Our Country Nurse: Can East End Nurse Sarah find a new life caring for babies in the country?. Sarah Beeson

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      ‘Put your money away, Nurse. It’s all from our garden anyway and I made the bread and the cake as today’s one of my baking days, and the milk is from the cow I keep at my sister’s. So, it didn’t cost nothing.’ Flo quickly changed the subject. ‘There’s a double bedroom at the back overlooking the garden,’ she continued with the guided tour. ‘The bathroom is through there and you’ll find a little storage cupboard with a hoover and brushes in it at the end of the corridor.’

      ‘It’s lovely,’ I enthused as I peeked out of the window onto the street below. Flo perched next to me on the window seat. The wedding party was now strewn around the lawn of the Village Hall. There were children running around, men drinking beer and women in floppy hats sipping wine in the sunshine. The bride and groom were greeting people as they walked past them into the hall.

      ‘I’ll have to pop over to the church soon and help the vicar tidy up – he’s not married yet, bless him and he doesn’t know a cornflower from a poppy,’ Flo told me.

      ‘I hope you didn’t miss the wedding on my account?’ I asked.

      ‘No, wasn’t invited,’ she sniffed sharply. ‘His family’s no better than they ought to be. Him, his brothers, his dad and his uncles all work up at the brewery and I would think they drink as much as they brew; no wonder the old place is on its way out. And she’s not been in the village five minutes and her family very much keeps themselves to themselves. They’re not even from Kent! Came from some town in Essex by all accounts. And you don’t have to be a nurse to see you’ll be visiting that girl sooner rather than later,’ remarked Flo with a knowing nod.

      I can’t say I was salivating with the imparting of so much village gossip. I felt another short pang for city life and the anonymity of it all. Totley had looked idyllic as I drove through, but clearly life was going to be rather more sedate from now on. I sighed to myself.

      The bride and groom eventually disappeared into the Village Hall after greeting the last of their guests. Flo left me to explore the rest of the flat on my own. I could hear the singing of the kettle as she prepared a little tea party to celebrate my arrival. I heard heavy footsteps running up the stairs. When I returned to the kitchen Clem was panting with his hands on his old knees as he tried to catch his breath.

      ‘Clem, where’s the nurse’s belongings? What have you been doing, you old fool?’ scolded Flo.

      ‘Come quick, Nurse. Village Hall. The bride – she’s not well,’ puffed Clem.

      I’d barely been there half an hour and was already summoned to my first medical emergency. Was this what life as a village health visitor was going to be like? I thought it would be dull compared with hospital life. How wrong I was and how glad I was to be given the wrong first impression of Totley.

      Clem led me at a gallop across the street to the Village Hall. The groom and his mates had already opened a huge barrel of scrumpy and were freely pouring it into tankards from the makeshift bar. Young girls danced around their handbags in the small square of dance floor. The speakers pumped out KC and the Sunshine Band’s ‘Get Down Tonight’. It wasn’t even five o’clock but the tranquil scene of a quiet country wedding had been transformed into a rowdy gathering of half-cut young locals. At this stage in the proceedings the youthful wedding guests were still divided into male and female, while the older crowd looked on from the sidelines – safe from speculation and free to observe in a straight row of chairs against the walls of the hall. They sat either still, their knees together sipping sherry in between tuts and the sucking in of teeth, or attempted to lounge on the uncomfortable-looking red plastic chairs while watching the heady scene wistfully, wishing they could join in with the youngsters.

      Flo was hot on our heels. When we reached the back of the hall Clem stopped abruptly at the side door.

      ‘We’ll take it from here, Clem,’ Flo instructed, stepping forward and relieving him of duty.

      As soon as he was given a reprieve Clem scurried off back to his garden and Bessie his beloved pig. I wished I could go with him.

      ‘What is the medical emergency?’ I asked Flo under my breath.

      ‘I would have thought that was obvious. She’s having a baby.’

      ‘Who?’

      ‘The bride.’

      ‘Have you called the midwife?’

      ‘Yes, but she’s in Malling, it’ll take her at least half an hour to get here.’

      Oh help, I thought. I’m not a midwife, I’m a health visitor and only just. Every baby I’ve delivered was during my obstetrics training in a hospital! I took a deep breath – I needed to take charge of the situation. This was nothing I couldn’t handle. Pull yourself together, Sarah, I scolded myself. How far on can the girl be? First babies take hours and she’s probably in first-stage labour or maybe even a false alarm brought on by the excitement of the wedding. Don’t let your nerves get the better of you.

      ‘Right, I’ll take it from here,’ I told Flo. ‘Well done for calling the midwife but can you call an ambulance too. We don’t want any surprises, do we?’

      ‘Just as you say, Nurse. Give me a whistle if you need anything. I’ve got the keys to the clinic. I can pop in and get whatever you want until the midwife or the ambulance get here.’

      ‘Some surgical rubber gloves and towels would be good for a start. Do you know what a foetal stethoscope is?’

      ‘I certainly do,’ Flo replied a little curtly.

      ‘Excellent, well one of those too if you would,’ I said with a broad smile. Flo was pacified.

      ‘Righto, Nurse,’ she replied, hurrying back to the clinic, glad to be of use and in the thick of it.

      When I opened the door to the small cramped side room I did not find what I had been expecting; I’d imagined a slightly pink-faced bride pacing around with early labour pains. No, instead I found a frightened young woman with her dress half off, squatting between two red plastic chairs, using the seats as arm supports. An even younger bridesmaid still in her fresh buttercup gown looked pale-faced as she watched from behind the panting newlywed, whose previously neat bridal hair-do was now a tangled mess around her hot red face, her make-up smudged around her overly bright eyes.

      ‘Hello. I’m Sarah Hill, the new health visitor,’ I explained quickly and calmly, closing the door behind me.

      ‘Thank God, you’ve come, Nurse. Susie Smith, I mean Bunyard. Mrs Susan Bunyard,’ said the bride, panting.

      ‘The midwife is on her way, Mrs Bunyard. But if you could put up with me until she gets here, I think we’ll be able to manage between us.’ She smiled briefly and then closed her eyes in preparation for the next contraction. ‘When did you first start to experience labour pains?’ I asked.

      Susan Bunyard tried to answer me but she couldn’t catch her breath. I turned my gaze towards the nervous-looking bridesmaid and smiled. The poor child couldn’t have been more than 13, and she looked terrified. ‘I’m Lisa. Susie’s sister,’ she squeaked.

      ‘Right, Lisa. Could you go and find me a jug of water, some glasses and ice if you can,’ I told her.

      The girl nodded and ran out of the room, glad to be away. Flo popped her head round СКАЧАТЬ