Connie’s Courage. Annie Groves

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       SEVEN

      Connie could feel all the pleasure of the evening draining out of her body as though it had been her blood. In its place was a cold, icy feeling of deathly despair.

      ‘We … we’ve just been out for some air, Sister,’ Vera fibbed.

      ‘I see. I take it then, Nurse, that you are recovered from the indisposition which took you off Sister Hughes’ ward this afternoon?’

      Vera went red, and said nothing.

      ‘And you, Nurse Pride?’

      There was nothing that Connie could say. She suspected that Sister Jenkins knew exactly where they had been!

      ‘This is not the first occasion on which I have had to speak to you on a matter of discipline, Pride.’

      Connie quailed beneath her disapproving look, her apprehension growing.

      ‘I have no option but to report your behaviour to Matron.’

      Connie sucked in a shocked breath, her apprehension turning to a cold, hard ball of fear. Suddenly, and too late, Connie realised how much trouble she was in. It was obvious both from Sister’s expression, and her reaction, that she was taking their breaking of the rules very seriously.

      The warning she had received the last time she had been in trouble flashed through Connie’s mind. She had been afraid, then, of what would happen to her if she was dismissed from the hospital but, foolishly, she had chosen not to think of that fear earlier. Now though, she was forcibly reminded of it by the cramping dread seizing her stomach.

      Why on earth had she been so stupid? Unlike Vera, Connie loved working at the Infirmary. And besides, if she were to be sent away, where would she go?

      ‘You will both go straight to your room, and you will remain there until Matron sends for you. The Guardians of this hospital expect its nurses to behave with obedience and decorum. You have been extremely fortunate to be taken on as probationers. And yet, you in particular, Nurse Pride, have repaid the generosity of the Guardians toward you with disobedience and the most shameful kind of behaviour,’ Sister announced coldly, further reinforcing Connie’s fearful awareness of how much trouble she was in.

      Her stomach was a mass of nauseously churning nerves, whilst her head was a mass of equally churning fears. Now, when it was too late, she bitterly regretted her own foolish stubbornness. She had put her precious hard-won security at risk, she realised. And for what? A dance?

      ‘The nurses of this Infirmary have a reputation to maintain, and an example to set to those less fortunate than themselves. You will not go on duty in the morning, and you will not leave your room without permission. Is that understood?’

      ‘Yes, Sister.’ Connie said numbly, bowing her head in despair.

      With a further quelling look, Sister Jenkins turned on her heel and sailed away, leaving Vera whispering wrathfully to Connie. ‘Someone must have told her, and I can bet I know who it was!’

      Connie said nothing. She was barely aware of what Vera was saying. She felt too sick with worry to listen to her. All she could think of was the morning and Matron. Matron would tell her to leave, she was sure of it. And all because she had given in to Vera. Tears burned the backs of her eyes. She could feel herself trembling inwardly with shock. It had never occurred to her that they might get caught. Oh, how she wished she had not been so foolish!

      When they reached their room, Josie was waiting anxiously for them.

      ‘Eeh, but you are late!’ she told them. ‘Sister has been round and your beds were empty!’

      ‘And I suppose you told her where we were, did you, Goody Two Shoes,’ Vera accused Mavis who was sitting up quietly in her bed. ‘Well, we might have known that you would give us away!’ Vera added nastily.

      Josie’s face had grown bright pink. ‘Vera, that’s not fair!’ she protested. ‘Mavis told Sister that you were right bad with your monthlies and that Connie had gone down to the kitchen with you, to make you a hot water bottle and a cup of tea!’

      When neither of them said anything, Mavis herself said quietly, ‘I don’t think you were the only nurses who went to the dance, not with George Lashwood being there!’ She gave a small sigh. ‘I would have liked to have heard him again myself. Connie, what is it? What’s wrong?’ she demanded with concern, getting up off her bed and coming over to Connie, as she saw the tears in her eyes.

      ‘Sister caught us coming in,’ Connie told her, too upset to hold back the truth. ‘We … She’s going to report us to Matron!’

      ‘Oh Connie! Mavis’s hand went to her mouth, and her eyes reflected her shock.

      ‘I’m starving! You’d have thought Sister would have let us have our breakfast,’ Vera announced angrily.

      ‘I couldn’t eat anything,’ Connie told her numbly. ‘I feel that sick! I didn’t sleep a wink last night. Oh, Vera, what will we do if Matron dismisses us?’ she whispered, unable to keep her fear to herself any longer.

      ‘As to that, I don’t rightly care!’ Vera retorted.

      ‘I’d be glad if Matron did send us packing. I’m fair sick of this place, Connie. I thought nursing was going to be exciting, not spending all day scrubbing and polishing.’ She gave a defiant toss of her head. ‘I was thinking of leaving come Christmas anyway!’

      As Connie digested her friend’s comments, she reflected bleakly that it was all very well for Vera to talk of leaving: she had a home to go to, and two parents who, by all accounts, doted on her, whilst Connie …

      Connie stiffened as the door opened. Sister Jenkins was standing outside the room, a nurse on either side of her.

      ‘Matron will see you first,’ she told Vera, coldly.

      After Vera had gone, marched away like a prisoner, Connie smoothed the fabric of her dress, and fidgeted nervously with her apron and her cap. Would this be the last time she would be wearing them? Although she had never said so, she had felt so proud and so smart in her uniform.

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