Fic: Progression
Title: Progression
Rating: K+/PG
Word count: 4,071
Characters: Ethel, Millais, Ethel/Millais. Minor appearances by Ada Russell, Matron Luckes, Mr Holland and Mr Fenwick.
Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me.
Notes: These characters invaded my head and made me write this. I’m basing this on the characters from the TV show, not on the actual historical figures, and so this does not follow the course their lives actually took. No disrespect is intended.
Thanks: to
et_muse , who hand-held and awww'd with me.
Summary: After the incident in the Receiving Room, Ethel’s future is to be decided by those in charge of the hospital. Afterwards, she and Millais move forward in their relationship.
She focused on one small area of the floor in front of her, just past the hem of her skirt. Her hands were folded in her lap, her feet tucked under the bench, and she could almost imagine that she could hear the whispering gossip of the people who passed her. That’s her, you know, the nurse who wants to be a doctor! Imagine! What on earth was she thinking?
Ethel Bennett was, for once in her life, scared. After forty-five minutes of rigorous questioning from Matron Luckes, as well as Mr Fenwick and Chairman Holland, she had been sent to wait for their decision. Her future lay in their hands, and she knew it. They would most likely choose to dismiss her from the hospital, with no hope of nursing in another hospital, and although she might get a reference she had no idea what else she could possibly do. She had trained hard to be a nurse, and worked hard for three years, but her savings were small and she had nowhere else to go.
Her thoughts turned to Millais, and for a moment she entertained the notion that if she were dismissed, he would marry her and she would be what he had seemed shocked by, a doctor’s wife. For a moment she imagined what married life must be like, thought about running a house and being able to love Millais the way she wanted to, the way she couldn’t show now.
But it was only for a moment; she clasped her hands tightly together and waited for the verdict.
Familiar footsteps along the hallway made her lift her head, and she saw Ada Russell hurrying towards her. Ethel attempted a smile, but it faltered.
“Is there any news?” Ada asked quietly, joining Ethel on the bench. Ethel shook her head, her mouth too dry to speak. “I can’t stay long, the Receiving Room is unusually busy today,” Ada said then. “But I wanted to see…” She trailed off as Ethel looked at her, and she sighed. “Ethel, you knew this might happen.”
“I knew,” Ethel managed, moistening her lips. “Of course I knew, Ada.” She glanced away as two probationers hurried along the corridor, silent as they passed. “Of course I knew,” she repeated when they had gone. “So did Mill- Dr Culpin.”
“Yes, well, I can’t imagine that will go down well either,” muttered Ada. “I’d better be getting back.” She rose and hesitated for a moment. “You’ll let me know what happens?”
“Of course,” said Ethel, returning her gaze to that small patch of floor in front of her. “I’ll…I’ll be in the drawing room later, or if…if…”
“Well,” Ada said quickly, “you’ll come to see Dr Culpin, anyway.” She touched Ethel’s shoulder for a moment and leaned close. “I’ll tell him there’s no word yet,” she said, quiet enough that nobody around would be able to hear her. Ethel nodded, a sharp jerk of her head, and then Ada departed. Ethel sat in silence again.
At last the door opened, and Ethel looked up to see Miss Luckes, her expression stern as usual.
“Come in, Nurse Bennett,” she said, and returned back into the room. Ethel rose, took a deep breath, and stepped into the matron’s office. She closed the door behind her and went to sit in front of the desk. Matron Luckes sat behind the desk, with Chairman Holland and Mr Fenwick on either side of her.
“This hasn’t been an easy decision,” began Mr Holland, “for any of us.” Ethel clasped her hands together in her lap and looked from Mr Holland to Miss Luckes, who gave nothing away.
“You have abused your position as a nurse,” the matron said abruptly, “and performed a procedure which you were not authorised to do. You endangered a patient. More than one patient, as I understand you have spent your nights studying. Lack of sleep could have put any number of lives at risk.”
Ethel nodded but said nothing. There was nothing to say - she had agreed to all these charges earlier.
“On the other hand, we have a recommendation from Mr Dean that you should be allowed to pursue your interest in medicine,” said Mr Fenwick, looking at her sharply. “He seems to think you have a keen mind and should be admitted to the school of medicine.” Ethel looked up, surprised, to meet Mr Fenwick’s steady gaze. “Mr Dean’s opinion,” the surgeon continued, “is that you’re probably a lot more intelligent than half the young men we train up.” He paused. “Matron Luckes happens to agree with that assessment.”
“Oh,” said Ethel, sounding stupid even to her own ears. “Thank you?”
“This hospital has never trained women to be doctors,” said Miss Luckes crisply, “and I do not believe women are suited to that profession. However…” She paused, and Ethel could feel her heart pounding in her chest. “However I am persuaded that perhaps I am wrong in that, in some cases.”
“After great deliberation, we have decided to allow you to begin training as a doctor when the new term begins,” said Mr Holland, and Ethel’s mouth dropped open.
“Really?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I mean - but truly?” She looked between the three, barely able to believe it, needing more confirmation before she could believe it. Miss Luckes nodded at her, and Ethel almost slumped back in her chair. “Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you so much.”
“Nurse Bennett, this is not a guarantee,” warned Mr Fenwick, leaning forwards. “You will have to compete with men for your place in the school, and will be expected to pass the same rigorous tests and examinations.”
“I understand,” Ethel nodded.
“And even if you do succeed,” Mr Holland jumped in, “there is absolutely no guarantee that you will be able to find employment anyway.”
“I know that, Mr Holland,” said Ethel. She had gone through all the ifs and buts, all the possibilities and probabilities many times over the past three years. “I’m just grateful for the opportunity,” she added.
“Don’t let us down,” said Miss Luckes, and Ethel nodded once again. “The term starts in two months, Nurse Bennett, and in the meantime you are expected to maintain your duties as a nurse.”
“Yes, Miss Luckes.”
“As to the question of habitation: obviously the student quarters are entirely inappropriate, so you will be permitted to remain in the nurses’ quarters,” Miss Luckes went on briskly. “But under no circumstances are you to distract the other nurses from their chosen vocation, is that understood?”
“Yes, Miss Luckes.”
“You may resume your duties in the morning,” said Miss Luckes at last. “You may have the rest of the day to compose yourself.”
“Yes, Matron.” Ethel rose and bobbed a curtsey. “Thank you, Miss Luckes. Mr Fenwick, Mr Holland.”
“Good luck, Miss Bennett,” said Mr Fenwick, and Ethel was dismissed.
She paused outside Miss Luckes’ office and lifted a hand to her mouth as if to hold back a cry of joy - or shock. Her heart was still racing, her mouth was still dry, and she had to sit on the bench in the corridor for a moment to calm herself down.
She could be a doctor. They were going to let her train, let her try, and she already knew enough to compete with the other new students at the beginning of the next term. She could train and pass the exams and maybe - maybe -
Ethel rose, smoothed her apron down, and hurried to the Receiving Room. It was nearly half past twelve, nearly time for half of the staff there to take their half an hour for lunch. Millais usually took the first half hour, leaving Dr Ingrams to take the later lunch sitting. The nurses followed the same pattern so that the Receiving Room was staffed at all times. Ethel knew she would find Millais still there, squeezing in one more patient before he went to eat.
Ada saw her first, and didn’t need to ask any questions; she could tell the result by Ethel’s expression, and she smiled.
“Go into my office,” she said to Ethel, keeping her voice down to prevent being overheard. “I’ll send Dr Culpin in before he goes to lunch.”
“Thank you,” Ethel breathed, clasping Ada’s hand tight for a moment. “Thank you, Ada.” Ada nodded and gestured Ethel away before turning to deal with another patient. Ethel hurried to the small office that Ada used as Sister, shut the door behind her, and sank into a chair.
She still couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that she was being given a chance to do what she wanted to do. Three years of studying in the dark, of memorising facts and names and keeping it all a secret. Three years of -
The door opened and Millais Culpin came in; he shut the door behind him without looking at her. Clearly he expected the worst, but Ethel stood up and was in his arms as soon as the door was safely shut.
“They’re going to let me train!” she exclaimed into his shoulder. “Millais, they’re going to let me try!”
“Oh, thank god,” he said, and held her tight, his arms wrapped around her waist and hers around his neck. “Thank god,” he muttered again. “I was afraid -”
“Me too,” whispered Ethel, closing her eyes and pressing even closer to him. “I was too.” Millais pulled away from her after a moment, but only far enough so that he could lower his head and kiss her. His lips were warm and familiar and she kissed him back, feeling as though she was pouring all her joy and happiness into the embrace.
His hands lifted to cup her face when at last they parted for breath, and he frowned a little when he saw tears in her eyes.
“Why are you crying?” he asked. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Yes - yes, of course,” said Ethel, blinking several times to dispel the tears. Millais gently wiped away a tear that escaped, and she turned her face into his hand, relishing his touch and the comfort he offered. “I’m just so relieved,” she admitted. “And so happy.” Millais smiled at her, one of his warmest, rarest smiles, and then he kissed her again.
They parted again and Ethel could feel her cheeks reddening at the way Millais was looking at her. She took a step backwards, smoothed her apron reflexively and lifted a hand to check her hair.
“Congratulations, Ethel,” said Millais at last, his voice warm. “You deserve it.”
“If only we always got what we deserved,” said Ethel, trying to tease. “I think they think I’ll fail and prove them right.”
“Well, you won’t,” said Millais confidently, still looking at her in that way that made her blush. She had to look away from him, just for a moment, and she caught sight of the clock on Ada’s desk.
“You must go,” she told him. “Lunch.”
“Yes,” he said, as if she had dragged him back to earth. “Yes. Of course.” He half-turned but paused, seeming unwilling to look away from her. “Will you…would you care to join me for a tram ride later?” he asked, sounding a little more cautious than usual.
“Of course,” said Ethel, smiling again as she stepped back towards him. “I look forward to it.” Millais hesitated again, but before he could say anything more there was a sharp knock at the door, and Ada entered.
“Dr Culpin, Dr Ingrams is wondering whether you’ll be taking the early lunch,” she said, very pointedly not looking at the way they were standing together.
“Yes, thank you, Sister Russell,” said Millais hurriedly. “I’ll be there in one moment.” Ada nodded, glanced at Ethel, and then retreated. The door closed firmly behind her. Millais grimaced, and Ethel offered a helpless shrug. They were used to secrecy. “I’ll see you tonight, then,” Millais said, not quite a question, and she nodded.
“I’ll meet you at the tram stop, shall I?” she asked, and risked one last brief kiss. He held her tightly against him for one more moment, and then he opened the door and left. Ethel stayed for a few minutes more for discretion’s sake, and then demurely left Ada’s office to return to the nurses’ quarters.
* * *
There was a wind just chill enough that most passengers chose to sit inside the tram, leaving Ethel and Millais in relative privacy. They sat near the front of the upper seats, Ethel on the outside and Millais by the aisle. They held hands between them, mostly hidden by Ethel’s skirt and coat.
“This is nice,” said Ethel presently, when there was only one other person still remaining on the upper deck, seated at the back and far enough away to prevent eavesdropping. “Sometimes I feel like I never get outside the hospital.”
“Hm.” Millais was preoccupied with something, but Ethel knew better than to ask. Either he would tell her in his own time, or he would bring his thoughts back to the present.
“From what Ada said, the Receiving Room was unusually busy today,” she said, turning her head slightly into the breeze. “I’ve missed it since being stationed with surgery.” Millais squeezed her hand slightly and she glanced back at him.
“You’ve been missed,” he admitted, and she smiled. He could be so reserved, so reticent in expressing his feelings, that she treasured it whenever he did say something. “Ethel -” The tram stopped with a jerk and he cut himself off, waiting until the tram started again before he continued. “It’s very good news,” he said then. “That they’re going to let you train. You’ll stun them all, I have no doubt.”
“I’m glad one of us is confident,” said Ethel fervently. “I confess I fully expected to be dismissed without reference.”
“Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, I know. I was concerned about it as well.” His grip on her hand tightened again, and she watched him curiously. “Ethel. If you had been dismissed…where would you have gone?”
Ethel drew away from him a little and looked away, out at the buildings they passed through on the tram. It was growing dark, and she knew they would have to dismount and make the return journey before long.
“I don’t know,” she said, her words tight and clipped. “As you know, I have no relatives.”
“I know.”
“I suppose I was hoping Miss Luckes would give me a reference,” said Ethel, trying to sound careless. “I would have to try my luck at another hospital, or perhaps a nursing home.” She didn’t look at him; she didn’t think she could bear to see his expression.
“There would have been…an alternative,” Millais said, and she risked a glance, just briefly, and saw him watching her. The street lights were being lit, and they cast a strange glow across his face. “Ethel, you know I…” He paused and reached across to take her other hand. “You know I love you,” he said, his voice low and oddly tender. “When you said that there were other things you could do - I didn’t for a moment mean…” He hesitated again, and Ethel sighed a little.
“Millais, please,” she said quietly, “don’t say anything that you don’t want to.” He frowned a little, and she shook her head and swallowed against a lump in her throat. “You seemed…taken aback by the idea,” she murmured.
“I was taken aback by the idea of you giving up what you’d worked so hard for,” he said, almost sharp now. “I’d rather you were a doctor than just a doctor’s wife.”
Ethel’s heart seemed to flutter a little and she began to hope again, just a little.
“Just,” she repeated, and moistened her lips. His eyes watched her tongue for the moment it was visible, and then he nodded.
“I’d be more than happy,” he said, “to be married to a doctor.”
Ethel tried to find words but found she had nothing to say. She’d thought she was happy earlier, when they had granted her permission to train, but that was nothing compared to how she felt now. She had dreamed for years of being a doctor, and she had only known Millais for three years - only dreamed of him for three years - but there was a lump in her throat again and she felt unaccountably near tears. Something must have shown in her expression, because he released her hand and touched her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw lightly with his fingers.
“Ethel?” he said. “You know it’s not terribly good for a man’s ego when the woman he loves cries when he proposes to her.”
“Oh, is that what you call it?” she retorted, at last managing to speak. Millais smiled at her and she had to laugh, a queer choke of laughter and she turned her face into Millais’ hand, lifted her own to cover it. It felt so strange, to be so demonstrative in public, but no-one on the tram knew them and they couldn’t be seen from the street so it was safe enough.
And in two months she would no longer be a nurse: she would be training to be a doctor, and there was no rule against medical students being engaged, or even being married.
“Well, I could get down on one knee,” Millais said, amused, “but there isn’t room between tram seats, and I might end up falling over. It would be terribly undignified.”
“And we mustn’t have doctors being undignified.” Ethel pressed a kiss to his palm and laced her fingers with his. “Well then.”
“Well?”
“I suppose it would be even more undignified if I were to say no,” she said, teasing him, and he knew she was teasing because something changed in his expression, something of relief crossed his face, and he turned his whole body towards her, knocking their knees together.
“Ethel, be serious,” he entreated. “I’m asking you to marry me.”
“And I’m answering yes,” she said, and she leaned against him a little. They had been holding hands all this time, her right in his left, but now he moved to put his arm around her.
Presently Ethel stirred and straightened, reaching to her watch to check the time.
“We need to turn back,” she said. “It will take forty-five minutes to get back, and my curfew…” Millais grimaced but nodded, and as the tram rattled towards the next stop they rose. He offered his arm to help steady her, and she took it, smiling almost shyly. They had travelled past Hyde Park, their usual turning-point, and they left the tram in Kensington as the gas lamps were being lit. They crossed the street together, her arm tucked into his, and stood at the tram stop to wait for the return tram.
“I have a ring,” Millais said, and he produced from an inner pocket of his coat a small jewellery box. “I wasn’t sure if...I know you can’t wear it yet.” He gave it to her, and she opened the box to reveal a delicate ring, a gold band set with three stones, two small diamonds guarding a pearl. “It was my mother’s,” he added.
“It’s beautiful,” Ethel murmured, and she unbuttoned the cuff of her glove. “I can’t wear it in the hospital,” she said, and he nodded. They both knew the limitations of their relationship, for now at least. She fumbled with the glove and he laughed a little at her.
“Here,” he said, “let me.” He deftly pulled the glove from her hand, and plucked the jewellery box from her fingers. “Let me,” he said again, voice low and rough, and carefully, gently, he slid the ring onto her finger. “There,” he said, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Perfect.”
“Millais,” she breathed, but even she didn’t know what she was about to say. A tram rattled to a halt at the stop and she put her glove back on as Millais paid their return fare. It was too cold to sit above now so they sat together in the middle of the tram, surrounded by too many people to allow conversation during the return journey. But they clasped hands, and Ethel could feel the ring on her finger.
They dismounted in Whitechapel, just around the corner from the hospital, and Millais drew her into a discreet corner to say goodnight. They couldn’t risk returning to the hospital at the same time - although it wasn’t a secret that they were friends, Ethel was all-too-aware that some of Matron Luckes’ questions earlier that day had hinted that she knew there was more to the relationship than just friendship.
“I’m assigned to surgery for the rest of the week,” Ethel said to him, clutching his hands tight because she didn’t really want to let go. “But I’m in the Receiving Room next week.” She smiled up at him, or tried to. “I don’t think Mr Fenwick particularly wants me where he has to think about me.”
“No, I imagine he’s rather put out about it,” said Millais, and his smile seemed to come easier to him. “Ethel.” He bent his head and kissed her, barely more than a brush of his mouth over hers, and she was able to smile again. “I never asked,” he said then, “are they letting you stay in the nurses’ quarters?”
“Yes,” nodded Ethel. “Miss Luckes made sure to tell me not to distract the other nurses, but I’ll be allowed to stay there.” She imitated Miss Luckes’ tone and words. “The student quarters are entirely inappropriate,” she said, and his smile widened.
“Well,” he said, “once term’s started - once you’ve settled into the medical school, I mean…well, my house could do with a woman’s touch.” Ethel looked up at him, wordless, and he lifted her left hand and pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles. “I want to marry you, Ethel,” he murmured. “I don’t want to wait any longer than we have to.”
“No,” she agreed. “We’ve been waiting long enough.” The church bell sounded quarter to nine and she started, surprised. “I’d better go,” she said after the bells stopped. “I’ll have to be on my best behaviour for the next two months.”
“And after two months?”
“Then, Dr Culpin,” she said, flirting a little, “my curfew will depend entirely on how long we wait to be married.” Ethel stretched up and kissed him one last time, and then she turned and walked away, walked down the street feeling his gaze on her back. She turned a corner and hurried up to the outer door of the nurses’ quarters.
The door was still open, and she wasn’t the only one who had stayed out dangerously close to curfew. Several groups of women were also just returning, and although they all smiled, nobody addressed her. The events in the Receiving Room, only a few days before, had spread throughout the nursing staff and she was now generally regarded with some suspicion.
Ethel knew it would grow into something more like distrust and resentment as soon as the news of the decision about her future was made public - and it would be, Ethel knew as well as anyone the propensity for women in groups to gossip. She trusted that Ada would say nothing, but the news would spread nonetheless.
She bypassed the drawing room and went straight to her bedroom. Her medical texts awaited, her notes on the lymphatic system nearly completed and learned. She changed into her nightgown before settling at her desk to study, determined to finish learning what Millais had set for her. She was determined that she would succeed.
The ring on her finger glinted in the light, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing with joy. For three years she had wanted two things: to be allowed to train as a doctor, and for Millais to love her as she loved him - to ask her what he had asked this evening.
She thought for a moment of her brother, wondered what he would think of all this. Freddy had always supported her, and he had liked Millais. Ethel liked to think that he would be happy for her, but she would never know.
Ethel watched the way her ring sparkled for a moment longer, and then she set to work.
Comments are love.