Tilly and The Nursery pt 1
“Nervous are we, Tilly?” The Matron’s voice filled the small room.
Hearing her own name spoken out loud (and so informally!) made Tilly blush. “Well, yes,” she gasped out a relieved laugh, “I suppose I am rather, silly of me I know.”
She could feel her neck itching at the newly starched collar of her blouse. She had done the starching and ironing herself, using the small basin here in the dorm and a tiny iron and board borrowed from her room-mate Hester. Matilda Watkins had wanted to make an impression - but she was beginning to think she had overdone it. Her collar was as stiff as could be. The rest of her uniform seemed to be the same way, crisp and clean and somehow uncomfortable - the fit was all wrong. Perhaps the cold water washing had shrunk the material, she would have to ask Hester if -
She was glad that the matron interrupted the gabbling of her thoughts. “Not at all,” the woman was saying in a reassuring tone, “it’s a big day, I’m sure we’re all very excited. But we can’t let that interfere with our work, can we?” The Matron’s eyes were not unkind, and she had a good reputation on the wards, not at all the ogre Tilly had feared - the one the word 'Matron' somehow inevitably conjured up. Nevertheless she was not one to tolerate soppiness or nonsense and her voice was firm.
“Oh no, Miss Hambling, of course not,” Tilly curtsied, doing her best to look professional, to look dutiful. She had been bound in service for a long time, an outsider - a blundering gentleman of the Press say - would have seen only two sharply uniformed, determined looking nurses, whilst the nuances of their dialogue would have been lost on such a man.
A gentleman of the Press indeed! On a normal day this would have been more than presumptuous but today there was every chance, despite the Director’s stern efforts to the contrary and the Sister’s strict regimen and routine, she had already heard from a gasping Hester that men were to be found lurking around the grounds, behind the bushes, some even had box-cameras and were looking for suitable studies. Hope had been written large across Hester’s face -Tilly had simply whitened slightly at the idea of her face being caught by the camera lens, perhaps to be seen by complete strangers as they read the daily paper in some crowded office or on a trolley bus.
Matron sighed. “Tilly my dear, I can positively hear your mind racing. Let’s try and concentrate shall we?”
“Yes Mum.” It was an honorific, the two were not related. Indeed, Tilly had never known a mother - one reason why she had gone into the service, and specialised in maternity care. Everybody called the Matrons ‘Mum’ as well as Matron, or even the full Madam upon occasion, to have one stood before you, in your own room no less, was an honour. Hambling had been going round as many of the bright young nurses as possible. Most would be on duty when Dr Prendergast did his rounds and he had little time for shy people, even less for women - the Matron wanted her nurses to be ready.
The room was stuffy, smelling - as all the nurses dorms tended to do - of cabbage, old tea leaves and drying socks... but outside the sun was shining brightly now and the day was coming that the heavily leaded windows would be opened at last - it was actually a grand spring morning, which augured well. There had been bright bunches of violets and crocuses on display outside the Upper Holloway train station today, as well the usual spring daffodils, young Hester must’ve been out earlier for there was a vase on the sill with a few flowers inside it. Hambling was still ostensibly appraising Tilly Watkins however and she noted that the girl seemed somewhat calmer now, perhaps the visit had momentarily inflamed the young girl’s nerves. Well, perhaps.
“You know the schedule for today’s events? Yes? You’ve had time to memorise the alterations? Good, just make sure that you are ready for two o’clock, no excuses, drop whatever else you’re doing and get yourself in position for then. The Mayor won’t want his speech being interrupted nor will the Director.”
Tilly was colouring again. “Now, now, we'll have less of that!" Matron was sharp. "All will be well, we shall see. And tomorrow will simply be tomorrow and the opening of our nice new ward will have come and gone. Hmm? Make the most of today Tilly, don’t miss out because of a girlish self-concern.”
“Yes Matron.”
“Right, well,” the Matron looked down at the special fob watch she wore pinned to her smock, “duty calls, both of us now I believe. I will see you at two o’clock precisely. Now off you go - look smart.”
The women bustled out to the steep stone staircase that spiralled into the bowels of the hospital. They would go together as far as the bottom and then their duties would separate them. Tilly would be replacing Hester whose shift was coming to an end. The shifts were long.
It was true that as a whole, the duties of a nurse in the Children’s Hospital, adjunct to the main building, were far less onerous than those in the Hospital proper but the shifts were longer, the responsibilities greater… and now, with the nursery finally opening, those duties were to expand - Tilly wondered if she would make a good teacher. Most of the children coming to the nursery would be illiterate, and of course those born here in the unit would naturally progress into the Nursery themselves, or at least that was the expectation. Tilly had learned to read in the poor house, her own education had come much later in life than she would have wanted. Yes, she owed the hospital a great deal.
end of part one.
obviously, this is not quite what it seems... thanks go to Svetlana and Rebecca for inspiration.