eyes then began to examine each of the others, as shrewd and pitiless as a bird of prey. Caught in such sights, Nell’s heart fluttered like a sparrow.
But, by some felicitous quirk, neither she nor anyone else was to be singled out, and the final word of caution was for the benefit of all. ‘This will not happen again! I do not care that you are here on a voluntary basis, if you are to do the job then do it properly! Do I make myself clear?’
The nurses mumbled assurances.
‘Very well! That will be all, Matron.’ The raptor clamped a file under her wing, and made to leave the train. ‘I’ll trust you to dispense with those two. Good day!’ And with three strides she was gone.
‘I’m very sorry, Nurse Green, Nurse French,’ murmured matron, ever the lady, not considering it a loss of prestige to apologise in front of others. ‘But it seems your cover is blown, as they say. I’m unable to keep you on. Though I’m bound to add you have turned out to be far more capable than many I could mention, and it’s a great shame.’ She shook her neatly groomed head, and sighed at having her rank so affronted. ‘Apparently I’ve been granted no choice in the matter.’
With the victims’ pragmatic response, the rest of the nurses were instructed to go about their work, and began to file out of Matron’s office.
‘Nurse Spottiswood, a word if you please!’ Matron signalled for her to remain behind, and when there were just the two of them there, said without preamble, ‘How far along is your pregnancy?’
Thoroughly jolted, Nell immediately coloured up, the red travelling to her roots as she hung her head but did not deny it.
‘There’s not much you can hide from me, my dear. I’ve been aware of your condition for some weeks, but at Sister’s instigation I decided to let it pass for a while.’ She noted the sharp upturn in Nell’s demeanour that indicated surprise. ‘Despite what you may think,’ she now revealed sagely, ‘Sister Barber is very attached to you, and thinks you have the right temperament to make a good nurse. It was her opinion that your current circumstances didn’t appear to interfere with your work, and so we allowed you to carry on for a month or so, as in the natural course of events you would be leaving us soon enough anyway. But now it has begun to show …’ Matron cocked her head in sympathy, and repeated her former enquiry. ‘So, tell me, how far on are you?’
‘I’m not sure,’ whispered Nell. ‘But it was back in August that I last … had relations.’
‘Good heavens!’ Matron looked astonished. ‘Why, you must be almost ready to deliver. Have you received no medical attention?’
Trying to fight back tears, Nell shook her head.
‘I suppose you’ve been wearing a tight corset hoping it would go away,’ guessed her superior, rather stern of face again, and still battling incredulity. ‘Well, you’ve certainly managed to hide it remarkably well until now!’
But, as Nell started to weep, she clicked her tongue, adding, ‘You poor creature,’ and rose from her desk to lend a handkerchief and words of comfort. ‘It’s probably because your bump is evenly distributed around the sides that you were able to hide it – and taller girls like yourself do seem more able to carry it off. You’re not the first to hide a pregnancy, and you certainly won’t be the last. At least you’re not trying to deny it. I’ve known plenty who refused to accept they were carrying a baby even as they were giving birth! I’m just amazed that you’ve managed to continue with your work so uncomplainingly.’
Upon the flow of self-pity being staunched, Matron asked, ‘So, what do you intend to do? Will the boy marry you?’
‘He was killed last year.’ Nell broke down again.
‘Ah … it was that one. I’m so sorry.’ Matron’s voice was unusually soft. ‘Then you’ll need to be brave, my dear. Have you been concealing this from your parents too?’ At the distressed nod, she told Nell rather more uncompromisingly, ‘Well, you will have to tell them – in any event you cannot continue nursing at this late stage, it’s unsuitable for you to even appear in the workplace, leaving aside any physical repercussions – had I guessed you were so far along I’d never have sanctioned it. It’s a miracle our friendly official didn’t notice. Needless to say, you shall have to be sent home.’ In an untypical demonstration of hopelessness, Matron buried her head in her hands. ‘Good Lord, three nurses down – let’s hope there’s no emergency.’
Then, with Nell still weeping, she reverted to her normal self and, in steering her nurse to the door, was to mete a crumb of benevolence. ‘At least this is one instance for which we can be thankful you’re not state-registered, or you would be struck off. As things stand, I’m willing for you to return after the baby is adopted.’
Ambushed from her tears, Nell wanted to shout, Why do you falsely assume that I’ll give my baby up? But she did not, for it was not done and would only bring reproof, and besides, she appreciated Matron’s kindness. It was a relief to have told someone at last.
‘Run along home now,’ ordered Matron, patting Nell’s shoulder as she opened the door. ‘And please do inform your mother straight away. At the very least it will allow you to claim the proper nutrition. You could have been receiving extra milk and eggs, if you’d only come clean earlier.’
Involved with the preparation of dressings, the others regarded her with curiosity as she emerged dabbing her eyes from Matron’s office. She could see the question on their faces: why had Spotty been singled out to receive a more severe reprimand than the rest of them? Fending off their displays of concern with an upraised palm, Nell deterred any approach, then left without a word of explanation to any of them. Not even Beata. But a glance at her friend told Nell that she already knew.
‘Goodness, you made me jump out of my skin!’ accused her mother, hurriedly shoving an intended birthday gift out of sight into the cupboard, as Nell arrived home mid-morning.
Her face oozing guilt, Nell had been practising how to break her terrible news all the way home. She had finally primed herself, was on the brink of saying it, when Mother frowned and hazarded a guess:
‘You’ve been dismissed for not going back yesterday?’
‘Suspended.’ The lie tripped off Nell’s tongue, loaning her brief reprieve, and she thanked that horrendous shift for providing a good excuse. For now.
‘Oh, how mean …’ First came consolation, then practicality. ‘Well, you needn’t be bored. I’ll have ample to occupy you until you’re allowed to return. For a start, you can go through your clothes and put by anything that no longer fits you, particularly anything with rubber in it, such as those old galoshes you wore for school.’ With their enslaved colonies no longer able to export, rubber was now having to be salvaged, which explained Thelma’s manic preoccupation with the cupboard. ‘I could have sworn I had an old corset in here. I was going to cut off the suspenders, but I can’t find it anywhere – do you know, I swear there’s a goblin in this house, the things that have gone missing lately. Either that or I’m losing my marbles. Anyway, whatever you can find, I’ll take it to the WVS this afternoon. In fact, it’ll be rather handy you being off for a while, because you can help by doing the cleaning up and the shopping whilst I’m on official business.’
So, after lunch, and indeed every day except Sunday, for the next couple of weeks Nell found herself pressganged into completing a list of housework. With her normal clothes so tight-fitting now – zips of skirts having to be left open and secured with safety pins, and emphasising her distorted shape – she chose to retain her uniform, giving lame explanation to her mother that this was simply to make her feel professional. Though in truth this was the last way she was feeling. For the previous month the passenger in her abdomen had been inflicting tremendous strain on her lower back, as well as her shoulders, and all this donkeywork did not help. But there was little chance of lying down for a rest,