at nine-thirty. The singing of carols with the other nurses and the concert put on for the patients on Christmas Eve she thought she enjoyed more than they did, for she had never seen or done such things before.
The next morning Carmel slipped out to Mass before beginning her shift on the ward, which brought home to her the true meaning of Christmas once more. She felt at peace with the world as she returned to the hospital.
After the Christmas period was over, Carmel was introduced to the experience chart, which the sister had to fill in and which she explained was deposited with the matron each term so she could see the progress of each probationer at a glance. So over the next few days Carmel watched as the more experienced nurses showed her how to read a thermometer, to dress a wound, make up a poultice, roll a patient safely and give a bed-bath. Though she had done some of these things alongside Sister Frances, she said not a word about it.
The new year of 1932 wasn’t very old when all the room-mates had to do their annual block on night duty. All probationers once a year had to do almost three months on nights. This involved the girls moving out of the nurses’ home to rooms above the matron’s offices, which were quieter so that they could get some sleep in the day. Sleep was desperately needed as the girls worked from 11 p.m. until 8.15 a.m. for twelve nights followed by two nights off duty. So it wasn’t until the end of April, after their spell of night duty was over, that all four girls had a Saturday completely free.
‘We shouldn’t waste a whole Saturday off,’ Lois said gleefully after breakfast.
‘I suppose you would consider it a total waste if I suggested spending my day off in bed?’ Carmel said wistfully.
‘Yes I would, so don’t even bother thinking that way,’ Lois said firmly. ‘Come on, Carmel. What’s the matter with you? I want to show you around Birmingham, take you to my dad’s shop, show you the Bull Ring.’
‘All right, all right,’ Carmel said, giving in, ‘but the other two might not want to go gallivanting around the town.’
‘They’ll be fine,’ Lois said confidently, but Jane and Sylvia were difficult to rouse, impossible to motivate and point-black refused to go anywhere for a fair few hours.
‘But the day will be gone then.’
‘Good,’ said Sylvia.
‘Where do you want to go in such a tear anyway?’ Jane asked.
‘To town, the Bull Ring and that.’
‘Are you mad?’ Jane said. ‘Haven’t we seen it all a million times? It can wait until we feel a bit more human.’
‘Carmel hasn’t seen it.’
‘Well, show it to her then,’ Sylvia said irritably.
‘All right then,’ Lois said, conceding defeat. ‘Why don’t you meet us for lunch in Lyons Corner House on New Street?’
‘Make it tea and I’ll think about it,’ Sylvia said with a yawn. ‘I want a bath and to wash my hair and there’s homework to do first, and so until then let a body sleep, can’t you?’
‘All right,’ Lois said. ‘We can take a hint. We know when we’re not wanted.’
As they walked up Steelhouse Lane a little later, Carmel wondered what was the cheapest thing Lyons Corner House sold because she hadn’t the money to go out to eat. She would have to impress that on Lois as soon as she could.
‘Right,’ Lois said, taking Carmel’s arm, ‘if we were to walk up Colmore Row as far as the Town Hall, then we can go for a toddle round the shops and have a bite to eat in Lyons before we tackle the Bull Ring. What do you say?’
‘I say, I can’t really afford to eat out, Lois,’ Carmel said uncomfortably.
‘My treat.’
‘No, really.’
‘Listen,’ Lois said, ‘Daddy sends me an allowance every month and I have hardly spent any of it. I have plenty to treat my friends.’
‘Even so…’
‘Even so nothing,’ Lois said airily. ‘Come on, this is Colmore Row now.’
The road was long and wide with tram tracks laid the length of it. Carmel’s eye was caught by an imposing building on her right. It had many storeys, supported by pillars, and arched windows. ‘Snow Hill Station’ was written above the entrance.
‘There are three stations in Birmingham,’ Lois said, taking in her gaze. ‘The one you arrived in was New Street, this is Snow Hill and the other one is called Moor Street down Digbeth way. We’ll be nearly beside it when we are down the Bull Ring. But that is for later.’ She pointed. ‘If you look across the road now you will see St Philip’s Cathedral. See, it’s no bigger than St Chad’s.’
It was grand, though, Carmel thought, taking in the majestic arched, stained-glass windows. There was a tower above the main structure and a clock set just beneath the blue dome above it. All around the church were trees and tended lawns interspersed with paths, with benches here and there for people to rest on. Carmel thought it a very pleasant place altogether and would have liked the opportunity to sit and watch the world go by.
However, Lois was in no mood for sitting. She led the way up the road, and after a short distance it opened out before a tall and imposing building of light brick.
‘Our own Big Ben,’ Lois told Carmel with a smile, pointing to a large clock in a tower at the front of it, ‘known as “Big Brum” and this statue here is of Queen Victoria.’ She led Carmel over to look at the statute of the old and rather disgruntled-looking queen.
‘And that truly magnificent building in front of us is the Town Hall you spoke about?’ Carmel asked.
‘The very same.’
‘It’s huge!’ Carmel said, approaching the marvellous structure. ‘Look at the enormous arches on the ground floor and those giant columns soaring upwards from it, and all the carvings and decoration.’
‘You never really look at the place you live in,’ Lois said. ‘And I am ashamed to say that, though I knew all about the Town Hall, I’ve never truly seen its grandeur until now. It’s supposed to be based on a Roman temple.’
‘Gosh, Lois,’ said Carmel in admiration. ‘What a lovely city you have.’
Lois was surprised and pleased. ‘You haven’t even seen the shops yet,’ she said.
‘Well,’ said Carmel, ‘what are we waiting for?’ She linked arms with Lois and they sallied forth together.
Carmel came from a thriving town, a county town, which she’d always thought was quite big, but she saw that it was a dwarf of a place compared to Birmingham. The pavements on New Street, on every street, were thronged with people, and she had never seen such traffic as they turned towards the centre where cars, trucks, lorries and vans jostled for space with horse-drawn carts, diesel buses and clanking, swaying trams.
Carmel had never see a sight like it—so many people gathered together in one place—had never heard such noise and had never had the sour, acrid taste of engine fumes that had lodged in the back of her throat and her mouth. The size of the buildings shocked her as much as the array of shops or things on offer. Some of the stores were on several floors. Lois had taken her inside a few of these and she had stood mesmerised by the goods for sale, by the lights in the place, the smart shop assistants.
Some of the counters housed enormous silver tills, which the assistants would punch the front of and the prices would be displayed at the top. Carmel had seen tills before, but none as impressive as these. Best of all, though, were the counters that had no till at all. There the assistant would issue a bill, which, together with the customer’s money, would be placed in a little metal canister that was somehow attached to wires crisscrossing the shop. It would swoop through the air to a cashier who was usually sitting up in a high glass-sided little office. She would then deal