Never While the Grass Grows

She heard herself doing just that, a little surprised because she hadn’t really been thinking about it at all. ‘But I should like a day or two in which to get ready,’ she stated. ‘When do I go?’

Mr Yates’s: ‘The Socrates sails on Saturday and you are to report for duty on Friday, you will be told when and where,’ rather took her breath.

‘I will arrange for you to leave your duties here on Tuesday evening, Sister. That will give you two days in which to prepare yourself.’ Miss Bellamy smiled very faintly and when Octavia said: ‘Yes, Miss Bellamy,’ in a suitably meek voice, dismissed her graciously.

Once on the other side of the door, Octavia took to her heels. No nurse, and certainly no Sister, ran in corridors or wards unless there was fire or haemorrhage, but for once she forgot rules. She nipped up staircases and down passages at a splendid speed until she reached the Sisters’ sitting room once more. They were all still there; Octavia closed the door behind her with a flourish and cried: ‘Guess what?’

Everyone turned to look at her as she went on: ‘I’m to stand in for Suzy on the Socrates…’

There was an immediate outburst of surprised voices as she went to perch on the arm of a chair. ‘It’s true,’ she assured them, ‘as I was passing the Consultants’ room…’ she plunged into her story.

Sister Moody took the news sourly and so, for that matter, did John Waring. Octavia’s conciliatory: ‘But it’s only for two weeks,’ was useless in the face of his unexpected annoyance, almost as though he had made up his mind that she was going away to spite him. She felt bewildered by it, because they had been good friends but never anything more, and her lack of conceit didn’t allow of her realising that he was considered something of a celebrity in the doctors’ quarters because he had been dating the beautiful Sister Lock for quite some time. She told him briskly not to behave like a crusty old man and was glad for once when their snatched conversation was brought to a close by the ambulance siren.

She had spent a wakeful hour or two during the night laying her plans; she would have to do some shopping; Mr Yates had been right when he had said that she would know what to take—well, of course she would; any girl would, but it hadn’t entered his learned head that perhaps she hadn’t a wardrobe geared to take two weeks on a cruise ship in its stride. She wouldn’t need much, for she was sensible enough to know that shore leave would be on a rota system and probably brief, but lying in bed mentally surveying the summer clothes she hadn’t expected to wear again that year, she had come to the conclusion that they would require one or two additions. Cotton dresses and perhaps, although she was doubtful about this, a new evening dress. She should have asked about meals on board; did the nurses eat with the passengers or on their own? and surely if they did eat with everyone else, they would have to dress as they did? No one, she concluded, would want to eat his dinner opposite or beside a uniformed nurse. She closed her eyes, glad that she had decided what to do, and had then opened them again to review, hazily, her bank balance. There would be enough. She closed her eyes again and went to sleep.

Monday and Tuesday slid past at a great rate, she went off duty on Tuesday evening, late and tired and grumpy because Sister Moody had meanly taken an evening for herself and left her to work until nine o’clock, but late though it was there was something she had to do. She went first to Men’s Medical and found Charlie still awake.

‘Jist the gal I wanted,’ he told her perkily. ‘I’m going the day arter termorrer. Got a job, jist like yer said.’

Octavia settled silently on to the bed. ‘Tell me about it,’ she whispered. ‘Is it in London? I hope it’s not heavy work…’

He grinned at her, showing terrible teeth. ‘Don’t yer fret, lady—it’s a real good job, ’andyman in a big ’ouse. I ’ain’t seen the boss yet, only some gent ’o’s acting for ’im. A real gent, too, coming ter fetch me an’ all…’

Octavia frowned, ‘Yes, but Charlie, you ought to know something about it first…’

‘Not ter worry, Sister. Doctor Toms, ’e says ’e knows the boss personal and ’e’s a real bloke.’

She looked at Charlie’s face; it would never be youthful again, but at least it had filled out nicely and his eyes were bright and hopeful. She smiled and asked: ‘How much are they going to give you?’

Charlie told her and he grinned again, as his bony frame seemed to swell with pride.

‘Smashing, Charlie, the best of luck. I’m going away for a couple of weeks, but do let me know how you get on.’

They shook hands like old friends and Octavia slipped from the darkened ward and made her way to Women’s Surgical; there was still Mrs Stubbs to say goodbye to.

That lady was sitting up in bed, her bedside light on, her spectacles on her nose, mending a pair of tights. ‘That poor young nurse,’ she explained, ‘comes on duty and trips against one of those nasty trolleys and ruins her tights; I’m just catching the ladder before it gets too bad.’ She chuckled gently. ‘Night Sister won’t be round for another half an hour.’

‘Well, it’s splendid to see you looking so fit, Mrs Stubbs. When are you going to your new job, and where is it?’

‘Day after tomorrow, love, ’elping the ’ousekeeper, that’s what I’m going ter do. The gent what’s engaged me ’as several ’omes, so I don’t rightly know where I’ll be. That nice Mr Yates knows him, so I’m ever so ’appy. It’s an ill wind that don’t blow no one no good. I’ve been ever so ’appy ’ere, but it’ll be nice to be doing something again.’ She snipped a thread and glanced at Octavia. ‘And you’re off late? ’Ad a busy day, I’ll be bound.’

‘Well, so-so. I’m going away for a couple of weeks, so I’ll say goodbye, Mrs Stubbs, but I hope I’ll see you again; you must come and see us all, you know, once you’re settled in.’ She held out her hand and bent to kiss the elderly cheek. ‘I’m so glad everything’s turned out so well for you and I hope you’ll love your job—whoever gets you is jolly lucky.’

And that was true, she thought, as she made her way to the Nurses’ Home. Nowadays, nice cosy little women like Mrs Stubbs were few and far between, and she would be handy to have about the house, mending and ironing and doing a little plain cooking and baby-sitting on the side. Octavia wondered fleetingly if the family she was going to was a large one. She had forgotten to ask, not that Mrs Stubbs seemed to know much about it—nor had Charlie for that matter. It seemed strange, but then if Mr Yates and Doctor Toms vouched for them… She opened the sitting room door and went in to cries of: ‘There you are—where have you been? It’s half past nine… We saved some tea… Have you done your packing?’

She had decided to go home on Thursday afternoon and shop before she went; it seemed strange to hear everyone trooping off to breakfast the next morning and know that she was free to lie in bed if she wanted to. Not that she had the time for that; she bathed and dressed and got herself a sketchy meal in the little pantry at the end of the corridor and hurried out. Fenwick’s, she had decided, or perhaps Wallis’s, or even Dickins and Jones.

She spent a busy morning and an even busier afternoon; the shops were full of autumn clothes and cotton dresses were hard to find. The departments selling cruise clothes had plenty but at prices which hardly seemed justifiable for the brief hours she expected to spend off duty. She found two finally; not quite what she wanted, but she was clever with her needle and there would be time to alter them to suit herself. The evening dress was a good deal easier to find, indeed, the choice was so wide that she found it difficult to choose. She settled finally for a pastel patterned organza, very plainly cut and costing a good deal more than she had intended to pay, so that by way of righting this, she purchased a pair of gold sandals, flimsy things with high heels; it was only when she got back with them that she found herself wondering if they weren’t quite practical for on board ship. ‘But who wants to be practical?’ she asked herself out loud. Probably she would spend most of her day in sensible lace-ups and a uniform.

She tried on the new outfits that evening before an audience of most of her friends, and everyone agreed that the sandals had been an absolute must with the new dress; such an expensive garment would have been ruined with anything less—besides, one might as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Octavia went to bed pleased with her day and tomorrow she would go home and tell her father about her temporary job. Probably he would forget all about it the moment she left the house, but she would send him a card from the first port of call just to remind him.

There was a letter for her in the morning, though she had no time to read it until she was in the train on the way to Alresford, and indeed she had quite forgotten it until the passenger opposite her in the carriage began to read a letter of his own. She opened the bulky envelope to discover that she was to report for duty at Southampton Docks at six o’clock on Friday evening. It went on to detail her duties, her free time and her salary; it also informed her of the itinerary—Malta, Athens, Rhodes, Alexandria, Sicily…it sounded marvellous provided she had a chance to go on shore, but that, it seemed, was left to the discretion of the senior ship’s doctor. She folded the missive and put it back tidily in its envelope, hoping that that gentleman would be easy to work for and that there would be no dire emergency while she was on board. She was highly trained, skilled in theatre work, midwifery and children’s ailments, as well as capable of dealing with the nastiest casualties, but there was always something… She shook off her apprehension, telling herself that she was twenty-seven years old and perfectly able to deal with anything which might come her way. ‘And let’s hope that the other nurses are friendly,’ she told herself silently, ‘as I suppose we see rather a lot of each other.’ She reassured herself with the thought that it was only for a fortnight, anyway.

She had telephoned her father on the previous evening, but there was no one at the station. She took a taxi home and opened the front door calling: ‘It’s me, Father,’ and Mrs Lovelace stuck her head round the kitchen door to say: ‘Miss Octavia, what a surprise! I didn’t know…will you be here for lunch? I was just going to dish up.’

Octavia put down her case. ‘I telephoned Father yesterday—I expect he forgot to tell you, Mrs Lovelace. I’m just here until tomorrow afternoon, and don’t worry about lunch, I’ll have something cold.’

Mrs Lovelace looked shocked. ‘Indeed you will not! I made a nice little steak and kidney pie for your father, there’ll be enough for the two of you if I do some more veg. Just you go and see him while I see to it.’

Professor Lock was deeply engrossed in a book when she went in. He looked up briefly and murmured: ‘Octavia—how very nice to see you,’ and returned to his reading until she leaned over and took the book from him.

‘Hullo, Father—I telephoned you yesterday evening, but I expect it slipped your mind. I’m going again tomorrow.’

‘Your weekends seem to get shorter and shorter, my dear.’

‘This isn’t a weekend, my dear. It’s only Thursday, but I thought I’d better let you know that I shall be away for a couple of weeks. I’m taking a temporary job as ship’s nurse because they want someone in a hurry.’

He took the spectacles off his nose and looked at her. ‘My dear child, I had no idea that you had lost your job at St Maud’s!’

‘I haven’t, Father,’ she smiled at him in a motherly fashion. ‘Mr Yates, the Senior Consultant Surgeon, asked me if I would fill in for the nurse who’s been taken ill. I’m to go to Southampton tomorrow and join the SS Socrates there. It’s a Mediterranean cruise—I hope I’ll see something of the places we’ll visit.’

Her father brightened. ‘Athens? Delightful, Octavia, quite delightful, there are several places which you must visit.’

‘If I get shore leave,’ she reminded him gently.

He waved an airy hand. ‘Surely that will be granted if you particularly wish to see something…let me see…I must write a list of the more interesting monuments.’

‘Yes, dear, and I’ll do my best to look at every one of them.’ Privately she thought it very unlikely that she would have the chance to see more than a modicum of them, but it was nice to see her absentminded parent so interested. She left him happily embarked on his list and went off to her room to get ready for lunch.

She told Mrs Lovelace all about it while she helped her dish up and then wrote down directions as to how she might be reached in an emergency, and Mrs Lovelace, while expressing her doubts about telephoning a ship in the middle of the sea, miles from anywhere, promised to carry them out if occasion should arise. ‘Though Doctor Dodds was here only last week,’ she observed comfortably, ‘having dinner with your pa, and he told me that he was in fine shape, Miss Octavia. But don’t you worry, I’ll look after him.’

Octavia spent the rest of the day re-packing her case, listening patiently to her parent’s instructions as to what she should and should not see, deeming it a waste of time to point out to him that probably she would have no chance to see any one of them. They had their tea together in his study and presently she went along to the kitchen to cook their supper which Mrs Lovelace had so carefully prepared.

She spent the next morning visiting some of her numerous friends and after lunch bade her father goodbye, took a taxi to the station and began her journey to Southampton; not a long one, but it meant changing at Winchester and getting a taxi from the station to the docks.

She sat back in the cab as it made its way through the crowded streets feeling excited and faintly worried that she might not like the job, or worse, the people she was to work with wouldn’t like her, but nothing of this showed on her face. She looked calm and very pretty in the coffee-coloured blouse and skirt with their matching suede jerkin that she had chosen to wear, under the mistaken impression that the outfit made her look older and rather staid. She could see the ship now, lying alongside the Customs building, she looked huge; and Octavia wondered if she would find her way round it easily. She would have to get hold of a plan and learn it off by heart.

There weren’t many cars or taxis around, although there were men loading the ship and several figures going up and down the gang-ways. Octavia got out of the taxi and paid the driver and found a porter at her elbow almost at once. ‘The Socrates?’ he asked. ‘Ship’s company, miss?’

She supposed that was what she was, so she told him yes and found herself ushered through Customs with the minimum of fuss and with the porter still carrying her case, waved towards the aft gangway. There was an officer at the top, a nice, pleasant-faced man, with a wrinkled face and bright blue eyes, who gave her an enquiring look and waited for her to speak.

‘Octavia Lock,’ she told him in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘I’m to replace the nurse who’s gone off sick.’

He glanced at the papers in his hand. ‘Welcome aboard, Miss Lock.’ He turned to a passing steward. ‘Take Nurse to her quarters, will you?’ He dismissed her with a kindly nod. ‘The other two are already aboard, so you’ll be able to get acquainted before the doctors arrive.’

She followed the steward down two decks and then along a corridor lined with doors, crossed a foyer and plunged through a small door into another smaller passage. It was quite short and held only four doors, at the first of which the steward stopped and knocked. A voice told him to go in and he opened the door, put Octavia’s case inside and stood aside to let her enter.

The cabin was quite large with two bunks against one wall and a third facing them. There was a good sized window, a dressing table, built-in cupboards and two chairs, over and above these there were two young women in the cabin. They turned to stare at Octavia as she stood just inside the door and she returned their look pleasantly, smiling while she studied them in her turn. The younger of the two was smiling at her from a round youthful face framed with soft light brown hair; she looked about twenty-two or so and was dressed rather untidily in a jersey dress which did nothing for her. Octavia took to her at once and her smile widened as the girl got to her feet and put out a hand. ‘Hullo—I’m Mary Silver, the junior nurse. You’re Octavia Lock, aren’t you? This is Joan Wise, she’s the senior ship’s nurse.’