Rosie
‘I didn’t want to. I wanted to be a nurse,’ Rosie replied. ‘But I’m not old enough yet, so this seemed a perfect place to fill in the time. I’m thinking about looking for something else now. I don’t think I can stand the second floor much longer. The only trouble is I’ll have to find somewhere else to live too.’
‘I bet my mum would put you up if you were really stuck,’ he said impulsively. ‘My old room’s empty.’
Rosie was touched by his kindness. He was so different from the loutish types she’d met in the past at dance halls. She had a feeling that if she was to tell him the whole truth about herself and Carrington Hall he’d really understand. ‘I couldn’t expect her to do that,’ she said. ‘But it’s kind of you to offer. I was a bit fed up until tonight, being stuck indoors and stuff. I’m not an indoors person really and coming out on your motorbike has made me feel a lot better. Now tell me about these dingy digs of yours and your friends.’
They sat outside the pub until it grew dark, talking so easily and naturally Rosie felt as if she’d known him for years. He told her more about his family, their home and his mother.
‘She’s one of a dying breed of women,’ he laughed. ‘She lives only for the men in her life, cooking, baking, scrubbing. But she irritates me a bit sometimes. Dad’s worked his fingers to the bone to buy her a nice house with every luxury you can think of, but she still penny-pinches. Some of the gadgets he’s bought her, like an electric kettle, she won’t even use. She says it’s wasteful to boil a whole kettle when she only wants enough hot water for one cup of tea. She measures it out into a saucepan and heats it up in that. She only uses the vacuum cleaner once a week, the rest of the time she goes round with a dustpan and brush. Was your mother like that too?’
‘She was always cleaning too, as I remember,’ Rosie replied, glad of an opportunity to be truthful about how she was brought up. ‘But our cottage was very primitive, we didn’t even have electricity when she was alive, so she was forced to do everything the hard way.’ She bypassed any potential minefields by swiftly moving on to tell him about her first job with Mrs Bentley in Bristol and how she had lectured her in ‘doing things the correct way’.
‘I’m really glad she taught me all those things now,’ she giggled after she’d described how the table had to be set just so and how she corrected her speech. ‘Or I wouldn’t have known how to behave with the Cooks. I didn’t know how to lay a table properly, and I suppose I spoke like a farmer. Mr Bentley was nice though, and I loved their garden. I used to tidy it up when they weren’t around.’
Gareth looked at her in some amazement. ‘I really thought you came from a snooty family like the Cooks,’ he said. ‘You looked so at home with them in that posh place.’
‘I’d never seen anywhere that grand until that day,’ she admitted, explaining a little of how she came to be invited. ‘I’d just die for a home like that!’ She paused, then laughed. ‘That’s a very silly expression. You couldn’t get much pleasure out of it if you were dead, could you? Anyway if I was rich I’d want a garden. I love growing things.’
‘Then I’ll have to take you home to meet my mum,’ he said. ‘She doesn’t know the first thing about gardening, everything dies on her. Maybe you could give her a few pointers.’
Rosie glowed. It seemed as if Gareth wanted to see her again. After the terrible chilliness at Carrington Hall she so much wanted someone to like her.
As they got back to the motorbike Gareth took off his jacket. ‘Put it on,’ he said ‘You’ll be frozen without it.’
‘But you’ll be cold,’ she protested.
‘No I won’t, not if you hug me tightly,’ he grinned. ‘And besides, it isn’t that far back to your place and I can have it back then.’
It was the best feeling in the world sweeping through those dark country lanes with her arms tightly around his waist. She leaned her cheek against his back again, breathing in deeply that masculine warmth and the smells of the countryside. From time to time he covered her hands with one of his and squeezed them and she felt she wanted to sing and laugh she was so happy.
But all too soon they were back at Carrington Hall. Gareth parked the motorbike some two hundred yards away and Rosie hopped off.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening,’ she said, at a loss to know what to do or say next.
Gareth got off the bike and put it on its stand, then turning to her he took both her hands. ‘When can I see you again?’
‘Whenever you like,’ she said, hoping that didn’t sound too forward. ‘I can come out any evening.’
‘I wish I could,’ he said ruefully. ‘But they are always changing our shifts and making us do overtime. Can I telephone you?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Matron doesn’t allow us personal calls.’
‘Well, let’s say Saturday night,’ he suggested. ‘I’m almost certain they won’t make me work then, but I’m worried that if something does crop up I won’t know how to contact you.’
‘I could give you my Uncle Thomas’s phone number in Hampstead,’ she said in a moment’s inspiration. ‘If you couldn’t make it you could let him know. If you don’t turn up I could phone him.’
Gareth agreed this was a good emergency plan and wrote the number down on the back of his hand.
‘But I’ll be here at seven o’clock come hell or high water,’ he joked. ‘We could go to the pictures if it’s raining.’
There was a brief awkward silence. ‘I’d better go,’ Rosie said, taking off his jacket. ‘If we aren’t in by ten-thirty there’s trouble.’
Gareth put the jacket on. ‘Have you got time for a kiss?’ he asked, and without waiting for her reply he cupped her face in his two big hands and drew her closer.
Rosie had been kissed only twice before, both times inexpertly by boys she had no desire to kiss back, but the moment Gareth’s lips touched hers she felt she wanted to sink into his arms and stay there for ever.
His mouth was so warm and soft, lingering on hers as his fingers ran through her hair. For a brief moment she felt as if they were alone on the top of the highest hill in the world, with the moon and stars twinkling all around them like a sea of diamonds.
‘It’s almost half past,’ he said, stepping back from her, holding on to her hands. ‘I don’t want you banned from coming out again on Saturday.’
Rosie turned as she went up the path to the staff door and saw him drive on past the gates. The brief flash of his profile looked achingly beautiful. She didn’t know how she would get through the three days till she saw him again.
Rosie awoke with a start on Saturday morning and for a moment she was confused. Had the alarm gone off and Maureen switched it off as she’d done before?
She leaned up on one elbow. Maureen was fast asleep, her head almost hidden beneath the covers. Fortunately she hadn’t hidden the clock, it was still on the bedside cabinet. Rosie reached out for it and discovered it was only half past five.
Smiling to herself, she lay back down again. Another whole hour to think of how it would be when she saw Gareth tonight. She hoped it would rain so they could go to the pictures; she couldn’t imagine anything better than sitting in the dark with his arm around her. Should she wear the green costume she’d been wearing the day of the Coronation or a skirt and blouse? She wished she had a new dress, and some perfume. There wasn’t much hope of Mary letting her have a squirt of hers. But she didn’t care about the other girls ignoring her now, or what it might be like on the ward today. She had Gareth to think about.
She had just closed her eyes to sink back into some blissful dreams when the sound of raised voices startled her. At first she thought it was Linda and Mary having some sort of squabble, but as she sat up she realized it was coming from further away.
Maureen sat up with a jerk, her eyes wild with panic. ‘Have we overslept?’ she asked, fumbling on the bedside cabinet for her glasses.
Rosie was tempted to say yes just for the spiteful pleasure in watching the girl scurry ab
out needlessly. But it was nice to hear Maureen actually speak for once. ‘No, it’s only ten to six,’ Rosie assured her. ‘Listen, something’s going on downstairs!’
They both listened for a moment; the voices were muffled but angry sounding. Both girls got out of bed and went out into the corridor, where they were met by Linda, also in her nightdress. She was just coming back through the door which led to the staircase. ‘It’s the governor, Mr Brace-Coombes,’ she said in hushed, shocked tones. ‘I dunno what’s going on, but ‘e’s down there on the second floor with a couple of women. Matron’s throwing a bleedin’ fit!’
‘Let me see,’ Maureen said eagerly, pushing her way through to the door, but Linda hauled her back and warned her to keep out of it.
Rosie felt her stomach lurch. She had been over to visit Thomas on Thursday night and he had said Miss Pemberton was in town and that she intended to speak to Brace-Coombes. She guessed that Miss Pemberton had decided to start some action today.
She had been waiting for something to happen, longing for it, but now it had she was scared. How much longer would it be before everyone knew who she was?
‘What shall we do then?’ Maureen asked Linda. ‘Should we get dressed and go down or what?’
‘I dunno,’ Linda shrugged. ‘I don’t like the sound of it at all.’
Rosie wondered why Linda looked so nervous. Normally nothing bothered her.
‘You could go down,’ Maureen said, looking right at Rosie with a malicious look on her face. ‘After all, you work there.’
‘I don’t think any of us ought to do anything until it’s the proper time to go down for breakfast,’ Rosie said more bravely than she felt. ‘Not unless someone calls us.’
It was the longest half-hour Rosie had ever known. She got washed and dressed as Maureen did too. But she could feel the older girl’s eyes on her, almost hear her suspicious mind turning over, and she began to tremble with nerves.
‘You aren’t saying much,’ Maureen said at length. ‘Why’s that? Could it be that rumpus downstairs has got something to do with you?’
Rosie was just going to deny it, but anger at the way this girl had treated her got the better of her. ‘Maybe it has,’ she snapped. ‘If you must know I’m glad Mr Brace-Coombes has decided to pay a visit, it’s long overdue. You know better than anyone that there’s terrible things going on in this place. I just wonder why you’ve kept quiet about it?’
‘You think you’re so special, don’t you?’ Maureen sneered. ‘Of course, it’s easy for you, you could go home to Auntie Molly any time you like. Some of us haven’t got homes, and we have to put up with things just to keep our jobs.’
At those self-pitying words something just snapped inside Rosie and all the anger she’d kept pent up for so long spilled out. ‘You make me sick with your whingeing and whining,’ she snarled. ‘I’ve always been nicer to you than anyone else in this place, but you turned against me for nothing. Don’t you think it’s time you took a good look at yourself to see why people don’t like you. You’re a snivelling coward, Maureen Jackson, and a sneak. I bet you know every last bad thing that goes on in this place. Now for once in your life do something worthwhile with it. Go down there now and tell Mr Brace-Coombes all you know.’
She expected Maureen to say something equally wounding back, but instead her face crumpled. ‘I can’t,’ she said and began to blubber. ‘I’m scared.’
‘Scared of what? Of Matron?’ Rosie said contemptuously. ‘I doubt she’ll even last the day out here now that her boss has got a whiff of the stink on the second floor. What’s she got over you anyway?’
There was a moment’s silence, and to Rosie’s surprise Maureen sank down on the bed and began to sob.
Rosie could never be hard on anyone once they were upset. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Tell me.’
‘I did something bad when I first came here,’ Maureen blurted out, her hands half covering her face. ‘Matron covered it up for me, but she always reminds me. If I say anything today, she’ll tell Mr Brace-Coombes and he’ll throw me out.’
‘What did you do?’ Rosie’s sympathies were fully aroused now. After all, she had a great deal to fear from Matron too. But if Miss Pemberton was downstairs, Rosie knew that while she wouldn’t be out on the streets tonight, Maureen might be. ‘Go on, tell me. I might be able to put in a good word for you.’
‘I stole Mr Brace-Coombes’s wallet,’ Maureen whispered.
‘You did what?’ Rosie gasped. ‘When? How?’
‘It was years ago, when I first came here. He was talking to some people in the sitting-room. It was in his overcoat pocket out in the hall. I took it. Matron turned the place upside down when he told her it was gone and she found it under my mattress.’
Rosie just stared at the girl. ‘And I suppose she said she wouldn’t tell him it was you as long as you did exactly as she said after that?’
Maureen sobbed and nodded. ‘She told him she found it in the first-floor day room. She said it was one of the patients as they came in from the garden. I’ve tried to leave here a few times, but she won’t give me a reference and she keeps threatening to tell him the truth if I don’t tell her other things.’
‘Well, a reference from her won’t be worth anything after today,’ Rosie said bluntly. ‘But if you play fair and be honest with those ladies downstairs who are with Mr Brace-Coombes, you might just get one.’
Maureen looked at Rosie through two great pools of tears. She knew by hints Matron had made that this girl was going to come very unstuck soon. She didn’t know what it was, but she suspected Rosie must have done something even worse than her. She had been so pleased up until now; she hated Rosie because she was pretty and everyone liked her. Even in the past few days when everyone was ignoring her because they’d been told to, she knew most of them felt bad about it.
‘Why are you so brave?’ she asked. ‘Aren’t you scared of anything?’
‘Of course I’m scared sometimes,’ Rosie admitted. ‘I am right now because we don’t know what is going to happen. But I’m more angry at what Matron has been doing with this place than anything else. And so should you be. Now stop thinking about yourself and put the patients first. They haven’t got the brains or the strength to fight back. You have.’
At six-thirty the bell rang as usual and as Rosie and Maureen walked down the stairs to breakfast, closely followed by Linda and Mary, the second floor sounded ominously quiet.
Linda crept over to the door and peered through the viewing window. ‘I can’t see anyone in there,’ she whispered back to the others. ‘Where do you reckon they’ve gone?’
Downstairs in the staff dining-room everything looked quite normal. Pat Clack had the table laid for breakfast, a smell of frying bacon was coming from the kitchen. The girls said nothing, just helped themselves to cornflakes and tea. Gladys Thorpe came in a few minutes later yawning sleepily; she didn’t look as if she’d heard anything. Rosie wondered where Aylwood was – she usually got here first in the mornings and left as they came in.
The cooked breakfast was hardly in front of them before Miss Pemberton swept in wearing a white overall. She gave Rosie a sharp look as if warning her to show no recognition.
‘Good morning, girls,’ she said in a cool voice, her grey eyes scanning each of the girls’ surprised faces. ‘My name is Sister Pemberton. Matron has been suspended from her duties and I am here with some assistants to take over for the time being. After you have finished your breakfasts I would like you all to gather in the hall. As we have something of an emergency today, I am relying on you all to co-operate with me.’
She swept out again towards the laundry and seconds later they heard her speaking to the domestics.
‘Who on earth’s she?’ Linda asked in a whisper. ‘And what’s she done with Matron?’
‘Where’s Aylwood?’ Mary asked, her blue eyes as big as saucers.
Gladys wanted to know what was going on and she seemed to suddenly wake up as the girls t
old her everything they knew. ‘Someone’s been telling tales,’ she said darkly. ‘I wonder who it is.’
Linda looked pointedly at Rosie. Mary gave a little gasp and Maureen dropped her eyes. Gladys looked at their faces, then back to Rosie. ‘You?’ she said in some surprise. ‘Why?’
Rosie hadn’t felt any real animosity towards Gladys until the day she’d rounded on Rosie up on the second floor. But once she’d known the nurse was party to all that went on and didn’t seem to have even a shred of guilt about it, that, to Rosie’s mind, put her in the same camp as Matron, Aylwood and Saunders, even if she wasn’t actually cruel herself.
‘Yes, it was me,’ Rosie pushed her plate aside and stared back at Gladys in defiance. ‘And before you say anything more, I’d just like to point out I think all of you are the most pathetic, yellow-bellied cowards to work here all this time and not to speak out about it yourselves.’
She left then, sweeping out into the corridor before they could see her shaking hands or hear her heart thumping.
Miss Pemberton was an excellent actress. As all the girls gathered in the hall in a row, she was looking at a staff rota and barely looked at Rosie.
‘Rosemary Smith,’ she called out. ‘I believe you’ve been working on the second floor recently?’
‘Yes, Sister,’ Rosie replied.
‘Well, I shall be helping you up there in a moment or two. My assistant Staff Nurse Clegg is already up there, so go on up and join her. Maureen Jackson, you go there too.’
Maureen’s eyes behind her glasses looked wide with fright. ‘B-b-but Sister,’ she stammered.
‘Just go, Jackson,’ Miss Pemberton said firmly. ‘I won’t have any arguing.’
As they went up the stairs, Rosie could hear Miss Pemberton asking each of the others to identify themselves and asking them to carry on with their usual duties. Maureen was dragging her feet and when Rosie looked back her face was white with fright.
Staff Nurse Clegg was waiting for Rosie and Maureen in the office on the second floor. She was a big woman with a jolly red face, wearing a dark blue nurse’s dress to which she had already added a rubber apron. If she knew anything at all about Rosie she didn’t let on. Neither Saunders nor Aylwood was there.