The Nurse by J. Corrigan (list of ebook readers txt) 📕

‘Have a good trip,’ I said.

Despite the hassle with my bag, which the taxi company finally found on the day we were due to go home, my body sighed with physical contentment on the flight back to England. It was good that I’d met Daniel’s sister, but although I liked what I’d seen of her, I wasn’t quite sure if I’d seen anything other than what she’d wanted me to see. My last impression of her was her kissing Daniel; it had left an imprint inside my mind that persisted for hours after her departure. But during our Spanish sojourn Daniel and I had talked a lot about the baby, and the plan of action regarding my course. My placement loomed, but I’d get through it. And we’d take everything from there.

39

11 July 1991

I was sitting on the edge of the bed in the sterile nurses’ accommodation bedroom at the Leeds Royal Infirmary where the esteemed orthopaedic consultant Mr Michael Warner worked. Daniel had dropped me off the day before, saying I’d have time to get organised before the start of the placement.

It was just before 6 p.m. and the evening sun was still gushing through the greasy window. My stomach grumbled, and although I was hungry, I couldn’t face eating. The nausea had got a lot worse since Spain. I’d bought food and put it in the communal fridge, but I had no inclination to cook anything, and so I just sat there and mulled over my melancholy.

I was feeling vulnerable and insecure after failing my writtens, although I’d been sent a letter from Wilko himself informing me I could retake. Daniel had been great, supporting me a hundred per cent. On the journey to Leeds he’d concocted all sorts of plans about how I’d continue my studies, pass the re-sits and finish the course and still be able to be a mum to a new baby. But now, here, I realised the morning sickness wouldn’t allow me to function at my best. Mr Warner would be an absolute devil to be a student under at the best of times. This wasn’t quite how I’d planned this part of my life, but already I loved the baby with a driving passion. And I loved Daniel too.

The thoughts were still swirling round my head as I got into bed, but I was exhausted, and with the sun on my face and an empty stomach, I quickly fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning to tapping on my door. One of the other students on the same placement as me. Stella.

‘Rose, some bloke’s just delivered flowers.’

I looked at the clock. 6.30 a.m. I’d slept for hours. We had to be in the hospital’s main reception to meet Mr Warner at 8.30 on the dot. I jumped out of bed, opened the door. ‘Who?’

‘I’m guessing the flower delivery company? But he didn’t look like a delivery man.’

I moved quickly towards the greasy window that overlooked the car park and saw the MG. I peered closer. Ed in the driving seat. Daniel had sent him all that way to deliver flowers. Typical. Ed would have hated having to do it. My mood brightened. ‘It’s my boyfriend’s mate, I think.’

‘It’s a huge box. They’re in the kitchen. Someone loves you, Rose,’ Stella said, grinning at me.

I liked Stella. She studied at Queen Mary in London. I’d been offered a place there, and for a moment I wished I’d taken it, because then I’d be on the same course as her. But if I had taken the place I wouldn’t have been near my mum and Sam, and I wouldn’t have met Daniel. And I wouldn’t be pregnant and hanging by my teeth onto the course and career I’d always wanted.

I rushed down the two flights of stairs to the kitchen, Stella behind me.

The flowers were beautiful. I read the card.

With love, Daniel. Good luck, and keep our little family safe. X

‘I’ll put them in a vase for you while you get ready.’ She surveyed my dishevelled appearance.

‘Thanks, Stella. You’re a peach.’

I was in my room when I heard screams coming from the kitchen. I ran back down the stairs.

Stella was standing there, the flowers on the table, an old tin hospital-issue vase ready to go. Her hands were covered in blood. ‘Your boyfriend’s a nutcase, Rose.’

‘What is it?’

She moved to the sink and picked up a mass of I-didn’t-know-what. I stared at it. Viscera. Wrapped in cling film. Nausea overcame me. I pulled at the thin plastic. It looked like a uterus; I’d seen a few during my surgical placements. I peered closer. Definitely a uterus, but not a human one. Probably a cow, a sheep, maybe. I looked around for a plastic bag, found one and put the thing inside. Cleared up the sink. Stella hadn’t moved.

‘Wash your hands,’ I said. ‘I’ll deal with this. I don’t want you to be late for the first meet with Mr Warner. Where was this?’ I pointed to the mass inside the bag.

‘In the bottom of the bouquet box. Bloody hell, Rose.’

I felt so sick; I had no idea how I’d cope with the first day at the hospital.

Stella left. I carried on clearing up. I put the flowers in the bin along with the bag holding the uterus. Then I went to the communal loo and threw up.

I didn’t know what to think, but I couldn’t think about anything, because I had to make the 8.30 start.

That first day was a nightmare. I couldn’t remember anything about the human body, and Mr Warner clearly hated me. Stella kept me going and knew enough not to ask me anything. But she was aware I’d been throwing up most of the day.

It took Mr Warner and his cronies a week to put two and two together, and another week for them to recommend a termination of my placement. When they used that phrase, termination, I laughed uncontrollably. Then began to