Never While the Grass Grows

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.’

Octavia transferred her gaze to the other occupant of the cabin; older than she had expected, well into her thirties, she imagined, with a handsome face exquisitely made up and platinum blonde hair which was just a shade too blonde. She was beautifully turned out, too, and the smile she gave Octavia was charming, only her eyes didn’t smile. Octavia experienced the unpleasant feeling that she wasn’t liked and dismissed the thought as fanciful as she exchanged greetings with her. If they were going to be together for the next two weeks, the quicker they got to like each other the better. Her good resolution was strained to its limit when Joan Wise said in a decided voice: ‘The top bunk’s yours; you’re the newcomer, you see. You’re senior to Mary but junior to me. I don’t know what you were doing before you took this job, but I’m in charge—just as long as you remember that.’

Octavia murmured something or other and looked about her. It was a pity that she seemed to have exchanged Sister Moody for another of her kind, but that wouldn’t really matter, probably once they were at sea, they would see little of each other than during sleeping hours. ‘Will you tell me which drawer I may have and where I can hang my things?’ she asked them both, but it was Mary who answered and showed her where they were. ‘And here’s the shower,’ she opened a door and displayed the compact little place. ‘If you like to unpack first, I expect Joan will explain duties and so on.’

They were all on duty each morning and took it in turns to be on duty in the afternoons, and provided there was nothing much to do, two of them would be free in the evenings. As for shore leave—well, that depended very much on the doctor. ‘It’s no good you expecting to go ashore each time we call somewhere,’ Joan explained sharply. ‘There’s a rota and we take turns. I arrange it and he OKs it—I’m afraid you’ll just have to accept what’s offered. And of course if anything crops up, you’ll probably have to do without your time off.’

She eyed Octavia’s case. ‘I hope you haven’t brought too much with you—you’ll be lucky if you get a chance to wear evening clothes more than a couple of times. We usually sunbathe in the afternoons when we’re free, but you can do what you like; use the library or do some shopping or swim.’ She added with a nasty little edge to her voice: ‘Just remember you’re not a passenger, that’s all.’

Octavia gave her a cool glance. ‘Oh, I won’t do that. Do I fetch my uniform?’

‘It’ll be brought here. You’d better unpack. Mary and I are going down to the hospital, so come down there when you’re ready and I’ll show you round.’

Left to herself, Octavia put away her things, thankful that she hadn’t brought a great deal with her, for there wasn’t all that much space left for her. Mary, she reflected, would be pleasant enough, but she didn’t think she was going to like Joan Wise. She seemed jealous of her authority, which was a bit silly, seeing that they were all three trained nurses, and Octavia suspected that if anyone was going short of their off duty it wouldn’t be Sister Wise.

It didn’t take her long to tidy away her wardrobe and presently she left the cabin, went back through the door and into the foyer, and studied the ship’s plan on one of the walls. Sister Wise hadn’t told her where the hospital was, but it couldn’t be all that hard to find. It took a few moments to decide which was the front and which the back of the ship, and to discover that the staircases were numbered; it was just a question of finding the right staircase nearest the hospital, which was several decks below her.

She did rather well, meeting no one at all and taking careful note of where she was going. The hospital was clearly marked, with a waiting room for patients beside it. Octavia opened its door and went in, agreeably surprised to find that it looked very like St Maud’s on a very small scale. She could hear voices coming from a half-opened door at the end of the passage, but she paused to peep in the doors on either side of her. The doctor’s surgery on her right, and very nice too, beautifully fitted up and elegant to boot; the other door revealed a four-bedded ward and beyond it, another bigger ward. She closed the door and poked her pretty head round the next door—the duty room, much better than the office they had on Casualty at Maud’s. She had reached the half-open door by now and pushed it wide. This was the theatre, small but otherwise the prototype of any hospital theatre, with a small anaesthetic room next to it and the scrub room leading from it. She was taken round it at leisure, giving her time to discover where everything was and ask all the questions she wanted to. They were in the anaesthetic room when a young man in slacks and a sweater joined them, to be introduced as Colin White, the junior doctor.

He shook Octavia’s hand and beamed at her. ‘I say, this is jolly,’ he told her. ‘I had no idea…’ He stopped and went a little red in the face, then went on; ‘I hear this is your first trip, so I hope you enjoy it. It’s my sixth and Mary has been at it for several months, and Joan here is an old hand, aren’t you, Joan?’

Sister Wise’s eyes flashed, but she smiled thinly. ‘Oh, a very old hand,’ she repeated. ‘Now run along, there’s a good man, I’ve got to show Nurse Lock everything this afternoon; there won’t be much time after today.’

He went reluctantly, stopped to ask Octavia if he might show her round the ship later on and when she said yes, beamed more widely than ever.

They were on the point of leaving the hospital when Mary whispered: ‘Oh, here’s the boss.’

Octavia had turned back to read a notice she hadn’t seen, but she looked round, curious to see if the senior doctor was as nice as Colin White appeared to be. He did indeed look nice, and very handsome—even more so than when she had seen him for the first time in Casualty. He advanced to meet them, in no hurry at all, looking faintly annoyed about something and when he saw her, frowning fiercely. Octavia, a forthright girl, ignored the frown.

‘Well,’ she exclaimed cheerfully, ‘fancy meeting you again! Of course, now I think about it, you just had to be a doctor.’

CHAPTER THREE

OCTAVIA was aware that Joan Wise was staring at her; so was Mary, but Mary was smiling whereas Joan wasn’t. As for the newcomer, his frown had deepened if anything so that she was tempted to add: ‘You don’t look at all pleased to see me.’

He didn’t answer that; merely said formally: ‘How do you do, Miss Lock,’ and turned to Joan Wise, who gave him a dazzling smile and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

‘We didn’t expect you quite so soon,’ she told him in what Octavia privately thought to be a ridiculously sugary voice. ‘I’ve just been showing our new nurse round.’

His heavy-lidded eyes rested upon Octavia for a few seconds. ‘Ah, yes—of course, although I’m sure she will have no difficulty in coping. She is Casualty Sister at St Maud’s and is very experienced.’

Nicely said, approved Octavia silently; it was a pity that his tone had implied that she was not only experienced but no longer in the first flush of youth. Common sense reminded her that she wasn’t, but what girl wants to be reminded that thirty isn’t all that far off, even if she were as pretty as a picture? Octavia frowned in her turn and caught his eye; it was disconcerting to see a decided twinkle there.

He spoke to Mary next with a quiet casualness which put that rather shy girl at her ease, and then turned to Octavia. ‘Although we have met and I know your name, I think perhaps you won’t know mine—van der Weijnen, Dutch. I should explain too that I am filling in for Doctor Blamey—he will be rejoining the ship when we return to Southampton.’ He smiled at her briefly and added to Sister Wise: ‘We are fortunate in having someone as experienced as yourself, Sister Wise, to guide us through any possible pitfalls.’

Octavia suppressed a smile. Anyone less likely to need guiding than the new doctor she had yet to meet, and as for Joan Wise…she was much more likely to give anyone a good push into a pit and then stand on its edge and point out their error. She stood quietly while the doctor and Sister Wise exchanged small talk and presently, dismissed by a nod from Sister Wise, accompanied Mary up on deck to see what was going on.

‘She’s got her claws into him,’ observed Mary. ‘She’s all of thirty-five, you know, and all the older men are married—I don’t know if this one is, but I thought he was rather nice when we met him the other day, but of course he’s only with us for a fortnight.’ She looked anxiously at Octavia, ‘Do you think that’s time enough?’

‘Plenty, as long as he’s willing.’ Octavia paused and went on thoughtfully, ‘But I shouldn’t think he’d be all that easy…’

‘He was super, calling you Sister like that when Joan had just said Nurse in that scornful voice. I’ve not been a Sister, only a staff nurse; I expect you’re frightfully clever…’

‘Lord no—just luck. You know how a job comes up and there’s no one much for it? I was just lucky.’

‘He said you were very clever,’ persisted Mary.

‘Oh, he was just being pleasant—making conversation.

In any case, we only met the once and that for a very short time—he brought someone into Casualty one evening and I happened to be on duty.’ Octavia leaned her elbows on the ship’s rail and gazed down at the activities on the dock below. ‘Gosh, aren’t they busy? Are we free now or do we have to take duty in turns?’

‘Joan will tell us presently; she arranges the duties and she hates anyone to ask to have them changed, but if she’s in a good mood, I expect she’ll let you go ashore if she doesn’t want to.’

Octavia turned to look at her companion. ‘Tell me, Mary, what sort of girl left? I mean, before Suzy was appointed in her place?’

‘Oh, very quiet and kind of earnest; she always did exactly what Joan told her to do and she never once asked for time off to go ashore or anything like that, and she never went to any of the cabarets or went dancing when she was off duty…’

‘I have a horrid feeling,’ observed Octavia meditatively, ‘that I’m going to be a square peg in a round hole.’

She had no chance to test her theory for the moment, however; Sister Wise had disappeared for the time being, leaving Mary and herself to make sure that everything was exactly as it should be before the first of the passengers came on board the next day. It wasn’t until the following morning that she found time to discuss their duty hours with them, because she had come to bed long after the two of them were asleep. ‘Having a go at charming the boss,’ Mary had observed over breakfast. ‘She looks much younger by electric light…’

Octavia had laughed at that. ‘Mary, if I didn’t know what a nice girl you were I might think you were being catty!’ She poured second cups of coffee for them both. ‘Besides, Doctor van der Weijnen is old enough to take care of himself. Which reminds me—he’s a professor, too—I remember seeing it in the Casualty Book.’

Mary bit into a slice of toast. ‘Whatever made him take on this job? You don’t think he’s hiding from someone, or perhaps…’

‘Lord no, Mary—you heard what he said; he’s filling in for Doctor Blamey—possibly they’re friends and he’s got a couple of weeks’ holiday.’ She pushed back her chair. ‘Oughtn’t we to start thinking of this boat drill? It’s almost time.’

It was hard to take boat drill seriously. Octavia, swamped in a life-jacket, was inspected by the Captain and a little posse of officers, among whom were Doctor van der Weijnen and Colin White, who winked at her. She didn’t look at the Dutchman—easy enough, for her eyes were on a level with his tie, although she found herself tempted to glance up at him. Leave that to our Joan, she told herself severely, and obedient to orders tested the whistle dangling from her life-jacket.

They dispersed for coffee after that and Sister Wise joined them, notebook and pen in hand. ‘The duty hours,’ she explained loftily. ‘Eight o’clock until two o’clock and on call from ten o’clock at night until eight o’clock the following morning. Then from two o’clock until ten o’clock in the evening, the third rota is on call from eight o’clock until two o’clock and then free for the rest of the day—which means that on every third day we’re each free from two o’clock and on each third night one of us will be on call. Should there be a case during the night, whoever is on call must endeavour to cope by herself; we can’t have all three of us up all night. Of course, these times are changed when we are in port; we’ll settle that later.’ She fixed Octavia with a cold stare. ‘I hope you’re quite satisfied, Octavia?’ Not at all what Mary had told her—in fact a dreadful muddle, decided Octavia; such airy-fairy duty hours would end in confusion.

‘It sounds fine. I expect we have to do a bit of give and take between us?’

‘Naturally, but do understand that I am the one who arranges the duty hours.’

The first passengers arrived in the afternoon and the great ship, filling itself slowly with excited people, took on a holiday atmosphere. Octavia, her chores done, stood with Mary on deck and watched them come on board; mostly couples, and most of those not so very young, but there was a sprinkling of younger men and women too and several family parties in splendid spirits, and to her surprise, a number of very small babies.

‘There’ll be quite a few people travelling on their own,’ Mary told her. ‘There’s a party for them all tomorrow evening so they can get to know each other.’

‘I don’t think I’d like to come alone. Do we go to dinner tonight?’

‘Rather—we sit at different tables and help the conversation, though no one needs any help after the first day. Have you got something pretty to wear? Tomorrow we’ll be in uniform—perhaps sooner if anyone’s ill tonight.’

Octavia turned to look at her. ‘You’re a cheerful little thing, aren’t you? The weather’s lovely. I shouldn’t think anyone would realise that we’re moving, let alone bobbing up and down, and surely they’re all too interested to think about being ill.’

‘Well, yes,’ Mary agreed, ‘I’ve never known anyone be ill on the first night. Look, there’s the boss coming up the gangway. He’s very handsome, isn’t he? Our Joan’s going to get some stiff competition.’ Mary giggled. ‘I say, why don’t you cut her out? You’re ever so pretty, Octavia. I bet you could if you tried.’

Octavia turned away from the rail. ‘I’m not in the least interested in him,’ she declared briskly, and knew as she said it that there was no truth in the remark.

The first few days slid away. There wasn’t much to do; a sprained ankle, a few cases of seasickness, brought on, Octavia considered, by apprehension, a handful of cuts and bruises, and that was all. The weather, now that they had rounded Cape St Vincent, was glorious and very warm; there would be several cases of sunburn later. In the meantime, the three of them took their free time during the day and slept without interruption each night. Octavia had acquired a light tan which set off her white uniform very nicely and made her prettier than ever. She was popular at her table in the restaurant too, and much in demand for dancing in the evening when she was off duty. If she had been a passenger and not a ship’s nurse, she could have had a simply splendid time. As it was, she was pleasant to everyone without making any attempt to become especially friendly, indeed her behaviour was exemplary so that Sister Wise had no fault to find with her, and Mary, spending as much of her free time with Colin as she could, wanted to know anxiously if Octavia was enjoying herself. And Doctor van der Weijnen, presiding over the small morning surgery, lifted his head from the papers on his desk long enough to enquire if she had settled in nicely. She assured him in a cool voice that she had and was surprised when he went on: ‘I haven’t seen you dancing a great deal—perhaps you don’t enjoy it?’