The Nurse(34)

‘How was your night?’ she asked, giving the plate a final polish.

I took a mouthful of juice before answering, my nose crinkling at the taste. Despite what the menu had stated, it most definitely wasn’t freshly squeezed. Or at least not that year. ‘It was manic. I didn’t get a wink’s sleep.’

Carol pushed her plate away and picked up her mug. ‘It was a waking night, you aren’t supposed to sleep, you know.’

Why had I agreed to meet her? I didn’t even like the sanctimonious smug cow. ‘You never sleep, I suppose?’

‘Not if it’s supposed to be a waking night, I don’t. You could get into serious trouble if you’re caught.’ She leaned closer and dropped her voice to a barely audible whisper as if the café was packed with people desperate to know what we two were talking about. There was only one other person in the café, a heavy, scruffy-looking man who was shovelling beans at speed into his mouth as if he was afraid someone was going to try to take them away. I wondered what his story was. He’d probably be more interesting to talk to than the woman sitting opposite. I sipped some more of the orange liquid in my glass and tuned back in to what she was saying.

‘There was a nurse fired from the agency last year for doing exactly that,’ she said.

She spoke in the kind of voice some people assumed to tell the worst kind of news. I’m sorry, your mother/father/aunt/uncle – delete as necessary – has passed away. She probably put on a matching expression too – the downturned mouth, the sad eyes – and I just bet she added the hand wringing.

‘The family of the woman she was supposed to be looking after had put hidden cameras up when the woman claimed she’d been left alone for hours. There’s a rumour they sued the agency for thousands.’

She leaned even closer, almost within kissing distance. I’d have liked to have spat in her eye. ‘Shocking,’ I said, although it wasn’t.

‘The nurse was struck off the register.’

That was slightly more worrying. I needed my job, or rather the money it brought in. ‘I’m talking about sleeping for minutes, not hours.’ I was sounding defensive, and it annoyed me. ‘Anyway,’ I said, determined to change the subject, ‘how’s it going in Lansdown Road? I thought the job was only going to be for a couple of days.’

‘It was. He had a chest infection and was very poorly but was supposed to make a full recovery from that.’ She put on her sad face again. ‘He’d been diagnosed with cancer a few years ago and had initially responded to chemo but after the chest infection, he started to deteriorate. The wife has been told he has months, maybe only weeks.’

‘Hard,’ I said, because I couldn’t think of anything more suitable to say. ‘Is it a good set up?’

‘Yes, it is. He’s a big man though and it takes two to sit him out of bed. I liaise with the agency, and they send a care assistant to help me. The wife is determined to look after him at home. She’s nice, but fussy about his care, wants everything done exactly as she wants.’ Carol shrugged again. ‘It’s okay with me, it’s what we’re paid for after all.’

I had to press my lips together to stop myself giving her a mouthful. She was the kind of nurse who would happily double as a servant if that’s what the punter wanted. The kind of nurse who would put on a martyred face and insist it was a vocation, not a job. Such crap is what kept nurses’ salaries so appallingly low.

‘I was supposed to be off today but the nurse doing the other shifts asked me to change a day so…’ Carol shrugged. ‘I’d nothing else planned for the day. I don’t start till nine thirty, so I was still able to meet you.’ Her mobile was sitting on the table, it buzzed as a call came through and she reached to answer it. ‘Hi.’

As she listened to whoever was speaking, I saw her usually genial expression harden and her fingers press the phone tighter to her cheek, as if she wanted to absorb the words, not just hear them. ‘And what am I supposed to do?’

This was followed by some grunts. Whether they were of agreement or not, it was impossible to tell. I was getting bored listening to half a conversation and would have knocked back the end of the orange stuff and left her to it, if she hadn’t finished the call and put the phone down with a decidedly grumpy snap.

I really hoped the man had died, that the job she was so happy about was over. I didn’t mind sacrificing the man – it sounded as if he wasn’t long for this world anyway and he might as well make himself useful. I adopted her sad expression. ‘Not bad news, I hope.’

Her lips had narrowed to two thin lines. They barely moved when she muttered a brief, ‘Yes.’ Then with a loud, long-suffering sigh, she explained. ‘That was the agency. The care assistant that was booked to come and help me get Mr Wallace out of bed this morning has had an accident and can’t come. They’ve tried, but they can’t find anyone else.’

It wasn’t unheard of that we were left high and dry this way. ‘What did they suggest you do then?’

‘Tell Mrs Wallace there’s been a problem and leave him in bed for the day.’

‘Can’t you ask the night nurse to stay and help you?’

‘No, she leaves at seven. Mrs Wallace gives him his breakfast, then sits with him until I arrive. Then she goes to play golf.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling dismissively. ‘She likes to have Mr Wallace sitting out by the time she returns.’