what they were, really, strangers. She forgot about her father as she and Billy walked to the Royal, the new picture house that had opened at the other end of Winton. This was the first night out she’d had for ages and she intended to enjoy it.
When the lights went down in the cinema and the screen flickered and Al Jolson sang, it was warm and safe. Safe because they were not sitting in the back row and though Billy held her hand at first and then put his arm around her shoulders, it was nice, unthreatening. And afterwards they went to the fish shop and ate chips from the bag as they strolled home.
‘I’ll be working at Winton from next week,’ said Billy. ‘Now I’ve finished my training I’m a fully qualified surveyor and I could get an official’s house with a bathroom and everything if I wanted to.’ He glanced at Katie to see her reaction. The future was good for him, couldn’t she see that? Why did she have to be so different from other girls? Most of them would jump at the chance of marrying a surveyor and living in a nice house. But he was not surprised at her answer.
‘I know, Billy,’ she said. ‘But in three years my training will be finished too. I want to do it, Billy.’
Next day Katie was out for the eight o’clock bus to Bishop Auckland. Though she had a half-day and didn’t start on the ward until one she had a lecture at eleven. As she walked down Newgate Street it began to snow, big, soft flakes that clung to the windows of the shops before running down to melt on the pavement. Katie shivered in her thin coat and pulled her hat further down on her head and her scarf higher on her neck. It would be cold on the bus. But the time would pass quickly. Her pages of notes on the Theory of Nursing were in her bag and she had revising to do before she went into class.
The bus was not waiting in when she got to the market place as it usually was. There were a few people standing disconsolately at the bus stop, a few more huddled in the shop doorways as they tried to escape the snow. Katie stamped her feet, trying to bring life back to her toes. The cold struck through from the pavement, even though she wore rubber overshoes.
There were few people about apart from those waiting for buses; the sky was heavy over the town hall and the entrance to the bishop’s castle on the opposite side of the market place. Katie waited and shivered. The town hall clock struck a quarter past the hour; she checked it with the clock over the castle gateway. It was indeed a quarter past the hour. It was too early to panic, she, told herself, and there was still plenty of time to get there. She wished she had taken the train, trains always ran. But the fares were so expensive compared to the bus …
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car hooter, piping away in the comparative quiet of the market place. She looked up, there was a large car standing just along from the bus stop; a familiar large car, the one she had seen yesterday. Mr Hamilton’s car, she realised, as a man got out from behind the wheel and came over to her. The other people waiting for the bus looked at him curiously and then at Katie.
‘Mr Hamilton says are you going back to the hospital? We can give you a lift.’
‘No, I’ll get the bus,’ said Katie and the people looked at her as though she were mad.
‘The bus may not come,’ said Lawson. ‘I heard the snow was heavier along by Darlington.’ There was a chorus of groans from the people waiting.
Katie hesitated. She had to get to the lecture; it would be a bad mark against her if she did not so early in her training. Sister Tutor brooked no excuses, she knew that.
‘Come on, lass, it’s only a lift, it won’t hurt you,’ said Lawson. He glanced back at the figure in the back of the car. He didn’t want to go back and admit he hadn’t managed to persuade her.
Katie let out her breath. After all, what could happen in a car with a chauffeur sitting in front? And
When the lights went down in the cinema and the screen flickered and Al Jolson sang, it was warm and safe. Safe because they were not sitting in the back row and though Billy held her hand at first and then put his arm around her shoulders, it was nice, unthreatening. And afterwards they went to the fish shop and ate chips from the bag as they strolled home.
‘I’ll be working at Winton from next week,’ said Billy. ‘Now I’ve finished my training I’m a fully qualified surveyor and I could get an official’s house with a bathroom and everything if I wanted to.’ He glanced at Katie to see her reaction. The future was good for him, couldn’t she see that? Why did she have to be so different from other girls? Most of them would jump at the chance of marrying a surveyor and living in a nice house. But he was not surprised at her answer.
‘I know, Billy,’ she said. ‘But in three years my training will be finished too. I want to do it, Billy.’
Next day Katie was out for the eight o’clock bus to Bishop Auckland. Though she had a half-day and didn’t start on the ward until one she had a lecture at eleven. As she walked down Newgate Street it began to snow, big, soft flakes that clung to the windows of the shops before running down to melt on the pavement. Katie shivered in her thin coat and pulled her hat further down on her head and her scarf higher on her neck. It would be cold on the bus. But the time would pass quickly. Her pages of notes on the Theory of Nursing were in her bag and she had revising to do before she went into class.
The bus was not waiting in when she got to the market place as it usually was. There were a few people standing disconsolately at the bus stop, a few more huddled in the shop doorways as they tried to escape the snow. Katie stamped her feet, trying to bring life back to her toes. The cold struck through from the pavement, even though she wore rubber overshoes.
There were few people about apart from those waiting for buses; the sky was heavy over the town hall and the entrance to the bishop’s castle on the opposite side of the market place. Katie waited and shivered. The town hall clock struck a quarter past the hour; she checked it with the clock over the castle gateway. It was indeed a quarter past the hour. It was too early to panic, she, told herself, and there was still plenty of time to get there. She wished she had taken the train, trains always ran. But the fares were so expensive compared to the bus …
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car hooter, piping away in the comparative quiet of the market place. She looked up, there was a large car standing just along from the bus stop; a familiar large car, the one she had seen yesterday. Mr Hamilton’s car, she realised, as a man got out from behind the wheel and came over to her. The other people waiting for the bus looked at him curiously and then at Katie.
‘Mr Hamilton says are you going back to the hospital? We can give you a lift.’
‘No, I’ll get the bus,’ said Katie and the people looked at her as though she were mad.
‘The bus may not come,’ said Lawson. ‘I heard the snow was heavier along by Darlington.’ There was a chorus of groans from the people waiting.
Katie hesitated. She had to get to the lecture; it would be a bad mark against her if she did not so early in her training. Sister Tutor brooked no excuses, she knew that.
‘Come on, lass, it’s only a lift, it won’t hurt you,’ said Lawson. He glanced back at the figure in the back of the car. He didn’t want to go back and admit he hadn’t managed to persuade her.
Katie let out her breath. After all, what could happen in a car with a chauffeur sitting in front? And
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