Page 21 of Chase

“Good. If you work hard and keep your mouth shut, we will get on just fine.” She moves to put her elbows on the surface, grinding her teeth before speaking which makes her even more unlikeable. “From now on, you will shadow a senior nurse on her duties. I have allocated Barbara to be your mentor; you will meet her today and your work rotation will mirror hers. Your university classes don’t commence until September, so until then, please be advised this is a probationary period.”

“Thank you.” She doesn’t respond in kind, merely continues the information dump.

“Today, you will get a tour of the entire hospital, though you’ll be based on this floor with me primarily. Initially, you’ll be focused on the basic daily care of patients.”

I go to open my mouth to ask what her specialization is, then decide against it. Not knowing may put another black mark against my name, and it’s obvious from her attitude I already have one. I plan to look her up later. “Any questions, please direct them first to Barbara. Then if she can’t answer your query, come to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” she says, then presses the button on the intercom. She doesn’t speak, merely sits back once more. “Bryan will come and take you on a tour of the hospital now. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeat like a fucking schoolgirl speaking to the principal. Internally I wince, hating myself for it but knowing I need to keep this woman on my side. “I look forward to working with you Dr. Rivera.” I stand and offer her my hand. She takes it, surprising me—I expected her to ignore the gesture. Her fine bones wrap around my palm, and she squeezes firmly.

“I do too, Samantha. You certainly are a bolt out of the blue.” My perplexed look amuses her, and she sniggers. “Mystery job offers and money from unexpected places…one must ask themselves what you’ve done to gain such support.”

“It was a surprise to me too,” I mumble, and she raises an eyebrow cynically.

“Now,” she says, her tone harsh. “We both know that’s a fib.” Her door opens, and we both look at a flustered Bryan standing in the doorway. He waits silently as she glares at him. “Knock, Bryan. It’s basic manners.” He gabbles an apology of sorts, and she waves me away. I retreat from her office, then scurry into the hallway behind Bryan.

“You survived,” he says with a chuckle.

“Barely.”

He laughs out loud this time. His timid expression softens, and he morphs from an uptight employee to someone who looks more friendly.

“She is challenging.” He runs his left hand through his hair; there is no wedding ring on his finger. “But she keeps a roof over mine and the kid's heads.” I notice he doesn’t mention a partner, and I don’t ask. Too many times my big mouth has landed me in difficult conversations.

“How many kids do you have?”

“Four,” he replies, and I gasp. “Yeah, it’s expensive. Come on, this way. It will be break-time now anyway, and all the girls should be in the staff room.”

At the opposite end of the corridor is the door marked “Staff Room.” Inside is a group of four women dressed in nursing uniforms sitting around a table drinking mugs of tea and eating chocolate biscuits. It strikes me as amusingly characteristic, and the kind of situation you see on TV sitcoms.

“Morning ladies,” Bryan says, announcing our entry. “May I introduce the new victim of floor four?” They laugh then turn, all eyes landing on me. Four nurses, all older, all wiser, assessing their new recruit.

“What’s your bra size?” one woman shouts. I see from her name badge she’s called Stella. With her head of gray curls and granny-like appearance, it’s the last question I would ever expect she would ask.

“Um…thirty-two E.”

“Jeez, love, I’d hate to be carrying those melons around all day. Does your back not hurt?” I blink at her completely confounded by the direction of the conversation. “And your panties? What size are they?”

“Ten.”

“Well, we all know what assets you have, don’t we Samantha? Bryan, if I catch you staring at her tits, you’ll get a clip around the ear.”

“Tits aren’t my thing,” he informs her, and she grins.

“They must have been in the past. You have four kids.”

“Yeah, but I was always an ass-man.” They all burst out laughing, and an even older woman takes pity on me, standing and walking over to take my hands.

“Ignore them,” she tells me kindly. “Stella, go and collect Samantha’s uniform. What is your shoe size, dear?”

“Seven.”

“Two of everything so she has plenty.” Stella stands, leaving the room in search of what I assume will be my clothing while at work. “I’m Barbara, I’ll be your mentor here. Anything at all, you ask. We want you to love this career as much as we do.” She pulls a card from the pocket of her white, wide-leg trousers. “These are my contact details. Now come and sit down, have some tea, and pop those in your phone.”

We walk over to the table together and, after sitting down, she pours steaming hot tea into a mug for me, then begins to introduce my new colleagues.

---