Thank you for the reviews. I have been so worried about posting this (as in the story) as haven't written anything like this before! Hope you like the next chapter and my style of writing. Please read and review.
Rita kept a low profile with the clinical lead for the remainder of her shift; partly due to self-preservation and partly down to fear of what might happen should Connie carry out any of her less-than-idle threats. As much as she admired the clinical lead, she couldn't help but be afraid of what Connie could be capable of should she stay true to her words. Little did Connie know that the laughing, joking and confidence that she oozed was all a brave face. A brave face that covered a multitude of past experiences that haunted her to this day and had an influence on every moment throughout her every waking hour.
The rest of Rita's shift passed her by with a blur. She rushed from case to case, patient to patient, giving each and every patient her all. There was no time for laughing and joking with colleagues with the cases that came thick and fast through the ED doors. Towards the end of her shift, Rita found herself treating a young woman with a broken wrist; she couldn't help but notice that she was covered in bruises and so shy that she could barely give Rita any eye contact and seemed ashamed to show her face.
From a distance, Connie watched as Rita treated a young woman with injuries consistent with domestic abuse. She marvelled at the way the blonde nurse made the scared and frightened young women feel at ease throughout her treatment. She watched with admiration as she stayed on after her shift had ended in order to comfort and give advice to the woman. A feeling of guilt ran through her body as she watched Rita give so much love and care to such a vulnerable patient. She felt angry at herself for giving Rita such a dressing down earlier in her office, when she could see that the clinical nurse manager was so good at her job and such an asset to the team. With guilt, she recalled the fearful expression which had pained Rita's face as she'd answered her with such a timid voice whilst avoiding any eye contact as she'd hurriedly left the office.
Once she'd finished with her patient and given her all the help and support she could, Rita made her way to the staffroom to get changed and collect her bag ready to make her way home. Her earlier cheerful and carefree mood had been replaced with a dark, sinking feeling that she struggled to shake off. The combination of a dressing down from Connie, followed by her domestic abuse patient had stirred up more old memories and feelings that were now flying through her mind. The intimidation she'd felt earlier in Connie's office brought back strong reminders of Mark and how he'd constantly tell her she wasn't good enough: not good enough to have his baby despite knowing how desperate she was to become a mother and share her caring and love with a baby; not good enough to have friends outside of work or his circle of friends, especially ones that he didn't approve of; not good enough to be treated like the single most important thing in his life like other men treated their girlfriends or wives. Her eyes began to well up with tears as she slipped her feet into her converse trainers, wiping her eyes roughly with her sleeve as she turned the key in her locker door. She heard the door click quietly behind her as someone entered the room. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to find Connie standing by the door watching her intently.
"Um, Mrs Beauchamp…" Rita began, assuming she had done something else that the clinical lead didn't approve of and it wouldn't be long until she carried out her threat from earlier. Thoughts whizzed through her mind as she racked her brains hard as to what it was that she'd done. Her breathing became shallower and faster as she began to panic; she'd spent the rest of her shift working her socks off so what on earth had she done?
"Rita, are you ok?" Connie asked with concern in her voice as she walked towards Rita and encouraged her to take a seat.
"I'm fine, just a bit tired that's all," Rita replied hurriedly as tears threatened to spring from her eyes once more. "I'd better be off, early shift tomorrow…don't want to be late." Rita made her way to the door. Connie couldn't help but notice that Rita seemed to have a look of embarrassment about her as she steadfastly refused to make eye contact with the clinical lead.
"In that case, can I see you in my office first thing tomorrow?"
Rita paused with her hand on the handle. Thoughts rushed through her mind once more. Connie really was going through with her earlier threat. Her job was on the line and knowing the way her luck went; she'd probably be looking for a new job come tomorrow morning. Rita felt a wave of nausea rush over her. Nursing was all she'd ever wanted to do and now is was all going to be over, knowing Connie she'd probably fire her then and then in the morning. She hurried away, forgetting to even say goodbye in her rush to get out as negative thoughts took over her usually rational mind.
Connie watched as Rita disappeared. She couldn't help but notice that Rita seemed preoccupied and upset. As much as Rita infuriated her with her tardiness and sometimes blasé attitude, she couldn't deny that Rita really was a great nurse and was excellent at her job. She also couldn't let go of the feeling that she'd felt when she saw Rita turn around with tears in her eyes, and when she'd seemed to be panicking about something: a feeling of concern and compassion, and the overwhelming desire to bring her close and comfort her until she calmed.