Chap two ll

"It is simple knowledge, Nurse Busby. I'm sure I've known that a urine sample free from excess glucose should turn blue since basic school chemistry! You treated a high blood sugar, with ten units of Novorapid insulin! You are very, very lucky Mr Hamilton did not go into a hypoglaecemic coma."

I was livid, it was common sense! How could a young woman of 21 years old know nothing about diabetes, particularly diabetes mellitus. It was rife amongst the young population and climbing. Was she so sheltered? Surely a life in the Welsh wilderness didn't leave her incompetent.

I took a deep breathe, pushing through the door into the thoroughfare and holding it open to allow Delia to follow me. She was young, she was sheltered, and perhaps nursing was not as such her vocation as it had been mine. I knew I should have given her the benefit of the doubt but she should have checked. Fraser Hamilton was only sixteen, by the time I had returned to his bedside to check his notes he was physically shaking as well as sweating. I had instantly smelt the pear drops on his breath.

An injection of 3 gram glucose suspension brought him back to us enough to get him some jam toast and sweet tea. Only then had I read his notes, seen the injection and asked what colour the urine had came up. It had been blue, not clear.

"Delia, you need to be more aware, I highly suggest that you spend more time studying."

I was reminded of earlier. Of her dealing with a medical circumcision, she had been openly flirty with the young man as she examined him. smirking and looking at him with her bright blue eyes. Her eyes were one of the first things I had noticed when I saw her, she was fair skinned and dark haired and yet her eyes were a mesmerising sky blue, they were also deep and knowing as well as young and enthusiastic. I felt a rush of something I hadn't before, something I didn't recognise until I had began to yell at the probationer.

"And secondly, I find your behaviour towards the young men on the ward unnecessary. You are openly and blatantly flirting with them, it is highly inappropriate and unprofessional. I find it quite vulgar. These young men don't need encouragement."

Delia's hand went to her hip, she turned her face from me, smirking,

"Your jealous," she muttered under my breath. I flew words at her in fury but also in fear.

"Jealous? I think you will find I simply have decorum towards the patients and the other staff. I am not giving the young men any more opportunities to-."

I was cut off.

The young nurse had flown at me, her hand outstretched and pushing up onto the balls of her feet. Her delicate hand clasped to my cheek and before I could think, before I could pull away or deny her behaviour she kissed me.

Her lips were soft like the skin of a baby, and slightly chalky due to the dried lipstick layering them. Her hand was silky soft against my skin, her skin was warm and so comforting. She had a sweet scent, a tiny amount of lingering perfume dabbed onto her wrist from the weekend which had just ended. She smelt and felt good.

The kiss was long, soft and gentle but long all the same. I felt my shoulders lax from their angry position, felt my face slacken and my lips with them. It felt so different, so unique and so right.

I came to my senses in a heartbeat. I was kissing a woman, it was so wrong- so sickening. I felt my heartbeat treble and my stomach slip downward in my abdomen. I panicked, I couldn't be doing this.

I suddenly sprang into action, getting hold of Delia by the shoulders, shoving her hard away from me so she stumbled back. Her expression wide and shocked. She had looked confused, hurt. I was too panicked to even notice. I was sure I was going to throw up, I turned and ran down the corridor.

I ran blindly, horrified and feeling like a child running from the Japanese guards once again. I was running to escape as well as to clear my mind. As I reached the end of the corridor I managed to calm my slapping feet an fight to get my breathing back under control. The feeling I was about to throw up hadn't left. I felt wrong, there was no other way in which I could describe it. I simply felt wrong.

I did throw up in the end. The moment I reached the Nurses Home I had to run full sprint for the lavatory. I hadn't eaten much that day - only a slice of toast- but I kept retching as I knelt in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl as if willing it not to escape. I felt the acidic bile burn my throat, and still my stomach heaved. After a few moments and allowing myself to catch my breath once more I flopped down onto the floor, still gripping the toilet bowl with one hand.

I felt raw, disgusting and deflated. What did I do, Did I tell Matron what had happened? If I did Delia would certainly lose everything she had. It may not have been illegal for women to be that way – I had researched it myself as a probationer – however, no one wanted to have a daughter like that. It was like having a child who was a lady of the night. No one would accept her, she could never work, never marry. Delia would be ruined. I knew I should go straight to Matron, knew I should protect patients and this was something considered very much a crime but there was another issue. If I exposed the young nurse I would be exposing myself. The more I thought the more sense it all made. I had enjoyed it. There was no doubt now, no way out, I was one of them.