I was now in a position at the BBC where I could commit to sponsored training as an accountant, or seek an alternative. At this point nursing came to mind, and the one Nurse training school who had offered me an interview. Having turned them down initially for an interview they were kind enough to wish me good luck. So, time to approach them?
I phoned and got through to a cheerful clerk who said she must have my previous letter and details somewhere. She would look them out, and if I’d not heard in a fortnight (using the post patience was required) to call again. About 10 days later they repeated the offer of an interview in that May. It was now time to give this serious thought, and I approached a couple of ex-nurses I knew through my parents. They were supportive but warned that it was a big commitment that if I walked away from it during training I may regret doing so.
I was conscious that the family had mostly educators by profession and I’d not really wanted to be join them. There was enough school talk at weekends. So I thought I was being original in going into Nursing. I’d forgotten my great Aunt, and Great Grandma had nursed, as had my mother’s cousin who nursed in WW2. Sadly on coming home from Ceylon the plane carrying her and other nurses crashed in India in 1946, and they all perished.
Now it was time for the interview. I travelled up to north London on the tube, very far from my south London roots. I recall little of the interview, I was asked why I wanted to nurse, I must have said something credible. I was asked about the latest book I’d read too. I was embarrassed as it was the book of a film I’d recently seen and not great literature. They must have liked me enough as an offer to join the next ‘set’ in September 1978 arrived a few days later.
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