13. ST MARY’S INSTITUTE OF HISTORICAL RESEARCH INCIDENT REPORT
Competition entry by Daniel Fowler
Incident Report | Teddy Mountfield - Maintenance Dept.
Officially Sanctioned ‘Final Jump’.
Accompanied by Historian Ms Leibniz and Mr Bakewell from Security, we arrived exactly as planned, Paddington Recreation Ground, Maida Vale, London. 12 Noon on Wednesday, 1st April 1953.
This should have allowed me to fulfil my lifelong dream of joining fellow keen runner Roger Bannister on one of his informal lunchtime training runs. I knew his life would be changing forever quite soon.
Our pod blended in well behind the main pavilion, being surrounded by numerous storage sheds and workshops.
Once Mr Bakewell gave the all clear, I slipped out of the door, enjoying the much loved scent of grass seed and petrol, around the side of the pavilion and straight over to the cinder track.
I jogged around a bit whilst keeping an eye out for Mr Bannister, but then I was distracted by the site of a large petrol lawnmower being prepared for use. We have a rather similar ancient machine back at St Mary’s, but ours is in bits in boxes. It was discovered when the Institute first moved in.
This one was an Atco with a 36” cut, almost new, with P.R.C. hand-painted in nice white lettering across its shiny green side panel. When the Groundsman turned up I just had to have a chat with him.
A little later, the lawnmower spluttered into life, and I rushed back to my team.
“He’s not here! That guy says he might be on nights?” I explained. “Perhaps we could try him at the hospital?”
“Scheitze!” exclaimed Leibniz, but I explained it was only a mile away, so with a consenting nod from Mr Bakewell, I changed my clothes and off we set.
The Casualty Department at St Mary’s Hospital, Paddington, was already busy and easy to enter. Leibniz and Bakewell found some chairs and joined many others waiting whilst I explored the rear of the building. A grizzled Porter, having a smoke by a delivery door, called me over.
“Ere, are you the man they was sending me from University College?”
“Yup! That’s me” I assured him, my fingers crossed behind my back.
“Right, grab a coat and make yerself useful. Check the clipboards behind main reception.”
The clipboards were hanging on a wall where he’d said. They held the rotas and schedules, including one listing the Housemen, or student doctors as we used to call them, who were on duty that evening. And there, near the top of the list, was my man. Bannister R.G. But before I could plan my next move, a nurse urged me to get straight along to casualty where I was needed urgently.
Hanging off the shoulders of two young police constables, enveloped in a heady atmosphere of alcohol fumes and stunning body odour, was a local ‘bag lady’, as they referred to her. She’d fallen and cut her head. They plonked her into the wheelchair I’d grabbed and I took her to the first cubicle as instructed by a tall Charge Nurse.
“Don’t go too far away. I imagine we’ll be needing your services a lot this evening!” she added with a kind smile.
The curtains were closed and the lady’s clothes were peeled from her body. Her things were carefully poked into the locker next to the bed and she was cleaned up ready to be examined by a doctor.
“Porter! Quick quick!” came the cry and I was pointed towards the ambulance bay.
A well-dressed lady had apparently been involved in a car accident on her way to a West End theatre. With no seat belts, she’d hit the dashboard hard and had a nasty cut on her forehead. I scooped her up and parked her in cubicle two. The tall Charge Nurse was chatting with one of the police constables, getting the details of our first patient.
“Cubicle One up to X-Ray please!” came the next command before I had time to breathe.
The X-rays would take a while to develop so I returned to casualty, just in time to collect cubicle two and run her up to X-Ray also. I could see from her notes that she was one Elizabeth Fox-Burton.
X-Ray had now finished with our ‘bag lady’ so I took her back down to Casualty, her notes being thrust at me as I pushed her back to her cubicle.
“Not there!! There!” barked a Sister who I hadn’t seen before, pointing at cubicle two with such conviction that she could probably alter the course of a glacier with that finger! I hesitated for just too long.
“You have Elizabeth, yes?” she exasperated, pointing at the notes I was holding. I looked down.
“Yes” I haltingly replied, as ‘bag-lady’ had now been identified as Elizabeth Withers.
“Then Cubicle Two and stop dawdling man! They’re waiting for you down in stores with my list. Chop Chop!”
She must know what she’s doing so into Cubicle Two I popped Ms Withers before heading off in the direction Sister had indicated the stores must be.
As I passed a small side room further down the corridor, the tall, friendly Charge Nurse who I’d seen before beckoned me in.
“Hello, you’re new here aren’t you?” she asked. “Cocoa?”, and she held out a mug.
As I stepped inside I noticed another nurse, and almost hiding in the corner, a young Houseman I recognised immediately.
“I’m hiding from that Sister” he joked. “Don’t give me away.”
The next twenty minutes were unforgettable as we all chatted and enjoyed a short break. The conversation somehow got onto running and Roger and myself ended up discussing the pros and cons of using graphite on running spikes in damp conditions. If you know, you know.
I shook Roger’s hand as I left, wished him good luck with his running and again set off to the stores. Meanwhile, back in Casualty, all hell was being unleashed.
Elizabeth Withers had actually enjoyed a lovely evening. She’d been patched up, washed, given tea and could now leave; and it just kept on getting better! In her bedside locker she’d discovered a beautiful evening gown, satin shoes and a fox fur cape. She had carefully dressed herself in her new attire and sauntered out of the building with a newly discovered air of regal haughtiness!
Elizabeth Fox-Burton on the other hand was discharged a little later with a bandaged head. In her locker she was horrified to discover a mass of filthy, stinking garments which could almost stand up on their own! She was absolutely furious.
This was not my fault. I’d placed the two Elizabeths exactly where I’d been instructed!
Matron was yelling for the nurses and porters she thought responsible to be found.
Mission accomplished, I deemed this the right time for us to quietly disappear into the darkening evening and home to our St Mary’s.
Footnote:
Upon my return I decided to take another look at the bits of our old lawn mower. I’m not sure if we should be concerned or not, but it is also an Atco 36”, and I could just about make out some very faded lettering painted on its side panel! P.R. something...
HISTORICAL CONTEXT
Much of this report is actually true. Lots of people were in big trouble regarding the mix-up with the ladies' clothes, and one of the young police constables had to return to the hospital several times over the next few days to further investigate the incident.
He returned again later, several times in fact, but now just to chat with the tall, friendly Charge Nurse. Finally, he asked her out. They went on to marry and, several years later, had three sons, including me.
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