St Thomas Hospital (employment)

St Thomas Hospital 1965

Through Tina I got a job in St Thomas Hospital. Years later I visited Mr Wright, he was seventy years old. He still managed to keep a flat in the outskirts of Esher and had services provided by the lodge. He was OK. He had had a full life and memories to keep his mind occupied. I was pleased to see him in a good state of health and well cared for. He promised to include me in his will, but it never materialised. I expect she, Carol, needed it more than I did.

St Thomas' Hospital 1965, I was offered a nice room in a residential house at the hospital named Riddle House. It had every amenity needed. We had a room with a bed, table, wardrobe and side table. lamp and all included. We also had a sitting room and a television. It was centrally heated, hot and cold water, and we were offered meals and accommodation all in one. We were given one sheet per week to change the bed, the custom was to change the bottom sheet and replace it with the top sheet and then put the new one on top. Board and lodging it was called.

At the dining room where meals were served, we had separate tables according to rank.The Sisters and senior nurses had their own separate dining room. The Consultants and junior doctors were separate too, and in the main hall of the large dining room, rank was also recognised by the administration table. Set aside by the windows with cutlery laid down and water jugs.

We the domestic and catering staff had made our own, the right side of the dining room. But we all ate the same food, and had the same portions, plates and cutlery. Food was available at all times in large quantities. We were also provided with beautiful uniforms in those days. Green dress adorned by an impeccable white starched apron, a green belt and a white cap for our head. The cooks wore the same style but in electric blue, or brown if they were training, the domestics no apron, the nurses like us but different colours and belts according to their qualifications. Kitchen Porters wore a white kimono. Dining room porters a brown overall, chefs uniforms have not changed much with time.

I remember the kitchen porter's hands were always red, poor things, there were huge sinks in the kitchen. One would be filled with water and soda, to wash the large containers, pots, large bowls, frying pans and cutlery that the chefs used uncontrollably and placed with a big bang on tables as they shouted “ very hot”. Other sinks were filed with clean hot water for rinsing. Gloves were not available then, and their hands were boiled by this harsh environment.

At 1.30 pm. The chefs and their assistants were served meals in the mess room above the kitchen area. It was our task to clean all the working tables for the chefs, thoroughly, and the slicing machines. The porters' duty was to clean all the ovens and floors. Well, there was an army of people attacking the various duties that needed doing. But we were all happy. The kitchen superintendent (Mr Marsillac) was a kind man, and had never restricted food for his staff. So although we had all had our meals in the dining room at 11.30 am.by two o'clock in the afternoon we were ready for some more treats. Left over food from all the dining rooms came back to the kitchen at this time and we had our feast, specially in the pastry room. I remember taking a pie dish full of cream caramel, adding some peaches and cream and eating it all. Or apple crumble, I am partial to apple crumble....

We were well treated and with respect, after all we were six young women surrounded by 15 chefs and 12 porters, and many more that came to the kitchen with different deliveries. Mostly the girls were Italians and Spanish in 1965. The porters too were from Italy and Spain. We are similar people in customs and language and in general got on very well with each other.

There was this handsome Italian porter, Mario, who was besotted with me and would sing me amorous songs all day long, in a good tenor voice. I hated him, for he did not recognise discretion, he wanted the whole world to know his love for me. And he used to say that hate is love and the more I hated him the stronger my love for him became. It did not materialised. If the kitchen had not been demolish his love songs would still be heard on its walls today....

The Management of the hospital as I said treated the staff very well and foreigners in particular.Being from Spain and Italy, they knew we were catholics and our soul was cared for too. A priest would be available every Sunday at 6.00 am. To conduct mass for those people who were on duty at 6.30 am. The Muslims traditions were also respected and were allowed time for prayers according to their custom. This way we all kept our individuality and felt no resentment against our employer.

Another effort made by the Hospital administration was to rearrange rosters to fit in with our English classes. I had lessons on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. My schedule was always early on those three days. Others had different times and days and like me I never missed a class because of our working hours.

The managers of different departments were also observant and recognised potential, and were conscious of our personal development. Job opportunities and training were there for those who demonstrated an interest or aptitude for personal advancement. Today immigrants are considered a pest, and are treated with contempt, but I am sure mostly they work hard to improve their lives and that of their families by doing legitimate work and contributing to society.

I am a recipient of good practice and in return I have worked hard for forty five years, paid taxes, responded to a just society in an honest way,recognising the civility that was offered me and I hope I have contributed by returning and not just receiving.

Many nations included my own should follow England's example with immigrants and would benefit from their investment.

I was 18 years old and in the kitchen a young trainee chef was always asking me out. He would wait for me in the corridor of the hospital holding his bicycle and a parcel with some treat for me to have. I sometimes wonder what he must have thought when he offered me a banana, which I ate in front of him. Well, I did not want to offend him, after all he was nice. We went to the cinema several times and he was determined to speak to Tina about our possible relationship. Tina was not happy, and told him so. She told him that I was too young and time would tell.

My sister Tina in Regents Park

Years later we would meet again, when I did not need permission for our interrupted relationship. A friend of mine from Palencia, Luisita, worked at the hospital with me and we got on very well. She was much more adventurous than I, and she planned a tour holiday to Italy for a whole fortnight. Tina would not let me go, and I had to ask my parents' consent from Spain. I did not get it, but I went just the same. Teenagers will always revel and disobey orders, we were no angels.