#2 Dr Monica Shaw

For many who grew up in Somers Town during the 1950s and 1960s, one name still brings a smile of fond recognition: Dr. Monica Shaw. She was far from an ordinary GP. Brilliant, eccentric, and deeply devoted to her patients, she left a legacy of stories that locals cherish and recount with warmth and laughter.

Her surgery was situated on Eversholt Street, a small, crowded practice without an appointment system — you simply took a seat and waited your turn. The waiting room was frequently packed, yet no one seemed to mind. Patients understood they might be there for a while, as Dr. Shaw was renowned for inquiring about every family member, not just addressing the immediate illness. “She truly knew everyone,” recalled one patient.

Dr. Monica Shaw and her sister Joyce, painted by Robert Edward Morrison, a British artist (1852–1925)

Dr. Shaw was seldom seen without a cigarette, her nicotine-stained fingers a defining feature of her presence. She spoke with a raspy voice, her hair typically pinned up in a bun, and her false teeth sometimes slipping. Her fingers were often wrapped in plasters—not due to illness, but from scratches inflicted by her beloved cats. She cared deeply for them, both the feral cats she tended to at her Bloomsbury home alongside her housekeeper, Mrs. Harris, and the many china cats that adorned her surgery.

Many remember the chaos of her desk, piled high with papers, yet she could always instantly find the exact document she needed.

Her private life was as unconventional as her surgery. She never married, instead choosing to share her life with Dr. Beard, a surgeon. “She didn’t believe in marriage,” a local remembered, “and she didn’t want children either.” She valued her independence, her patients, and her cats above all.

She was born into a wealthy family but devoted much of her fortune to animal welfare, ultimately passing away with very little left to her name.

Her eccentricities never overshadowed her brilliance as a doctor. She possessed an extraordinary ability to detect illness. One patient recalls how she urgently sent their mother to Elizabeth Garrett Anderson Hospital—an intervention that saved her life. Another remembered her straightforward yet powerful advice: “Either get out of bed or die.” Their grandmother took this to heart and lived to the age of 99.

She would arrive at houses late at night if needed, her stethoscope tucked into her shopping bag alongside vegetables. Children were not exempt from her straightforwardness: one woman remembers having her dummy snatched away and thrown into the bin with the words, “You’re too old for that!”

Dr. Shaw’s passion for racing, her warm conversations with the fathers about their horses, her deep compassion for families, and her strong independence made her truly unforgettable. “She was always on your side,” someone remarked. Despite her quirks—yellowed fingers, plaster-covered hands, beloved cats, and her signature Nora Batty stockings—she was remembered most of all as the finest doctor Somers Town ever knew.

When she retired, Dr Foram took over the practice. Opinions were mixed about him, but one thing was clear: Dr Shaw was missed deeply.

Decades later, the people of Somers Town still remember her with warmth. She was more than just a GP; she was a vibrant part of the community’s very fabric, a reminder that often the most unconventional individuals leave the deepest and most enduring impact.

A building in Somers Town is named after Dr. Monica Shaw, honouring her profound impact and dedication to the community as a doctor, advisor, and friend. She was an extraordinary woman, always there when needed.