by Anna King
‘Pray continue, Bella,’ Edward said, his voice deceptively soft. ‘I’m sure your mother and I would be most interested to hear your views, especially those concerning the nursing profession. What was it you said? No decent woman would perform such menial, degrading tasks. And what of Miss Nightingale? Do you consider her to be a person unworthy to grace your presence?’
Bella could feel the situation slipping away from her, and anxious to keep face, she replied airily, ‘Don’t be facetious, Father. Miss Nightingale is a woman of breeding – she merely supervises her nurses, she doesn’t actually take part in the unpleasant aspects of nursing.’
Edward stared at his daughter in amazement, then, shaking his head slowly he gave a mirthless laugh.
‘My God, woman. Not only are you a thoroughly disagreeable individual, you’re also a stupid one. Miss Nightingale endured horrific conditions during the Crimean War, conditions neither you nor I could even begin to imagine. She braved hardship and disease in order to bring comfort to the sick and dying, and worked side by side with her nurses until illness forced her to take a rest. But this isn’t about nursing, is it? It’s merely an excuse to vent your spleen on Lotte and disparage the excellent work she performs. You’ve never hidden your dislike, but then you would have found fault with anyone Hugh intended to marry. But let me tell you, Madam, all your sly innuendoes and vicious schemes will do you no good. Hugh will marry Lotte, and there’s not a thing you can do to prevent it. If you have any sense at all, you would try and make friends with the woman if you wish to continue seeing Hugh after the wedding. But that isn’t in your nature, is it? Well, I’m warning you, Bella, you had better take a long, hard look at yourself and change your ways, because if you don’t, you’re going to find yourself alone one day and you’ll have no-one to blame but yourself.’
Bella flinched as the words found their way into her heart. This was her recurring nightmare, to be left alone with no-one in the world to care whether she lived or died. She had tried every trick she knew to turn Hugh against Lotte and she had lost. Her world was slipping away from her, but she would rather die than admit she was in the wrong. There was a painful lump in her throat and her eyes were dry and bright with unshed tears.
Swallowing hard she drew back her shoulders and said bitterly, ‘It isn’t my fault I’m the way I am. If I had been born pretty instead of being a carbon copy of you, I’d probably have been married and had children by now, instead of which I’m doomed to spend the rest of my life on the outside looking in. No-one likes me because I’m ugly, well, I don’t care, do you hear me, Father, I don’t give a damn, because you know something? I don’t like you, so you can take your advice and in the colloquial expression of the East End, you can stick it where the sun don’t shine.’ The cockney accent sneeringly hurled at him through curled lips caused Edward to draw his shoulders back in surprise.
‘Bella,’ Beatrice cried, aghast at the contempt in the vicious voice.
‘Don’t upset yourself, my dear,’ Edward said soothingly. ‘Indeed, I’m glad we have finally come out into the open.’
Her chest heaving, Bella made to leave the room only to find her arm held in a steel-like grasp.
‘Not so fast, Bella.’ Edward’s face wore a relaxed expression. ‘There still remains the small problem of your visits to the building site. Harry won’t tolerate much more, but I’m sure you are aware of that. You may have been able to coerce Hugh into letting you run his life, but Harry is a different kettle of fish. Now, I’m warning you for the last time; stay away from the site, and keep your nose out of your brothers’ business.’
‘Or what?’ Bella glared up at him defiantly. ‘I’m a bit too old to be kept locked in my room. I’m a grown woman, and can go where I like, when I like, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.’ Pulling her arm free she walked unsteadily towards the door, anxious to get to her room before the threatened tears began to fall. She was about to leave the room when her father spoke again.
‘There you are mistaken, Madam. While you continue to live under my roof and eat my food, you will do as you are told. If you persist in shaming the family I will have no option but to send you to your cousin Ethel in Wales. I’m sure she would welcome the company, even yours. It must be very lonely for her living in that godforsaken valley miles from the nearest town. Maybe a few months spent living on a farm would help you appreciate the comfort of your home.’
Bella’s hand froze on the door handle, her knuckles white as she squeezed the wooden knob. Turning slowly around she whispered hoarsely, ‘You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t dare. She’s mad, completely mad, and you’ve said yourself how the farmhouse isn’t fit for human occupation. You can’t send me there – I won’t stand for it.’
Edward regarded his daughter and saw for the first time the fear in her eyes. For a brief moment he felt a pang of pity for her, then swiftly brushed it aside.
‘The matter is entirely in your hands. You have a choice: either act in a manner befitting the lady you purport to be, or spend the next six months in Wales with your cousin. Now, leave us, I wish to speak with your mother.’
Bella looked beseechingly at Beatrice, her eyes silently imploring her mother to intervene on her behalf. But Beatrice merely looked back, her eyes pitying as she shook her head slowly. Sounds from the hall penetrated the silence in the room, and throwing one last look of pure hatred towards her father Bella stormed from the room. In the hall, Hugh and Lotte were bent over the black medical bag, their faces earnest as they discussed the problem facing them. Seeing them so close, so obviously at ease and a part of each other brought forth her anger once again. She clutched the pearl necklace at her throat, her body shaking so violently she thought the raging turmoil inside her breast must surely tear her body asunder. The need to release some of the rage was overpowering, and she didn’t have to look far for a scapegoat. Advancing on the unsuspecting Charlie, who was waiting by the door held open by Benson, she leant her body forward and hissed, ‘You filthy little beggar. How dare you come sneaking into my home on the pretext of wanting a doctor. You’re nothing but scum, you and all your kind. As for your sister and her mysterious ailment, well… If she’s that friendly with my brother, then she is probably suffering from a dose of the clap. Harry never was that particular who he bedded.’
Charlie shrank back against the onslaught, then, the words penetrating his startled mind, he leapt forward shouting, ‘My sister ain’t like that, missus. And you can talk. Prancing about in front of Mr Harry’s workmen. They was all laughing at yer, missus, yer made a right fool of yerself. My Maggie would never show herself up like that, she’d got more pride. Anyhow, she doesn’t have ter chase after men, she can get ‘em wivout even trying. But then I suppose wiv a face like yours yer got ter go touting for it – it won’t come looking for you.’
When the hand came up and towards his face he flinched, then stood his ground, but before the blow could reach its target Bella felt her wrist grasped in a vice-like grip.
‘Good God, Bella, have you completely lost your mind?’ Hugh was staring down at her, his eyes horrified at the vicious, unwarranted attack. Pulling herself free Bella ran for the stairs. The undisguised loathing and shock on Hugh’s face was the last straw. They were all against her, well damn them all, she’d get even one day, by Christ she would. Her voice thick, she muttered, ‘Go on then, go. Harry’s waiting with his slut and Harry must be obeyed, mustn’t he?’
Benson coughed discreetly, ‘The carriage is here, sir,’ he said deferentially, his mind storing up the events he had witnessed to be retailed to the rest of the staff later that evening. When they were seated inside the cab, Charlie squirmed on his seat, his face still flaming from the insults levelled at his Maggie.
‘It ain’t Maggie wot needs ter see a nutcase doctor, it’s your sister. She’s barmy, right off her trolley.’
‘You may well be right, Charlie,’ Hugh answered wearily, still shaken by the unpleasant scene. ‘But Dr Hawkins is not
a nutcase doctor, he is a psychiatrist.’
Charlie stared back at him stubbornly. ‘I don’t care what fancy name yer call him; he’s still the sort of doctor the nutters are sent to.’
‘You may be right, my dear, but forget about Bella, it’s your sister we have to concern ourselves with now,’ Lotte said softly. She felt Hugh’s hand squeeze hers and smiled. When he had first asked her to dine with him, she had thought he was teasing her, as many of the younger doctors did. Even now they were engaged, she still couldn’t believe he had chosen her. The hospital was full of younger, prettier women than herself, and she was forever fearful she would lose him. Even now after their four-month engagement, Hugh still treated her with the same respect and affection he showed his mother. There was no passion in their relationship, and she was wise enough to know that the love she felt for the man at her side transcended the feelings he had for her. But no matter how insecure she felt at times, she never let it show. She was glad she had been at the house when the young boy had called, for it presented yet another opportunity to work alongside the man she loved. That he obviously knew the girl they were going to attend didn’t worry her – that was until they arrived at their destination.
The first sight of the unkempt girl, her greasy head nestled against Harry’s shoulder, filled her with pity. It was only when Hugh fell to his knees by the girl’s side, his eyes filled with tenderness, and heard the soft endearments tumbling from his lips that she felt the first pangs of unease. And when he gently pushed back the limp hair from the hot forehead, an icy hand seemed to clutch at her heart. Then the professional in her asserted itself, and walking to where the girl lay, she let her nursing instincts take over.
Seventeen
For months Maggie hovered on the brink of insanity. It was only the constant attention and love showered on her by Harry, Hugh, Lotte and Charlie that prevented her from toppling into the dark abyss of the far corners of her mind. For months she had likened her state to being stuck down a dark well looking up at the sunlight at the top of the open mouthed circle. Some days she was content to remain in the dark where it was warm and safe, other days she would attempt to climb out of the blackness only to fall back exhausted from the effort, her chest heaving with dry, frustrated sobs.
She remembered dimly the presence of another man, a tall, sparse-looking man, his demeanour proclaiming him to be someone of importance. He had sat by her side speaking quietly to her, asking questions, but she had remained mute, her eyes fixed unwavering on the goatee beard that adorned his chin. Finally he had gone away, and she had never seen him again.
Slowly, very very slowly, she began to inch her way up the side of the black well until one morning she awoke to find herself out of the darkness she had dwelt in for so long. Further evidence of her return to reality was proven when she asked a startled Charlie, who had just laid a breakfast tray on the bed, to fetch her a mirror. Amazed and delighted at the request Charlie had dashed from the room, returning swiftly with the small, flyblown mirror that hung over the kitchen sink.
Maggie took the mirror with trembling hands, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at the stranger staring back at her. The face that had once been filled with life and vitality was now drawn and sallow. Her brown curly hair hung lifelessly over her cheeks and shoulders, and although it was clean, thanks to Lotte’s administrations, there was no resemblance to the thick mane of glossy curls she had been so proud of. Laying the mirror down on the quilted coverlet she took a few moments to compose herself.
Her voice shaky, she whispered, ‘What’s happened to me, Charlie? How… how long have I been like… this?’
Charlie felt his legs go weak with relief at the normality of her tone. Sinking down onto the side of the bed he flashed her a watery smile. ‘Blimey, Maggie, you’ve had me worried. I was beginning ter think you’d never snap out of it. But don’t yer remember anything? I mean, well you must remember something; don’t yer?’
Maggie looked into the anxious face and shook her head slowly. ‘I remember that last night at our old place and… and Jimmy trying to… to…’
‘It’s all right, Maggie, don’t upset yerself,’ Charlie cried, hitching himself along the bed to be nearer to her. ‘’E ain’t worth getting upset about, and besides, ’e won’t bother yer again; Harry’ll see ter that.’
At the mention of Harry’s name, Maggie laid her head back against the pillows, her eyes closing as she struggled to remember. Through a misty veil of time she saw herself and Charlie tramping the dark streets before coming to a halt outside a large, red-bricked house proclaiming rooms to let. She recalled shouting at Charlie, why she couldn’t remember, but the image of his face as he’d stared at her in hurt silence appeared in front of her mind, and she squeezed her eyes tighter in an effort to blot out the painful sight.
‘Maggie? Maggie, you’re not going again, are yer?’ Charlie’s voice cracked with alarm.
‘No, no, love, I’m not going anywhere,’ Maggie murmured soothingly. ‘Just leave me be for a while; I’ve a lot to think about.’
‘Thank Gawd for that. But look, yer breakfast is getting cold. Yer can think and eat at the same time, can’t yer?’
The thought of eating was the last thing Maggie wanted to do, but she didn’t want to disappoint Charlie. It was only when she bit into the cold, heavily-buttered toast that she realised how hungry she was. Within minutes the plate was cleared, much to Charlie’s delight; he immediately volunteered to cook her what he termed a proper breakfast. As soon as he had left the room, his face split into a wide smile, she sipped at the still hot tea and turned her face to the window, her forehead creased with the effort of remembrance.
There were so many images floating through her mind, vague, dim outlines of people coming and going. People talking to her, like the man with the beard. People coaxing her to eat, to walk, to rest, and even though the voices had been familiar, their outlines had remained a blur. In the back of her mind she’d known Harry and Hugh had been with her, but a part of her had refused to acknowledge their presence, preferring to think of them as just ‘people’. And then there was the woman who had bathed her, sponging down her listless body and dressing her in clean clothing as well as holding her head over the sink in the scullery while gently scrubbing the long brown hair with carbolic soap. She’d been here a number of times, her long, full skirts swishing round the room as she’d helped Charlie fill the copper bath with hot, soapy water before shooing the boy from the room.
It was all coming back to her now. Harry and Hugh arguing as to the best treatment for her. Hugh insisting she be taken to hospital while Harry and Charlie remained adamant that she be kept at home. At these times, the unknown woman would hold Maggie’s hand, her attractive, plump face filled with reassurance. Maggie could see her clearly now; the name ‘Lotte’ springing to her mind. But who was she? Obviously she was a very close friend of Harry and Hugh’s, but which one of the men was she closer to? Suddenly it was very important that she find out exactly what had been happening to her since Lizzie’s funeral. Sitting up in bed she gingerly swung her legs over the side. Then, very slowly she let her feet touch the cold linoleum and stood away from the security of the bed. The moment she let go of the coverlet she felt the blood rush to her head and her stomach lurch in panic. Before she could fall, she grabbed the bedclothes and pulled herself back to the safety of the bed. God! She was weaker than she’d first thought. How could she have been so ill with so little recollection?
‘’Ere you are, Maggie, a nice fry up for yer. This’ll put the meat back on yer bones.’ Charlie came into the room, his face still beaming with happiness and relief at having his Maggie back with him again.
‘Look, Charlie, I have to talk to you. I need to know what’s been happening. Everything’s such a blur. I keep remembering bits and pieces, but none of it makes sense. Have Harry and Hugh really been here or did I imagine them coming to see me? And the lady; who is she, Charlie? Does she exist, or is she just a fig
ment of my imagination?’
‘Now don’t go getting yerself all worked up, Maggie. I’ll explain everything. You just eat yer breakfast and listen.’
Maggie started to protest, then the tiredness overtook her, and she did as she was bid. Carefully chewing the bacon and eggs Charlie had prepared for her, she listened in silence as Charlie recounted his visit to Harry’s building site and the subsequent visit to his father’s house.
‘Lord, I was scared when that old geezer grabbed hold of me, I thought he was gonna throw me out. Then when Hugh came down the stairs I was so relieved I nearly kissed him.’ Throwing back his head he laughed loudly as the incident came to mind. ‘Anyways, his dad came charging out of a room off the landing shouting his head off, wanting to know what was going on. I tell yer, Maggie, if I hadn’t been that frightened of coming back here without Hugh and facing Harry, I’d have bolted for it. But he was nice, I mean Harry’s dad, once he’d stopped bawling that is. His Mum was kind to me too; she made the cook fix up a hamper to bring back to yer. I didn’t want to take it, but she insisted and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. If it hadn’t been for that old bitch of a sister, I’d ’ave felt quite at home. Coo, she went mad, yer should have seen her. Tried to hit me she did, and she would have done an’ all if Hugh hadn’t stopped her. I pretended I wasn’t scared, but I was. She’s mad, really mad. I wouldn’t like ter meet her on a dark night.’
Maggie’s head was spinning as she tried to absorb all that Charlie had told her. Pushing away the half-eaten meal she said frantically, ‘Slow down, Charlie, I can’t think straight with you galloping off from one thing to another. Now let’s see if I’ve got this right. You went and asked Harry for help and he sent you to fetch Hugh?’ She waited for Charlie to nod his head in confirmation before carrying on.
‘And when you got to Harry’s house, his mum and dad treated you nicely, but his sister tried to wallop you?’
