The District Nurses of Victory Walk

by Annie Groves

  Edith shrugged as she took down the cocoa powder from the top shelf. ‘Suppose we’d better have this without sugar.’ She pulled a face. ‘It’s not so bad, is it? Just keeping an eye on the new nurses while they settle in? I think Fiona didn’t want to seem heavy-handed and that’s why she didn’t ask Gwen. She thought it would be better coming from us as we’re at the same level as they are.’

  Mary passed her two cups. ‘Must we really do without sugar? I can’t get used to it. Perhaps Charles can get hold of some. Or what about Harry’s friends? Doesn’t Billy work down at the docks? I bet he could manage it.’

  ‘Mary!’ exclaimed Edith, shocked. ‘You can’t do that. That’s illegal. You’d get Charles in awful trouble. I can’t ask Billy, he’d lose his job.’

  Mary’s face twisted. ‘I know, I know, but cocoa without sugar! It’s too bad. It tastes like mud.’

  Edith frowned. ‘Well, do you want it or not? I’ll have yours if you don’t.’ Sometimes Mary exasperated her – the young woman had obviously never gone without and wasn’t used to making any kind of compromise. Edith could easily remember times when any cocoa at all, made just with water and very weak, would have been a great treat.

  ‘Oh, go on, then.’ Mary gave way without too much of a struggle. ‘You didn’t answer my question properly. What do you think we’re meant to do? We won’t go on visits with them, will we?’

  Edith carefully spooned an equal amount of powder into the two cups. ‘No, Primrose and Belinda are qualified Queen’s Nurses, they don’t want us breathing down their necks. We’ll just be here to advise them a bit from our experience of the district. Neither of them comes from round here so it’ll take a while before they know their way about. Look at me, I’m a Londoner, but it still took me ages.’ She added a little water, made a paste and then topped it up with hot water and a dash of milk. ‘Here you are.’

  Mary accepted it and managed to take a sip without pulling a face. She didn’t mean to offend her friend by implying she wasn’t grateful, and it was better than nothing. ‘Anyway they’ll probably be all right, won’t they? They most likely won’t need us to do anything other than show them where to park their bikes.’

  It turned out they needed a little more than that. Their first few cases weren’t too bad, or at least nothing beyond what they’d come across in their training, and if they were taken aback by the conditions in which some of their patients lived, they didn’t say. So it was a shock for them to hear what Alice had had to deal with on the day after she got back, frazzled by the travel delays and hoping for a straightforward round to welcome her back. It wasn’t to be.

  Alice had set out on what sounded as if it would be a routine visit to a family living in a cramped house a few streets away, off Cricketfield Road. She had known there was a pregnant young woman in the household, but not when she was due to give birth; the call had originally been to visit the grandmother and change a dressing on her injured leg. The old woman was sitting huddled by the meagre fire in the kitchen and complaining about all and sundry. Nothing was right for her. Then she started on about her granddaughter. ‘She’s no better than she should be, that one,’ she spat, as Alice tried to calm her so that the bandage could be fastened properly.

  Alice tried to ignore the vicious comments; it wasn’t her business to become involved in family squabbles. She was keen to leave the house as soon as possible. It had smelt badly of damp, and the fire, such as it was, wasn’t drawing properly. So the room was smoky, with every surface grubby with soot and dust. She knew it was her duty to give general advice about hygiene as well as treating a specific condition, but had the distinct feeling her words would fall on deaf ears here.

  It wasn’t until the old woman paused to catch her breath that Alice became aware of a thin wailing from upstairs. It sounded frail and desperate all at the same time. The old woman dismissed it when asked what it was, but something told her she should investigate and, despite the grandmother’s protests, she made her way upstairs, with dread in her heart even as she attempted to keep her cool and cheerful professional demeanour.

  The scene she discovered was the saddest she’d experienced in her whole career. A very young girl lay on the bed, white-faced and sweating, panting for breath, and in her arms lay a baby so pale it was almost blue. The room was freezing, the grate empty, and the bed had only a pitifully thin blanket over it, so it was no good for warmth at all.

  Before Alice could even properly establish what was going on, the baby’s feeble cries petered out. She immediately went into the routine that had been so well instilled into them during training that it was almost automatic, going through every effort to resuscitate the tiny child, but it was no use. It had been too weak to begin with.

  She felt painfully inadequate as she was forced to answer the unspoken question in the young girl’s eyes. The child was dead and there was nothing to be done to save it. Alice belatedly checked: a little boy, its life over before it had really begun. It was no more than a couple of weeks old.

  Slowly she drew the full story from the girl, who claimed she was seventeen, although Alice doubted it.

  ‘Back last spring, I met this lad who’d come to the area looking for work,’ the girl said in a near-whisper. ‘He got himself taken on in the gas-mask factory and found lodgings nearby. At first he was nice, bought me bars of chocolate, even got me a bunch of flowers once. Nobody ever done that before. That was the evening he took me down Hackney Downs, and I know it was wrong what we done, but he was so kind and said he loved me and if I loved him back then I’d let him … you know.’ She paused to gasp for breath, her forehead glistening with sweat. ‘It took me ages to realise I hadn’t had me monthlies, but he’d sworn it would all be all right and he’d make an honest woman of me, so I wasn’t that worried. I believed him. More fool me.’

  Alice could have guessed what was coming next.

  ‘The moment war was declared he disappeared. Haven’t heard a dicky bird from him since. I tried to hide me bump, that’s when I couldn’t get rid of it drinking gin and having a boiling hot bath, but after a while it was no good. Gran was furious and said I had to stay indoors or the family would be shamed. I didn’t have no choice so I agreed, still thinking he might send word, but he didn’t.

  ‘Just after New Year I caught that flu what was going around and couldn’t shake it off. Nobody would call a doctor for me. Even when one come to see Gran, they made me stay upstairs. Anyway, there is no hiding it and now it’s too late.’

  Alice’s heart had ached for the girl. If only she had known, there were places she could have gone to have her baby, whether she was married or not. The Mother’s Hospital would have taken her, but the girl hadn’t heard of the place, even though it was nearby.

  Alice thought the situation couldn’t have been more grim, but she was wrong. When the girl’s father had turned up, things had gone from bad to worse, as he was drunk.

  ‘You get out of here now,’ he’d snarled, his face close to Alice’s, his breath reeking of cheap spirits. ‘This is my house and I say what goes. We don’t need the likes of you do-gooders stickin’ yer oar in.’ For a moment Alice thought he was going to hit her, but she had stood her ground.

  ‘I’ve been called in here to treat your mother’s injury, and once a nurse is invited into a house it is her duty to help the family where appropriate,’ she insisted. ‘I can’t just ignore your daughter and the death of her baby.’

  ‘Course you can, it’s no more than either of them deserve,’ the man scoffed. ‘We’ll get rid of it and say no more about it. You ain’t seen nothing.’

  Alice knew she risked making him angrier but she couldn’t agree. ‘I’m afraid that just won’t do,’ she told him.

  Again, she thought he might hit her as he stood swaying in front of her, but then with a grunt he turned, walking out of the half-rotten front door and slamming it behind him. She allowed herself a moment’s pause, doing her best not to shake now the immediate danger had passed.
Then she picked up her bag, knowing she would have to begin the sad procedures to notify the authorities of an infant death.

  ‘It wasn’t that so much that upset me,’ Alice said, once she had eventually made it back to Victory Walk and given in to the urgent need to tell the others about the afternoon she’d just had. ‘It was the look on the girl’s face when she realised the baby had died. I’ll never forget it. I know lots of people will say it was for the best, that it never stood a chance, but if they’d seen her face …’

  Primrose and Belinda listened to the whole desperate tale with expressions of increasing horror. ‘How do you manage to do it?’ Primrose breathed. ‘I’d have run away. I don’t think I could stand it.’

  Edith nodded and gently touched her shoulder. ‘I know what you mean, but when it comes to the point, you wouldn’t. It can be shocking at first, that young girls have babies out of wedlock like that, and some people would probably say the same thing – the baby is better off dead and the mother can get on with her life. It’s not that simple when you see it first-hand, though. It’s a tragedy, no matter where it happens – and all the more so when you realise it needn’t have happened at all.’

  Primrose nodded in acknowledgement. ‘Thank you, Alice. For telling us, I mean.’

  Alice sighed. ‘Well, thanks for listening. It helped to tell someone. That poor, poor girl.’

  Belinda rose. ‘It’s late, Primrose. We should turn in. Another day’s shift beckons.’

  Primrose exhaled deeply. ‘And you have to go back there and see to that horrid old woman’s bandage. She doesn’t deserve it, I wish she’d just rot away for being so cruel.’

  Edith cocked her head at her new colleague. ‘You don’t mean that, really.’

  Alice got up as well. ‘The thing is, she’s had a tough life – anyone can see that. I’ll sort her out tomorrow and I’ll see to the girl’s flu too, not that she’ll care after what’s happened.’

  ‘But you can make her comfortable,’ Edith pointed out.

  ‘Yes, I’ll do my best.’ Alice managed a smile. ‘Thanks again for listening, for understanding. Hope I haven’t put you off. It’s not always like that.’ She turned and headed for the door.

  Edith watched as the two new nurses followed her, knowing how hard it would have been for them to realise that next time it might be them dealing with such a situation. But it was a lesson well learned. It didn’t help to sugar-coat what they would be up against. Perhaps they thought that, having completed their training, that was the hardest bit over and done with. The truth was, it was only just beginning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘Is that your bike, then?’

  Alice braked quickly to avoid the small figure who’d stepped out in front of her as she was returning to the nurses’ home. She was still on duty but had run out of boracic lint in her Gladstone bag, despite having repacked it only that morning. But it was just one of those things: every patient today had seemed to need it. She couldn’t afford not to have it available but she didn’t have time to stop to chat either.

  However, the little girl wasn’t going to give in so easily. ‘How do you keep your balance? Can I have a go?’

  Alice sighed and shook her head. ‘No, Pauline. It’s far too big for you, and really heavy.’

  That only made Pauline more determined. ‘I’m very strong, Nurse. Everyone says so. Look, I’m like Popeye.’ She rolled back the sleeve of her baggy jumper and flexed her little arm. Alice noted she wasn’t wearing a coat, despite the bitter weather.

  Reluctantly she dismounted. ‘You’ll need to grow a lot taller before you can ride this,’ she pointed out. ‘Your legs have to reach the ground when you’re sitting on the saddle. Otherwise you won’t be able to get on or off, or stop safely.’

  ‘Pity,’ said Pauline. ‘I fancied having a go.’

  ‘Sorry, you can’t. Not today, and not for a long while, I’m afraid. Besides, it’s for work, not for fun,’ Alice told her seriously. ‘Anyway, why aren’t you at school?’

  Pauline sniffed. ‘I’m going there now, ain’t I,’ she said. ‘I’m just a bit late, that’s all. I had to see to me gran.’

  ‘You’re more than a bit late,’ Alice replied. ‘It’s nearly lunch time. They’ll be worried about you. Miss Phipps will be wondering if you’re sick.’

  Pauline shook her head. ‘They won’t know. It’s all different now. When everyone left they changed the classes and I was still with Miss Phipps, and that was good cos I like her. But now loads and loads of kids are coming back cos there weren’t no bombs after all. Just like me gran said there wouldn’t be. So we all got to change again. Nobody knows who’s meant to be where. Me gran says they don’t know their arse from their elbow, scuse me, Nurse.’

  Alice frowned. Then again, the little girl was only repeating what someone else had said and she’d probably heard far worse. ‘That must be quite confusing,’ she said. When she’d last seen Janet Phipps, the teacher had said that children were beginning to trickle back from their various billets, as parents felt there was little risk and that the whole thing had been a mistake, an overreaction. Alice hadn’t realised that more and more had returned.

  ‘It must be nice to have your friends around you again,’ she suggested. ‘What was your special friend called – Dotty, wasn’t it? Is she back?’

  Pauline’s face fell. ‘No, she ain’t come back yet. Me gran says she won’t cos her mum’s too lily-livered to come back herself. I wish she would, I miss her something awful.’

  ‘So who do I know who has come back, then?’ asked Alice.

  Pauline’s eyebrows went up. ‘Bleedin’ George, that’s who.’

  Alice tutted. ‘That’s not a nice thing to say, Pauline.’

  ‘To be fair though, Nurse, his ma calls him that as well,’ Pauline said. ‘I heard her when she come to collect him from school last week.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ Alice swung back onto her bike. ‘You’d better hurry along now. Say hello to Miss Phipps from me.’

  ‘If I even sees her,’ said Pauline gloomily, but she obediently turned and began walking in the direction of St Benedict’s, dragging her feet.

  ‘Nurse Adams! A word with you, please!’ Gwen called when she noticed the tall new nurse hanging her cloak up.

  Belinda turned around and smiled in friendly greeting, but the expression froze on her face when she realised that the deputy superintendent was bearing down on her looking extremely stern. She had heard from her new colleagues that this woman had a bit of a reputation but as yet hadn’t found out why.

  Gwen didn’t wait for the young woman to speak. ‘I had cause to inspect the district room after you left it earlier this morning, and I have to say that it was a disgrace. Packets of bandages were left out, the spare jars of Vaseline hadn’t been put back and there was actually a spillage. A spillage, Nurse Adams. Copper sulphate, all over the surface of one of the tables. Need I remind you how important it is that the district room is kept in immaculate order?’

  Belinda blanched. ‘N … no,’ she said, casting her gaze to her feet.

  ‘It is of paramount importance. Paramount,’ Gwen went on. ‘Not only for reasons of hygiene, which are self-evident, but out of consideration to your fellow nurses. They must all be able to find what they require to replenish their bags at a moment’s notice. Sometimes they will have to do this with hardly any time to spare. They simply cannot risk turning up at a patient’s home only to discover some vital piece of equipment is missing.’ She paused to check that the new nurse was taking in what she was saying. ‘If any one of us leaves the district room in anything other than pristine condition, we put patient safety in jeopardy. That must never happen. Do you understand me, Nurse Adams?’

  ‘Y … yes,’ whispered Belinda, pushing her thick black hair out of her eyes.

  ‘Very well. Don’t let me have to speak to you about this again,’ Gwen finished.

  ‘No. No, of course not.’ Belinda could feel herself blushing.
She hated the way her skin betrayed her every emotion, and knew she would be glowing like a beetroot. Pointless to say that she hadn’t spilled the copper sulphate or left the Vaseline out. Admittedly the room had been a little untidy when she’d gone in and she hadn’t taken the time to put it right, as she was close to being late for her first appointment with a new mother. But she could tell Gwen was on her high horse and saying anything would only get another nurse into trouble. That was if the deputy superintendent even believed her.

  She leant against the wall in relief as Gwen turned on her heel and briskly walked back upstairs.

  Mary appeared from the district room doorway. ‘Blimey, what did she want?’ she asked.

  Belinda told her. ‘She didn’t even ask if it was me,’ she said, the injustice of it beginning to annoy her. ‘I know I’m new but I wouldn’t do that. We were told over and over again in our training that we were to keep the district room clean and tidy.’

  Mary’s hand flew to her face. ‘Oh no. Oh, I am so sorry. I think it must have been my fault.’

  ‘Your fault?’ Belinda looked at her colleague in amazement. Mary had bent over backwards to be helpful to her and Primrose as newcomers, and they thought the world of her. She found it hard to believe that their mentor would do such a thing.

  ‘Yes, well, sort of,’ said Mary ruefully. ‘I was restocking my bag before going off to see one of Dr Patcham’s patients – have you met him yet? He’s an old sweetie, we all love him – and then someone called me from the common room so I stepped away for all of five minutes. Then I went back in and put everything back in its place. Even the beastly copper sulphate. It’s too bad you went in there after me and Gwen thought it was you. Shall I go and confess?’

  Belinda shook her head. ‘No, what’s the point? She’s said her piece. It would only get you into trouble as well. Really, don’t. Thank you for telling me though.’

  Mary shrugged her shoulders. ‘I am sorry you caught it from her like that. Don’t take it personally. She’s like it with everyone. Come on, have you got time for a cup of tea? Don’t let her ruin your day. If you get into that habit you’ll be miserable for most of your time here, as you don’t usually get a cheerful word from the woman. Nobody knows why, but there we are.’