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A Family Christmas

Page 5

by Glenice Crossland


  The walk to church and back had intensified the pain in Annie’s ankle. On their return the girls were shocked at the agonised look on their mother’s face. ‘Mam, you look awful. What’s the matter?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Nowt. I shall be right as rain when I’ve rested me leg.’

  ‘You said it was getting better. Let’s have a look.’

  ‘No, I’ve told yer all it needs is a rest. In fact I’ll be going to me bed if yer don’t mind.’ Annie had never been known to retire for the night until everybody was in and the house locked up.

  Jane and Lucy exchanged glances. ‘Let me have a look at your ankle, Mam.’

  Annie ignored her daughter and set off towards the stairs but Jane blocked her way. ‘Come on, Mam. Let me look at your ankle.’

  Annie sighed and hobbled back to her chair. ‘It’s just a bit inflamed.’

  She lifted her skirt and pulled down her stocking, then she began to unwind the bandage, releasing a stench more vile than anything the girls had ever experienced.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Jane couldn’t believe the sight of her mother’s ankle. It was double its normal size, an open sore was festering, and surrounding it the ankle had already turned purple as if it was already dead. ‘I’m going for the doctor.’ Jane had already reached for her coat.

  ‘No, not tonight. I’ll go see ’im tomorrow.’

  ‘But he’ll give you something for the pain.’

  ‘Doctors! What do they know?’

  ‘I’ll go and ask Mrs Greenwood; she’ll know what to do,’ Lucy said.

  ‘Aye, that might be best,’ Annie agreed. ‘Boady’ll give me summat to take the pain away.’

  ‘But it’s all septic, Mam. Why didn’t you do something sooner?’ Jane spooned tea into the teapot and placed the kettle over the fire. ‘I’ll make some tea and then when our Lucy comes back we’ll get you to bed.’

  ‘Nay, I’ll wait till everybody’s in. I were only going out of’t way so yer wouldn’t see ’ow bad me leg were.’

  ‘Well, now we’ve seen it and we’re going to get it better.’

  Mrs Greenwood was just on her way to bed. She was wearing a white winceyette nightgown which resembled a tent. They were an early-to-bed, early-to-rise family. She couldn’t imagine who would be knocking at this time of night. ‘Who the hangment can that be?’ she asked Little Arthur, as if he was a mindreader.

  Lucy was nearly knocked down by Bob the dog, who slobbered all over her face the moment the door opened. ‘Hello, Mrs Greenwood. I’m sorry to come at this time of night but it’s me mam; she’s in agony with a bad ankle.’

  ‘Well, I’d better come then.’ Boadacea set off to get dressed.

  ‘Oh no, I don’t want you trailing out at this time of night. We just thought you’d give her something to take the pain away. She’ll have to see a doctor tomorrow, it’s really bad.’

  ‘What’s it look like?’

  ‘Well, her ankle and foot are both swollen and purple and the sore’s all running with pus and it smells horrible.’

  ‘Oh I don’t like the sound of that at all. She will have to see a doctor. I can make ’er a poultice of slippery elm powder. It might ’elp for tonight but yer must get ’er to a doctor tomorrer.’

  ‘What do you think it is, Mrs Greenwood?’

  ‘Well, it’s hard to say without seeing it. Might be an ulcer but I don’t like the sound of the purple foot, or the stink. ’Ang on love, I won’t be long.’

  Lucy was scared. Mrs Greenwood didn’t usually recommend doctors.

  ‘’Ere you are me love. Warm the poultice and apply the slippery elm powder on the poultice. This ’ere is some camomile. Make yer mam some good strong camomile tea; it’ll ease the pain and calm ’er down a bit. Help ’er to sleep.’

  ‘Thanks, Mrs Greenwood. How much is it?’

  ‘Don’t be daft, you’re our Dot’s friend. Besides, I’ve known yer mam for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘I’d rather pay.’

  ‘And I’d rather yer didn’t. Now get on yer way. The sooner yer get ’ome the sooner yer mam’ll get a bit of relief, but think on, yer must get a doctor, I mean it.’

  ‘I will.’ Lucy ran all the way down the hill. It was a bit scary up here with no houses or anything and the sound of clanging metal from the works echoing along the valley. She was relieved when she reached the main road.

  Annie didn’t need much persuasion to go off to her bed and when she was made comfortable the two sisters sat down to wait for Ben to come home and discuss Annie’s condition.

  ‘I think our Ben must be courting,’ Jane said. ‘He’s been staying out much later than usual this last few weeks.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve noticed. He must be wanting to settle down at his age.’

  ‘I hope he finds someone as nice as himself.’

  ‘Yes, so do I. Oh Jane, I do like John Grey, but I don’t suppose we shall be free to go to the dance if me mam’s no better.’

  ‘It looks awful, her leg I mean.’

  ‘I know. Mrs Greenwood insists we get her to the doctor, tomorrow, she said. She thinks it might be infected.’

  ‘Yes, we’ll tell our Ben to make sure she goes. Thank goodness he’s on mornings and he’ll be home by two. There’s a surgery in the afternoon.’

  ‘I do wish we could go to the dance though,’ Lucy frowned.

  ‘Yes, so do I, I really like James Grey.’ Jane hadn’t really expected to go. Nothing nice ever happened in the Gabbitas household. Her mother was right: if you didn’t expect anything, you would never be disappointed. But on this occasion she was, very disappointed, so disappointed she felt like crying.

  Chapter Five

  LUCY FOUND IT difficult to concentrate on her work the next day. It had been gone midnight when she had finally finished talking to Ben. Her wage had risen to fourteen shillings on her birthday and she could usually add to that being on piecework, but she wouldn’t have made much today. She couldn’t get the sight of her mother’s leg out of her mind and couldn’t wait to find out what the doctor had to say. Lewis Marshall was in an aggravating mood – coming up behind her he blew up a paper bag and burst it, causing everyone to laugh as it startled her. Usually she would have joined in the merriment but on this occasion she snapped, ‘Oh why don’t you grow up?’

  ‘Sorry, I was only trying to cheer you up a bit. Yer’ve been a bit of a misery all day, Lucy.’ Lewis looked crestfallen.

  Lucy felt a bit sorry for Lewis. ‘Aye well, I’ve things on my mind.’

  ‘What things? Yer know you can always talk to me about yer worries.’

  ‘Yes, I know that. Thanks, Lewis.’ Just then Mr Blackmore came striding down the shop. ‘What’s going on up ’ere then? What was that noise all about?’

  ‘Noise? What noise? I didn’t ’ear a noise Mr Blackmore.’ Lucy looked the picture of innocence.

  ‘Was it thee? Lew Marshall, tha’ll be getting sack one o’ these days if tha not careful.’

  ‘Not me, Mr Blackmore, I didn’t ’ear any noise either.’ Lewis looked at his sister on the next bench. ‘Did you ’ear a noise, Kitty?’

  ‘What sort of a noise did it sound like?’

  ‘I don’t know, I didn’t ’ear owt.’ Lewis looked questioningly at his boss. ‘What sort of noise was it? Mr Blackmore?’

  ‘Oh, get on with thi work.’ Exasperated, Mr Blackmore walked away. ‘Get on with thi work, I said. NOW.’

  Lewis hurried away in the direction of the gitting shop, carrying a bundle of ribs and stretchers he had already inspected, wondering as he went what it was Lucy was worrying about. No doubt he would hear about it sooner or later. There weren’t many secrets to be kept amongst the families on Top Row.

  ‘Your mother will have to go to hospital; I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do for her, Mr Gabbitas. You should have called me sooner.’ The doctor turned to Annie. ‘How long has it been like this?’

  ‘A few years, but not as bad as this.’ Annie frowned. ‘Can’t yer give me
owt without me leaving me kids?’

  ‘No! I only wish I could. I believe you might need surgery.’

  ‘What do yer think it is then?’ Ben asked, becoming alarmed at the mention of an operation.

  The doctor stood up and walked round the room. ‘I’ll be honest with you, Mr Gabbitas. I think your mother is suffering from Necrosis, commonly known as fever sore. If this is the case it must be dealt with urgently. In your mother’s case it has been neglected for far too long. She needs to see a specialist and I shall arrange this immediately. You must take a letter to the Royal Hospital. Your mother will be seen today.’ He sat at his desk and began to write. ‘If you will wait in the waiting room I shall be with you directly.’

  ‘How much will it cost?’ Annie worried.

  ‘Oh Mother, what does it matter? Come on, let the doctor get on with his letter or we’ll never get anywhere, let alone Sheffield.’

  Annie sighed. ‘Aye, I guess I shall ’ave to go whether I like it or not.’

  The Royal was a spooky place. A nurse led them into a room and ordered Annie to take off her stocking and lie on the bed. Then the nurse undid the bandage and took off the matter-encrusted lint, releasing the stench of rotting meat which seemed to be growing stronger by the minute.

  ‘Bloody ’ell.’ Ben felt sick. ‘Sorry, nurse.’

  The young nurse gulped. ‘It’s all right. I agree it is a terrible smell.’ She left the room and when she returned she was accompanied by an elderly white-haired man who took one look at Annie’s leg and left the room. He obviously needed a second opinion. The second man, this time in a white coat, put on a pair of surgical gloves and examined Annie more closely. ‘Mortification, sir.’

  ‘Yes, good man. What are we to do about it?’

  ‘Remove the dead bone, sir.’ The elder man nodded.

  ‘We shall operate first thing in the morning as a matter of extreme urgency,’ the specialist told Annie. ‘The nurse will attend to you now.’

  ‘Come with me, Mrs Gabbitas. We’ll find you a bed and make you comfortable.’ Annie followed her out of the room, speechless with shock.

  ‘Mr Gabbitas.’ The elderly man, immaculate in a black suit, white shirt and black tie, addressed Ben. ‘Your mother’s condition is extremely serious. If we are fortunate we shall be able to remove all the infected bone. If, as I suspect, it has been neglected too long and the necrosis has spread too far, we shall have no alternative but to amputate the affected limb. Even then it could prove fatal to your mother. Be of good hope; we shall do our best. And now I must proceed with my work. Good day to you, Mr Gabbitas.’

  ‘And to you. Thank you for treating my mother so promptly.’

  Nodding, the man left the room with the specialist. Ben wondered what to do now and waited until the nurse came back.

  ‘I should go home now if I were you. Your mother’ll be kept comfortable until her operation. You can come at visiting time tomorrow, but I should wait until the day after – she’ll be all day coming round after surgery. Visiting is seven till eight and two till three at weekends.’

  Ben felt dazed. What the hell had his mother been playing at, letting her leg get into that state? What if it needed to be amputated? How would they manage? What if it proved fatal? What about young William? Oh God, just when he was on the verge of asking Emma to marry him. Well, that would have to be postponed. He only just caught the bus to Millington; the lasses would be waiting for news and he dreaded having to give it to them.

  It had been a strange day for the Grey brothers too. John had found the pit terrifying at first. After the corn mill it was not only hard work – which he didn’t mind – it was also claustrophobic, which he did. Working in a space too low to be able to stand upright meant an aching back after just a couple of hours and kneeling in a foot of water didn’t go down too well either. What he did like about the new job was the cameraderie amongst the men. The way they shared their drinking water and advised him on which sandwich fillings would have turned stale by snap time. The most embarrassing and sickening thing about the pit was the lack of facilities for use as a toilet. The men had no alternative but to relieve themselves by squatting down in the presence of work mates. At the end of the shift his muscles felt as though he had been in a fight with Little Arthur’s bull. However, he accepted Ben Gabbitas’s invitation to join him for a pint at the Rising Sun and felt better after the liquid refreshment and a dip in the slipper bath at the Miners’ Club.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Ben told him, ‘the first day is always the worst. Now if yer don’t mind I’ve got to go take me mother to see the doctor. See yer tomorrer.’

  ‘Thanks, Ben. It would have been a lot worse without somebody to talk to.’

  ‘Oh, somebody’d ’ave looked out for yer; they’re not a bad bunch of mates.’

  ‘No, I’ve realised that.’ Ben Gabbitas had already gone, intent upon persuading his mother to get her leg seen to.

  James Grey had felt just as strange in the wire mill, even if not quite as overworked. In fact he was embarrassed during the first couple of hours to be given a brush and ordered to sweep up. However he set to willingly and was then given what he considered real work: die polishing. The dies consisted of a series of steel cone-shaped devices through which metal rods were drawn until they reduced to the size of wire required. The work wasn’t as heavy as James had expected, the most important task being the setting up of the machine and making sure it was kept maintained. When the two brothers compared jobs later James realised how fortunate he was to have landed himself in the wire mill rather than the mine.

  Young Robbie thought he was the luckiest lad in Millington. Like James he had begun by sweeping the floor. A whole sack of shavings had been gathered up as Robbie made sure he swept in all the corners and beneath the work bench. Mr Grundy didn’t say much but he didn’t complain either, so Robbie thought he must be satisfied. After that Robbie had been told all about the various kinds of wood and what each could be used for. Then he had been set to work smoothing down and polishing a coffin lid. He loved the smell of the timber and the beeswax – in fact he loved everything about the workshop. He also liked the way Mr Grundy nodded approvingly when he came to inspect his work. It was true the man didn’t smile much, but Robbie could understand why; the joiner was so engrossed in his work that nothing else seemed to matter to him. Mr Grundy was happy without having to be smiling all the time and Robbie knew that one day he would enjoy the wood-working just as much as his boss did. At home time Mr Grundy said to Robbie, ‘Aye well, lad, it’s time tha weren’t ’ere. Aren’t tha bothered about goin ’ome?’

  Robbie reluctantly put down the polishing rag he was using, looked at his boss and said, ‘No, Mr Grundy, I’m quite happy here.’

  Then the man did smile. ‘Tha’ll do all right Robbie Grey, tha’r a good lad. Get off for thi tea and I’ll see thi in the morning.’

  ‘Our Mary and Nellie’ll have to be told,’ Ben said when he had explained about his mother’s forthcoming operation. He hadn’t told them how serious her condition could prove to be. There would be time enough for that after tomorrow.

  ‘Shall I go and tell them?’ Lucy asked.

  ‘I’ll go if I can borrow yer bike.’ William would go anywhere as an excuse to borrow his brother’s bicycle.

  ‘Aye, that might be best. Do yer know where the place is?’ Ben was referring to the manor at Cragstone.

  ‘Yes, we went one day to look where our Nellie works; it isn’t ’alf posh.’

  ‘All the way to Cragstone. Who did you go with?’

  ‘Albert Marshall and Ernie Slater.’

  ‘You mustn’t go in the grounds; it’s private property,’ Lucy warned.

  ‘Nobody saw us.’

  ‘Well if yer know where it is yer can take a note for our Nellie.’

  ‘And don’t go to the front door, go round the back.’ Lucy always worried about doing the right thing. It got on young Will’s nerves sometimes.

  ‘I know that,
I’m not daft.’

  Ben gave him the note. ‘Right, off yer go, straight there and back don’t forget.’

  ‘I can’t do that; there’re some corners to go round,’ Will grinned.

  ‘Go on, and be careful down the hill,’ Lucy warned. ‘Are you sure the breaks are working?’

  ‘Positive! Will one of you go and tell our Mary?’

  Ben looked from Lucy to Jane.

  ‘Well I was just going out.’ Jane couldn’t meet her brother’s eye.

  ‘Oh I’ll go,’ Lucy snapped. ‘Though how you can go out when me mam’s so poorly I don’t know.’

  ‘Well it won’t make any difference if I stay in, will it?’

  ‘No, Lucy. Our Jane’s right. There’s no reason to sit here moping. You take the note to our Mary’s and then you can go out as well, if yer like.’

  ‘No, I’ll come back and wait for our Will. You go out, Ben. You’ve done your share today by taking my mam to hospital.’

  ‘Well I don’t know, I reckon I ought to be here for yer all.’

  ‘Go on, there’s nothing going to happen tonight. Go on.’

  Ben really wanted to see Emma and explain what was happening. He didn’t doubt she would support him in any way she could; she was an understanding lass was Emma Scott. All the same he knew she was expecting him to pop the question and he felt bad about putting it off. ‘Well, I will go out for an hour, if yer sure.’

  ‘Course I’m sure.’ Lucy sat in her mother’s rocking chair and picked up Annie’s copy of My Magazine but she couldn’t concentrate. She was always grumbling about her mother, but the house wasn’t the same without her. She stood up and decided to give the kitchen a good bottoming, make it nice for when her mam came home. She took up the pegged rug Annie had made and took it outside to shake, then she washed the floor before replacing it. By the time Will came back the furniture was polished and the pot ornaments on the dresser and mantelpiece all washed and sparkling.

  ‘Our Nellie’s coming over tomorrow after she’s finished cooking dinner. Why do they ’ave their dinner at night, Lucy, just when everybody else are ’aving their teas?’

 

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