A Mother's Courage

by Dilly Court

  'Just the cleaner,' Eloise murmured. She had to stop herself from rushing across the floor and snatching Joss from his cot. She must not make a false move now, or she would give herself away. She clasped her hands together so tightly that her knuckles cracked. By this time, Joss had thrown himself face down on the mattress and was in the throes of a tantrum.

  'Shut up, for Gawd's sake, you little horror,' the nurse said angrily. 'Be quiet, boy. You're waking the whole bloody lot of them.'

  Eloise could stand it no longer. 'He's only a baby,' she said, controlling her voice with difficulty. 'Here, let me have a try.'

  'He's a wild one,' the nurse said, backing away from the cot. 'I reckon he's not right in the head. He'll end up in the loony bin.'

  Eloise lifted Joss from the cot, hugging him to her breast. 'Don't say things like that. He's just upset.'

  At the sound of her voice, Joss immediately began to quieten. His loud wailing calmed down to great heaving sobs, and he turned his head to stare up into her face wide-eyed but seemingly without recognition. Frightened by his vacant expression, Eloise wiped his tears away with the tips of her fingers. 'There, there, it's all right, my pet.'

  His eyes searched her face but still he did not seem to know her. It was only then that Eloise realised the full horror of what she had done to a helpless child. It was as though he had awakened from a nightmare but could not drag himself back to reality. She rocked him in her arms, stroking his damp curls back from his forehead. 'Oh, my baby,' she whispered. 'What have I done to you?'

  'That's shut him up,' the nurse said, grinning. 'You got a way with nippers. What's your name?'

  'Ellen. What's yours?'

  'Phoebe. I'm ain't been here long, but they go and put me in charge of these wild things. Gawd knows where they come from or what they might have wrong with them. Some of them comes in with their heads full of lice and we has to shave their hair off, and others is covered with scabs and sores. At least that one is fairly clean, and so is the little one who come with him. Matron reckons they're brother and sister, but the boy is dumb. He don't say a word.'

  'Dumb!' Eloise stared at her in dismay. 'He was making enough noise just now.'

  'Oh, he's got a temper all right. Needs a good smack round the lughole if you asks me, but we ain't allowed to hit them. More's the pity I say. They needs discipline from a young age, or that's what my mum says, and she never spared the rod. I got ridges on me backside to prove it.'

  Beth sneezed and began to whimper. With Joss clinging to her like a small limpet, Eloise reached over to lift Beth from her cot. Glancing over her shoulder she saw that Phoebe was fully occupied, attempting to restore a semblance of order to the nursery, and Eloise cuddled her children, whispering words of comfort and assuring them that she was not far away and would come and see them every day. Beth snuggled up to her and smiled, but Eloise could not tell whether Joss had understood, and this was more distressing than all his tears and tantrums.

  Phoebe had managed at last to soothe most of the infants, and she bustled up to Eloise with a new air of confidence. 'Well, don't that beat all? That's the first time I've managed all on me own, with a bit of help from you, of course, Ellen.' She held her arms out. 'Let me take the boy and I'll sort his wet bum out. Perhaps that will put him in a better temper.'

  Joss recoiled visibly at the sight of her, and Eloise clutched him even tighter. 'Let me do it, Phoebe.'

  'I dunno about that,' Phoebe said, shaking her head. 'Matron will chew me ears off if she finds out that I let a charwoman do me job.'

  'I got six younger brothers and sisters at home. I bet I've changed more wet bums than you have, and I like babies.' The lies came tripping off her tongue, but Eloise did not care if she died and went to hell; nothing could be worse than being separated from her children and this was her chance to give Joss some loving care and attention. It broke her heart to realise that he had withdrawn into a world of his own where she could not reach him.

  'Oh, all right then. I suppose it won't hurt just this once, but you'll get into trouble if Matron finds out you've not done the cleaning.'

  'I was nearly finished anyway, and I'll work twice as fast when I've settled these two little moppets.' Eloise settled Beth back in her cot while she saw to Joss, and he allowed her to change him without a protest.

  Phoebe cocked her head on one side and she ran to the door, opening it a crack and peering out. 'Hurry up, Ellen. Matron is doing her rounds. You'd best get out of here or we'll both be in trouble.'

  With a final kiss on their cheeks, Eloise had to drag herself away from her children. With the utmost reluctance, she slipped out of the nursery unseen by Matron, who had stopped to speak to another nurse just a little way along the corridor. With renewed vigour, Eloise set about scrubbing the floorboards. Her joy on being reunited with her babies was tempered by concern for Joss. Beth was too young to be fully aware of what had happened to them, but Joss was obviously in a state of shock and his inability or unwillingness to speak was more frightening than a hundred screaming fits. She must visit them as many times a day as she could manage, but she must also take care not to antagonise Matron any further. It was going to be difficult, but where her children were concerned anything was possible, and no risk too great.

  The rest of the morning passed uneventfully and even Matron could find no fault with the quality of Eloise's work. The other two charwomen eyed her warily and made it plain that they did not appreciate someone who worked too hard, but Eloise was unrepentant. She was, however, a little anxious as to her reception from the rest of the staff when she went down to the dining room for their main meal, which was served after the children had eaten at midday. Having spilt and spoilt their breakfast porridge and caused Cook to have an accident, Eloise was certain that she would be the most unpopular person in the whole hospital. It was hunger that finally forced her to enter the dining room, which she did with a determined lift of her chin, ready to parry any barbed comments she might receive. It came as a surprise to find that, far from being a pariah, she was welcomed with smiles and pats on the back.

  Tibbie had saved a place for her at the main table and she waved and beckoned to Eloise, smiling broadly. 'You done it on purpose, didn't you? You tipped the coke on the floor just so that the old cow would fall flat on her backside.'

  Becky had come to join them and she slapped Eloise on the shoulder. 'I heard what you done, Ellen. Good for you. The old bitch had it coming.'

  Around her, everyone was smiling and winking as though she was a heroine, and Eloise was dazed by the sudden turn of events. She acknowledged their unspoken approval with a nod and a smile, and then she bent her head over her plate of food, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself. She had already made an enemy of Mrs Cater and Miss Marchant; she could not afford to offend them further.

  Late that afternoon, when Matron was busy supervising the children's teatime meal, Eloise managed to slip upstairs to the nursery where she found that Phoebe was still on duty. She was sitting in a low chair giving one of the babies its bottle. 'You just can't keep away, can you, Ellen?'

  'I always wanted to be a nursemaid,' Eloise said glibly. 'I thought if I got a bit of practice in, I might be able to apply for a position in a big house or even here.'

  'Dunno why anyone would want to work with nippers,' Phoebe replied, shrugging. 'I wanted to be a proper nurse but they don't take on girls like me. I'm too common to train in one of them schools of nursing, so I ended up here, wiping dirty bums and clearing up baby sick.'

  'There are worse jobs,' Eloise said, craning her neck to catch a glimpse of Joss and Beth.

  'That's as maybe, but I'm not going to stay here any longer than I have to. I'm stepping out with a chap who works on the docks. We're going to get hitched when we've saved up enough, or if I happen to get in the family way, whichever comes first. Not that I particularly want nippers, not after putting up with this lot.'

  Eloise edged closer to the cots where Joss and Beth l
ay behind bars like tiny prisoners. Although Beth slept peacefully enough, apart from the occasional sneeze, Joss was wide awake, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

  'He won't eat,' Phoebe said, shaking her head. 'Won't touch nothing, but his little sister she took her bottle all right at dinnertime in spite of her nose being all blocked up, and she even managed a bit of mashed tater and gravy. In fact, she ain't no trouble, but him, he's a difficult one.'

  Eloise lifted Joss from his cot, and as she held his small body in her arms a frisson of fear ran through her veins. His limbs were stiff and his cheeks were pale. He rested his head against her shoulder but he neither spoke nor gave any obvious sign that he knew her. In the middle of the room a table was set with tea, and those who were big enough to sit unaided and feed themselves were seated in high chairs eating bread and butter. Eloise carried Joss to the table and she tried to tempt him with a thin slice, but he turned his head away. She poured milk into a cup and held it to his lips. At first he shook his head, but she persevered gently and finally he took a sip. 'Good boy, Joss,' Eloise whispered in his ear. 'Try a little more, darling.'

  Studying her face as if he was trying to place her, Joss took another mouthful, and then seemed to realise that he was thirsty and finished the whole cupful. Eloise could have cried with relief, but she schooled her features into a smile of approval. 'Now, how about a little bit of bupper?'

  The familiar baby name for his favourite teatime food seemed to register with Joss and he opened his mouth. Eloise broke off a morsel and popped it between his lips, followed by another and another until he had eaten the whole slice.

  'Well, I said it afore and I'll say it again,' Phoebe said, hitching the baby over her shoulder and patting its back. 'You got a way with nippers, Ellen. You can come in any time I'm on duty and look after young master awkward there. I can't do nothing with the little perisher.'

  Eloise bit back a sharp retort and she hugged Joss a little closer. 'Maybe if you knew his name you might get more out of him.'

  'I told you, he's not all there. He probably don't know his own name, even if he could speak, which he can't.'

  'Maybe he'll speak to me,' Eloise said casually. 'I'll whisper in his ear and make out we're playing a game.'

  'Suit yourself, but you'll be wasting your time. He's a mute if ever I saw one.'

  Eloise placed her lips close to Joss's ear and whispered the question. As she had feared, he did not respond, but she forced her cold lips into a smile and raised her voice so that Phoebe could hear. 'Now you whisper to me, my boy. What is your name?' She put her ear close to his face, but Joss remained silent. She turned again to Phoebe. 'He says his name is Joss.'

  'Well I never! Are you sure?'

  'I heard him quite clearly. I think the poor child is just too frightened to speak, but he whispered his name in my ear.'

  Phoebe rose to her feet and placed the baby back in its cot. She hurried to the table to scold a child who had spilt his milk. 'Naughty boy. You shan't have any cake for that.'

  'Oh, come now, Phoebe,' Eloise protested. 'That's not fair. It was an accident.'

  'Yes, and you'd know all about accidents. I heard what went on in the kitchen. You was lucky that Matron didn't give you the sack, but maybe she quite liked the idea of Cook sprawling flat on her back like an upturned beetle. Wish I'd seen it.'

  Eloise gave Joss a last loving hug and set him back in his cot. 'Mama will come again later, sweetheart,' she whispered, and then as Beth was stirring she picked her up in her arms. 'Would you like me to see to this one, Phoebe?'

  'You can have her for all I care,' Phoebe replied crossly. She made a tut-tutting sound as one of the small girls spat a lump of half-chewed bread and butter onto the table. 'I dunno! Bloody little animals.'

  'Mama!' Beth said in a loud clear voice. 'Mama.' She wrapped her small arms around Eloise's neck and gave her a rather moist kiss on the cheek.

  'She thinks you're her ma,' Phoebe said scornfully. 'Both of them are soft in the head if you ask me, but they seem to have taken to you. Why don't you ask her what her name is?'

  Eloise held a cup of milk to Beth's lips and watched her drink with an inward sigh of relief. 'I think she's a bit young to tell me that, but maybe Joss knows.'

  'Go on then, you ask him.'

  Eloise went through the same routine as before, leaning over Joss in his cot and speaking to him in whispers. She straightened up, settling Beth on her hip as she went to fetch some bread and butter from the table. 'He says she is called Beth. He is quite sensible, Phoebe. You just have to treat him right.'

  'I got twelve little buggers to care for, mostly single-handed. I ain't got the time to pander to their carryings on.' Phoebe snatched up a child who had fallen off her seat and was bawling loudly. 'There, there, Dora. Rub it in. That's what my mum always says to us.' She turned to glance at the white-faced clock on the wall. 'Just look at the time. You'd best get going, Ellen. It's almost time for Matron's ward round. She inspects every morning and every afternoon at teatime. She'd better not find you here.'

  Reluctantly, Eloise sat Beth in a high chair and gave her some bread and butter. Although Beth was full of cold and finding it difficult to eat and breathe at the same time, she was obviously hungry and that was a good sign. Eloise hesitated, watching her daughter's attempts at eating with an aching heart as she recalled happier times in the days before Ronnie was lost at sea. She thought of teatime at her little house in Myrtle Street, sitting round the fire in winter with Joss kneeling at her side as she impaled slices of bread on the toasting fork and held them close to the glowing coals. She could almost smell the appetising aroma of hot toast which they ate dripping with butter and jam or honey. Beth was a tiny baby then, sleeping peacefully in her cradle, and it had never occurred to Eloise that life could change so drastically, and so much for the worse.

  'For Gawd's sake stop daydreaming, Ellen,' Phoebe said pushing her towards the door. 'She'll be here any minute and we'll both be in real trouble.'

  Eloise came back to reality with a start. 'Yes, I'll go now. But I'll come again tomorrow.'

  'Good, but be careful. You don't want to get on the wrong side of Miss Marchant.'

  In the middle of the night, Eloise awakened from a deep sleep with the feeling that something was terribly wrong. She sat up in her narrow bed, grimacing as the iron bedstead groaned in protest, but Tibbie and Becky were fast asleep and did not stir even when the floorboards creaked or the latch on the door made a loud click. Barefoot and wearing nothing but her shift, Eloise crept downstairs to the nursery. Even before she reached the door, she could hear loud wailing and she knew that it was Joss. The keening noise was more like that of an animal in distress than a small child and Eloise burst into the room, not caring if she roused the whole hospital as she ran to snatch her son from his cot. His anguished sobs had awakened most of the other infants and they had added their cries to the cacophony of sound. Eloise rocked Joss in her arms, pacing the floor and praying silently that whoever was on night duty would not come rushing into the nursery and discover her presence. She began to sing a lullaby that she had sung to Joss when he was a tiny baby, and gradually he began to quieten. His small fingers were entwined in her long hair, and his body shook even though his sobbing had ceased. Eloise went through her whole repertoire of lullabies and the crying gradually ceased as small faces turned towards her. She moved from cot to cot, smiling and wiping away tears with a clean napkin. One by one, the infants closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep, and feeling Joss's head heavy against her neck and hearing his soft, rhythmic breathing, Eloise realised that he too had succumbed, and she laid him gently in his cot. She went round the nursery covering the ones who had kicked off their blankets, and finally checking again on Joss and Beth. As she leaned over the cot rails to kiss them, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and Eloise knew that she was being watched.

  Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, she straightened up and turned round to face the door. Th
ere, standing in the shadows, was a tall figure dressed in black. She could not see his face but she knew instinctively that it was Caine. He beckoned silently and she moved towards him like a sleepwalker. He held the door open and she went past him into the corridor, anticipating the full force of his wrath.

  He closed the door softly. 'This is not the place to talk, Miss Monk. Be so good as to come to my office.' Caine took a lighted oil lamp from a side table and walked off along the corridor to a room at the far end.

  She was certain that this time she would be dismissed, but she had no option other than to follow him. In her agitated state Eloise had almost forgotten that she was naked beneath her shift, but as he ushered her into the room she realised what a sight she must look. The skimpy material of the garment left very little to the imagination as it skimmed the curve of her breasts and clung to her narrow hips, outlining her thighs and stopping just above her ankles. She flicked her long hair over her shoulders in an attempt to cover her modesty and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

  Caine set the lamp down on his desk and turned to give her a cursory glance. 'You're shivering,' he said, taking off his frock coat and slipping it around her shoulders. 'Take a seat by the fire, Miss Monk.'

  Eloise had expected an angry tirade but this chivalrous treatment left her confused and even more embarrassed. 'It's not what you think,' she began tentatively.

  'What do I think? Tell me. I would like to know.'

  'You're playing with words, Mr Caine.'

  'I find you in the nursery, in the middle of the night when those who are not on duty are asleep in their beds. What am I to think?'

  'I couldn't sleep and I heard a baby crying. No one seemed to take any notice of the poor little thing and so I went to see what was wrong.'

  'It was none of your business. If anything you should have reported the lapse to me or to Matron.'