Daughters of Liverpool

by Kate Eastham

He paused, still gazing at her, looking for affirmation, but Alice merely shrugged.

  ‘My wife is a stranger to me, and yes, we have a child, but there is no closeness in our relationship. Please forgive me, Alice, for not telling you about all of this. It’s just that I knew that you wouldn’t even consider me if you knew that I was married. I wanted to spend time with you so desperately …’

  Alice looked down. She could feel her resolve softening and she had a lump in her throat.

  Don’t give in, don’t give in, she was saying over and over in her head, but she could feel her knees weakening and her heart was pounding in her chest, drowning out all sense of anything else.

  He was moving towards her, he was standing by her. She could smell him now, the cologne that he always wore. He was right there and all she could do was reach for him and bury her face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him.

  ‘This is absolutely the wrong thing,’ she whispered, when she was able to speak. ‘I should not be doing this …’

  But it was too late, she was kissing him, the sensation of it coursing right through her body.

  ‘Maybe not,’ he murmured, between kisses. ‘But it seems that neither of us have any choice.’

  Then Alice drew back and took a deep breath, straining her ears. Yes, she was right, she could hear a faint whimper coming from the bedroom.

  She took a step away from him, listening again, her body still aching, craving for him, her breath coming quick.

  ‘Alice …’ he said, his eyes pleading with her, reaching an arm out towards her.

  ‘It’s my daughter,’ she said. ‘I think she’s waking.’

  ‘Go and see to her,’ he said. ‘I can wait here …’

  ‘I don’t know if you should,’ she said, shaking her head now. ‘It’s just that, yes, I feel drawn to you, this thing between us is so strong. But you have a child of your own. And you have a wife. What about them? How old is your child – is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘A girl, Elizabeth, and she is three years old.’

  Alice felt a tightening in her chest. She knew in that moment, now that she had a name for his child and a sense of who the girl was, she knew what she needed to do, but it ran against what her body was screaming for her to do.

  ‘That’s what I hate about this,’ she made herself say, her voice almost a whisper. ‘That’s why I can’t continue with whatever this is between us. You have a child and a wife, and I can’t bear to think what this would do to them, if they found out.’

  ‘But they won’t—’

  Alice held up her hand. ‘Even if they don’t find out, I know, I still know about them. Your wife is a woman with feelings, and like me, she has a daughter.’

  ‘Alice, please …’

  ‘No,’ she said emphatically, grabbing the bread board from the table, and holding it in front of her like a shield. ‘I need you to leave.’

  In that space that had opened up between them, Alice felt her heart wrung out with longing. Her whole body was screaming, wanting to hold him, go back to where they were minutes earlier. She couldn’t even trust herself to look at him, she wanted him so much.

  That’s when Victoria started crying, properly now, and it gave her the extra energy that she needed.

  ‘Just go,’ she said firmly. ‘And don’t try to see me again.’

  She still couldn’t look at him, but she sensed him picking up his hat and then she heard the snap of the door behind him. She stood, frozen, all alone in the kitchen, and then she realized that her baby was still crying in the next room.

  As Alice picked her daughter up from the crib, she felt her body convulse with sorrow – or was it pain? She didn’t even know what it was. She sat down heavily on the bed with Victoria in her arms. And then she was crying as well, alongside her daughter. For a few minutes they were both howling together.

  Alice could feel her daughter becoming more distressed, picking up on her own sorrow. She knew that she couldn’t just sit there with her, weeping. She made herself stand up, and then she pulled a small towel off her dresser and wiped it around her face, wiping over and over again until she had made herself stop crying and dried all of the tears. Looking down to her daughter, she tried to smile at her, but her face felt tight and swollen. She made herself smile and then she started whispering. ‘You are all I need, my darling, you are mine, my daughter,’ her voice punctuated by small sobs.

  At last she could see the baby starting to settle and she sat back down on the bed with her, singing a simple lullaby that her father had taught her. Her voice was husky and out of tune as she sang, but the words and the act of giving voice started to soothe her own spirits and very soon, she could see her daughter’s eyelids starting to close as she went back to sleep.

  Alice did cry again after she got herself into bed, softly this time, into her pillow. And she woke a number of times during the night, crying. But each time she woke she told herself over and over, that she had made the right decision. That what she’d done was the best for everyone …

  ‘You did what?’ repeated Eddy, for the second time, as Alice told her hurriedly on the way to work what had happened the night before.

  ‘Well, I know you’d said you never wanted to see that lying so-and-so ever again. But Alice, clearly, you adore him.’

  ‘I do, I want him so much, I’ve never met a man like that,’ stated Alice, feeling her chest tighten and the tears springing to her eyes. ‘But it’s not the right thing, Eddy. Not when he has a wife and child.’

  ‘Crikey, Alice,’ said Eddy, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. ‘I knew you could be stubborn at times, but I never thought you could be so determined. Not like this. I am very proud of you. I don’t think I would ever have the will power to do what you’re doing.’

  ‘I’m not really sure that I have the will power either,’ sniffed Alice, wiping the tears away with the flat of her hand.

  She did find the will power, however, and week after week she poured more and more into her work at the hospital. And every day as she spent time with Victoria she thought about his daughter, Elizabeth, and she told herself that she’d done the right thing.

  She went for afternoon tea with the Reverend Seed on a regular basis and she was increasingly drawn to his kindness. She knew what he was thinking – it was easy to see in his eyes – but for the time being, she didn’t want anything more than friendship. She still thought about Morgan, of course she did, but each time she remembered him she made herself think about how devastated she’d been that day she’d found out that he was married. How she’d sat and wept in the back yard.

  And then she remembered what Sue Cassidy had told her that day about what her mam always said when she was having trouble with a fella … ‘The whole lot of ’em can go hang.’

  Weeks later Alice stood at the top of Female Medical, checking that all was in order before Sister’s inspection. She couldn’t help but admire the tidiness and cleanliness of the ward as the patients sat up in their beds, neatly awaiting the doctor’s round. Alice was sure that Florence Nightingale herself would give them the highest commendation to Sister Fox.

  However, Alice knew that despite how well she’d actually managed on this ward, the medical wards were steady, predictable, compared to surgical. The patients could be very poorly on admission, and some of the cases were complex and long-term, but you didn’t get the orderlies running in with a patient covered in blood; you didn’t see that patient go to theatre and return ‘fixed’.

  ‘Nurse Sampson, are we ready?’ said Sister Fox, her voice cutting through Alice’s thoughts like a knife.

  ‘Yes, Sister,’ replied Alice, and then she was required to walk along behind as Sister scrutinized each bed in turn.

  ‘Sloppy work,’ stated Sister, stopping at a particular bed. Alice beckoned to Nurse Kelly and Nurse Parker to come and remake the bed.

  ‘And what’s that, under this bed?’ she screeched, bending down and peering underneath the
next one.

  ‘It appears to be a bed sock,’ said Alice, trying to stop herself from smiling. Anyone would think that Sister had seen a live rat under there.

  Alice fished it out and as she straightened up she caught the eye of Miss Fairchild two beds down. She could see the amusement in the woman’s eyes. Sister Fox’s ward rounds were terrifying for new patients, but the ones who’d been in for a while soon got used to it.

  Alice saw that Miss Fairchild was holding a letter and indicating that she wanted to speak to her as soon as possible.

  Alice was straight there after the ward round and Miss Fairchild handed her the letter. ‘It’s from Maud,’ she said. ‘She’s coming back. I do hope that she’s making the right decision, what with her work out there and everything, but I have to say that I’m so glad now that Mrs Watson wrote to her. She will be back as soon as she can make arrangements. And she wants me to make enquiries at the Blue Coat School for Alfred, to see if we can get a place for him back there. So she must be thinking of coming back for good … Oh, Alice, I am so excited about them coming home. So excited.’

  As Alice read the letter she hoped that Maud had taken everything into account when she’d made her decision and she wasn’t acting impulsively. But then, this was Maud, it was her nature to consider things carefully. So she must be doing the right thing. And then Alice felt tears springing to her eyes when she thought of her, Eddy and Maud being reunited.

  ‘This is good news,’ she said, returning Miss Fairchild’s smile. ‘Now take a deep breath,’ she added gently, noting that her patient was starting to struggle a bit. ‘Just get your breathing back into a steady rhythm.’

  Earlier that day, Dr Logan had discussed the prospect of discharge with Miss Fairchild. He’d told her that they’d reached the limit with her treatment; there was nothing more that they could do.

  ‘I won’t be able to go back to work. It sounds like I’ll be bed-bound for the rest of my life,’ said the housekeeper. ‘But, again, Mrs Watson has proved her weight in gold. She’s spoken to the lady of the house on my behalf, and given that I’ve worked there for thirty years, they want to keep me on to do the books and supervise a new person. They’ve even offered to pay for a private nurse, so that’s more than I expected. Much more.

  ‘And I’ve remembered what you said to me, Alice, all those weeks ago, about sometimes the most you can hope for is that things don’t get any worse, and that has really helped me get things in perspective.’

  Alice smiled and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Well, I’m glad of that, at least,’ she said.

  She smiled all the way from the hospital door to Eddy perched on the steps of the Nurses’ Home.

  ‘Well, well,’ said Eddy. ‘It looks like you’ve had a good day.’

  ‘It’s Maud – she’s coming back, Miss Fairchild’s had a letter.’

  ‘Really? Is that all right?’ said Eddy, jumping up from the step. ‘Is she doing the right thing?’

  ‘Well, I wondered that, but you know what Maud’s like – she always weighs things up properly, she’s not like you and me. She’s Maud.’

  ‘She is, indeed,’ said Eddy, starting to grin. ‘And she’s coming home!’

  When Alice checked her pigeonhole there was a letter waiting for her from Maud too. She turned to Eddy, and as soon as she had the envelope open, Eddy was pulling out the letter and reading it aloud.

  ‘Dear Alice and Eddy,

  Just a short note to let you know that I will be back to Liverpool as soon as I can. It has really helped to have your letters, Alice, about Miss Fairchild’s condition and I know that you will be giving her the best of care on the ward. But I need to see her, and it’s important for Alfred too. So we will be home just as soon as arrangements can be made. This will take at least one month but I will write again when I have the details.

  I have learnt so much here at the hospital in New York, but I can’t wait to be back with you two in Liverpool.

  Warmest wishes from your dearest friend,

  Maud’

  Alice was smiling all through the letter, but then her brow furrowed. ‘No mention of Harry again, and it doesn’t sound like she’s thinking of going back. There’s something not right there, I’m sure there is …’

  ‘Well, we can ask her soon, can’t we?’ said Eddy, starting to jump up and down with excitement. And then she was clinging to Alice and they were both jumping up and down and singing, ‘Maud’s coming home, Maud’s coming home!’, dancing around and around, their feet beating a steady rhythm over the coloured floor tiles of the entrance to the Nurses’ Home.

  As they sang, Millicent Langtry walked by, looking lost in her own world. They both called hello as they continued to dance. Millicent stopped for a moment, tilted her head to one side as she watched them, and then, with a shake of her head, she continued on her way.

  A few moments later, Miss Merryweather peeped out of her door, a small smile on her face. ‘Nurse Sampson, Nurse Pacey … It’s a very good job that the night superintendent has already gone to the wards. It’s time for you both to be heading off, I think?’ Not waiting for a reply, she retreated back inside her room and clicked the door to.

  Eddy pulled a face, making Alice cackle with laughter, the sound bouncing off the walls of the entrance and back up to the skylight in the space behind them. Then Alice grabbed Eddy’s hand and pulled her out through the door and down the steps. ‘Come on, you,’ she said, linking her friend’s arm and pulling her close. ‘I’ve been in enough bother over the last year without you getting me a reprimand for excess noise and frivolous behaviour. It’s a good job Maud’s coming back soon – she’ll keep you in the proper order.’

  Eddy just laughed and continued to talk as they walked away, down the street. And as they disappeared into the evening light, they continued to chatter, their murmuring voices soon lost amidst the clamour of the city.

  1

  ‘Not only the life of your patients may depend on your faithfulness to duty, but by it you may also influence for good their virtue and happiness …’

  Florence Nightingale

  Liverpool, 1872

  ‘Nursey, nursey,’ called a row of barefoot boys, sitting cheekily on a wall near the Albert Dock, swinging their grubby legs as Eddy walked by. She lunged at them and pretended to tickle their feet, laughing more herself than any of the boys. Then, pulling her nurse’s cape back into place, she picked up speed, expertly threading through the crowds of people making their way towards the harbour. One or two of them nodding, smiling or murmuring, ‘Evening, Sister,’ as they went on their way.

  She needed to breathe some air, gather herself, as she often did before going back to the hospital for supplies. Her days on the district were demanding. Out in people’s homes, the nurses were working on their own and dealing with everything. But the work was good and today she was especially pleased, having had a real breakthrough with one of her patients – a young mother of two small children, suffering terribly with consumption. When she’d first visited Sylvia, she’d found her very breathless and spitting blood. It was thought by all involved that her time would be short. For the first week, Eddy had cried every single day when she’d closed the door of that house behind her, leaving Sylvia as comfortable as she could be, propped up in bed with little Rosanna nestled under one arm and Archie under the other.

  But today, after she’d gently helped her to wash, combed her hair and applied soothing cream to the reddened skin on her elbows and the notches of her spine, Sylvia had smiled and said she wanted to sit out of bed and watch the children play for a while. Eddy had been delighted to help her, and even more pleased to note that her breathing was less laboured: the steam inhaler that she’d advised seemed to be making a difference at last. Eddy knew, of course, that there would inevitably be dark days ahead, but today was the first time that she had seen Sylvia smile, and it meant a lot.

  Reaching the waterfront at last, Eddy took a deep breath of salt air and gazed out across the riv
er, savouring the breeze in her face. Looking out towards the ocean, she closed her eyes for a moment, picturing her friend Maud as she boarded a steamship in New York, all the way across the Atlantic. She would be back with them in Liverpool in one week. ‘Safe voyage, Maudie,’ she whispered, blowing a kiss out to sea.

  As she walked through the city, Eddy thought back through her day and all the other patients that she’d seen, making a mental note of the materials that she’d need to replenish her medical bag: cotton wool, lint, bandages, a new bar of carbolic soap, and another mouthpiece for Sylvia’s inhaler. She’d get a bag of sweets for Rosanna and Archie, and see if she could scrounge a few oranges from a street seller, keeping one for Sylvia and any of the other patients who needed them.

  It wasn’t until after she’d collected her materials from the hospital and sat herself down on the steps of the Nurses’ Home to wait for her friend coming off duty that Eddy began to feel tired. But as soon as she saw Alice coming along the path from the Infirmary, she jumped up, waving and shouting enthusiastically. ‘Only one week to go till Maud’s home!’

  ‘Yes!’ called Alice, picking up her uniform skirt and running the rest of the way. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Eddy moved to hug her but then pulled back, ‘You smell strange,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Oh, sorry, yes, there was a bit of an incident on the ward,’ said Alice, indicating the soiled apron that she held rolled up in one hand. ‘I should have known better really, but a delirious man on Male Medical hadn’t eaten anything for days. I’ve been trying since this morning to get some bread and milk inside him and I think it must have gone a bit sour. Anyway, just now I tried again, and he grabbed the bowl and chucked it at me. Then he grabbed me too, and it’s a good job the orderlies were at the next bed – I’ve never seen Michael and Stephen move so fast – but they had him restrained before he could throttle me. Most of it went on my apron, but it was all over the floor as well and Sister Cleary nearly slipped in it when she came running over … It was quite an episode.’