For a Mother's Sins

by Diane Allen

  ‘Hush, now. We’ll see you right, lad. She might not come round again, and then nobody will know. To be on the safe side, it’s best you go away for a bit, my pet. After chapel, John will take you to Skipton station and you must take the train to Durham. I’ll give you a note for your aunt Nancy, telling her you’ve not been well and need a rest. Give it to her and she’ll see you right. I’ve packed your things already and put your share of the savings in there – mind you keep it to yourself.’ Rose held her son’s face in her hands and kissed him on the brow. ‘Whatever made you think we loved you less? You’re my baby, you’re my special one.’ She held him tight in her arms as tears dropped down her cheeks. Her last-born; would she ever see him again? God protect him, she prayed, and keep the Mason girl quiet. Please, God, let her be quiet.

  10

  Molly held Lizzie’s limp white hand while the doctor examined her broken limbs and inspected her cuts and bruises.

  ‘How is she, Doctor? Is she going to live? You’re not going to operate, are you?’ Molly’s voice was full of fear as she watched the doctor run his hands over her daughter’s limbs and open her eyelids, looking into her pupils.

  ‘Stop worrying, Mrs Mason. She’s taken a nasty fall, but I think her breaks are repairable. It’s the knock on the head I’m not too sure of. She appears to be suffering with that and the cold more than anything. Nurse, pass me those splints and let’s set this leg and arm while she’s out for the count and can’t feel much pain.’

  Assisted by the nurse, Doctor Thistlethwaite pushed and pulled the left leg until the broken bone was in position, then he bound it tight with bandages and wooden splints. Even though she was under the influence of morphine and asleep, Lizzie winced and moaned in pain, but she didn’t come to even when he moved on to her arm and repeated the whole procedure.

  All the while, Molly stroked her brow and whispered to her, tears rolling down her cheeks as she felt the pain with her.

  ‘Nurse, wash her cuts and bruises and then cover her with a layer or two of blankets – she’s got to get some warmth into that frozen body of hers.’

  Beckoning for Molly to follow, Doctor Thistlethwaite stepped away from the bed. ‘I’ve done the best I can, but she might have a limp when that break heals. She’s lucky they found her when they did. A few more hours out there on the fell and the shock from her injuries would have killed her.’

  The nurse reappeared with a bowl of warm water and cloth, but as she approached the bed Molly stepped in.

  ‘I’ll do it. She’s my daughter, I’ll wash and tidy her.’

  As she reached for the bowl, the nurse gave the doctor a questioning look. He nodded for her to hand it over.

  ‘Very well, Mrs Mason. Carry on. But make sure you get her warm.’ He patted Molly on the shoulder as she set about cleaning her daughter’s wounds. ‘Sit with her all day, if you wish – I know you’ll only worry about her if you go home. We’ll keep an eye on her and see what she’s like when she regains consciousness.’

  ‘Do you think you should let her, Doctor? She’s not qualified,’ sniffed the nurse, looking down her nose at Molly.

  ‘Sometimes a mother’s love can heal things that we have no hope of curing, Nurse. Besides, I’ve been watching Mrs Mason – she’s got a way with the patients. I think she needs nurturing, she could well be an asset to us.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite smiled as Molly tenderly swaddled Lizzie in blankets. ‘There’s nothing like kindness to make a good nurse.’

  ‘More like a common slut,’ the nurse muttered under her breath as the doctor turned and went about his business. She could see that Molly Mason was beginning to worm her way into her world and she wasn’t going to stand for that.

  ‘Well, has he got away then?’ Rose covered a sniffle as John closed the door behind him and sat down at the table.

  ‘Aye, he’s gone. Looked a bit fretful, but he climbed on board and waved at me as the train set off.’ John leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

  ‘I can’t understand what good our Bob will be to Nancy,’ said Jim, in the dark about the real purpose of his son’s visit. ‘The last person I’d want about the place would be our Bob. He’s neither use nor ornament most of the time.’

  ‘She wanted someone to light her fire and get her shopping, that’s all. Besides it’ll do him good to live in a city for a while.’ Rose looked at John, hoping he wasn’t about to expose her lies.

  ‘Aye, but our Bob?’ Jim picked up his newspaper and began to read.

  While Jim smoked his pipe and lost himself in his paper, Rose beckoned for her son to follow her outside. When he proved reluctant, she grabbed his shirtsleeve and tugged until he got up and went with her.

  ‘Was he all right, my lad – he wasn’t too upset, was he?’ she asked, as soon as Jim was out of earshot. ‘Do you think he understood that there was nothing else we could do?’

  ‘He was fine, Ma. He was more excited about going on a train than anything else. You’d swear he’d hadn’t a clue what he’d done or how serious it was. When the whistle blew and steam started coming out of the engine, he was so excited you’d have thought he was five years old not seventeen. I suppose it’s the first time he’s seen a train up close.’

  ‘As long as he’s all right,’ fretted Rose. ‘I’ll bother myself to death until I hear from him.’ She peeked through the window to make sure that Jim was still reading by the fire, then whispered, ‘You’d better get down to that hospital and see if Lizzie is still with us. I know I shouldn’t say it, but I rather hope she’s gone to a better place. God have mercy on both our souls, but at least she’d take her secret with her and my lad would be safe.’

  John bit his lip, not trusting himself to reply.

  ‘Say nothing to her mother,’ Rose continued. ‘If anyone asks, just say we were concerned about Lizzie.’ Then she turned away and went back indoors.

  John was desperate to return to the hospital, not to do his mother’s bidding but because he wanted to tell Molly how sorry he was and to make sure Lizzie was all right. He couldn’t understand his mother wishing the poor lass dead. After all it was Bob who had done her wrong and, if it was up to John, he would suffer the consequences.

  It was only as he entered the hospital that it struck him: if Lizzie had awoken and repeated her accusation, what sort of reception could he expect? He stepped into the ward with some trepidation.

  ‘You all right, John lad?’ came a voice from one of the beds. It was a workmate of his from the tunnel, who’d recently been admitted as a patient.

  ‘Aye, grand,’ said John, nervously continuing to the far end of the hut where he could see Molly sitting by Lizzie’s bedside.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going? You can’t come in here!’

  It was Starchy Drawers. John was in no mood for being told what to do.

  ‘Oh aye? And who’s going to stop me, ’cause it’ll not be thee,’ muttered John, who was in no mood for the flibbertigibbet of a nurse with all her airs and graces. He strode to Molly’s side and touched her on the shoulder. ‘How is she?’

  The small white figure underneath the blankets looked more frail than ever, and when she turned her face towards him he could see the pain in Molly’s eyes.

  ‘She’s so ill, John, it’s touch and go. Doctor’s done all he can, now we’ve just to wait to see if she pulls through.’ Molly patted her daughter’s hand and looked sorrowfully at him.

  ‘Has she spoken yet? Has she told you what happened?’ He felt bad asking, but if he went back to his mother’s without an answer it’d be the worse for him.

  ‘Not a word. She’s not come to since you carried her in.’ Molly broke down, her body shaking with grief.

  ‘Aye, come here, pet, stop your worrying. She’s a strong one, is Lizzie. She’ll not give in without a fight.’ John held her shaking body in his arms and tried to comfort her.

  ‘You see, Doctor Thistlethwaite! This is what happens when you let these types into the hospital. Fornication! I can�
�t believe my eyes.’ The nurse was screeching her views at the poor doctor as they approached.

  ‘I don’t think I’d go as far as that, Nurse. I’d say this gentleman is consoling Mrs Mason. Indeed, I would have done the same myself had I been given the time.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite looked at John as if he was weighing up the opposition.

  The nurse glared enviously at Molly, who stared back at her, not giving her an inch even though she was upset.

  ‘Is she going to be all right, Doctor?’ asked John, loosening his grip on Molly as she sat back down next to Lizzie’s side.

  ‘We’ll see. It’s the blow to the head I’m concerned with, but her colour’s coming back, so that’s a good sign.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite smiled at Molly as he felt Lizzie’s head. ‘She’s in good hands. With God’s help, she’ll survive.’

  ‘Well? How is she?’ No sooner had John walked through the door than his mother was asking.

  ‘She’s in a bad way, but her colour’s coming back, so there’s hope.’

  ‘Is she talking, lad? That’s all I want to know.’ Rose was so agitated she’d forgotten that Jim was in the room.

  ‘Nay, Mother, she’s hardly going to have a conversation with him if she’s that poorly.’ Jim put his paper down on his knee and looked at his distraught wife.

  ‘She’s not said a word since she was taken in.’ John was seething. His mother’s behaviour was despicable. How could she wish another woman’s child dead, just so her own could go unpunished?

  Rose heaved a sigh of relief, ‘Let the Lord protect her – and others.’

  John was still standing in the doorway. With Mike and Bob gone, it was just him and his parents, meaning he’d have Rose’s undivided attention. He looked at his father, smoking his pipe and reading his paper, oblivious to his scheming, manipulative wife. How could he be so content with his lot?

  ‘I’m off out,’ John announced, turning to leave. As he closed the door behind him he heard his mother calling after him not to be late for his supper.

  It was nearly dusk and there was a chill in the air. John buttoned his jacket up. He hadn’t changed out of his Sunday best, but there was no way he could face going back into the house now. He set off walking, and kept going until he found himself under one of the few completed arches of the viaduct. He looked up at the scaffolding and, beyond it, the darkening sky. You could get dizzy just looking up there, never mind climbing up the scaffolding and perching up there while you worked. The great blocks of granite used to build the viaduct were so heavy that he’d seen many a horse break a leg trying to pull the heavy loads through the mire. All for the sake of some rich businessmen, wanting to build a line that could compete with the West Coast and East Coast lines. Surely, they must have looked at a map and seen the mountains and mires and fells that the line would have to cross on its journey between Settle and Appleby? He’d seen them in their fancy suits and hats, when the foreman of the works took them to inspect the tunnel. They’d stood there, in everyone’s hearing, complaining that the tunnelling wasn’t proceeding fast enough. That bloody railway was their only concern. The welfare of their employees meant nothing to them. They didn’t care how many workers died.

  John leaned his back against the scaffolding and gazed down the valley towards Gearstones. He could just make out the twinkling of oil lamps being lit in the lodge’s windows. He wondered how his brother Mike was doing with his new bride. He hadn’t had a chance to catch up with him since he moved out. He’d try and seek him out tomorrow before work. He lit his pipe and breathed in the tobacco while thinking about Molly. She was a bonny woman, and he’d been impressed by the way she’d set about bettering herself, landing the job at the hospital and restoring her pride and self-respect. He could do worse, he told himself. Yes, she was a widow and a mother and older than him. It seemed only the other day he’d joked about it as he put a bet on with Mike as to who’d be first to woo her, but now he was starting to think he could do a lot worse than to court Molly Mason – to hell with his mother and her opinion on the matter.

  11

  Autumn came quickly to Ribblehead. Gales swept the navvy settlements on Batty Green, the strong gusts blowing men off the viaduct and making work impossible. The hospital was busier than ever, with accidents a daily occurrence.

  Lizzie sat up in bed, trying to shut out the screams of the latest patient to be admitted. She’d been looking forward to this day. After seven long weeks, the wooden splints on her leg and arm were going to be removed.

  ‘Are you all right, my love?’ Molly appeared by her bedside, anxious lest her daughter had been upset by screams from the latest victim of the railway.

  ‘I’m fine, Ma. When’s Doctor Thistlethwaite going to come and take my splints off? I want to go home.’

  ‘Hush now, pet. The doctor has to attend to that poor man first. Besides, what’s the hurry to get home? You’ll only get bored – don’t forget you’re going to need to take it easy for a while. No doing anything silly, else you’ll be back in here.’ Molly ruffled her daughter’s hair fondly.

  ‘Molly, can you help me see to this patient?’ called Doctor Thistlethwaite.

  She immediately hurried to his side, happy to oblige. She’d learned a lot about nursing in the days and nights she’d kept vigil over Lizzie, hoping and praying that she’d live through her ordeal, watching as she fought for her life. And then one morning Lizzie had suddenly come round and it was as if nothing had happened. Aside from the fact that her arm and leg remained in splints and she had no recollection of how she had been injured, Lizzie showed no ill effects. It was a miracle, and Molly had been so overwhelmed with joy that she’d planted a kiss on Doctor Thistlethwaite’s cheek. Ever since then, they had been on first-name terms – to the obvious displeasure of Nurse Starchy Drawers.

  ‘Now, Lizzie, today is the day.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite leaned over his patient. ‘Pass me those scissors, Molly. Let’s get these splints off and see what we are left with. Arm first, Lizzie.’

  He snipped away at the bandages that had been in place since the day Lizzie was admitted to hospital, revealing a white shrivelled stick of an arm.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, seeing the dismay on her face. ‘It’ll only take a week or two for the muscle to build up. Before you know it, that arm will match the other one. Bend it for me, please, Lizzie.’

  She moved it tentatively. The limb felt stiff and delicate, and she was frightened it would snap.

  ‘Excellent! Keep moving it and everything will be fine.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite felt the length of the arm and beamed with satisfaction. ‘Now the leg. You’ll not be able to run straight away, young lady. I warn you, it will be a long process, but at least you’ve got two legs – not like old George over there.’

  Despite his jolly demeanour, the doctor was far from confident that he’d been successful in setting the bone correctly. It had been a bad break, and as always in such cases there was a risk the limb would be permanently deformed. Still he smiled and kept the conversation light and breezy as he removed the splints and bandages, and ran his fingers along the bone.

  ‘Stand up for me,’ he said. ‘Put your weight on your mother, because your leg will be too weak at the moment.’

  Lizzie looked uncertainly at her mother. She didn’t want to put her foot down, it felt too strange and she didn’t dare.

  ‘Come on, Lizzie, you can do it. Hold on to me.’ Molly held her hand out and helped her daughter to her feet.

  ‘Well done! Now, ladies, let’s see you walk all the way to the door.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite stood back and watched as Lizzie and her mother slowly walked to the door and back, limping slightly but walking all the same.

  ‘Excellent! I’m delighted to say it looks as though you’ve come through your misfortune virtually unscathed, Lizzie.’ Doctor Thistlethwaite turned to Molly, whose eyes were brimming with tears, and added, ‘I can see your mother is delighted too. Now then, it’s about time you went home, isn’t it? I’m sure you’ve had
enough of this place.’

  ‘John promised to come for me, didn’t he, Ma? He said he’d come after work. He promised to carry me – just until I get stronger.’ Lizzie’s eyes lit up, knowing that she would be leaving the hospital. She’d hated every minute, stuck there with no escape from the smell of blood and urine, and the moans and groans of injured and dying men. Especially those nights when she was on her own after her mother had finished work.

  ‘Yes, he’ll be here. I spoke to him this morning.’ Molly laughed and ran her fingers through Lizzie’s long black hair.

  ‘I can take her if you want, Molly. It’s no problem,’ volunteered Doctor Thistlethwaite.

  ‘Thank you, Doctor, but John promised. Besides, you’re needed here.’ Molly smiled warmly at him. He couldn’t have been kinder these last few weeks. Since Lizzie’s accident, the two of them had become close friends.

  ‘If you’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. Lizzie is no lightweight and John’s used to carrying awkward loads.’ Molly grinned as Lizzie pulled a face at hearing herself described as an awkward load.

  As the doctor walked away, Molly sat on the bed next to Lizzie and began encouraging her to move her leg and arm.

  ‘Two grown men, fighting over a woman her age!’ sniffed Nurse Starchy Drawers, unimpressed by what she had just witnessed.

  ‘Why not?’ piped up the elderly patient whose temperature she was supposed to be taking. ‘At least she’s a proper woman – unlike some I could mention!’

  And as she stuck her nose in the air and stormed off in a huff, the old man roared with laughter.

  ‘What’s that you’re reading, Ma?’ John had just finished washing himself down with warm water from the jug and was drying himself with the coarse towel before pulling his shirt on.