Christmas Angels

by Nadine Dorries

  ‘I can’t possibly sleep,’ she whispered at one point to Staff Nurse, who came in every quarter of an hour and was now crouched down at the side of her chair.

  ‘I don’t see how not,’ said Staff. ‘Have a rest with him. We’ve been in bed all day, but you’ve been up and done a day’s work already. Besides, what does it matter? What else can you do?’ Using the lever on the side of the feeding chair, she tilted it back so that Emily and Louis could at least try and doze together.

  Emily couldn’t answer her and knew she was right. So, safely tipped back in the chair, she allowed herself to drift off between the feeds on the provision that Staff Nurse popped back in every fifteen minutes to ensure that she didn’t miss one.

  The moment Louis turned the corner came just before six. As Emily’s eyelids fluttered open, she could sense the dawn pushing through the blackness of the winter’s night. She looked up through the window and saw the ominous clouds parting to reveal a strip of inky blue dawn sky. She heard a tug blow its horn as it made its way across the Mersey and out to the bar to meet a ship that had docked overnight, waiting to be guided into berth. The bore must be early today, she thought. Having grown up so close to the dockside, she was as aware as anyone of its rhythms. The klaxon wouldn’t sound for two hours yet, but when it did, the men would file down the steps and find at least one ship ready and waiting to be unloaded.

  Her thumb unconsciously caressed the back of Louis’s head. He was still lying flat on her chest, the side of his face now pressed to the side of her breast, close to her heart. She looked down and a profound thrill shot through her as two huge, dark, unblinking eyes stared back up at her. Louis was awake!

  Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh, my goodness! Hello, little one,’ she whispered. And then the second shock hit her as she saw that grasped in Louis’s hand was the complete nasogastric tube. ‘Oh my Lord, how did you do that?’ She gasped and sat forward just as Staff Nurse came into the room.

  ‘Well, would you look at that,’ Staff Nurse said. ‘Wide awake or what?’

  Emily grinned. ‘I know, and he’s pulled out the flaming tube. I knew I should have kept my eye on him.’

  ‘Well, that’s not a problem. If he’s got the strength to pull, he should have the strength now to suck. Why don’t we try him with a bottle? It’s worth a go.’

  Ten minutes later, Emily could not keep the smile from her face as Louis guzzled away at the eight ounces of fluid – half formula, half water – that Staff Nurse had made up and brought in. Louis neither smiled nor cried as he sucked, his entire focus being concentrated on extracting the contents of the bottle, but all the while his eyes never left Emily’s and, in turn, Emily’s never left his.

  ‘Well I never,’ said Staff Nurse, ‘he’s so much better. I think we should try him with another couple of ounces in thirty minutes. We could try not watering it down this time?’

  While Emily had been feeding Louis, Staff Nurse had slipped a thermometer into his bottom. Now she removed it. ‘His pyrexia has gone,’ she said, shaking the thermometer as she spoke. ‘It’s ninety-nine. Under control. You did that, with a little help from the streptomycin.’ She smiled. ‘It always amazes me how rapidly babies and children recover. Literally dying one minute, right as rain the next.’ She placed the thermometer into the kidney dish of diluted Dettol she had brought with her into the cubicle and, turning to Emily, noted that neither Emily nor Louis appeared to be aware that she was there. It was as if they were in their own exclusive world.

  The bottle was finished. Emily grinned from ear to ear and, lifting Louis on to her chest to wind him, she looked up at Staff Nurse. ‘Isn’t he marvellous,’ she said. ‘If he keeps this down, we’ll have cause to be optimistic, I’d say.’

  Staff Nurse made no comment. It was as plain as the morning that was rolling in that something had happened. Sister Haycock had broken the golden rule. She hadn’t nursed Louis like a nurse would but more like a mother and Staff Nurse could see it in her eyes as clear as day. Sister Haycock had fallen in love and there could be only one outcome – her heart would be broken. It was the unspoken code: never become involved because the heartbreak could be lasting and painful and in some cases, as with Sister Tapps, debilitating. ‘You need to be careful there, with that little fella,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Emily, immediately understanding the nurse’s meaning but still not taking her eyes from those that were staring back up at her. ‘I’m not Sister Tapps.’

  ‘That’s a relief then, because you know the older staff on here, they still talk about her. About how she persuaded the doctors to keep that little girl in here for far longer than she should, and how after the girl was finally discharged, Matron had to send Tappsy on holiday to recover because she was so broken.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ said Emily. ‘Tappsy’s breakdown is the worst- kept secret on children’s. But I promise you, that’s not happening to me. I love this little fella already, but I know the rules all right. I have to, I teach them.’

  ‘Good, because it sounds awful. Did you know that the little girl threw her teddy at Tappsy when her parents dragged her away and now it sits on the windowsill in her office and woe betide anyone who touches it.’

  Emily hadn’t heard that bit of the story before and her heart crumpled with sympathy for poor Sister Tapps. But she was well aware of the outcome, and of the fact that from then on Matron had insisted that all nurses in the school be taught about detachment and professional care.

  Staff Nurse had been taught this by Sister Haycock herself, and yet here Sister Haycock was, seemingly unaware that she had broken her own rules, disregarded her own teaching. As she lifted Louis’s face up to her own and smiled a smile of such kindness and love, Staff Nurse almost groaned out loud. Sister Haycock was in for a fall. But as her actions had obviously had a huge part to play in the revival of baby Louis, it would seem that nothing could be done about it.

  ‘Isn’t he beautiful,’ said Emily as she held Louis into her. ‘The streptomycin has done its work. Sister Paige will be so pleased and if it wasn’t so early, I would ring Matron myself.’

  ‘There’s still a long way to go, Sister.’ Staff Nurse sounded her note of caution. ‘I should think he’ll be here for a long time before he can go anywhere, given the state of him.’ She crouched down on to her knees and laid her finger into the palm of Louis’s own. ‘Hey, little one,’ she cooed. And Louis, although now exhausted from the effort of feeding and unable to move his head to see where the voice had come from, responded by lightly grasping her finger. Staff Nurse smiled fondly and said, ‘Well, would you look at that.’

  Emily felt a stab of unreasonable jealousy shoot right through her heart. A frown crossed her brow and, imperceptibly, she moved Louis closer to her. ‘Wonderful, such an improvement,’ she said, but her words were tightly spoken and Staff Nurse could tell. ‘Could you get me some more dispersible aspirin, please.’

  The informality of her manner through the night had disappeared as quickly as the black sky and Staff Nurse had received the message. Sister Haycock was now pulling rank, and, worse than that, she had found an excuse to remove her from Louis’s presence. As she left to fetch the keys for the medicine trolley, she felt a sense of foreboding. Louis had pulled through, but at what cost to Sister Haycock.

  As her footsteps receded, Emily’s eyes never left Louis’s. ‘Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of you and we will get you better,’ she whispered. She scanned Louis’s face for a sign of recognition. How much did he understand, she wondered. How impaired was his development? Had anyone ever spoken to him, or loved him, even?

  ‘I will put Auntie Maisie’s nice clothes on you and you will be looked after so well on ward three – everyone will love you.’

  Again, that stab of jealousy at the thought that Sister Paige would be with Louis and in charge of him all day. She had no power to make good on her promise to look after him. Louis was not her responsibility. When she left the
ward that morning, she would have no excuse to return, other than to assess her nurses.

  Get a grip, Emily, she admonished herself as, in a flash, she realized what she was doing. Breaking her own rules, defying her own teaching.

  She smiled down at him, beaming with joy. But before she could pull back her heart and temper her feelings, Louis sealed the deal. It was as if he sensed what Emily was thinking, so he threw out his only weapon and Emily was snared for ever. The corners of Louis’s mouth lifted. A twitch at first, which halted Emily in her thoughts. But he persevered, demonstrating the determination that had seen him survive for longer than he should have. His facial muscles were weak, it wasn’t easy, but he tried again and this time the twitch at the side of his lips spread into a crease and then he beamed his final salvo up at Emily.

  Tears sprang into Emily’s eyes at the same time as they sprang into Louis’s. She laughed, wishing Dessie were next to her to share the moment. Being very careful not to hurt him, she held Louis into her chest. Her tears dropped on to the top of his now cool and almost bald head and she felt something burn in her heart: a need that was like nothing she had ever felt before; a longing, a desire, and at the same time a fulfilment. For all she knew, this could have been the first time baby Louis had ever smiled, and his smile had been directed at her, Emily.

  ‘That makes us special,’ she whispered into the room. ‘Very special.’

  12

  Gina had been working flat out at the Paiges’ since first thing and it was now well past five o’clock. She’d just finished scrubbing the grate when she heard the latch rise on the back door. She picked up the cloth from the floor, wrung it out and let it plop on to the metal grille in the bucket. Pushing back an errant curl that had escaped from the headscarf she wore tied with a knot at the nape of her neck, she pulled her forearm across her face. She was hot from the exertion of scrubbing, and her pale, freckly face was flushed. She leant back on her heels as a weary Aileen Paige walked towards her.

  ‘Are you still all right for tonight?’ Aileen asked.

  ‘Of course I am. I said I would be, didn’t I?’ said Gina kindly. Since finding out about the wicked game that Mrs Paige was up to, she’d felt a protective fondness towards the hard-working Sister Paige. Even more so since she’d discussed it with her mam. ‘I’ve kept the fire stoked and made sure the water is hot so that you can have a nice bath.’

  ‘Oh, you angel,’ said Aileen as she flung her headscarf on to the hall stand.

  ‘No,’ said Gina, ‘that is definitely you, not me.’

  Aileen laughed. It wasn’t often that Gina heard that sound. ‘And how is Mother?’

  A note of caution crept into Gina’s voice. ‘Oh, you know, just the same as always.’

  ‘Did she eat her lunch?’

  Gina thought how Sister Paige must never stop worrying about people – at the hospital all day, and now here she was straight into enquiring about her mother as soon as she got home.

  ‘Yes, she ate all of it.’ She swallowed hard. That wasn’t quite the whole story.

  Gina had gone into the room after lunch to collect the tray and it was empty, but Mrs Paige denied having eaten her meal. She’d held the plate up to Gina and snarled, ‘I couldn’t eat that disgusting food. You gave me mouldy bread. I threw it into the fire.’

  Gina’s eyes had shot to the fireplace. Nothing was burning, nothing smelt and she very definitely had not made the sandwiches out of mouldy bread. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs Paige, shall I make some more or would you like me to take you to the bathroom now?’

  Mrs Paige hadn’t bothered to answer. She just pretended to struggle up from the chair, putting on her usual elaborate act as, awkwardly and with no consideration for Gina, she leant her full weight against her. Whereas previously Gina had been happy to help her, now, knowing what she did, she felt resentful. Not least because her back often hurt for hours after she got home.

  Gina glanced up at Sister Paige. If she rumbled her, she’d say she’d forgotten what Mrs Paige had told her about the sandwiches.

  ‘Oh, well,’ Aileen replied, oblivious, ‘that’s something at least. I’ll go up and see her before I get ready to go out.’

  ‘Are you enjoying the choir, Sister Paige?’ asked Gina. She almost bit her lip. Her mother had told her to speak only when she was spoken to, but she couldn’t help it because Sister Paige was so friendly. She wanted to talk to her. The days were long and lonely with just Mrs Paige for company and she always looked forward to getting home to her mam and the chance to have a good natter.

  ‘Oh, I am. I really am. The singing, it just lifts your heart, and… you know… you forget everything else.’ Aileen blushed. ‘I’m not actually a very good singer, but it doesn’t seem to matter. No one cares, and the thing is, when we all sing together, it sounds wonderful.’ Her face lit up.

  Gina grinned. ‘Lovely. That sounds really nice. I feel like that sometimes at Mass, when we’re singing. Can I come and hear you on Christmas Eve?’ Now she really did flush. She wanted to take her words right back. She was overstepping the line.

  ‘Oh yes. Anyone can.’ Aileen seemed unperturbed that Gina was talking to her as though she had known her for ever. ‘We’ll be on the steps of St George’s Hall, and then those of us who are from St Angelus will go back there and sing some more carols – first on the hospital steps and then inside, stopping at the entrance to every ward.’

  ‘Will your mam be all right on her own?’ asked Gina. ‘With it being Christmas Eve?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ The smile vanished from Aileen’s face. ‘Josie and her family always spend Christmas with her. I always work Christmas Day, so they have no option. Either they come here or Mother goes to them. It’s the one time of year I put my foot down. My sister and her husband and children will probably take Mother to the Grand for her Christmas lunch and I will have mine on the ward.’ Her Christmas would be like every other: fun on the ward, in the company of patients and colleagues, then back to a dull evening at home. She quickly changed the subject. ‘If that’s Mother’s supper on the range, I’ll take it up to her, but I won’t be long. She doesn’t really mind me being in the choir – I just think she worries about me doing too much.’ Aileen was lying and they both knew it.

  Gina had the sensitivity to look away and, lifting herself off her knees, carried the bucket to the door of the scullery.

  ‘I’ll have a quick bath and change and then we can have our supper together.’

  Gina almost stopped in her tracks. She was both touched and surprised. She had expected to eat her supper alone, at the big kitchen table. Not only was Sister Paige going to eat with her, it sounded as though she really wanted to. It struck her that Sister Paige must be lonely too. She wanted the company of someone younger and Gina’s heart went out to her.

  *

  Aileen was slightly late and the choir had already begun to rehearse as she slipped in through the back doors of the cathedral. The sopranos were furthest from the door and she tried to edge her way inconspicuously around the sides and up to her section. As she turned into the first row, the first pair of eyes she was aware of were Freddie’s. He was standing with the tenors, awaiting instruction from the choirmaster. For a moment he stopped concentrating and she stopped trying to find her place and it was as if no one was singing, as if just for that split second the world had ceased to turn. She felt herself sinking into the large brown eyes with the curly lashes. Neither of them blinked or swallowed – their moment was frozen and they both felt the significance. This meant something. By the time they heard the choirmaster shouting out ‘Stop, everyone! Stop! What is going on with the tenors? Freddie, are you singing with us tonight, or not?’, their fate was sealed.

  The cathedral was freezing and the rehearsal was to last for two and a half hours. Everyone kept their coats on as they sang and most people were still wearing their woollen gloves. In the break halfway through the session they gathered round the glasses of hot squash and biscuits that had been la
id out on a trestle table covered in a long white cloth. Buoyed by his earlier conversation with Norman, Freddie came straight over and spoke to Aileen.

  ‘You made it then. I thought that after such a busy couple of days with the little one and the ward you might have changed your mind.’

  Aileen smiled; she couldn’t help herself. Being in his presence made her feel as though a flame had been lit in her heart. ‘Oh no. I didn’t want to miss this. Besides, it’s a good distraction. We don’t often get a case like little Louis’s, thank goodness,’ she said. She picked up a glass of warm squash and handed it to Freddie. ‘Do you want one of these?’

  He smiled down at her. It was a dangerous smile and it did something to her. Her tummy flipped and her mouth dried.

  ‘Thanks, I do. I won’t be able to sing much longer if I don’t have something to drink. I thought I’d be too tired for tonight, but I don’t feel tired at all now.’ He was feeling confident: she had smiled back at him and he knew he hadn’t got this wrong. Her eyes were looking straight into his and they were smiling, dark and beckoning. ‘I know you said no yesterday, but that was after you said yes – can I have a choice which answer it is I accept?’

  Aileen laughed and almost choked on her squash.

  He took advantage of the moment as he lifted the glass out of her hand and left her free to root around in her handbag for a handkerchief. ‘Well, that definitely sounded like a yes to me, so, here, I have an idea – let’s go to a pub, a nice pub – I know one, I checked it out before I came in here tonight. We can just have the one drink. I’m not being pushy, honest. I can either see you on to the bus afterwards, or if you will let me, I can see you to your door, it’s up to you. I’m not a monster, you know – we can even have a nice conversation about something other than work.’