Never Look Back

by Lesley Pearse

  Giles opened the door a little wider. ‘That’s true, but I would have preferred to keep it from her while she’s in such a delicate condition,’ he said. ‘She wants me to promise I’ll give up the work.’

  ‘You can’t do that, sir, it’s too important,’ she exclaimed, hearing the sorrow in his voice. ‘So you must be strong and stick to your principles.’

  He didn’t answer for a moment and moved away from the door. She guessed he was checking that Lily wasn’t within earshot.

  ‘I don’t think I can do that, Matty,’ he said when he came back. ‘You see, when Mrs Milson gets a real bee in her bonnet she can make life impossible. It’s lucky in a way you’ve been up here since all this came out. She’s not herself at all.’

  Matty wondered if he meant she was just sulking and crying, or if he thought it was something more insidious. But to her mind Madam needed a firm hand and a good talking to.

  ‘You may have a son this time,’ she said. ‘I don’t think he would like to find out in years to come that his father backed away from something which was right and good because of his mother’s “delicate condition”. Tell her that!’

  ‘Oh Matty,’ he sighed again. ‘I wish I dared, and had the strength of character to go ahead regardless of what she might say. But I’m torn right now, how can I continue with something which distresses her so badly?’

  Matilda didn’t feel she was able to comment on that, she was already smarting because her mistress hadn’t once come in to see her since she’d been ill. Drinks and water to wash in had been left outside the bedroom door, her slop pail was full, and it seemed to her that anyone who treated another sick person like that didn’t deserve any sympathy herself. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell her master that.

  ‘You’ll have to pray for guidance then,’ she said archly.

  ‘Do you think I haven’t?’ he said, a ghost of a smile appearing on his troubled face. ‘Get well soon, Matty, maybe all our troubles will vanish then.’

  On the first day Matilda was able to go downstairs for longer than just to use the privy, she noticed immediately that Tabitha was very listless. Her mother said curtly that it was due to the sultry weather, and said she felt listless too because she’d had to cope with everything herself.

  Matilda was hurt further by this direct reproach but she made up her mind that even if she still felt weak, the next day she would resume her normal duties.

  Lily went out soon after breakfast, making a barbed comment as she left about a mountain of washing waiting to be done, or had she forgotten she was employed as a servant rather than as a minister’s assistant.

  Tabitha sat listlessly in the back yard with her doll all morning, as Matilda sweated over the washing. She showed no interest in trying to help hang out the clothes as she usually did, and she left her midday sandwich untouched. Still feeling weak herself, Matilda laid Tabitha down on the couch in the parlour during the afternoon and sat beside her to read her a story.

  It was Giles who came in first at nearly four, just as Matilda was getting frantic, for Tabitha had begun coughing a little and the tell-tale rash had just appeared behind her ears. He blanched as Matilda told him she thought his daughter had the measles, then asked where his wife was.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Matilda said weakly, struggling not to cry. ‘She just said she was going out. I thought she meant only for a couple of hours.’

  While Giles ran off to get the doctor, Matilda carried the child up to her bedroom, undressed her and put her to bed, and stayed with her. Frightened and all alone in the house, it seemed to her that Tabitha was growing worse by the minute, all she could do was sponge the child’s forehead and try not to think that she was to blame for this.

  Giles, the doctor and Lily all came back together. Matilda learned much later that evening that the two men had found Lily walking along Broadway. All three of them came straight up to the bedroom, but when Dr Kupicha immediately asked Matilda about the onset of the child’s symptoms, Lily ordered her to go downstairs.

  Matilda paced the kitchen floor while she waited, not knowing whether to start preparing the evening meal or not. She had a feeling her mistress would lay into her later, perhaps even dismiss her, but that didn’t matter so much, as long as Tabitha recovered.

  It was only once Dr Kupicha had left, leaving instructions that the curtains must be kept closed in Tabitha’s room, and she must be sponged down every hour and her eyes and ears carefully watched for further infections, that Lily stormed down into the kitchen and viciously turned on Matilda.

  ‘I don’t want you going anywhere near my daughter,’ she said, her small, sharp features contorted with spite. ‘You brought this loathsome disease into the house, and I’ll never forgive you for that.’

  ‘I couldn’t help it, madam,’ Matilda said. ‘I didn’t know Molly had measles. I only did what anyone would have done, gave her a drink and soothed her.’

  ‘You are treacherous,’ Lily yelled at her. ‘I know it was you who persuaded the Reverend to go into those places and dig out children. He’d never have thought of it by himself. I thought you were taking nice little children out to New Jersey, not filthy little beggars. But then I might have known. You were one yourself. Water always finds its own level.’

  ‘It was not my idea,’ Matilda retorted, wondering if the woman had gone mad, and why Giles wasn’t coming down to support her. ‘It was Reverend Kirkbright’s.’

  ‘Don’t you try to wriggle out of it. I know just what you are.’ Lily’s face was purple with rage now and Matilda was afraid she was going to strike her. ‘You’re a scheming, ungrateful little minx, you’ve been plotting with my husband behind my back.’

  ‘Please don’t say such things, madam.’ Matilda began to cry. ‘It’s not true and you are only saying it because you’re so worried about Tabby. Let’s get her better first, then we’ll talk about it.’

  ‘You won’t go near Tabby ever again,’ Lily roared out. ‘I shall nurse her entirely myself, I can’t trust you anywhere near her. God help you if she doesn’t survive, because so help me, I’ll kill you.’

  She ran away then, back upstairs, leaving Matilda shaken to the core.

  It was a few moments before Giles came down, but he had little to comfort her with.

  ‘Don’t take it to heart,’ he said. ‘She’s overwrought and distressed. I’m sure by tomorrow she’ll have calmed down and forgotten it herself.’ He explained then how he and the doctor had found her on Broadway, apparently unaware what time it was. He said she was overtired from doing everything while Matilda was ill, and she wasn’t thinking straight.

  But Matilda couldn’t put it from her mind, in her opinion only a deranged person would say such things. Setting aside the accusation of treachery, plotting with Giles and the snipes at her background, Tabitha could just as easily have picked up the disease at church, or from one of her parents’ friends’ children, and it was unfair to hold her entirely responsible.

  She made a meal nobody wanted to eat, she ironed all the clothes she’d washed that morning, but all the time frightening thoughts kept creeping into her head. If Lily was deranged, and surely she must be to go wandering around the shops all day when she knew her child hadn’t been well that morning, how could she look after Tabitha properly? If it wasn’t for that she might have packed her few belongings and left the house for good, but she couldn’t do so, not without knowing if Tabitha would pull through.

  Matilda’s misery increased ten-fold in the next three days. At night she could hear Tabitha’s harsh, dry cough coming from the next room, and Lily wouldn’t relent and let her in to help. The woman stayed in there constantly, day and night, refusing all food even from her husband, and ignoring Matilda’s pleas from outside the door. All Matilda could do was deal with the slop bucket and soiled linen left outside the closed door and hope that the next time the doctor or Giles went in they might manage to persuade Lily to see sense.

  ‘I’ve tried everything,’ Giles
said wearily late on the third night, as he came down into the kitchen to refill a pitcher with boiled water. ‘Dr Kupicha has tried too, but she won’t listen to either of us, Tabitha is gravely ill, and I don’t believe Mrs Milson’s hysterical manner is helping the situation one bit. But what more can I do, Matty? I can’t demand she comes out of there and insist you take her place.’

  ‘Oh yes you should,’ Matilda said forcefully. ‘If I were in your shoes I’d go in there and drag her out. Tabby’s your child too, sir. You should do what’s best for her, not pussyfoot around when your wife is clearly half out of her mind.’

  ‘That will do, Matilda,’ he shouted back in anger. ‘I won’t have you getting above yourself. Maybe Mrs Milson is right about you. She said today you were intent on taking over this entire house.’

  That was the last straw. She’d supported this man through thick and thin and now, when it suited him, he was agreeing with his crazy wife.

  ‘If that’s what she thinks then I’ll leave,’ she snapped back at him, her eyes blazing. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, Reverend Milson, I’ve loved Tabby like she was my own for over two years. I’d give my life for her. The only reason I didn’t pack my bags after what Mrs bloody Milson said the other night is because I care so much. But don’t you worry, I’ll be gone in the morning and leave you to cope with that mad woman.’

  She ran upstairs then, and left him standing there in the kitchen. Her packing took less than a few minutes, all she had was three dresses, a pair of Sunday shoes, her coat and some underwear. If it hadn’t been so late, she would have left right away, but even in her anger she knew a young girl wandering around at the dead of night was likely to be either accosted by someone, or picked up by the police.

  Instead she read and re-read Flynn’s letter, until her candle burned out. Tomorrow morning she would get the boat to Charleston and look for him. She just hoped the eleven dollars she had saved was enough to get there. He was right after all about the Milsons. She was a fool to think they cared about her, all they cared about was themselves.

  At first light the next morning Matilda got up and dressed, then, lifting her bag, she opened her door gingerly. She had no wish to run into either of her employers, she’d spent most of the night crying and now she felt only bitterness towards them.

  But as she crept out on to the small landing between her room and Tabitha’s she could hear Lily sobbing out prayers and over that the sound of the child’s rasping breath. Any sympathy she had retained for the woman was instantly swept away by a surge of intense anger. She didn’t think her own nursing skills were any greater than her mistress’s, but she did know better than to allow a small sick child to be frightened further by an adult’s distress.

  Standing there on the landing, she resolved that she must step into the room. She was scared to go against Lily’s wishes, but she knew she had no choice. Tabitha’s life was in grave danger, and so, squaring her shoulders, she walked in.

  The scene that met her eyes proved to her she was right to intervene. The darkened room was stifling hot, the smell of vomit overpowering. Tabitha was swaddled in blankets and a thick eiderdown, and her face was wizened like a little monkey’s. Lily was on her knees by the bed, sobbing into the bedcovers, too distraught even to turn her head at the sudden beam of light from the open door and a breath of fresher air.

  Side-stepping the woman, Matilda laid her hand on Tabitha’s forehead. It was fiery hot, and she instinctively knew that if the child wasn’t cooled down immediately she had no chance of survival.

  Tapping Lily on the shoulder, she ordered her to get up. ‘Go and get that mask you use when you have headaches and get some clean towels,’ she added. ‘I’m going to prepare a bath for her.’

  Running back downstairs, she pulled the tin bath right out into the yard and under the pump to fill it with water. The yard seemed a very inappropriate place to bathe a sick child, but speed was more important than concerning herself with propriety.

  She wasn’t really surprised to find Lily was still standing in the sick-room when she returned with neither towels nor mask, clearly the woman had lost all leave of her senses, so, grabbing a petticoat of Tabitha’s from a chair, she hastily wound it into a roll, and pushing past her mistress, tied it securely around the child’s eyes.

  ‘Get the towels if nothing else,’ she snapped as she lifted the child up into her arms. ‘And hurry.’

  As Matilda moved with the child to the door, the woman let out a loud wail and began tugging at the back of her apron. ‘Put her down,’ she shrieked. ‘You are dismissed.’

  ‘I’ll leave when Tabby’s better,’ Matilda retorted through gritted teeth. ‘Just get the towels.’

  As Matilda swept on down the stairs with the child in her arms, Giles came rushing out of the bedroom, still in his nightshirt.

  ‘What’s happened?’ he said in alarm.

  ‘Tabby needs to be cooled down, not prayed and sobbed over,’ Matilda shot at him, not even pausing for one second. ‘And for goodness’ sake stop that woman wailing. That won’t help.’

  Nothing in Matilda’s life had been more painful than to see the blindfolded child she loved so fiercely jerk involuntarily at being submerged in the cold water. It felt so cruel, her whole being wanted to cuddle and comfort her. But she knew it was the only way to save her, and she had to keep her nerve.

  Giles came running out just in time to see what she was doing. ‘Surely not, Matty!’ he exclaimed, his previously flushed face blanching. ‘Cold water!’

  ‘Trust me,’ she implored him. ‘She’s burning up, and it has to be done. Get towels, and some water for her to drink.’

  ‘You’ll feel better soon, Tabby,’ she murmured soothingly to the child as she held her down firmly under the water, soaking her hair. ‘Just a little while and I’ll put you in a clean dry nightgown and then you can go back to bed.’

  After a minute or two of submersion Tabitha stopped jerking, and her breathing became less laboured. Giles came running out of the house again with towels, and she got him to hold one out to wrap the child in.

  ‘All better now,’ she murmured, cuddling her into her arms. ‘Matty’s got you safely.’

  Dr Kupicha arrived an hour later, summoned by Giles who had run the whole way to his house and breathlessly described what had happened, but by the time the two men got back to State Street, Matilda had Tabitha back in a clean, dry bed, the window open to let in air, and the child was sleeping.

  ‘You did well, Matty,’ Dr Kupicha said as he examined the patient. ‘The crisis has passed now, and as long as no secondary infection sets in, I think she’ll make it.’

  ‘How is Mrs Milson?’ Matilda asked. She hadn’t seen her since she rushed down the stairs with Tabitha and until now she hadn’t given her a moment’s thought. But she was so relieved that Tabitha was out of danger she could even bring herself to feel some concern for the woman. ‘She said I was dismissed, but I said I was only going once Tabitha was better.’

  Dr Kupicha half smiled. In his private opinion Lily Milson was a sad case, a woman so full of anxiety that she could easily slip over the edge into madness. ‘I don’t think you can take any notice of something said in the heat of the moment,’ he said. ‘Reverend Milson has put her to bed, and I suggest you both encourage her to stay there for a day or two as she is utterly exhausted. I’m sure I can count on you to look after Tabitha.’

  ‘Of course, I love her,’ she said.

  The doctor thought that statement summed up the essence of this young nursemaid’s character. She was guided by her heart, and it was a great deal larger than most. She deserved a life of her own, children of her own, yet somehow he sensed she would always be helping others to attain their dreams, putting her own on permanent hold.

  ‘I’ll pop in to see my little patient again tonight,’ he said, as he got up to leave. ‘You undoubtedly saved the little one’s life today, and I am going to tell Mrs Milson as much, but just remember, Matty, you have a life
of your own too, and it isn’t necessarily here in this house, with this child.’

  Matilda followed him out on to the landing. ‘How are Molly and the other children?’

  His face clouded over. ‘Molly died yesterday,’ he said. ‘We may lose Ruth too, I fear. But there are no new cases, Pearl and Peter are in robust health. I think we are over the worst of it now.’

  Matilda’s eyes filled with tears. It seemed so tragic that the two little girls had been rescued from hell, only to die less than a year later from a common childhood disease.

  ‘Matty!’

  Matilda had fallen asleep in a chair beside the child’s bed, but at the sound of the weak little voice she woke with a start.

  ‘Is it morning yet?’ Tabitha asked as Matilda bent over her.

  Such a question suggested Tabitha was on the mend because her father had said she hadn’t been aware of day or night since becoming ill. Matilda pulled back the thick curtains a crack, and saw the sun was just coming up.

  ‘Yes, it’s morning, but still very early,’ she said, putting her hand on Tabitha’s forehead. It felt naturally warm and moist, yesterday’s fever had gone. Her dark eyes were wide open and there was no matter coming from them. ‘How are you feeling, my darling?’

  ‘Thirsty,’ she said. ‘And I want to tinkle.’

  Nothing had ever sounded so sweet to Matilda. If it hadn’t been quite so early she might have been tempted to rush downstairs to wake the Milsons and give them the good news. She lifted the little girl out of bed and sat her on the chamber-pot, then poured a glass of water from the pitcher.

  ‘I can hold it, I’m not a baby,’ Tabitha reproached her as Matilda held it to her lips, and her small hands grasped the glass firmly and drank deeply.

  Matilda tidied the bed, shook the pillows, then lifted Tabitha back in.

  ‘Do you think you could eat something?’ she asked, astounded that the cough seemed to have gone too.

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, frowning as if confused. ‘Why were you in that chair?’