by Kate Eastham
Catching up with Nurse Latimer at the top of the ward, Maud tried to thank her for the work that she’d done and mentioned the careful recording on Mrs Martin’s chart. The probationer barely smiled and, as ever, offered nothing back. It really was very infuriating.
‘Could you please make sure to offer her regular sips of water from a spouted cup when she starts to come round? And then once she’s more awake, maybe a teaspoon of brandy or some wine might help her to recover.’
Nurse Latimer nodded and set off down the ward.
At visiting, a small woman with a quick, anxious manner bustled over to Mrs Martin’s bed. Maud spotted her straight away and knew that it must be the neighbour, Mrs McCluskey.
‘Oh, Nurse, however is she?’ frowned the woman. ‘I thought she was going to die there, in her bed, at home. I truly did.’
‘Well, she needed to have surgery and we removed a large cyst from her abdomen.’
Mrs McCluskey gasped and took hold of her friend’s hand. ‘Oh, Freda, what have they done to you,’ she wailed.
‘If we hadn’t done the surgery, she would not have survived.’
‘Oh my goodness. Is she going to be all right?’ clucked Mrs McCluskey.
‘So far so good,’ smiled Maud. ‘It’s early days yet, and she’s still sleeping off the chloroform, but by tomorrow she should be sitting up in bed and feeling much better.’
Mrs McCluskey pressed a hand to her heart. ‘Oh, God love her, she’s not had an easy life. What with her husband dying, years ago, and then losing all those babies.’
Maud gave her a questioning look.
‘She always wanted children did Freda. As soon as she moved in as a young wife, she always wanted them. And we both got caught about the same time, but when we were about four months, she came to me and said that she’d miscarried the child. I’ll never forget how she cried that day, and I tried to comfort her, but she was beside herself. So I said, “Never you mind, Freda, this one wasn’t meant to be, but there’ll be others, you’re a healthy young woman, there’ll be others.” And come the next year, she was with child again, but then she miscarried. And, do you know, every year until her husband died, it was the same story. Ten babies she lost in all. Ten. And I don’t know how she did it but she mourned each and every one of them, and then she got on and kept herself busy by helping out with other people’s children. She used to say to me, “Let me look after yours,” if I was struggling, or she’d take a sick child from a mother who was needing to go out to work or help the poor waifs and strays off the street. She even started helping out the local midwife, and then she was able to deliver babies herself. But, poor Freda, she never did have any of her own.’
Maud had to blink hard to stop tears welling up.
‘Well, at least she’s got a good neighbour like you,’ she said, mustering a smile. ‘And don’t you worry, we’ll look after her here on the ward.’
‘You have to, Nurse,’ smiled Mrs McCluskey. ‘She’s a woman who does good works.’
Maud asked permission to go along to Male Surgical at visiting to check on Mr Langer and was pleased to find him sitting up in bed, with his wife and children around him. Little Martha had snuggled herself up on to his bed and he was even managing to sing a song to her. She waved to the family as she walked by and then went to find Nurse Devlin.
‘I did Mr Langer’s dressing today, all by myself.’ Nurse Devlin beamed, the smile reaching her wide grey eyes.
‘Well done,’ said Maud. ‘Did you notice any signs of granulation?’
‘Well, Sister Law scared the living daylights out of me by coming up behind and asking the very same question. And I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she explained and then she pointed out the small red lumps of first healing. So, yes, there are signs of granu—’
‘Granulation,’ repeated Maud.
‘That’s the one, and it shows the wound is healing,’ smiled Nurse Devlin. ‘I was wondering, Nurse Linklater – and I need to ask Sister first – but if I get any time, please could I come along to Female Surgical and ask you some questions about surgical nursing?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Maud, warmly. ‘And if you don’t get time, I can meet up with you in the Nurses’ Home, if you like.’
‘Oh, that would be just grand,’ beamed Nurse Devlin.
As Maud left the hospital that evening, despite the jangled start that she’d had to the day, she felt a real sense of satisfaction. She was even looking forward to having her evening meal with the other nurses in the dining room. And then she would have time to use her sewing machine. She’d spoken to Dolly, the laundress, about the bandages, when she’d gone in for her new uniform. Dolly had promised to leave a supply of muslin and cotton outside her room so that, tonight, she could make a proper start on the sewing.
She didn’t really care any more that Millicent Langtry had the room just across from her on the opposite gallery – or whether she knew, or didn’t know, about Nancy and the baby and Harry. If she already knew then there wasn’t any way of untelling her and, instinctively, she knew that Miss Houston – and probably the Misses Merryweather – would support her. So there was little that she could do, except manage the consequences, if any information leaked to the wrong person. Having said that, she was now separated from her husband. She was, in fact, a single woman, once again. So what would it matter anyway?
Her thoughts were interrupted by raised voices further along the path and Maud saw Nurse Devlin in tears, with someone who looked like Nurse Latimer beside her. Maud was straight there between them and, turning to Nurse Latimer, asked icily, ‘What is the meaning of this?’
Nurse Devlin started to cry even more. Alice had arrived by now and was there, with her arm around her, trying to comfort the probationer.
‘Nurse Latimer, I need to know the meaning of this right now, or I will have no choice but to go straight to Miss Merryweather,’ threatened Maud.
Nurse Latimer stood sullen and silent, with her head bowed.
‘No,’ sobbed Nurse Devlin. ‘No. It’s not her, she hasn’t done anything. I’m crying because she said she’s going to leave the hospital and I don’t want her to.’
‘What?’ frowned Maud, switching her gaze to Nurse Devlin. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well,’ sniffed Rose, ‘I don’t want Violet to leave. I’ve been trying to help her deal with something bad, but she’s feeling threatened again. And it isn’t safe for her to be living anywhere else.’
Nurse Latimer was trembling now and she had started crying, too.
‘I think we’d all better go to the Nurses’ Home,’ said Maud, ‘and try to sort this out.’
‘What’s up?’ called Eddy, marching in their direction with her district nurse’s bag in her hand.
‘An issue with these two probationers,’ explained Maud, still reeling from Rose’s revelation, as she walked briskly, with them behind her and Alice bringing up the rear. Eddy watched the women as they walked by, and then she stepped into line and linked arms with Alice.
Once the whole party were up the steps and in through the entrance of the Nurses’ Home, Violet Latimer started to sob even louder and Rose put an arm around her shoulders. Immediately, the door to Miss Merryweather’s room clicked open and the superintendent emerged, closely followed by her sister, Elizabeth.
‘Whatever is going on?’ demanded Miss Merryweather, her sharp tone mitigated by the concern in her eyes and the way she went immediately to the sobbing probationer and put a hand on her arm.
‘Come on, all of you,’ she said, looking around the group, ‘into the visitors’ room.’
The whole party, including Eddy, trooped in and sat in a circle on the straight-backed chairs that lined the room. Maud had never been in there before; it still smelt and looked brand new, and the seats were stiff and uncomfortable.
Miss Merryweather adjusted her bonnet and motioned for her sister to be seated whilst she continued to stand in the centre of the room, moving her steely gaz
e around to take in all of the assembled nurses. Violet was still sobbing and Eddy, sitting next to her, had passed her a large handkerchief.
‘Now can someone tell me exactly what is going on here?’ asked Miss Merryweather, firmly.
Neither of the probationers said a word. Therefore, Maud, sitting straight-backed in her chair, with her hands folded on her lap, spoke first and gave the details of what she had witnessed on the path.
‘I see,’ said Miss Merryweather, looking in the direction of Nurse Devlin, who repeated the explanation that she’d offered to Maud. She then added that she knew what Nurse Latimer’s issue was, but it wasn’t hers to tell.
‘I see,’ said Miss Merryweather again, gazing across to where Violet sat, with her head bowed. ‘Nurse Latimer,’ she said, her voice gentler now, ‘are you able to tell us what your issue is? I can guarantee that anything you tell us now, in this room, will go no further. Are we agreed, Nurses?’
‘Agreed,’ murmured all of the voices in the room.
Eddy put an arm around Violet’s shoulders. ‘Come on, then,’ she urged, ‘don’t keep it all to yourself. We might be able to help. All of us need help at some time in our lives, and I think you’ll find that women help other women, and nurses help other nurses.’
Violet wiped her nose with Eddy’s handkerchief and then she looked up, her red-rimmed eyes flitting around the room. She tried to speak but the words wouldn’t come out, even when Eddy gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze.
Then Eddy murmured a few words in Violet’s ear. She seemed to think about it for a few moments and then straightened up in her chair and started to speak shakily, her voice ragged from crying. ‘I need to leave the hospital because someone knows where I am. I’ve seen this person outside the Nurses’ Home and I daren’t stay here any longer. All the weeks since I started my training, I’ve been worried that this would happen. And now it has. So I have to go.’
‘Who is this person?’ asked Miss Merryweather gently, her eyes full of concern.
Violet tried to speak once more but the words seemed strangled back in her throat. She went red in the face and then she was sobbing again.
Rose, who was sitting next to her, took her hand. ‘Shall I tell them who it is and what he’s done?’ she whispered.
Violet glanced at her and then nodded, wiping her eyes again with Eddy’s hankie.
Rose cleared her throat. ‘It’s her stepfather, and he has threatened to kill her so that she won’t tell the police what he’s done.’ Rose cleared her throat again. ‘Ever since her mother died when she was sixteen … he has been coming into her bed.’
A collective murmur of outrage and sympathy moved through the room.
Violet started to cry again and Rose squeezed her hand. ‘And that’s why, as soon as she was old enough, she took the money that her mother had left her and ran away to Liverpool. She came here to the Nurses’ Home because she’d heard that it was a safe place and kept strictly for women.’
Violet was crying even harder now and Eddy was hugging her and saying, ‘There, there, don’t you worry, none of this is your fault.’
‘And you came to the right place,’ said Miss Merryweather, her voice clear and determined. ‘You are safe here. I will deal with your stepfather, the next time he shows up, and I will tell him that if I so much as catch a glimpse of him again outside our Nurses’ Home, I will go straight to the police myself. None of the women under my care will be threatened by any man.’
Miss Merryweather pressed her lips together and her eyes burned as she glanced around the room. There was a murmur of approval from all the nurses and Miss Elizabeth adjusted the leather gloves that she always wore, got up from her seat and walked straight over to Violet. ‘Come on, come with me,’ she said gently, taking her hand, and gesturing for Rose to follow. She quietly left the room, with both girls in tow.
‘Thank you, Nurses,’ nodded Miss Merryweather, to those left in the room. ‘My heart is full of pride for all that you are and all that you do.’
Maud and Eddy and Alice were in tears themselves now and they got up and clustered around the superintendent as she patted each of them on the arm, dabbing at her eyes with her other hand. ‘And I was on the point of dismissing the girl for lack of engagement and lack of interest in her nursing,’ she murmured. ‘We never know what’s going on beneath the surface, do we? We should be more aware.’
‘I felt the same after working with her on the ward,’ confessed Maud.
‘And me,’ said Alice. ‘It would have been terrible if we had dismissed her, though. I can’t even think about what might have happened at the hands of that man.’
‘I think her friend, Nurse Devlin, would have spoken up,’ said Miss Merryweather, quietly. ‘We shouldn’t perhaps be too hard on ourselves, after all. Sometimes we can only judge on what we see.’
Maud, Alice and Eddy were all murmuring a response when they heard the front door slam open and a man’s voice screaming, ‘Help, help!’
‘What the—?’ shouted Eddy.
Maud led the way, running at full pelt into the entrance hall. She knew that voice. ‘Harry?’ she shouted, seeing him there, his eyes wide, gasping for breath, with a tiny baby in his arms.
‘It’s Flora! She’s not breathing!’ he screamed, clinging on to the baby, desperately scanning her tiny face.
Maud’s heart was thudding in her chest, she never thought she’d have to see this child up close again. But she saw right away that the baby was pale, and her lips had a tinge of blue. Maud was ready to help in any way that she could. ‘Give her to me,’ she said, firmly. ‘We need to examine her.’
Harry handed her over and then gave a huge sob and fell to his knees on the coloured tiles of the entrance, clinging to his dog. Eddy moved to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.
Maud tipped her head towards the baby’s face. She could feel gentle breath that seemed not much more than the beating of a butterfly wing. ‘She’s definitely breathing!’ she called. ‘But only just, and she’s very poorly.’
Harry glanced up and then he broke into another sob.
Miss Merryweather was already giving directions. ‘Nurse Sampson, I need you to go back to the hospital. Run! Find Dr McKendrick and bring him straight here. If he isn’t on the wards, he’ll be up in Miss Houston’s office.’
Alice nodded and neatly sidestepped Harry, before running out of the door.
‘Bring the baby into my office, Nurse Linklater,’ the superintendent said, marching towards the door, with Maud and Eddy following. ‘Place her down there, on the chaise longue,’ she ordered. ‘Remove that shawl and her clothes, down to the napkin. It’s warm enough in here with the fire. I’ll turn up this lamp and bring it over so we can have the best light.’
Maud felt the heat of the baby’s body as she removed her miniature nightie and then the tiny woollen vest that lay against her skin. The napkin was damp, but not saturated, so she left it in place, as instructed.
Flora’s body was limp, her breathing rapid and shallow, and although her eyes were closed she didn’t look like a sleeping baby. Apart from the steady rasp of her breath, she was completely quiet.
Maud heard the low whine of Harry’s dog and she could hear him still weeping outside the door. She felt a stab of pity but it was completely lost amidst her anxiety for the baby.
‘Her fontanelle feels slightly sunken,’ murmured Miss Merryweather, running a gentle hand over the small black head of hair as she leant over the baby.
‘What does that mean?’ whispered Maud, tears stinging her eyes now that she could see how very poorly the little scrap of life that was Harry’s daughter actually looked.
‘It means that she might be dehydrated, that she might not have been taking her feeds.’
Maud could hear her own heartbeat as she knelt beside the baby.
‘We need to wait for Dr McKendrick’s assessment,’ continued Miss Merryweather. ‘But by the way she is breathing, I think the baby may well have pneumonia
. One of you go out there to the father. I’m assuming he is the father, this friend of yours, Nurse Linklater? Go and ask him exactly what has happened. And tell him he needs to put that dog outside.’
‘I’ll go,’ volunteered Eddy, placing a hand on Maud’s shoulder.
Maud watched Flora like a hawk, willing her to keep breathing. Seeing her tiny hand, with the fingers splayed, she stroked the back of it with her forefinger and then she grasped it between her finger and thumb. With her other hand she gently stroked the baby’s cheek, desperately whispering words of comfort.
Eddy was back in through the door. ‘Harry, the father, says she was crying and unsettled all day yesterday. And she didn’t take her feeds that well this morning. She vomited this afternoon but he managed to get some spoonfuls of sugar water inside her. And then her breathing seemed to change, and about half an hour ago he thought that she’d stopped breathing. So he picked her up and ran here.’
‘But what about the mother?’ frowned Miss Merryweather. ‘This baby is only weeks old, where is the mother?’
‘Apparently, she left last night. Packed a bag, walked out of the door and didn’t come back.’
Maud twisted round to glance at Eddy, then she swallowed hard as the painful lump that she’d been trying to subdue fought its way back into her throat.
‘Highly irregular,’ tutted Miss Merryweather. ‘But this man must be a good father – doing what he’s done and bringing her here. What’s the baby’s name?’
‘Flora, she’s called Flora,’ said Maud.
‘Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,’ murmured Miss Merryweather, leaning over Maud’s shoulder again to have a closer look.
Maud blinked back her tears. She didn’t want to see Harry, she truly believed that she felt nothing for him now. But she knew already, especially since she’d learnt that Nancy had walked out, that this tiny baby, clinging to life, was a very special little girl indeed.
