by Evie Grace
Contents
Acknowledgements
Chapter One: White Aprons, Collars and Cuffs
Chapter Two: The Margate Hoy
Chapter Three: A Place for Everything and Everything in its Place
Chapter Four: If in Doubt, Cut it Out
Chapter Five: Kill or Cure
Chapter Six: What’s Sauce for the Goose is Sauce for the Gander
Chapter Seven: The Parade of the Animals
Chapter Eight: A Bitter Pill to Swallow
Chapter Nine: The Hall by the Sea
Chapter Ten: Hokey-Pokey
Chapter Eleven: Counting the Pennies
Chapter Twelve: The Summer Fête
Chapter Thirteen: The Powers that Be
Chapter Fourteen: When the Remedy is Worse than the Disease
Chapter Fifteen: The Circus
Chapter Sixteen: The Rules of the House
Chapter Seventeen: The Shell Grotto
Chapter Eighteen: An Ounce of Prevention is Better than a Pound of Cure
Chapter Nineteen: A Dose of Godfrey’s Cordial
Chapter Twenty: On the Side of the Angels
Chapter Twenty-One: Enough to Make the Angels Weep
Chapter Twenty-Two: Fools Rush in where Angels Fear to Tread
Chapter Twenty-Three: On the Horns of a Dilemma
Chapter Twenty-Four: More Than Anything in the World
Chapter Twenty-Five: Trust Me, I’m a Doctor
About the Author
Evie Grace was born in Kent, and one of her earliest memories is of picking cherries with her grandfather who managed a fruit farm near Selling. Holidays spent with her family in the Kent countryside and daytrips to the seaside town of Margate, inspired her to write Hannah’s story.
She loves reading about the Victorian era, and her research for The Seaside Angel included the history of using leeches in medicine and the invention of the bathing machine.
Evie now lives in deepest, darkest Devon with her partner. She has a son and daughter.
Also by Evie Grace
A Thimbleful of Hope
Maids of Kent Trilogy
Half a Sixpence
Her Mother’s Daughter
A Place to Call Home
To Laura
Acknowledgements
I should like to thank Laura and everyone at MBA Literary Agents, and Cass and the team at Penguin Random House UK for their continuing enthusiasm and support.
Chapter One
White Aprons, Collars and Cuffs
London, May 1884
‘How are you today, Davy?’ Hannah asked the boy who was sitting up in his cot. He was playing with a tin toy train that one of the lady volunteers had brought into the ward the day before.
‘Much better, Nurse.’ He looked up with a toothy smile on his face. He was nine, quite scrawny for his age, but he had an air of toughness about him.
‘I believe the doctor has said you can go home today.’
His expression changed. ‘I don’t wanna go ’ome.’
‘Your ma and sister will be pleased to have you back.’
‘I don’t think so – Ma says she’s goin’ to give me a good ’idin’ for what I done.’
‘I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She was upset.’
‘I was nearly a goner,’ he said earnestly.
‘At least you’ve learned your lesson – don’t eat things when you don’t know what they are.’
‘I thought it was treacle. It looked like treacle and tasted like it too.’
‘Never mind. I’m glad you’re well again. That’s all that matters.’ When he’d been admitted a few days before, Davy had been suffering from delirium, shouting out and screaming, his eyes flicking from side to side, having consumed deadly nightshade mixed as a physic for horses.
Hannah turned to her next patient, a boy of eleven who was lying on his side in the adjacent cot. He’d had a stroke after being struck down with scarlet fever two months before.
‘Good morning, Joe.’ She reached for his uppermost hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He squeezed back. ‘Let me sit you up so you can see what’s going on. Nurse Huckstep …’ She looked past the nature table of greenery and pebbles, to where Alice, wearing a dark dress like hers, with a white apron, collar and cuffs, and with her blonde hair tucked neatly beneath her cap, was changing the sheets on an empty bed.
‘You wish to move this patient, Nurse Bentley?’ Alice stepped quickly across the ward to help her roll Joe on to his back before sitting him up, arranging the pillows to hold him in position.
‘One more.’ Alice picked up a bolster, and Hannah lifted Joe’s limp arm to let her slide it underneath. ‘Thank you.’ The corners of Alice’s bright blue eyes creased as she smiled. ‘We make a good team.’
‘The best.’ They’d been friends since arriving at the Hospital for Sick Children to begin their training as lady probationers two years previously. Hannah had been eighteen at the time, and Alice twenty-one.
‘There you are.’ Hannah lowered Joe’s arm on to the pillow. ‘Would you like something to drink? Perhaps some beer?’
Joe smiled and nodded his head.
‘Did you take your cod liver oil?’ Alice asked, at which he frowned.
‘You did, didn’t you?’ Hannah said. ‘I gave it to you yesterday evening and you had extra sugared toast for being a good boy.’ Joe didn’t respond this time and she followed his gaze towards the entrance to the ward where Sister – they called her the General behind her back – was standing with her hands on her hips.
‘Nurse Bentley, you’re to go to the lady superintendent’s office forthwith. Immediately!’ she added when Hannah hesitated. ‘Today, not tomorrow. One mustn’t keep Miss Russell waiting.’
‘What is it about?’ Hannah asked tentatively.
‘I don’t know – I’m merely the messenger. Hurry along!’
‘Yes, Sister.’ Hannah glanced towards Alice who mouthed, ‘Good luck.’
What had she done, or – just as likely – forgotten to do? She hurried along the corridors, aware of the prickly scent of carbolic mingling with the smell of overcooked cabbage from the hospital kitchens, and the sound of chatter, the thin wail of an ailing infant and a mother singing a lullaby.
Once outside the office, Hannah took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
‘Do come in.’ The lady super’s mellifluous tone was deceptive, reminding Hannah of the first line of a poem she sometimes told the children: Will you walk into my parlour? said the spider to the fly. They had crossed swords on many occasions: she had broken a thermometer; miscalculated the amount of medicine required to mix into a poultice; told one of the surgeons that she was a nurse, not his maid. Miss Russell had hauled her over the coals for the last, saying that although Hannah had expressed the sentiments shared by others, she should have bitten her tongue.
She pushed the door open and Miss Russell looked up from her desk, the furrows in her brow deepening, the careworn lines on her face the result perhaps of the burden of running the hospital and managing everyone within it.
‘Nurse Bentley, take a seat.’ She smiled – she actually smiled – and Hannah felt a little better about being summoned from the ward. She fiddled with her cuffs, glad that she had changed them for a freshly laundered pair. Having overslept that morning, she’d put her copper-red hair up in a bun without bothering with hairpins, and long ringlets were escaping from under her cap.
‘This won’t take long,’ Miss Russell went on. ‘Mrs Knowles, Matron at the Royal Sea Bathing Infirmary in Margate, is looking for staff – I recommended you to her, and she’s keen to take you on. What do you think?’
‘You want me to go to Margate, ma’am?’ Hannah said, surprised at the turn of e
vents. She liked living in London; loved the hospital and had friends here, Alice especially.
‘The infirmary is well thought of and there are opportunities for advancement. At your interview, you told me in no uncertain terms of the extent of your ambition. You were forward and rather presumptuous considering you’d had no experience on the wards, but I put that down to your youth and family situation.’
It had been difficult, Hannah recalled.
She’d been about to turn eighteen, and her stepmother had been preparing her to attend her first ball which was being held at a country house near Faversham. On the evening before the great event and having enjoyed a final lesson with her dance master, Hannah had hurried to join her father who had called her to his study.
‘You’re late,’ he observed as she entered his den.
By a minute, she thought, glancing at the marble clock on his desk. His mane of red hair was tousled and his face scarlet, as though he’d partaken of a drop too much of madeira before dinner.
‘Sit down.’
‘Thank you, Pa.’ She took the seat opposite him and waited for him to speak.
‘I understand that you had a dress fitting earlier this week – I’ll be awaiting the dressmaker’s bill with interest and a little trepidation.’ His smile didn’t reach his eyes – it never did. He was an actuary who had been promoted to top-hat at the Canterbury agency of the Wessex Union fire office, an expert in statistics, life expectancy and losses, a highly intelligent man who could make money, but had no idea how to inspire happiness in those around him. He’d made Cook cry again that morning because the cream for his coffee had been on the turn, and she’d been unable to supply an immediate replacement.
‘I’ll keep this brief,’ he went on eventually. ‘I have excellent news that will be of great delight and satisfaction to you. I’ve secured you an offer—’
‘I beg your pardon,’ Hannah interrupted, a pulse of doubt beginning to throb at her temple.
‘Of marriage. To my dear friend, Mr Edison. Why do you stare at me like that? He’s no stranger to our family.’ Pa’s elderly and widowed acquaintance had been invited to the house in Dane John many times, and as Hannah had grown older, she’d come to dread his presence at dinner. Recoiling at the memory of the wiry touch of his whiskers against her cheek as he’d pressed up against her on the staircase, she shuddered.
She’d always known that one day she would marry, but not Mr Edison with his pale, pink-rimmed eyes, white hair and long, claw-like fingernails.
‘You could express at least an ounce of gratitude. You caught his eye some time ago and he’s been patient, waiting for you to come of age. He’s a decent man, a gentleman.’
‘He’s very old, Pa …’
‘A significant age gap makes for a better marriage,’ her father said. ‘A younger woman has an endearing naivety about her which makes her more likely to acquiesce to her husband’s wishes when it comes to her manners, mode of dress and friendships. She’s easier to command and mould into the perfect wife and mother.’
As he’d done with her dear Ma before she’d been cruelly snatched away from them? Hannah wondered.
‘I don’t want a husband – I don’t want to be married.’
‘There’s a poem by Coventry Patmore which sums up the balance of the sexes in a nutshell. Man must be pleased; but him to please / Is woman’s pleasure … I can’t quote the rest – it’s completely slipped my mind, but that is the essence of it.’
‘Stepmother doesn’t seem to find pleasure in pleasing you,’ Hannah blurted out.
Pa frowned. ‘I’d suggest that you think twice about challenging your father. Suffice to say, the values I hold have been the foundation of society for many generations. They’ve served us well, and I don’t see any reason to change them now. A man’s role is to provide for his wife and family, something Mr Edison is more than capable of. A man requires purpose, the acquisition of wealth, while a woman should be content to stay at home, spending his money to make it a haven of tranquillity.
‘Your stepmother needs reminding of her duty sometimes. Anyway, I’m talking about your future. May I remind you that it’s your destiny to marry well – there’s no getting away from it.’
Glancing towards the window, Hannah noticed a few raindrops glittering against the darkness outside. She felt trapped, hardly able to breathe.
‘May I remind you that you’re a very ordinary woman with the prettiness that comes with youth and fades soon after. You’ll never receive a better offer, so I suggest you accept Mr Edison as your husband – willingly.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Oh, you will. I can’t see you giving up your comforts for a life on the streets.’
‘I shall go out to work,’ she said, shocked at her father’s suggestion.
‘You aren’t going to work for your living. I absolutely forbid it. Labour of any kind cuts women off from their family and social circle. What’s more, it makes them appear masculine and coarse.’
She wasn’t sure that she believed him – Cook, their maid and the private nurse who had attended to the twins all looked perfectly feminine. She wondered if it had more to do with making Pa look less of a man.
‘Your obligation is to care for your husband and bring up the children of the household. That is what the female brain is uniquely suited to, being inferior to a man’s in every way, apart from their instinct for understanding an infant’s needs and their generosity in satisfying their husband’s demands.
‘What would it look like? That I couldn’t afford to keep my daughters in the manner to which they’ve become accustomed? That I cared so little for them that they turned their back on me? Hannah, a woman is only forced to work when she can’t find a husband to support her.’ He stood up. ‘What on earth would you do anyway?’
She hadn’t had to consider finding a suitable occupation before, but the choice seemed obvious. ‘I’d be a nurse.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous – there’s no way I’d let you follow in that Nightingale woman’s footsteps.’
‘The work she’s done has been nothing short of miraculous – I’ve read about her.’
‘Nursing is best left to the lower classes, as it’s always been. You would hate it.’
‘You find great satisfaction in your work,’ she countered. ‘Isn’t it reasonable that a woman should find the same?’
‘You’re beginning to sound like your mother, expressing these delusions and irrational thoughts.’ Her father rested his hands on the desk and leaned across it until she could see the bloodshot whites of his eyes and the spittle on his lips. ‘This discussion is irrelevant, and a waste of my precious time. You will not insult my name by taking paid occupation, or embarrass me by turning down Mr Edison.’
‘I won’t have anything to do with him.’
‘Then I will have you horsewhipped to within an inch of your life! You will marry my friend. Is that clear?’
‘Perfectly,’ she snapped, getting up and straightening her heavy skirts, before rushing away in a fit of fury and resentment. Upstairs in her room, she pulled out her case and hatboxes from under the bed and opened her trunk. She started packing her belongings before realising that she could never carry it all by herself.
‘Where are you going?’ she heard Ruby ask as she sat on the rug, wondering what to do.
‘Grandma’s, if she’ll have me,’ she said through a flood of tears. ‘I’m sorry – I can’t stay here any longer.’
‘Why? You’re supposed to be going to the ball tomorrow. What’s happened?’
‘Pa has told me that I must marry Mr Edison. It’s impossible. It makes me sick to think of it.’
‘Oh dear. Cook calls him a lecherous snake.’
‘Ruby!’ Aghast at her sister’s frankness, she looked up.
‘Shall I speak to Stepmother on your behalf?’ Ruby’s eyes were dark and beseeching. ‘I can explain that you aren’t happy with our father’s choice.’
‘It will m
ake no difference. Pa’s mind is made up, and besides, when has he ever taken notice of his wife?’
‘Perhaps he would agree on you settling for somebody else, a gentleman nearer your age, and of a fairer countenance?’
‘Ruby, I shall never marry anyone. I’ve seen and heard enough to know that marriage is more a bed of thorns than roses. But I don’t know what to do because Pa says he’ll have me whipped if I disobey him – I have to get away from here.’
‘How will you survive?’
‘I’ll work for my living – as a nurse who cares for children.’
‘That’s a noble sentiment, if ever there was one.’ Ruby frowned.
‘It isn’t a sentiment. I intend to act upon it.’
Ruby plunged to her knees on the rug, her skirts billowing out around her as she flung her arms around Hannah’s neck. ‘Please, don’t go. Don’t leave me with Pa and Stepmother.’
‘I’ll write every day, or as often as I can,’ Hannah said, extricating herself from her embrace. ‘You can visit me too – Grandma isn’t far away.’
‘It won’t be the same. You’ll forget about me.’ Ruby started sobbing.
‘Don’t be silly. Of course I won’t. You’re my sister, my best and only friend.’
It was true that they were very close, kept isolated from society except when Pa had dinner guests, or Stepmother decided she wished to show them off: Hannah for her reading voice, and Ruby for her beauty and doll-like appearance with her long, dark hair and full lips.
She kissed the top of Ruby’s head, her heart breaking at the thought of leaving her behind.
‘I wish I could take you with me, but I can’t until I start earning enough money to support the two of us. I promise I’ll send for you as soon as I can. You know how much I love you, and if you’re ever in any danger, you must come and find me straight away.’ Hannah was afraid for a moment that Pa might press Mr Edison’s suit upon her sister, until she remembered that Ruby was only fifteen.
