The Seaside Angel

by Evie Grace

  She was still worrying about her sister when she and Nurse Finch took their places in the dining hall later.

  ‘Ignore Trimmie,’ Nurse Finch said. ‘Matron told her that you were coming here highly recommended, and she’s afraid that you’ll be favoured over her. My name’s Charlotte, by the way.’

  ‘I’m Hannah. Thank you for looking after me. It all feels rather strange after London. I’m sorry about Sister Trim – I have no intention of treading on her toes.’

  ‘She has her eye on the prize: the position of matron one day,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘Mrs Knowles didn’t give me the impression that she was planning her retirement.’

  ‘Well, Trimmie has expectations, whereas I would hate to be in Matron’s shoes – she always seems to be stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea. If she isn’t fighting a running battle with the doctors, she’s under siege from Mr Cumberpatch, the superintendent, who’s in charge of maintenance. As you may have noticed, there’s been a lot of building work over the past two or three years, although we still haven’t got a purpose-built nurses’ home. Never mind, the house that the infirmary rents for us is only a short walk away.’

  ‘How long have you been working here?’ Hannah asked as they tucked into their mutton, peas, carrots and bread, served with part of their daily ration of ale.

  ‘Five years – I was twenty-three when I started nursing. Before that, I was engaged to be married, but the man – he was no gentleman – in question jilted me three days before the wedding.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Hannah said quickly.

  ‘Don’t be. I was distraught at the time, because I really did believe that I loved him, and he felt the same about me, but I reckon I had a lucky escape, because a year later, he eloped with my younger sister. I was shamed and humiliated by my own flesh and blood. Imagine that!’

  ‘I can’t.’ Hannah was shocked, thinking of Ruby’s letter and the concern she felt for her. ‘Why would a sister do such a thing?’

  ‘I think she was jealous of my good fortune and set out to seduce him. Anyway, I’ve never asked her – we haven’t spoken since. After that, I needed occupation and an income, not wishing to impose on my parents any longer – my father is a bookseller who retired through ill health. To that end, I spent three months volunteering here before applying for a place on the wards. Anyway, that’s enough about me. What about you?’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Don’t tell me you became a nurse for the money.’

  ‘Everyone knows we work for nothing in return but God’s favour.’ Hannah smiled back. ‘No, I ran away from home to escape my father and the threat of a forced marriage to a man who was more than twice my age.’

  ‘Then it’s my turn to be sorry for being flippant.’

  ‘I turned to nursing because it was the only respectable occupation I could think of, having met a private nurse, an admirable woman who was taken on to care for my half-brothers when they had scarlet fever.’ She lowered her voice. ‘One of them – Theo – was taken up by the angels, but Christopher survived. I thought I could care for children like them and earn a decent living at the same time, enough to rent a small house and bring my sister to live with me, but it turns out that one can only do that when one’s been appointed to manage a ward.’

  ‘It’s a shame, but that’s the way it is. Marriage is the only other way out of this life of drudgery.’ Hannah wasn’t sure if Charlotte was being serious. ‘It’s all that I ever wanted until my fiancé broke my heart. I’m not sure I could go through with it again.’

  ‘I intend to hold on to my independence to my last breath,’ Hannah said. ‘I’ve seen the way my father has mistreated my stepmother and kept a tight hold on the purse-strings. He’s been violent to her, too, and she has no redress.’

  ‘You mean he beats her?’

  ‘He’s hurt her,’ Hannah responded.

  It had started not long after Theo had passed away. She and Ruby had been upstairs in their room when they’d heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass, followed by an eerie silence. Hannah had stared at her sister as the shouting began.

  ‘You are my wife, my property, and you’d do well to remember it! Get out of my sight before I do you an injury.’

  ‘You hit me,’ Stepmother had cried.

  ‘I did nothing of the sort. You walked into the door. Oh, look at you, you miserable, snivelling whore. There was a time when you wanted nothing more than to be with me. Now you can’t wait to get away.’

  ‘What shall we do, Hannah?’ Ruby had whispered.

  ‘I don’t know. Pa will take it out on us, if we go down …’ Hannah’s heart had pounded as she’d heard her stepmother’s footsteps and the banging of doors. ‘We should find out if she’s all right, even though there’s no love lost between us.’

  They had crept downstairs, following the sound of Stepmother’s sobbing to her boudoir where they’d knocked softly at the door, Hannah praying that their father wouldn’t turn up. ‘It’s me and Ruby,’ she’d said and after a while, their stepmother had opened the door and, keeping her face half covered, reassured them that all was well. There had been a minor disagreement over her plan to order a new coat for a special service at the cathedral where Christopher would be singing in the choir. Pa had knocked over a candlestick, breaking a pane of glass in the dining room. In her hurry to fetch the maid to clear it up, Stepmother had walked into the door, bruising her eye.

  ‘You see, it’s all my fault. I’ve always been prone to accidents.’

  ‘He called you a …’ – Hannah couldn’t bring herself to echo Pa’s exact words – ‘… an unfortunate woman.’

  And Stepmother had deliberately misunderstood her. ‘I certainly am – I can’t possibly go and hear Christopher sing, looking like this. Go to bed, you two. It’s kind of you to come and find me, but there’s nothing to be done.’

  Hannah shuddered at the memory.

  ‘Then your stepmother has all the disadvantages of marriage and none of the benefits.’ Charlotte sighed. ‘What do you think of Doctor Clifton?’

  ‘He seems very professional.’

  ‘Oh, come on. He’s like a god. Everyone says so, except Trimmie.’

  ‘I can’t say. I’ve only met him once.’ She had steeled herself against taking any significant notice of members of the male sex for some time, and it had become a habit. The doctor had a stirring voice, deep and authoritative with a lilt of tenderness when required, which she had observed when he had been examining Charlie’s knees. His countenance, eyes and smile were pleasing, but not excessively so.

  ‘I’ve seen him go beyond the call of duty many times, but he’s set far too high above the likes of us,’ Charlotte went on.

  ‘You would entertain another engagement?’ Hannah enquired.

  ‘I didn’t think I would, but now that a decent amount of time has elapsed, I would consider it.’ Charlotte chuckled. ‘I’m not interested in Doctor Clifton, if that’s what you’re thinking. Watch out for Mr Anthony, the surgeon – he’s a most disagreeable man, but very good at his job. And then there are the medical students who come here two or three at a time to see what we do at the infirmary. What else can I tell you?’

  ‘How were the boys? Sister Trim said she didn’t want them disturbed when I stopped by to see them.’

  ‘Charlie was none too keen on having a bath – Mrs Merry, the bathing attendant, had a devil of a time with him – but you should have seen the way his eyes lit up when he saw his dinner. He devoured the whole lot, but Peter hardly touched his, the poor little mite. I’m afraid he’s completely lost his merriment.’ Charlotte wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘If you’re ready, I can show you where you’ll be sleeping. You’re sharing my room.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Not at all, as long as you don’t snore like Charity used to. She’s gone to run a private convalescent home nearby – working on the wards left her almost worn out. Shall we go? Mr Mordikai said he’d arrange to have yo
ur boxes left outside the door.’

  ‘I haven’t brought much with me. The rest of my things are being sent on.’

  ‘I expect there’ll be a uniform waiting for you. Mrs Knowles is good like that – she looks after us.’

  Hannah followed Charlotte out of the dining hall and they made their way out of the infirmary and along the road to a terraced house overlooking the sea.

  ‘This is it,’ Charlotte said as she opened the front door, letting Hannah inside. ‘Our room is on the top floor. It’s a little cramped, but it’s home.’

  It was cosy and well-appointed with two beds, a washstand, table and rickety chaise. There was a pair of drapes in a heavy, blue brocade, and a striped rag rug.

  ‘Of course, the views are much better in daylight.’ Charlotte smiled as she showed Hannah the sights from the windows: a moonlit courtyard garden and other houses to the rear; the sea to the front. Hannah unpacked her few belongings, then turned in. Having assumed that she wouldn’t be able to sleep, she didn’t remember a thing from when her head hit the pillow, until the rattling of windows, laughter and the deep, throaty yells of masculine voices disturbed her. They began to sing,

  ‘If any sick they bring to me,

  I physics, bleeds and sweats ’em.

  If after that they choose to die,

  What’s that to me? I Lettsom.’

  ‘What on earth’s going on? Is there a fire?’ Hannah leapt out of bed, but Charlotte was already at the open window, gazing into the darkness.

  ‘Gentlemen! That’s quite enough. There are ladies trying to sleep.’

  ‘Sleep? Oh, come down here, beautiful creatures …’

  ‘Who are they?’ Hannah clutched the collar of her nightgown, holding it across her throat, as she looked past Charlotte’s shoulder to find three faces looking up, their features illuminated by the moon. They were louche young men with trimmed beards and crumpled shirts. One had a tie dangling around his neck. Another carried what looked suspiciously like a tankard, and the third smiled inanely, flashing his white teeth.

  ‘You are like angels,’ he said, but Hannah didn’t think he was addressing her – his gaze lingered longingly on Charlotte.

  ‘Henry, they are angels,’ said one of his companions. ‘They are too good for the likes of us.’

  ‘For goodness’ sake, go home to bed!’ Charlotte said, half scolding, half laughing. ‘We have to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. And you’re making yourselves look ridiculous.’

  ‘You heard what the lady said.’ Henry’s companions lifted him under the arms and dragged him away protesting, before he called back, ‘Goodnight, my darlings.’

  ‘They’re going to have sore heads tomorrow.’ Grinning, Charlotte closed the curtains. ‘They’re the latest crop of medical students who’ve come to make the most of what Margate has to offer. They get in the way on the wards, but I don’t mind – they liven the place up.’

  ‘I’ve met their kind before,’ Hannah said. ‘It never ceases to amaze me how they suddenly transform from boorish louts to respectable physicians, like butterflies emerging from their cocoons.’ She returned to bed and heard nothing more until Charlotte woke her.

  ‘Morning,’ she said brightly. ‘It’s time to rise and shine.’

  ‘That felt like a very short night,’ Hannah sighed, but she didn’t take long to get ready, eager to find her way around the infirmary. However, Matron’s plan for her orientation fell apart as staff shortages meant that she was sent straight to the Lettsom, where Sister Trim gave her a lecture to start the day.

  ‘I expect you to turn up on my ward smartly presented and clean to honour the memory of our founder, Doctor Coakley Lettsom, gemmologist, philanthropist, botanist …’

  As Sister Trim listed his interests – apparently, he had even introduced the mangelwurzel, whatever that was, to England – Hannah wondered how on earth he’d had time to be a doctor as well. She could only deduce that he must have had the support of an obliging wife and a multitude of servants.

  ‘He made a fortune from his private patients, but he used it wisely, endowing this infirmary to the residents of Margate and beyond. Now, I don’t know how you were taught, but we have our own way of doing things around here.’

  ‘I understand,’ Hannah said.

  ‘A child’s prattle is wearying and sometimes the parents are horrible. They can be uncivil and treat you like a servant, but you have to bear their ingratitude and do your duty without complaining.’

  Hannah had to bite her tongue as Sister Trim continued, ‘Always speak in a low and gentle voice. Walk carefully – I hope your shoes don’t squeak – and not on tiptoes, for there’s a sham quietness that disturbs the sick more than the loudest noise.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’ She heard a water closet flushing and the gurgle and banging of water in the pipes, and the tick-tick-tick as they heated up to provide the day’s baths.

  ‘The doctors will stop here on their rounds at about nine o’clock when all the patients should be ready, the bedpans emptied, and the bedsides spick and span. Then it’s breakfast time for those who are not nil by mouth. Lunch is taken out on the balcony, come rain or shine. When the patients are outdoors, you will change the beds, dust the ward – including the windowsills – and mop the floors.’

  ‘May I assist with Master Swift’s bath?’ she dared to ask.

  Sister Trim stared at her. ‘We don’t allow favourites here. Anyway, that’s the bathing attendant’s responsibility, not yours. Make haste. Nurse Finch will show you where to find the equipment you need: a place for everything, and everything in its place.’

  Soon the ward was tidy, although Hannah hadn’t got around to attending to all her patients by the time the doctors made their appearance. She heard them before she saw them: the sound of their metal-tipped shoes tapping against the teak floorboards. Doctor Clifton introduced her to Mr Anthony, who was in his forties, and one of those men who made up for their lack of stature by being as disagreeable as possible. He had delicate fingers, a Roman nose and a bald head, and his loud voice alarmed the children.

  ‘Good day, Nurse,’ he said gruffly. ‘Tell me about Master Herring. Has he complained of pain overnight? Has he evacuated his bowels this morning? Why haven’t you removed his bandages in readiness? Even with my excellent vision, I haven’t the capacity to see through gauze.’

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t have time to prepare on this occasion,’ she said, refusing to be cowed.

  ‘Well, that just isn’t good enough, but it’s the sort of incompetence I’ve come to expect from Matron’s handmaidens.’

  ‘Nurse Bentley is new to the house,’ Doctor Clifton said.

  ‘Excuses, excuses.’ Mr Anthony turned on him. ‘There’s no excuse for laziness.’

  Hannah’s face burned. He was a bully – she’d met his like before. Whenever there was a foul smell on the ward, the surgeons would scurry past while the nurses valiantly rushed in. Had Sister Trim deliberately tripped her up, keeping her away from her patients while she lectured her? she wondered as Mr Anthony waited, huffing with impatience as she removed Peter’s bandages.

  Eventually, the doctors finished their round, giving their instructions for each patient. The surgeon rushed off to begin on his list of operations for the day.

  ‘Don’t worry about him,’ Doctor Clifton said, stepping up beside her. ‘He’s a brilliant man, but his manner leaves a little to be desired.’

  ‘You mean ol’ fly-rink, the one with the bald ’ead,’ Charlie said, overhearing.

  ‘It’s none of your business.’ Hannah tried not to smile.

  ‘I don’t know ’ow you ’eld your tongue.’

  ‘Charlie!’

  ‘I never knew what nursin’ was all about.’

  ‘Never mind,’ she said, amused. ‘Neither do the doctors.’

  Doctor Clifton didn’t appear the slightest bit offended. He kept his voice low, so she had to lean in to hear him.

  ‘Would you do me a favour? Gi
ve this to Johnnie from me. Remind him to hide it from Sister, or we’ll be in the doghouse.’ Like a magician, he let a knitting needle fall from inside his shirtsleeve.

  ‘Do you knit, Doctor Clifton?’ she asked.

  ‘I undertake a little sewing, although I prefer to leave the suturing of wounds to the surgeons. No, this belonged to my dearly departed wife.’

  ‘I’m sorry …’ She felt guilty for asking the question, but how was she supposed to know that he was a widower? Charlotte hadn’t mentioned he’d been married. She’d assumed he was one of the luckiest men in the world, born with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth into a good family, educated at Oxford or Cambridge before registering with the Royal College of Physicians. He certainly had all the advantages that nature could bestow. She glanced from his hands, strong yet gentle, his nails blunt and clean, to the knitting needle. ‘I can’t take this,’ she said. ‘It’s a danger to the children. They will have someone’s eye out with it.’

  ‘Don’t you have any compassion for Johnnie’s predicament?’

  ‘I have every sympathy for him, but this isn’t the solution.’

  She realised now why he’d been soft-soaping her, acting on friendly terms – so he could take advantage of her good nature. If he imagined that she would side with him rather than Sister Trim, then he was wrong.

  ‘Good day, Doctor,’ she said hotly.

  ‘I’ll have to find another way,’ he sighed.

  ‘Please don’t. If I find that anywhere near here, I’ll have to report you.’

  He frowned, and she wished she’d made more light of it.

  After he had left the ward, she helped Peter with his breakfast, served up in a pewter dish marked ‘Margate infmry’ on the rim.

  ‘I’m not ’ungry.’ He couldn’t swallow even a morsel of porridge. ‘Me neck ’urts.’

  ‘He ain’t up to dick,’ Charlie said from the next bed along. ‘He ain’t well at all.’