The Seaside Angel

by Evie Grace

  ‘Doctor Clifton! Oh?’ Mrs Phillips exclaimed, looking from the doctor to Hannah and back. She was in her late thirties, Hannah guessed, and dressed in the height of fashion in a peacock-blue princess-line dress with a high collar, and a narrow skirt which looked almost impossible to walk in.

  ‘Nurse Bentley is assisting me today.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re more than capable of examining me by yourself.’ Mrs Phillips gazed at him adoringly. ‘I’ll need help with my dress, though, I suppose.’

  ‘The last time I saw you, you were seeking treatment for inflammation of the tonsils,’ Doctor Clifton said sternly. ‘There’s no need to disrobe.’

  ‘Oh dear, but I’m having terrible pains right here.’ She touched her breast, pointing to her heart.

  ‘They’ve come on suddenly?’ he queried.

  ‘Well, yes.’ She stood up and swept towards him, reaching for his hand and pressing it to her chest. ‘Can you feel it? My heart is racing uncontrollably.’

  ‘Nurse will help you undress. I’ll return shortly.’

  With a sigh, she released his hand and turned to Hannah with a look of resignation.

  When he’d left the room, Hannah unfastened the hooks and eyes at the back of Mrs Phillips’s dress, and helped her into a gown. Mrs Phillips lay down on the trolley with one arm behind her head and the gown draped loosely across her chest, as though emulating Venus, the goddess of love.

  Hannah was surprised at how she was carrying on – she was at least ten years older than Doctor Clifton and married at that.

  He came back to check her throat, heart and lungs, and prescribed honey and lemon with a dash of whisky, along with a tonic from the pharmacy, for which he wrote out a prescription slip.

  ‘What about my palpitations?’ Mrs Phillips said, apparently not entirely satisfied with his diagnosis.

  ‘How many cups of coffee do you have in a day?’ the doctor asked.

  ‘Oh, several.’ She waved her arm, deliberately exposing her breast.

  ‘Then I suggest that you cut back – the active component has a stimulatory effect on the heart.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Do you think you can do that, Mrs Phillips? For the sake of your health.’

  ‘I shall try, if you think it’s necessary,’ she said, her tone husky. ‘I shall expect a house call next time. It can’t be good for an invalid to have to leave the comfort of her home to mingle with all and sundry at the infirmary, but I’m teaching you to suck eggs, Doctor Clifton.’

  He wished her good day, and Hannah helped her back into her clothes, before showing her to the pharmacy and making her way past the Allspices who were still waiting.

  ‘Has she gone?’ she heard someone whisper. At first, she thought she’d imagined it, but the doctor peered out from the shadows of a doorway.

  ‘I showed her to the pharmacy,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘I won’t be able to relax until she’s left the building. Oh dear, you think I’m touched.’ He grinned. ‘Mrs Phillips believes that we have an attachment when there’s nothing of the sort. Her husband – he’s elderly, and doesn’t please her any more …’

  ‘She’s pining for you?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Why do you humour her? Why don’t you tell her to find another doctor?’

  ‘It isn’t that straightforward. Firstly, Mr Phillips is Chair of the Board and a major donor to the house, and secondly, ladies like Mrs Phillips are my bread and butter. How can I give my services to the house gratis if I have no income?’

  ‘I didn’t realise …’ she stammered. According to Charlotte, he spent most days at the infirmary – she’d assumed that he had been taking a wage.

  ‘I wouldn’t take advantage of those who give charitably to provide treatment for the poor by insisting on being paid, but’ – he quirked one eyebrow – ‘I don’t do it entirely out of selflessness. I gain experience and make a name for myself, which benefits my private practice. There’s little wrong with Mrs Phillips. I believe that much ill health arises from abnormal states of the mind – giving reassurance and offering the simple placebo of a harmless tonic can stop the patient fretting about every ache and pain.’

  ‘She is lovesick, though,’ Hannah said. ‘I didn’t think there was a cure for that, apart from time …’

  ‘Ah’ – a shadow crossed his eyes – ‘they say that time is a healer, but I have my doubts. Thank you for your assistance today.’

  She returned to the ward.

  ‘Oh, here comes Nurse Bentley at last, making herself out to be some seaside angel,’ Sister Trim said acidly. ‘Matron’s on the warpath, by the way. She wants to see you in her office.’

  ‘Now?’ Hannah’s forehead tightened.

  ‘Now,’ Sister Trim confirmed, and Hannah felt sick, as if she’d received one of Charlie’s belly-go-fisters.

  ‘Miss Russell said that you were outspoken, but I thought you would know your place by now,’ Mrs Knowles said, her cheeks pink with annoyance as Hannah sat facing her across her desk. ‘However, I have to temper my opinion of Mr Taylor’s report of your conduct with the fact that Doctor Clifton saw fit to agree with you and take steps to have the patient admitted.’

  ‘It was an impossible situation,’ Hannah said. ‘I couldn’t accept that the boy was about to be turned away because of his parents’ lack of moral virtue. It isn’t fair that certain people who have nothing wrong with them are treated like royalty, while those who really need our care are left to suffer.’

  ‘This is about you, not others,’ Matron said impatiently. ‘In future, you are to think before you speak.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

  ‘I appreciate the difficulty in striking a balance between asserting one’s authority and keeping quiet on matters which you find hard to accept. Either one is considered a bull in a china shop or a shrinking violet. You demonstrate the qualities of leadership – initiative and the courage to speak your mind – but you also need to learn tact and diplomacy if you’re going to progress.’ Matron’s face relaxed into a smile. ‘I’m living proof that it can be done, given time.’

  For once, Hannah didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Sister Trim and I have managed to organise the rota so that you and Nurse Finch have the same afternoon off this week – I thought she could show you around Margate before you attend church. Off you go.’

  As Hannah returned to the Lettsom, she came across Charlotte who was mopping the floors.

  ‘Thank you for making a start on my chores,’ she said. ‘I’m very grateful.’

  Charlotte grinned. ‘I can’t be seen to be standing around doing nothing. I heard what happened today with Mr Taylor and Doctor Clifton. It’s all over the house. You caused rather a stir.’

  On reflection, Hannah would do the same again, but as Mrs Knowles had suggested, in a more tactful and considered way.

  ‘Nurse Bentley, Nurse Finch, you may go,’ Sister Trim said, looking up at the clock. It was four in the afternoon on the Friday, two days after the incident with Mr Taylor and the Allspices. ‘I’ll see you in the morning at seven o’clock sharp.’ Hannah treasured her time off. She had one early finish a week to go to church, one day a week to herself, and one week’s annual holiday. She worked from seven in the morning until eight in the evening, taking her meals at the infirmary, and sharing the house with Charlotte and the other nurses.

  ‘We’ll be bright and early, Sister,’ Charlotte said, beaming.

  Light of step, Hannah hurried back with her to the nurses’ home where they changed into their Sunday best.

  ‘I don’t know about you, but I only go to church on special occasions – Christmas and Easter, weddings …’ Charlotte said as she looked for her bonnet. ‘I pray every night, but I’m not sure if that makes up for it. The chaplain holds a service in the new chapel every evening, or you can worship at Holy Trinity. Or we can go for a walk along the beach.’

  ‘I’d like to see a little of Margate. I can go to church next week, or the one aft
er.’

  ‘I hope I’m not leading you astray.’

  ‘Only a little,’ Hannah smiled. ‘Thinking about going astray, what happened to Henry and his companions? We haven’t seen hide nor hair of them since their escapade the other night.’

  ‘Someone reported back to Matron – they’ve been suspended for a week. Apparently, Doctor Clifton was furious. It turns out that Henry is his cousin – Mrs Merry told me. She has her finger on the pulse, so to speak, when it comes to the gossip. I think he’s particularly annoyed because he invited Henry here as a favour, to help him with his studies.’

  ‘Henry’s interests seem to lie elsewhere,’ Hannah observed.

  It wasn’t long before they were on the beach, paddling through the shallow, foaming waves without their shoes and stockings.

  ‘This seems very daring to me,’ Hannah said, burying her toes in the warm sand.

  ‘It’s perfectly acceptable. I come down here whenever I can, pretending I’m on holiday. I’ve heard that Brighton is superior to Margate, but I don’t believe it.’ Charlotte giggled as the water splashed the hem of her skirt.

  ‘My sister would love it here.’ Hannah gazed towards the promenade where the crowds were being entertained by minstrels, Punch and Judy, and a showman with a singing dog.

  ‘She should come and stay for part of the summer. Write to her.’

  ‘I need to buy stationery and stamps, so I can get in touch with her to let her know I’ve moved,’ Hannah said, feeling guilty that she hadn’t had a chance to write back before. Ruby would be wondering why she hadn’t heard from her.

  ‘I’ll show you where the best shops are. Oh, look at all these people. By July, Margate will be crawling with emmets. I wish they’d stay in London.’ Charlotte stopped abruptly. ‘No offence.’

  ‘None taken.’ It was busy, but Hannah liked the way that all classes of society seemed to be mixing together. There were children playing in the sand, building castles with buckets and spades, while their mothers and nannies watched them.

  A group of fashionably dressed ladies in straw hats with ribbons streaming in the breeze stood facing out to sea, their eyes fixed on several figures who were cavorting some distance from the shore.

  ‘May I have the glasses now?’ one said in a wheedling voice. ‘You’ve had your turn.’

  ‘One more minute,’ another said, holding opera glasses up to her eyes. ‘Oh, aren’t they beautiful?’

  ‘Give me the glasses!’ Hannah thought she recognised Mrs Phillips in one of her form-fitting skirts. ‘You are being mean.’

  ‘You must bring your own next time.’

  ‘Why are they making a scene?’ Hannah whispered as she and Charlotte walked past. ‘It’s most unladylike.’

  ‘Can you hear the men shouting?’ Charlotte asked.

  Hannah paused, straining her ears and eyes as she tried to make out what the commotion was about. There were gentlemen splashing and laughing, diving in and out of the water from a pontoon, the rays of the late afternoon sunshine endowing their naked torsos with a coppery glow.

  She gasped. ‘They aren’t wearing shirts, just bathing drawers.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Charlotte didn’t seem at all shocked, merely amused. ‘My eyes aren’t so good – perhaps I should invest in a telescope.’

  ‘There’s no need for that. Really, there isn’t.’

  ‘You’re sounding like a prude, Hannah. It could be worse. Apparently there are ladies and gentlemen who like to swim in company with each other, in a promiscuous manner.’

  ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘The ladies look even less modest than the gentlemen, the way their bathing costumes cling to their figures.’

  ‘They certainly don’t frolic like this in London,’ Hannah said, watching two men wrestling on the pontoon: one tall and broad-shouldered, the other equally tall, but bulkier. The former threw the latter into the water.

  ‘I’ll get you back for that,’ he shouted, laughing as the slimmer one stood brazenly showing off his naked chest, his skin gleaming as he shook the water from his hair.

  ‘Well, that’s a treat for you,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘If you say so.’ Hannah blushed. ‘We are all the same, skin, flesh and bone.’

  ‘But we’re put together differently, some in a more harmonious way than others …’

  Hannah couldn’t disagree, nor could she stop thinking about what she’d seen, when they put on their shoes and stockings and proceeded to the front to treat themselves to a penny lick.

  One of the Sicilians who kept his wares cold with ice from Norway and salt from Cheshire took a glass and dipped a wooden paddle into the ice-cream container on his stall. He took out a lump and smoothed it into the glass, leaving a peak. He added a second on top.

  ‘That looks more like a tuppenny’s worth,’ Charlotte said.

  ‘It’s a little extra for you lovely young ladies. Comu bedda.’ He winked from under his cap.

  ‘Thank you.’ Hannah licked the ice cream, savouring the sweet crystalline texture and its vanilla taste, and feeling shy about eating on the street, something that Pa and Stepmother would have frowned upon.

  She returned the glass. The Sicilian wiped it with a flannel and put it back on the stall.

  ‘I think he has a fancy for you,’ Charlotte observed as they followed the road into town. ‘He’s never given me free ice cream before.’

  ‘The hokey-pokey man?’ Hannah couldn’t restrain a chuckle at her companion’s outrageous suggestion. ‘Oh no, I don’t think so.’

  ‘I’m sure he has.’

  Hannah turned and looked back. He was watching. Caught out, he grinned.

  ‘You seem surprised. You must have attracted a good few admirers before.’

  ‘There was one,’ Hannah admitted. ‘He proposed to me, but I turned him down.’

  ‘Was it a romantic proposal? Did you break his heart?’

  ‘It was about six months ago when I returned to Canterbury for a family funeral.’

  ‘I’m sorry – I’m always putting my foot in it.’

  ‘Don’t worry. My grandmother – on my mother’s side – had been ill for some time. Her death came more as a blessed release than a surprise to anyone, but I was still very upset. It’s a long story, but when I ran away from home, I moved in with her. I owe her a great debt for paying for my training.’ Hannah smiled ruefully. ‘Anyway, Mr Adamson and I formed a friendship. He walked me home from church sometimes – in the presence of my cousins, I hasten to add.’ Hannah hadn’t encouraged him in the slightest. In fact, his double-edged comments about his attraction to her had put her off, especially when he’d said that he was prepared to tolerate her freckles because he found her figure most agreeable.

  ‘He tried to kiss me once, so I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when he approached me at the wake,’ she continued.

  ‘What did he say?’

  ‘He offered me his condolences, then remarked that I looked more beautiful than ever … then he said that he held me in great esteem and admired the way I’d worked to become a young lady of independent means. He told me that it was completely unnecessary for me to continue, that I should give up caring for my patients and look after him instead. Can you believe that?

  ‘I told him that I’d rather be a slave to my vocation than to matrimony, at which he smiled and said that he was prepared to wait until I’d changed my mind.’

  ‘How presumptuous.’

  ‘He said he’d ask again, so I retorted, “A gentleman would not, sir,” and turned my back on him.’ She recalled how her uncle had come to her rescue, then taken her aside to tell her of the small inheritance her grandmother had left her, a nest egg to put away for a rainy day, with a proviso that she would use some of it to help her sister, if she saw fit. With that and her savings, she had just enough for a deposit and a few weeks’ rent, not enough to support Ruby longer-term, unless her sister found paid occupation, but, as she and Charlotte wandered through Mar
gate, Hannah made her decision. She would summon Ruby straight away to keep her safe and for her own peace of mind.

  ‘You were very blunt, then,’ Charlotte said as they passed W. Tubbs, the tobacconist on Trinity Hill where the scent of cigar smoke vied with the aroma of ladies’ perfume from the shop next door.

  ‘I beg your pardon … I was miles away.’

  ‘With this Mr Adamson.’ Charlotte smiled.

  ‘Oh yes. I had to be cruel to be kind. I could see that my attempts at letting him down gently were only encouraging him. He didn’t understand that I couldn’t bear the idea of marriage, of being cooped up running a household, like a hen with her wings clipped, and subject to a husband’s every whim.’ Not only that, if she ever wed, she knew she’d be terrified that her husband would turn out to be like her father.

  ‘Even though we’re poorly paid and subject to Matron’s orders, we have a certain amount of freedom,’ Charlotte agreed. ‘Do you think you’ll stay on at the infirmary?’

  ‘It’ll take me a while to get used to it, but yes, I think so.’

  ‘There’s plenty to do in Margate – you can visit the Hall by the Sea, the pleasure gardens and the grotto, and spend time in one of the bathing rooms. Failing that, you can always go window shopping.’ Charlotte stopped outside the next shop and pointed to a pair of shoes made of blue French silk, a complete contrast to their plain everyday leather footwear which had flannel linings and stout India-rubber soles. ‘Look at those.’

  ‘They’d be perfect for dancing,’ Hannah said, coveting the ribbons and silver buckles. ‘I’ve never been to a ball.’

  ‘Neither have I,’ Charlotte said sadly.

  ‘If I’d accepted Mr Adamson’s hand, I’d have been able to buy any number of pairs of those shoes in all the different colours of the rainbow.’