The Seaside Angel

by Evie Grace

  ‘I have to go,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Sister Trim will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  She rushed off and hid in the sluice to dry the tears that were falling – for herself, for Doctor Clifton and for Alice.

  She stopped by to visit her friend before she left the infirmary that evening as had become her custom, finding Alice sitting up in bed.

  ‘How are you?’ Hannah asked.

  ‘About the same, thank you. I could get used to this treatment – I’ve had a warm saltwater bath, a delicious supper and a lovely snooze in the sunshine.’ She glanced at the picture of Mr Fry on the bedside locker. ‘The only thing I’m missing is dear Tom.’

  ‘When is he coming to visit you?’

  ‘I’m not sure. It depends on when he can get away from London.’

  ‘It isn’t that difficult to get here by train.’

  ‘I know, but he works long hours at the bank, and visits his mother at weekends. Anyway, that’s enough about him. What about you? What do you think of Margate and the infirmary?’

  ‘I like it here. Ruby is settling in, Margate is wonderful – much cleaner and fresher than London – and the patients are lovely’ – she recalled Master Crowborough’s howling, and his complaints after he arrived on the ward that day about the hard mattress, the smell of carbolic and the presence of the poor boys like Charlie – ‘on the whole. I’ve made a good ally in Charlotte, Nurse Finch.’

  ‘And Doctor Clifton?’ Alice asked slyly. ‘You mentioned him in your letters.’

  ‘You know what it’s like when you’re working alongside someone all the time. Nursing comes first, and as a nurse, I’m telling you to get some sleep now. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Alice didn’t protest as she stood up to leave.

  ‘How is your friend?’ Ruby asked when Hannah returned to their lodgings.

  ‘I can’t say. Anything relating to our patients is confidential.’

  ‘Oh, you are a spoilsport. You know I wouldn’t say anything.’

  ‘I know, but it’s best that I keep my mouth shut. Tell me, what have you been doing today?’

  ‘I’ve been out to buy food and ale, and I’ve received a letter from Stepmother … We became quite friendly after you left. Our mutual interests in fashion and reading drew us together. Anyway, she wanted to know that she found us well and happy. Apparently, Pa is resigned to my leaving home and has no interest in persuading me to return to Canterbury, which suits me fine, although it means I’ll have to find my own husband rather than relying on him to do it for me. And Cook has walked out after all those years working for the family. When Pa found out that she’d sent my boxes to Margate, he lost his temper with her, but instead of crying like she normally would, she packed her bags and left with her head held high.’

  Ruby jumped up. ‘Shall we go out for a walk? It’s still light, and the hokey-pokey men will be on the promenade. You’re always reminding me of the benefits of fresh air, although you’re a poor advertisement for the infirmary – you look terribly washed out.’

  ‘I’m a little tired, that’s all.’

  ‘Come on. You’ll feel better for it.’ Ruby offered her arm.

  ‘You’ve put up your hair in a different way, and that dress …’ Hannah stroked the soft maroon velvet of her sister’s sleeve. ‘I envy you.’

  ‘Stepmother bought it for me for one of her soirees.’ Ruby touched the gleaming red stone suspended on a gold chain around her neck, her inheritance from their grandmother. ‘I think it’s important to maintain my standards, even though we seem to be at the very edge of society here in Margate, but I’m not complaining. Margate isn’t like Canterbury – it’s much more interesting.’

  ‘I’ll change my shoes and put on my bonnet at least,’ Hannah said.

  ‘Ah, I thought you might permit me to borrow your shoes. I have only one pair here – the rest are still to be sent on. Mine have left a blister – I can barely walk in them.’

  Hannah gave in and they walked together along the front, Ruby wearing Hannah’s best shoes. They stopped for ice cream at one of the stalls.

  ‘That is a beautiful piece of jewellery.’ The hokey-pokey man stared at Ruby who smiled and stepped closer to show him her necklace, before buying two portions of Neapolitan ice cream which they unwrapped and ate as they continued on their way.

  ‘If someone wishes to admire your necklace, they’re trying to reel you in.’ Hannah’s teeth crunched on the ice crystals in the striped sweet treat, which tasted as if the maker had mixed in some mashed swede. ‘Indulging in that sort of behaviour might lead you to being handled or kissed.’

  ‘It would in Canterbury,’ Ruby said, ‘but this is Margate. Everyone’s far more relaxed in their manners and modes of dress, and it was a perfectly innocent request. Shall we go window shopping?’

  Hannah wasn’t sure if she should put temptation in her sister’s way.

  ‘I really do need new shoes,’ Ruby wheedled. ‘If we saw some, I could come back and buy them tomorrow.’

  ‘We’ll have to save up first,’ Hannah said.

  ‘You have plenty of money. I’ve seen what you’ve got in the box, the one you’ve hidden away under the bed.’

  ‘Shh, Ruby. I have enough, but if we spend beyond our means, we’ll soon run out. Look, I’m hoping for a promotion which will mean better pay – life should be a little easier then.’ Hannah didn’t know when that would be, but she was optimistic. There were rumours that Matron was intending to make some changes among the staff.

  ‘Thank you,’ Ruby smiled. ‘I thought that tomorrow I might go back to the Hall by the Sea. There’s so much to see there – we can’t have seen half of it the other day.’

  ‘That was a special treat.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that Mr Milani said that the cubs were growing and changing every day, and I’d like to see them again.’

  Hannah wasn’t sure what was the main attraction – the cubs or the lion tamer – but she had an idea that she should keep Ruby well away.

  They carried on walking. It was low tide and the sea was miles out, leaving a vast expanse of rippled sand and shingle, and the boats listing in the harbour. The bathing rooms were closing for the night, but the centre of town was still open for business. Hannah heard the tinkling of a piano and loud chatter coming from the Assembly Rooms where one might spot one of the gentry or even a distant member of the Royal Family.

  ‘Look!’ Ruby grasped Hannah’s arm as they passed through Cecil Square with its shops and mansions. ‘Isn’t that the famous Doctor Clifton’s plate?’

  They moved closer to the building in the corner: a four-storey terrace, built of red brick with Bath stone coping, and a slate roof. To the right of the door, five steps up from the street, was a brass plaque engraved with Doctor Clifton’s name and professional registration. Above the door was a sign, reading ‘Surgery’.

  A pulse beat lightly at Hannah’s temple. This was where he ran his private clinic. This was where he lived – where she could have lived, if she’d accepted his offer. A tear sprang to her eye, and she turned away.

  ‘I’ve walked along here many times, but I’ve never come close enough to spot his name before,’ Ruby said. ‘He must be a gentleman of considerable fortune if he can afford this.’

  ‘He works very hard. He deserves it for what he does.’

  ‘And you don’t?’

  ‘It’s different.’

  Ruby didn’t argue. She pointed out the posters on the board outside the library: one for the infirmary fête, and one for tickets for the infirmary ball to be held in late August.

  ‘I should like to go to a ball,’ she said longingly.

  ‘One day,’ Hannah said. ‘When I’m a sister, I’ll buy tickets and we’ll go together.’

  ‘What about the gentlemen?’ Ruby asked. ‘Won’t we have to find someone to introduce us? We aren’t allowed to dance without being introduced first. But then you know plenty of people at the infi
rmary. Oh, Hannah, the difficulty is resolved.’

  ‘It won’t be this year.’

  ‘I know. I’ll be patient. I wish the library was open – I’d like to borrow another of Mrs Whiting’s books. Her novels are filled with drama – love stories, romance and scandal. Pa used to complain that they inflamed passions in a most unnecessary way, so Stepmother and I used to hide our copies in her dressing room. Have you read any books recently?’

  ‘Only Miss Nightingale’s Notes on Nursing,’ Hannah chuckled.

  ‘I might have known.’ Ruby grinned at her. ‘Shall we go home?’

  Chapter Eleven

  Counting the Pennies

  Two days later, Hannah was on the ward as usual, on her knees, scrubbing the floor with soap and carbolic, while the patients chatted outside on the balcony with one of the governesses who schooled them, and a pair of lady volunteers assisting. Without them, Hannah didn’t know how they would manage to get all their work done.

  She was aware that Mr Hunter was standing nearby with Charlotte, having expressly asked her to help him summarise Charlie’s condition and progress for a report he was writing for his studies. Charlie himself was out on the balcony continuing with his education.

  ‘You’d be better off asking Nurse Bentley,’ she heard Charlotte say, sounding rather exasperated at having been taken off her duties. ‘He’s her patient – she’s been looking after him the whole time.’

  ‘I wanted to ask you …’ Mr Hunter said in a low voice. ‘I thought … Oh dear, you have a loose thread on your apron – it’s about to unravel. Where will I find a pair of scissors?’

  ‘In the trolley over there,’ Charlotte said, ‘but it really doesn’t matter. I’ll deal with it.’

  ‘What’s the problem? Does Sister Trim object to gentlemen rifling through her drawers?’

  ‘Mr Hunter, you are a disgrace!’ Charlotte hissed. ‘Don’t you ever take anything seriously?’

  ‘I’m sorry. Sometimes, I don’t think before I speak.’

  ‘Well, you really should learn.’

  Hannah heard footsteps before Mr Hunter spoke again. ‘May I?’

  ‘I’ll do it, thank you,’ Charlotte said sternly. ‘Now, what was it you wanted to know about Master Swift?’

  ‘Everything,’ he said.

  ‘Then you must read his notes – they’re over there in the box.’

  ‘Why have you suddenly taken against me?’

  ‘Because you’re immature and ungentlemanly, and you’re wasting my time – and Doctor Clifton’s. Leave me alone – I want nothing to do with you.’

  ‘Nurse Finch, you’re breaking my heart.’

  ‘Go away and write your report.’

  Hannah almost put her cloth down to applaud the way Charlotte was dealing with his unwanted attentions. He might be privileged and handsome, but he was a fool.

  As she heard Charlotte stalk away, her ears pricked at the sound of Sister Trim’s voice.

  ‘Your son is spoiled,’ she was saying. ‘He’s had my nurses running around like headless chickens, asking them to fetch this and that for him. You might not like this, Mrs Crowborough, but you really should teach him some manners.’

  ‘He says that you lost your temper with him, that you smacked him across the face.’ The cut-glass accent belonged to a woman in a sheer silk dress the colour of lilac – Hannah could see her skirts, the lace edging to her petticoat and the toes of a pair of elegant forest-green shoes from her vantage point.

  ‘Whom should you believe: a ward sister of many years, or a little tattle-tale who’s made up these lies because I sent his pudding back when he complained about lumps in the custard?’

  ‘How do you explain the bruise, the one on his cheek?’

  ‘He fell from a wall. One would expect a few bruises as well as the broken leg.’

  ‘I’m not happy about this. I’ll be raising a formal complaint with the matron here.’

  ‘Do as you wish,’ Sister Trim said, her tone like acid. ‘The boy is ready to be discharged – his boxes are beside the bed. I’ll call for one of the porters to help you. Good day.’ A few minutes afterwards, Sister Trim came over to speak to Hannah who redoubled her efforts at scrubbing. ‘Did you hear that? How dare she accuse me of assaulting her precious child?’

  ‘I did hear what she said.’ Hannah looked up to where Sister Trim was picking at her nails.

  ‘There’s no truth in it – you’ll speak up for me if it comes to anything?’

  ‘Of course.’ Hannah was comfortable with that – she hadn’t seen Sister Trim inflict any kind of violence on the boy. She had on occasion seen her box patients around the ears, and yell at them, terrorising them into submission for an unwanted procedure or high-spirited behaviour. Sister was a skilled nurse when it came to dressing wounds and managing a ward, but her bedside manner left much to be desired when it came to offering a few words of reassurance and comfort.

  ‘I’m very grateful for that. Are you done there?’

  ‘Almost,’ she said.

  ‘I have some paperwork to complete. You and Nurse Finch will change the bed that Master Crowborough has just vacated. It is to stay in readiness for the next patient.’

  ‘Yes, Sister.’ Hannah wrung out her cloth into the bucket and got to her feet as Sister Trim made her way to the end of the ward where she sat down to work. She emptied her bucket, washed out the cloth and put them away, before joining Charlotte.

  They stripped and made up the bed and continued with their chores until Mr Mordikai turned up to request Hannah’s presence in Matron’s office. Sister Trim looked worried when she excused herself from the ward.

  ‘How is the situation on the Lettsom, Nurse Bentley?’ Mrs Knowles asked.

  ‘To what situation are you referring?’ Hannah chose her words carefully.

  ‘There’s more than one?’ Matron raised one eyebrow before smiling. ‘I want to know how having an extra bed on the ward is affecting you and the other nurses. I need as much ammunition as possible for the next meeting of the Board. Mr Cumberpatch is preparing his weapons and I must do the same.’

  ‘We have coped as you would expect, but this situation can’t continue long-term because it will wear us all out.’

  ‘I have high hopes for at least two, if not three extra nurses,’ Mrs Knowles said. ‘And I’m about to make some other changes, which I can’t reveal at present. Suffice to say that with Sister Murch talking of moving to Brighton to be near her invalid mother, there will be a vacancy on one of the men’s wards, and I’m thinking that, after my visit from a rather irate Mrs Crowborough, Sister Trim would be well suited to it … Her tact and diplomacy would keep the gentlemen in line.’

  She was being sarcastic, Hannah realised, her heart beating a little faster at the prospect of promotion, or was Matron intending to promote one of the new nurses to Sister of the Lettsom?

  ‘Please, don’t say anything to her,’ Matron continued. ‘I haven’t quite made up my mind.’ She changed the subject. ‘How is your sister?’

  ‘She is well, thank you.’

  ‘I don’t like to interfere or seem presumptuous, but if she’s looking for occupation, we’re always in need of lady volunteers here, as you know.’

  Hannah wished she’d thought of it before. It seemed the perfect solution to Ruby’s complaints that she was alone all day.

  ‘I’m sorry about your friend and colleague, Miss Huckstep. I hope she makes a full recovery very soon.’

  Hannah thanked her and returned to the ward where a new boy was already sitting up in the additional bed.

  ‘What was it? What did Matron say?’ Sister Trim asked, rushing across to meet her.

  ‘She wanted to find out how we managed with the extra patient.’

  ‘Why didn’t she ask me? I’m Sister of this ward. Oh, don’t say – you are Matron’s pet.’

  ‘It’s to our advantage,’ Hannah said. ‘I told her what I thought, that we’ll struggle if it continues.’

 
‘Oh no, that won’t do, Nurse Bentley. That won’t do at all. You are making me appear in the worst possible light. I’ve explained to her that we are coping magnificently. There are moves afoot to bring in new staff, and I don’t want Matron thinking that I can’t run this ward to the standard she expects.’

  Hannah didn’t want to argue with her, but she was wrong.

  ‘Hasn’t it occurred to you that they’re taking advantage of our good nature and willingness to help our patients?’ she began. ‘If we say everything is well, what is to stop them bringing another two or three beds on to the ward? We should stand up for ourselves, our working conditions and our standards.’

  Sister Trim’s nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed. If she could breathe fire, she would, Hannah thought, but she refused to back down.

  ‘We’re on the same side,’ she added.

  ‘You’re right about that,’ Sister Trim agreed. ‘We shouldn’t be standing around here talking politics – as you can see, they’ve already filled the extra bed. I’ll introduce you to Master Darke.’

  Samuel was eleven and suffering from scrofula of the right elbow. Hannah read through the notes that one of the physicians had made while admitting him through outpatients.

  ‘I see you’re from Canterbury,’ she said when Sister Trim had gone.

  ‘My father has a shop, selling high-wheelers and tricycles – you can buy one, if you like.’

  ‘They are for young men who wish to show off,’ Hannah smiled, recalling how she’d seen someone come a cropper, falling from his bicycle headfirst. ‘It would be most unladylike and impractical.’ How would one stop one’s skirt becoming entangled in the wheels?

  ‘What could be better to impress one’s friends and acquaintances?’ the boy went on, his hazel eyes glittering in his thin, pixie-like face.

  ‘I for one would rather not break my wrists, falling from a velocipede,’ Hannah said, ‘but I admire your sales patter.

  ‘Charlie,’ she called. ‘Would you come and sit with Samuel here? Perhaps you’d like to read to him.’

  Pleased to be wanted, Charlie came over, carrying one of the books from the bookshelf. He perched on the edge of Samuel’s bed and the next thing Hannah heard was the two boys chuckling together, as thick as thieves, while the book lay unread on the blanket.