by Evie Grace
‘What about his hands?’ Hannah asked.
‘There was an accident – his nanny let him too close to the fire …’ James shuddered visibly. ‘I can’t imagine—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘Never mind – Ronald’s scars have healed.’
He continued through the ward, examining every patient before he left. When he had gone, Hannah called for Nurse May and showed her how to bathe Ronald’s eyes, after which he was sick, and Nurse May had to clear it up.
‘It’s another one of those rites of passage.’ Hannah smiled kindly.
‘I hope there aren’t going to be too many more.’ Holding the sick bowl and cloths at arm’s length, Nurse May scurried away to the sluice as Ruby entered the ward.
Hannah called her sister to her and introduced their new patient.
‘Shall I take him next?’ Ruby asked.
‘I don’t need a bath,’ Ronald said. ‘I ’ad one last week.’
‘This is no ordinary bath,’ Ruby said, bending down to his level. ‘The water comes straight from the sea.’
‘Does it ’ave crabs in it? I don’t like their pinchers.’
‘There are no crabs, no fish, no monsters,’ Ruby confirmed.
‘What about shrimp?’
‘I couldn’t say,’ she teased.
‘I’m afraid we’ll have to leave the bath for today. You’ll have one tomorrow, Ronald.’ Worried for him, Hannah sent for Doctor Clifton again later that morning.
‘You were right to send for me,’ he said. ‘Delay giving the medicine until I’ve seen him again tomorrow.’
When midday came, Hannah excused herself and left the ward, passing Mr Allspice who was lying on a trolley on the balcony, bragging about his act to a tattooed sailor who’d lost his leg. Smoke from their pipes drifted into the air, spreading the sweet scent of tobacco.
‘I expect you’ve ’eard I’m goin’ ’ome today. I don’t know ’ow I’m goin’ to keep my littluns fed and watered, but the Amazin’ Aerial Ajax will find a way.’
‘I’d ’ave liked to ’ave seen you flyin’ through the air,’ the sailor said.
‘Any chance of a house call, Sister Bentley?’ Mr Allspice leered.
She said nothing. It was a shame he’d taken advantage of their goodwill.
She continued on to the boardroom and knocked on the door.
‘Go on in,’ Matron said from behind her. ‘We’re early. Mr Phillips has been delayed by a quarter of an hour.’ They sat waiting until the meeting was convened with the chairman, Mr Cumberpatch and the treasurer in attendance.
‘Mrs Knowles, I believe this meeting has been called to discuss funding for an extra nurse,’ Mr Phillips said. ‘How much money do we have available for this purpose?’ He addressed the treasurer who slid a hefty book across the table and tapped at a figure halfway down the open pages. Mr Phillips put on his spectacles and raised his eyebrows. ‘I see.’
‘Mr Phillips, if I may speak,’ Mr Cumberpatch said ponderously. ‘Any extraneous funds have been earmarked for redecorating the offices and splint room where Mr Brightside is in need of shelves and cupboards.’
‘When you say “offices”, you mean your office, don’t you?’ Mrs Knowles said.
‘Matron, I refer to offices in general.’ Mr Cumberpatch scowled, his cheeks florid and fat. ‘You have more than enough staff – when I walk through the house with my clipboard, listing everything that requires my attention, I see nurses wandering back and forth as though they have all the time in the world. I hear chattering and laughter from the sluices, and on a sunny day, they are all out on the balcony, taking the air with the patients.’
Mrs Knowles stood up, leaning her hands on the table to berate him.
‘You will take that back, Superintendent,’ she snapped.
‘I speak the truth!’ Hannah noticed how the buttons on his brown coat were popping open one by one across his ample chest as his annoyance grew.
‘My nurses work hard, much harder than you, sir. They’re disciplined, responsible—’
‘They take every chance to put their feet up while your back is turned.’
‘That’s nonsense and you know it. One nurse does the work of ten of you.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, this should be a simple case of allocating resources according to priority,’ Mr Phillips sighed.
‘That’s correct,’ Matron jumped in. ‘The decoration of an office can wait, but an extra nurse – well, that is a matter of life and death.’
‘You’re exaggerating,’ Mr Cumberpatch exclaimed.
‘I would appreciate your silence while I ask Sister Bentley what she thinks,’ Mr Phillips said. ‘Sit down, Mrs Knowles.’
Hannah cleared her throat. ‘The nurses on my ward – the Lettsom – are on their feet for more than twelve hours a day. Not only are they responsible for the care of our patients, some of whom are incapacitated and unable to do anything for themselves, but they liaise with the doctors—’
‘I’ve heard about that,’ the Superintendent cut in.
Mr Phillips banged his gavel against the table. ‘Go on.’
‘They keep the ward clean, scrubbing the floors every day, polishing the windows every week.’
‘Woe is me.’ Mr Cumberpatch yawned.
‘If you interrupt once more, I will have to ask you to leave,’ Mr Phillips frowned. ‘Sister …’
‘We’ve been very grateful for the staffing kindly given by the Board in response to the allocation of an extra bed, but we can always do with more.’ Hannah looked towards Mrs Knowles who took over.
‘You may be aware that Miss Huckstep, a patient here, has been volunteering on the wards, and it won’t be long before she’s looking for a place. We can’t afford to lose such an experienced’ – she glared at Mr Cumberpatch – ‘and conscientious nurse to another establishment. Compared with the cost of running this house, a nurse’s wage is a drop in the ocean.’
Mr Phillips turned to the treasurer, who nodded.
‘Motion passed,’ Mr Phillips said.
‘But this must go before the whole Board. We haven’t had a proper debate,’ Mr Cumberpatch protested.
Mr Phillips looked down his nose. ‘This house cannot exist without nurses. It will survive the want of a lick of paint and a few shelves.’
‘That went well. I hope you were watching and learning, Sister,’ Mrs Knowles said as they walked back along the corridor. ‘I’ll give Miss Huckstep the good news.’
They parted outside Matron’s quarters, and Hannah headed for the dining hall. What had she meant about her watching and learning? Did that mean she was encouraging her in her ambition to progress? It was a promising sign.
Chapter Eighteen
An Ounce of Prevention is Better than a Pound of Cure
Ronald’s condition stabilised and various other patients came and went. Ruby’s sickness wore off and she settled into the routine, even going as far as expressing a wish that one day she would work in the splint room with Mr Brightside. Hannah was glad for quieter times, which lasted until the middle of December when the excitement on the ward grew to a fever pitch.
It was two days before Christmas when a brief flurry of snow settled on Margate. The cold pierced her bones and her face felt as if it might crack as she walked to work in the dark with Ruby. On the Lettsom, Ronald was still undergoing treatment and showing some improvement, although he had days when he fell silent and hadn’t the energy even to smile. Doctor Clifton was worried that the scrofula had spread, forming tubercles in his lungs, but Hannah preferred to remain optimistic.
That morning, she sent the patients outside as usual.
‘I don’t want to go outside,’ Ronald said. ‘Ma says I’ll get a chill and die of the pneumonia.’
‘You have to sit out for the good of your health.’ Even if she thought he’d be better off indoors, Mrs Knowles wouldn’t have it. ‘Matron says that all our patients must be exposed to the four winds in all weathers.’
Ronald frowned and scratched his h
ead. ‘The only shelter is the veranda. How can I lie outside when there’s snow falling on my blankets?’
‘We’ll shake it off,’ she smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll find you a hot water bottle.’
Even so, after an hour, Nurse May came to inform her that Ronald was suffering, almost insensible and unable to speak, his nose and fingers blue with cold and his teeth chattering.
‘Oh dear,’ Hannah said. ‘Then you must bring him inside, but say he’s coming in for his medicine – I don’t want a mutiny in the ranks.’
‘It’s a little ironic that we ask the patients to sit out in the cold, while Mr Cumberpatch has allowed the fitting of a double layer of glass in the windows facing the sea, and the wards to be heated by steam,’ Nurse May observed.
‘It is, but who are we to argue? Please deal with Ronald and carry on with your chores.’ Hannah saw Doctor Clifton at the entrance to the ward with Mr Mordikai who was pushing a trolley. She waved them in.
‘This is Master Jackson,’ he said, introducing her to the boy on the trolley. ‘Oliver is coming to stay with us for a while.’
Hannah looked down at the boy. He was about eight years old, tall and bony with his skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. His eyelids were drooping, and his blonde hair fell around his shoulders in ringlets.
‘He has a marked curvature of the lower spine, he’s in constant pain and, although he can walk, his mobility is limited. His previous physician has had him on opium. I’m planning to wean him on to a lower dose. As you can see, he’s half asleep.’
Mr Mordikai turned and left the ward.
‘Good morning, Master Jackson,’ Hannah said gently, but he made no response.
Doctor Clifton gave her an enquiring look. ‘Will you be attending the wedding or are you on duty on Christmas Day?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to have an hour or two off – Charlotte will never forgive me if I miss it.’
‘I’ll be there, and I’ll stay for as long as my patients allow. I’ll see you tomorrow – I’ll be here in the morning for rounds. Oh, I meant to tell you. I’ve admitted Mrs Phillips to the house – she’s suffering from a mysterious malaise.’
‘You mean she’s still pursuing you.’
‘There’s no need to look so discombobulated – I thought I was a good catch.’
She couldn’t help it – the more she tried not to blush, the hotter she felt. She had begun to think that she was cured of her infatuation, but it seemed that she’d had a relapse.
‘Thank you, Doctor,’ she said, before calling Nurse May over and asking her to take on Oliver’s care.
‘He’ll be easy to manage if he sleeps all the time,’ Nurse May observed.
‘It’s the opium,’ Hannah explained. ‘You’ll need to keep him under close observation.’
The boy opened his eyes and sat up abruptly, muttering and waving his fists, as if he was suffering from night terrors. Nurse May took a step back and stared.
‘No, no, that won’t do. You must reassure him.’
‘I haven’t seen a patient do this before.’
‘If it’s upsetting for you, imagine how it feels for him,’ Hannah said. ‘He’s lost in his own world, but if you speak kindly, he’ll hear you and respond. Oliver, all is well. This is Nurse May who’ll be looking after you.’ The boy began to settle, and his breathing steadied.
‘Where am I?’ he said eventually, gazing around the ward.
‘You’re at the infirmary,’ Hannah said. ‘Nurse May will take you out to the balcony and show you the sea.’
‘What about my chores?’ she whispered. ‘I’m overwhelmed … I don’t know how I’ll manage when Nurse Finch leaves.’
‘Think of it as a chance to learn self-reliance, not depend on other people. Nurse May, you’ve done very well, but you’re exhausted. It will do you good to go home for a while.’
She nodded through tears. ‘I miss my family.’
‘Will your father be there, or is he still at sea?’ Hannah asked kindly.
‘His ship returned to Folkestone last Tuesday. I can’t wait to see him. My brothers and sisters are due to visit on Boxing Day, so we can all be together again.’
Hannah recalled family Christmases at home with Ruby and her half-brothers, the occasion when she had found the silver sixpence in the plum pudding and Pa had taken it away and given it to Christopher. Although she’d argued that the wealth and good luck afforded to the finder wouldn’t necessarily travel with the coin, Pa had given her the iciest stare and told her she should be pleased to donate her good fortune to her half-brother. Since she’d been spending the festive season on the wards, she’d had much more fun.
‘I hope you have a wonderful time,’ she said.
‘What about you, Sister? Don’t you want to go home?’
‘I have Ruby with me, and I count the staff and patients of this house as my family. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else on Christmas Day, and besides, who will look after the boys when you aren’t here?’ She changed the subject. ‘It’s Charlotte’s last day today – I’ve arranged for Cook to send a cake to the ward and I’ve hidden a small gift in the cupboard in the sluice.’
That afternoon, having made sure that Ronald and Oliver were as comfortable as possible, sitting up in their adjacent beds, Hannah announced that they were having a small celebration to thank Nurse Finch for her contribution to the Lettsom during the past few years.
‘Oh no.’ Charlotte covered her face with her hands. ‘I don’t want a great send-off.’
‘But you must have one,’ Hannah said. ‘We can’t let this event go unmarked. Will one of you boys fetch a chair for Nurse Finch?’
Ronald put his hand up and slid out of bed. He collected a chair from the end of the ward and put it in the middle.
‘Nurse Finch, please sit down,’ Hannah said. ‘Nurse May, would you kindly fetch our gift while I wheel in the cake?’
‘Cake? There’s goin’ to be cake!’ one of the boys cried.
‘Hurrah!’ Ronald shouted.
‘Hush,’ Hannah smiled. ‘I don’t want the whole infirmary to hear, otherwise we’ll have to share …’ She fetched the cake which the kitchen maid had left on a trolley in the corridor: a large fruit cake with marzipan and icing, and a message reading ‘Good Luck!’ By the time she reached the middle of the ward, all the boys who were able, were out of their beds, mobbing Nurse Finch. Ben, the littlest one, scrambled on to her lap.
‘I’d like to say a few words,’ Hannah said as Nurse May returned. ‘Firstly, I’d like to thank Nurse Finch for her work on this ward. She’s been a wonderful nurse to her patients, and a great friend and support to her colleagues. We’ve shared good, and not so good, times.’ She remembered the patients who had left much improved, and Peter whom they had lost. ‘I’m very sad that Doctor Hunter is taking her away from us, but I wish them every happiness.’
‘Where’s he takin’ her?’ Ronald asked.
‘You mustn’t interrupt while Sister’s talking,’ Nurse May cut in as she handed a small package to Oliver.
‘It’s all right,’ Hannah smiled.
‘We’re getting married,’ Charlotte said, with Ben clinging to her. ‘I won’t be going far away – in fact, I’ll come and visit the infirmary as often as I can.’
‘Here’s a present for you.’ Oliver offered the gift.
‘Thank you. You shouldn’t have.’ Charlotte glanced towards Hannah and smiled.
‘Open it,’ Ronald said impatiently.
‘I’m going to need scissors to cut that knot.’
Nurse May fetched them and handed them over, laying them flat in the palm of her hand. Charlotte snipped the string and opened the package.
‘Fudge and peppermints, my favourites, and drawings.’ She looked up at the boys. ‘Did you do these?’
‘We did,’ Ronald said.
‘Who is this?’ Charlotte held up one of the drawings, a picture of a lady in a tiara and gown.
‘It’s you – beca
use you’re like a princess,’ Ronald said.
The boys applauded as Charlotte thanked them and Hannah took a knife and sliced the cake into ragged pieces.
‘You’d never make a surgeon,’ Charlotte chuckled.
‘I’m a nurse – I wouldn’t want to be anything else,’ Hannah said, handing her a plate.
‘I’ll miss the camaraderie on the ward, but I won’t miss the bedpans – or the leeches.’ Charlotte let Ben down and tucked in to her slice of cake.
‘We’d better be getting on.’ Hannah glanced at the clock. ‘Look at all these crumbs. Nurse May, I’m afraid you’ll have to do the floors again.’
‘I won’t miss all the sweeping and scrubbing either,’ Charlotte said as Nurse May began to clear up, shooing the boys away.
‘What will you do all day?’ Hannah asked.
‘I’ll keep our housekeeper in order, look after my husband and enlist as a lady volunteer.’ Her eyes twinkled with humour. ‘I may even put my feet up for an hour or two. Imagine having time to read a book or go shopping!’
‘Won’t you find it rather quiet?’
‘I’m going to take up sea bathing in the summer, and dancing in the winter. Seriously, though, I’m going to be the best wife I can be. Henry deserves that – he’s worked very hard and against his natural inclination because studying isn’t easy for him. To my shame, there were times when I doubted that he’d ever become a physician, but his cousin always had faith in him. Hannah, I wish … Oh, it doesn’t matter. You have set your chosen course. Everyone says that one day you’ll be matron of this house.’
On Christmas morning, Hannah and Ruby hurried to the infirmary in the dark, Hannah dressed in her uniform and Ruby in her Sunday best. There was no bathing to be done today, so Ruby was acting as a lady volunteer, having decided that she couldn’t bear to be alone.
‘It’ll be like old times on the ward,’ Hannah said. ‘Alice and I are looking after the patients who can’t go home to be with their families.’
