May pointed out the imposing blocks of St Thomas’ Hospital on the other side of the river. Ellen gazed with interest, then spoke firmly.
‘Well, it looks more impressive than ours, but I’m sure St Katharine’s is better. Now, which House is which? I do wish we could go inside – I suppose you’ve been in, you are lucky, May!’
They circled round the Palace of Westminster, Ellen moving in a series of quick rushes and sudden stops, neck craned, quite impervious to where she was going. May stood still to have a good look at the Westminster Hospital opposite – after all, she had seen the Houses of Parliament before. At the moment she found hospitals far more interesting – it did look very cramped, it must be quite dark inside some of the wards. Just then she heard Ellen’s clear, light voice raised in a flurry of apologies.
‘Oh dear, I am so sorry, it was entirely my fault – do let me brush your hat down for you, it’s only a little mud.’
With a sinking heart May realised that her friend had cannoned into a gentleman alighting from a hansom, and instead of passing on with a slight bow she was actually chattering to him! Ellen really was far too countrified sometimes. May was stepping forward to take charge when she realised that there was something familiar about the slight, well-groomed back in front of her, and as he turned in her direction she recognised the small, neat features and saw that the man politely struggling with Ellen for the control of his headwear was Lord Hindlesham. Good, she might be able to make Ellen’s wish come true after all, providing the latter had done no irreparable damage to his glossy black top hat! May moved forward with hand outstretched.
‘Lord Hindlesham, what a pleasant surprise.’
Lord Hindlesham momentarily released his hold on the hat, which Ellen seized triumphantly and began to dust down with her pocket handkerchief, and stared in amazement at May for a second; then his good manners reasserted themselves and he seized her gloved hand and shook it heartily.
‘Miss Winton – I didn’t recognise you at first in your uniform. So you went ahead with your decision: you really are nursing!’
May blushed. ‘Well, I’m doing the work of a scullerymaid at the moment, though I am occasionally allowed near a patient! But please, do let me introduce my friend, Miss Ellen Carter, who is also a probationer at St Katharine’s – Miss Carter, Lord Hindlesham.’
Ellen’s eyes were a rounded ‘Oh’ as she heard the title, and for a dreadful moment May thought she was going to ask Lord Hindlesham to remove his glossy boots so that she could inspect his feet for cloven hooves, but she restrained herself, smiled prettily and held out her hand.
‘Good afternoon – would you like your hat back? The dent is only a very little one.’
May noticed Lord Hindlesham’s lips twitch, but his voice was quite steady as he replied, ‘It’s of no consequence. Indeed, I’m grateful for the mischance which has brought us all together. And now, please, may I escort you anywhere?’
Ellen looked hopefully at May and the latter replied with decision.
‘Yes, if you would be so kind. Miss Carter would very much like to see inside the House of Lords.’ She could not resist adding, ‘She has made a particular study of the subject.’
Ellen blushed, then leant forward and spoke confidingly to Lord Hindlesham.
‘My father often talks of you all, he thinks your House should be abolished and all peers should be banished utterly from the counsels of government – in the interests of democracy, of course; he has no personal animosity,’ she added reassuringly.
May could only be thankful that it was Lord Hindlesham they had bumped into, rather than Uncle Bertie who, though rarely gracing the Upper Chamber with his presence, would have gone to the guillotine in defence of his right to do so. Nor was the Marquis of Andover noted for his sense of humour, whereas Lord Hindlesham appeared to be amused by Ellen’s wholesale condemnation. He beamed at her, saying, ‘Then, Miss Carter, I insist on showing you round while there is still time, since imminent dissolution is threatened. Perhaps I may even be able to overcome your principles and prevail on you to take tea with me? Come along.’
As Lord Hindlesham led the way in, Ellen turned to May and whispered, ‘What sort of Lord is he?’
May hissed back, ‘An Earl.’
‘Goodness, yet he seems so nice!’
Lord Hindlesham had clearly overheard. He looked back with a smiling face. ‘I shall have to point out a Duke to you, Miss Carter, so you can see that even he has neither horns nor a forked tail!’
May was pleased to see that at this uncanny prescience Ellen went beetroot red and was temporarily silenced.
Their tour completed, Lord Hindlesham took them for the promised tea. Over their cups of fragrant Earl Grey he became more serious, and began to question them more closely about their recent experiences.
‘St Katharine’s is in Poplar, isn’t it? The Labour Member for Woolwich, Mr Crooks, has often spoken in the Lower House of the conditions there. What has struck you particularly, as newcomers to the East End?’
May hesitated. ‘We’ve only been there a couple of months, you know.’
‘Nevertheless, that is two months longer than any of us here.’ His gesture encompassed the small number of his fellow peers who were placidly occupied in chewing their way through buttered crumpets and strawberry jam. ‘What are your first impressions? I don’t suppose you’ve stayed in the hospital all day.’
May and Ellen glanced at each other, then in turn they painted verbal pictures of what they had seen in their off-duty times. May had tended to walk westward: she described the looming walls of the London Dock, overshadowing and cutting off light from all the streets around, in which drunken men lurched from one dingy public house to another; and where she had once peered into an opium den – a dull, dispiriting place, but an opium den nonetheless.
Ellen had not gone so far afield; she had ventured down the narrow streets near the hospital. ‘Some are quite nice, you know, with flowers in window boxes and friendly cats sitting sunning themselves on doorsteps, but others,’ – she shuddered, – ‘the children look so pinched and pale, and they have no coats, or even shoes, sometimes, and their noses run and they have sores on their faces.’ Then she stopped, and her face was serious as she gazed straight at their host.
‘I don’t know whether you are a Liberal or a Tory, Lord Hindlesham, but I am a Socialist, and I don’t think either of you care much for these people.’
There was a silence, and May held her breath.
Lord Hindlesham’s face was as grave as Ellen’s as he looked back at her. But when he spoke his voice was gentle.
‘Believe me, Miss Carter, some of us do care. But the machinery of government is complicated, and there are many conflicting interests to be reconciled.’
Then Ellen said, the country burr in her voice very pronounced, ‘But I don’t suppose your children go hungry to school.’ She pushed her chair back and was on her feet before Lord Hindlesham could rise, and with a muttered, ‘I’m sorry, it’s rather hot in here, I will go and look at the river,’ she slipped through the door and out onto the terrace.
May felt acute embarrassment. Lord Hindlesham was gazing after the retreating figure, his face unreadable. As he slowly resumed his seat, May spoke.
‘I am so sorry, I must apologise for Ellen, she comes from a different background, her father is only a country station-master, she does not always realise…’ May’s voice trailed off as Lord Hindlesham turned and leant towards her.
‘Miss Winton, May, until very recently you have lived amongst a very small group of people, a highly privileged group who think that they are right, and those who differ from them are wrong. Now, since by your own courage and initiative you have broken away, don’t spoil this opportunity by clinging to the same narrow prejudices. Don’t be ashamed of your friend: her views are valid ones, and she has the right to express them openly, whatever company she is in.’
May bowed her head over her empty plate.
Lord Hindlesham’s voice was kind. ‘Dear me, now I have distressed two young ladies. Come along, let’s go and find your friend on the terrace.’
May forced a smile. ‘We had better, before she overbalances and falls into the river in her anxiety not to miss any detail of each passing tugboat.’
As soon as they were outside Ellen came running to meet them, her face alight. ‘Do look, May, you can see the little white caps of the nurses in the windows of St Thomas’. Do you think the men working in the Docks can see us in the same way?’ Then she turned to Lord Hindlesham. ‘First I almost knock you over, then I kidnap your hat, and now I have insulted your political beliefs – and you have been so kind – can you forgive me?’
Lord Hindlesham’s serious mood evaporated in seconds. ‘Political insults are meat and drink to us peers, you know; this is the place for them.’ He smiled at Ellen. ‘The pleasure has been mine, Miss Carter, and in return – yes, there he is, look, that gentleman who’s just come out of the far door – there is a real live Duke for you!’
May recognised the short, fat, red-faced figure of the Duke of Dorset, clutching a cigar almost as fat as himself. Ellen gazed at him intently.
‘Which one is he?’ she whispered to Lord Hindlesham. When he told her she looked again. ‘He’s rather small, isn’t he?’
Lord Hindlesham drew himself up and balanced on the balls of his feet, murmuring, ‘Some of us lords aren’t quite full size, you know,’ then laughed at Ellen’s confusion. ‘Shall I introduce you? I think May has met him before.’
Ellen shook her head. ‘No, I think an Earl is quite enough for one day – my father would never forgive me if I spoke to a Duke as well. Oh, May, the time!’ as Big Ben boomed above them. ‘We’ll be late for the lecture!’
‘Goodness, it took us ages to get here.’ May pulled her cloak around her. ‘I’m so sorry, Lord Hindlesham, we must rush off – you’ve no idea how strict they are – we get black marks if we’re just a minute late for breakfast.’
Lord Hindlesham ushered them swiftly through the House. At the front entrance he said, ‘I’ll ask the man to call a cab to take you back, then you’ll be in good time.’
But as May opened her mouth to give a grateful assent Ellen broke in, ‘Thank you very much, but that would be rather poor-spirited of us, we must learn to find our own way about. I shall ask the policeman.’ And she approached the enormous moustached bobby on duty outside the door.
May and Lord Hindlesham exchanged rueful grins and waited.
Ellen was soon back, her face cheerful. ‘It’s all right, May, we can go on the underground railway, all the way to Aldgate.’
May immediately perked up. ‘Oh, good – I’ve never been on one of those. But won’t we get horribly dirty?’
Ellen shook her head. ‘No, that’s the best of it. He says all the trains on that route are electric now, and it’s nice and clean. Thank you so much, Lord Hindlesham, I have enjoyed our visit.’
Lord Hindlesham insisted on escorting them across the road and into the station and buying their tickets, then there was a subterranean rumble and May jumped for the stairs, closely followed by a panting Ellen.
As they collapsed onto their seats Ellen turned to May. ‘Well, what an exciting afternoon, you do have some interesting friends. Isn’t Lord Hindlesham kind? Do you know his wife as well? Is she as nice as he is?’
‘I know her slightly,’ May replied cautiously. ‘She is very beautiful.’
‘Oh, he isn’t good looking at all, is he? But he’s got a nice smile, just like a friendly monkey.’ Ellen glanced sideways at May. ‘But you haven’t answered my question about her – or have you?’ And May remembered that for all her ingenuousness Ellen could be disconcertingly shrewd at times.
Ellen said now, ‘I’m sorry, he deserves better. Look, May, we’ve come out into the daylight – what a cheat, it’s supposed to be an underground railway!’
May laughed aloud at Ellen’s indignation, and realised that she had not enjoyed herself so much since before Emily’s marriage.
Chapter Thirteen
By early December a whole tableful of new probationers had arrived and May and her friends no longer ate next to the wall. Bates had been sent to the Nurses’ Sick Bay with a poisoned finger – Sister Simeon had been very annoyed about this and had berated poor Bates for her carelessness – but May felt a guilty pleasure on hearing the news since she knew it would mean her promotion to Pro Four.
Smith, the new Pro Five duly arrived and proved to be a stolid, freckle-faced girl who was the eldest of a large family and already knew how to use a broom and tealeaves. May’s efforts to be patronisingly helpful were met with blank stares, but so, she noticed, was the friendly banter of the men, and May was incensed one day when Smith, unusually communicative, said that she could have managed to get through the work very well if only there were no patients. ‘They seem to expect us to run round after them all the time!’ Her voice was aggrieved. May’s retort, ‘But that’s what we’re here for!’ was met with a look of incomprehension and Smith turned back to her brass taps which, May had to admit, gleamed with a glassy sparkle she had never been able to achieve.
The world outside the East End consisted almost entirely of letters: letters from India which were so resolutely cheerful that May shut herself in the Nurses’ Library for a whole afternoon, and came out feeling coldly apprehensive. And it was clear from Lady Clarence’s weekly epistles that some of the same fears were in her mind. There was a scrawl from Archie, written on a wet day in the Shires, to say that the hunting was disappointing this year, how was she going on, and had she chopped off any legs yet? Old George was here and said he’d seen May at the House with her pretty friend and when was he, Archie, going to meet all those pretty friends?!! May laughed and tossed it to Ellen to read. The latter had blushed and returned it without comment.
Then Lady Andover had written to say that she would be in Town for a few days from the third and she was looking forward to seeing May. May was delighted; she had seen nothing of her family, apart from a hurried hour with her father, when he had come up on business and been totally uncomprehending as to why his daughter’s presence was required back in Poplar, when he thought she should have been available to lunch with him. As always in the autumn, London had been empty, while the annual round of shooting parties and Scottish visits had gone on without her; she had had no time for more than the odd regret, though she rather wished Archie had run into ‘old Harry’ instead of ‘old George’. Now, however, the sight of her grandmother’s elegant, spiky handwriting suddenly brought her life before September back into sharp focus and put her quite out of patience with the usual Monday supper of porridge and cold sausage.
Her half-day off was due and Sister Simeon, unlike some of the other Sisters, always tried to give good notice of the event, and then keep to it, so May was able to write back to her grandmother with a firm date for an afternoon visit followed by a quiet family dinner. The very thought of one of Chefs meals made her mouth water; the Dock Road faggots were more satisfying to the stomach than the palate.
As she changed for her visit, the soft material of her dress felt strange under her roughened fingertips, and she scarcely recognised herself in her close-fitting gown of blue silk; while the upward sweep of her velvet brim, with the long ostrich feather nestling against her shining hair below it gave her face a delicate fragility, so that in the mirror she saw a stranger, elegant and pampered. She strolled over to the main entrance in the thin December sun, the ungainly scuttle of the last three months put aside with her blue striped galatea, and sat straight-backed and demure in the cab which the tortoise himself had summoned for her. It was delightful to feel like a young lady of leisure again.
Lady Andover was gracefully welcoming, but her gaze was searching as she surveyed May from head to foot.
‘At least you have not lost your looks, my dear, living in that terrible slum, but,’ as May removed her gloves, ‘what have you been doing with you
r hands?’
‘Washing hundreds of bedpans, Grandmamma.’ May’s answer was short and to the point.
Melicent Andover raised her eyebrows in horror. ‘My dear, you can’t be serious, suppose you catch something!’
‘Well, I haven’t done yet,’ May replied cheerfully. ‘Now, tell me how everyone’s getting on – is Bertie any nearer to proposing to Louise yet? And has Archie finally decided whether to join the Guards? I’m sure he’ll never really do it, he’s too lazy – and how is Papa, and Step-mamma?’
The afternoon passed in an agreeable sparkle of gossip while May enjoyed to the full the pleasures of being waited upon. She noticed as she never had before the noiseless drawing of the curtains, the unobtrusive feeding of the fire and the silent arrival of the tea equipage. She was savouring the delicate smoky fragrance of the Lapsang Souchong in its porcelain cup – how terribly fragile the fine china seemed! – when her sharp ears caught the distant ring of the doorbell and the subdued bustle of a visitor being admitted. She glanced in surprise at her grandmother, who had certainly given her the impression that they would have an undisturbed afternoon together – ‘just the two of us my dear, so we can have a nice feminine gossip’ – and noticed an expression of innocence which was so carefully assumed as to arouse all May’s suspicions. The mystery was soon solved when Lofthouse himself announced: ‘Mr Cussons, M’lady,’ and a familiar, broad-shouldered figure appeared in the doorway.
‘Why, Harry, what a surprise!’ Lady Andover’s tone of amazement would have done credit to an experienced actress, but May was not deceived – especially as Harry Cussons, when coming forward to greet her grandmother, winked in her direction.
‘Melicent, how do you do it? While the rest of us add years, you shed them! And Miss Winton, why, you have become quite the mystery maiden amongst us, dire rumours of durance vile in foreign climes have reached our ears – were it not for Hindlesham’s reported sighting last month we would have quite given you up for lost!’ He held her hand a fraction longer than was necessary before releasing it. ‘Certainly your incarceration seems not to have had any ill effects, quite the contrary, she looks blooming, doesn’t she Melicent?’
Mayfair Rebel Page 12
