‘One child,’ May managed to get in.
‘The number is immaterial. You’re encouraging begging, undermining their self-respect, you patronise – and, what’s more, you aided and abetted law-breaking! To you they’re nothing but performing animals, putting on a show for your benefit. You’re no better than an ancient Roman, cheering as they throw Christians to the lions! Can’t you understand?’
This time he paused for a fraction too long; May had her chance. ‘I understand one thing, Sir, and that is when they throw you to the lions I’ll be cheering with the best of them! I will not stay here to be insulted, unhand me, now!’
For a moment the young man looked startled, then he drew breath for more, but suddenly a thin form materialised beside them.
May exclaimed, ‘Ellen, wherever have you been?’ Her voice was reproachful. Before Ellen could reply the clergyman dropped her elbow as though it were red-hot.
Raising his hat he said coldly, ‘Since your maid has returned I will leave you, Madam.’ He strode quickly off.
Ellen was indignant. ‘Your maid! This is my best outfit – who does he think he is?’
The only reply May could think of was so near to blasphemy that she stayed silent, shaking with fury.
‘You do look angry, May, your eyes are flashing and your bosom is actually heaving – just like the wronged heroine of a melodrama!’
‘Then he’s the villain,’ was the reply through gritted teeth.
‘He can’t be, May, he’s a clergyman – and very good-looking. He must be the hero, I’m sure – oh, May, perhaps he’s the tall dark stranger promised in your fortune!’
May spoke fiercely. ‘If he is, then that’s the very last time I’m ever buying my fortune!’
Chapter Twenty Five
During the next few weeks, as she bathed a collapsed old woman whose body had clearly not been touched by water for several years, chasing the jumping fleas with a bar of soap and a smart flick of her wrist; or as she carefully sieved the malodorous faeces of a patient whose recovery Dr Rawlings believed was being impeded by worms, May frequently thought of the angry words of the young clergyman. As she demonstrated to Nurse Pearson how to change the bedlinen of an incontinent patient, ‘Don’t worry at all, Mrs Adelman, it’s quite normal after your operation – we’ll soon have you clean and dry,’ she composed witty and crushing ripostes in her mind, and imagined his mortified expression as she delivered them. And where had his suit been made, she asked herself angrily? If it hadn’t come from the same tailor who was used by Cousin Bertie and Harry Cussons she would be very surprised. Whatever he’d done for the inhabitants of the East End she was sure he’d not emptied their bedpans or deloused their hair or nursed their dying children.
Sister Martha’s voice interrupted. ‘I like to see lockers clean, Nurse Winton, but there is no necessity to remove the varnish.’
May murmured, ‘Sorry, Sister,’ and moderated her energy.
At least she had the satisfaction of knowing that despite the young man’s importunate rifling of her muff , her diversionary tactics had paid off. Ellen had got Mrs Jones clean away, and Dolly, discovering via the mysterious bush telegraph of the East End May’s part in events had expressed her heart-felt gratitude. There had been a gleam of spirit in her eye as she told May of her mother’s return home, clutching a fistful of Big Liza’s hair. ‘Dad was clean bowled over, Nurse, said ’e never believed she ’ad it in ’er.’ Dolly didn’t say whether the rape of Liza’s brassy locks had cooled Billy’s ardour, May hoped for the best.
In any case, Dolly was definitely on the mend, her recovery aided by the unexpected collapse of the young girl in the next bed, who had come in for what should have been an uncomplicated appendix operation and had finished up with blood-poisoning. May and Staff Lee had spent some anxious times with Hetty Barnes. At one point the girl seemed to lose heart altogether and it was Dolly who had given constant encouragement, and persuaded Hetty to fight back. Now, though still very weak and often in pain, she was showing distinct signs of improvement, and May looked forward to a peaceful two hours on the Wednesday morning when Staff left her in charge on Sister’s day off.
As she left, Staff Nurse Lee said, ‘If you’ve got any time, perhaps you could try and knock some sense into Pearson, Winton. I’m fast losing patience with her, the girl seems all thumbs, and frightened of her own shadow.’ May decided that when Pearson had finished scrubbing mackintoshes in the sluice she would teach her how to do a four-hourly temperature and pulse round of the more serious cases.
Ten minutes later May looked up from rearranging the pillows of fat Mrs Soames to see a worried Pearson appear at the ward entrance, clutching a scrubbing brush and dripping soapy water on the floor. May sighed, and went to her.
‘Is anything the matter, Nurse Pearson?’
‘Head Nurse,’ as usual the words came out in an anxious rush, ‘There’s a man, a visitor, what shall I do?’
‘It’s not visiting today, Pearson, besides, it’s the morning. Has he a particular reason for wishing to see his wife?’
The probationer, still looking worried, shook her head. ‘It’s not a relative, Nurse Winton, it’s a gentleman, a clergyman.’
May frowned, would the girl never learn? She said sharply, ‘You should know the rule by now, Nurse Pearson. Don’t you remember Matron’s lecture on ethics, on the day you arrived? “It is rarely wrong to admit a clergyman at once, unless there is some reason, obvious to everyone, why it is not possible.”’ May gestured back at the ward. ‘Even you can see there’s no such reason at present, so you should have ushered him straight in. What have you done with him?’
Pearson reddened. ‘I’m sorry, Nurse, I forgot. I put him outside and told him I’d have to go and ask Head Nurse, since she was in charge.’
May exclaimed, ‘Really, Pearson, you don’t “put clergymen outside”! I’ll go and invite him in. Get rid of that scrubbing brush and come with me, now, so that you’ll know how to do it next time.’
With a chastened Pearson trotting obediently at her heels May walked up to the big double doors and swung them open, a professional smile on her face. Her features froze. Outside stood the young clergyman of Chrisp Street market. May saw his jaw drop, and felt hers do the same: they both stood motionless, staring at each other.
He found his tongue first, his voice hoarse, ‘You!’ His gaze swept over her, from the tips of her stiffly starched muslin frills, down her all-enveloping apron, to the rounded toes of her sensible black shoes. Then he looked back at her face again. He seemed totally stunned.
May had remained speechless, then she became conscious of Pearson’s earnest gaze beside her, and she managed to stammer out, ‘What do you want?’ Then, at last, her training reasserted itself. She beckoned him through the door and along the corridor, saying, ‘I’m so sorry you’ve been kept waiting, but Nurse naturally wished to check that a visit was convenient. Which of our patients do you wish to speak to?’
He had regained his self-control as well. ‘I’d like a few words with Hetty Barnes, if I may. Her grandmother is my cook; she has been unable to come herself, and is naturally anxious about her granddaughter.’
‘I have heard her mention her grandmother – Mrs Lewis, isn’t it?’ He nodded. May continued, ‘I’m sure Hetty will be pleased to hear of her.’
They reached the bed. Hetty looked up, her face flushed with pleasure.
‘Hello, Mr Lisle. Gran wrote you’d try an’ come an’ see me.’
May swung a chair neatly into position and motioned to Mr Lisle. He hesitated, uneasy at the reversal of roles. May was firm.
‘Do sit down, Mr Lisle. Nurse and I will fetch the screens.’
He said hastily, ‘Please don’t bother, that’s really not necessary. My visit is purely a social one.’
May paused, then noticing Hetty’s look of pride in her well-dressed visitor she decided to let the girl bask in the envy of the other patients – after all, Sister wouldn’t be back for
ages. She smiled at Hetty and withdrew, Pearson following. As she reached the ward entrance she realised she felt quite shaken – fancy that angry young clergyman being Hetty’s grandmother’s employer – ‘My gran works for a vicar, Nurse, up Bromley way. He’s a bachelor, and ever so handsome.’ She remembered the words now, though barely listening to them at the time as she had been concentrating on the state of Hetty’s wound.
She stood still for a moment, forgetful of Pearson as the memory of the scene in Chrisp Street flooded over her, then a worried voice said, ‘I watched ever so carefully, Nurse Winton, but I don’t know if I can do it just like you – exactly how long do you have to stand and stare at clergymen before you let them in?’
May gulped. ‘Actually, Pearson, I think you’d better watch Sister on another occasion – I don’t think I got it quite right this time. Go and finish the mackintoshes, then come and fetch me and I’ll show you how to do the four-hourly temps.’
Pearson’s face lit up. ‘Oh, thank you Nurse, I’ve nearly done.’
A few minutes later Pearson was back. May checked the mackintoshes – a supervision she never failed to exercise – then took her into the ward. They went over to Mrs Field in the first bed and May showed Pearson how to shake down the mercury in the thermometer to 95°, then insert the bulb under the tongue.
‘Tell her to close her lips over it – I know you know what to do, Mrs Field, but another patient might not be so experienced – time it by your watch, five minutes it’s got to stay in, now on to the next patient, a minute later, so you remember, we’ll just do two at a time for the moment, to make it easier. Three fingers on the pulse, not just one, I’m sure you’ve practised this with Sister Tutor – why must you not use your thumb? That’s right, Nurse, well done. Now enter it on the chart – good girl, that’s very neat. Back to the thermometer, now, what must you do before you use it on another patient?’
By a careful mixture of chivvying and coaxing May got Pearson round. When they reached Hetty Barnes Mr Lisle began to rise, but seeing Hetty’s look of disappointment May motioned him back.
‘No need for you to go yet, Mr Lisle, you’ll just have to do all the talking for the next five minutes, while Hetty holds the thermometer. I’m sure you can manage that without any difficulty.’
She smiled directly at him and was fascinated to see a red flush creep out from under the white band of his collar, and up over his face. But to be fair to the young man, he was obviously keeping Hetty entertained; she had quite a pretty colour in her cheeks.
‘We’ll do the axillary temps last, Pearson, all at once.’ She took the probationer past the following five beds to the next acute case.
Finally they returned to the old lady in the next bed to Hetty. She plucked at her bedclothes and made a constant low muttering sound in her delirium; she could not be trusted with the thermometer in her mouth. As May showed Pearson how to take a temperature from the armpit she had a strong suspicion that Mr Lisle, though apparently taking a lively interest in Hetty’s story about her brother’s donkey, was, in fact, listening to her voice as she instructed the junior probationer. But she made herself concentrate on the matter in hand and watched Pearson narrowly. The girl was clearly nervous of the old woman, but she did as she was told. When the temperature had been registered May drew her back from the bed.
‘You coped quite well, Nurse Pearson, but you did not speak to the patient.’
Pearson murmured, ‘But she’s delirious, Nurse Winton, she doesn’t know us.’
May shook her head. ‘Perhaps not, but there is always the possibility that she understands a little, and even if she doesn’t, a soothing tone may help to reassure her and calm her – think of a delirious patient as a frightened one, Nurse, and it will help you. And remember, we can never know how much a patient understands – dying patients often look unconscious, but hearing is the last sense to go, so never say anything you would not wish them to hear.’
Pearson nodded solemnly, and May added for good measure, ‘Don’t forget, Nurse, you must never judge solely by appearances, they are often deceptive.’
Soon as the words were out of her mouth May realised their double-edged meaning. She glanced hastily at the grey-suited back, and saw another tide of red rise above his collar and lose itself in his thick black hair. She felt a pang of remorse, then hardened her heart – serve him right, that was exactly what he’d done. She turned back to Pearson and spoke briskly.
‘Come along, Nurse, you’ve the dinner things to prepare. Report back to me when you’ve finished.’ Pearson scuttled off.
May moved up the ward again to Mrs Green, a patient in the end bed, recovering well from her operation. She pretended to be checking the ventilation from the window above as she covertly studied the woman’s colour. Why had she felt a stab of unease during the temperature round? Her reading had been a little high, and was her breathing slightly laboured?
‘How are you feeling, Mrs Green?’
‘Quite well, thank you, Nurse Winton.’ Yet the woman’s smile was strained.
May walked thoughtfully back down the ward. As she passed Hetty’s bed her visitor stood up. He turned to May and said, his voice formal, ‘I wonder if you would be so kind as to spare me the time for a few words, Miss Winton, before I leave.’
‘Certainly, Mr Lisle.’ May was curious.
He went back to shake Hetty by the hand and say his goodbyes, then he walked down the ward beside her.
‘You seem very busy.’
‘On the contrary,’ May replied. ‘Today is very quiet, otherwise I could not have spent the time teaching Nurse Pearson. Besides,’ she added honestly, ‘Sister and Staff would not both have been off-duty had the ward been very heavy. I am only in my third year, and still in training.’
He looked quickly at her, but stayed silent until they reached Sister’s sitting room. May ushered him in, but left the door wide open; he glanced at it but May knew she must never ever shut this door when alone with a male doctor and she had no intention of taking chances in the case of another male, even though a clergyman – certainly not one still on the lower side of thirty as she judged Mr Lisle to be. She did not sit down, but stood with her hands neatly clasped in front of her apron, waiting for him to speak. He seemed to be having some difficulty finding the right phrases, and May felt a distinct pleasure in seeing her eloquent accuser of several weeks ago now apparently searching for words. At last he took a deep breath and began.
‘Miss Winton, it is very clear that I owe you an apology. Obviously I totally misunderstood your position in the East End. I am deeply sorry.’
May saw that he really did look sorry: his expression was anxious.
She allowed herself a cool smile. ‘Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Mr Lisle.’
He looked relieved, but she remembered the expression of contempt on his Byronic features in Chrisp Street and could not resist adding, ‘Though I would have thought that in your profession it was particularly important not to make hasty and ill-considered judgments.’
He flushed. then said, ‘Be fair, Miss Winton. You were apparently inciting one woman to attack another in a street brawl.’
May glared at him. ‘You know nothing of the circumstances!’
‘I can think of no circumstances in which a woman of your class in Society,’ May opened her mouth to protest, but he ploughed on, ‘Very well, of your profession, then, should condone a skirmish like that in Chrisp Street. Men fighting is one thing, but to see women setting about each other on the streets is appalling!’
May drew a deep breath and burst out, ‘So it’s quite permissible for men to fight, but not women, because it offends your delicate sensibilities as a male. I suppose you’re one of those hidebound reactionaries who would deny the franchise to mature, adult women!’
‘Certainly not – I wholeheartedly support the enfranchisement of mature, adult, women.’ The emphasis on the last three words was unmistakable.
May’s anger was rising. ‘You
should come into the Receiving Room on a Saturday night and see the damage these males, these drunken lords of creation inflict on each other, and on their weaker wives and children. Surely, as a clergyman, you should be a man of peace?’
He said doggedly, ‘I don’t agree with fighting by either male or female, but I have a higher opinion of women. I expect the female of the species to exercise womanly restraint.’
They glared at each other like a pair of lighting cocks. Suddenly the absurdity of the whole situation hit May forcefully. Whatever must they look like! She took hold of herself.
In a voice as sweet as honey she said softly, ‘Mr Lisle, I am exercising womanly restraint – now, at this very minute!’
He started, and looked at her closely. Then his mouth began very slightly to curve up at the corners. May felt hers twitch in response. He spoke.
‘Touché, Miss Winton. I am sorry for Chrisp Street – believe me, I regretted my words long before I saw you here.’
May held out her hand, but before he could take it Pearson shot through the doorway.
‘Head Nurse, come quickly – Dawes says she thinks Mrs Green’s stitches have burst, she’s collapsed!’
May rapped out, ‘Tell Warner to fetch the emergency tray, then go and find Dr Rawlings, at once.’
Mr Lisle jumped out of her way. ‘Goodbye, Miss Winton.’
May threw a hurried farewell over her shoulder and was off into the ward at top speed, her eyes on the far bed where Dawes was trying to calm the terrified woman.
Chapter Twenty Six
It was a bright morning, and thin shafts of sunlight from the high windows lay across the tables in the centre of the ward. The freshly sponged leaves of the aspidistra, Sister Martha’s pride and joy, resplendent in its ornate brass pot, gleamed a lighter green. Yesterday had been operating day, so breakfast had taken longer than usual. May and Pearson were whisking through the beds at speed, but they slowed down when they reached Hetty Barnes, handling her gently as they removed the drawsheet.
Mayfair Rebel Page 23
