My first official and independent act in the shaping of the hospital was to hire three nurses. Two had only just finished their training, and joined us from St Thomas's Hospital, the third was Molly, the girl Hanson had introduced me to during Christmas. She had many siblings, and would earn a lot more here than in the work house which her parents had intended to sell her to.
As for Hanson's and my personal relationship – there did not seem to be one. Too much had to be arranged to even mention the kiss which I had refused. He was a bachelor now, but appeared to have forgotten all about it. Whenever I had a minute to dwell on it, I became very depressed, and blamed myself for my notoriously bad conduct. Hanson was very busy, and again I did not want to burden him with my feelings – they could wait. There were more important things that needed to be taken care of. So far, Hanson was mostly required to make house visits. The rich and poor alike had very reserved feelings towards hospitals, and there were no cases just yet which needed constant care. Thus, Hanson was afoot or in his carriage during the day, accompanied by me – his loyal assistant. Some of the patients needed to get used to me, but most took a liking to me right away, and a few merely bore with me. Hanson said I was a great help to him, and indeed I felt like I was. If I was not required at the sick bed I tended to the relatives making sure they understood everything Hanson needed them to.
One house visit was particularly vivid in my memory, it was the first child I watched Hanson deliver. I was not conscious for all of the procedure, as I fainted somewhere between the delivery of the baby's head and feet, but what I had seen remained before my inner eye for many weeks to come. The nastiest gangrene did not make me flinch, but watching a small human being come out of a bigger one was a sight I could not bare. Hanson laughed at me and said that soon I would be delivering babies without his aid.
When we were away from hospital, the nurses were in charge, although their only work consisted of making sure that calls were noted and passed on to me or Hanson. There was little to do for the girls but Hanson kept them busy by giving them assignments to either study or practice. He could not easily shake off five years of teaching.
On the upper floor were rooms that Hanson and I occupied while staff went home at night, unless they were on the night shift. Usually, Hanson was so tired from a hard day's work that he went to his room, and sank dressed as he was on the bed, only to fall asleep instantly. Though, I was tired too, I never went to bed without doing the book keeping first. It was not looking too good. The money was running out faster than it came in. The minus was not a large one but it was undeniably growing. If we did not start taking in paying patients soon, we would run into bankruptcy before the year ended. He had worked so hard for all of it – I could not allow it to end. I recalculated but the result remained. We had arrived at a minus of eighteen Pounds and ten Shilling. In my possession I still had the twenty pounds which the old man had given me. I needed to go to the Bank of England first thing in the morning to settle the account before the bank charged interest. It was 4 a.m. In fact, I decided to go right away and wait until the bank opened. No, this was wrong. I was trying to solve everything on my own again. Hanson and I were partners – well, he was in charge, but we worked together.
The chair slid loudly across the floor, when I rose from it. With a heavy heart, I walked up and down in front of his door until I finally found the courage to enter. He had not even taken off his coat or his shoes. He lay on his belly, his face was turned to the side. It could not be a comfortable position but he did not seem to mind. I knelt down next to him and shook his shoulder carefully. He awoke with a start, then asked if it was time for the first visit already.
'No, not for hours yet,' I said hardly raising my voice above a whisper. Seeing the selfless devotion in his sleepy face made me love him more than anything in the world.
He sat up and rubbed his face: 'Is there something on your mind, then?'
'Yes,' I replied with a sigh.
'Is it our finances?'
'How do you know?'
'How can I not know – every single hospital bed is unoccupied and out of the house visits only one patient in twenty is in a position to pay for the treatment,' concluded Hanson sombrely.
'It is not quiet so bad. Right now, the difference amounts to eighteen Pounds. I will clear it in the morning.'
'I do not want that, Jo. Should you have eighteen Pounds then please do keep them. If this enterprise fails, I will be glad to know that you have some little finances to fall back on,' he held his breath for a moment, then looked at me tenderly, 'I do not want to ruin you.'
Was this the reason he had not proposed to me, because he was afraid he might not be able to look after me, provide for me?
'Just like you did not care that I might ruin you, I do not worry about my ruin through you. I have the means to postpone the moment we become indebted to the bank and I will use them. All we need is time. Time will earn people's trust, and once we have their trust, they will come to us. Besides, should our debt become insurmountable, I am not afraid of the debtor's prison. I have read Little Dorrit – it does not sound so very bad.'
'If Dickens says so,' laughed Hanson, 'I do not think, I would mind spending my life locked away from the rest of the world if you were there to visit me.'
'I would take up a room next to your cell,' I said without hesitation.
It made him laugh some more, then his features twisted into a forced smile: 'What a sad, sad prospect. A thousand Pounds are so much less than I thought they were.'
'We won't let it come to that. I believe in your skills and talent, all we need to do is persevere.'
'I will do everything I can, Jo, I promise you that,' he vowed with a strong, unwavering look upon his eyes, and took my hand into his.
Early next morning, after having slept for two hours (Hanson had insisted on it) I took the carriage to the Bank of England. I had wanted Hanson to use it but he did not allow me to walk from Waterloo to Threadneedle Street on foot when I had hardly slept. He was afraid I might not pay attention and be run down by the wild traffic. I promised to hurry so I could pick him up after his first house visit, which was not too far from our home, and accompany him on the second.
I had not been to the Bank of England on my own yet and it was a scary place to go to. I wore my best dress and even went so far as to put on a corset that half-smothered me. The buildings all around seemed like fortresses and I felt like an ant in comparison. Important looking men with big hats and long coats occupied the streets. They were a completely different sort from the one I was used to. A woman was a rare sight in their midst, and I was eyed sceptically as I entered the banks. What they did not know was that I was used to being alone among men who thought they were superior to me, and though I felt uncomfortable – I was not intimidated. Determinedly, I walked to the man at the counter. He ignored me persistently and served all the other customers, but I waited patiently and with, what I hoped was, quiet dignity and a little contempt. When there was no one left in the queue but me, and he could no longer pretend not to hear me, I voiced my request and was ushered grudgingly to one of the desks in the back of the tremendously huge hall which was entirely made of marble. Again, I was made to wait for a long time until one of the clerks strolled slowly in my direction, only to turn around upon seeing me and occupy himself with another task. I tapped my fingers on the big, fat mahogany desk, angry at myself for not having worn Hanson's clothes.
'Miss Ryde?' a high-pitched voice sounded from behind me and I turned in my large, gold-adorned armchair to look where it had come from.
'Miss Ryde, indeed it is you!' shouted a small man and walked quickly from the far end of the large hall to the desk I sat at. He wore a reasonably elegant brown suit and a hat that was nearly as tall as him. The whiskers ended in perfect circles.
'Miss Ryde, what a happy coincidence, how glad I am to see you here, I was looking all over London for you, who would have thought that you would graduate one year early,' the
man scarcely took a moment to draw breath. He seemed oddly familiar, but I could not place him.
'My,' he suddenly laughed, 'you really are a girl and you bear the same serious expression as when I first met you.'
'Mr Davenport,' I exclaimed and rose form my chair to shake his hand eagerly. How could I forget the old man's legal adviser even for a moment, when the news he had brought me over a year ago had changed my life entirely.
Chapter 31
MONEY AND MEMORY
I picked Hanson up at a shabby old house near Blackfriars Bridge. He was already waiting for me by the road. Judging by the blissful expression on his face the visit had gone well.
'Mr Bailey is much better than when I last visited him,' said Hanson joyfully, 'the treatment I prescribed seems to have helped greatly. You should have seen how happy his wife was,' he said all that while mounting the carriage. When he sat down next to me, he eyed me. Concern began clouding his expression. The colour of my face did not seem to meet his approval, hence he began touching my forehead, and checks and ultimately feeling my pulse, and only after performing his routine he considered asking: 'Are you unwell? Has something happened at the bank?'
'Mr Hanson,' I said formally yet with a shacking voice, 'I have a business proposition, sir, and I employ you to hear me out.'
He sat back and though I dared not look at him, I could feel how rigid he had become.
'It has come to my attention, sir, that you are running a hospital which is lacking the necessary funds to ensure a smooth operation. As I believe fervently in its success and your own skills as a doctor, I would like to buy it off you and invest ten thousand Pounds Sterling in the enterprise. Rest assured that as the owner of the hospital, I intend to change nothing about it unless we both agree that change is required. I have complete trust in you and believe that together we can achieve greatness and help everyone who needs us to help them,' my hands with the reins in them shook, so the horses thought it was a command to walk on.
'And how, might one ask, have you, Miss Ryde, arrived at ten thousand Pounds? Have you robbed the bank while you were in it?' I could not tell if he was amused, or angry, or merely confused. He was very good at keeping his composure, much better than I, for I had started crying and wailing when Mr Davenport had told me.
'No, Charles,' I said much quieter as the emotions were now tying up my throat. 'Mr Sears – the old man – has arranged for me to inherit his fortune in the event of my successful graduation from Kenwood,' the last part came out in a sob and I started crying and wailing all over again. I was as sad as I was happy because the old man was no longer with us, and would never learn what his money was going to do for the poor and the sick. He had provided me with the means to do good and to make the man I loved happy – and he would never know. Thinking about how much faith he had had in me, made me cry more and I clung to Hanson and sobbed into his coat.
'Jo,' said Hanson softly and put his arms around me, 'the hospital is my dream, are you sure you want to spend all that money on it? You could go to Oxford or Cambridge instead, and travel the whole world, live your life in ease and comfort.'
'My mind is made up,' I sniffled into his coat, 'if it weren't for you I would not have graduated, and even if I travelled the whole world I would not find home like I did with you and the hospital. It is my dream, too.'
And to prove that it was, I had a large plaque installed over the entrance the next day. It read 'Sofia's Hospital For Women and Children'. When Sofia first saw the improvement she was so touched and overwhelmed that she both laughed and cried at the same time. It was only right to have her name on a brazen plate. She was the reason Hanson had become a doctor. They had done so much for me, I was glad to give a little back.
The fortune had arrived just in time as our first patients came to the hospital, when a horrible fire broke out in a hotel in Covent Garden. There were so many casualties, that all the hospitals in the area had to work together to ensure adequate treatment for the injured. Hanson provided his carriage for the transportation of the sick, and hired another ten carriages to do the same. Within one afternoon, our twenty-five beds were filled with coughing, and whining humans with different severity levels of injury. Among them were Lucy and Daisy, Mrs Banks' twins. The two girls were in a good state. They had suffered a strong fright and a few bruises, as well as breathed in some smoke, other than that they needed no more than one day to recover. As the hotel they had worked at had burned down they needed a new workplace and we were most happy to provide it. Hence they joined our small team of nurses to help the people who were less fortunate.
Within a week, a great number of donations reached our account. The burnt-down hotel had been frequented by the upper classes, hence they felt it was their duty to express solidarity towards their own kind. It helped that the newspapers were describing the incident most vividly in dramatically illustrated articles. Among the donations was one made by Richard Redford who seemed to be doing well judging by the numbers on the cheque, and another one was made by Hanson's father which was of the uttermost symbolic significance to Hanson, himself, though he would probably never admit it. It meant Mr Hanson finally began believing in his sons talent.
Hanson and I did not care where our patients came from, whether they were rich or poor, we did not even insist on treating only women and children, although we were a hospital for women and children. We cured and healed whoever needed healing. Those who we were beyond the reach of our medical competence were made comfortable.
There was a large number of people that came to us weeks after the incident. They complained of chest pains and difficulties to breath. A dense cloud of smoke had stayed over the Northern part of central London for a few days after the fire, and even people who were not in Covent Garden at the time, suffered from the smoke cloud.
The patients said that other hospitals had turned them down because they were already overflowing with patients whose injuries were much more severe. We allowed ourselves the luxury to treat everyone who knocked on our door. We brought mattresses to the house, and placed them wherever there was space. We installed curtains to separate beds, and offer the sick as much privacy as possible. Along the walls, we placed chairs for those strong enough to sit and walk. And, most importantly, we kept the air in the rooms fresh, so recovery could be achieved quickly.
Hanson used up litres of phenol. I assisted during a great many operations. There were so many in fact, that he required me to relieve him of some of the tasks. Within a short period of time, I mastered the art of giving stitches, calculating the correct dose of anaesthetics, disinfecting wounds, and reading Hanson's mind. After a few weeks the rows of beds cleared, and we resumed a steadier daily routine. Our popularity, however, had demonstrably risen.
It was around Christmas that we were busily at work, when a knock at the door sounded. As always, one of the girls went to open it. I heard Molly greet the newcomers shyly. I always tried to keep an eye and ear on the girls' doings, so that I could help immediately if a situation surpassed their expertise. Some patients were ill-tempered because they were in discomfort. They vented their anger on our nurses. Particularly Molly was an easy prey, because she was small and shy, although she worked harder than any of the other girls. It seemed to be the case, this time. Whoever was at the door seemed to be giving her a hard time, for her voice was becoming quieter. I did not hear what they were saying exactly, but I could tell Molly needed someone to stand beside her. When I joined her in the doorway, I looked into the face of an elegant lady. Her hair was put up in a beautiful hairstyle, braided with flowers, and ribbon, and a small bonnet that was sitting diagonally on her head – the latest fashion no doubt. The dress, I could not begin to describe, it was glowing brighter than the sun. The fabric looked more like gold than gold itself, with elegant embroidery of flowers that swayed and danced after every one of her moves. Fur lay about her shoulders, and reached to her lower back. A gentleman stood behind her, at the foot of the stairs. Under the shadow
of his long hat, I saw a neatly trimmed beard and whiskers stand out. He wore a thick wool-coat, with fur about the collar.
In contrast to her, Molly and I looked like church mice. The nurses' uniforms were of an understated, but elegant design, of good quality, and cut in a way which would not compromise their movement. It was important to me that my staff were kept warm and comfortable, in response the girls seemed to wear it with pride. As for me, I wore men clothes when in hospital, and a plain black dress – no underskirts, no corset – when making house visits. The frequency of house visits was now reduced, as only the upper classes felt a need for it. Of course, we could not ask a lady to come down to the hospital when she claimed to have been befallen by the most violent headache. The sight of the poor, and the sick would only make her state worse, and lead to her immediate death. For her to live on, Hanson and I were required to come to her house, pat her hand, and tell her that all would be well in the morning. She paid handsomely for it, therefore we had no reason to complain. A lot of the wealthy patients paid even more than the overpriced bills we sent them. They knew about the free treatment we offered those who could not pay, and even if the poor were not a business they would discuss at a fancy dinner, they did have a conscience which commanded them to help us continue with our work. There was mutual appreciation and respect between us. To keep it so, I wore a dress as part of the service. There was no need for provocation. I knew when to insist on my principles and when to let them rest. Thus, it was all the more surprising to find one such wealthy lady at our door.
'Dearest sister,' exclaimed she and threw her arms around my neck. Her clothes pressed coldly to the thin shirt, and waistcoat, I was wearing. Hanson and I had fought over the waistcoat only this morning. Though it was his, I found it suit me much better.
The Girl who was a Gentleman (Victorian Romance, History) Page 26