She had promoted Nurse Haycock to ward sister herself, only to have her stab her in the back and apply for the position of the director of nursing as soon as it became available. A position of which Matron did not approve, as everyone knew. It was almost as though Emily were waiting to apply for Matron’s own job. Matron knew it, and she thought everyone must know that Emily Haycock was most definitely after her post. But although she might think Matron was heading for her dotage, she was wrong.
‘We just have to be one step ahead of that little madam, don’t we, Blackie?’ she had confided, as they waited for Emily to arrive. ‘We aren’t stupid, are we? She is plotting to combine the roles of director of nursing and matron. We just have to be a little bit smarter than she is, don’t we, boy?’ If she had to accept a director of the school of nursing, Matron would much rather the post had been filled by an outsider. Someone she could have taught her own methods from day one, but so much more than that, someone she could have made her friend. Matron so badly needed a friend.
‘Please, do sit.’ Matron raised her eyebrows as Blackie growled, but it was just a warning shot. His wicker basket creaked and crackled as he settled down. Emily craned her neck to check that he had in fact lain back and was not slipping out. Blackie saw her, lifted his head and bared his teeth before he closed his eyes. His ears remained pricked.
‘How are the new intake progressing?’ Matron asked with a chilly politeness, as soon as Emily was seated. ‘It’s their first day on the wards, is it not?’
‘It is, Matron, and that is why I asked to speak to you. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask for your advice about a very delicate situation.’
Matron visibly thawed and a smile almost reached her lips. This was more like it. Emily Haycock was seeking her guidance, rather than charging off with her own ideas.
She leant forward and put her elbows on the desk. ‘I am happy to help, as you know. Of course I am. I looked after the probationers for forty years until the government thought it knew how to run my hospital better than I. What can I do to help? Would you like some tea? Shall I ring for Elsie? Blackie, no!’ At the mention of Elsie’s name, Blackie had growled.
Emily almost took the easy way out. Should she accept the tea? Ask imaginary questions, butter Matron up? Pander to her sense of superiority and self-importance? Would that serve any purpose? With a heavy heart, she decided it would not. The problem would still be there and it was one she had to fix. It was her responsibility. Her new probationer nurses must take priority. She would try as hard as she could to charm Matron, but her girls must come first. She took a deep breath and began.
‘The problem is a little delicate. I... er, I... well...’ Her voice wobbled and almost deserted her. ‘I have grave concerns regarding the conduct of Sister Antrobus on ward two. You may not be aware of this, but she has been directly responsible for three resignations from the school of nursing in the past year.’ Her confidence returned and she eased into full flow. ‘Placing a probationer nurse on her ward is as good as saying goodbye to that nurse and I’m afraid I have to step in. I cannot allow this to continue. I have tried to speak to Sister Antrobus myself, but she simply will not...’ She stopped mid-sentence as Matron raised her hand. The warmth that had been in the room just a few moments earlier had vanished in a flash.
‘Indeed, I am aware that you’ve tried to speak to her. She told me. I had wondered if you were aware that qualified staff are my responsibility, not yours?’
Emily swallowed. She was very aware that this was the case and wished it weren’t. There was a difficult disconnect between the school of nursing and the general day-to-day operation of the hospital. If she had responsibility for the placement of the probationer nurses, she was sure, there would be far fewer problems. Blackie fixed her with a beady eye. The change of atmosphere in the room had made him positively bristle.
‘I thought that you would already know, Matron. However, when it comes to the placement of probationer nurses, it would make my job impossible if I couldn’t have any dialogue with the ward sisters. I assure you, I have a very good relationship with everyone on all of the wards, except for Sister Antrobus. She refuses to acknowledge the effect her manner has on probationers. Indeed, having been a nurse on her ward myself in my younger days, I can say that her style of nursing has a negative impact on patients too.’
Matron drew an audible intake of breath. It was one thing to criticize a ward sister for her failings and how they affected nursing staff, quite another to involve the patients. She placed the letter she had been reading back into its envelope with a calmness that concealed her inner flare of anger. Sister Antrobus was the nearest she had to a friend. Matron had appointed her, and they shared a dedication to the job as well as to the status of single women. Both vehemently opposed any notion of married women being allowed to nurse. Nursing and St Angelus were their life. They occasionally had lunch together. Matron was looking forward to cooking for Sister Antrobus this Friday evening. She thought a great deal of Sister Antrobus. In fact, she thought of her a great deal. It had worried her at first how much she thought about her, but she had decided that it was her own personal secret and no one else knew.
‘Sister Haycock, I can assure you that I have received no complaints regarding Sister Antrobus, and having visited her ward only yesterday I can say with absolute confidence that I wholly approve of her style, as you call it. I had no idea that we were teaching our probationers style these days.’ Her nose wrinkled in disdain.
Emily knew. Everyone knew, from nurse to porter, about the close relationship between Matron and Sister Antrobus. It was the basis of smutty jokes in the lodge among the porter’s lads. Emily knew there wasn’t a probationer who wouldn’t have heard the hints within her first week. It was why Emily wanted to treat Matron gently. She would not tolerate a word of the gossip. In fact, any probationer nurse who did utter a word of jest at the expense of Sister Antrobus and Matron would find herself in Emily’s office. Respect was the first thing Emily drilled into her probationers. For patients and for each other. For the doctors and senior nurses on the wards. For the teaching staff at the school. For Matron and Sister Antrobus, and especially for the people who kept the hospital running, Dessie, Biddy, Elsie and all the orderlies and domestics.
‘Matron—’ Emily never got the chance to ask her question. Matron cut her off yet again.
‘Who is the probationer on ward two?’ she asked abruptly. As though the name would make any difference at all to the overbearing behaviour of Sister Antrobus.
‘Nurse Tanner.’
‘Oh, yes, Nurse Tanner. She is resident at the Lovely Lane home, isn’t she? The nurse whose corner you fought with Mr Scriven? He has asked me to keep an eye on that particular young lady.’ Matron looked smug and Emily felt sick. ‘As a member of the board, he has every right to do so.’
Emily wondered if she had just made things worse for Pammy. Matron, realizing she was on stronger ground, forged on.
‘He would very much like to know how she performs once she is let loose on the patients. He is very concerned that we are allowing our standards to drop and I have to agree. She is the first nurse we have taken from the dock road. Mr Scriven thought you had gone quite mad.’
Emily felt her colour rise and took a deep breath before she spoke. Only the dog knew she was a hair’s breadth away from losing her temper. Neither Matron nor any of the board members knew that the place of her birth and her true home had been only yards away from Pammy Tanner’s. Emily swore to herself that one day she would let Matron and Mr Scriven know exactly where she originated from, but when she did, it would be at a moment of her choosing. Revenge was a dish best served cold.
‘Are you telling me that you approve of the way Sister Antrobus intimidates probationer nurses with nothing more than her temper and an irrational bad mood? Do you think there is a place in modern nursing for such an overbearing and high-handed attitude?’
‘I don’t agree with your assessment of
Sister Antrobus one little bit, Sister Haycock. If style is what you have come here to discuss with me, I am afraid you have wasted your time and mine. Given Mr Scriven’s concern, I am delighted Nurse Tanner will begin her training on ward two. If she hasn’t got what it takes, we will know sooner rather than later and she won’t waste any more of our time.’
Emily had had enough. The ignorance and prejudice were beginning to suffocate her. She knew Matron was unmovable. Without another word, she stood and walked to the door. As she turned the handle, she plucked up an extra thread of courage and turned back.
‘I’m afraid that if Sister Antrobus intimidates Nurse Tanner and I find myself with yet another nurse leaving before she has finished her probationary training, then I shall have to call an emergency meeting of the trustees to discuss Sister Antrobus’s position. We invest a great deal in our probationer nurses. One loss alone costs the hospital a considerable amount of money, not to speak of the investment in time and effort that Sister Ryan and I dedicate to each course and each nurse. In the same way you will be watching Nurse Tanner, I shall be watching Sister Antrobus. She has frightened away her last probationer nurse. I cannot stand by and watch it happen again.’
With that, Emily opened the door and left the room to sudden barks from Blackie, who left his basket and flew across the floor towards the rapidly closing door. Emily almost leant against the other side. Her heart was beating hard, drops of perspiration had broken out on her top lip and there was only one place she wanted to be: with Biddy back in the school of nursing. Despite the trembling of her knees, she flew down the stairs and across the hospital grounds. No one ever stood up to Matron and she wasn’t sure if she would be made to pay in some way for what she had just said.
*
‘Well, I never. You gave her what for then,’ said Biddy as she poured them both a cup of tea in the kitchen after hearing every detail of the encounter.
‘I don’t know about that, but I’ve done what I can for Nurse Tanner. Now we just have to pray.’
‘Don’t worry about that little girl,’ said Biddy. ‘I’ve already asked Branna to keep an eye on her. She’s the cleaner on ward two, and she comes from Waterford. Her mammy’s sister’s son married a girl who was a Brogan. Isn’t that just the thing, with us having a Nurse Brogan? I’ve told her, Nurse Tanner is the best of friends with Nurse Brogan, so Branna will keep a good watch out for her, and if things go wrong, she’ll make sure I know about it pretty quickly.’
Emily laughed. ‘You and your Irish Mafia. You’re everywhere.’
‘Ah, well, don’t begrudge us that now, we have to be. We’ve been through a lot, so we have. We all have to look out for each other.’
Emily remembered the notices she had read when looking for lodgings. Time and again the adverts read No Irish. Emily knew exactly what Biddy meant.
As Biddy busied herself about the kitchen, Emily drank her tea and looked out of the window towards the main building and the wards. The sky had darkened and the rain had begun to fall heavily. She would leave herself before she would stand by and see another nurse driven from St Angelus in tears, abandoning a career she had been born to. If it came to that, she would take Sister Antrobus down with her. And whatever the outcome, Maisie Tanner’s daughter would survive.
‘Mr Gaskell came while you were out, the younger one, that is. He left an envelope on your desk so he did.’
‘Oh, yes. That will be the lecture notes he wants me to take a look at.’
‘Really,’ said Biddy, narrowing her eyes and fixing Emily with a meaningful stare. ‘Are you sure about that? Because the thing is, he came twice before I could persuade him to agree to leave the envelope. Mighty keen he was to give it to you in person, if you ask me.’
Emily blushed. Biddy held her like a rabbit in the headlights as she tried to think of a suitable response. ‘Well, I shall prove it to you,’ she said at last, marching towards her desk. She masked her disappointment as she extracted four sheets of paper from the envelope. ‘See, Biddy? Lecture notes, just as I said.’
Biddy was clearing away the tea things as she spoke. ‘That’s as maybe, but I’m no fool. He was keen to see you, and Dr Gaskell strikes me as a man in a dreadful hurry. I wouldn’t keep him hanging around too long.’
Emily pretended to look offended as she placed the lecture notes in her desk drawer, ready to read later. She knew Biddy was right, but she had given so much of herself to her career that there had been no time for men, and besides, what man would take her once he knew her secret, what her life was really like? Would honour her obligation as his own? None, she was quite sure of that. She had made her decision, her bed and her promises, and now she had to keep them. She had little time left if she ever wanted a child. She knew that, and in her heart she also knew that she had sacrificed one love for another. She would never know the joy of holding her own baby in her arms.
Emily bit her lip. There was nothing she could do. She was trapped. She glanced at the ornate radiator and saw that they were gone, and looking at her shelf she spied the brown paper bag. Inside, would be the pyjamas, folded and ironed.
‘I did them while you were gone,’ said Biddy. ‘You don’t have to tell me, it’s none of my business, but if there is anything I can do to help, you know where I am.’
Emily blushed and looked back down at her desk. ‘Thank you, Biddy.’ Her voice was the faintest whisper.
‘Eh, did you know there’s no limit on cocoa powder from this week? We can use the vouchers for something else. They’ve gone mad in the kitchens. I’ll go and fetch us a couple of slices of the chocolate Victoria sandwich Cook has made. She’s putting cocoa in everything. There’ll be a dusting on the rashers at tea.’
Emily smiled. She knew exactly what Biddy was doing. She had skilfully changed the subject, respecting Emily’s secret. ‘Chocolate Victoria sandwich? I’ve never heard of such a thing.’
‘Well, in ten minutes from now you won’t be able to stop yourself from talking about it,’ Biddy shouted back from the stairwell.
Dessie stood at the bottom of the stairs with a brown canvas toolbag in his hand. Biddy had told him that Sister Haycock’s sitting-room door wouldn’t close properly and he had arrived to fix it, the first free moment he had. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. He had had no idea Oliver Gaskell was sweet on Sister Haycock. But of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be? thought Dessie. What man wouldn’t be? You are a fool, man, he told himself. Why would a woman like her be interested in a man like you? The truth was that Dessie had admired Emily Haycock since first setting eyes upon her, but each time he thought he might ask her to join him for tea at the Lyons Corner House in Church Street he was crippled by one thought. Why would a woman like her want to be seen out with a man like me?
‘I’m here, Biddy,’ he shouted out, as he placed his boot on the wooden stair Biddy had scrubbed only that morning. His steps were heavier and slower than they would have been only five minutes earlier, weighed down by the disappointment resting in his heart.
*
That afternoon, Biddy arrived home later than usual and found Elsie waiting on her doorstep.
‘Jesus, aren’t ye the lucky one, only needing to work this morning,’ she said. ‘I was lucky to be out the door by four today and I was on the overhead railway at half five on me way in this morning. I thought the day would never end. Been waiting long, have ye?’
‘I knew you were on your way, Biddy. Dessie came down the street half an hour since and he said you was on the same bus as he was, but that you were off to the shop.’
‘Did he now?’ said Biddy, as she put her key in the lock. ‘Sure, I can’t sneeze without you all knowing me business, can I?’ She was only half joking and Elsie knew it.
‘Oh, don’t take on, Biddy. I was only after a natter. Tell me, when you went into the shop, were they all talking about our Martha and Jake and asking whether they’re courting?’
‘No, they were not. They were talki
ng about the price of fish. It might surprise you to know there are some people in Liverpool who have no notion that your Martha is courting Jake and that he has an electric washer mangle machine on order from Blackler’s for that house of his. Is that what you want to tell me, because I already heard it from Dessie this morning. Does this mean you won’t be coming down to the Clare Street wash house with me on Saturdays any more?’
‘Of course I will. There’ll be no gossip to be had in our Martha’s kitchen and besides, when would I get to see everyone?’
Since the day Martha and Jake had been courting, Elsie had spoken of nothing else except the possibility that they might one day wed and it was beginning to drive Biddy to distraction. The fact that Dessie had already imparted the riveting, all important electric washer mangle news had taken the wind clean out of her sails. Elsie had little in her life to look forward to. A wedding and an electric washer mangle for Martha would be enough to keep her bragging down at the Claire Street wash house for a year.
Biddy felt slightly guilty at the sight of her friend’s crestfallen face. She knew that Elsie would have been waiting all day to tell her. An electric mangle was very big news. ‘Fancy a cuppa then?’ She knew full well that this was the best way to get around Elsie’s disappointment.
‘Aye, go one, if you’re having one.’
‘Ye know I am, and that the back door is always open. Ye could have had the kettle on by now, ye lazy mare.’
The front door creaked open, letting them both into the narrow, dark hallway. They were met by the wail of the fatter-than-was-good-for-him black cat, who darted from the shadows and pressed himself up against Biddy’s legs.
‘Ah, would ye come here, little fella,’ she said, putting her heavy shopping bag down on the dark brown lino and bending down to stroke him. She had given the stray a home soon after she began having children. They had all long since left, but the old faithful cat sat on her lap at night and kept her company, and in return for his loyalty Biddy looked after him well and fed him half of every biscuit she ate.
The Angels of Lovely Lane Page 21