The Children of Lovely Lane

by Nadine Dorries

  The door to the plant opened and Mr McConaghy stood there with his brother-in-law. ‘Come on, Lily. Are you slacking today? The tea was due five minutes ago.’

  Lily remained silent. She wanted to answer them, make a snappy retort and tell them all where to go. Amy had just told her she was about to trap her best friend, her lost friend, into marriage and that was all that was on her mind. She simply could not think straight. She gave Mr McConaghy a sideways look, which left him in no doubt that his wisest move would be to not say another word, and left Mrs McConaghy to fuss over Amy.

  She pulled down the large brown enamel pot, rinsed it out and began to heap in the spoons of loose tea before filling it with boiling water from the urn. I have to find Lockie, she thought. I have to warn him. The baby is not his and he needs to know. Who else will tell him if I don’t? The eejit of a boy.

  Lily hadn’t finished pouring the water into the pot when the front door burst open. It was the eldest of Mrs McGuffy’s sons, Sam. Lily knew him well; she had seen him only that morning, passing up the nets to his mam. He looked around the office, trying to locate Lily. The sun shone brightly and threw a beam of yellow light into the darker interior, barely penetrating the grey plume of cigarette smoke. It made it difficult for him to see her at first.

  ‘What do you want?’ screeched Mrs McConaghy as she made to fetch the pole she used to close the shutters at night and brandish it at him.

  Lily was too stunned to speak. Mrs McConaghy, with the contents of the safe never far from the front of her mind, obviously thought he was a thief.

  ‘Don’t you set a foot inside this office or I’ll call the police,’ she screeched.

  ‘What for, Mrs?’ asked Sam, looking confused. ‘Me mam has sent me down with a message for Lily. Is she here? She’s Lily Lancashire from Clare Cottages.’

  Then he spotted her in the corner. ‘Lily, Lily, it’s your Joe. Sister Therese has had to take him to the hospital. He’s in St Angelus right now, really bad. Me mam said you are to go straight there and she will look after your Katie.’

  For a second, Lily froze with the shock. She couldn’t move and it wasn’t until the hot water splashed on to her finger that she jumped and, dropping the teapot into the sink, was aware of what Sam McGuffy had just said. This had never happened before. There was something seriously wrong. Joe’s breathing had been bad since yesterday. She had been awake for most of the night with him, but when she’d left that morning, she thought he was feeling and sounding much better.

  Lily didn’t hesitate. She forgot Amy and her plight, forgot the demands of the McConaghys. All she could think about was little Joe.

  27

  ‘Is that it then? I’ve booked us a lovely romantic hotel and you want to travel back to your parents and I’m not even invited?’ Teddy’s voice rose. Not in anger, more in exasperation and disappointment. He had been so looking forward to the much-needed break. And to taking his and Dana’s relationship on to a new level. Judging by the expression on her face, it was the last thing she wanted.

  ‘Teddy, I have to go home. They are expecting me. I have no choice. And if I took you, well, I swear to God, that would be it. The priest would be over quicker than the pig gives birth and I’m not sure they would let you leave if we weren’t married. You know that where I come from no woman is thought to be safe with a man. If you date someone and you’re alone, it’s assumed you are, well...’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Teddy snapped. ‘Dana, it’s 1954, not 1854.’ He sounded hurt and confused.

  ‘To you maybe. I’d say at home it was more like 1924, but that doesn’t matter. It would just be awful for you if I did that. Maybe if we are still together next year.’

  ‘Next year?’ Teddy almost slammed his pewter mug down on to the sawn-off upturned beer barrel. The pub was scattered with the unusual tables and brand-new stools, but the sawdust remained.

  With an impatient gesture, Teddy took his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one. Even though Dana was now a smoker, having been converted by Teddy, she noted that he failed to offer her one. Silence filled the space between them as he blew out a long, steady stream of smoke.

  It wasn’t the money he was worried about, although he had already paid for the hotel in full. It was the huge disappointment. They were due to leave in three days. Why had she taken so long to tell him?

  They heard the sound of an ambulance passing by outside on its way to the hospital and as they waited for the bells to stop they both had the same thought. Teddy was due on casualty in less than an hour. If it was an emergency ambulance, he would need to leave soon. Dana was back on nights in children’s again, so she wouldn’t be on duty until eight o’clock in the evening.

  ‘I’m still going to go, with or without you.’

  He now sounded more sad than angry. Dana could see that he was hurt. He hadn’t even tried to understand the position she was in. She had a life at home that was a million miles away from anything Teddy, with his solicitor family and smart suburban house, could ever understand.

  She put her hand out to place it on top of his, but he snatched his away. ‘How are you getting there?’ he asked, forcing his mind away from the pain of rejection as he stubbed his cigarette out.

  ‘I’ll walk to the boat and get the train at the other end, although there is a day coach from Dublin. Mammy is beside herself expecting me.’

  ‘Well, good for you.’ Teddy finished his drink and stood up.

  Dana flinched at the thought of Teddy’s own mother, who’d died when he was a boy. Now she felt even worse. How could she have been so crass?

  ‘Anyway, I have to get back to work. That was an emergency and I really should be there. Have a good trip home.’ And without even a backward glance, Teddy walked out of the pub and across the road towards St Angelus.

  *

  ‘Nurse Tanner, can you make the paediatric cubicle ready, please. Breathing difficulties, distressed little boy recently turned four on his way in with a nun in tow.’

  Pammy threw the cloth and chlorhexidine solution she was using to wash down a trolley into the dirty utility room and pulled back the screens of the paediatric admissions cubicle. She knew if the phone call had said breathing difficulties, they would need oxygen. She spotted one of the porter’s lads leaving the unit.

  ‘Bryan!’ she almost shouted.

  Sister Antrobus almost made to frown at her. ‘Keep the noise down, please, Nurse Tanner. This is a hospital, not a football pitch.’

  ‘Yes, Sister. Sorry, Sister.’ Pammy felt as though she should curtsey to Sister Antrobus. But even if she did, Sister would still look as though she was chewing a lemon.

  ‘I need a full oxygen bottle for the paediatric cubicle,’ she hissed to Bryan, trying her very best not to raise her voice.

  ‘Coming up, Nurse Tanner,’ said Bryan. Casting a quick glance towards Sister Antrobus, he moved from a trot to a run.

  Within seconds, Pammy had secured a drip stand, a giving-set trolley, a Ryles tube administration pack and an examination set and had them all set up exactly as she had been taught in the practical sessions at the school of nursing. The casualty doors flew open and the ambulance men, with no regard to Sister Antrobus, ran in, pushing a trolley with an anxious-looking nun running right behind.

  ‘Is the paediatric cubicle ready?’ said one of the ambulance men.

  ‘It is. Just in here, please,’ said Pammy as she guided the trolley through. The cubicle curtains were pale green and covered in pictures of white bunny rabbits and there was a hospital cot against the wall.

  ‘Nurse Makebee, can you find a child-sized gown, please, from the linen cupboard,’ Pammy instructed. But before she’d even looked up, Doreen from the clerk’s office had handed her one, along with the notes.

  ‘The nun who telephoned from St Chad’s convent, she called here first,’ Doreen said. ‘It was me who called the ambulance. She gave me the boy’s name, he’s been in before. I thought I would bring over the notes
to save you the trouble and some time.’

  Pammy smiled and gave Doreen a brief hug. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You are a total star, Doreen.’

  For a fraction of a second, both girls had the same thought: how close Miss Van Gilder had come to getting Doreen fired.

  The police had turned up at Assistant Matron’s office some weeks ago, asking to see Doreen. Miss Van Gilder had suddenly and inexplicably come over all faint, so the officer was obliged to go to Matron for help instead. He explained to Matron that there had been another very similar attack on an innocent girl in Durham and that the perpetrator had been caught. They wanted Doreen to help them with the identity parade.

  Everyone at St Angelus was protective of Doreen. Matron knew all of the details and had been full of sympathy, insisting that Doreen return to work only when she was ready. When she did finally come back, even Sister Antrobus looked after her; she became her self-appointed guardian angel on casualty and almost blew up at anyone she saw gossiping. That was until Miss Van Gilder met the police, heard who Doreen was and demanded to know the whole story. She took exception to having a person of such notoriety working at St Angelus and on the day Matron left to attend a big meeting in Manchester with Dr Gaskell, she summoned Sister Antrobus from casualty to her office.

  ‘She is a woman of ill-repute, Sister Antrobus. What was she doing in that entry so late at night? I have read the notes: she was drunk on admission. I feel very strongly that she should not be employed by St Angelus.’

  Sister Antrobus was the only member of staff at St Angelus to have the bravery to stand up to Miss Van Gilder and the encounter spread around the hospital like wildfire, thanks to Elsie and Madge.

  ‘This is my casualty unit now. The staff on here are appointed by me, with Matron’s consent, and they work for me. I will decide who goes and who stays, thank you very much, Miss Van Gilder.’

  ‘I think you forget who is in charge here, Sister Antrobus,’ Miss Van Gilder said. ‘I am the assistant matron and I take full responsibility for all personnel issues at the hospital.’

  ‘Not on casualty, you don’t. That is my domain and that is how it will stay.’ And without another word, Sister Antrobus slammed out of the office.

  *

  Pammy recognized little Joe immediately, but he was beyond smiling, or even communicating.

  Dr Davenport walked into the cubicle at almost the same time as Dr Mackintosh and Pammy noticed the look that passed between them. Little Joe was rambling, confused. His lips were tinged with blue and he was sitting propped up against the sides of the trolley. Pammy felt so much sympathy for the little boy. She remembered how he’d been so grateful for the smallest thing and how everyone had fallen for him. Even Mrs Duffy, and she hadn’t even met him, just heard Dana’s stories from her shifts on the children’s ward. ‘He’s just one of those kids,’ Dana would say over breakfast at Lovely Lane. ‘Leaves your heart in a puddle on the floor at the side of the bed when he falls asleep.’

  Pammy looked at little Joe. He was in such a state, he probably wouldn’t even recognize Dana today.

  ‘If we try to lie him down, he panics,’ said the ambulance man. ‘There’s not much use trying to speak to him, he can only get three words out at a time.’ He folded the blanket he’d wrapped around Joe in half and, throwing it back on to the trolley, quickly made his exit.

  Dr Mackintosh got out his stethoscope and breathed on the end of it as he gave Joe the warmest of smiles.

  ‘We have seen this young man before, haven’t we, Nurse?’ he said to Pammy. As he bent down to listen to Joe’s chest, he glanced up at her. ‘Ask Doreen to ring for Dr Gaskell or the doctor on children’s, they’ve all gone to a meeting in Manchester about the new children’s intensive care. I want to get a line up quickly. Good girl, you have it all ready.’

  As Pammy began to undo the autoclave bag, she heard Miss Van Gilder arrive in the unit. You always hear her before you see her, she thought. She was berating Doreen for being on the ward and out of the clerk’s cubicle. Doreen tried to explain, but Miss Van Gilder was having none of it.

  ‘Your place is behind the screen, not in front of it. You have no business here, out among the patients. You are not fit to be seen on the ward.’

  Pammy looked over and saw that Doreen’s eyes had filled with tears. Doreen didn’t answer, just opened the wooden door that led to her cubicle. She caught the expression of concern on Pammy’s face before she left.

  Within seconds, Miss Van Gilder was in Joe’s cubicle. Pammy’s heart sank.

  ‘May I ask, Doctor, why you are putting up a line on this boy? We all know he recovers fairly well. He has been here before; he was on the children’s ward, was he not? I remember him quite well. He is a neglected child, nothing more.’

  Dr Mackintosh didn’t answer. He looked instead to Sister Therese, who was hovering at the end of the bed. ‘How long has he been like this?’

  ‘I don’t know, Doctor. I think he’s been bad again for a while, though he did seem to take a turn for the better this morning. I saw Lily, his sister, on her way to work and I promised her that I would pop up to the house as soon as the mammy went to, er, went to work. When I got there, I saw the poor boy’s lips were blue. I’m afraid I panicked and called the hospital.’

  ‘You did the right thing. Does his sister know?’

  ‘I have sent a message to where she works, Doctor. She will be on her way, I’ve no doubt.’

  Dr Mackintosh looked concerned as Dr Davenport moved to the head of the bed and held little Joe upright.

  ‘Has he had a cold or an illness lately?’

  ‘Oh yes, Doctor. The house is not the warmest and Joe has been none too well.’ Sister Therese looked as white as a sheet.

  Dr Mackintosh recognized her from some weeks ago on the ward. But she was not the perky, audacious nun he remembered. She was quite right to be worried. He was worried too, but he had to hide it.

  Joe’s breaths were coming in short sharp spasms and Dr Mackintosh noticed that they’d become even shorter in the last few minutes. Listening to his airways, it was clear that there was an occlusion, probably caused by bronchospasm and the phlegm he could hear rattling in his lungs.

  ‘Get a line up now!’ he barked at Dr Davenport. ‘Let’s try the aminophylline. It worked last time.’ He decided not to mention that Joe was now much worse. ‘I will give a stat dose through the bung and then we can add some to an IV and administer it slowly over a much longer period. Clear the cubicle, please. If you could sit in the waiting area,’ he almost snapped at Sister Therese.

  She remembered him as a gentle and kind doctor. His manner told her that something was very wrong. And then she heard Miss Van Gilder’s voice.

  ‘Doctor, I do not think that is necessary. You know this boy. You know how he responds. You are wasting good money using a giving set. This hospital does not have a bottomless budget. I insist you wait until Dr Gaskell gets here. He’s the chest specialist, after all.’

  ‘We may not have time for him to get here. He’s in Manchester and may not even return until tomorrow.’

  ‘That may well be the case, but I do feel you should wait.’

  Pammy raised her eyebrows at what Dr Mackintosh said next. She was no fan of Miss Van Gilder, but she almost felt sorry for her.

  ‘Get. Out. Now.’ Dr Mackintosh gave his instruction in a very precise and clear manner. To have described his approach as firm would have been an understatement.

  Pammy looked away and busied herself by trying to remove Joe’s clothes and replace them with a hospital gown, which would make it easier to treat him.

  Miss Van Gilder blustered while Dr Davenport listened again to little Joe’s chest.

  ‘His airways are definitely obstructed,’ he said as he stood with a worried frown. ‘He’s deteriorating quite rapidly. Let’s get a move on, fast.’

  Little Joe had become almost totally silent. His short inhalations and then long exhalations could barely be heard. His lips h
ad tuned a dark shade of blue and he flopped back against the pillow.

  ‘Out,’ Dr Mackintosh repeated to Miss Van Gilder, who, without another word but with much harrumphing, backed out of the cubicle.

  Everyone flinched for the briefest second when a scream cut through the air.

  ‘Joe!’ It was unmistakably Lily. ‘Joe!’ she screamed again.

  Pammy heard Sister Therese and then the sound of shuffling feet on the wooden floor followed by muffled voices. Looking at Joe, she saw the briefest sign of recognition in his eyes as they flickered in response to Lily having shouted his name.

  In the waiting area, Sister Therese caught Lily in her arms and wrapped them around her. ‘Shush, my dear,’ she said as she held Lily tightly. ‘He is with the best people, it is the same doctor who looked after him last time.’

  Lily pulled herself free and, not even noticing the retreating Miss Van Gilder, she pushed in through the curtains. At the sight of little Joe she gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth. ‘Joe...’ Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, giving little indication of the terror she felt inside.

  Within seconds and before she could even reach Joe, Pammy had taken her arm and led her firmly out of the cubicle. ‘I’m so sorry, love. I don’t know if you remember me?’

  Lily nodded her head in acknowledgement. How could she possibly forget someone who had been so kind to Joe? One of the Lovely Lane angels. Although she couldn’t say so out loud, she was relieved that it was the same nurse today.

  ‘And Dr Mackintosh, I don’t know if you remember him?’

  Lily nodded again, the tears spilling out of her eyes and over the back of her hand, which was still clasped across her mouth. She was scared to take it away in case the screams in her head escaped.

  ‘Come on, love, let’s sit you down with Sister Therese.’ Pammy led Lily back to the chair. ‘I was just explaining that Dr Mackintosh is about to give Joe the same injection that he gave him last time. You may not remember, but it did work very well and there is no reason why it won’t work just as well this time.’ She failed to mention that Joe was in a much worse condition this time and that both doctors were very concerned.