‘J.T., is that you?’ she asked, but she had no time to turn around or to think anything else before a blow across the back of her neck felled her.
As she lay there, speechless but conscious, all she could see was a pair of black boots with brown laces. There was the sound of floorboards being ripped up. A noise pounded in her head and she felt a pressure bearing down on her. She tried to shout for J.T., because hadn’t he been there? But the words just wouldn’t come. She tried to lift her arm, but it was as heavy as lead and no matter how much she tried, it just would not move. Then the blackness came, washing over her gradually. The noise faded and all she could think was, no one puts brown laces in black boots, do they?
*
Lorcan had had the best night of his life. It turned out he was a natural at pool. One of the dockers had shown him how to chalk up and hold his cue and Dessie himself had had a game with him. To top it all, he had walked home with Bryan, just the two of them, because Dessie had already accompanied Bryan’s da back to the Delaneys’. They called at the chip van and Bryan bought them a bag of chips and a saveloy each. Lorcan thought that nothing he had ever eaten in his life had tasted so good. He had never been so happy.
He folded half of his chips back in the newspaper, but, unlike Bryan, he did not shove them into a passing bin in the entry wall but hugged them to him, keeping them warm for his mam to have on some bread and butter when he got indoors. He and Bryan talked all the way home and he could have whooped with joy. He was no longer an outcast because of his brothers. He, Lorcan, was already wiping away the stain and the shame they had brought upon his mother and himself.
‘Do you want me to knock on for you tomorrow morning?’ Bryan said as he lifted the latch on his back gate and looked back, waiting for an answer.
Lorcan’s heart soared. ‘All right. Thanks. I’ll be ready.’
‘Right, see you at half seven then, lad. Night.’
As he approached his own back gate, Lorcan almost skipped. He could see that it was open, and light was spilling out into the entry. This was unusual and the smile slipped from his face. The ginger kittens stood, half in the back yard, half out, looking up the entry as if waiting for Lorcan to return. Their ginger faces were illuminated by the kitchen light and they gave an anxious meow as he approached.
‘What the hell…?’ Lorcan sensed that something was very wrong. Seeing the back door open, and the door to the bottom of the stairs, he dropped the chips and ran inside, jumping up the stairs two at a time shouting, ‘Mam! Mammy!’
As he opened the bedroom door, he found his mother. She was lying on the floor, her eyes closed, her mouth open. Falling to his knees next to her, Lorcan could see that she had turned an unearthly white. Thin strands of her silver hair were trapped in a small puddle of congealed blood. The air filled with his screams. ‘Mam! Mam! Mammy!’ Through his tears, it was impossible for Lorcan to tell if his mother was alive or dead.
Bryan, on his way to the outhouse to empty his da’s bottle, heard Lorcan’s screams. He’d heard similar cries many times before at the hospital, from visitors leaving casualty or the mortuary. He ran down the entry, leapt over the ginger kittens gorging on chips in the yard, and shouted to Lorcan. The concern in his voice made him sound more like any brother Lorcan had ever known.
8
Beth’s night shift had lasted for ever thanks to an emergency operation and she decided to walk down the back stairs and out of the rear entrance, the quickest way to Lovely Lane. Theatre had been unusually busy with emergencies and she had spent the entire shift feeling lonely and tired. There was something desperately sad about knowing that every nurse in the Lovely Lane home the previous night, which had been a Friday, was out with their boyfriends, at the pictures or in the pub, but she hadn’t demurred when Sister Pokey had asked her to cover at the last minute when the day staff nurse had called in sick. ‘I will make sure Matron knows,’ she had said when Beth agreed. Sister Pokey was a good sort really, Beth thought. Not friendly or kindly, sometimes sharp, but nothing like some of the overly officious sisters on the wards. Especially considering she’d been nursing for almost forty years and had begun her training during the First World War, presumably never thinking she would have to nurse through a second war.
Beth had felt particularly bad for the older Irish lady, Mrs Ryan, who had been admitted as an emergency at about midnight. Not long after, Dessie Horton, the head porter, had turned up at theatre, along with the woman’s son, Lorcan. ‘He’s one of my lads,’ Dessie had whispered by way of an explanation. ‘His older brother appears to have been fencing something pretty serious because the bizzies arrived at the house before the ambulance. One of them told me her lad has jumped from Walton. He’s one of the Bevan gang. Mrs Ryan got caught by one of them coming to claim his loot. I’ll come by and take Lorcan home later. The bizzies want to talk to him and the poor boy hasn’t got a clue. I’m going to stand for him and make sure the bizzies know that.’
Beth knew who the Bevans were. She had come to hear of them within months of arriving in Liverpool. They were notorious and were named and shamed in the Echo on a regular basis. ‘The lives some people lead,’ she said to Dessie as she dropped two sterilizing tablets into a sink of hot water then carefully placed a kidney dish full of bloody forceps into it, followed by several glass syringes, one at a time.
‘Is it me, or are the streets becoming less safe nowadays?’ Dessie said. ‘Feels like as the black market disappears, robbing is becoming the thing to do.’
Beth had known neither, having lived a sheltered life in army camps. ‘I think it has more to do with the fact that while the war was on, there were fewer men around to cause trouble. The streets became safer and women stopped locking their doors. Women aren’t burglars, they don’t fight. They’re more inclined to look after each other than try and blow each other’s heads off.’
Dessie’s mouth dropped open. He was taken aback by Beth’s comments, but he couldn’t argue with her, he had heard Biddy say something similar often enough.
The operation to relieve the pressure on Mrs Ryan’s temporal lobe had lasted for four hours. Having never witnessed brain surgery before, it had made Beth queasy in a way no other surgery had. It was the sheer primitiveness of it. The slow drilling of the holes and the removal of part of the skull by joining the holes together and cutting a flap of the skull away using a small handsaw. The surgical expertise required was enormous, and the physical effort caused the surgeon to sweat profusely throughout.
‘Do we have nothing more sophisticated than this?’ she had whispered to Sister Pokey.
‘Well, pardon me.’ Sister Pokey peered at Beth over the top of her spectacles and her face mask. ‘You don’t consider that removing a section of the skull to prevent intracranial bleeding while being careful not to cause any further brain damage is in any way sophisticated, Nurse Harper? Why don’t you just fetch some more swabs, please. Although if you would prefer to stay and advise the surgeon on a more effective way to save his patient’s life, I am sure he would be most grateful to have you talk him through it.’
There followed a moment of silence, and then came the sound of the small hacksaw slicing through skull. The theatre was hot and the smell of blood and the bone dust filling the air made the normally stoic Beth feel nauseous. ‘Yes, Sister,’ she stammered. With her face as red as the blood on the surgeon’s boots, she turned away.
‘Nurse Harper,’ Sister Pokey called to her as she retreated. There was a note of sympathy in her voice. ‘It’s desperate measures. She is unlikely to survive anyway, but it is worth a try. There are so many potential complications. The pressure could build up again. She could be left with brain damage, or a nasty post-op infection. Our job, though, is to assist the surgeon to the best of our abilities. And remember, her son is part of the St Angelus family, so we go the extra mile to look after him and see him right, however primitive the procedure might seem. Now, with those swabs, we will need at least a dozen sterile crepe bandag
es and six twelve-inch by twelve-inch soft lint pads. We have to dress the head like a balloon in order to protect the area of the brain no longer covered by the skull, to prevent any further damage and to keep any infection out.’
‘Yes, Sister.’ Beth now felt stupid in addition to being lonely, single and left on the shelf. As she counted out the fresh swabs on to a new trolley, she wondered whether this was it. Would the rest of her life be spent walking up the path from Lovely Lane to St Angelus, while her friends all moved away and married? While they had babies of their own rather than delivered or nursed other people’s? She felt her friends drifting away from her already, even though they still had a while to go before finals. She had been so looking forward to theatre, but she had to admit that she missed the wards and even the buzz of visiting time.
As Beth made her way to the nurses’ home after her shift, having delivered Mrs Ryan on to the ward with her head bandaged and padded, the only thing to put a lift in her step was the fact that Victoria would probably be back by now, with news of Dana. When she got to Lovely Lane she took the stairs two at a time and burst into Victoria’s room without knocking. But the sight of Dana sitting on Victoria’s bed with Pammy’s arms around her stopped her dead in her tracks.
‘Dana, what are you doing here?’ Beth flung off her cape and then threw herself into Dana’s arms. ‘You aren’t due back here for ages. Have you left Teddy behind?’
‘No, she hasn’t,’ Victoria said. ‘He has come too, even though he can barely walk. He’s insisting on returning to work. Roland has taken him over to the doctors’ residence and Mr Mabbutt is going over and will hopefully talk some sense into him. But as it stands, he thinks he is back on the ward on Monday.’
Dana erupted into a fresh bout of tears and Beth pulled her into her. ‘There, there,’ she said. ‘Don’t cry. Mr Mabbutt will tell him it simply isn’t possible for him to return on Monday.’
‘It’s not just that.’ Dana pulled away from Beth and blew her nose. ‘He’s not my Teddy any more. He’s changed. I know he’s not fully recovered, but I think going back to work might be the best thing. Roland said he might have been going out of his mind with frustration or something.’
Pammy turned to Victoria, who was standing by the sink. ‘What do you think, Vic?’
Victoria looked paler than usual and tired. ‘He’s been like a bloody rude bear with a sore head, the worst patient I have ever met. I don’t know how you stuck it, Dana. I think the sheer anxiety of having to put up with his temper this week has made me ill.’
‘Oh, no, why?’ asked Pammy. ‘Was he that bad?’
‘Either that or it’s the car journey. I much prefer taking the train to Bolton, but there was no way Teddy could have made the journey on the train. He practically press-ganged Roland into driving us back. I’m not so bad in the front seat, but when you’re in the back, as me and Dana were, God, all those lanes. And Roland drives so fast. Here, move over,’ she said to Pammy. And, climbing on to the bed, she lay down. ‘I just need half an hour to get my stomach back.’
‘Well what a mess,’ said Beth. ‘Has Mrs Duffy fed you all?’
‘She has kept us all a lunch in the oven,’ said Pammy. ‘It’s shepherd’s pie. Mrs Duffy said to eat it quick or the gravy will dry up.’
Beth’s stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food. ‘Don’t move,’ she said as she jumped up. Her mouth was now watering and she could practically smell her lunch wafting up the stairs. ‘I’m starving. I’ll put it on a tray and bring up four forks, but I’m just going to my room to change first. Gravy for everyone?’
‘Oh, stop, please,’ groaned Victoria with her hand over her eyes.
‘Oops, that’ll be three forks then,’ said Beth.
‘Yes, but you had better be quick,’ said Pammy. ‘I saw Celia Forsyth hanging around the kitchen.’
‘Don’t move, anyone,’ shouted Beth and in a flash she was out of the room and gone.
Dana moved to the sink and ran the tap to splash her face. As she dried it, she turned towards the bed and said to Victoria, ‘Shall we tell Pammy?’
‘What? What?’ Pammy handed a mirror to Dana to check herself. ‘Tell me. What?’
‘I think we better had,’ said Victoria.
Pammy flopped on to the bed and slapped Victoria on the thigh. ‘Sit up. Tell me. What?’
‘On the way back from the doctors’ residence just now, after we dropped Teddy off, we saw Beth, but she didn’t see us.’
‘Well what’s so unusual about that? Knowing Beth, she was probably head down and marching. I’m sure that’s how her father taught her to walk. Do you think he shouts “Attention!” before he speaks to her?’ Pammy laughed at her own joke.
Dana and Victoria exchanged nervous glances.
‘You tell her,’ said Victoria. ‘I feel too goddam ill.’ She placed her hand on her brow and closed her eyes.
‘You are going down with something,’ said Pammy. ‘That’s not travel sickness.’
Dana sat herself on the chair at Victoria’s desk and using her two feet shuffled it closer to the bed. Putting her stockinged feet up on the bed, she said, ‘I am so glad to be back here with you lot, I can’t tell you.’
Pammy jumped up and kissed her on the cheek. ‘We’ve all missed you, Dana. Me mam and our Lorraine too. But stop changing the subject and tell me, what is it?’
‘OK, but you have to promise not to react, Pammy, or to fly off the handle. We have to make a plan and you only have a couple of minutes at the most to keep yourself together.’
‘Oh blimey O’Riley, what on earth is it? The suspense is killing me.’
‘Well, as we left the res we saw Beth with Oliver Gaskell. They were by the cedar tree on the corner at the back of the car park, and he was, well, oh my goodness, I don’t know how to say this. You are going to go stark staring crazy.’
‘What do you mean? Why would I do that?’ Pammy sat up and looked from one to the other. ‘What are you worried about? You know I cannot bear that womanizer. I bet you Beth was giving him a piece of her mind.’
Victoria snorted and Dana bit her lip.
‘No, she definitely wasn’t doing that, Pammy. Well, if she was, not in the way you might be thinking.’
‘In what way? Flamin’ hell, tell me.’
Dana took a deep breath, held Pammy’s gaze and spat it out. ‘Pammy, they were stood by the cedar tree and he was kissing her.’
‘Oh my giddy aunt, no! No!’ Pammy jumped to her feet and began pacing the floor, across to the window and back. ‘How? Why? Oh no, no. How could she? Has she lost her mind?’
The door to the room opened and Beth came in, balancing a hot plate on a tea towel in one hand and some forks in the other. ‘Oh no what?’ she asked as she looked around. ‘Has who lost their mind?’
‘Nothing. No, nothing,’ said Pammy as she threw a desperate glance towards Victoria.
‘It’s me,’ said Victoria. ‘She’s saying “oh no” because of me. Because I’m ill and it’s my first full day on theatre soon and I don’t know what to do and she thinks I’m mad for worrying about it.’
‘Really?’ A frown crossed Beth’s face. ‘But don’t worry, you are with me. It’s hardly a drama. Trust you, Pammy, you always make a mountain out of a molehill. If you had a bit more organization in your own life, you wouldn’t be so alarmed by minor matters in the lives of others. Now, Victoria, you obviously need a nap. A restorative kip to get over your car sickness. Mrs Duffy says everyone suffers from it with these new fast cars. She says that when you get to fifty miles an hour, and I bet Roland’s car reaches that, it does something to your insides. She said they wobble about and it takes your stomach a while to catch up with the rest of your body. I think she may have a point, although it’s more likely to be something to do with the inner ear.’
‘Well, I see nothing has changed while I’ve been away,’ said Dana crisply. She stood up from the chair and, glaring at Pammy, slapped her across the shoulders to stop
her from staring at Beth as though she had landed from another planet. ‘Beth laying down the law as always. You know, I’ve missed that, Beth. You keep us all in order. Always so sensible. Teddy should have had you looking after him, not me. Anyway, Beth, what’s your news?’
Victoria sat up and concentrated on Beth. Dana pulled her chair even closer. Pammy dived over Victoria and sat cross-legged on the pillow. ‘Yes, Beth,’ she said, ‘what’s your news? Anything you want to tell us? Me in particular?’
Beth sat at the desk and filled her mouth with mashed potato. ‘I’m starving. I haven’t eaten for hours,’ she said. ‘You lot talk while I eat and then I’ll tell you all about the new theatre and the brain surgery we had in overnight. Anyway, Dana, is Teddy back for good now?’
Beth had skilfully diverted the conversation away from herself. Just to make sure, she continued. ‘Did you set any dates, Vic, while you were up in Bolton with Roland? The married nurses rule applies to student nurses, you know. Now that Matron is abandoning it, you could easily get married.’
‘We won’t plan the wedding yet,’ said Victoria, ‘it would be just too hard from here. No, like I said, I will pass my finals first. I am absolutely determined that when I walk down the aisle, it will be as Staff Nurse Baker. And then I’ll know that if Mummy is looking down on me she can be proud.’
Beth had already zoned out. She found these sorts of girly conversations quite boring, but today there was another reason for her distraction and it was making swallowing her food difficult. She pushed her fork to one side and three pairs of eyebrows were raised heavenwards.
*
Over in the doctors’ residence, Teddy’s shouts could be heard along the corridor and all the way down the stairs in the doctors’ sitting room. ‘But I have to go back, don’t you see? I’ve come back to Liverpool to return to work, not to sit here in this box recuperating.’
The Mother's Of Lovely Lane Page 20