There was an open bottle of lemonade with a glass next to it on the dresser and Beth thought this was also unusual. She had never known Victoria to drink lemonade before. She was a champagne girl and often sneaked a bottle back with her when she went home to Bolton and then called them into her room to share it. Afterwards she would bribe the maid with an eye shadow or some trinket to dispose of the bottle. Beth cast her eye around the room. It took less than a minute to find the scarf. It was exactly where she had last left it. Victoria has more clothes than she can wear in a month, she thought, as she took it down from the shelf.
Placing the scarf around her neck, she took a pen out of the pretty bone-china jug on Victoria’s desk and looked for a blank piece of paper to write on. ‘Hello, Vic, bringing work home?’ she said out loud as she saw a path-lab report lying open on the dresser. All reports had to be punched and filed in the back of the patient’s notes ready for the doctor to see during the morning ward rounds. Beth could not imagine why anyone would bring one home. Maybe Victoria had brought it back in her uniform pocket by mistake.
The words at the top of the form drew her attention. Pathology Department: Hogben Test. That was even odder. Victoria was working with her on theatre, and the only places the Hogben Test was used were on gynae on ward two, and maternity. Neither of them had been on gynae and nurses were only put on maternity for the last placement of their training.
Beth reached out and picked up the flimsy carbon-copy paper of the test report. She could not believe what she was seeing. She had to bring it closer to her face before her eyes could take it in. The name on the report said simply: Mrs B Victor.
‘Mrs B Victor? B. Victor. Was this a play on words? Victoria Baker. No, it can’t be, surely not?’ Beth placed her hand over her mouth as if to stem her own words. It was surely too much like Victoria’s name to be a coincidence. Next she looked at the box bearing the signature of the doctor requesting the test. When she saw that it had been signed by Pammy’s boyfriend, Anthony Mackintosh, she realized the truth. The fainting, the sickness, the stale smell in the room, even the open bottle of lemonade – it all pointed to one thing. Vic was pregnant.
Did Pammy already know? Was Beth the only one who didn’t? Were they all keeping secrets from her? Beth felt lonelier than ever. And here was I, thinking I had the biggest secret of all, she thought as she laid the path-lab report down, picked up the scarf and slipped out of the room to get ready for her evening out.
Oliver Gaskell had hounded her relentlessly for this date. He had asked her exactly fourteen times before she said yes; twice a day over the past week. He had sent notes, cornered her yet again in the clean utility room in theatre and outside the changing-room door. Most daringly, he’d sent another letter via Jake to the nurses’ home.
It was only when she saw him outside the park gates on the opposite side of Lovely Lane when she was returning from a split shift that she thought she had better speak to him. He was becoming more foolhardy in his methods and she worried that the others would be bound to find out soon. He had obviously seen the off-duty and decided to wait for her.
‘What are you doing here?’ she practically shouted at him. ‘I have told you, what happened was a once-only. It will never happen again. Mrs Duffy will see you if you hang around here. Now please go away.’
‘Are you mad?’ he practically shouted back as he grabbed hold of her arm. ‘You can’t do this, you can’t just ignore me and refuse to answer my letters. I know you have been avoiding me. Sister Pokey told me you had requested off-duty on my list day and she almost sneered at me! It was like she was telling me to stick to the qualified nurses for my operations in future. Why are you doing this? Are you trying to punish me for something?’
‘You know why. I told you. It was a once-only occurrence. You have a reputation for being a bit of a rake and it is not one I want to be associated with. Besides, you will only get fed up of me. I’m just boring old Beth. I am not your type.’
She glanced across the road to the nurses’ home to make sure no one was watching. She thought she saw the net curtain in Pammy’s room twitch, but it must have been the breeze. The sash was open at the bottom by a couple of inches, but there was no one there.
‘If you don’t at least agree to meet me for a drink and let me try to persuade you of my honourable intentions, I shall simply continue to keep asking you until you do.’
They were standing near the bus stop and Beth looked nervously over towards the front door. Mrs Duffy would be waiting to serve her her lunch before catching the bus home for the afternoon, but pretty soon she’d assume Beth had been asked to stay at work and would then come out for her bus and see them there.
Oliver Gaskell saw her looking and noticed her anxiety. ‘Hello!’ he shouted and waved his arms frantically in the direction of the home.
‘What in God’s name are you doing?’ said Beth.
‘I’m asking you for a date and it appears that the only way I am going to get you to agree is to embarrass you into it.’
‘Hello!’ He jumped up and down and continued waving wildly.
Beth shot him another look. There was someone in Pammy’s room, was there? Could it be the maid? Or was Pammy at the home? She usually spent her days off with Maisie. ‘Look, you are an idiot. Please, stop it. Where shall I meet you, and when?’
Oliver Gaskell grinned broadly. It was obvious he’d never faced such a challenge when trying to get a nurse out on a date.
As she walked back into the nurses’ home, Beth headed straight to Pammy’s room. ‘I’m just going upstairs for a wash, Mrs Duffy. I can help myself to lunch. Don’t miss your bus, just leave mine in the oven,’ she shouted through to the kitchen as she ran up the stairs. If Pammy was home, if she had heard them outside talking or seen the way he had pulled her to him and planted a very firm kiss straight on her mouth, she would be furious. Beth knew she needed to speak to her and explain, before things went any further or Pammy told anyone else. Above all, Beth did not want that.
‘Pammy, are you in?’ she shouted as she opened the door. She looked around. The room was empty. Not a sign of her. She must have been imagining it. Maybe it had been the maid after all.
As the door banged shut behind her and Beth’s footsteps receded down the hallway, Pammy slipped out of the wardrobe. She had not wanted Beth to speak to her. She wanted to tell the others what she had seen. This was serious.
*
Roland and Victoria had decided to go to the Grapes for their drink. ‘Let’s grab a seat by the fire,’ Victoria suggested. They waited at the door to let several bowler-hatted gents out first, clearly on their way home having stopped in for a pint or two after work. Most of the rest of the clientele were younger, wearing Teddy-boy slicks, perms and kitten heels, and looked as if they would be there until closing. Victoria spotted a corner booth. ‘Here we go,’ she said as she slipped on to the red leather seat.
‘Marvellous. What would you like to drink?’ said Roland.
‘Oh, just a lemonade, please.’ She extended her hands towards the fire to warm them and waited for Roland to return.
‘Here you go. I bought us some pork scratchings.’ He popped one in his mouth before taking a big swig of his drink.
Victoria caught the whiff of the roasted pigskin and it took every bit of willpower not to heave.
‘Have you had any more thoughts about what we should do?’ Roland asked as he sat down. ‘I’m depending upon you, darling. You are the wise one and you know Dana better than I do. You know, I can’t stop thinking about my stupid brother. I am so worried for him. I almost suggested that he and Dana come out with us tonight and then, you know, I thought that might help us to make up our minds.’
‘Roland, could you just forget about Teddy for a moment, as awful as it all is. I have something else I need us to talk about.’
‘Oh yes, sorry, darling. Is something wrong? I can tell you aren’t yourself. You look a little pale, if I am being entirely honest.’ Roland
placed his arm around Victoria’s shoulders and hugged her into him. ‘Tell me then. What is it?’
Victoria took a sip of her lemonade. She had discovered that this was one drink she could actually enjoy. She couldn’t stomach anything milky and it seemed like an age since anything that could legitimately be classed as proper food had stayed down for longer than ten minutes.
Over the last few days she had thought long and hard about how best to tell Roland her news. She’d decided to ease him in as gently as possible. ‘Roland, have you heard of the Hogben Test?’
He lifted his head and looked at her in alarm. ‘No, but it sounds, oh, I don’t know, serious, darling. Serious and scientific. Is it something you are stuck on for the exams? I’m not sure I am the person to help. Science wasn’t my thing at school. It was Teddy’s though. I suppose that’s why he became a doctor. Have you asked him?’
This wasn’t going in the direction she’d hoped. She was feeling weary and sorry for herself, but she knew she had to plough on. She tried another tack. ‘Do you remember, Roland, telling me what a lot of fun you used to have with Teddy as children, in your garden at home, playing in the tree house and everything? Well…’ She cleared her throat, less discreetly than she’d intended.
‘Are you all right?’ interjected Roland. ‘You aren’t sick, are you? You do look terribly pale.’
‘Er, well, the thing is, Roland, that test I mentioned… I had it done because I thought I might be pregnant. And… I am. I’m pregnant.’
Roland did not say a word.
Victoria took another sip of her lemonade. ‘Gosh, I needed that, my mouth was dry, I was so worried about telling you.’ She turned to look at him. ‘Roland, Roland, are you OK?’
Before he could answer, Roland fainted clean away.
‘Is he all right, love?’ the barman shouted over. Victoria let Roland’s head collapse on to her knee. ‘Not drunk after one pint, is he?’
‘No, no,’ Victoria shouted back. ‘He will be fine in a moment. He’s had a bit of a shock.’ She remembered what Maisie had said when she herself had fainted at the Tanners’ and she almost shouted back, ‘He’s passed the eleven-plus and forgot to tell me,’ but she thought better of it.
‘You’re one of the angels from the hospital, aren’t you? Live in over at the home?’ said the barman.
‘I am,’ said Victoria, with a lift in her voice.
‘I thought so. Well, he’s in good hands then. If I’d spotted you when you walked in, I wouldn’t have charged for those drinks. When miladdo wakes up, the next round is on the house.’
Victoria smiled. The barman was called away to serve another customer and she looked down at Roland and stroked his hair. The colour was slowly creeping back into his cheeks and soon he would open his eyes. ‘From the moment you wake up, my love, nothing will ever be the same again,’ she whispered. For the first time in weeks, she felt hungry. Leaning over Roland’s slumped body, she picked up the packet of pork scratchings and began to munch.
*
Oliver Gaskell was already waiting outside the pub, pacing up and down. He seemed nervous. Beth smiled to herself as she watched him. He looked nothing like the extremely confident man he portrayed himself to be and was a sight for sore eyes.
‘Ah, thank you for not letting me down,’ he said as she approached.
‘Really,’ said Beth rather tartly, ‘am I the sort to do that?’
‘Gosh, you do take some winning over, don’t you? I thought that the last time we were together… well, that it might have been the start of something more permanent. Didn’t think I would have to fight this hard for a second date.’
‘I am afraid that was your error,’ said Beth. ‘I am sure you have never let any nurse assume she was a permanent feature in your life after one date.’
‘I had thought it was more than a date.’
Beth’s resolve weakened. He looked downcast. The truth was she didn’t know what it was she had fallen for: the excitement he offered, the status of being the girlfriend of a consultant, his reputation as the hospital Casanova, or one-uppance on her friends, who she was sure thought her life path was on a trajectory quite different from theirs.
‘Now that you are here, shall we go inside for a drink?’
She softened. After all, she chided herself, this is the man who took your virginity. You spent the most exciting afternoon of your life with him. Throw him a bone, be nice. ‘That would be most enjoyable,’ she said. ‘But please don’t think that the evening will end up the way our last date did. And do not take this drink as evidence of any change in our relationship. I am not your girlfriend.’
His face broke into a grin, despite her words. He didn’t care what she said, he was in with a chance. ‘Message received and understood.’ He mock saluted her and opened the pub door for her to pass through.
Beth’s father always did that, mock saluted when he saw her, with the same look on his face. Even if in every other respect Oliver Gaskell was a million miles from her beloved army captain father. She grinned; he did make her smile, and that was something she could not stop happening.
‘They have a nice fire in here,’ he said, ‘and they serve a good pint too. Shall I take your coat and lovely green scarf?’
Beth didn’t reply. She was too busy staring at Victoria, who was holding Roland’s head down between his legs.
17
Since he’d discovered the money in his mam’s handbag, Lorcan had become very nervous about what else he might find whenever he visited her on the ward. He continued to call in every evening, either before or after his shift, depending on whether he was on night duty or not. The doctor had told him it would be at least another month before she would be allowed home and Lorcan felt almost relieved. He could carry on staying at Biddy’s, while the hospital cared for his mam.
As soon as he arrived at the ward he always asked the night staff nurse the same question. ‘Has she had any more visitors today?’
The response was always the same. ‘No, only yourself.’ But tonight there was a pause before the nurse answered and it made Lorcan’s heart thump. ‘It says here that a Mrs Delaney came today.’ She turned over the page. ‘Pardon me, I forgot, but a Mrs Kennedy came yesterday. They both work here, don’t they? Noleen used to clean the main corridor on nights. I only see her occasionally now.’
‘That’s right,’ said Lorcan. ‘She’s Paddy Delaney’s wife.’
Staff Nurse looked surprised. ‘What, the new night watchman?’
‘Yes, so Mrs Delaney only has to work two nights a week now.’
Staff Nurse picked up the charts at the end of his mother’s bed as she spoke. ‘Well now, isn’t that great. He’s the one grafting and bringing the bacon home. The poor woman always looked so tired. Is she putting her feet up now?’
Lorcan hadn’t a clue. It was a reasonable assumption. ‘I think so,’ he said.
‘Isn’t it marvellous,’ she said. ‘He probably earns more than I do and I’m a qualified nurse, but you see, I’m not a man. Do you know, the charge nurse on ward eight earns exactly double what I do and yet I qualified five years before he did.’
Lorcan stared at her, eyes blinking.
‘I’m sorry, Lorcan, I shouldn’t go on at you. You have it tough enough already without listening to my complaints. Funny world we live in, though, don’t you think? I know it’s because we get married and stop work, so it doesn’t really matter, does it, but that won’t last for ever. They will want us doing two jobs soon, raising a family and working full time. Mrs Delaney should take the rest while she can get it.’
She wrote something on the chart and then looked up towards his mam, who was resting against the pillows with a contented half smile on her face. ‘Are you in any pain, Mrs Ryan?’ she asked.
Mrs Ryan shook her head. ‘No, no pain, not now my Lorcan is here.’ She turned to Lorcan and smiled.
‘I have told her already once tonight, and I’m not going to mention it again in case I worry her,
but you do know she’s off to theatre again tomorrow? They have to fit a metal plate over where they removed the piece of her skull. She won’t have to wear those enormous bandages any more then, not once it knits and settles, anyway. That will be there to protect her brain from any knocks or bumps in the future.’
Lorcan’s eyes were wide with amazement.
‘Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near as serious as what she had done before and not as dangerous either. She will have forty-eight hours of being groggy and you remember what that was like, don’t you? We will have oxygen in here and she will be on a drip, but, honestly, after a few days she will be no different to how she is tonight. It’s an operation to help put her right, not to treat anything.’
Lorcan let out a long sigh of relief.
‘Don’t you even think about a thing, there is nothing to worry about. Just come along as usual tomorrow evening. I just wanted to prepare you for what you will find when you get here, that’s all.’
‘There is nothing to worry about.’ The words ran riot in Lorcan’s mind as he made his way out of the hospital gates. Nothing to worry about? If only that were the case. He ran towards St Chad’s and the sound of the Angelus bell. He gave thanks in church every day for Paddy and Dessie and everyone he now depended upon. He could not imagine what he would have done without them all.
As he turned towards the church steps, he noticed the ominous presence of a police car as it crawled across the top of the road. He had seen it by the hospital gates as he had left the ward. They were watching him and he knew why. He swallowed hard as his mouth became dry with fear.
Almost throwing himself into the pew, he clasped his hands together and pointed them heavenwards as they shook. He didn’t bother to look for Noleen; he knew she was at the meeting in Biddy’s house. The meeting about him and the danger he had put everyone in. That Noleen would miss Mass was a measure of how serious things were.
The Mother's Of Lovely Lane Page 33