The Mother's Of Lovely Lane

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The Mother's Of Lovely Lane Page 35

by Nadine Dorries


  Victoria lifted her head. ‘I’m in such turmoil, Beth. Roland and I, we have had our first row and he won’t support me and I’ve never felt so alone and everything is just too much,’ Victoria let out a sob and her shoulders heaved as tears ran down her cheeks.

  Beth held her by the shoulders and looked into her face, ‘Goodness me, Victoria, having a baby isn’t that bad. You can get married very quickly and no one will be any the wiser. You can say it arrived early, like everyone else in your position does.’ Victoria almost pushed Beth away as she took her handkerchief out of her pocket.

  ‘No, that’s the point,’ she shouted. ‘This is the worst thing that could have happened to me. It is a dreadful mistake and, if Roland loved me, he would support me and not be as dreadful and as stubborn as he is. He refuses to listen to reason.’ Her nose began to run and her tears showed no sign of abating. Beth felt stunned into silence. If there was one man anywhere she felt would have supported and stood by his pregnant girlfriend, it was Roland.

  ‘Victoria, I don’t know what to say. I am so shocked. I cannot believe that someone like Roland would be such a cad, I would have thought that at the very least, he would be wanting a wedding as soon as possible.’ Victoria looked at Beth and furrowed her brow, as though she could not make out what Beth was saying.

  ‘What? But, he does. It’s not him, it’s me, Beth. I have to get to the end of this, to pass my finals, to become a Staff Nurse. It’s me, not him.’ Victoria blew her nose and her voice dropped to a whisper when she spoke again. ‘Beth, I want an abortion. I don’t want to go through with it.’

  Beth felt sick to the pit of her stomach. She swallowed hard, at first, not knowing what to say. Her arms fell from Victoria’s shoulders as her mind scrabbled around for an appropriate response, and then it dawned on her. ‘Do you see that woman in there on the operating table, Vic. She isn’t just a D and C. She’s having the retained products of pregnancy removed following a miscarriage, only, Sister Pokey said that it is as plain as the nose on her face it was a bad abortion and that the damage was awful. They are doing the D and C to remove infected tissue. That woman has been sick with a malaise and low grade temperature for over a year, too afraid to seek help because she knew, just like you and I know, it is illegal. Is that what you want? To become a criminal?’

  Victoria wrung her hands in despair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I am so confused. This is all wrong, everything is going horribly wrong.’ Both girls heard Sister Pokey’s voice as she approached the swing doors.

  ‘Quick,’ said Beth. ‘Hands in the sink, I will talk to her. Let’s chat on the way home, but Victoria, I will not stand by and watch you or even help you to commit a criminal act whilst you are in this distressed state. You have to make the decision calmly and with Roland – it is his baby too.’

  Victoria stuffed her handkerchief back into her pocket and cast a nervous glance towards the door. ‘I know, I know. I’m all over the place. One minute I agree with Roland. He says to pass my second-year exams and to finish off my training one day and when I am talking to him that seems sensible, but then, when I am on my own, I feel differently. I think of mummy and I wanted to make her so proud.’

  Beth almost laughed out loud. ‘Do you think your mother would not be proud of the match you have made with Roland? Of the wonderful mother you yourself would become? Of the wonderfully compassionate, capable and caring person you are now? There are so many reasons your mother would be proud of you, Victoria, so many. Don’t get hung up on just that one and, I am sorry, I have to say this, if she were here now instead of me, what would she say? What would make her proud? The baby growing in your belly. The flesh of her flesh. Or would your thoughts of an abortion make her prouder?’ Victoria paled and her lips wobbled. ‘Not now,’ whispered Beth. ‘We will get into trouble. Come on, back to work. Think a little harder and we will chat later.’

  Victoria, now composed, flicked the switch on the Little Sister as the sound of the buzzer filled the room. ‘Well, I know one thing,’ she said, ‘If you and Roland get your way, Auntie Minnie will now have to stop trying to match me up to her friends’ sons and she’ll have to accept Roland once and for all.’

  ‘Well, every cloud has a silver lining. You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone. Cross my heart and hope to die, I won’t tell a soul.’

  ‘I know,’ said Victoria. ‘I will tell the others just as soon as I have made a decision. Mrs Tanner is going to be very disappointed in me. I don’t think I can face the Tanners again. I’ll feel too ashamed. She would never forgive me.’

  ‘Well, there are secrets everywhere,’ said Beth. ‘Dessie Horton is organizing a big party for Sister Haycock’s birthday, so let’s just enjoy that for now, shall we? You and Roland need to talk face to face and to have a bit of fun.’

  ‘I think we’ve had too much fun, Beth, that’s part of the problem. I got my invitation this morning too, in the pigeonhole. It’s for Roland as well, which is nice. I saw Dana’s was still in her pigeonhole, I’ll take it back for her later. Did you see her earlier, by the way? She seemed in a real hurry coming down the lane off her night shift. I hope she’s OK.’ Victoria sighed at the thought of having to tell Dana her news. ‘I suppose she will disapprove, given her background. And I’ll have to face Sister Haycock too, and Matron. You see, if I have the abortion, no one will have to know.’

  She groaned and covered her face. ‘Yes, they will Victoria, stop kidding yourself. You will know – you will and I don’t think you will ever forgive yourself.’

  Beth grabbed Victoria’s hands and pulled them away from her face. ‘Listen, I will go and see Sister Haycock and Matron with you if, and I hope you do, decide to keep the baby and to get married. If I’m not allowed in, I’ll wait outside. You don’t have to tell anyone anything alone, Vic. I’m right by your side.’

  Victoria shot Beth a disappointed look. ‘You are with me, if I throw my career away, but not if I want an abortion. It would seem that neither you nor Roland are with me there.’

  Beth didn’t have time to reply as Bryan’s voice rang out from the doors. ‘Mrs Ryan here from the ward, Nurse.’

  There was always a sense of urgency when a trolley bed crashed in through the theatre doors. It was like the curtain going up on the first act of a play. Every thought and personal emotion was put on hold and the only concern was the case and the operation ahead. The porters, nurses and doctors all rushed into position, ready to act out their particular parts. Whatever the procedure, there was danger present; it was intimidating and everyone’s heart beat a little faster.

  *

  Dana almost ran through the gate as she made her way to the bench by the park keeper’s hut, opposite the pond. She was intrigued. Mr Mabbutt had told her not to mention to anyone that he’d asked her to meet him there. She had slipped back into the Lovely Lane home after her night shift to change out of her uniform and on her way out had called into the kitchen to beg some stale bread from Mrs Duffy so that she could feed the ducks.

  She shielded her eyes against the low, wintry sunlight and scanned the pond to see if Mr Mabbutt had taken pity on the ducks and decided to feed them also. As there was no sign of him yet, she focused on the ducks nearest to the bench so that he could easily spot her when he arrived. She had been throwing the bread across the water for ten minutes or so when a voice from behind made her jump.

  ‘Lucky ducks, living so close to the nurses’ home. I only have a new dual carriageway opposite my front door.’

  Dana smiled. She wasn’t sure what to say in response.

  ‘Come and sit down, would you,’ Mr Mabbutt said. ‘It’s cold out here, I know, but I have something I would really like to discuss with you.’

  Dana still didn’t say anything, just sat down on the bench next to him. She guessed it had to be about Teddy, and she hoped it wasn’t bad news. Was he going to say something dreadful about Teddy never being able to walk properly again? Or that he would need nursing care for the rest of his l
ife? Well, so what if that were to happen, she thought resolutely. She would be there for him. She would stick by her Teddy come what may, even if he had driven her half mad over the past weeks. He had been grumpy and miserable, but Dana had complete faith once he returned to work, he would be back to his old affectionate, funny and charming self.

  Mr Mabbutt pulled his plaid scarf closer around his neck and tucked it further down into his coat. He wore a dark grey felt hat pulled low over his brow and Dana noted that the wool of his coat and scarf looked of the highest quality and very expensive. It was nothing like what men wore back home in Ireland, which was more likely to be ripped and frayed donkey jackets and oversized caps. There was a nice smell about him too, of lemon and spice. She guessed he was about the same age as her da, who only ever smelt of peat and earth. She had been in Liverpool long enough now not to be goggle-eyed at the way some people dressed, but even so, she couldn’t help taking note. She looked at his gloves. They were made of the softest-looking leather and she had an urge to touch them, but she didn’t, she just slipped her hands inside her own pockets.

  He turned towards her slightly and began to talk. ‘Look, this is all a bit difficult and, I have to say, I wasn’t sure how I should go about this. But I’ve talked it over with the wife. I always do that – sensible woman, my wife. She was a nurse during the war, you know. In the Queen Alexandras.’

  He was talking fast now and staring at the pond. Dana had to concentrate hard to follow his train of thought.

  ‘She was an excellent nurse and she was about to be made into a theatre sister, but she gave it up to marry me.’ He gave a sharp little laugh. ‘Clever as she is, she was very stupid to do that, don’t you think?’

  Dana managed a brief, polite smile by way of reply.

  Mr Mabbutt slipped his hand deep inside the top of his coat and pulled out a pipe. Removing a tin from one of his coat pockets, he began to stuff threads of tobacco into the bowl.

  While Dana waited patiently for him to finish, her mind raced ahead of her. Was he about to tell her that she’d need to give up her nurse training to look after Teddy? Just like his wife had, though for different reasons. The thought made her gut churn. That really would be a huge sacrifice. Her mammy had never stopped bragging to anyone who would listen about how proud of Dana she was. During her holiday home a few months earlier, she had almost laughed out loud at how everyone on the village appeared to have placed her on a pedestal. She had cracked the mould. She would never be a farm girl. Her life was to take a different path and if that was what he was about to tell her, she would be torn. There would have to be another way. She could not let her family down like that. It wasn’t as though she and Teddy were even married. Her parents would never understand.

  Mr Mabbutt slowly replaced the tobacco tin and removed a silver lighter. Flicking the lid, he turned the flint until it ignited, then puffed and puffed on his pipe, enveloping them both in a cloud of the sweetest-smelling smoke. Rather than coughing, Dana inhaled deeply. Teddy had taught her to smoke cigarettes and it had made her feel very sophisticated, but this heavenly smell reminded her more of the fireside at home. The blocks of peat burning in their huge fireplace and her da in his chair, his feet stretched out before him after a long day of hard physical work on the farm, puffing slowly on his own pipe until he dozed off. Either she or her ma would then rescue the pipe from his lips, just as it began to slip.

  Much as she loved seeing that familiar picture in her head, of her family at home, there was no sentiment attached. Life on the farm was hard and she was well aware how lucky she was to have had the opportunity to change her prospects and earn a decent living of her own, doing something she loved. Nurse training might be tough, but it was nothing like being a farmer’s wife.

  Mr Mabbutt was certainly taking his time. He’d now placed the pipe on his thigh and was holding it with one hand, cupping the bowl between his fingers. He was precise and slow in everything he did. Nothing was rushed.

  She leant back against the bench and watched as the ducks swam towards them and fanned out across the water. The message had gone out that she had bread. The sun bounced off the ripples and reflected the pruned trees around the edge and the manicured lawns beyond.

  ‘I know you are probably wondering why I wanted to see you. It’s why I had to speak to my wife first, because this isn’t really anything to do with the hospital.’

  He shuffled on the bench and turned to face her. Dana noticed that his eyes were a very pale grey and that the lines around his eyes became deeper as he squinted to protect them from the sun.

  ‘I didn’t think I could go to Matron, and the wife told me not to. She said that Matron wouldn’t understand because she’s had no experience of affairs of the heart herself. Never known a romance, has Matron.’

  Dana had no idea what he was on about. All she did know was that her heart was now beating faster and she was fighting off an overwhelming instinct to flee because she could sense by the graveness of his expression and the seriousness of his voice that he was about to tell her some very bad news.

  ‘Shall we walk?’ he asked and she jumped to her feet. ‘I think there’s a wooden tea hut or something over by the other gate, isn’t there?’

  ‘Yes, there is.’ At last he was asking a question that she understood and could answer. ‘We often call in there at weekends if we have an off-duty day. The owner likes it that he has nurses calling in. I haven’t been for ages though,’ she replied.

  He nodded sympathetically, well aware that nursing Teddy had been a full-time undertaking. Dana wanted to ask him straight out what this was all about, but his seniority and her training prevented her. It would not have felt right, even given the extraordinary situation they were now in, walking around the duck pond towards the tea cabin. What would people think if they saw us, she wondered.

  ‘You are probably asking yourself what this is all about, aren’t you?’ He didn’t wait for her response. ‘Well, I wanted to tell you my story. Or, should I say, our story, mine and my wife’s.’ He stared resolutely at his smart leather shoes as he continued, the words tumbling out almost faster than Dana could take them in. ‘There was a time before the war when we were apart and I thought she would never want to marry and that nursing meant more to her than me. She was one of those who was destined to become a matron. Nothing frightened her and she never doubted her own ability. Scared the life out of me, she did. We weren’t very good at communicating with one another in those days, you see. It wasn’t really the done thing, to confide in each other.’

  He gave Dana a wry smile and, stopping suddenly, bent down and banged his pipe against a bin with the back of his hand before slipping it back inside his coat.

  ‘So I went off like a bear with a sore head and… I have to say that what I did, well, I am not very proud of.’

  Dana looked at him with a quizzical expression on her face. This conversation was not turning out as expected. He appeared uncomfortable. It was as if he assumed she could read his mind, but she really had no idea what he was on about.

  ‘Look, Nurse Brogan, I shan’t beat about the bush. Fact is, I was not as faithful as I should have been to my future wife – not that I knew she was to be my future wife then, of course. Do you understand? There was a lady and I made a terrible mistake.’ Now he was looking at her directly, as though to emphasize his point.

  Dana blushed bright red until her face almost matched the colour of her hair.

  ‘Quite. Good. You get my meaning, that’s excellent. However, I very quickly knew what a foolish man I had been. An idiot. A numskull of the highest order. And this is something I would like you to understand: we men, we are not as clever as we like you to think we are. In fact, we’re nowhere near as clever as we think we are.’

  Much to Dana’s relief, they had now reached the hut. Her thoughts were reeling and she was desperately trying to make sense of what she was being told and why. The vendor was setting up a wooden easel outside, advertising Cornish ic
e cream. Recognizing Dana immediately, he said, ‘Hello, Nurse, haven’t seen you for a while. How’s that doctor of yours? The other nurses told me. Terrible business.’

  Dana was grateful for the conversation and the change of subject. ‘He’s getting better, thanks. A bit cold for the ice cream, isn’t it?’

  ‘I know, I know, but you would be surprised how many buy ice cream in the winter. Bring your dad inside and I’ll get you both a nice cup of tea.’

  She looked at Mr Mabbutt and they both grinned. ‘An honour, I’m sure,’ he said as he opened the door for her.

  Once they were sitting down with the tea and the vendor was outside cleaning the windows, they continued their conversation.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize this place was so small,’ he said. ‘Anyway, what my wife said I should do was tell you our story.’

  ‘But why on earth would she ask you to do that?’ Dana had gone from scared to confused. She picked up her tea and held it in front of her as though to ward off his reply.

  ‘Ah, well now, someone else will have to explain that bit. That’s not for me to do.’

  His cryptic answers were starting to exasperate her. But he clearly had more to say.

  ‘My wife and I have had thirty years of joy. We have three fine sons who I hope will never make the mistake their father did. I nearly didn’t have my wonderful wife because she very nearly treated me like the idiot I was. I deserved to be punished, but she demonstrated how exceptional she was by being understanding. She didn’t take the moral high ground and that is a measure of the woman, of her intelligence. You see, she could have responded to me with her heart, in an emotional way, but instead she used her head. We talked and as a result we have led the most blissful life. But what my wife doesn’t know is that I have never forgotten how close I came to losing her. Not a day goes by when I don’t do some little thing to try and make it up to her. Maybe if we hadn’t had our trials in the early days, things would not have been as wonderful. It could be that I needed to be forced to appreciate how special what I already had was. What I do know is that I should have talked to her long before I risked everything. I should have put my stupid male ego away, been more sympathetic and listened to my future wife.’

 

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