Cara turned back to Julia. “You see, I can help.”
Edith’s head popped out of the second-story window. “Julia! She is very far along, and I don’t like the position of the baby.”
There was nothing for it but to allow Cara to stay. Julia jumped down from the carriage.
“Your skin, not mine,” she heard the cabman mutter before he quickly drove away.
For better or worse, Julia needed Cara. But she wasn’t going to leave her here on the street. “Come upstairs with me,” she directed. “You can watch over the children there.”
Cara scooped up Jemmie and took Sam’s hand as naturally as if she were a mother herself, and they followed Julia up the stairs.
Julia and Edith enlisted the help of Hettie and Doreen, another friend of Sybil’s, to locate things they needed and to bring up water from the community well and as many cloths as they could spare. The room was filthy, and the water was cold. While Julia understood Sybil’s fear of dying of puerperal fever in a hospital, remaining here had big disadvantages. At least Edith had been able to bring soap and a few other supplies. It would have to do.
As the labor progressed, Edith appeared more and more out of her depth; her clinical work at the teaching hospital had been primarily in the surgical wards, so her experience in midwifery was minimal. After years of working at the hospital for women and children, it was Julia who had the skills needed for this situation.
Julia lost all sense of time. When at last they’d escorted the baby girl safely into the world, Julia let out a sigh of satisfaction.
Edith wiped her forehead and sent Julia a tired smile. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
“You would have managed,” Julia assured her. “You are clever and resourceful, which surely are the two things most needed for a physician.”
Edith shook her head, still regretting her lack of experience. “I suppose I should have taken the opportunity to spend three months at the lying-in hospital in Dublin. But there were things here in England that were more pressing.”
“Do you think you’ll go next year?” Julia asked when Edith did not elaborate.
“Perhaps.” But the way she said it made it sound unlikely.
They put the babe on Sybil’s breast, and Julia was relieved to see that the mother, although exhausted and malnourished, was able to produce milk to satisfy the child. With the help of the other women, they were able to get Sybil cleaned up and comfortable.
Cara stood in the doorway. “Is it all right to bring in Sam and Jemmie? They’re anxious to see their new little sister.”
Before Julia or Edith could answer, Sam burst through the door and ran over to the bed, crying out for his mama. She gave him a weak but happy hug. Cara followed, holding Jemmie, who appeared more asleep than awake, her head resting on Cara’s shoulder. Cara laid the child gently on the little pallet in the corner that functioned as the children’s bed.
“Oh, my poor sweet Jemmie,” Sybil said, giving her daughter a tender glance. “She will miss her mama’s milk from now on, but I fear I won’t have any to spare.”
Hettie and Doreen fussed about the bed, keeping Sam at arm’s length while he scrutinized the baby.
Cara looked out the window at the darkness and said worriedly, “What time is it?”
Edith pulled out a watch from her pocket. “It’s past eight.”
“Oh no!” Cara exclaimed. “The housekeeper will have my hide for not getting back when I promised.”
“Yes, we need to get you home,” Julia agreed.
While they’d been in the tenement, they’d been surrounded by constant noise: men and women talking, or arguing, or laughing; children running up and down stairs; babies crying. Now as Julia looked out at the street below, she felt a twinge of worry. Walking here in broad daylight had not given her much apprehension, but darkness gave the area a sinister feel.
Edith evidently felt a few qualms herself. “I wish I’d had the presence of mind to ask the cabbie to come back in a few hours.”
“I’m not sure he would have done it,” Julia answered. “He did not seem to like coming here.”
Edith nodded. “It can be rather daunting.”
As if to punctuate her remark, they saw a man being tossed out of the building next door by a burly fellow who shouted, “If you dare show up here again, I’ll do more than just cuff ya!”
The hapless fellow stumbled to his feet and ran off.
“Why don’t I walk with you as far as Columbia Road?” Doreen suggested. “After that, it’s constables and cab stands on every block.”
“Doreen grew up in this neighborhood,” Hettie explained. “You will be safe with her.”
The women accepted this offer gratefully and gave a few final instructions to the new mother and Hettie.
“Will you come tomorrow?” Sam asked as Cara hugged him good-bye.
Cara looked distressed at the question, unwilling to lie.
“Sam, come over here and help me,” Hettie called. “Your mama’s hair is in a tangle. Let’s help her comb it out.”
His attention immediately returning to his mother, Sam went to the bedside as he was bidden. The others took the opportunity to slip out of the room.
“You’ll write to tell me how they are all getting along, won’t you?” Cara asked as they made their way down the stairs.
Julia assured her she would.
Following Doreen’s lead, they went up the alleyway and turned onto a wider road. The streetlamps were sparse and not very bright, leaving much of the sidewalk in murky shadows.
“‘I will never leave thee nor forsake thee,’” Julia murmured to herself.
Doreen appeared not the least bit daunted. “This is my time of day,” she told them. “Darkness is as good as daytime if you know where you’re going. And what to avoid.”
She led them confidently along block after block of run-down houses, dingy taverns, and secondhand shops. There were plenty of people on the streets, and no one seemed to pay any mind to four women. Julia even began to feel at ease.
It wasn’t until they reached a particularly seedy-looking gin shop that the trouble began. The sound of a fierce argument was clearly audible through the open door, and through the shop’s grimy window, they could see a commotion.
“What’s going on, Fred?” Doreen asked, as a man slunk out of the doorway.
“Myrtle’s got everyone in an uproar. Says the bobbies is up in arms ’cause a toff was beaten and robbed. Now they’re out for blood. I recommended everyone makes themselves scarce, but they’re too busy arguing over who mighta done it. I say it’s better to save yourself first and worry about the particulars later.”
He gave a nervous glance up and down the street before walking off in the direction Julia and the others had just come.
Inside, the shouting got louder, and one of the men struck the woman so hard her knees buckled. She moaned, her hands covering her face, and cringed, evidently expecting another blow.
Gasping in anger, Doreen ran inside.
Feeling it wasn’t any safer out on the streets, Julia and the others followed.
“Leave Myrtle alone!” Doreen shouted at the man, shoving him out of the way.
Julia was amazed at her bravery. The man was so surprised that he merely stood there, gaping at her.
Julia and Edith went to Myrtle, raising her to her feet. Julia gently pulled her hand from her cheek and inspected the wound. She’d have a bad bruise tomorrow, but at least the skin wasn’t broken.
Still reeling from the blow, Myrtle tried to speak. “We gotta get out of here! I’m telling you—”
“Shut up, girl,” the man said. “No one’s listening to you. But who’s this?” he asked, his attention diverted to the newcomers.
“These are doctors, Bob,” Doreen answered. “They came to help Sybil deliver her baby.”
“Lady doctors? I ain’t never heard of that.”
“There are plenty of things in the world you don�
��t know about,” Doreen retorted. “But you leave them alone. I’m helping them get home.”
“What’s the hurry? We’re a congenial lot. Have a spot of gin first.” He sidled over to Cara, who stood near the window. “I’ve got a little ailment I’d like to ask you about.”
“We all do!” another man chimed in, and the men guffawed.
“Cara, come over here.”
Julia injected quiet authority into her voice, hoping that would keep the men at bay. It wasn’t enough, however. When Cara tried to comply, another man reached for her and caught hold of her sleeve. It tore as she tried to wrench free, and he grabbed for her waist.
From outside came the clatter of approaching horses, drowning out the other noises in the street.
“Thank heaven, it’s the police!” Cara exclaimed.
Her words set off panic inside the shop. Men and women scrambled for the back exit, even as the police wagon drew to a halt and half a dozen policemen jumped off. “They’re getting out the back!” one called, and two of the bobbies disappeared around the side of the building in pursuit.
The others raced into the shop, brandishing nightsticks. “Everyone over here!” one of them shouted, circling around those who hadn’t made it to the exit and forcing them into a corner.
Cara tried to push her way through them to the constable who was giving orders. “Sir, thank you for coming! We were just—”
But another policeman took rough hold of her arm. “Come with me, and no talking.”
Julia saw the shock on Cara’s face as she recognized what was happening. They were getting rounded up like prostitutes or thieves. It was understandable. Aside from the fact that they’d been found among the suspects, after the hours they’d spent in the dirty tenement and the messy business of childbirth, they must have looked as disreputable as the others.
Edith said, “Constable, you’re making a mistake. We are honest citizens—”
“You can explain yourself to the magistrate,” he answered, forcing her into the corner with the others.
One of the two policemen who’d gone around the side of the building came in the back door. He was dragging a woman with him. “The others got away, but I managed to catch this one,” he reported.
The woman cursed and struggled against his hold. “You ain’t takin’ me in. I ain’t done nothin’ wrong. You ain’t gonna subject me to that disgusting examination.”
The policeman shoved her forward, but that was a mistake. Quick as a flash, she drew a knife from her boot and lunged at him. He tried to fend her off with his nightstick, but she struck his hand. Julia saw the blade sink into his flesh. The woman withdrew the knife just as fast, and the policeman cursed in shock and pain.
She was a wily opponent. She’d planned the attack so that his instinctive response would be to step to one side. This freed her path to the door, and she took it. But she kept brandishing the knife, facing everyone in the room.
None of the policemen moved. Julia was surprised at this. Were they afraid? They watched the woman intently, and yet also ensured none of the other women tried anything similar.
The woman kept backing away, every muscle tense as she prepared to make a final bolt for the back exit. She was almost at the door when the last policeman came through it. Seeing what was happening, he pulled out his nightstick and struck her across the back with a forceful blow that sent her sprawling forward. Julia couldn’t tell whether the stick had landed on her head as well. The woman hit the rough wood floor with a sickening thud. The knife fell out of her hand and clattered to the ground mere inches from her face.
“Assault with a deadly weapon,” the constable said, picking up the knife. “She’ll be lucky if that ‘disgusting exam’ is the worst thing that happens to her.”
The policeman she’d attacked was still howling in agony, holding his bleeding hand.
Julia started forward but was immediately restrained. “I can help him!” she insisted.
“Don’t come near me!” the wounded man growled. He pulled a rag off a nearby table and began to wrap it around his hand. Knowing what she did about germ theory, Julia cringed at the thought of that filthy rag on an open wound.
“Get ’em in the wagon before they try something else,” the constable ordered the other men.
They began to lead off the women two at a time. “Where did that little blond one go?” one of them said.
Julia looked around in confusion. Sure enough, her sister was nowhere to be seen.
“Cara!” she shouted. How had she managed to slip away? “Cara!”
“Little chit musta slipped out during the knife fight,” the constable growled. “I’ll search the building just to be sure she’s not hiding somewhere.”
Julia and Edith were forcibly taken to the wagon along with the other women. “I can’t leave my sister!” Julia protested as a policeman pushed her inside the wagon.
“Don’t worry. If we find her, we’ll be sure to bring her along later.” His voice was hard and menacing. Julia had never been afraid of policemen until today. It was a shocking and unnerving feeling.
There was nothing she could do but pray as the police van hurtled toward the station, leaving Cara behind.
CHAPTER
17
THE WOMEN CLUNG to the wooden benches nailed to either side of the wagon’s interior, trying to keep from being thrown to the floor as the vehicle turned a corner. The woman who’d been knocked unconscious had been tossed into the van like a sack of potatoes. Doreen said her name was Eliza. Julia was trying to keep both herself and Eliza from pitching around the wagon.
Her heart was in as much turmoil as her body. Where had Cara disappeared to? Julia didn’t know which was worse—the thought of her sister being caught and manhandled by policemen, or fear of what could happen to her if she was left to roam the cruel streets alone.
“I’m sorry about your sister,” Doreen said. “I shouldn’t have led you into that gin shop. But when I saw Bob being such a brute to Myrtle, I just had to stop him.”
“You’re a good one to risk yourself for me,” Myrtle said. “I’m worried about Eliza, though. She got the worst of it. Do you think she’ll be all right?”
Doreen’s compassion did not extend that far. “Serves her right for attacking that bobby. He was right about the kind of treatment she’ll get for that.”
“No, Doreen,” Edith remonstrated. “Nobody deserves to be struck down like a dog.”
Doreen sniffed. “All I’m sayin’ is, it’s better if you just go in, let ’em do their worst, prove you’re clean, and then you can leave.”
Never had Julia thought her life would be personally affected by the Contagious Diseases Acts. “Has this happened to you before?”
“Twice.” She grimaced. “It ain’t pleasant. But there are worse things.”
“But you’re not a prostitute!”
“No. But I used to be a maid to one of the higher-priced ones. Sometimes that got me rounded up by mistake.”
Faint light from the streetlamps came through two small, barred windows. Julia could see Edith’s brow furrowed in concentration. Was she worried they’d be subjected to the exam? “Don’t worry,” Julia said. “Once we get there, we’ll explain who we are. When they hear you’re the daughter of an earl, they’ll be horrified at what they’ve done and let us go immediately.”
“I’m not going to tell them.”
“What?”
“I’m not going to let my family connections decide my fate. I will stand or fall on my own merits, not because of my birth.”
Doreen stared at her. “You’re the daughter of an earl?” She looked for all the world as though she wanted to curtsy right there in the cramped wagon.
“You will not treat me any differently,” Edith snapped. She probably didn’t realize how aristocratic she sounded; a sign that her breeding could not be set aside entirely. “It’s not my lineage that makes me good or bad. It’s what I do with my own life and abilities.”
“I used to. But now I rent simple lodgings near the medical school. The way you are acting right now is exactly the reason I didn’t tell you before.”
The wagon came to a halt, bouncing a little as the policemen jumped off. This was followed by the sound of footsteps coming around the back of the van and the bolt being slid out of its lock.
They were led to a cell—a dank, dark room about twenty feet square. Julia instinctively pulled out a handkerchief, holding it to her nose until she could acclimatize to the smell of unwashed bodies and the foul odor emanating from the bucket in the corner.
The cell already had two occupants. One of them—a tall, lean woman with frizzled gray hair—gave them a malevolent, confrontational stare, as though she were trying to assert her supremacy. The other—a smaller, younger woman—sat in the corner, her shoulders slumped. She looked up when they came in, her eyes meeting Julia’s with a mildly curious expression before dropping down to stare once more at her worn boots.
Two policemen came in behind them, carrying Eliza. Without a trace of ceremony or care, they deposited her on a bench against the wall.
“Wait—don’t we get a chance to speak to the stationmaster?” Julia asked, as the policemen made to leave.
One of them glared at her as though she’d asked a rude question. “You will all get your turn.” Pointing to Myrtle, he said, “You first.”
Myrtle lifted her chin in a show of dignity that was not entirely successful and went out with him.
“What’re you in for?” said the gray-haired woman, addressing Julia and the others after the cell door had slammed shut. Her voice was raspy, as though worn out from overuse.
“For delivering a baby,” Edith answered crisply.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but something in Edith’s defiant manner kept her from saying more.
“What about you?” Doreen challenged.
“For minding our own business. Unfortunately, we just happened to be standing in the street while we was doing it.” She must have decided Edith’s answer was an equivocation and answered in kind.
The Heart's Appeal Page 17