Daughters of Liverpool

by Kate Eastham

  ‘Thank you, Sister,’ breathed Alice.

  ‘I am a superintendent!’ snapped the woman. ‘And I will be watching you …’ She shifted her gaze briefly to Mr Knox again, before stalking down the ward with her lamp.

  Alice sat back down on the stool, her shoulders slumped.

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph,’ said Mr Knox. ‘She’s more scary than any of the captains I’ve ever worked with, and I’ve worked with some devils, I can tell you.’

  ‘She is … terrifying,’ said Alice, her voice sounding small. ‘Thank you for speaking up for me, and you don’t even know me or what sort of nurse I am.’

  ‘That might be so, but I can spot unfair behaviour from a mile away. And I’m not havin’ it, not on my ward.’

  Alice had been right, the man was someone with a light heart. He was grinning at her now, making her feel so much better, even a little giddy.

  ‘You pay that old biddy no mind,’ he continued. ‘If she comes after you again, you come straight to Tommy Knox, I’ll sort her out.’ Then he started laughing and coughing and then he was drawing up his knees in pain. ‘Just as soon as I get this blasted bandage off and get back on my feet, that is,’ he croaked.

  Alice was straight up off the stool. ‘Sister left some brandy by your bed. Here, have a swig of this,’ she said, popping the cork out of the flask.

  ‘Cheers,’ said Tommy, grabbing the flask and taking a hefty swig. But this made him cough even more, and he was starting to cry out with pain.

  ‘I’ll find Sister straight away and get you some laudanum,’ she said, all thought of whether the superintendent was still on the ward gone from her mind in that moment.

  ‘Thanks … Nurse … best nurse on the ward,’ he croaked, rolling on to his side, trying to get some ease.

  Alice was now fully awake, sharp, and determined to get the medicine that her patient needed. Superintendent or no superintendent, she would be doing her duty for her patients.

  10

  ‘Streets are miserable places to walk in during a great part of the year. Nurses want and unconsciously crave for fresh air …’

  Florence Nightingale

  Alice burst out on to the street the next morning, glad to be leaving the hospital and eager to be home with Victoria. She needed to leave behind all the difficulties that she’d encountered with the night superintendent and some of the sorrow that she was feeling for her new patient, Tommy Knox. Nevertheless, she knew that she’d be taking some thoughts of Tommy home with her; she was thinking of him already.

  Even though Alice was completely wrung out and dizzy with exhaustion, she made herself put one foot in front of the other and make good speed towards Lime Street. She managed to smile, as always, at each and every individual who called out, ‘Good morning, Sister.’ She could never risk betraying any trace of not being a bona fide district nurse: hers and Victoria’s safety relied upon it.

  It seemed to take for ever to reach Lime Street, and by the time that she did, she was too tired to pay much attention to the world around her. Therefore she didn’t see the small group of cornermen gathered near the railway station until it was too late. Alice had no choice but to walk through them, but luckily for her, they were already involved with a well-dressed man who’d just descended from the train. Not for the first time, Alice wondered why the police didn’t put their energies into ensuring public safety rather than driving working women like Lizzie off the street. As she was just about through the cornermen, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, one make a move in her direction. Immediately, her heart was racing. She needed to get back to her baby, not to be held up like this.

  But all he did was smile, then doff his cap. ‘Morning, Sister,’ he said, grinning. Alice could have punched him for giving her such a scare, but she returned the smile, and went on her way as quickly as she could.

  Reaching the alley at last, she began to slow her pace. As soon as she turned in, however, Hugo streaked past, his head down and his ears back. Alice had never seen him move so fast. Looking down the alley, she saw the reason straight away: there were police in uniform and one in plain clothes lining the alley, at least three of them.

  Alice’s heart missed a beat. Immediately she was back, closed in that carriage, struggling against them. She took a deep breath, needing to steady herself. Remember, you are a district nurse, you have just walked through the cornermen with no trouble. You can do this, you are on your way to treat a patient at that address, she repeated in her head. Pulling the nurse’s cape more tightly around her and trying to look confident, she straightened her back and walked down the alley.

  She held her breath as she walked by, so close to them that she could hear the murmur of their conversation. One of the men who had bundled her into the carriage was there, standing with the rest. She made sure to turn her head away just a fraction as she passed him.

  ‘Morning, Sister,’ said the last in line, stepping in front of her. ‘Sorry to enquire, but may I ask your business? It’s just that we believe there to be a woman of ill repute hiding in one of these properties. I think a respectable woman like you would be best moving on to another location.’

  Alice cleared her throat. ‘Thank you, Constable,’ she said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘But I have no concerns whatsoever about visiting the properties in and adjacent to this alley. I have a very urgent case to attend, so can you please let me by.’

  ‘Well now, Sister—’

  ‘I have a letter here from Miss Mary Merryweather, superintendent at the Liverpool Royal Infirmary, giving me full permission to visit these properties,’ said Alice, fishing in her pocket. ‘I don’t think Miss Merryweather will be very pleased when she hears that one of her district nurses has been impeded by the police …’

  ‘No, of course not, no, I mean, yes, you go and see to your patient, Sister.’

  Alice swept by, before she could be drawn into any further conversation and risk being recognized by the man in plain clothes. As she stood on the step, knocking on the door as if she was indeed a visitor to the house, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her knees were weak, and when the door was opened by Marie, she almost fell in.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s Lizzie again,’ Marie told her. ‘She was out on Lime Street, talking to some of the cornermen, having a laugh, just being herself, you know what she’s like. And she saw them coming for her, so she ran straight back here, as fast as she could. They didn’t know which house; they’ve been knocking on doors saying they want to come in and search. But Stella is having none of it – she told them they couldn’t come in without the proper papers. Anyway, Lizzie is long gone. She went straight out through the back gate and disappeared into the city, they’ll never find her. But Stella’s fighting mad and she says if they knock again, she’s still not letting them in.’

  ‘Is Victoria all right?’

  ‘Slept through it all, and, as I say, nobody’s coming in here.’

  Going through into the kitchen, Alice went straight to the crib. In her exhausted state she had to fight back the tears when she saw her daughter’s pale, sleeping face and the fingers of her tiny hand splayed out across the crib blanket. Victoria, her beautiful baby girl, sleeping through everything, yet so vulnerable, lying there in her crib. What if the police had broken through the door? What then?

  She leant down to give her baby a gentle kiss on the cheek, feeling her warmth beneath her lips and smelling that special baby smell. Straightening up, she had to give herself a shake, to try and waken up. She needed to make sense of their situation, work out what she should do.

  ‘Get your hat and cape off, Alice,’ said Marie, already pouring a cup of tea. ‘Stell will be down in a minute, you can talk to her about things.’

  Alice did as she was told and then gratefully slid into a chair with a cup of Marie’s best brewed tea in front of her. She took a sip and rested back, closing her eyes until she heard the sound of Stella coming into t
he kitchen.

  ‘They’re still picking women up from the streets,’ Stella said. ‘We know that, and since the Italian woman’s place was closed down I’ve known we’re at risk of that as well, but I don’t think they’re coming for us just yet.’ She pulled out a chair and sat opposite with her thick, curly hair pulled back extra tight, and her sleeves rolled up. ‘There haven’t been any other places raided since the Italian woman’s and we still have our clients from the police, and even that doctor from the hospital. I think we’re safe for the time being.’

  Alice gave a sigh of relief. She never thought she’d be grateful for Mr Fawcett being a visitor to the brothel, but now she was. She never wanted to see him here or at the hospital ever again, but she was grateful, at least, that his patronage meant that Stella had some influence out there in the city.

  ‘The other thing is, we’ve got Ada and Miss Merryweather on our side,’ Stella continued. ‘And yesterday,’ her face brightened, ‘I was able to meet with Josephine Butler at last. And what a fine lady she is, too. We were invited into her drawing room to take tea and we had a very good conversation indeed. She goes around the country, giving lectures and speaking on behalf of us working women. In one city, she had to speak to a room full of men – no women or boys allowed. She said it felt strange, and her voice was quiet at first. But, as she stood in front of them, she thought, why not, I can say my piece as well as any man, and these women need my help.’

  ‘What can she do, though, to stop this happening and make us safe?’ Alice asked.

  ‘She has influence because of her social standing,’ Stella said, ‘more influence than any of us working women, and they’re organizing protest marches and all sorts. She thinks it could take years but she’s determined to see it through, to stop women being picked up off the street and forced to be examined … It makes my blood boil, just thinking about it, especially after you were taken, Alice.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ said Alice, reaching out a hand to Stella. ‘I’m not letting it get me down. In fact, it set me on a new path. Maybe I wouldn’t have gone back to nursing without that – maybe I would have left it too long. And after last night – well, I won’t go into the detail, but I had a tough time on the ward with a senior member of night staff. But it made me realize just how much it all means to me: helping the patients, doing the work and being able to earn my own money …’

  ‘I must admit,’ said Stella, ‘when you came to see me, that first night with Maud, remember, when you were pregnant and not knowing what to do, I wasn’t sure how you would cope with anything. You looked weary and you couldn’t stop crying, and then, even when you came back here just before the baby was born, you were like a lost soul …’

  Alice was nodding. She couldn’t fully remember that time, even though it was only last year, but she did recognize herself back then in what Stella was saying.

  ‘But now look at you,’ said Stella, beaming at Alice and reaching a hand out to her across the table. ‘You have blossomed, Alice, blossomed into a determined, strong woman. Having a baby can do that, for some. For others, it can make them a trembling heap. But you are remarkable, Alice.’

  ‘I’m not sure that remarkable is the right word. Last night on the ward I was definitely a trembling heap, and right now, I am absolutely exhausted.’

  ‘Yes, but the difference is, you can pick yourself up when you need to. Even I can be a trembling heap sometimes, I just let myself get on with it. I know I’ll soon be right again. And I am. What I’m trying to say to you, Alice, is this: you have the world at your feet now, you can do this. And when you have your certificate you can get a place of your own, and pay for someone to look after the baby …’

  Alice was nodding now, with tears welling up in her eyes. ‘This is all thanks to you and Marie, for giving me the chance. If it hadn’t been for you … and now look at me, I’m a trembling heap again.’

  Marie put an arm around Alice’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze. ‘You get yourself to bed, Alice, you’re just exhausted. I can look after the baby; you need to rest.’

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ said Alice. ‘And it’s best if I stay awake now and sleep tonight. I’m back on the day shift again tomorrow.’

  By the time Victoria was waking for her next feed, the women had been chatting and laughing so much that they’d almost forgotten the police were in the alley.

  ‘I’ll go and have a look,’ said Stella. ‘Tell ’em to go and sling their hook if they’re still there.’ But when she came back, she was smiling. ‘They’re gone.’

  ‘Let me help you with that,’ said Alice later that day, seeing Marie busy with the posser over a steaming tub of laundry.

  ‘You go and have a sit down,’ said Marie. ‘You must be tired by now. I can do this and I’ll see to the baby when she wakes up again.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ insisted Alice, taking the posser out of Marie’s hands.

  ‘All right then, you win,’ smiled Marie, stretching her stiff back as she stepped away from the tub. ‘This laundry work doesn’t get any easier for a woman my age.’

  Alice was soon done with the possing and then she was pegging out the washing in the back yard. It was only when she sat down on the bench and rested her head against the brick wall of the house that she began to feel the creep of exhaustion again. She had thought to take some time to read her book – the adventures of Cathy and Heathcliff were waiting – but she was too tired for that. So she rested back and let her mind drift, as she listened to the slow flap of the wet sheets on the line.

  Then she heard something else, a scuffling noise, and when she looked up, she saw one of the best pillowcases slowly disappearing from the washing line.

  Alice was on her feet straight away, grabbing the pillowcase. Then she saw a girl with tousled hair at the other side of it, pulling with all her might.

  ‘Oi,’ shouted Alice. ‘What d’ye think you’re doing?’

  The girl held on tight, so Alice let go, and the girl fell flat on her back on to the stone flags, the breath knocked out of her.

  Looking down at the girl, Alice was immediately filled with concern. She was so thin, and covered in grime, her pale red hair dirty and matted in clumps; and now she was crying, the tears making clean white lines down her grubby face.

  ‘Come on,’ said Alice, her voice gentle now. ‘Let’s get you on your feet and then I’m going to find you something to eat.’

  She hauled the girl up and helped her over to the bench. ‘You’re not in any trouble,’ she said, ‘and I want you to sit here till I get back with some food and a cup of tea.’

  The girl nodded, still sniffling, and staring at Alice with big green eyes.

  Pleased to see the girl still on the bench when she returned with the food, Alice felt an ache in her chest when she saw the look of hunger on her face. The girl was starving – on the streets of Liverpool, in this day and age.

  ‘Why did you need our pillowcase?’ Alice asked as the girl shoved bread and jam and cake into her mouth all at the same time.

  ‘I needed to take it to the pots and rags stall and get a few pennies for some bread,’ she said, as she chewed and swallowed. Alice had never seen anyone eat like that before; she had never seen anyone so hungry. ‘My mam, she sends me out when we’ve no food. She gets sick sometimes and she can’t work and she needs me to look after her.’

  Alice felt deep sadness, like a pain in her chest. She couldn’t imagine any woman not having enough money to feed her children. Imagine if she couldn’t feed Victoria, if she had to send her out on the streets in years to come, just to get some bread for the table. It made her want to weep with sorrow for this girl and all the poor children on the streets of Liverpool. She knew that there were some charities that gave out food and suchlike, but there had to be a better way than this.

  ‘You’re doing a good job looking after your mam,’ she said, gently reaching out a hand to smooth some of the tangles of dirty hair away from the girl’s face. She would have l
oved to get her over the dolly tub full of warm water and wash that hair with plenty of soap and some disinfectant. She could see how beautiful it was underneath the muck. It would be wonderful to see her crown of curly red hair, and to untangle it. It would be glorious. And with her green eyes, the girl was set to be a real beauty.

  ‘What’s your name?’ asked Alice.

  ‘I’m Sue Cassidy,’ she said, with a hint of pride in her voice. ‘And I’m ten years old.’

  ‘Well, Sue Cassidy,’ said Alice, ‘I tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to give you some money for food, and I want you to go straight back home with it. And if your mam has to send you out again, you come here to me first. I’m Alice, ask for me, or ask for Marie, she’s my friend. I’ll tell her about you. I’ll make sure there’s some money here for you if you need it.’

  The girl stared at her. It seemed like she’d forgotten how to smile, but Alice saw that her eyes had started to shine, just a little.

  As Alice went in to find the box where she’d put her first wages, she felt glad that she now had the means to help. If Sue Cassidy had turned up some weeks earlier she would have been really struggling. And though she only had just enough, after paying Marie, Alice felt this was a very good way of spending her first few shillings.

  Seeing the girl’s face as she counted out the coins into her hand, Alice knew that she was doing exactly the right thing. How could any woman, if she is a mother, and she has the means, turn her back on a child who needs help?

  ‘Thanks, missus,’ said Sue, putting the coins into her pocket straight away, and then bringing something back out. ‘I want you to have this,’ she said, ‘it’s my special find.’

  ‘Very lovely,’ said Alice, seeing a shiny piece of metal that had been cut into a circle, probably some attempt to make a counterfeit coin.