by Kate Eastham
‘Yes, miss,’ said the man, grinning.
When Stanley was brought to the ward, he pulled Michael across the floor, wagging his tail and panting with joy, desperate to be reunited with his master. The whole ward cheered. Michael couldn’t hold the dog back; all he could do was gasp, ‘He’s very strong, especially after all the meat and bones he’s been havin’. He’s been eating us out of house and home, he ’as.’
Once the dog reached Mr Swain’s bed, he was beside himself, licking his master’s face and barking, and the veteran was in tears, stroking him and kissing him, and trying to get him to settle. It really was a wonderful sight, to see the two of them reunited.
Once they were ready to move, Alice escorted them through the hospital to the waiting carriage. Sister Law had thought it too far for Mr Swain to walk to the door, so Michael and Stephen brought the stretcher and the whole party proceeded through the hospital with the dog trotting at the side.
Alice helped Mr Swain off the stretcher and the orderlies made sure that he was carefully loaded into the carriage with his dog. Whilst they were giving the driver strict instructions to pull up directly outside his lodgings, Alice leant into the carriage to say a final goodbye.
‘I just want to say thank you again, Nurse Sampson,’ he said, ‘especially to you, for all the work with the dressings and for really looking after me. I know you’ve been on the ward previously, and you’ve seen me in some states. I must have been such hard work then. But you never let that stand in the way of giving me a fair chance this time around.’
‘We never know what we’re going to face in life, do we, Mr Swain?’ said Alice, giving his hand a squeeze. ‘You just try to keep as well as you can this time. And let’s hope that we don’t see you back on the ward again, hey?’
‘I’ll try my best,’ he said, as Michael called that they were ready to move.
Alice waited for the carriage to set off before turning to make her way back into the hospital. Just in that moment she caught a glimpse of a man in a brown jacket stepping into the shadow of a building. She felt a shock go through her; from where she was standing, he looked like Jamie. She held her breath, watching, waiting for him to step out. But there was nothing but the shadow.
As she walked towards the hospital entrance, Alice felt as if someone was breathing down her neck. She had to make an effort to shrug it off. And then she saw an ancient woman, wrapped in a thick shawl, walking painfully slowly, aided by a girl with blond hair falling straight down her back. For a moment she couldn’t place them and then she realized who they were. It was the old lady, Mrs Marchbank, who’d fallen over outside St George’s Hall, on the day of Maud’s wedding.
I’ll walk quietly by, she thought, not wanting to distract the woman and risk her falling again.
But Alice had been seen. Mrs Marchbank and her granddaughter called to her instantly.
‘So you have become a nurse after all,’ declared Mrs Marchbank, looking Alice up and down and smiling.
‘I have,’ said Alice, returning the smile. ‘And how are you? How’s the rheumatics?’
‘A bit better,’ she said. ‘We’ve just been in to the dispensary, to get some more salts. But I’m fair riddled with it. It’s just how it is. I’m surviving, that’s the main thing.’
‘That’s good,’ said Alice. ‘It’s so nice to see you again. I hope you didn’t have any ill effects from that fall.’
‘Nah,’ the old lady said. ‘We Marchbanks are made of strong stuff.’
Alice knew that she couldn’t have walked by and ignored them once she’d been recognized, but she couldn’t spend too much time with them outside the hospital. She needed to get back to the ward, so she was just about to say her goodbyes and turn away when Mrs Marchbank asked after Victoria. ‘And how’s that bonny baby girl of yours? She must be growing …’
‘She is growing and she’s keeping very well,’ said Alice, glancing around, to make sure that they weren’t in earshot of any hospital staff. Clearly Mrs Marchbank didn’t realize that it wasn’t usual for a trained nurse to have a child.
‘Well, you give her a kiss from me, will you? What’s her name again?’
‘Victoria,’ said Alice, as quietly as she could, drawing in a sharp breath when she saw the shape of a man hovering in the shadow of the building again.
‘What’s that?’ said Mrs Marchbank, putting a hand to her ear.
‘The baby’s called Victoria,’ repeated her granddaughter loudly.
‘It’s lovely to see you again, Mrs Marchbank,’ said Alice, her heart pounding in her chest, ‘but I need to get back to the ward now …’
‘Of course you do, my dear,’ said the old lady, ‘and you keep up with the good work.’
‘I will,’ called Alice, already running towards the door. Surely if it had been Jamie he would have stepped out, he would be following her right now, but when she glanced back one more time, there was no one.
Once in through the door, she slowed her pace and started to take deep breaths to steady herself. She was almost there now, she nearly had her certificate, she couldn’t risk Jamie or anyone other than the small group of senior staff who understood her situation finding out about the baby, not at this late stage.
She walked down the corridor, her heart still pounding in her chest. And as she came back down the ward, she saw Millicent Langtry glance up, then she instantly averted her eyes.
Alice knew that Millicent had been avoiding her on the ward and she suspected it was because she had been there with Nancy when she’d confronted her about Morgan. And she’d had no wish to engage with her either. But looking at her now, seeing the weariness of her, Alice’s heart went out to Nurse Langtry. She, of all people, should know what it was like to be controlled by Nancy. After all, it had happened to her. If Maud had been around, she would certainly have advised Alice to make her peace with Millicent.
Seeing Millicent making her way into the sluice, Alice followed. She found her standing with her back turned and her head bowed.
‘There’s no need to worry, Millicent,’ said Alice quietly, ‘I haven’t come in here to have a go at you. I just want to make peace, that’s all.’
She saw Millicent’s shoulders rise and fall as she gave a sigh. And then she could hear her starting to sniffle.
She took a step towards her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Look here, Millicent,’ she said gently, ‘I know what Nancy’s like, I know what she does to people. You just need to make a break with her, that’s all.’
Millicent turned to face her and when she looked up, her eyes were brimming with tears.
‘I don’t need to make a break,’ she said. ‘I haven’t heard from her since that day we saw you, and she told you about that thing.’
‘Well, that’s good then,’ said Alice, rooting in her pocket for a clean handkerchief. ‘Now dry your eyes and don’t think any more about it. We need to work together on the ward – we have the patients to consider first and foremost, don’t we?’
Millicent nodded and then wiped her nose.
‘And if Nancy comes back, don’t get involved with her again is my advice. She’s only interested in herself, what Nancy wants. She will bleed you dry, if you let her.’
Millicent was still nodding.
‘I need you to know that I hold nothing against you, Millicent. So stop worrying and let’s get on with the work.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, grabbing hold of Alice and squeezing her tight. Alice didn’t think that slow, weary Millicent had that much strength in her body. And what was that smell? It was some mixture of lavender and camphor. Alice had to break free in the end, and, when she did so, she patted Millicent on the arm. ‘Don’t you worry. We’re friends now, and if Nancy bothers you again, you come straight to me.’
‘I will,’ said Millicent, starting to smile.
Alice came out of the sluice a little out of breath, and walked straight into the Reverend Seed.
‘Oops,’ he said. ‘We seem
to be making a habit out of this, don’t we, Nurse Sampson?’ Then his cheeks flushed red and he was straightening his dog collar and walking purposefully down the ward. Alice stared after him, her brow furrowed, then she realized that he must have been referring to her first night shift when she walked into him by a patient’s bed. But that was ages ago, she thought. I hope there isn’t anything in what Eddy was saying about him liking me. I’m done with men for good.
There was absolutely nothing more that Alice wanted that afternoon than to get back to Stella’s place and spend time with her baby. That was the best thing in the world, now, to Alice. But she was cautious walking home and she didn’t take any chances, going out through the back of the Nurses’ Home, checking around her, looking for a glimpse of a brown jacket. She felt even more alert to danger because Eddy had needed to go home straight from work. Her father was a carter on the docks and one of his horses had stepped on his foot, making a bit of a mess of it. Eddy had given her the full detail that morning and it didn’t sound like any bones were broken but Eddy needed to keep an eye on the wound.
When she arrived at the alley, Alice gave one final glance either side before proceeding. And as she rounded the corner, she saw Marie coming out of the door with Victoria in her arms.
‘There she is,’ cried Alice. ‘There’s my girl!’ And she almost ran towards them, delighted by the baby’s screech of laughter and the way she reached out to be held. All fears were dispelled in that moment. There was no creeping around and glancing behind her now.
‘I’m glad you’re back in good time,’ said Marie. ‘I was going to take her with me to the corner shop, but now I can carry on and see my old friend in the next street – she’s bad with her legs …’
‘Yes, you go, and is there anything I can be doing after I get this one settled?’
‘Well, there is some laundry, but we’ll do that together when I get back. You get some rest, Alice, spend some time with your daughter.’
It was quiet in the kitchen and unusual for Alice to have the place to herself at this time of day. Often during the evening she had the space, but then the rest of the house was usually alive with noise and raucous laughter. Often men would bump into the wall of the corridor or the kitchen door as they made their way towards the stairs. It had startled Alice in the first few weeks but now she’d got used to the bumps and the bangs and the singing and the laughing.
Being alone like this gave her some feeling for what it might be like living in her own place. She wasn’t sure if she altogether liked the idea, it felt odd, but she knew that it would be nice to have some peace and quiet.
Holding Victoria on one hip, she removed her cape and hat, then sat with her daughter by the fire, and she was content, feeling the warmth of the baby’s small body and the rhythm of her breathing. She ran a hand over her head, feeling her silky hair, snuggling her close to her cheek and breathing her in. Stretching out in the chair, Alice’s foot caught the cat as he slept in his usual place by the fire. He lifted his head for a second and Alice reached down to give him a stroke. He stretched out further with one front paw and then he was back to sleep.
‘Lazy, good-for-nothing cat,’ murmured Alice.
Without knowing it, she was rocking gently backwards and forwards in the chair and she could feel the baby settling against her as the heaviness of sleep crept through her small body. Alice felt it too and wondered if she should just sit and doze with her in the chair. But no, Victoria was getting too big for that now, and they were too close to the fire. She roused herself and carried the baby across to settle her in her crib.
Alice filled the kettle and put it on the hob. As soon as steam began to come from the spout, the door opened and Stella came through, closely followed by Lizzie, and it became one of those half-hours that regularly happened in a house full of women, where it was good to sip tea and talk. Put the world to rights.
‘Did we tell you, Alice, about going to the Midnight Supper?’
‘No, what’s that?’
‘Well, these events are laid on by the church and the constabulary, a way of making contact with us “fallen women” and trying to persuade us to give up our wicked ways and return to the bosom of our families. Mrs Butler would, ideally, like all of us working women to find redemption. Change our line of work. She’s often mentioned these suppers and she’s been trying to persuade us to go along for some time. So, out of respect for her, we did just that.
‘Well, many of the women turned up in their best hats and their finery; they were in silks and crinolines. The place was packed. And they’d laid on a lovely spread for us: bread and butter, meat pies, fine cakes, pots of tea. All served up by lady volunteers. Ooh, and I tell you who we saw there – that housekeeper of Maud’s, the one who was at the wedding, she was giving out plates and napkins.’
‘You mean Miss Fairchild?’ said Alice.
‘Yes, that’s the one,’ said Stella, starting to laugh. ‘I think she was a bit surprised to see me there; I don’t think she knew about my line of work … But she said hello, and it was all very nice. She seemed to come over a bit faint later on, though, and she left early. But bear in mind the party only started about eleven p.m., so it was two o’clock in the morning before we were finished. Well, we had a good natter and plenty of laughs, and one or two had brought a flask of strong liquor to spice up the cups of tea. So the night was going really well. But then the Reverend got up to speak, and the lady volunteers were singing hymns, and what they wanted was for as many women as they could persuade to go along to the Home for Fallen Women.
‘These suppers have been going on for years and most of us know the score, so as soon as the hymns started we all got up and left. One of the lady volunteers followed us out on to the street with her tea cloth, to make absolutely sure that we didn’t want to change our minds—’
‘So we lifted our skirts and scarpered as quick as we could,’ added Lizzie, jumping up from the table and running around the kitchen with her skirt above her knees.
Alice laughed out loud and soon she was holding her ribs with tears running down her cheeks. As she was washing up the tea things after the others had gone, she heard a light tap on the kitchen door. ‘Come in,’ she called.
‘Hello,’ said Ada, walking into the room, smiling.
‘Miss Houston,’ said Alice tentatively, wondering what could possibly have brought her all the way out here on a Thursday afternoon.
‘I came along to the ward to see you, Alice. But I didn’t realize it was your afternoon off.’
‘Right,’ said Alice, still wary for some reason, even though Ada was smiling.
‘I’ve brought something for you. I probably should have mentioned it to you, but as you know, we said that you only needed to do one more placement …’ She fished around in her bag and pulled out a piece of paper.
Alice still didn’t cotton on until she read it, and then she doubled over and had to hold on to the kitchen table for support. It was a certificate. A certificate saying that she had now completed her course of training. She was a qualified nurse.
Alice couldn’t speak. All she could do was read it over and over again, glancing up every now and then to Miss Houston who stood there still smiling.
As Alice held on to the piece of paper, everything that had happened to her since she’d arrived in Liverpool to start her training came flooding back to her. All the things that she’d got through. But now she was a trained nurse. And as she held that piece of paper, her hand began to tremble, and then she was laughing, and then laughing and crying, all at the same time.
‘Well done, Alice,’ said Miss Houston. ‘You have worked hard and you have been through a great deal. You deserve it.’
‘Does Sister Law know?’ gasped Alice, when she could finally speak.
‘Yes, of course. She was the first to propose that we consider your training complete. She put your case very strongly, saying that she’d seen a huge improvement in your performance since your “return to the
fold”. She told me that you were competent with dressings, bed-making, poultices, leeches, temperatures and enemas, and that you had a natural aptitude and willingness to tackle anything. She praised your recent work with Mr Swain’s dressings in particular and singled out your devoted work with an incurable cancer patient, Mr Knox. Exemplary, was the word she used. Exemplary. She said that she could see you in charge of a ward in no time at all. She had no doubt at all that you have not only reached but excelled the required standard.’
‘Sister Law,’ croaked Alice. ‘She said that?’
‘Yes, she did, and not only that, she told me that Sister Tweedy on nights had told her that you were the best probationer that she had ever worked with.’
‘That’s probably because I got her a pillow to kneel on, whilst she said her prayers,’ Alice laughed.
‘Don’t tell me she still kneels on the floor! I’ve told her so many times not to do that, her legs are so bad these days. But that’s Sister Tweedy for you … Anyway, Alice, you ought to be very proud of what you’ve achieved. Especially with everything else that’s been going on. You’ve simply soldiered on, haven’t you?’
‘I suppose so, but, then again, what choice did I have, apart from go home with a baby born out of wedlock and stay in the village, shunned by my family, for the rest of my life?’
‘You’ve kept your nerve, Alice, and that takes a lot of doing.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t have if it hadn’t been for you and Maud and Eddy and Stella and Marie. Even Miss Merryweather and Sister Law, you’ve all played your part. Without you women, doing what you do, I’d have gone under. And if that had happened, I don’t know where Victoria and I would have ended up.’
‘Well, every credit to you, Alice. This is cause for real celebration. We wanted to try and do something special at the hospital; the Reverend Seed was very keen to do one of his teas. But in the end, because of your circumstances, we thought it best not to draw any undue attention.’
‘That’s true … this is the best way,’ said Alice, reading again the precious piece of paper that she held in her hand. ‘I’ll wait till they all come in this evening, and Eddy is here, and then I’ll make an announcement. I am so happy with this, Ada. So happy.’