A Nurse's Courage

by Maggie Holt

  ‘Chris’muss was when me muvver reckoned it was ’er turn to get as drunk as the ol’ man. Teddy an’ me was that famished – an’ I got nabbed for pinchin’ from some toff’s kitchen up Belgravy way, an’ we was sent to the Waifs an’ Strays ’ome at Dulwich. ‘E’s still there, young Teddy, cheeky little blighter – Gawd knows what I’m goin’ to do wiv ’im when ’e comes aht!’

  Yes, Alex could be himself with his darling, common little Maudie. He could let himself go.

  Their relationship had begun light-heartedly enough. Mrs Redfern had taken on the cheeky cockney housemaid who had no references other than that her last job had been as a kitchen assistant in a women’s shelter run by the Salvation Army, and that she had spent several years of her childhood in the Dulwich home. Girls were leaving domestic service in droves to work in the munitions factories now springing up everywhere to keep the army and navy supplied with ammunition, and one could not afford to look too closely at the backgrounds of employees these days. However, the new maid quickly set about sweeping, dusting, polishing and scrubbing, carrying hot-water jugs up and down stairs, and emptying chamber-pots with unfailing good humour. Then one day Mrs Redfern had entered Alex’s room and found him lying on the bed with the maidservant: she was minus her cap and apron, her buttons were undone, her shoes were off and her black skirt was up above her knees. She had stared back at Mrs Redfern’s shocked face, and made a sound halfway between a gasp of horror and a stifled burst of laughter. It had meant instant dismissal for Ling, and an embarrassing interview between Alex and his father.

  ‘It was my fault entirely, Pa. I’d been talking to her, teasing her while she put out the clean linen, and one thing led to another. She tried to ignore my nonsense, but then I started tickling her, so of course she had to laugh, couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t behave improperly in any way, it was just a bit of foolery on my part and I deeply regret it.’

  It was no good. Maud had to pack her small case and leave Elmgrove forthwith. Alex had managed to slip her a note asking her to meet him at a coffee house on Edgware Road, where he had given her money to find lodgings and promised to keep in touch with her, and not only from a sense of obligation: it was the beginning of a real commitment.

  But she had surprised him by her independence and initiative: she quickly set out to find a foothold in the world of entertainment which had always fascinated her. From the chorus line in whatever ramshackle vaudeville show would take her on, she progressed to solo spots where her personality and special brand of cockney humour appealed to wider audiences in the better-known music halls and variety theatres. And now she was a star in a Christmas pantomime – and Alex Redfern yearned for the sight and the touch of her, far more than for any of the girls his parents would have welcomed as a daughter-in-law.

  Christmas dinner over, Mr Redfern brought out the port and cigars, inviting James and Alex to share an hour of men’s talk about the progress of the war while the women sat round the fire in the drawing-room, cooing over little Jamie. And somewhere between dining- and drawing-room Alex made his escape with a quick apology to his father, saying he had a hospital visit to make to a wounded friend of a friend and wasn’t sure how long it would take. By the time Mrs Redfern gave a wail of dismay he was out of Hamilton Terrace and literally running down the Edgware Road, heading for Lambeth.

  Christmas Day was going fairly well. On the maternity ward Mr Poole made an informal afternoon visit accompanied by his wife, two rather gawky daughters and another lady who seemed very interested in everything she saw. The girls self-consciously followed their father round the ward as he nodded to the mothers and asked them how they did, ignoring the furious looks from Mrs Higgs.

  ‘Bad enough havin’ all the visitors bargin’ in without ’im bringin’ ’is women as well,’ she grumbled, nettled at the sight of him talking to that probationer Court and Mrs Hayes.

  ‘My wife says you’ve improved me, Court! She says I’m in a better temper when I get back from Booth Street these days,’ he told Mabel. ‘And this lady is Mrs Spearmann who wanted to come and see the mothers and babies, so perhaps you could show her the nursery and our little broom cupboard.’ This was his name for the operating theatre. ‘Mrs Spearmann is one of my private patients who helped to equip it,’ he added with a meaning look, amused that the lady was clearly shocked at everything she saw.

  ‘Good heavens, what poor, unfortunate women you have here, Mr Poole!’ she said. ‘So sickly looking – and such dreadfully bad teeth! When I think of my own dear children, and the comforts I take for granted, I feel quite ashamed. What will happen to the poor babies of these – er – patients?’

  ‘Half of them will probably die in their first year, ma’am, and half of the rest will end up in somewhere like the Midway Babies’ Home, I dare say. They’ll get the bare necessities there, but precious little care and attention.’

  ‘Merciful heaven, how dreadful to think of it, in this day and age!’ exclaimed the lady who was about twenty-six or -seven, on the plump side and well-dressed. ‘Would I be able to visit this, er, Midway Home?’

  ‘I don’t see why not, ma’am, it’s run by the same local government board as this Infirmary.’ He turned back to Mabel. ‘You ought to go and see the Midway, too, Court, seeing that you’re so keen on nursing children with disadvantages.’

  Mrs Spearmann heard this, as he had intended her to. ‘Very well,’ she said, ‘I’ll arrange for your Nurse Court to accompany me. Would you like that?’ she asked Mabel who nodded politely.

  ‘Thank yer, Mrs Spearmann.’ She remembered an occasion back in the warmer weather, seeing a dozen or so very young children all dressed alike, being pushed out in a handcart by a couple of youngish women who said they were from the Midway. And where had she heard the name Spearmann mentioned before?

  At this point Matron arrived at maternity on her afternoon Christmas round of the Infirmary. Having spoken to the Poole ladies and Mrs Spearmann, she beckoned discreetly to Mabel.

  ‘I believe you’re wanted on Men’s I, Nurse Court, if you can leave your duties here for half an hour. A young Salvation Army officer has arrived to visit the patients, and he’ll need somebody to introduce him and then show him up to Men’s II in due course.’

  Her eyes twinkled and Mabel could have kissed her. ‘Oh, thank yer, Matron, I’ll get over there straightaway – oh, thank yer!’

  Mrs Higgs glowered afresh at this display of favouritism and muttered that it was a good job that some folks were on hand to look after the patients. Mrs Hayes assured Mabel that she would take over her duties for the next half-hour and Mabel joyfully slipped away, hurrying along the main corridor. Men’s I was filling with visitors and Harry was waiting at the door.

  ‘Mabel, dearest!’

  ‘Ssh, I’m Nurse Court and you’re Captain Drover!’ she warned him, though her radiant smile left him in no doubt of his welcome. ‘Matron’s sent me over to introduce yer, and then show yer up to Men’s II, that’s surgical. Come on, let’s find Sister.’

  The Ward Sister, a down-to-earth Londoner, told Harry that he might go round the ward from bed to bed, exchanging a word with each patient, especially those who had no visitors.

  ‘Have yer got any music with yer?’ she asked.

  ‘Er – no, I’ve just come to speak the Lord’s word,’ he replied, and Mabel secretly wished that he’d brought his trombone.

  ‘All right, Captain, I’m sure some o’ them’ll be glad to see a Salvation Army uniform. Yer could start with that poor man in the last bed on the right. He’s lost his son at the Front.’

  Harry set off on his round. Mabel stayed at the door and watched as he stopped at the bed of a grey-faced man who cared not whether he lived or died.

  Then she heard Nurse Davies call to her softly from the sluice-room, and joined her beside the big enamel sink and row of battered enamelled urinals.

  ‘Talk about a Christmas party on maternity, Ethel!’ she grinned. ‘We’ve got Matron, Mr Poole an’
his wife an’ daughters, an’ a Mrs Spearmann who’s asked me to go an’ visit a babies’ home with her!’

  ‘Spearmann, did yer say? Is she one o’ them dressed-up-to-the-nines women who makes out she wants to help the poor? Me mother’s done some alterations for a woman called –’

  Nurse Davies broke off in mid-sentence as she caught sight of an extremely smart young woman stopping at the entrance to the ward. She was accompanied by a tall young officer.

  ‘Mabel! I fought yer was on maternity – what yer doin’ ’ere, then?’

  Mabel spun round, her eyes wide with surprise. ‘Maudie! What’re you doin’, I could ask! And where did yer get that hat?’

  For Maud looked every inch a star. She wore a red velvet jacket trimmed with fur at the edges, beneath which a boldly printed skirt swirled, daringly short at calf-length, showing her slender ankles and red high-heeled shoes. Her wavy light-brown hair was crowned with a very stylish hat in matching red velvet, its fur-trimmed brim turned straight up at the back and dipping at the front. She was as pretty as a picture, and all eyes turned to look at her.

  ‘Cor, I see the Duchess o’ Lambeff’s arrived, then,’ muttered a woman to her male companion as they passed through into the ward. He did not reply, but his eyes gleamed.

  ‘Alex ’as come over for the af’noon, so I said let’s go up Booth Street an’ pretend to be visitin’, so’s we can see ol’ Mabel an’ Norah!’ Maud explained. ‘C’mon, Alex, say ‘allo to me very best friend.’

  Redfern held out his hand. ‘I’m very pleased to meet you at last, er, Mabel.’

  Mabel looked up into a handsome face that matched his well-bred tones and easy manner; she had no idea that he was making a real effort to conceal his horror at everything he saw, heard and smelt in this ghastly Infirmary.

  ‘H-how d’ye do, er –’ Should she say Mr Redfern or Lieutenant?

  He smiled. ‘Maud says you work with mothers and babies.’ He glanced down the ward at the two rows of mostly old and ill-looking men. ‘This can’t be your patch, then. Oh, I say, the Sally Army’s in! Don’t they ever take time off from saving souls?’

  ‘’Ere, you watch yer step, Alex, that’s Mabel’s Captain ‘Arry, as good a bloke as ever was. Is Norah around anywhere, Mabel?’

  ‘She’s up on Men’s II. Harry’ll be goin’ up there when he’s finished here, an’ –’ Mabel saw that Matron had appeared beside them, and assumed a very respectful expression. ‘Good afternoon, Matron.’

  Matron smiled, with a side glance at Maud. ‘We meet again, Nurse Court. I see that Captain Drover is at his good work. And is this young lady another friend of yours?’

  Mabel was momentarily at a loss, but Maud graciously inclined her head, showing off the hat to perfection.

  ‘I ’ave that honour, Matron,’ she said, sounding the ‘h’ clearly. ‘And this is Flight Lieutenant Redfern o’ the Royal Flying Corps – on leave from France,’ she added proudly. ‘’E’s been flyin’ out over the German lines –’

  Mabel felt that she should make some excuse for Maud’s presence. ‘Er – my friend Miss Maud Ling is the Principal Boy in Cinderella at the Royal Canterbury Theatre, Matron,’ she said quickly, glancing up to see how this information was received. To her amazement, Matron actually laughed.

  ‘Oh, Miss Ling, how wonderful! I’ve always loved pantomimes and now here I am meeting a real, live Principal Boy! I’ll certainly look forward to visiting the show and seeing you perform.’

  ‘Why, fank yer, Matron.’ Miss Ling bowed again, and Sarah Brewer’s thoughts went back to an occasion when she’d seen Marie Lloyd at the peak of her career. This girl’s looks and accent made her think of the great music hall star, and an idea suddenly came to her; she had done what she could to make Christmas more cheerful for the patients and staff of the Infirmary, but here perhaps was something more . . .

  ‘Miss Ling, I suppose I couldn’t ask you – I wonder if you might consider – er, seeing that it’s Christmas –’

  Maud foresaw her request and her hazel eyes danced with merriment. This was a splendid chance to show off in the nicest possible way – and impress Alex!

  ‘Yer mean ye’d like me to do a bit o’ patter an’ give ’em a song from the show?’ she prompted. ‘Somefing to cheer the poor ol’ chaps up, like? ‘Course I will, no trouble at all. C’mon, Alex, ye’ll ’ave to be Prince Charmin’ for this, an’ I’ll be Cinderella!’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Maud, I can’t sing!’ he protested, laughing self-consciously.

  ‘Nobody’s askin’ yer to, all yer got to do is stand there an’ look soppy. I’ll do the singin’.’

  Matron warmed to this irrepressible girl who had appeared from nowhere like an answer to a prayer.

  ‘Thank you so much, Miss Ling. Shall I go in first and introduce you to the staff and visitors? Ah, here comes Captain Drover, I think he’s finished his round. Good timing!’

  Harry came towards them, wearing his serious look.

  ‘I think a few hearts’ve been touched, Mabel,’ he said earnestly, ‘but it’s a sad Christmas for a lot of ’em this year, an’ bein’ in a place like this doesn’t help.’

  ‘Ssh!’ hissed Mabel. ‘This is the Matron, Harry, and here’s Maud, er, Miss Ling and Mr Redfern. They’re goin’ to sing a song for us all – the patients, I mean.’

  Harry coloured and bit his lip, but Matron regarded him kindly. ‘I’m sure you’ve done a great deal of good today, Captain Drover, and now Nurse Court will take you to the other men’s ward. Right, Miss Ling, come along!’

  The mutterings of patients and visitors fell silent as she strode into the middle of the ward and held up a hand for silence.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m happy to bring you a special Christmas treat. Miss Maud Ling who is appearing in Cinderella at the Canterbury Theatre will now entertain us with a song from that delightful show. Miss Ling!’

  There was complete silence. Tired and listless faces turned towards the figure of Matron as she stepped aside, to be replaced by a pretty girl who tripped lightly forward in her eye-catching outfit. Alex Redfern stood back, looking distinctly embarrassed.

  Maudie began by speaking the lines of the first verse, adapting them as she went along.

  ‘I been worried all day long,’ she said in clear, carrying tones. ‘Don’t know if I’m right or wrong!’ She spun round, twirling her skirt. ‘I can’t ’elp just what I say –’ She sighed deeply and then looked towards Alex. ‘Yer love makes me speak this way.’

  She took hold of his hand and drew him towards her as she began to sing.

  ‘You made me love yer – I didn’t want to do it, I didn’t want to do it!

  ‘You made me want yer – an’ all the time yer knew it, I guess yer always knew it!’

  Smiles of recognition began to dawn on faces at hearing the popular song.

  ‘You made me happy sometimes, you made me glad,

  ‘But there were times, dear, you made me feel so bad!’

  Maudie’s voice took on a plaintive note, and Alex looked round the ward, shrugging his shoulders and causing a ripple of laughter to spread.

  ‘You made me sigh for – I didn’t want to tell yer, I didn’t want to tell yer –

  ‘I want some love that’s true – yes, I do, ’deed I do, yer know I do!’

  Maudie was now shaking her forefinger vigorously at Alex. Then she held out her arms to him.

  ‘Give me, give me, what I cry for –

  ‘Yer know yer got the kind o’ kisses that I’d die for!’

  He opened his arms and gathered her close to him, joining in with her on the last line.

  ‘You know you made me love you!’

  There was a round of enthusiastic applause and a few feeble cheers.

  ‘Sing it again, little gal!’ called out one old man and this was followed by requests for ‘More!’.

  Maud needed no second bidding, but this time she made Alex sing it with her. He was much bolder by now and sang the fir
st part of each line, while she sang the ‘didn’t-want-to-do-it’ and ‘didn’t want-to-tell-yer’ bits, pirouetting around him as she belted out, ‘Yes I do, ‘deed I do, yer know I do!’ with much saucy gesturing and winks at the now attentive audience.

  It’s a success, thought Matron Brewer thankfully. And she must do it on all the wards.

  Mabel had obediently taken Harry up to Men’s II, and they had heard the sounds of singing and appreciation drifting up from below.

  ‘Ah, will ye listen to that!’ sighed Nurse McLoughlin. ‘D’ye think Sister up here’ll let Maudie come an’ sing to ’em?’

  ‘Yes, if Matron says so, an’ I’ve got a feelin’ she will,’ Mabel said hopefully. Her half-hour was up and she feared she would have to return to maternity without saying goodbye to Harry who was still doing his round. She had not even wished him a happy Christmas, let alone exchanged a kiss. ‘Oh, Norah, I’d better get back to face the ol’ battleaxe. It’d be just wonderful if Maudie could come over an’ sing to our poor mothers – they deserve a Christmas treat!’

  ‘Ask Matron if she can, then, and maybe on Women’s I and II as well – sure and she can’t leave any of ’em out!’

  And Matron did not intend to leave any of them out.

  A death had just occurred on Women’s II and the Ward Sister said she wanted no singing during a laying-out.

  ‘Of course not, Sister, but perhaps Captain Drover of the Salvation Army could visit the ward instead, to speak to patients and their visitors,’ Matron replied. It was an order rather than a suggestion, but the Sister was shocked.

  ‘What? A young man, Matron, comin’ round my ward an’ speakin’ to these women in their beds? It’d be most improper!’