‘Now then, Miss Sheridan,’ Eric Wardle said. ‘As Miss Gale has probably told you, we’ve never had a district nurse in Bowden before, and I must confess we’re at a bit of a loss as to what tha’ll be doing in the village. Perhaps you could tell us?’
Agnes considered the question for a moment. ‘Well,’ she said finally, ‘I suppose one of my duties will be to assist the doctor.’
‘Assist him?’ Sam Maskell laughed. ‘Then tha’ll have an easy life, since that lazy bugger niver does owt!’
‘Shh!’ Eric frowned at him. ‘We’ll have no pit talk in front of the lady, if you please. Go on, Miss Sheridan.’
‘But mainly I’ll be doing all I can to nurse the miners and their families, since my position is being funded by the Miners’ Welfare,’ Agnes continued. ‘I’ll be visiting the chronically ill patients, giving them whatever care is needed. I’ll dress wounds, give help with feeding and bathing. I’ll also be acting as a midwife, and advising mothers on the best way to care for their children—’
‘My missus wouldn’t thank you for that!’ Reg Willis interrupted. ‘She never takes advice from anybody.’
‘Nor mine,’ Sam Maskell agreed. ‘And they don’t need any advice on having babies, neither. They’ve been doing it for years.’
‘I reckon mine needs advice on how not to have ’em,’ Tom Chadwick said gloomily. ‘Then maybe we wouldn’t have so many mouths to feed.’
Sam slapped him on the shoulder. ‘If tha doesn’t know where all them bairns come from by now, Tom lad, then you’re beyond help, even from t’nurse!’
‘It’s part of the nurse’s job to prevent illness as well as treating it.’ Agnes raised her voice over their laughter. ‘That means giving advice and promoting good health and hygiene.’
‘Oh, Lord, listen to her!’ Sam Maskell guffawed again. ‘Tha’ll have a job on tha hands here, lass.’
‘Sam’s right,’ Eric nodded. ‘We don’t care much for change in Bowden.’ He smiled apologetically. ‘I in’t sure how we’ll take to your new-fangled ideas.’
Agnes frowned. ‘Then may I ask why I’m here?’
‘Good question,’ Seth Stanhope muttered from the far end of the table.
‘The Miners’ Welfare Committee decided it were time we had a district nurse in the village,’ Eric Wardle said, glaring at Seth. ‘I didn’t say we didn’t need thee, Miss Sheridan. I just think tha’ll have a hard time winning people over.’
‘I’ll do my best to persuade them to my way of thinking,’ Agnes said.
‘I daresay tha’ll have a good try.’ Eric Wardle looked thoughtful. ‘Now, I don’t know about you, but I reckon we’ve heard enough. So if there are no more questions for Miss Sheridan …?’ He glanced quickly up and down the table. The other men shook their heads. ‘Good. Then I daresay you’ll be wanting to settle in to your new lodgings, Miss Sheridan. We’ve arranged for you to stay with t’doctor, since you’ll be working with him. Dr Rutherford is an elderly widower and his housekeeper Mrs Bannister lives in, so it’s all quite respectable. I hope that suits?’
‘I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable there,’ Agnes said.
‘I wouldn’t bet on that, not with that baggage Mrs Bannister in charge!’ Sam Maskell grinned, showing several gaps where his teeth had once been. ‘Stay on the right side of her, miss, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘Now then, Sam. Don’t you go putting the poor lass off.’ Eric turned to Agnes, his smile back in place. ‘The doctor lives a fair distance away, and it’s easy to get lost. One of us should go with you, show you the way. Perhaps Seth—’
Agnes caught his eye. It was hard to tell which of them was more dismayed at the suggestion. ‘There’s no need,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m sure I can find it if you give me directions.’
‘Are you certain, miss? As I said, it’s a fair distance.’
‘I’ve got my bicycle.’ Agnes ignored the dark look Seth sent her. ‘And I’m quite good at finding my way around, once I’ve got my bearings.’
Eric Wardle rose to his feet slowly, and once again Agnes noticed how heavily he leaned on his stick. Pott’s disease, she guessed, judging by the unnatural curve of his spine. He held himself so rigidly, she was sure he must be wearing a brace underneath his shirt.
‘Tha can’t miss it,’ he said. ‘It’s right on t’edge of village, on t’opposite side to the pit. Tha, will have come in that way, I expect? The road from Leeds passes through that end of Bowden.’
‘All the best people live out there,’ Reg Willis said. ‘As far away from t’pit as they can get. They don’t like the smoke and the smell, y’see.’
‘The doctor’s house stands by itself, as the hill rises,’ Eric continued. ‘Just before the lane that goes up to t’big house.’
‘The big house?’ Agnes queried.
‘Where the Haverstocks live,’ Reg Willis put in. ‘The pit owners,’ he explained, as Agnes looked puzzled.
‘They live up on t’hill. So they can look down on us all,’ Tom Chadwick said, and the other men laughed. Except for Seth Stanhope, who once again failed to crack a smile.
Eric Wardle watched from the window as Agnes Sheridan cycled off up the road, then turned to his fellow committee members. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘What did you think of our new district nurse?’
‘I didn’t expect her to be so young. Or so pretty.’ Reg Willis leered. ‘Might almost be worth getting sick to find her at my bedside.’
‘She wouldn’t get anywhere near you,’ Sam Maskell said. ‘Your missus would see her off with a rolling pin long before she caught sight of you in your combinations!’
‘True,’ Reg agreed gloomily.
‘I don’t suppose your missus will be the only one,’ Tom Chadwick said. ‘I can’t see anyone in Bowden taking to her. She seems like a sharp little madam to me.’
‘We’ll have to see, won’t we?’ Eric looked down the table at Seth Stanhope. ‘What do you reckon, Seth? You’ve been very quiet on the subject.’
Seth gathered up his papers. ‘You know what I think.’
‘He doesn’t like her,’ Reg said, grinning. ‘He’s taken agin’ her, I can tell.’
‘It’s nowt to do wi’ her. I just think the money could be better spent elsewhere, that’s all. Especially when there’s trouble coming.’
The other men shook their heads. ‘Here he goes again,’ Tom sighed.
‘Anyone would think he were looking for trouble,’ Reg muttered.
‘You think I want another strike like the last one?’ Seth turned on him. ‘This colliery nearly went to the wall five year ago, and the rest of us with it. You think I want that to happen?’
‘It won’t come to that, lad,’ Sam said patiently. ‘There’s no strike coming.’
‘No strike? Have you been paying attention to what’s going on? The government have said they want the mine owners to increase our shifts and cut our pay by thirteen per cent. Thirteen per cent! You think the miners will stand for it? Because I certainly won’t.’ Seth shook his head. ‘I’m telling you, there’s trouble coming whether we want it or not. And we should be putting the Miners’ Welfare contributions towards that, not wasting it on bloody nurses!’
The other men fell silent. Everyone was wary of Seth Stanhope’s quick temper, which never seemed too far from the surface these days. But Eric recognised the passion – and the fear – behind his angry words.
‘Happen you’re right, Seth lad,’ he said. ‘But it’s all been decided now, and the money’s been set aside, so there’s nothing more to be said. Anyway, it’s not as if we can’t change our mind, if needs be. Miss Gale was very clear on that.’
‘I’d be surprised if she don’t turn tail and run herself, once she sees this place,’ Tom said.
‘I in’t so sure.’ Eric thought about the look of fearless determination in Agnes Sheridan’s brown eyes. ‘I don’t think she’s one to give in easily. She knows her own mind, that’s for sure.’
‘Aye, God help us,’ Set
h Stanhope muttered.
Eric smiled to himself. Agnes Sheridan had only been in Bowden for five minutes, and she’d already rattled Seth Stanhope’s cage. He wondered how many more people she would manage to rattle.
Chapter Three
It was late afternoon by the time Agnes reached Dr Rutherford’s house. As Mr Wardle had directed, it was right on the edge of the village, hidden from the lane by a high, ivy-covered wall. Dr Rutherford was a man who liked his privacy, Agnes decided, as she pushed her bicycle through the tall, wrought-iron gates.
The house was beautiful, big and rambling, with mullioned windows and mellow grey brickwork. Agnes propped her bicycle against the porch, brushed down her coat, straightened her cap and tugged on the bell pull. A moment later she heard a woman’s voice from inside.
‘Jinny? Jinny, there’s someone at the door.’ There was a pause, then, more impatiently, ‘Jinny? Are you there? Oh, for heaven’s sake! Where is that girl?’
Agnes waited, her hand hovering over the bell. She was just wondering whether to give it another tug when she heard footsteps approaching. A moment later the front door swung open and a woman stood before her.
Agnes’ gaze travelled up to her unsmiling face. The woman was in her fifties, tall and upright. Her carefully curled light brown hair did nothing to soften her hard-boned, masculine features.
‘Yes?’ she snapped.
Agnes straightened her shoulders. ‘My name is Agnes Sheridan. I’m the new nurse.’
The corners of the woman’s mouth turned down even further. ‘Oh, is it today you’re supposed to arrive? No one mentioned it to me.’ She let out a heavy sigh, then said, ‘Well, in that case I suppose you had better come in.’
Agnes carried her suitcase over the threshold and stepped into the large, airy hall.
‘You must be Mrs Bannister?’ she said.
The woman’s glacial eyes narrowed. ‘Who told you that?’
She looked so put out about it, Agnes was slightly flustered, wondering if she had made a mistake. ‘Mr Wardle at the Welfare Committee.’
‘Oh, the Welfare Committee.’ The woman’s mouth tightened in disdain. ‘Don’t talk to me about them. Making free with people’s houses, imposing on their good nature—’
Before Agnes had a chance to reply, a flustered-looking girl came rushing up the kitchen steps, wiping her hands on her oversized white apron.
‘Were you calling me, ma’am?’ she asked breathlessly.
Mrs Bannister turned to her, frowning. ‘It’s too late now, you silly girl, I’ve opened the door myself. But you must come the minute I call in future.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry, ma’am.’
Agnes looked at the maid with sympathy. She was a child, barely more than twelve or thirteen. A skinny little thing, with pale eyes and a narrow, washed-out face framed by a white linen cap. Agnes wondered what Dottie, the maid at Steeple Street, would have done if anyone had spoken to her like that. Taken off her apron and marched straight out of the front door, she suspected.
‘Yes, well, never mind. Take Miss Sheridan’s bag up to her room, if you please. And bring us some tea in the drawing room. And some sandwiches, too. I suppose you’ll be wanting something to eat?’ She made it sound like an accusation.
‘That would be very nice, if it’s not too much trouble?’ Agnes replied politely.
‘Too much trouble, she says!’ Mrs Bannister rolled her eyes. ‘Well, don’t just stand there gawping, Jinny!’ She clapped her hands and the girl instantly jumped to attention, grabbing Agnes’ suitcase and hauling it towards the curving staircase. The case was heavy and Agnes could hardly bear to watch her skinny arms struggling to lift it.
Mrs Bannister peered out of the glass panel beside the front door. ‘Is that your bicycle out there? It’ll have to go round the back of the house. We can’t have it cluttering up the porch like that. Dr Rutherford likes everything kept nice.’
‘I’m sorry. I’ll move it at once.’
‘No need. I’ll get Jinny to do it later, before the doctor gets home.’
‘Oh. Is Dr Rutherford on his rounds?’
‘On a Sunday? I should think not.’ Mrs Bannister looked scandalised. ‘Dr Rutherford has gone fishing with Sir Edward this afternoon. I am not expecting him home until later. Now, I’ll show you into the drawing room.’
Agnes would have preferred to go up to her own room, but Mrs Bannister seemed so put out about everything, she didn’t want to antagonise her further.
The drawing room, with its crackling fire and leather Chesterfield sofas, was almost too perfect to be homely. Everything was immaculately arranged, from the Indian rugs on the polished wooden floor, to the artful vase of chrysanthemums on the console table.
It reminded Agnes of the large, comfortable house in leafy North London where she had grown up. Her mother had always had such a sense of style and eye for detail, nothing was ever allowed to be out of place.
At one end of the room was a pair of French doors leading out to the garden. Agnes went over to look out of them. The garden too was perfect, with manicured lawns, flowering shrubs and trees, and an ornamental pond in the centre.
‘Your garden is very beautiful,’ she commented.
‘It is, isn’t it? The doctor is very particular about it.’
‘We had a big garden at the district nurses’ house in Leeds, but it was nowhere near as well kept as this.’ Agnes thought of Steeple Street, with its overgrown grass, shrubs and roses allowed to run wild, and the wasps getting drunk on drifts of fallen apples and plums.
She turned away from the window, an unexpected lump rising in her throat.
The door opened and Jinny the maid came in, struggling with a silver tea tray. Mrs Bannister greeted her with a sour look.
‘Ah, there you are, Jinny. You took your time, I must say. Well, don’t just stand there, girl. Put it on the table before you drop the lot.’
Agnes bit her lip, hardly daring to watch as the tray wobbled dangerously in Jinny’s hands. Miraculously, she managed to set it down without spilling anything.
Mrs Bannister took the lid off the pot and peered into it. ‘How much tea did you put in?’
Jinny’s gaze dropped to the rug. ‘I – I can’t remember, ma’am,’ she mumbled.
‘Can’t remember? Good gracious, girl, it’s a simple enough question! I suppose you were daydreaming again? How on earth can you hope to make a pot of tea correctly if you don’t think about these things?’ She put the lid back on the pot and scanned the tray. ‘And where is the tea strainer?’
‘I—’ Jinny gulped. The poor girl looked near to tears.
Mrs Bannister tutted. ‘Take it away,’ she said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘And come back when you’ve managed to do it properly. I don’t know,’ she sighed, as Jinny stumbled off with the tray. ‘That girl doesn’t seem to be able to do the simplest tasks. You would have thought she would pay attention and try to improve herself, wouldn’t you? But I suppose coming from a family like hers …’ She shook her head, her expression sorrowful.
Agnes stared at Mrs Bannister’s haughty profile and suddenly realised it wasn’t just the house that reminded her of her mother. Agnes had seen the same curl of disdain on Elizabeth Sheridan’s lips when something wasn’t quite up to her standards. Nothing was ever right for her.
Including you. The thought flashed through Agnes’ mind, the pain catching her unawares before she had time to steel herself against it.
She forced herself to think of something else. ‘What time did you say Dr Rutherford would be home?’ she asked.
‘I didn’t,’ Mrs Bannister replied. ‘But I daresay he will be invited to dine at Haverstock Hall, and then he and Sir Edward are bound to end up playing cards until well into the evening.’
‘What a pity,’ Agnes said. ‘I had hoped he might be here to meet me.’
‘Yes, well, I expect he forgot you were coming, just as I did.’ Mrs Bannister sent her a scathing look. ‘I suppose you t
hink you are very important, Miss Sheridan, but I assure you the doctor and I have other matters to think about besides your arrival.’
At that moment Jinny returned with a fresh pot of tea, which mercifully passed Mrs Bannister’s critical examination. Agnes found herself holding her breath as much as poor Jinny, until the housekeeper waved the girl away.
‘So you’ve come from Leeds?’ Mrs Bannister said as she passed Agnes her cup. ‘You don’t sound local.’
‘I’m not. I’m from London originally.’ Agnes avoided her gaze as she stirred her tea.
‘London?’ Mrs Bannister perked up, setting down her cup. ‘Then you must know the Hollister-Bennetts?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t.’
‘Are you sure? They’re terribly well known in society. How about the Duvalls? Or Lord and Lady Penhaven?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve never heard of them.’
‘Well, I must say, I am surprised. I thought everyone had heard of Lord Penhaven.’ Mrs Bannister looked unimpressed. Agnes realised she had been found as wanting as poor Jinny.
‘I myself spent a great deal of time with the aristocracy when I worked for the Charteris family,’ Mrs Bannister went on. ‘Their family seat was in North Yorkshire, but they kept a house in London so their daughters could do the Season. We met so many interesting people. Such wonderful parties.’ She smiled fondly at the memory. ‘So what kind of family do you come from, Miss Sheridan?’
Agnes’ stomach sank at the question. ‘Well, my father is a doctor. ‘
‘What kind of doctor?’ Mrs Bannister pounced.
‘A GP. But he’s retired now.’ The Great War had seen to that. Charles Sheridan had returned from France a changed man. Unable to forget the horrors that he had witnessed in the trenches, he had withdrawn from his beloved practice, and from his family.
‘And your mother? I suppose she does a great deal of work for charity?’
‘I suppose so.’ Agnes felt a chill in her heart, thinking about Elizabeth Sheridan.
‘Suppose? You mean, you don’t know?’
District Nurse on Call Page 2