Mrs Chadwick ignored her, setting down her shovel. ‘What’s she doing here?’ she said to her husband.
‘I’ve asked her to come and look at our Ernest.’
Ruth Chadwick looked around sharply at the other women, who were all staring their way. Then she hurried into the cottage. Agnes and Tom Chadwick followed.
‘Your husband told me the baby has a problem with his neck, Mrs Chadwick?’ Agnes said.
‘Nay.’ Ruth closed the cottage door firmly and stood against it. ‘There’s nowt wrong with the bairn.’
Agnes glanced at Tom. ‘Oh, but Mr Chadwick said …’
‘As I said, there’s no need to trouble thysen. Sorry you had a wasted journey.’ Mrs Chadwick glared at her husband.
‘Let her see the bairn, Ruth,’ Tom Chadwick said.
‘I told you, there’s no need.’
‘All the same, it won’t do any harm for her to have a look since she’s here, eh?’
For a moment none of them spoke. Agnes felt herself caught in the middle of a tense, silent battle between husband and wife. Then Mrs Chadwick released her grip on Agnes and crossed the room to the baby’s makeshift cot, a wooden box propped on crude rockers.
She took a long time to gather the infant into her arms before she brought him back to Agnes, bundled in several layers of shawl. Agnes could feel the other woman’s reluctance in every tense muscle of her body as she handed the baby over.
‘That’s it.’ Tom Chadwick exhaled with relief. ‘The nurse will soon tell us what’s what. In’t that right, Nurse?’
‘I’ll do my best, Mr Chadwick.’
Agnes set the baby down on the rug in front of the fire and set about peeling off the woollen layers. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the accusing look Mrs Chadwick was giving her husband.
She knew straight away what was wrong, even before she had taken off the final layer of shawl.
‘Torticollis,’ she said. ‘Wry neck, it’s sometimes called. The muscles on this side of the neck are contracted, do you see? It happens quite often, especially after a difficult birth.’
‘You did have a hard time with him, didn’t you?’ Tom turned to his wife. Ruth Chadwick said nothing, her mutinous gaze still fixed on the baby.
‘Can it be put right?’ Tom asked. ‘He won’t need an operation, will he?’
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ Agnes said. ‘If you catch it early enough, it’s possible to – what’s this?’ She smelled the pungent herbs before she found the small muslin pouch fastened around the baby’s neck and tucked inside his vest.
‘It’s to treat the bairn.’ Ruth finally spoke up.
Agnes did not need telling. She recognised Hannah Arkwright’s handiwork straight away.
‘Yes, well, it’s very dangerous,’ Agnes gently unhooked it from the baby’s neck. ‘Ernest could have strangled himself in his sleep.’
‘Hannah said it wouldn’t do any harm,’ Ruth muttered.
‘It won’t do a lot of good, either,’ Agnes said. ‘The only way to correct this condition is with regular massage to stretch the shortened muscle.’
Tom looked at his wife, his coal-caked face breaking into a smile. ‘You hear that, Ruth? The nurse can make him better.’
Mrs Chadwick said nothing. Her gaze was fixed on the pouch of herbs in Agnes’ hand. She hugged herself, her thin fingers clawing away at her arms through the long sleeves of her dress.
‘I could show you how to do it, too?’ Agnes offered. ‘Then you can treat him yourself.’
‘That’s very good news, Nurse. Isn’t it, Ruth?’ Tom Chadwick looked encouragingly at his wife.
Pent-up emotion seemed to burst out of Mrs Chadwick. She lunged forward and made a grab for the baby. ‘I’d rather do what Hannah says, if you don’t mind,’ she muttered, bundling him back in his layers of shawl, as if she couldn’t cover him quick enough.
‘But Mrs Chadwick—’
‘Ruth!’
Tom and Agnes spoke together. But Ruth Chadwick shook her head.
‘I’ve made up my mind. And I’ll take that, if you please?’ She held out her hand for the bag of herbs. As Agnes handed them over, she noticed the other woman’s fingers were trembling.
She watched helplessly as Ruth Chadwick looped the string back over the baby’s neck. ‘He really would do better if I could treat him, you know,’ Agnes said gently.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Ruth, please.’
‘I said no!’ Ruth Chadwick raised her voice, startling her husband. ‘I know what I’m doing,’ she said, more quietly.
Agnes got to her feet. ‘In that case, I’d best go,’ she said.
Tom Chadwick saw her to the door. ‘I’m sorry for your trouble, Nurse,’ he said.
‘It’s quite all right, Mr Chadwick.’ Agnes looked past his shoulder to where Ruth rocked her baby, pressing him close into her shoulder. ‘You know where to find me if your wife changes her mind.’
‘Aye, I do.’ Tom Chadwick glanced over his shoulder. ‘But I doubt she will,’ he said regretfully.
Ruth Chadwick turned on her husband as soon as he had closed the door.
‘What did you have to bring her here for, in front of everyone? They’ll all be talking now.’
‘They’ll know soon enough. You can’t hide him forever, Ruth.’
Hot colour flooded her face. ‘He’ll be all right soon. Hannah said—’
‘And you heard what the nurse said. The bag of herbs won’t do him any good. It’s all superstitious nonsense.’
‘You’re not to talk like that! What if Hannah was to hear you?’
Ruth hurried to the window and looked out, half expecting to see her marching down the path.
‘I don’t care if she does. I’d say it to her face if she was here.’ Tom shook his head. ‘I don’t know why you’re so scared of her, Ruth.’
‘I in’t scared.’ But Ruth could see her own blanched face in the mirror, giving her away.
‘That’s the way it looks to me. I’ve seen the two of you together, the way she orders you about. And you don’t dare say a word back to her. Is it because you believe all this nonsense about her being a witch? Is that why you’re so afraid?’
‘You’ve got it wrong,’ Ruth insisted. ‘Hannah’s my friend, that’s all.’
‘Friend!’ Tom mocked.
‘And she promised to take care of our Ernest, and I think it’s only fair we give her a chance.’
‘She’s done no good for the bairn so far, with all her herbs and her spells.’
‘We have to be patient.’ Ruth looked down at the baby in her arms. She tried to tell herself that Ernest was getting better, but deep down she knew she was imagining it. His poor little head still sat at an awkward angle, his right ear nearly touching his shoulder.
‘You’re as worried as I am,’ Tom said. ‘You know Hannah’s treatment in’t doing him any good. The bairn needs proper nursing care. And the longer we leave it, I reckon the harder it’ll be to put right.’ He moved to stand behind her. ‘Why don’t you let the nurse treat him?’ he coaxed.
Ernest opened his eyes and stared back up at her, his gaze innocent and trusting. ‘Hannah will make it better,’ she insisted stubbornly.
‘For heaven’s sake!’ Tom lost patience, turning away from her. ‘I’m beginning to think you’d rather the bairn stayed the way he is, for the rest of his life, than upset Hannah Arkwright!’
‘That’s not true!’ Ruth put the baby back in his cot, pulling the covers up to his chin. ‘We’ve got to trust Hannah,’ she said quietly. ‘She knows what’s best.’
She only hoped her friend never found out that Agnes Sheridan had been to visit.
Chapter Thirteen
Carrie Shepherd’s mother was waiting outside the Co-op with Carrie’s younger sister Eliza, who was shivering dramatically, in spite of her thick coat and the mild April day.
‘Here she comes at last!’ Eliza said as Carrie approached, pushing Henry in his pram.
‘D’you know how long we’ve been waiting out here? I’m nithered.’
‘You could have gone in without me,’ Carrie said.
‘You know Mother won’t do that. She likes to see the manager bow and scrape, and he only does that when you’re with us.’
‘Now, Eliza Wardle, that’s not true!’ her mother denied furiously, but her blushing face gave her away.
‘It’s all right, Mother.’ Carrie smiled, parking the pram outside the shop. ‘I must say, I quite enjoy it, too!’
Before she married James, Carrie had worked at the Co-op and the manager, Mr Fensom, had been a monstrous bully to her and the other girls. It did give her a tiny twinge of satisfaction to see him rush to open the door for them as they walked in.
‘Good morning, Mrs Shepherd … Mrs Wardle. What can we do for you today?’ He greeted them in a warm, treacly voice, his smile stretched over his large teeth. Carrie could only guess how much it hurt him to have to be pleasant to her. But she was the pit manager’s wife, and he couldn’t afford to be anything else.
Out of the corner of her eye she could see aprons being smoothed and caps being straightened, the salesgirls standing to attention behind their counters. She had been just the same herself when an important customer approached the drapery counter where she had worked with her pal Nancy Morris.
‘Good morning, Mr Fensom,’ Mrs Wardle greeted him politely. Carrie glanced sideways at her mother as she handed the manager her shopping list. She could remember the times when her father had been too ill to work, and her mother had scrimped and scratched around to put food on the table. She deserved to be treated with some respect now.
‘She’ll have a fit when she finds out you’re putting everything on your account,’ Eliza whispered, as they watched their mother walking off with Mr Fensom bobbing obsequiously behind. ‘You know she don’t like charity.’
‘It in’t charity if it’s from family.’ That was what Carrie had told her mother a few weeks earlier. It had been too much to hope Kathleen Wardle wouldn’t notice that Carrie was settling her bills for her – after all, she was used to counting every penny. Eliza was right, her mother was furious. But Carrie had insisted and finally Kathleen had given in on the understanding that no one else knew anything about it, including her other daughters.
‘I don’t reckon Mother will see it like that. I, on t’other hand, don’t mind accepting your charity, sister dear.’ Eliza linked her arm through Carrie’s. ‘I need to buy some buttons for the new dress I’m making, and I’m happy to put ’em on your account!’
‘I’m sure you are!’ Carrie laughed. ‘But happen I don’t mind, because it means I can have a chat with Nancy while you’re choosing them.’
Eliza sent her a curious look. ‘I didn’t know you two were still friendly?’
‘Of course we are. Nancy’s my best friend.’
‘Oh, aye? When was the last time you spoke?’
Carrie thought about it for a moment. ‘I can’t remember,’ she admitted. ‘But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s still my friend.’ She and Nancy Morris had been thick as thieves ever since they were babies. Their fathers worked together at the pit, their mothers were friends, and Carrie and Nancy had sat next to each other at school and plaited each other’s hair and played with dolls for as long as she could remember.
‘So you’ll have heard her news, then?’
‘What news is that?’
Eliza smiled slyly. ‘I’d best let her tell you herself.’
There was a new girl behind the drapery counter with Nancy. Carrie frowned when she saw who it was.
‘Iris Maskell! I didn’t know she’d started working in drapery?’ When Carrie worked there, Iris had been one of the grocery girls, cutting cheese and weighing out tea and sugar into twists of brown paper.
’There’s a lot you don’t know, I reckon.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Eliza gave her an infuriating smile. ‘You’ll see.’
Carrie ignored her, turning back to Iris. ‘Nancy won’t like that.’
Iris had been at school with her and Nancy, but they had never liked her. She had been full of airs and graces just because her father worked as an overman at the pit.
‘They look friendly enough to me.’
Carrie watched them for a moment, giggling as they arranged gloves in a glass case. Her sister was right, they did seem very thick together.
Iris spotted them as they approached the counter. She left Nancy arranging the gloves and came over.
‘Yes?’ she said. ‘Can I help you?’
She was just as sharp as she had been at school, Carrie thought. Everything about her was small and mean, from her spiteful, foxy face to her pinched mouth and beady eyes.
Eliza stepped forward. ‘I’m looking for some buttons,’ she announced.
‘Certainly,’ Iris said. She had a funny way of speaking, not like the rest of the girls in the village. Once Sam Maskell was promoted to overman, his wife had sent all their children for special lessons in Leeds on how to speak correctly. ‘What kind are you looking for?’
‘Oh, I don’t know …’ Eliza looked beyond Iris, scanning the shelves. ‘I think you’d best show me everything, so I can make up my mind.’
Iris blinked at her. ‘Everything? You mean you want to see them all?’
‘That’s right.’ Eliza smiled back innocently.
Iris’ tiny mouth pursed even more, as if to hold back a retort. She opened the glass cabinet and started bringing out the boxes of buttons, dumping them ungraciously on the counter top.
Carrie left Eliza enjoying herself with Iris and went over to where Nancy was putting away the gloves. She was as pretty as Iris Maskell was plain, with a rounded figure, rosy cheeks and hair the colour of honey.
‘Hello, Nance,’ Carrie said.
‘Ribbon, Madam?’ Nancy replied, glancing past her shoulder. ‘Yes, I’m sure we have something to suit.’
‘Oh, but I don’t want …’ Carrie started to say, then she followed Nancy’s gaze over her shoulder to where Mr Fensom was watching them from the doorway that led to the grocery department. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
She waited while Nancy went off to fetch the ribbons from the cabinet behind her. At the far end of the counter, Eliza was carefully picking her way through several boxes of buttons while Iris Maskell glared at her.
Nancy finally returned. ‘As you see, we have quite a selection for you to choose from …’ She carefully arranged the skeins of ribbon on the glass-topped counter. Her cheeks dimpled with the smile she tried to hold in. ‘Sorry about that,’ she murmured under her breath. ‘Old Fensom’s already warned me about chatting twice today, and it in’t even dinnertime.’
‘He in’t changed, then?’ Carrie said as she pretended to peruse the ribbons.
‘No such luck.’ Nancy rolled her green eyes. ‘So what’s brought you in here? I didn’t think you did your own shopping these days?’
Carrie blushed. Nancy made her sound so grand. It hadn’t been her idea to have their groceries delivered, but James seemed to think it was the right thing to do, and she had gone along with it. But she did miss shopping at the Co-op every week and going to the markets in Leeds on a Saturday with her mother and sisters.
‘I’m helping Mother,’ she said.
‘Where’s the bairn? Has tha brought him wi’ thee?’
Carrie nodded. ‘He’s outside, in his pram.’
Nancy’s mouth turned down. ‘That’s a shame. I would have liked to see him. He must be getting big by now.’
‘Aye, he is. You’ll have to come and visit.’
‘Aye.’ Nancy kept her head down, straightening the ribbons on the counter. ‘I will, soon.’
‘I hope so. It seems like ages since we’ve had a proper chat.’ Carrie looked around her with a sigh. ‘Y’know, I miss working here sometimes.’
Nancy grinned. ‘What? Being on tha feet all day and having to put up wi’ old Fensom?’
<
br /> ‘Happen not that, so much. But I miss us having a laugh together.’
‘Me too.’ Nancy grinned. ‘We had some times, didn’t we?’
‘That we did. But I see you’ve got someone else to have a laugh with now.’ Carrie glanced down to the end of the counter, where Iris Maskell was watching them out of the corner of her eye. ‘Poor you,’ she said in an undertone.
‘She in’t that bad,’ Nancy muttered, glancing in Iris’ direction. ‘She’s all right once tha gets to know her.’
‘If you say so.’ Carrie turned back to Nancy. ‘So what’s been going on since I last saw you? Eliza said you’ve got some news?’
Nancy’s gaze slid away, back towards Iris. Carrie felt a warning tingle on the back of her neck. ‘Nancy Morris, is there something you’re not telling me?’ she teased.
Before Nancy could reply, Iris spoke up from the other end of the counter. ‘You mean to say you in’t told her, Nance?’
‘I – I in’t had a chance.’
Carrie looked from Iris to Nancy. ‘Told me what?’
‘Nancy’s engaged,’ Iris answered for her.
Carrie stared at Nancy. ‘Is this true?’ Nancy nodded. ‘Since when?’
‘Archie asked me two weeks ago.’ Nancy kept her gaze fixed on straightening the ribbon skeins. As she did, Carrie suddenly noticed the engagement ring on her finger. How had she not seen it before?
‘Two weeks?’
‘I was going to tell you, next time I saw you,’ Nancy said quietly.
Carrie looked at her friend’s glum face and pulled herself together. This was supposed to be a happy occasion, she had no right to make Nancy feel bad about it. And she certainly wouldn’t give Iris Maskell the satisfaction of seeing her fall out with her friend.
‘So Archie Chadwick finally proposed?’ She forced a bright smile. ‘I never thought I’d see the day.’
‘Nor did I!’ Nancy finally looked up at her, a smile of relief on her face. ‘But I reckon he only did it because I told him if he didn’t make an honest woman of me, I’d start courting someone else!’
‘Oh, Nance, you didn’t!’
‘Well, I had to do something, didn’t I? If I’d waited for him to make his mind up I would have ended up an old maid!’
District Nurse on Call Page 10