District Nurse on Call

by Donna Douglas

  Carrie was so excited she couldn’t wait for Nancy to see it. So once Henry had woken up from his nap, she dressed him in his woolly coat and hat and set off to the Co-op, the parcel tucked underneath the pram.

  The store wasn’t nearly as busy as it usually was on a Saturday. Carrie was aware of the other women turning their heads to look at her as she dodged Mr Fensom’s greeting and hurried to the drapery counter.

  There was another girl, Betty Willis, behind the counter. They had been friends when Carrie worked there.

  ‘Hello, love – oops, I mean, Mrs Shepherd,’ Betty corrected herself, smiling. ‘What can I do for you today?’

  Carrie glanced over her shoulder, but Mr Fensom was busy with another customer on the other side of the store.

  ‘I was looking for Nancy. Is she here?’

  Betty shook her head. ‘It’s her day off today. She’s gone shopping in Leeds with Iris Maskell.’ She pulled a face. ‘All right for some, in’t it? They should never have been allowed the same day off by rights, but Nancy managed to sweet-talk Mr Fensom. I reckon he’s got a bit of a soft spot for her mysen, dirty old goat! Anyway, I’ve been left to look after drapery and haberdashery all by myself. Lucky it’s not too busy.’ She looked around. ‘I suppose no one feels like shopping, with all this business going on at the pit. Have you heard they’ve locked—?’

  But Carrie’s mind was racing so fast she hardly heard the girl’s chatter. ‘Are you sure Nancy’s gone to Leeds?’ she interrupted her.

  ‘Oh, yes, I heard them talking about it. Very excited they were, off to buy the material for her wedding dress. Been going on about it for days … Oh, where are you going? Are you sure I can’t sell you anything? We’ve just had a new delivery of silk stockings, if you’re interested …’

  Her words followed Carrie as she walked away.

  She stomped home, pushing the pram before her like a battering ram, so fired up with anger she scarcely noticed the people who scattered on the pavement before her.

  How could Nancy do it? Carrie searched her mind, trying to come up with reasons why her friend would be so unkind. Had Nancy forgotten to invite her? But that didn’t make sense. The trip to Leeds had been Carrie’s idea, so Nancy would hardly leave her out.

  Perhaps it was all Iris Maskell’s doing? She had always been a jealous cat. She probably wanted Nancy all to herself, so she had worked out a way to come between the friends. But if that was true, why hadn’t Nancy stood up for Carrie?

  There was only one way to find out, Carrie decided, and that was to ask her outright.

  The last bus back from Leeds that afternoon was due in soon. Carrie pushed the pram up to the stop at the top of the lane. As she walked, her mind simmered with rage, planning what she might do. She would throw the package at Nancy and then stalk off, her head in the air. She would slap Iris around her smug face. She would …

  But when the bus finally trundled into view down the lane and came to a halt in front of her, it was all Carrie could do to stop her heart beating right out of her chest.

  The girls stepped off the bus, laughing together. Nancy was clutching a brown paper parcel similar to the one that had arrived that morning from Goodman’s.

  The air was cold against Carrie’s scalding face, and she felt the sudden urge to run, but there was nowhere to hide.

  Nancy saw her first. She stopped laughing, and grabbed Iris’ arm. Then Iris looked round, her smile widening into something more malicious.

  ‘Did you have a nice time in Leeds?’ Carrie greeted them, her bitterness spilling over.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Iris replied.

  ‘We were going to ask you.’ Nancy’s words tumbled out in a rush. ‘But we only found out at the last minute that we both had the day off, so there wasn’t time.’

  ‘That’s not what Betty Willis told me. She said you’ve been talking about it for ages.’

  Nancy blushed. ‘I—’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Carrie said. ‘You can spare me more lies. You were never going to invite me, were you?’

  ‘That’s not—’ Nancy started to say, but Iris interrupted her.

  ‘You’re right, we didn’t want you to come,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘Iris!’ Nancy hissed, but Iris was defiant.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I speak the truth? It’s about time someone put her straight.’ She turned to Carrie, her eyes narrowed in spite. ‘You would have only spoiled Nancy’s day, showing off and looking down your nose at her.’

  Carrie looked at Nancy. She was biting her lip, close to tears. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘She’ll not say anything because she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings,’ Iris spoke for her again. ‘But Nancy doesn’t want to know you, not any more.’ She linked her arm through the other girl’s possessively.

  Carrie stared from one to the other of them. Nancy was staring down at her shoes, while Iris looked like the cat that got the cream.

  ‘In that case, I’ll not bother you again.’ She fought to keep her dignity, hating the treacherous wobble in her voice.

  ‘Carrie, please!’ Nancy found her voice at last, but Carrie didn’t stop to hear what she had to say. She moved past them, pushing the pram.

  ‘And you needn’t think you’re going to be matron of honour, either!’ Iris called after her.

  Carrie had turned the corner and was halfway down the street when Nancy caught up with her. Carrie heard her friend’s footsteps running after her, but was too hurt and upset to stop.

  ‘Carrie! Wait!’ Nancy cried after her.

  ‘What for?’ She carried on walking, her head down.

  Nancy grabbed her by the arm, swinging her round to face her. Her round face was pink and shiny from running. ‘Don’t be like that. I’m sorry about what Iris said. Don’t take any notice of her. She’s just jealous of you because we used to be such good friends.’

  Used to be. The words stung. Carriee swallowed hard. ‘So are you saying it was her idea not to invite me to go to Leeds with you?’

  Nancy hesitated for a moment. ‘No, it was mine.’ She stared down at the ground. ‘But it in’t because I don’t like you – I do,’ she added in a rush. ‘I was just worried you’d insist on paying for everything. You were talking about going for tea in a posh hotel …’

  ‘I just wanted to do summat nice for you, that’s all.’ Carrie kept her eyes fixed on the top of Henry’s head, encased in a woolly bonnet. ‘We always used to talk about going somewhere posh for tea one day, don’t you remember? I thought you’d enjoy it.’

  ‘I would have enjoyed it more if I could pay my share,’ Nancy said.

  ‘But you didn’t have to. It was my treat.’

  ‘It would have felt more like charity to me.’

  Carrie stared at her friend, shocked. ‘I – I just wanted to make it special for you.’

  ‘But I don’t want you to do anything special!’ Nancy cried. ‘Don’t you understand, Carrie? It doesn’t feel right any more, you and me.’

  Her mother’s words came back to her. Like it or not, you mix in different circles now.

  ‘So we can’t be friends any more because my husband is the pit manager, is that it?’ Carrie said miserably.

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Nancy laid a hand on hers. Even her fingers, red and callused from helping her mother with the housework, looked different from Carrie’s soft white hands. ‘But surely you must be able to see it can never be like it was before? I’m going to be a pitman’s wife, Carrie. You’ll never understand that life.’

  ‘How can you say that? I was brought up in that life, same as you. Our fathers worked down the mine together. We used to dash their clothes for them, and get all the beetles out of the pockets.’ She saw Nancy’s grimace. She always hated touching the little black bugs, it was Carrie who’d had to get them out for her. ‘Anyway, I might have been a pitman’s wife too, if only Rob hadn’t—’ She stopped herself, pressing her lips together.

  She hadn’t asked him to break he
r heart. Rob Chadwick and his cousin Archie had been Carrie and Nancy’s childhood sweethearts. The two girls had planned their futures around their weddings. They had already made up their mind that once they were married they would live in cottages next door to each other. Rob and Archie would work down the pit together, and Carrie and Nancy would have babies, and look after their houses, and be closer to each other than their own sisters.

  But then Rob’s father had been killed in a pit accident three years earlier, and his mother had decided to move back to her own family in Durham. And Rob had gone with her and his younger brothers and sisters, even though he was turned twenty-one and could just as easily have stayed in Bowden and married Carrie as they had always planned.

  ‘I know,’ Nancy said quietly. ‘Perhaps things might have been different then.’

  Carrie smiled wistfully. ‘Remember how we used to plan our weddings?’ she said. ‘We used to sit on the wall at the bottom of the lane and talk about what we would wear, and what flowers we would have.’

  ‘And how handsome Archie and Rob would look in their suits,’ Nancy added.

  ‘We were even going to have a double wedding, until we realised we couldn’t be each other’s bridesmaid if we got married at the same time.’

  Nancy turned to face her. ‘I still want you to be my matron of honour,’ she said.

  A lump rose in Carrie’s throat. ‘That’s not what Iris said.’

  ‘Oh, take no notice of her. I told you, she’s just jealous. But it’s my choice, not hers.’ Nancy squeezed Carrie’s hand. ‘Besides, we promised each other, didn’t we?’

  Carrie felt her smile tremble. Was Nancy just trying to be nice? It was hard to tell, but at that moment she was too happy they were still friends to question it too deeply.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she said.

  They said their goodbyes. As they parted, Carrie suddenly remembered the gift she had bought.

  ‘Nancy?’ she called out to her.

  Nancy turned. ‘Yes? What is it?’

  Carrie thought about the brown paper parcel Nancy had carried so proudly off the bus, the fabric she had chosen to make her wedding dress. Carrie hadn’t seen inside the parcel, but she was willing to bet it was nowhere near as beautiful or as expensive as the silk brocade she had ordered.

  Then she saw the wary look in Nancy’s green eyes.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  She could send the fabric back to Goodman’s first thing on Monday morning.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By Wednesday, the miners’ dispute had spread like a virus throughout the country. Agnes woke up that morning to the news that the whole country had gone on strike.

  ‘There are no buses running, no gas or electricity. And I don’t know what Dr Rutherford is going to do without his morning newspaper.’ Mrs Bannister made a rare appearance in the kitchen to fret about the situation.

  ‘I’m sure the doctor will be able to make do, like the rest of us,’ Agnes said mildly as she chewed on the slice of bread and jam Jinny had put in front of her.

  ‘Yes, well, he shouldn’t have to make do, should he? He works hard, he’s entitled to his home comforts.’

  Agnes glanced at Jinny Chadwick, over by the sink. The girl said nothing, but Agnes could tell by the hunch of her thin shoulders that she was struggling not to speak out.

  ‘The miners are entitled to their home comforts, too,’ Agnes spoke up for her.

  ‘Oh, don’t talk to me about them!’ Mrs Bannister pursed her lips. ‘It’s their fault this country is going to the dogs. If only they’d put a stop to this – what’s that?’

  Mrs Bannister gave a squawk of dismay, threw open the back door and shouted outside, ‘Who’s there? What’s the meaning of this?’

  Agnes caught Jinny’s eye and they both hurried to look out of the window. There, in the kitchen garden, happily munching their way through Dr Rutherford’s prize spring cabbages, were a pair of stocky little brown ponies.

  ‘Pit ponies,’ Jinny whispered. ‘They had to bring ‘em up when they locked the mine.’

  ‘But how did they get here?’ Agnes asked.

  As if in answer to her question, there was a rustle in the shrubbery. Agnes caught a glimpse of a boy’s tousled dark head coming out from behind the potting shed before quickly disappearing again.

  ‘I see you, Christopher Stanhope!’ Mrs Bannister called out to him. ‘Come out here and show yourself!’

  The boy broke cover and sprinted off down the path, vaulting the back gate easily until all that was left was the echo of his laughter and the two ponies, cabbage leaves hanging from their chewing mouths, wondering what all the fuss was about.

  ‘I know where you live!’ Mrs Bannister shouted down the garden, even though the boy was long gone. ‘And you can be sure the doctor will have something to say to your father when he sees all this mess!’ She stared at the ponies. They gazed back at her calmly from under long blond fringes. It was all Agnes could do not to laugh at the sight. Next to her, Jinny had clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her own laughter.

  But her grin disappeared when Mrs Bannister swung round to face them. ‘Well, don’t just stand there, girl! Do something!’ she screeched at Jinny.

  The maid looked blank. ‘What am I supposed to do, ma’am?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I?’ Mrs Bannister waved her hand towards the ponies. ‘Round them up and take them back where they belong before they do any more damage. Poor Dr Rutherford, as if this nasty strike business wasn’t difficult enough for him.’

  Agnes glanced at Jinny. Once again, the girl said nothing, but her look spoke volumes.

  By the Thursday morning, much to Mrs Bannister’s relief, volunteers had managed to get the electricity working again, so at least Dr Rutherford wasn’t inconvenienced for too long. The government had even managed to produce a newspaper, The British Gazette, for him to read over his cooked breakfast. Agnes caught Jinny just before she used it to light the fire.

  On the Friday morning, Agnes returned to Steeple Street for the first time to report back to Miss Gale, the Superintendent.

  It had been three months since she left, and she hadn’t realised how much she had missed it until she was cycling back through the city. Seeing the familiar busy streets bustling with people, cars and carts cheered her. She felt her heart lifting as she cycled up Steeple Street, towards the tall, gabled district nurses’ house. And when Dottie the maid answered the door it was all Agnes could do not to hug her.

  Everything in the Steeple Street house was still the same. The long hallway, with its airy high ceiling, black-and-white-tiled floor, the telephone on the wall and the noticeboard covered with rotas. The pigeonholes where Agnes had searched so patiently for a letter from her mother …

  It was odd to see so many new names there, written on the labels. Her own pigeonhole was now taken by someone with the rather grand name of Deborah Banks-Hulme.

  Agnes couldn’t help smiling to herself, wondering what Bess Bradshaw would be making of that particular girl. The Assistant Superintendent delighted in taking posh girls down a peg or two. Hadn’t she done just that to Agnes when she first arrived? Or at least had tried. As it turned out, they had ended up learning a lesson from each other.

  But even though the district nurses’ house was still familiar to Agnes, at the same time it felt strangely distant, as if it was no longer her home. Agnes had moved on, but life in Steeple Street had continued just as it always did and the hole she had left had quickly been filled in and forgotten.

  It gave her a pang. How she longed to be back there, surrounded by her friends in the safety of Steeple Street rather than isolated in Bowden.

  Even Dottie seemed puzzled by her presence. ‘Have you come back? Only there’s someone else in your room now,’ she said bluntly. ‘There’s no room for you any more,’ she added, just in case Agnes had missed her point.

  Agnes smiled patiently. ‘No, Dottie, I’ve come bac
k to see Miss Gale.’

  The maid looked blank. ‘Well, she in’t here. She’s gone off for one of her meetings.’

  ‘A meeting?’ Agnes tried to suppress her annoyance. ‘But she knew I was coming.’

  ‘Perhaps she forgot?’ Dottie shrugged her narrow shoulders.

  Agnes frowned. It wasn’t surprising. The Nursing Superintendent spent much of her time in various meetings, rushing from one to the next with barely time to think in between.

  ‘Do you know when she’s expected back?’ she asked. Dottie shrugged again. ‘Then I’ll wait for her.’ Agnes started towards the Common Room, but Dottie blocked her path.

  ‘You can’t,’ she said. ‘That’s the nurses’ room.’

  ‘I am a nurse—’ Agnes started to say, but Dottie stood firm, her skinny arms folded.

  ‘You can wait there.’ She nodded to the solitary chair outside the Superintendent’s office. ‘That’s where visitors sit.’

  ‘But I’m not a visitor,’ Agnes started to explain again. But Dottie would not be budged, so in the end Agnes gave up and waited where she was put.

  She took her place on the chair in the hall, remembering how she had sat there on her very first day. She had been so different then, so convinced that she knew it all. She had come up from London, where she had trained as a nurse in one of the best hospitals in the country. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing anyone could teach her.

  How wrong she had been.

  ‘No!’ A voice boomed out from the porch outside, making her jump. ‘I’ve said how it should be done, and I want no more arguments. And if you look at that watch of yours again, I’ll take it off you and chuck it in the canal! It’ll take as long as I say it’ll take.’

  Agnes smiled. She would have known that forthright manner anywhere! She turned towards the front door as it opened and Bess Bradshaw entered, a weary-looking student nurse trailing behind her. Agnes recognised at once the look of nervous exasperation on the poor girl’s face. She had felt the same way many times while out on her rounds with Bess.