Mrs Willis took the envelope from her. ‘Much obliged, I’m sure,’ she said stiffly.
Ruth willed her to leave. But Agnes Sheridan lingered, looking around her. ‘What are you cooking?’
None of the other women seemed inclined to answer, so Ruth spoke up.
‘It’s a soup kitchen, miss. For them as can’t afford to feed their bairns. We all put in what we can from our allotments and such, and try to cook a meal of sorts, so no one has to go without.’
‘I see.’ Miss Sheridan nodded, taking it all in. ‘Can I help out at all?’
Ruth heard Hannah’s muffled snort of derision behind her. ‘You, miss?’ she said.
‘Why not? I’ve got some spare time before I’m due back on my rounds. I can’t say I’ve had much experience of cooking, but I’m sure I could peel a few potatoes.’
Ruth looked at the young woman’s face, bright with hope, and her heart went out to her.
Then Edie Farnley spoke up. ‘I reckon we’ve got all the help we need, thank you.’
Ruth glanced at Hannah’s smirking expression, half hidden by her curtain of red hair. She was enjoying every moment of this.
Agnes Sheridan’s smile faltered. ‘Oh. Well, if you’re sure?’ She paused, then said, ‘I hope I’ll see some of you at my first baby clinic next Friday?’ A row of blank faces stared back at her. Ruth turned away back to her cooking, unable to look at the poor girl’s mortified face.
Why did she have to come? She must know she was not welcome, so why would she put herself in this position?
Because she cared, Ruth realised. Her desire to help meant she was willing to risk humiliation and rejection. It was what made her turn up on people’s doorsteps when they were sick, even though she knew they would probably turn her away.
Ruth felt a stab of shame and guilt that she had done exactly the same when Agnes Sheridan came to see little Ernest.
How she had begun to regret turning her away! The baby was getting no better, in spite of Hannah’s efforts. And Jinny spoke so highly of the nurse, too. What if Ruth had robbed her baby of his only chance to recover, just because she was afraid of Hannah Arkwright?
Finally, Agnes left. The moment the door closed behind her, the women fell to talking about her.
‘I didn’t know where to put myself when she walked in!’ Mrs Kettle said. ‘I wonder if she heard me talking about her?’
‘Don’t matter if she did,’ Hannah muttered. ‘It’s about time she realised where she’s not wanted.’
‘Did you hear her?’ Mrs Morris said. ‘“Can I help out, at all?”’ She mimicked Miss Sheridan’s cultured voice. ‘I don’t suppose those soft hands of hers have ever peeled a potato in her life!’
‘She was only trying to be helpful,’ Ruth murmured, ignoring the dark look Hannah shot in her direction
‘She’s been helpful, all right,’ Ida Willis said, still rifling through the envelope Miss Sheridan had handed her. ‘You ought to see how much she’s collected.’
‘Let’s have a look.’ Mrs Kettle put down her knife. She and the other women gathered round, apart from Hannah, who went on working. Only Ruth noticed the tautness of her jaw as she swung the cleaver downwards, smashing the bones.
Mrs Morris let out a low whistle. ‘There must be at least ten pounds here. That’ll keep the wolves from the door for a while.’
‘God bless her,’ Edie Farnley said. ‘Y’know, perhaps she in’t so bad after all.’
‘I told you she means well,’ Ruth said.
‘She in’t that bad, really,’ Susan Toller said. ‘My Laurie looks forward to her coming every morning to give him his injection. He used to scream the place down when the doctor did it.’
‘Aye,’ Edie Farnley agreed. ‘I must say, she really looked after my Jack. And she tried to get Dr Rutherford to give him extra sick leave.’
‘Didn’t manage it, though, did she?’ Hannah muttered.
‘Well, no.’
‘And don’t forget it were my ointment that made your husband’s hand better,’ Hannah reminded her sourly. ‘It were already on the mend before t’nurse stuck her nose in.’
Ruth saw Mrs Farnley’s face fall, and quickly joined in the conversation.
‘I happen to know she’s been visiting Eric Wardle, even though Dr Rutherford told her she shouldn’t treat any men or their families while they’re locked out.’
Ida Willis looked shocked. ‘Did he say that? I didn’t know.’
‘He did,’ Ruth said. Our Jinny reckons they’ve had some right old rows over it, too.’
‘You’ve got a lot to say for yourself, Ruth Chadwick,’ Hannah muttered. ‘I didn’t know t’nurse was such a good friend of yours?’
‘She in’t,’ Ruth defended herself. ‘But our Jinny reckons she’s a nice lass, once you get to know her. And she seems to care …’
‘You didn’t welcome her when she came to see your Ernest,’ she said in a low voice.
Ruth stared at her, shocked. ‘How did you –?’
‘You don’t think I know what goes on in this village?’ Hannah smirked. ‘You did the right thing, sending her away. I’m helping the bairn, not her.’
Ruth glanced around, anxious that the other women might have heard.
‘Don’t worry, they’ll not hear owt about it from me,’ Hannah said. ‘I know how to keep a secret. Not like our new nurse.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ruth frowned.
‘I mean she’s a trouble-maker.’ Hannah raised her voice, loud enough for the other women to hear. ‘And you’ve all been taken in by her.’
‘Oh, aye? And how do you work that out, then?’ Ida Willis wanted to know.
‘Well, look at you. She hands over a few pounds, and suddenly you’re acting as if she’s one of us. In’t anyone bothered to ask themselves why she’s set up this clinic of hers?’
Edie Farnley’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ruth said, it’s to see the bairns are looked after.’
‘Aye, and why do you think she wants to do that?’ Hannah’s dark gaze skimmed the room. ‘Because she don’t think you can look after ’em thysen, that’s why.’
The women looked at each other. ‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Mrs Farnley asked.
‘It means I have it on good authority that your precious Miss Sheridan has been talking to Miss Warren up at the school, saying what a terrible state the children are in.’
Ruth stared at Hannah, shocked by her words.
‘She never!’ Mrs Morris gasped in outrage.
‘She did,’ Hannah nodded. ‘She said they were all dirty and crawling with lice. Said she’d never seen bairns like it, not even in the slums of Leeds.’
‘The cheek of her!’ Edie Farnley looked shocked. ‘I’d better not hear her saying owt like that to me. My bairns might have holes in their boots and patches on their clothes, but no one can say I don’t send ’em to school clean.’
‘We do our best,’ Susan Toller agreed. ‘She should try being in our shoes, see what it’s like.’
‘She even had something to say about Seth Stanhope’s children,’ Hannah went on. ‘Came round to his cottage she did, shouting the odds about the way he looks after ’em. I tried to tell her my poor sister hadn’t been long dead, but she reckoned they’d be better off in an orphanage than being looked after by their father and me.’
‘No!’ Mrs Kettle looked scandalised. ‘Those poor bairns. Can you imagine anyone saying owt so cruel?’
‘It were heartbreaking,’ Hannah sniffed. ‘I mean, I know I in’t the children’s mother, but I’ve done my best …’
‘Of course you have, ducks. No one can say you in’t done your sister proud.’ Ida Willis patted Hannah’s broad shoulder.
‘Well, she needn’t think I’ll be going to her clinic!’ Mrs Farnley declared.
‘And I’ll be telling our Ellen not to go, neither,’ Mrs Kettle said. ‘I don’t care how much that Miss Sheridan puts in the welfare fund, she’ll never be able to buy her way in to Bowden!
’
‘No one’s going to take my bairns away from me, either!’ Susan Toller said.
Ruth glanced at Hannah, still dabbing away at her imaginary tears. Under her apron, she could see the other woman’s sly smile.
That smile troubled Ruth for the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t until all the children had been fed and the dishes washed up and cleared away that she finally plucked up the courage to speak to Hannah.
‘It wasn’t true, was it?’ she ventured, as she dried up the battered metal soup pan.
‘What’s that?’ Hannah had her back to her, putting a dish up on the top shelf that only she could reach.
‘What you said about Miss Sheridan. She hasn’t been complaining to Miss Warren about our children, has she? And she don’t want to take ’em away from us, neither.’ Hannah was silent, as if she hadn’t heard Ruth. ‘Why would you say such a thing, trying to cause trouble and setting everyone against her?’
‘Because she deserves it!’ Hannah swung round, so fiercely that Ruth flinched away. Her mouth was a tight line of anger. ‘She should never have come here. She doesn’t belong in Bowden!’
Ruth stared at her. Under all that blazing anger, she suddenly realised that Hannah was afraid.
She might come across to the world like a strong, powerful woman, but underneath it all Hannah Arkwright was still an awkward, lonely girl, desperate to find her place in the world.
And now Agnes Sheridan was threatening to come along and take it away from her. No wonder Hannah was afraid.
‘You don’t have to worry, you know,’ Ruth tried to reassure her. ‘We all think a lot of you.’
Hannah stiffened. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m saying surely there’s room for you and Miss Sheridan in Bowden.’ She saw Hannah’s dark eyes narrow, but paid no need to the warning sign. ‘I know you think you might be pushed out, but—’
‘Me? Pushed out?’ Hannah laughed harshly. ‘’I’m not thinking any such thing! And I’ll thank you to spare me your pity, Ruth Chadwick. It’ll be a sad day indeed when I need someone like you feeling sorry for me!’
Ruth stared at her, bewildered. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Look at you!’ Hannah looked her up and down, her mouth curling in contempt. ‘You’re a laughing stock, Ruth Chadwick, you and that useless husband of yours. Having all those bairns, one after the other, when you can barely afford to feed them all! You’re the one who should be pitied, not me! All those children going to school with their backsides hanging out of their trousers. And as for that baby of yours …’
Ruth gasped, and her body seemed to collapse in on itself as if Hannah had punched her in the stomach with one of those big fists of hers.
At the same moment, Hannah seemed to realise what she had said. She stopped suddenly.
‘Oh, Ruth, I didn’t mean it,’ she cried. ‘You riled me up, I was only lashing out.’ She reached for her, but Ruth shifted away, out of reach. ‘Ruth, please. You know what I’m like when I get in a temper. I’ve always been hot-headed, in’t I? But I didn’t mean it, honestly.’
She reached for her again. Ruth stared down at Hannah’s fingers, curled around her arm. She wanted to step away, to shake her off, but she was too numb with shock to move.
‘You know how much I dote on all your bairns, especially little Ernest,’ Hannah was saying, her voice girlish and lisping. ‘I’d do owt for that little lad. And I’m going to make him better for you, I promise.’ She smiled, fixing Ruth with her dark eyes. ‘Take no notice of me, ducks. We’re still friends, in’t we? You forgive me, don’t you?’
Ruth stared into Hannah’s face. Her smile was stretched, her eyes staring at Ruth, compelling her.
‘Yes.’ The words came out automatically, just as they always did when Hannah had been cruel to her. ‘Yes, I forgive you.’
But this time I won’t forget, Ruth added to herself silently.
Chapter Twenty-One
‘My dear, you can’t be serious?’
Carrie could feel James’ appalled gaze on her over the top of his newspaper, but she kept her eyes fixed on the piece of toast she was buttering.
‘Why not?’ she said.
‘I don’t know how you could even ask such a thing.’ He folded up his newspaper and put it down on the table beside him. ‘Surely you must realise how it would look? What if the Haverstocks were to find out you were helping out at a soup kitchen for the striking miners? What would they think?’
‘The soup kitchen is for the miners’ families,’ Carrie pointed out. ‘And besides, they’re not on strike. They’d be working if they hadn’t been locked out of the mine.’
‘They’ve been locked out because they won’t accept the new employment terms. What else are the Haverstocks supposed to do?’
‘To hell with the Haverstocks!’ Carrie threw down her knife with a clatter. ‘I’m sick and tired of hearing their name mentioned. Why should I care what they think?’
‘Because they pay my wages,’ James said.
‘You might be paid to do their bidding, but I’m not.’
Carrie saw her husband’s face darken and realised she had gone too far.
It wasn’t James’ fault, she knew that. But she was so desperately angry and upset by what was happening in the village, she needed to vent her frustration on someone.
She had heard stories from her mother and sisters of families going hungry, mothers pawning their belongings, selling everything they had to feed their children. Some of the men had managed to find casual work on the local farms, but others were having to leave Bowden and their families to look for work.
Carrie longed to do something. These were her friends and neighbours, the people she had grown up with. She couldn’t bear to sit in her big house and do nothing while they were struggling to survive.
‘I only want to help,’ she said.
‘I know,’ James sighed. ‘But the miners aren’t the only ones who need your help.’
Carrie felt a twinge of guilt as she watched him across the breakfast table. Poor James. The responsibility of trying to keep the mine open was beginning to show in the lines of strain around his eyes and mouth. He had lost weight, and the jacket of his suit seemed to hang from his shoulders.
He was right, she thought. He was her husband, and he deserved her support. He was the one she should be worried about.
‘James—’ She’d started to speak when they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
He looked up, frowning. ‘I wonder who that could be, calling at this hour?’
Carrie tensed, feeling her ribs tighten around her heart as she listened to the maid scuttling to answer the door. She was always afraid of an early or late knock on the door, fearing it might be one of her sisters coming to say their father had taken another turn for the worse.
The door opened and the maid appeared, and Carrie shot out of her seat. ‘Who is it?’ she said.
The maid sent her a level look, then turned to James. ‘Sergeant Cray to see you, sir,’ she said.
James laid down his newspaper. ‘Show him into the parlour,’ he instructed the girl.
He didn’t seem too surprised by this visit, Carrie thought as she followed him to the parlour.
Sergeant Cray was standing at the window, looking out. He was a big man, and his burly frame blocked out the June sunshine. He turned when James and Carrie came into the room.
‘Good morning, Mr Shepherd. Mrs Shepherd.’ He gave Carrie a brief nod. In spite of her nerves, she couldn’t help smiling. When she was a child and Sergeant Cray was a fresh-faced young constable, he had often chased her and her friends for scrumping apples from the Haverstocks’ orchard, and playing ‘knock down ginger’ on the neighbours’ doors.
And now look at them both. She could tell from the policeman’s frowning expression that the same thought was going through his mind.
‘Good morning, Sergeant Cray,’ James said. ‘You have some news for me?’
The sergeant nodded. ‘I thought you’d want to know, sir. We arrested two men last night.’
‘Arrested?’ Carrie interrupted in dismay. ‘Who’s been arrested?’
James said nothing. Sergeant Cray cleared his throat. ‘Mr Shepherd informed us there has been a spate of thefts from the pit yard,’ he said. ‘Men breaking in at night, stealing coal. But I reckon it should stop, now two of them are behind bars.’
His smug little smile made Carrie itch to slap him. ‘What are their names?’ she asked.
‘Does it matter?’ James said.
‘It does to me,’ Carrie said firmly. She turned to Sergeant Cray. ‘Who are these men?’
The policeman looked uneasily at James, then back at Carrie. ‘Johnny Horsfall and Matthew Toller,’ he said.
‘But Mr Horsfall’s old mother is bedridden. He’s all she’s got. She needs him!’
Sergeant Cray’s broad face flushed. ‘He should have thought about that before he went stealing, shouldn’t he?’
‘Thank you for coming to let me know, Sergeant,’ James said quietly.
‘Aye, well, I’ll be on my way,’ Sergeant Cray said. ‘Those men will be up before the magistrate this morning. And a good thing too,’ he added, with a sideways glance at Carrie.
She waited until the maid had shown him out, then turned to James.
‘You have to do something,’ she said.
‘What do you suggest?’
‘I don’t know!’ Carrie shrugged helplessly. ‘But they don’t deserve to go to prison. You know them. They work at Bowden Main. They’re hard-working, trustworthy men.’
‘You heard the sergeant. They were caught stealing.’
‘Yes, but they wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t been driven to it!’ Carrie seized James’ hand. ‘You must go to court, plead for them.’
He stared at her. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘Why not? I’m sure if you spoke up for them, the judge wouldn’t lock them up. Please, James? Those men shouldn’t go to prison for what they did. You know that as well as I do.’
James looked down at her hand in his for a moment, then slowly withdrew from her grasp. ‘The law must take its course,’ he said stiffly.
District Nurse on Call Page 16