An Unsuitable Mother

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘Thank you. It’s amazing what you can do with some old boot leather and an Oxo.’

  Joe smiled to himself, then looked thoughtful, and called out again. ‘Getting back to the subject of vintage … I don’t suppose you fancy going out for a ducky later, do you?’

  She paused in doling out the casserole. ‘Who’ll look after Nina?’

  ‘Our Beat’ll be in by then,’ Joe called back. ‘I’ve already asked her, she doesn’t mind.’

  ‘Well, if it’s all right with her, then why not?’ Nell sounded cheerful. ‘Now, is that table all ready, Neen? Then we’ll eat!’

  Even after his hunger had been slaked, Joe continued to gorge on the casserole, for the years of near famine had conditioned him into snaffling every morsel. ‘Eh, look at me, fond brussen!’ Projecting satiety, he patted his belly.

  ‘What’s that mean?’ enquired his daughter.

  ‘It means I’m as full as a butcher’s dog – thanks, Aunty Nell, that were lush.’ Joe rose and, instructing his daughter to do likewise, carried his empty plate to the kitchen – though Nell was the one who rolled up her sleeves to wash them.

  ‘Eh, has somebody been knocking you about?’ Joe was instantly alert, and came up to frown at the circular bruises that disfigured both her arms.

  Baffled at first, she looked down at herself, then laughed, and continued washing the pots. ‘Only the iron lung. It has these rubber collars for one to stick one’s hands through in order to tend the patient. Naturally they have to be very tight for the machine to work effectively.’

  Joe relaxed with a slight sound of relief. ‘Our Beat must get them too, though I’ve never noticed.’

  ‘It’s an occupational hazard, I’m afraid,’ smiled Nell, ‘along with many other things I won’t mention.’

  ‘What’s an iron lung?’ asked Nina, who had now resumed her French knitting.

  Nell gave an honest description as she raced through the small amount of washing-up.

  Then she said, ‘Right, that’s my bit done! Why don’t we get you into your nightdress, Neen – no, don’t worry, you don’t have to go to sleep yet! I just meant that if you’re all ready for bed, I could read you a few stories before I have to go – that’s if your daddy doesn’t want to read for you?’ She spun towards Joe with an apology. ‘Sorry, I’m forgetting my place again!’

  ‘Nay, be my guest,’ invited Joe, going to switch on the television. ‘Better use the lavvy before you get your clothes off, though.’

  Nell helped the little one into her coat in order to brave the cold dark yard, and left the kitchen door ajar to allow a stream of light to aid her passage.

  Nina soon returned. ‘I meant to ask the other day, Dad, what does Government Property mean?’ And she presented a shiny square of toilet paper upon which this damning phrase was stamped.

  ‘You little snitch!’ Joe gave an embarrassed laugh and explained to Nell, ‘I have friends in high places.’

  But she could not have cared less about such pilfering, her smiling eyes intent on the little girl as she rinsed a flannel in the sink and wiped it quickly around Nina’s face, neck and hands. Then they all went to sit round the hearth.

  ‘Fancy a ciggy?’ Joe was in the act of lighting one for himself.

  ‘Thank – oh, you’ve only two left.’ Nell withdrew her hand upon observing the extended packet.

  ‘Our Neen’s given up.’ Winking through the smoke, he pressed her to take one, holding his lighter carefully as she bent her head over it.

  ‘Can I have the cat, Dad?’

  ‘Aye, go on.’ Joe exhaled a chestful of smoke at the same time as Nell. ‘But get your nightie on while I cut it out for you.’

  ‘I’ll do it, you watch your telly.’ Setting her lighted cigarette in an ashtray, Nell reached for some nail scissors off the mantel, and proceeded to trim around the outline of the black cat, and to detach it from the red background, half-listening to the programme as she did so. The little cut-out was handed to Nina when she was down to her liberty bodice.

  Having helped the skinny little figure into her nightdress and brushed her hair, Nell then sat back with the child on her lap, smoking contentedly and going on to spend a lovely hour reading stories.

  Nina would have let her read all night, and Nell would probably have complied, had not Joe announced at the end of the current story, ‘Right, bed!’ And the two girls were forced to relinquish their happy interlude with a goodnight kiss.

  When Beata came home an hour or so later, Nell went to fetch what was left of the casserole, then, after spending a few moments chatting with her, she and Joe went along to the Tam O’ Shanter, which was only a couple of doors away.

  Along with the drinks came light-hearted conversation. ‘You know, I’d never have believed you were so ancient if you hadn’t told me,’ joked Nell, sipping the stout he had just placed before her.

  ‘I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.’ Joe took a smiling gulp of his own pint, before asking, ‘What vintage are you then?’ Though he had already been supplied this information by his sister.

  ‘Nineteen twenty-two,’ said Nell.

  ‘And you don’t mind being seen out with such a crock?’ His eyes twinkled at her over the rim of his glass.

  ‘You’re a very handsome companion.’ Out of kindness Nell exaggerated, though he was nice-looking.

  ‘Even with this grey hair?’

  ‘It’s not grey! It’s a very distinguished silver.’

  He looked pleased at being so described. Until Nell went on to point out:

  ‘You’ve got a dew-drop ready to fall into your pint.’

  With a quick laugh, he pulled out his handkerchief and brushed the droplet away. ‘That’s what I like, a woman who says what she sees.’

  ‘You’d have to, with Nina for a daughter. She doesn’t pull her punches, does she?’

  Smiling back at her, Joe shook his head. ‘I don’t know – what must you think of us, having knocked-off lavatory paper!’

  ‘Ah well, hard times require desperate measures. Where do you think I get my supply of cotton wool from?’ There came another shared laugh at the little girl’s comic faux pas.

  ‘She’s great company,’ effused Nell. ‘I love her. I really do.’

  ‘Don’t we all,’ came Joe’s warm agreement, and he took another deep pull of his pint, imbibing almost half of it at once, before lowering the glass back to the table and gazing down into the froth for a while. ‘And she does have some bright ideas.’ He did not enlarge for the moment, but spent a while in deep thought before eventually saying, ‘Would you ever consider marrying someone fifteen years older than yourself?’

  Astonished, Nell’s glass of stout paused in mid-air as she was about to take a drink. Only after a few false starts did she eventually manage to stutter, ‘Well, that was a bit of a surprise! I don’t know what to – are you saying – I mean, I like your company very much, but –’

  ‘No, no,’ course you wouldn’t!’ Joe shook his head rapidly, as if to decry his own foolishness in proposing. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking of even mentioning it – me, who played hell when our Gus wanted to marry Mick, going on about him being too decrepit for her and whatnot, how bloody arrogant is that? Sorry –’

  Infected by his embarrassment, yet touched too, Nell rushed to placate him. ‘It’s just, you know, I don’t think I’ll ever feel the same about anyone after losing Bill …’ Even after so long his shadow still accompanied her.

  ‘I feel the same way about Grette,’ Joe hurried to agree. ‘I still miss her as if it were only yesterday she died.’ He paused a moment, as if on the edge. ‘What really made me blurt it out was that, well, I’ve watched you with our Nina. I can see how much you like her – I’m not saying I only want a mother for her, I’m thinking of meself as well.’ Looking at him more carefully now, at his eyes that roamed about her as he spoke, a stunned Nell bewailed her own stupidity in mistaking his interest for brotherly love. It was all too obvio
us the physical attraction he felt, as he added, ‘I really enjoy our times together. I even find meself thinking about you after you’ve gone home, wondering what you’re doing and that. You’re a lovely lass to have around.’ Unconsciously he picked up a spare beer mat, and tapped the edge of it against the table. ‘I’d like you to be there all the time …’

  Nell’s eyes were now on the blue coal scars on his hands, a relic of his mining days, as she sought a fitting response. ‘I think about you as well,’ she said, careful not to hurt him. ‘In the same way I think of your sister, as a good friend who makes me laugh, and who I know I can rely on.’

  Joe looked slightly deflated, but gave a shrug and continued to press suit. ‘That’s a decent enough basis for a partnership. I wouldn’t expect mad passion –’

  ‘Oh Joe.’ Nell leaned forward to prevent this getting out of hand. ‘I really enjoy being with you and Nina, but with the job I have, I couldn’t be a proper mother or a proper wife –’

  ‘I wouldn’t ask you to give it up, I know it’s a vocation, like it is for our Beat –’ Seeing the anguish on her face, he quickly changed tack, at once detached, yet friendly and blasé. ‘Anyway, I can see I’ve put you in an awkward position, so you don’t have to say any more! I just thought I’d let you know how it is with me – I hope I haven’t put the kibosh on things between us? Neen’d kill me if my blunder drove you away. Can we just go on as we were?’

  ‘Of course!’ Nell smiled and laid a comforting hand on his arm, then quickly withdrew it.

  ‘Right, will you have another drink?’ Cheerful again, he lifted his glass suddenly and tilted his head back to drain it, and, as the froth ran slowly back down the sides, added, ‘Sorry for being daft.’

  ‘You’re not daft! I’m very flattered, and if things were different …’ Her voice trailed away, for she had no wish to lead him on. The only passion involved in this relationship was that between herself and Nina. But how could one say to a man, ‘I absolutely adore your daughter’ then tell him, ‘You’re okay too, I suppose’? It wouldn’t be fair. Besides, there was the question of disloyalty. She had sworn she would never marry. All right, it was thirteen and a half years since dear Bill, and she knew he had not been the type to hold her to this for the rest of her life, but she could not help feeling it would slur his memory … Still, it was very flattering to be asked, and very tempting, in the sense that it would mean she could be with Nina all the time.

  Her head was still fizzing with the surprise of it all, as Joe ambled off to the bar.

  * * *

  A vocation, Joe had said, and yes, Nell supposed, after a somewhat inauspicious start, it had accidentally become such over the years. In spite of that, he had given her cause to think about what was more important to her, during the hours that followed. And even days later, she was still mulling over his proposal in her mind – though only because of the fact that it would bring legitimate access to her surrogate child.

  This being so, it was not something she felt able to discuss with Beata. For what would she think to her brother being so used? And anyway, Nell was soon to put it out of her head in favour of her patients. Having spoken to Matron about the matter, she was no longer working permanent nights, but alternating them with day shifts. Her old adversary, Sister Pike, had greeted this with one of her sarcasms, of course, and said what an honour it would be to have Nurse Spottiswood working alongside her again. But other than this, Pike had not been able to cause much unpleasantness so far, for she had gone on leave.

  In her absence, Nell was making the most of things in the place she loved best: the children’s section. How wonderful it was to see them cured of a deadly disease, knowing you had been part of that. Of course, this must be balanced with deep sadness too: the sight of parents attempting to be brave as they peered through the window for a glimpse of the child who was beyond help. Nell felt dreadful at not being able to ease their grief, but she always reminded herself that it was their grief, not hers, and she must not be so egotistical as to steal it. At such times she would cope by lowering a portcullis on her emotions, and though this might not prevent her howling with sorrow upon reaching home, she could draw solace from the majority who recovered, the letters of gratitude from indebted parents, or from patients themselves, expressing thanks to dear Spotty for making them feel as if they were the only one she had had to care for.

  Thankfully, there was no death on the wards today, and Nell was cheerful as she prepared a five-year-old boy to be reunited with his parents in the grounds, having to disinfect him and his essential belongings before he could be discharged. ‘No, I’m sorry, darling, you can’t take that with you!’ He was trying to hide a toy that had become a favourite during the time he had been in with scarlet fever, and Nell was tender in removing it from him. ‘You’ll have to leave it for the poorly boys and girls.’ Whilst most were content to accept this rule, this one began to kick up a fuss. ‘Well,’ declared his nurse in blithe manner, ‘if I let you keep it, then you’d have to live here with me all the time – and I’d love a little boy to keep.’ And this, of course, did the trick.

  And upon being given back to his parents, he gladly forgot all about the toy, and about the nurse who waved him off, who watched him skip away before turning back to the wards to succour another in distress.

  The rest of that day turned out to be equally satisfying, as Nell tended her charges in the airy pavilions. Yet, at the end of it she must bring her mind back to the question raised by Joe. She had promised that it would make no difference, that they could still be friends. But now she felt awkward at the thought of seeing him again, and if she could have avoided him she would. But she had arranged to pick Nina up from school again on her day off, and so there was no choice.

  Their first meeting since the proposal turned out to be as awkward as she had feared, though both of them attempted to hide it, Nell trying not to display inhibition when her little playmate’s father came home to interrupt their game, Joe being as friendly and jocular as usual as he consumed the tea Nell had made for them all. Yet once Nina was put to bed, she seemed eager not to hang around.

  ‘I won’t bite you, you know.’ Joe threw her a casual laugh from his easy chair. ‘Sit down and watch a bit of telly till Beata comes in.’

  ‘I really oughtn’t …’ began Nell.

  ‘I’ve not suddenly changed into Jack the Ripper. I thought you said we could still be friends?’

  And of course, she had said that, and so she must sit down and smile, and chat, and act as if nothing had changed.

  But things had changed for others. ‘Old Mick’s died,’ Joe suddenly announced, between programmes.

  Nell gave instant condolence, her velvety eyes on his face. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry – when?’

  ‘Yesterday. Didn’t quite manage to reach eighty.’

  ‘Poor Gus …’

  ‘Aye, she’s broken-hearted,’ sighed Joe, reaching for his cigarettes and offering one to Nell, then lighting it for her. ‘I feel really guilty after the way I went on at her when she first married him, pointing out how much older he was – as if she didn’t already know – saying she just wanted to look after his kids. She really loved him, you know.’

  ‘I know.’ Nell’s voice was soft, her heart fluttering as she guessed where this was leading.

  And it was a great relief to her when Beata came in.

  14

  Nell was not to see Joe for a while after that, for after her few days off she was once again on nights. As usual, she arrived early for her shift, this allowing her to a spend little time chatting with the occupants of the iron lungs, and thus hopefully ease their miserable existence.

  To her dismay, Sister Pike was back from her leave and had been in command that day, but at least, Nell thought, would be going home soon. Praying for this to come quickly, Nell gathered with other oncoming night staff as the sister went over each patient’s notes. There was only one new arrival: a six-year-old boy with polio. After the handover, Ne
ll was quick to remove herself from Pike’s company, and went to make her acquaintance with the small patient. All gowned up again, she entered his cubicle to find him steeped in misery, and spoke kindly to allay his fears.

  ‘Hello, old chap …’ She smiled into the wan face with its thick mop of dark hair. ‘My name’s Spotty. I haven’t come to hurt you. See, I’ve brought my friend with me – his name’s Fred.’ She had concealed a miniature teddy bear under her arm, and now made him peep out as if acting independently, bobbing quickly out of sight when he saw the boy, then gingerly peeping over her arm again. There was the flicker of a smile, but the patient’s face soon crumpled in nausea.

  Nell quickly put aside the teddy in favour of a bowl, into which the boy suddenly vomited. Issuing reassurance, she remained calmly at his side whilst he retched. ‘That’s right, you just get rid of it, dear, and we’ll soon have you better.’ And she stroked his thick fringe away from his brow as he continued to heave over the bowl, though his reflex was to veer away. ‘Sorry, old chap, is it your headache? Well, we’ll do something about that too, don’t you worry.’

  Even with his stomach relieved of its discomfort, the boy was quite irritable and, atypically, did not appreciate his nurse’s attempts to lower his fever with an icy sponge, but jerked his limbs about all over the place and kicked her. As she continued to nurse him according to his illness, Nell gradually became suspicious. She had been tending polio victims for some years now, and even though the diagnosis complied with his symptoms of severe headache and vomiting, there was something about his intermittent grizzling and peculiar behaviour that made her have qualms.

  Remembering the last occasion she had questioned her superior, she deemed it best to keep her own counsel for a while, at least until Sister Pike had gone home. But she resolved to watch him closely, and the more she watched, the more concerned she became.

  Eventually, there seemed no choice but to go and offer her opinion to the night sister, and to ask her to come and check that this really was polio, for, ‘He certainly isn’t acting as if he has it, he’s playing me up for all he’s worth.’