Connie’s Courage

by Groves, Annie

  ‘Still, if you ask me, it serves her right. Ted allus did say she was one as would come to a bad end, and to tell the truth, it isn’t as though she hasn’t got what she deserved, messing around like that. I mean what respectable woman ends up in her state, carrin and no husband! Josie demanded indignantly. ‘I don’t have anything to do with her any more, she added virtuously. ‘After all, I don’t want to get tarred with the same brush as her, I’m a respectable widow!

  Connie’s heart sank a little further with every word Josie said.

  ‘Anyway, what about you, Connie?’ Josie pressed sympathetically. You’re a widow too. Was your husband …?’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it, if you don’t mind, Josie,’ Connie stopped her quickly.

  Aye, I know how you feel. Hated talking about my Ted I did, at first.’

  I hardly knew John, really,’ Connie told her in a low voice. He was a soldier … and … and not from round here.’

  There, Connie, don’t you go upsetting yourself,’ Josie sympathised, making Connie feel even more guilty. But she had Lyddy to think of, she reminded herself, as she acknowledged how right Gideon and Ellie had been to want to protect her, even if something in her balked at having to lie.

  ‘Do you ever hear anything of anyone else?’ Connie asked her.

  Anyone else. Like who?’

  Well … Mavis, for instance.’

  Josie’s face broke into an immediate smile.

  ‘Oh yes. She writes to me, regular like. It was through her that I ‘eard that you’d left the hospital because she wrote and asked me if I knew where you were. Said as how she’d had some of her letters sent back to her.’

  Connie bit her lip.

  ‘I should have written, but what with … everything.’

  Aye, well, Mavis ‘ull understand. Allus was an understanding one was Mavis. So you won’t have ‘eard their good news then, I suppose?’

  ‘I knew that Rosa was to have a baby,’ Connie admitted cautiously.

  ‘Oh that, yes, a fine boy she’s had, but Mavis and them haven’t so much as seen ‘im, on account of how Rosa has gone living with some cousin or other. But that’ll change once this ruddy War is over and their Arry comes back.

  The stairs moved sickeningly beneath her feet, and for a moment Connie thought she might actually faint.

  ‘Harry? But he’s dead?’ she protested shakily.

  ‘Aye well, they thought ‘e was, but seemingly it were all a mistake and he’s a prisoner of war! Harry wrote to the War Office about the mix up and they checked up on everything, and Mavis and them were allowed to send a letter to Arry … Mavis says that she’d rather he was imprisoned than still having to fight, and I can’t say as I blame her!

  ‘And then, as if that weren’t enough good luck, that old aunt of theirs went and died, and they found out that she’d left them the house and a fair bit o’ money as well! Ere is that the time? Sister will have me guts for garters, if I don’t get a move on, Josie announced. ‘How about the two of us meeting up for a proper chat over a cup o’ tea next time we re both off. You can bring your little un, if you like. Her face softened. ‘Right fond of kiddies, I am. Pity that me and Ted never had any. She gave a small sigh.

  Connie was incapable of making any kind of rational response. Her heart was thumping and she felt sick with shock and pain.

  Harry was alive. Harry wasn’t dead. Harry was alive and once this War was over he would be coming home to his wife and his son, and the three of them would live happily ever after, whilst she …

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes like raw acid. Thank God. Thank God, Harry would never know the extent of her shame! She couldn’t bear to think of him knowing that she was not married and the mother of a child, because she knew what he would think …

  Harry was alive. Pain and joy filled her in equal measure. Harry was alive, but a part of her wished that she were dead.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  ‘Connie, it is so lovely having you here with us, and little Lyddy too.

  Ellie smiled fondly at where Lydia was sitting happily in the late August sunshine, whilst the adults enjoyed the picnic they had brought to the lakeside with them.

  ‘When Gideon first bought the house here I thought it was an extravagance, but I admit I do love the Lake District,’ Ellie told Connie happily, before adding, ‘but what I love even more is having us all together. I am so pleased that both you and John were able to be here at the same time.

  ‘Well I’ve only got two days off, Connie reminded her tiredly.

  Ellie frowned a little as she looked at her. ‘I know how much you wanted to go back to nursing, Connie, but I have to say that it doesn’t seem to be doing you much good. You look so thin and you’ve barely smiled or laughed the whole time you’ve been here. Is everything all right?

  Yes, of course,’ Connie answered her, but she knew that she was lying.

  Something had happened to her with the birth of Lydia, something she had not bargained for – a combination of a deep need to be with her child, and an equally deep weariness of damaged young bodies and death. Sometimes it seemed no matter how hard they worked, there was so little they could do.

  And then of course there were her agonising, aching dreams of Harry and the unending pain of loving him.

  Tell me more about your landlady and her brother,’ Ellie demanded.

  Connie had given Ellie a brief description of Nora and Jinx, telling her about how much they both adored and spoiled Lyddy but omitting to mention the fact that Jinx, or rather Davie, had been beaten up twice whilst she had been living with them, and that Nora was in constant fear for her brother.

  Perhaps I should just give in and sell this house to Derek Walton,’ she had told Connie wearily one evening, when they were sitting together drinking tea, whilst Lyddy slept peacefully in Nora’s arms. In Nora, Connie had found the perfect person to care for Lyddy whilst she was at work, and Nora had refused to take so much as a penny for watching over the baby, saying that she ought to be the one paying Connie for the pleasure it gave her to have Lydia’s company.

  ‘He’s an evil man. Him and that partner of his, they both are.

  ‘Perhaps you should sell and move somewhere else, Connie had suggested more than once.

  ‘I’ve got Davie to think of. And I’m afraid that no one would sell to me once they knew about him. He doesn’t mean any harm Connie, you know that, but folks just don’t understand.

  Now though it seemed Nora was being forced to change her mind.

  ‘Connie, I’ve been thinking, Ellie broke into her thoughts. ‘I know it will be hard for you, but why don’t you leave Lyddy with us instead of taking her back to Liverpool with you? Gideon has decided that I’m to stay up here with the boys, instead of going back to Preston at the end of the month as we’d intended, because of the way this influenza is spreading. There are thousands dead of it already abroad, apparently, she told Connie anxiously.

  ‘We have been warned to take every precaution against it that we can, Connie admitted soberly. ‘As yet we haven’t had any patients affected by it.

  ‘Oh, this wretched War! I wish so that it would be over! Gideon says that even in the Government now there are those who are insisting that something be done to bring it to a close, and that too many lives have already been lost. And now what with more food rationing on top of everything else.’

  Connie you’re back. I have missed you so much. But where is Lydia?’

  ‘I left her up in the Lakes with my sister,’ Connie answered Nora as the other woman welcomed her in. ‘Ellie is worried about this influenza and begged me not to risk Lyddy’s health by bringing her back to Liverpool, especially with me working at the hospital.’

  ‘Oh I shall miss her so much!’ So shall I.’ Connie gave her a rueful look. I miss her already and it hasn’t been a full day yet since I left her.’

  It had almost broken her heart to say goodbye to her baby. But this time, unlike when she first came back to Live
rpool, she knew she had to leave her behind, for Lyddy’s own good. Gideon had alarmed her with his grim certainty that the influenza deaths being inflicted on other countries would also be inflicted on their own. He had already put in place stringent measures to prevent it infecting his own household.

  If he should be proved right, Connie knew that Lydia would be far safer with Ellie in the fresh air of the countryside than in the close confines of Liverpool. Even so, she thought constantly of her little girl who had celebrated her first birthday earlier in the month with Ellie throwing a very grand party for her. She remembered how Lyddy had sat to have her photograph taken by her Uncle John wearing the beautiful silk and lace dress her Aunt Ellie had sewn for her.

  ‘Oh, Connie she is such a beauty, Ellie had whispered emotionally. ‘Every time I see her she is even prettier. She is so like our mother.’ Silently they had looked at one another, and then Ellie had squeezed Connie’s hand reassuringly, ‘She’s all Barclay, with just the right amount of Pride common sense, Connie, and nothing else!’

  By the end of September, Gideon’s prediction had proved alarmingly correct, and the so-called ‘Spanish’ flu was sweeping the country.

  ‘Have you heard the latest? one of the nurses an exhausted Connie bumped into in the dining room on her way for her breakfast before she went on duty, asked her, continuing without waiting for Connie to reply, ‘a friend of mine works at the Walton and they’ve had twenty-five nurses go down with the flu already.’

  Connie said nothing. She had already heard privately from one of the other Sisters, the even more shocking news that seven nurses and one Sister had died from the pneumonia that was accompanying the influenza. The Liverpool hospital authorities were afraid that such news would panic people and affect the morale of the whole of the city’s nursing staff.

  She ate her breakfast as quickly as she could, and hurried onto her own ward, ‘Sister Pride, Matron wants to have a word with you.

  No matter how many years she spent nursing, she would always feel this little quiver of anxiety whenever she was sent for by Matron, Connie acknowledged ruefully, as she hurried in obedience to her summons. It was a reflection, perhaps, on the number of times she had been summoned before her for misdemeanours during her early training. She was commanded to enter Matron’s office the moment she knocked on the door, Ah, Sister Smith good!’

  Although officially she was now Sister Smith, virtually everyone still referred to her as Sister Pride, much to Connie’s relief, and it took her aback slightly to hear her unfamiliar surname.

  ‘You may have heard about the sad deaths of our colleagues at Walton Hospital,’ Matron began, waiting whilst Connie inclined her head in acknowledgement. Walton’s Matron has sent me a message asking if I have any senior nurses, or even better a trained Sister, I can spare to take over two of their maternity wards. I am loathe to part with any of my nurses, especially those most senior, but Walton’s Matron, Mrs Roberts, tells me that they have had more admissions than they can possibly hope to cope with, and having already lost a Sister … Mrs Roberts herself has had the influenza but thankfully is now recovering. The choice must be your own of course …’

  Wryly Connie listened, knowing that the reality was that the choice had already been made for her.

  When am I to report to the Maternity Hospital, ma’am?’ she asked calmly.

  ‘You may go immediately, Nurse. Or should I say, Sister, Matron smiled approvingly.

  There was no time for Connie to tell anyone where she was going, and when she reached the Maternity Hospital she was despatched immediately to make herself known to Mrs Roberts, the Matron, who greeted her with evident relief.

  ‘One thing I am insisting on all my nurses doing, Sister, and that is making sure they take care of their own health – that means eating regular meals, whether one wants them or not! I have given our cooks instructions that soups, broths, fruit juices and whole fruit are to be made available to my nurses at all times! A nurse who does not take proper care of her own health is doing our patients as great a disservice as she is herself. I understand from the Matron at the Infirmary that you have an excellent nursing record.

  ‘I’ve worked most frequently on surgical wards, Connie felt bound to explain.

  Matron’s mouth compressed.

  ‘As you will discover, I am afraid that our maternity wards have been turned into a form of surgical ward by this dreadful influenza.’ She gave a faint sigh. ‘We have mothers coming in who simply do not have the strength to fight this affliction, and dying virtually as they give birth. Naturally we are making every effort to save their child, even when that means … She broke off and gave Connie a bleak look. ‘I understand you are a mother yourself, Sister?

  Silently Connie nodded her head.

  Then I am sure you will understand how much it means to a mother, even in the throes of death, to know that her child is saved.’

  Connie’s stomach had started to knot, but she still nodded in agreement.

  ‘The maternity wards?’ a nurse commented to Connie, when she had asked Connie where she was to be working. Gawd, I pity yer. It’s Bedlam up there, babies howling and screeching as the surgeons tek ‘em from their dying mas. Poor motherless little sods, and who’s to look after ‘em heaven alone knows, cos mostly their das are at the Front.’

  Connie had thought that nothing could be worse than what she had seen already, even if the rows and rows of tightly-packed beds filled with dying patients brought in by their families bleakened the heart and the soul; but she had been wrong, she admitted, several hours after she had first walked into the maternity ward.

  Here indeed was a form of hell on earth that affected her emotions; tore at her heart as nothing else ever had or could.

  Women, their bellies huge with their unborn children, lay dying – or dead – whilst surgeons worked to remove the living children from their bodies.

  One young woman in the corner of the ward screamed to Connie to help her, but when Connie would have gone over to her, the surgeon shook his head and told Connie tersely, Leave her,’ explaining grimly. She was brought in three days ago –

  she’s nowhere near full term. We can’t save her or her child.’

  The newborn babies were taken screaming to the nursery for fear of them being infected, and none of the nurses from the maternity ward were allowed to accompany them. They had to pass the babies over to a masked nurse who bathed them and then passed them into the nursery itself.

  Connie had come on duty at ten in the morning. At midnight she was still working, having stopped only to drink some broth as ordered by Matron and eat some fresh fruit.

  As fast as one woman was delivered and her body removed to the makeshift morgue that had been set up to try to accommodate the growing number of bodies, another one arrived to take her place. Some poor souls were literally abandoned by their families at the door of the hospital itself, including women whose pregnancies had barely even begun.

  Connie couldn’t help but pity these poor souls; already infected they had been brought here in reality to die, and their child with them.

  You will tell them to have me babby christened, won’t yer?’ one terrified woman begged Connie, her eyes bright with fear in her sunken face. Don’t let the poor little bugger be buried unshriven.’

  ‘She can’t be any more than four months, the doctor Connie had summoned to look at her, told Connie. ‘She’s hardly showing at all.

  ‘The mother swears she’s gone seven, she’s been starving herself thinking it would stop her getting the flu.’

  The doctor shook his head. ‘I ve got forty women here close to term. I can’t afford to waste time operating on one who it’s obvious I can’t deliver a living child from.

  ‘How would you feel if she was your wife, and that your child? Connie demanded furiously.

  He was only a young man although he looked grey and old.

  ‘My wife died last week,’ he told her emotionlessly. ‘And our son died with he
r. He was just over a year old.

  Virtually the same age as Lyddy!

  Thank God she had agreed to leave her daughter with Ellie! Gideon had banned anyone from visiting the lakeside house, and Connie had at his request given him over the telephone, instructions on how to keep everywhere disinfected.

  In between doing what she could for her patients, she prayed that her family wouldn’t contract the virus, and most of all that her precious Lyddy would be safe!

  The child she had not wanted had become more precious to her than she could ever have imagined.

  It was just over a week since Connie had first started working at the Maternity Hospital. Carpenters had had to be hired in order to cope with the demand for coffins, and Connie knew that the sound of newborn babies crying for their dead mothers would haunt her for the rest of her life.

  Part of the problem was that terrified families were bringing their sick into the hospital at the height of their infection, when movement or disturbance of any kind was very bad for them, and Walton hospital itself contained row after row of beds of dying patients.

  ‘We can’t take in any new patients, one of the maternity ward doctors told Connie as she came on duty. ‘The wards and the corridors are already full of dying women, and we had another five brought in last night. Four of them will die before they can deliver, he added bleakly.

  ‘And the fifth?’ Connie pressed.

  ‘Dead already, he told her curtly.

  Adjusting her mask, Connie started to move down the ward, pity and anger wrenching at her heart. These women were so weak that even if they could survive the illness, they simply did not have the strength to endure labour.

  ‘Connie … Connie … Is that you?

  Quickly she turned to look toward the woman calling her name, ‘Vera!