by Annie Groves
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
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London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018
Copyright © Annie Groves 2018
Cover design by Holly Macdonald©HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018
Cover photograph©Jonathan Ring (models); Trevillion Images (background)
Annie Groves asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN: 9780008272210
Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008272227
Version: 2018-05-09
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Keep Reading …
About Annie Groves
Also by Annie Groves
About the Publisher
Dedication
Many thanks to the redoubtable Teresa Chris, and for the invaluable encouragement and support from editor Kate Bradley and copy editor Pen Isaac. Also to the staff of the Queen’s Nursing Institute, especially Matthew Bradby and Christine Widdowson.
CHAPTER ONE
June 1939
‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ asked Edith, putting her hand to her head as the early summer breeze threatened to blow her nurse’s hat into the dusty road. ‘Wasn’t it meant to be five minutes from the bus stop? I bet we’ve walked for longer than that. My feet are killing me.’
Alice checked the piece of paper again. ‘I can’t see where we could have gone wrong. Anyway, Edie, we haven’t been walking for more than a few minutes. Don’t take on so.’ She looked down at her colleague with good humour – Edith barely reached her shoulder. ‘Let’s go to the next corner and see if we can spot it from there. If we see anyone we can ask.’
Edith grimaced but, left with little choice, gamely picked up her case once more and followed Alice, whose longer stride meant she was always slightly ahead. In her other hand she carried her precious nurse’s bag. The rows of terraced houses they passed all looked the same, three storeys high if you counted the big basements, with bay windows and steep stone steps, but narrow-fronted, built to fit a lot of people into a small space. They didn’t have much in the way of front gardens, just an area where you could leave dustbins or reach the basement door. Still, Edith told herself, it wasn’t as grim as the street she had grown up in, on the other side of the river in south London. This was bright in comparison. It wouldn’t be too bad at all.
Alice came to a sudden halt and Edith nearly smacked into her. The taller young woman pointed at a street sign. ‘There we are. Victory Walk.’
Edith looked up, pushing one of her stray dark curls out of her eyes. Try as she might they would never do as she wanted, and she’d been in trouble with her previous matron because of that – and for numerous other reasons as well. ‘So it is. Victory Walk. Suppose it was named after we won the Great War, though I bet the houses were built ages before that. Are we at this end?’
Alice looked at the houses on the corners. ‘No, I don’t think so. They said it was a bigger house and we’d know it straight away. Must be further along.’
Edith groaned as her shoulder protested at the weight of her case.
Alice smiled in sympathy. ‘Buck up, Edie. Not far now.’
‘Easy for you to say, with your long legs,’ Edith grumbled, but picked up her case once more. ‘I’m sure it’s further than five minutes …’
‘It won’t be. Not when we aren’t carrying these great lumbering things,’ Alice pointed out. ‘We’ll be on and off those buses in a jiffy. You can get to the West End as quickly as you like on your days off.’ She paused as they got to the other end of the short road. ‘Here we are. They were right, there’s no mistaking it.’
Both young women set down their cases and nurses’ bags and stood to take in the first sight of what would be their new home, and also the base for their work. It was in the style of the rest of the street but felt grander, being double-fronted, standing a little taller than the buildings around it, and there were attic windows too. The sign above the immaculate front door left no room for doubt that they’d found what they were looking for: ‘North Hackney Queen’s Nurses Association’. This was why they’d taken the bus to the east side of the city, and then up Kingsland Road, with its busy mix of shops, cafés, factories and cinemas. This is where they would live for the foreseeable future and from where they would go out into the local community as district nurses. Alice found she was tracing with her forefinger the shape of the Queen’s Nurse badge that she wore on a cord around her neck.
For a moment her nerve failed her. Would she be good enough? Would she live up to the trust of her tutors and the expectations of her patients? She’d trained for years, first as a general nurse in a hospital, then on the specialist course to become a district nurse, but there had always been someone else there to guide her. Now she would be out there, on the district as it was called, on her own, in her patients’ houses rather than on wards, relying on her own skill and judgement to cope with whatever was thrown at her. Would she be able to do it?
Edith, who often relied on her friend to take the lead, now stepped forward. ‘Come on then. Let’s see what this place is like on the inside. Hope we get rooms on the top storey.’ She glanced up at Alice. ‘We’ll be all right, just you see.’
‘Of course we will.’ Alice gave herself a mental shake. ‘They wouldn’t have passed us otherwise.’ And with that she picked up her heavy case for what she hoped would be the last time for a very long while, strode up the steps and rapped sharply on the glossy navy paint of the door.
The difference between the bright daylight and the gloom of the corridor made them blink, and Alice at first almost didn’t see the young woman who let them in. She swiftly led them down the dim hallway and up a set of stairs, turning and opening a door, with a
shy murmur of ‘she’s been expecting you’, before vanishing again. Sunshine flooded in through a large window, falling on a sturdy but well-worn wooden desk covered in cardboard folders, with an equally solid-looking wooden bookcase behind it. Alice had just enough time to notice the familiar spines of textbooks she had studied when a student nurse before a bustling woman in uniform shot across from the far corner of the room and started speaking at top speed. Her hair was red as copper, her face was sprinkled with freckles and she was even shorter than Edith. Alice had the distinct impression that here was somebody who hardly ever sat still – keen energy radiated from her as she waved them inside the office.
‘Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Nurses Lake and Gillespie, I take it?’ She looked at them brightly.
‘Y-yes,’ Alice stuttered, momentarily taken aback by the woman’s strong Scottish accent. ‘I’m Alice Lake.’
‘Then you must be Edith Gillespie,’ the woman said, sounding delighted as she took them across to the slightly faded sofa on the far side of the room. ‘I’m Fiona Dewar, and I’ll be your superintendent. Sit, sit and take the weight off your feet, there’ll be time enough for standing very shortly. Take every opportunity for a nice sit-down in this business, that’s what I say, because who knows when you’ll get another chance? You’ll be rushing around soon enough, I’ll be bound.’ She took her seat behind the desk and pulled one of the folders towards her. ‘Gladys will bring us a cup of tea, that’s the young lady who let you in. She doesn’t say much to start with but you’ll get to know her all the same, I’m sure. So, now, your previous matron has said some very impressive things about you, Miss Lake.’ She turned a page in the file. ‘Most promising. You weren’t inclined to go back to your home town, then?’ She looked up and, although her grey eyes were kind, Alice realised they missed nothing.
Hastily she cleared her throat. ‘No, I did my specialist training in London and I grew to like it. Besides, it means I can work with Edith, we work well as a team.’ She smiled at the superintendent, hoping there would be no further questions in this delicate area. She had no intention of revealing her real reason for staying away from Liverpool. That was her own private business, and it would stay that way if she had anything to do with it.
Edith beamed and the superintendent turned her gaze towards her. ‘Ah yes, Miss Gillespie, it’s always good to have a friend to hand, especially when you’re in a responsible profession like nursing.’
Alice winced a little as yet again the older woman had homed in on a sensitive issue. Edith took her responsibilities very seriously – for as long as she was on duty. After that she took having fun very seriously as well. Alice suspected their former matron might well have made a note to that effect.
Edith sat up straight against the slightly sagging cushions of the sofa. ‘Yes, Miss Dewar. I know we won’t go round in pairs but we always found it useful to help each other out when we were studying, testing each other, that sort of thing.’
Fiona Dewar nodded sagely. ‘Indeed. That shows commendable dedication. And we don’t stand on ceremony here, girls. You may call me Fiona, unless it’s in front of patients or doctors. It may surprise you to learn that I’m not vastly older than you are.’
Alice made a valiant attempt not to let her astonishment show on her face. Their previous superiors would have never, ever have relaxed the tradition of formal titles. Besides, she had thought Fiona Dewar must be at least twice her own age – but then, looking more closely, she saw that she was wrong. Perhaps the superintendent was in her late thirties; but knowing she was at such a senior level had made Alice assume she must be even older. ‘No, of course not,’ she managed to say, as Edith was clearly unable to utter a word.
The superintendent beamed again. ‘I’m delighted you’ve both decided to join us. I know the borough’s main branch is a bit more central, but we like to think we keep a welcoming house here.’
Alice shifted in her seat. ‘We saw that you had vacancies for two nurses and so we thought we could stick together.’
Fiona nodded again. ‘That sounds very sensible. So, I’m sure you’re well prepared for your new positions and you’d never have passed the exam if you weren’t, but all the same …’ She sat back a little, clasping her hands. ‘It will be different to what you’ve been used to working in a hospital. Of course you are still under the medical direction of a doctor – you won’t be expected to dispense medicine for any patient except in emergencies, and I’m happy to say that our local GPs all appreciate the hard work we district nurses do. All the same, you will be required to show initiative and to take every opportunity to promote good health and hygiene to every family. Prevention is better than cure.’ Her eyes gleamed and Alice and Edith smiled in agreement.
‘Always remember, you are guests in the patients’ homes.’ Fiona’s face grew serious. ‘We never, ever judge our patients on account of their creed or degree of poverty. I regret to say that you will have plenty of dealings with the various officials who oversee public assistance, as many households around here can’t pay into provident schemes. Yet they are all equal when it comes to treatment.’
‘Of course,’ said Alice hurriedly, inwardly wondering how bad it might be. She knew all about poverty in theory – but she’d never gone without herself.
‘So, ladies, may I safely presume that you can ride bicycles?’
‘Yes, I been doing that since I was a kiddie,’ Edith assured the woman.
Alice inclined her head towards her friend. ‘I can manage a bike too.’ She’d never been allowed one as a child; her parents had thought it was too dangerous an activity for their beloved only daughter. ‘I learned when I was a student nurse. When we were working shifts it was the only reliable way to get around.’
‘Quite so,’ Fiona Dewar said approvingly. ‘We are fortunate to be well connected with public transport here, as you must have found out earlier, but when visiting your patients you will have to do so by bike. There’s no bus or tram that will get down some of our narrower streets. Do I take it that neither of you are familiar with this part of London?’
Both nurses shook their heads.
‘Oh, it’s a wonderful place to work.’ The superintendent spread her hands in front of her. ‘You’ll never be bored for a minute. We have unemployment around here, of course, and some of our local citizens do live cheek by jowl, you might say, and so we have to be extra vigilant against the spread of disease. There was an outbreak of typhoid down in Shoreditch at the beginning of the year, terrible business. Overcrowding makes it worse. But then, you knew all that before you qualified, didn’t you?’
Alice agreed somewhat nervously. It was one thing to learn such things as a part of a course, quite another to be brought face to face with the facts. Still, if she’d wanted an easy life she could have gone back to Liverpool. Although that would have been difficult in other ways.
‘It can’t be any more overcrowded than where I grew up,’ said Edith matter-of-factly. ‘We were seven of us children in a two-bedroom house and that was better off than some of our neighbours. You just got on and made the best of things.’
‘That’s the spirit,’ said Fiona.
Alice glanced at her friend. She knew it hadn’t been as simple as that. But that was Edith’s story to tell.
There was a nervous knock at the door and the young woman who’d let them in tentatively balanced a laden tea tray as she stepped across to the desk. She didn’t meet their eyes, but kept her gaze towards the floor and her mousy brown hair fell forward, obscuring her pale face.
‘Thank you, Gladys,’ said Fiona, as Gladys scooted out again. She poured three cups from the pot. ‘I wouldn’t like to give you the impression that you’ll be waited on hand and foot here. This is purely because it’s a special occasion, to welcome you to your new home.’ She glanced up as she passed the cups across the desk. ‘We see to ourselves most of the time when it comes to cups of tea or that sort of thing. There are three meals a day served downs
tairs on the lower ground floor, all provided by our esteemed Cook, and you will of course maintain your own rooms in spick-and-span order. We must value hygienic practices at all times.’
‘Of course,’ Alice agreed hurriedly. It was what they’d been used to, after all. She gratefully sipped her tea, realising that her last cup had been at an unearthly hour that morning, and felt like a long time ago.
‘Our district room is on the ground floor – you’ll have passed the door to it on your way in,’ Fiona went on. ‘I must warn you that, although we are by and large a friendly establishment here, any nurse who leaves that room less tidy than she found it will incur immediate wrath. There can be absolutely no exceptions. I trust I need say no more about that most vital rule.’
Alice hastily swallowed her tea and nodded vigorously. The district room was where all supplies and equipment were kept, with which each nurse replenished the contents of her own Gladstone bag that went everywhere with her. To fall foul of the superintendent’s rule would be to risk another nurse being unable to find something important, possibly in an emergency. That could never be allowed to happen.
‘Yes, Fiona. I mean no,’ added Edith.
‘Good,’ said the superintendent, setting down her cup of tea on its serviceable saucer. ‘All finished? Excellent. Now, follow me. I’m afraid you’ll have to hit the ground running as we are extremely busy right now. Which is why we’re so glad to recruit the pair of you together, of course. You’ll be needed just as soon as you’ve had a moment to catch your breath. Someone will bring up your big cases, but please take your bags. I’ll show you to your rooms. You’re on the top floor, so I hope you’ve got good legs. Well, if you haven’t already, you soon will have.’