She whirled round to speak to Mrs Lawrence. Hadn’t she seen what had happened? But Mrs Lawrence had problems of her own. Beatrice was aghast to see Alfie and his friends were taunting her.
‘Now you young boys –’ Mrs Lawrence began.
Another stone whizzed past. Mrs Lawrence ducked as it flew overhead and missed her footing. Beatrice watched in horror as she went tumbling down the steep stone steps behind her, her tiny body making sickening thuds as she fell. Her head struck the cobbles below. With her arm trapped awkwardly beneath her, she lay absolutely lifeless.
Chapter Four
There was a terrified hush. Beatrice whirled round. Alfie’s face was a picture of fear, pale and aghast, his eyes round as buttons.
‘Is she dead, miss?’
Beatrice didn’t answer. She turned and raced down the stairs, lifting her skirts up. Why did women have to wear such ridiculous clothes? She rushed to crouch down beside the lifeless form of Mrs Lawrence, picking up her uninjured arm and cradling it in hers.
‘Mrs Lawrence. Mrs Lawrence!’
Edward’s mother groaned, but her eyes remained closed. She was still alive. Beatrice felt a wave of the most intense relief rush through her. She thought swiftly and leapt to her feet. Behind her, clustered at the bottom of the steps, was the group of lads who’d thrown stones. They’d followed her and were standing pale and solemn, Alfie in front of them.
‘Is she dead, miss?’ he repeated.
Beatrice caught hold of his hand. ‘Now listen, Alfie,’ she said. ‘I want you to run as fast as ever you can to the Infirmary and ask for Dr Lawrence. Tell him his mother’s had an accident and bring him back here as quick as you can. Can you do that?’
Alfie nodded and tore out of her grasp. The next minute he was pelting directly down the almost perpendicular hillside, avoiding the winding paths and the steps that led to the town, leaping over tufts of grass and heather, taking the direct route.
Beatrice looked at the rest of the group and picked one of the other boys. ‘Do you know the house of Mrs Collinge?’
The boy nodded. Mary Collinge and her mother lived on the next street. Beatrice guessed Mrs Collinge would be at home. She was often too ill to leave the house.
‘Then run to Mrs Collinge’s and ask her for a jug of water and a cup, and any large clean piece of cloth she can give us. A shawl, if she has one to spare.’
Like Alfie, the boy didn’t need asking twice. He set off at a fast sprint. By now a group of onlookers was beginning to form. Beatrice organised the rest of the boys to stand in a circle around Mrs Lawrence, keeping the curious at bay and giving the injured woman some space. She dropped down again by the woman’s side, sliding her hand gently under her shoulder. If Mrs Lawrence was unconscious, it was probably better to release the arm lying awkwardly beneath her now, while she couldn’t feel the pain. It was lucky Edward’s mother was so petite. She could lift her quite easily. Beatrice managed to draw the arm out and lay it gently by the woman’s side. Mrs Lawrence moaned. Her eyes flickered open.
‘Mrs Lawrence,’ Beatrice said. ‘Do you know who I am?’
There was a dull look in the brown eyes on hers. Beatrice felt panic rise, but she stifled it, conscious of the group of frightened boys around her. It was vital to stay calm, for everyone’s sake.
‘Do you know who I am?’ she repeated.
Mrs Lawrence met her gaze. She nodded, saying faintly, ‘Beatrice. Edward’s sweetheart.’
Beatrice flushed. Mrs Lawrence was obviously concussed. There was a stifled giggle from one of the boys. She ignored it.
‘How many fingers am I holding up?’ Beatrice raised her hand.
‘Three,’ Mrs Lawrence replied.
Beatrice went on asking Mrs Lawrence a question every few minutes – whether she knew where she was, and who she’d come to visit, and what Miss Moonshine’s dog was called. She was very relieved when the answers began to come a little more firmly and Mrs Lawrence began to seem more alert. In a little while, Mary came running up with a cup and a jug of water, and a square of faded but clean cotton.
Beatrice lifted Mrs Lawrence’s head and let her sip, and then folded the square into a neat sling.
‘I’m just going to raise your arm,’ she said. Carefully, she lifted the injured arm and slipped the sling around it, reaching under Mrs Lawrence’s shoulder with the cloth. Then she unpinned the brooch from her own blouse, using it to fasten the ends of the cloth together.
‘There,’ she said, sitting back on her haunches. ‘That’s not a bad job for my first ever sling.’
‘Very well done, my dear. And I barely felt a thing.’ Mrs Lawrence’s voice was still faint, but her eyes had a twinkle to them as she looked up at Beatrice.
Beatrice gave her a rueful smile. She was more relieved than she could say to hear Mrs Lawrence make a joke.
And now there was nothing more to do except wait. The time dragged with excruciating slowness. Around her, the group of boys who had been responsible for throwing stones were still casting anxious glances at the tiny form of Mrs Lawrence, her head now pillowed on Mary Collinge’s none-too-clean shawl. When anyone approached too near, the lads were quick to urge them to stand back.
‘Give ’er room,’ one of them would say, or, ‘There’s nowt to see ’ere.’
As the minutes ticked by, Beatrice had ample time to ponder the fate of Miss Moonshine, last seen being dragged away by a policeman. What had happened to her?
It was an enormous relief to hear the sound of Edward’s car horn. Beatrice jumped to her feet. There were still lots of women making their way up and down the path, chatting excitedly. Edward was forced to take care as they scattered to the side to let him through. Alfie sat beside him in the passenger seat, looking lordly. He was staring straight forward, head held high, as though he were accustomed to driving in cars every day of his life.
Edward brought the car to a halt and jumped out, leaving the engine running. He lifted his bag from the back seat and hurried to where his mother lay. There was a worried frown on his face, but he gave Beatrice a quick smile before dropping down on his knees.
‘In trouble again?’ He took his mother’s uninjured hand in his. The relief on Mrs Lawrence’s face at the sight of him was touching. She gave a wan smile.
Edward proceeded to ask the same questions Beatrice had done, holding up his fingers and examining his mother’s eyes. He also went through a series of tests to check for injury to her back. Eventually, the stiff set of his shoulders relaxed. He declared his mother fit enough to travel to the Infirmary in the motor, rather than wait for the horse-drawn ambulance that was following, if Beatrice could help support her to the car.
When his mother was safely installed in the passenger seat, her arm in her neat sling, Edward took Beatrice’s hand and pressed it.
‘Thank you,’ he said hurriedly. ‘I wish I could take you home, but I must get her broken bone treated, and I have my own patients waiting at the Infirmary.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Beatrice returned the pressure of his fingers. ‘I’ll be perfectly fine.’
Edward looked mightily relieved. ‘I really can’t thank you enough.’ He looked about him, as a thought struck him. ‘Where is Miss Moonshine?’
‘You mustn’t worry about Miss Moonshine, Edward dear,’ came his mother’s voice from the car. ‘That redoubtable lady is perfectly capable of looking after herself.’
Edward caught Beatrice’s eye and they shared a smile.
Chapter Five
Two weeks after the events of the march, Beatrice was once more making her way down the hill towards Miss Moonshine’s shop. That ‘redoubtable lady’ had been brought before a magistrate and charged with assaulting a police officer with an umbrella. Miss Moonshine had stated in a firm voice that although she did not uphold the legality of the court, since it was run only by men, she was prepared to pay the fine as there was no one to look after her dog if she had to go to prison. She wanted it placed on record that this went m
uch against the grain.
In the meantime, after a night in the Infirmary, Mrs Lawrence was recovering from her accident at Miss Moonshine’s. She spent each day sitting in the upstairs room of the shop, scribbling away at her next novel. It was her right arm she’d broken, but by the greatest good luck she was left-handed, and able to write to her heart’s content.
Beatrice had seen nothing of Edward in the weeks following the march. He had returned the brooch she’d used to fasten his mother’s sling, along with a gift of a beautiful pair of earrings to match. He’d chosen the earrings himself, he explained in the accompanying note, and he wanted her to have them as a thank-you for her level-headed care of his mother. Without Beatrice’s presence of mind, Mrs Lawrence might have fared far worse.
Beatrice imagined Edward must be very busy with his patients. She knew she shouldn’t mind it, and she told herself she only resented his busyness because she herself was forced to be idle. But deep down, she knew her low spirits were due to the fact that he hadn’t found time to visit her at all.
On top of everything, Beatrice’s brother-in-law was now home from India. Beatrice had been visiting one of the mill girls when he drove up from the station. On her return, she’d turned into the driveway to find a horse and cart, piled high with baggage. The door to the house stood wide open, and in the doorway were Captain Osborne and Sylvia. They were locked in a wild embrace, oblivious to everything around them. The captain, in his dashing uniform of black and gold, was clasping Sylvia in such a fierce hold, it seemed he might bend her slim body in two.
Beatrice had turned immediately to walk back down the road, where she continued to pace up and down for at least half an hour, giving Charles time to greet his wife and new daughter. She was enormously happy for Sylvia, and of course she was mightily relieved that Charles was safe home. But she couldn’t help feeling a little wistful at the thought that no one in her life had ever held her with such passion.
It was in this low frame of mind that Beatrice pushed open the door of Miss Moonshine’s shop. The old lady and Mrs Lawrence were standing behind the counter. Miss Moonshine looked none the worse for her brush with the law. In fact when she looked up from her newspaper, her gaze was even brighter than ever.
‘Beatrice,’ she cried. ‘I was expecting you.’
Normally Beatrice would have laughed, but she was feeling too depressed, and so she merely gave the shopkeeper a small smile.
‘I’ve come for some ointment for Evie –’ she began.
‘Yes, dear, I’ve got it ready for you.’ Miss Moonshine indicated the neatly sealed packet on the counter.
‘Oh!’ This foresight was astonishing, even for Miss Moonshine, but Beatrice had no chance to ask her how she knew what she wanted, because the old lady was obviously eager to tell her something.
She held up the newspaper she’d been studying. ‘Have you seen this?’
Beatrice stepped closer. ‘Women Students to Enrol at Manchester Medical College’, the headline read. Beatrice let out a gasp. Women at the medical college! Forgetting her troubles, she took the article from Miss Moonshine and read every word. When she’d finished reading, she had to start from the beginning and read all over again.
She lifted her wondering gaze to Miss Moonshine’s.
‘So,’ Miss Moonshine beamed, ‘This means you can study to be a doctor, after all.’
A swell of the most tremendous euphoria swept over Beatrice. She was so giddy with the unexpected joy of it, it was several seconds before she could say anything. She imagined stepping through the doors of the college just like the male students. She imagined sitting in a lecture theatre, making notes in her notebook. She imagined going on the medical rounds as a real doctor!
Then cold reality set in. Studying cost money. Undaunted, Beatrice began rapidly going through her various options. She could work as a teacher and save up. Perhaps her parents might be able to help with a loan, which she could repay. Perhaps even Charles –
Mrs Lawrence, who had been standing quietly, now broke in. ‘This is where I come in, Miss Diamond. But I hope I may call you Beatrice?’
The older lady came round the counter and took Beatrice’s hand in her uninjured one. ‘I wanted to thank you for your great presence of mind during the march. Without you, I might have suffered a lot more. I know how long it would take you to save up the fees necessary for your medical training, and I’d like to pay for you.’
Beatrice opened her mouth to protest, but Mrs Lawrence pressed her hand. ‘I understand, my dear, and if it worries you to accept a gift, then once you are qualified and earning money as a doctor, you can pay me back. But I have too much money, and I’ll only waste it on things like cars. You would make a wonderful doctor, and it would make me very happy if you would allow me to help you.’
Beatrice switched her gaze from Mrs Lawrence to Miss Moonshine, who was watching them both, an enigmatic smile on her face. ‘Of course you must accept, Beatrice dear. After all, you and Constance will be family one day.’ The old lady clapped her hand to her mouth, an expression of dismay on her face. ‘Oh, dear. Perhaps I’ve said too much.’
Beatrice reddened. She took in Mrs Lawrence’s happy expression. Family? What did Miss Moonshine mean?
Mrs Lawrence turned and gave her friend a stern glance. ‘Miss Moonshine, really.’
But Beatrice could tell Edward’s mother was secretly pleased at the idea of her one day being family. She was secretly very pleased indeed.
Chapter Six
It was a while before Beatrice could take up a place at medical college. These things take time, but the country had waited centuries for the first women to become doctors, so what did it matter to wait a little more?
In the meantime, Mrs Lawrence astonished Captain Osborne by giving Sylvia her car. She had no use for it with her arm in a sling, she’d told Sylvia, and in any case, it had been an impulse buy and she’d discovered she wasn’t a good driver. It was far better for it to go to someone who was good with engines and who would look after it.
To his credit, the captain soon took to the idea of his wife driving. Her brother-in-law appeared to have come back from India a different man, Beatrice thought. Less rigid. Less demanding of others. Perhaps something in army life had changed him. Or perhaps it was becoming a father that had mellowed him. Whatever the case, when Beatrice told Charles she was going to be a doctor, he was only momentarily taken aback. Later, he told Sylvia he was very proud to have Beatrice as a sister.
And so the momentous and wonderful day finally came when Beatrice was to leave Haven Bridge. Edward insisted on driving her to the station. He piled her cases in the back of Sylvia’s car and they made their way down the hill to the town, past the steep path leading up to Hepton, over the packhorse bridge, past the arch of roses that stood in front of Miss Moonshine’s shop, and on to the station.
Edward drew up in the cobbled forecourt. He delivered the bags into the care of the porter, and they made their way to the platform. Soon the whistle of a train sounded in the distance, and a plume of black smoke could be seen. Beatrice turned, her heart thumping, about to tell Edward that he must visit her, and soon, and that she’d miss him terribly. Before she could speak, he caught hold of her hands. The next moment, Beatrice was in Edward’s arms, and he was kissing her with wild passion, not caring about the shocked passengers on the platform who were staring, open-mouthed.
The train drew up on the platform with a great clank of its wheels and a hiss of steam. Edward broke away and reached a hand to touch Beatrice’s cheek.
‘Good luck, my darling Beatrice. Write as soon as you get there. Tell me everything.’
The porter blew his whistle impatiently, and Edward handed her inside.
‘Goodbye, Edward.’ Beatrice leaned out. ‘I’ll write every day.’
The train chugged, and the wheels began to turn.
‘I’ll come and visit,’ Edward said, jogging along by her open window. The train picked up speed, and he began t
o run, and then to sprint, waving frantically, so that Beatrice was forced to giggle.
‘Goodbye! I’ll miss you!’ she called. ‘Visit me soon!’
At the far end of the platform, standing underneath the sign for Haven Bridge, was a small figure in a wide-brimmed hat. She was waving a handkerchief, and there was a tiny dog at her side.
‘Goodbye, Miss Moonshine!’ Beatrice waved madly. ‘Goodbye!’
The End
Historical note
Mary Elizabeth Collinge was a real weaver who lived in a terraced house in Heptonstall, West Yorkshire. There is a blue plaque bearing her name outside the house.
The first woman graduated in medicine from Manchester University in 1904. I have taken a little liberty with the dates.
There was a suffragette march in Heptonstall in 1908. As far as I know, there were no arrests. At least, Miss Moonshine has left no record….
Author Bio Helena Fairfax is a freelance editor and author. Her novels have been shortlisted for several awards, including the Exeter Novel Prize and the Global Ebook Awards. Helena lives in an old mill village on the edge of the Yorkshire moors with her husband and their rescue dog, Lexi. Find out more about Helena
The Man in Her Dreams
by
Jacqui Cooper
Laura
‘I’m sorry, love, I hate to let you down but someone’s rung in sick. They need me at work.’
Even as he spoke, James was pulling on a shirt and searching for a tie. He had only just started this new job after being out of work for a while and though Laura knew he was right to go, she couldn’t hide her disappointment over missing their day out.
James, as usual, was making a complete hash of knotting his tie and she stepped close to do it for him. ‘Do you think you’ll be able to get away early? We could still go for a walk.’
Miss Moonshine's Emporium of Happy Endings: A feel-good collection of heartwarming stories Page 6