Mayfair Rebel

by Mayfair Rebel (retail) (epub)

  May was shocked to the core, but she made an effort to understand, though she said to Ellen that evening, after they came off duty, ‘But what about the young girls, who aren’t married, why do they allow themselves to get into that situation?’

  Ellen was more tolerant. ‘Remember their lives have not been as sheltered as ours – who knows what pressures have been brought to bear? Besides,’ she hesitated, and her pale skin flushed pink, ‘if they loved the man they were with – it is not just men who feel desire, May.’

  May blinked, then remembered how she had felt when Harry Cussons had so caressingly unbuttoned her glove, how would she have felt if… Feeling suddenly at sea she opened her mouth to question Ellen further, then hastily closed it again as she recollected that Ellen had been engaged – her fiancé had died of pneumonia the year before she had come to St Katharine’s. She couldn’t talk of this to her, it would revive painful memories. She began to speak instead of the projected Royal Visit, which had just been announced.

  By the time May was due to leave Dorcas she had faced up to the shattering of many long-held prejudices, and had learned things which would have appalled Lady Clarence. On the last day before she was due to change, Sister Dorcas expanded her knowledge even further. Sister called her into her sitting room and posed a direct question:

  ‘Nurse Winton, in future years you may find yourself, as a nurse, faced with a desperate woman who has just given, birth, and to whom the possibility of yet another pregnancy is a nightmare – what would you do?’

  Three months ago May would have had no difficulty in answering. Now she paused, looked at Sister Dorcas, and eventually admitted, ‘I just don’t know, Sister. I don’t know.’

  This admission of defeat appeared to satisfy Sister Dorcas. She leant forward. ‘In that situation I advise the use of a sponge, well soaked in vinegar, placed in the appropriate position – at the appropriate time.’ May stared at her, with dawning comprehension. ‘For medical reasons, of course. Remember that, Nurse Winton, always for medical reasons, otherwise you will have the whole weight of the establishment descending on your head. And don’t, under any circumstances, give this advice while still in training, leave that to me. Come now, Nurse, don’t look so surprised. How many women in your rank of society give birth to more children than they wish? And they have all the money and domestic assistance that they need. You may go now, Nurse.’

  As she left May remembered Lady Canning’s cry, ‘How could Della have been so careless!’ and another piece of the jigsaw fell into place. So it had been deliberate – had Della Hindlesham known of Harry Cussons’ proposal to herself and decided not to risk losing him in the future?

  May’s next ward was a men’s medical, and May told Ellen privately that it was just as well. ‘After three months on Dorcas I’d begun to think of the male of the species as nothing more than a selfish, vicious brute; but I suppose men are only like us really, just a little different.’

  Ellen’s eyes danced. ‘Oh, they’re certainly different, May, even you must have noticed that!’ May laughed at herself.

  Still, she was glad she was no longer on Dorcas when Lady Clarence’s letter arrived telling of the death of her little grandson, and of Emily’s heartbroken grief. May wrote long letters of grieving sympathy to her step-sister. Emily replied herself, saying how grateful she had been for her mother and step-father’s presence over the long exhausting summer months. ‘Mamma has been a tower of strength, May, I could not have continued without her. I am so glad you told her to come in the spring – she admits she would never have taken such a step of her own accord; we are both grateful to you.’

  * * *

  At the end of November preparations got under way for the Royal Visit. A new wing was to be opened by the Queen herself. Matron decreed that every part of the hospital must be scrubbed and re-scrubbed.

  ‘Though I just can’t believe,’ Ada exclaimed one evening, ‘that Her Majesty will stick her august nostrils into the “dirty” sink in Job’s sluice room, yet Staff Nurse said to me today, “I’m sure I detect a stain around that plughole – remember, Nurse Farrar, your work must be fit for the gracious lady herself to inspect!”’ The spectacle of Ada, hands on hips, elbows akimbo, trying to imitate Staff Robson’s genteel tones was too much for May and Ellen – they rolled on the bed, helpless with laughter.

  Ada said indignantly, ‘Well, I don’t think she’ll go in there, do you? You know how Job sluice smells when the wind’s in the north.’

  Ellen mopped her eyes and said soothingly, ‘I’m sure you’re right, Ada. But I suppose Sister Job keeps on hoping.’

  Hosea, May’s own ward, was in the new wing, and so definitely due for an inspection. The nurses’ hands were red and raw from scrubbing and cleaning, while the elderly ward maid had claimed republican sentiments and refused to do a stroke more than usual. This had left May with the job of dismantling and cleaning the gas stove, and she incurred Sister Hosea’s wrath when she failed to reassemble it correctly. May, hot, filthy, and exhausted, had finally suggested to Aggie that she might just possibly find herself able to discover some lurking monarchical tendencies in return for a pound of winkles from the stall near the main gate. The addition of jellied eels to the bribe sealed the bargain, and on May recklessly throwing in a jar of cockles Aggie managed a toothless rendering of the National Anthem as she reassembled the stove.

  ‘You’re an old hypocrite, Aggie.’

  Aggie winked at May and licked her lips. ‘I’ve allus bin partial to shellfish.’

  The great day finally arrived. Sister Hosea, her collar so stiffly starched that she could not lower her chin, lectured the men into abject submission and arranged her minions in ranks behind her.

  The Queen was as unpunctual as May remembered from her visits to Stemhalton, and Sister Hosea was quivering like a jelly by the time the retinue entered the ward. The nurses bobbed respectfully. Her Majesty uttered a few gracious words to Sister, listened with her sweet smile to the stammered reply, then prepared to cast her glow over the patients. But just as she was about to move her eye alighted upon May; she paused, turned to Matron and spoke softly to her. Matron’s voice was clear.

  ‘Nurse Winton, step forward please.’

  May moved forward and dropped into her court curtsey, feeling very strange as her blue-striped galatea swept the shiny linoleum floor of Hosea Ward. The Queen was gracious.

  ‘Your grandmother told me I might see you here, Miss Winton. How are you enjoying nursing?’

  May, conscious of Sister Hosea’s barely suppressed gasp of astonishment, replied, ‘Very well indeed, Your Majesty.’

  ‘But not, I think, the meals at St Katharine’s!’ The Queen laughed, a clear silvery peal. May, aware of Matron’s raised eyebrows and the furious glare of the Hospital Chairman, wished the floor would open up beneath her, but it remained rock solid and the Queen was waiting for a reply.

  ‘The nature of our nursing duties is such as to encourage an appetite, Ma’am.’ The answer was the best compromise between diplomacy and truth that May could manage on the spur of the moment.

  The Queen turned to the red-faced Chairman. ‘Miss Winton begs for food hampers, you know, from her grandmother’s chef. You really must feed your nurses better in future, Sir James.’ Sir James looked apoplectic, but the Queen did not choose to notice. With a last kindly word to May she moved on to the first patient.

  After the procession had left the ward the other Hosea pros looked at May with mingled awe and compassion.

  ‘My God,’ said outspoken Evans, ‘You certainly move in exalted circles, Winton, but I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes when Matron sends for you tomorrow morning.’ A sentiment with which May could only agree.

  The expected summons came the next morning, delivered in a biting voice by Sister Hosea, who had obviously recovered her composure and was determined to show May that hobnobbing with the royal family cut no ice on her ward.

  As May entered Matron’s office she no
ticed that the Hospital Chairman was present. Matron merely told her that Sir James wished to speak to her, then sat back in silence. The Chairman fixed his basilisk gaze on May and launched into an oration in which he informed her that every luxury was lavished on the nurses of St Katharine’s, and that she had been guilty of base ingratitude and shameful disloyalty in daring to complain. As soon as he had brought his tirade to a resounding conclusion he turned to Matron and indicated that he had finished with her probationer. May was absolutely furious, and determined not to leave the field of battle without firing her own fusillade. Who did this man think he was? How dare he sit there and treat her like a naughty child out of a schoolroom? She acted quickly. Before Matron had time to dismiss her she had launched into her reply, her voice cold and her tone controlled.

  ‘Since you were present, Sir James, you must be well aware that I did not complain. However, as you have given me this opportunity to expand on the situation,’ at this point Sir James appeared to be trying to indicate that he was not, in fact, offering any such opportunity, but May merely raised her voice slightly and continued as if he had not spoken, ‘I must say that it is true that I, and all the other nurses who can afford to do so, supplement our rations here.’ By now the Chairman had given up expostulating and was staring at May with a bemused expression on his face; she was encouraged to further flights of rhetoric. ‘How would you like to scrub forty bedpans on one sardine, Sir James? And come off duty tired and hungry after a long day to be faced with gristly mince and porridge, cold porridge? And on nights, why, not only do we have to cook for ourselves, but to make anything like a reasonable meal we have to buy extra food – whereas at Guy’s the night staff are served with a freshly cooked meal in the dining room, halfway through their duty – and they have a swimming pool! Why can’t we have one?’ May’s voice rose indignantly on this last demand. She paused for breath and Sir James seized his chance, and his hat.

  ‘Swimming has nothing whatsoever to do with nursing! Matron, I have an urgent appointment, but I trust you will endeavour to make this young lady see the error of her ways. Good morning.’ He had surged through the door before either of the women could reply.

  May was flushed with triumph at the rout of her opponent – until she looked at Matron’s impassive face. Her spirits sank, but she seized the initiative again, smiled sweetly and said quickly, ‘Thank you so much, Matron, for allowing me to present the nurses’ case to the Chairman in person.’

  Matron gave her a level stare, then said, ‘The pleasure was mine, Nurse Winton. I have frequently expressed my concern on this matter to the Board, though not, I admit, with quite your fervour. Maybe you will have more success. However, I do feel it was perhaps a mistake of strategy to demand a swimming bath at this juncture – it is generally better to concentrate on one theme only in a situation like this. Still, you’re young yet, you will learn. Possibly you could mention the pool next time you dine at the Palace? Will you send in the nurse waiting outside, please?’

  A week later two sardines were served for breakfast, and the supper porridge was offered hot, with a choice of an apple or an orange. It was generally agreed that, between them, May and the Queen had scored a major victory; but May felt she never would understand Matron.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Although Ellen, Ada and May were the best of friends there was one clear difference between them – dress. Ada, for all her suffragette convictions, had a keen interest in clothes: she invariably changed out of uniform for even the shortest of off-duty periods. May, despite her sense of relief when she arrived at the hospital and found she was at last somewhere where she did not have to change her clothing four or five times a day, still enjoyed dressing up for special occasions. She had spent too much of her life in fashionable dress-makers to be totally immune now. But Ellen was different: Ellen would not or could not care tuppence about her appearance. Her face was pretty, her figure slender, but she always looked dowdy. Indeed, May strongly suspected that she would have cheerfully gone out with buttons missing and hem dangling, had not the other two kept a sharp eye on her.

  Matters reached a head in the New Year. Ellen’s parents, well aware of her failings, had sent the money for a new outfit, in good time for Christmas. By the third week in January Ellen had respected their wishes to the extent of having neither given it away nor bought books with it, but the sum remained unspent. In desperation May and Ada embarked on a concerted campaign of coaxing and bullying, and eventually extracted a promise that Ellen would go up to Town on her very next half day, and not come back without a purchase.

  Ellen set off after dinner looking, as Ada reported to May, more like a candidate for rack and thumbscrew than a young woman about to enjoy a pleasant afternoon’s shopping. It was May, coming off duty at six, who caught her slinking into her room in her old shabby coat and hat, looking much more cheerful but with no sign of parcels or boxes. She gave a guilty gasp as May pounced, but insisted that she had an excuse. May felt she should be severe, but as she could not help noticing Ellen’s heightened colour, curiosity won the day and she made a pot of tea and settled down for a good gossip.

  The explanation was all too typical of Ellen. ‘I went, just as I said I would, May, and I got off at Hyde Park Corner and I was going to go straight to Harrods – honestly May – but the sun was shining, and that’s so unusual in January, and I had to go past the Albert Gate, so I thought, well, a short walk in the Park, there’d still be plenty of time for shopping, it would have been criminal to waste the fine weather…’ Ellen’s story spilled out. Once in the Park who should she see but Lord Hindlesham, over the other side of the Row. ‘He was walking so slowly, and he looked so sad – not at all bouncy like he was when we met him in the House of Lords.’ Ellen, being Ellen, had rushed across in ready sympathy and introduced herself. ‘I thought for one awful moment he hadn’t recognised me out of uniform, then he realised who I was – he does have a nice smile, May.’ Ellen had admitted to playing truant whereupon Lord Hindlesham had claimed to be doing the same and suggested a further stroll round the Park. May tried to look stern.

  ‘Really, Ellen, he just aided and abetted you – I don’t know what Ada will say!’

  Ellen looked momentarily horrified. ‘Oh, don’t tell her it was a man, May, she’d never forgive me!’

  But May was far too intrigued to scold Ellen further. Her friend’s story had brought back to her a vivid picture of the drawing room at Stemhalton, and the gossip exchanged there in September. She exclaimed, ‘Why, Della’s baby must have been born by now – I wonder whether it was a boy or a girl?’

  ‘It was a girl.’

  May was startled. ‘Surely he didn’t tell you that?’

  ‘Yes, he did.’ Ellen was pink but definite. ‘Obviously I didn’t ask him, May, but we were talking about Elizabeth Ward, and I told him of that poor little Mary Jones who came in with pneumonia, after her mother abandoned her under the railway bridge because she came from a respectable family and couldn’t face the shame of it, and Sister says she’ll be put in prison and I think that’s so wrong – anyway, after I’d told him he said he was acknowledging Della’s baby as his, as it wasn’t the child’s fault, and obviously there hadn’t been time for a divorce before the birth, so he’d not started proceedings until after. She wants one you see, and he’d written to Della and told her, and I think its very noble of him, May. But his mother is annoyed, and she never liked Della anyway.’

  May said dryly, ‘I’m sure she’d have been even more annoyed if the child had been a boy.’

  Ellen nodded. ‘Yes, he said it would have been more difficult then. I told him he was absolutely right and he’d quite restored my faith in the aristocracy, and he laughed. He seemed to cheer up after that, and we spent the rest of the time arguing about politics – you know he’s far too good to be a Tory, I do hope he realises he’s mistaken.’ Ellen added rather wistfully, ‘I must say, it was rather nice being escorted by someone so smart; I was glad I’d chan
ged out of uniform.’

  May gazed at Ellen’s small figure and thought of her old coat and battered felt hat and wondered what on earth George Hindlesham must have thought of her after the beautifully groomed, Junoesque Della, but she thrust the disloyal comparison to one side – Ellen was worth a thousand Dellas – and stated firmly, ‘But there was still time to buy your new outfit.’

  ‘No, there wasn’t, because you know I disapprove of shopping after five-thirty, I think it’s so unfair on the assistants, whatever the law says.’

  May’s curiosity was further aroused. ‘But you weren’t walking in the Park until then – not in January?’

  Ellen said no, she’d invited him to tea in the Corner House, and May gasped at the thought of Lord Hindlesham’s fine palate being subjected to those bright yellow rock buns and the stewed Indian tea; but Ellen was more concerned by the fact that he had refused to let her pay the bill, and then insisted on sending her home in a cab. ‘Ada will be furious with me about that, too, only it would have been discourteous to keep on refusing – but it was me who’d invited him to tea, and I did want to treat him.’

  May laughed. ‘Ellen, the Hindlesham estates are enormous! Besides, with your principles you should have been glad to relieve him of some of his inherited wealth.’

  Ellen gave a mischievous grin. ‘Actually, that’s exactly what he said, so I gave in. Then he gave me ten pounds for Sister Elizabeth’s Take Home Blanket and Baby Food Fund – she will be pleased. Did I tell you she’s got some special cot blankets with stripes on now, and she’s been round all the local pawnshops and they’ve agreed not to accept them, so they’ll have to be used for the babies.’

  Ellen had obviously said all she was going to about her meeting with Lord Hindlesham, so May picked up her cue and they turned to discussing hospital matters.