The Wartime Midwives

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The Wartime Midwives Page 22

by Daisy Styles


  Shivering in the wind, Emily watched her friend tilt Shirley’s face backwards; then, after pressing Shirley’s nose shut with her fingertips, she breathed deeply into the girl’s open mouth several times. Hardly daring even to breathe herself, Emily, silent and tense, prayed with all her heart.

  ‘Please God, don’t let little Shirley die. Please let her live.’

  Isla took another deep breath and repeated the first-aid procedure she’d been taught at school, and at the end of the second breath Shirley suddenly groaned.

  ‘She’s alive!’ Isla cried. ‘Shirley! Shirley!’ she cried.

  Hearing the girl making gagging noises, Isla quickly rolled her on to her side, ‘She’s choking!’

  As Isla worked to clear Shirley’s airway, Emily knelt beside the girl, whose hands she firmly grasped. ‘SHIRLEY!’ she implored. ‘Stay with us, darling, please don’t die.’

  In what seemed like hours but was, in fact, a few agonizing seconds, they waited for some sign of life. And then, suddenly, Shirley took a noisy breath.

  ‘ARGHHHH!’ she moaned.

  ‘Get her upright again,’ Isla instructed.

  Emily, still on the ground, helped Isla to get Shirley to sit up.

  ‘She’s freezing,’ Emily said in a panic. She rubbed the girl’s cold hands with her own warm ones.

  Looking frantically about, Isla said urgently, ‘Can you manage to stay here with Shirley while I run back to the hall?’

  Emily quickly nodded. ‘Yes, of course I’ll stay.’

  ‘Here – take my scarf,’ Isla said, and wrapped her woolly scarf around Shirley’s neck.

  Worried that Isla might catch a chill, Emily cried, ‘Won’t you need it?’

  ‘I’ll be warmer once I get moving,’ Isla replied. ‘Wrap your arms around Shirley, hold her tight and keep talking, and try to make her talk too – I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  As Isla set off back across the sands, Emily called after her, ‘Be careful of the quicksand! Stick to the tracks.’

  Left alone, Emily gazed into Shirley’s pale face, lifting her closer into her embrace and wrapping the coats even more tightly around her shivering body. ‘I’ll keep you warm. There now,’ she crooned gently rocking Shirley, ‘Shhh, lovie, you’re safe now.’

  After almost running all the way back to Mary Vale, Isla just about collapsed in the entrance hall. Clutching her belly, which felt like it was on fire, she groped her way on to the ward.

  ‘Heavens above!’ exclaimed Sister Ann, when she saw Isla bent over double and gasping for breath. ‘What on earth has happened to you?’

  Helping Isla into a chair, the nun went white with shock when she heard they’d found Shirley on the marsh.

  ‘She’s alive, but only just,’ Isla quickly told her. ‘Emily’s with her; we need someone to get her safely back here. It’s freezing out there and she’s so weak.’

  Instantly galvanized, Sister Ann picked up her heavy skirts and tore down the ward, calling at the top of her voice for Ada.

  Minutes later, after getting directions from Isla (who wanted to accompany them but was firmly told otherwise), Ada set off running like a thing possessed across the marsh, where the wind was blowing even more strongly and sheets of icy grey rain had started to fall. Following the tracks that skirted the quicksand, Ada ran and her nurse’s cape billowed in the wind like a dark cloud; her long auburn hair whipped free of her starched cap and blew wildly about her tense face. When Emily saw Ada approaching, she frantically waved her scarf.

  ‘OVER HERE!’ she shouted.

  Seeing Shirley cradled in Emily’s arms lent wings to Ada’s feet: she flew across the ground that separated them.

  ‘My dearest child,’ she murmured, as she relieved exhausted Emily of her burden.

  At the sound of the voice she loved and would always remember, Shirley briefly opened her eyes, and her hand reached out to grasp the nurse’s hand. ‘Ada …’ she sighed.

  Taking her pulse, Ada cried urgently, ‘She’s freezing! Come on, can you help me get her up? Here, take my cape and wrap it over the top of the coats – we’ve got to get her moving.’

  Clutching Shirley, who weighed very little, Ada and Emily supported her back across the blustery marsh.

  As they made their way home, with the icy wind almost blowing them off their feet, poor Emily panted with exhaustion. Seeing her tired, strained face, Ada spoke softly and very calmly. ‘You did well, Em: both of you girls have been very brave. Now I need to get you back to Mary Vale, where you will need to be checked, as well as poor Shirley. You’ve had quite an ordeal.’

  Rushing past the gaping girls who had gathered in the entrance hall to see what was going on, Ada and Emily hurried on to the main ward, where they gently lowered Shirley on to a vacant bed and quickly drew the curtains around her.

  ‘Shall we call an ambulance?’ Emily gasped as she stared at poor Shirley lying limply on the bed. ‘Or Dr Jones?’ she added desperately.

  ‘I don’t think we need an ambulance now that we’ve got her on to the ward,’ Ada assured her. ‘And as for Dr Jones,’ she added cryptically, ‘I’m not quite sure how helpful he might be.’

  Knowing of the doctor’s drinking habits, Emily gave a quick nod.

  ‘I can take care of her,’ Ada said with cool professional confidence. ‘But you, madam,’ she said with mock severity, ‘need to get out of those wet clothes and into a hot bath immediately.’

  Stripping off Shirley’s soaking-wet clothes, Ada laid hot-water bottles in the bed, then gently wiped her face and body dry with several warm towels. Feeling the warmth slowly returning to her patient’s skin, she slipped a snug winceyette nightdress over Shirley’s shoulders and settled her back on the bed, which was piled high with blankets.

  ‘Better?’ she asked softly, as she tucked Shirley up.

  Shirley’s eyelids fluttered open. ‘I wanted to die,’ she confessed in a tiny whisper. ‘I’m sorry …’ she said, as her voice trailed away.

  Rearranging the hot-water bottles around Shirley, Ada soothed her fretful patient. ‘Shhh, now, snuggle down and keep warm while I get you something to eat and a nice cup of tea.’

  No sooner had she stepped out from behind the curtains than she saw Sister Ann hurrying towards her, an anguished look on her face.

  ‘She’s alive,’ Ada quickly told her.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Sister Ann replied, as she proceeded to roll back her sleeves and wash her hands in the large sink. ‘I’ll take over from here, Ada – you’re needed elsewhere.’

  Ada threw the nun a puzzled look. ‘What?’

  ‘Isla’s gone into labour,’ Sister Ann explained.

  ‘She’s three weeks early!’ Ada exclaimed.

  ‘Her waters broke just after you left,’ Sister Ann added. ‘She’s in the delivery room.’ The nun gave a knowing smile. ‘She’s asked for you,’ she said.

  Ada set off at a run. ‘Get Shirley some food, Ann, and some hot sweet tea,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘And keep the hot-water bottles going.’

  Sister Ann found Shirley fast asleep, and, as she tenderly brushed mud from her streaky wet hair, she couldn’t help but notice the girl’s neck and pinched little face were covered with black-and-blue bruises. Hot tears stung the back of her eyes as she imagined the horrors Shirley must have endured once she arrived back home.

  ‘My poor girl,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll look after you now, I promise.’

  Briefly leaving Shirley peacefully sleeping, Sister Ann hurried to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea. She stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the kitchen and saw Matron there, looking extremely irritated.

  ‘Where have you put the wretched girl?’ she snapped.

  ‘On the ward, of course,’ the nun retorted. ‘Isla and Gloria found her half dead on the marsh.’

  ‘If she was half dead why was she brought here?’ Matron fumed. ‘Why not the local hospital?’

  Sister Ann gave her a pitiful look. ‘Because w
e take care of the ones we love,’ she answered with sweet simplicity. ‘And,’ she added pointedly, ‘she trusts us. And thanks to young Emily and Isla, she survived her awful ordeal.’

  After the nun had left bearing a loaded tray, Matron swore out loud. ‘Damnation!’ she cried, thumping the tabletop. ‘Just when I thought I’d got rid of her!’

  In the delivery room, Ada was monitoring Isla’s contractions, which were already starting to come regularly and with increasing ferocity.

  ‘How’s Shirley?’ she gasped in between two of her contractions, when she could just about think straight.

  ‘She’s sleeping off her terrible experience; you did a wonderful job,’ Ada assured her sweating patient. ‘You and Emily saved Shirley’s life.’

  ‘And I went into early labour as a consequence,’ Isla said, with an anxious expression on her face. ‘We were both running around like things possessed on the marsh,’ she admitted guiltily.

  Ada patted her hand. ‘Nothing to worry about: a week or two either side of the due date is neither here nor there,’ she said with a confident professional ease that immediately put her patient’s mind at rest.

  Isla gave a sad sigh. ‘What could have happened to the poor kid once she left here?’

  Ada shook her head. ‘That’s for Shirley to tell us in her own good time.’ As another contraction gripped Isla’s body, she said gently, ‘Come on now. For the time being, let’s just concentrate on you and your baby.’

  Recalling the steady breathing Sister Ann had taught in her classes, Isla took some long, deep breaths; she hoped her baby wouldn’t take too long to come into the world, which was all the better a place for having Shirley back at Mary Vale where she rightly belonged.

  28. Heather

  Though born nearly three weeks early, Isla’s daughter was a good, healthy weight; she had her mother’s silvery-blonde hair and her eyes promised to be as blue as Isla’s. Ada smiled softly as she cradled the sweet little girl she’d brought into the world.

  ‘She’s beautiful,’ she congratulated Isla, who lay back exhausted after a long and difficult breech birth. ‘I was worried you might need a C-section, or that at least I’d need to use forceps, but your clever daughter suddenly turned herself around and saved me the trouble.’

  Isla smiled feebly. ‘Every time I saw those wretched forceps I thought I was going to die,’ she admitted.

  ‘Don’t worry about all that now,’ Ada urged cheerfully. ‘You have a strong, healthy baby you can be proud of.’

  ‘For now,’ Isla said with a catch in her throat.

  Familiar with the sadness and regret that often swamped the young mothers who would be parting with their babies shortly after the trials of childbirth, Ada quickly popped Isla’s baby into a bassinet. ‘I’ll take her into the nursery while you get some sleep.’

  Isla nodded gratefully. ‘Please, will you let my grandmother know?’ she asked as her eyelids drooped.

  ‘Of course, dear, rest now,’ Ada said softly.

  Wheeling the tiny new baby into the nursery, Ada felt a sudden stab of sadness; usually, she had no problem in acknowledging that adoption was the best alternative for most of the babies born at Mary Vale, but, looking at Isla’s sleeping daughter, she felt differently. Isla’s grandmother, Jeannie, was a free-thinking, independent woman of means and Isla was a clever young woman with a fine future ahead of her: between them, they’d make a splendid job of rearing a child. Ada gave an audible sigh of regret; it was not meant to be. The die had been cast and Baby Ross was destined for another life far away from her mother and her remarkable grandmother too.

  Though weak as a kitten herself, Shirley insisted that she paid a visit to one of the women who had saved her life. Seeing how desperate she was to see Isla, Sister Ann pushed Shirley on to the ward in a wheelchair and left the two women to have their own private conversation.

  ‘I’m sorry I put you to so much trouble,’ Shirley said nervously. ‘No wonder you had your little girl early,’ she added guiltily. ‘Running across the marsh in the driving rain, trying to save my life – it couldn’t have done you any good.’

  ‘It was worth it, just to see you here, alive and well,’ Isla replied with tears in her eyes. Embarrassed but nevertheless determined to know the truth, Isla asked in a whisper, ‘What happened, Shirley?’

  Looking tense, Shirley reached under her pillows. ‘I had this letter that I wrote in my coat pocket; it was addressed to Sister Ann,’ she said, as she handed it to Isla. ‘She dried it out and gave it back to me, but only after she and Sister Ada had read it. I want you to read it later – you and Emily and Gloria too: you’re my friends and should all know the truth,’ she urged. ‘In private. It explains everything.’

  Taking the letter, Isla gave a bright, determined smile. ‘Well, all I can say is I’m glad we found you and saved you – the world would be a smaller place without you, Shirley.’

  Shirley looked at her for several long seconds. Genuinely puzzled, she asked, ‘Did people really miss me?’

  ‘You were missed so much,’ Isla answered passionately and truthfully.

  Looking flabbergasted, Shirley again said, ‘Really?’

  ‘YES!’ Isla laughed. ‘You’re part of Mary Vale’s furniture! Without your cute, smiling face peeping over the teapot every morning, we all felt glum,’ she joked.

  Shirley gave an incredulous smile. ‘I’m so lucky!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘I’d personally fund you to stay on here at Mary Vale for the rest of your life,’ Isla said, and she meant it too. ‘But if they can’t have you, I’m sure I could persuade my grandmother to give you a roof over your head until we found work for you locally.’

  Shirley’s wide eyes glistened with tears. ‘Would you REALLY do that for me, Isla?’

  Isla hugged her tight. ‘Of course – we’re friends, aren’t we?’

  Isla, Gloria and Emily read Shirley’s letter in private the next morning, when Emily and Gloria dropped by to visit the baby, who had been named Heather, on the maternity ward. With the curtains drawn tightly, they sat close together on the edge of the bed, where, in silence, broken only by their gasps and cries of dismay, they read Shirley’s suicide note.

  Dear Sister Ann,

  I’m grateful to Gloria and Robin for helping me to learn to read and write, I know I am a bad speller but I can write enough to tell you my story in my own true words. Sister Ann, I have made up my mind, I don’t want to live on this earth any more. I want to go to God, who I know loves me as I love him. I wish I could have died before I left Mary Vale, because I knew what was in store for me. But after Matron kicked me out I had no choice but to go back to the home I hate. Dearest Sister Ann, there’s something else I need to tell you all, something really important. I witnessed something quite wrong the night before I left; I was going to tell you at the time but Matron made sure I was well gone before I could speak to anybody about what I witnessed.

  ‘Oh, God!’ Emily murmured. ‘My skin’s starting to creep.’

  That night, I was half dozing in the kitchen, waiting for the bread to rise, when I saw Matron sneak out the back way in the middle of the night. Even though I’m scared to death of the woman, something made me follow her outside, where I crouched down behind a bush and watched her. I saw her lay a small bundle on the passenger seat of her car, and I thought it stirred, then I distinctly heard a baby crying and, as God’s my judge, I would swear on the Bible that the baby was Tom; believe me, I’ve heard him wailing often enough when I’ve been cleaning in the nursery. When Matron drove away in the dead of night with no headlights on, I had no choice but to follow.

  After they’d read open-mouthed about the events of that fateful night, the girls were visibly shocked.

  ‘She was brave!’ Emily exclaimed. ‘I don’t think I would have had the courage to follow Matron in the dark.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Gloria said. ‘I’d be terrified.’

  I prayed I’d get safely back home without Matron seein
g me but she caught me in the kitchen, soaked to the skin and muddy, and she started asking me questions. I made some excuse, but I knew in my gut she didn’t believe me for a minute, and it turns out I was right to be scared. Matron sent me packing the next morning before I could see any of you to pass on what I saw at the Grange. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to the people I love. She told me to get out or she’d have the police on me! There was nothing I could do but go back home.

  With a face like thunder, Isla looked up from the letter she was clutching in her shaking hands. ‘That damn cold-hearted bitch of a matron,’ she swore.

  ‘She kicked out poor little Shirley because she’d seen her up to no good,’ Emily seethed.

  ‘She did it to protect herself!’ Gloria cried.

  Isla, with the bit now firmly between her teeth, declared, ‘Well, girls! Wouldn’t it be interesting to get to the bottom of whatever it was Matron was up to that night?’

  Emily agreed. ‘It’s obviously a secret she’s keen to keep, because Shirley paid such a high price for it,’ she said grimly.

  Galvanized, Isla was in war mood. ‘Then we have an obligation to find out what it is, for Shirley’s sake. The poor girl’s back here; we don’t want her picked on again!’

  ‘Please, let’s finish the letter,’ Gloria begged.

  I hope you don’t mind, Sister Ann, that I’ve chosen to drown myself. That way the pain will stop and I can go to sleep in heaven with the angels that you told me about. I loved your stories, Sister Ann. I hope God will forgive me for drowning myself, I will explain to him why I was forced to do such a bad thing, he might understand. I want to end my life close to you, the mother I never had, in the only place I’ve ever felt safe, Mary Vale, my one true home.

  Forgive me, Sister Ann.

  Your loving servant,

  Shirley

  ‘God! The poor kid!’ Isla murmured, folding the letter and returning it to its dirty, crumpled envelope.

  ‘Christ! Who can blame her for wanting to end it all?’ Gloria said with a sob.

 

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