The District Nurses of Victory Walk. Annie GrovesЧитать онлайн книгу.
it back into its usual neat bun when there was a knock on her door.
‘Come—’ she began, but before she could even finish her sentence, in burst a young woman in nurse’s uniform, big blue eyes gazing at Alice with frank curiosity.
‘Are you Miss Lake? I’m Mary Perkins and I’ve got the room at the end of this corridor,’ the new arrival announced. ‘Sorry, you’re needed already. Only this minute got here, haven’t you? I’ve been here for two months so I can show you the ropes. We’ll get to know each other properly later, but if your bag is all ready to go, you’d better come with me.’
‘I’m Alice,’ said Alice, grabbing her bag, which she’d prepared in advance, and reaching for her navy coat. ‘But I haven’t got a bike yet.’
‘Not to worry, it’ll be around the side, they always are,’ said Mary Perkins, who Alice judged to be about Edith’s age, a couple of years younger than herself. ‘This house is a doddle to find, and you’ll be going there often if I’m any judge, and I can tell you right now I’m pretty good at guessing these things.’ She set off at a great pace and it was all Alice could do to keep up as her new colleague dashed along the narrow attic corridor and down the main set of stairs.
‘No running! Nurse Perkins, is that you?’ came a grim voice from the storey below.
‘Bloody old busybody,’ Mary muttered under her breath, but she did at least slow to a fast walk. ‘Have you met Gwen yet? No? Well, you soon will. She’s Fiona’s deputy, but don’t pay her any mind. Look, this is the way to the side door, it’ll save you time. That’s the district room, and that’s the drying room for your cloak when you’ve been out in the rain, but you can see all that later.’ She ducked around a corner and led Alice out into a sunny yard.
Alice realised that – as it was on the corner of the road – the nurses’ home had a large area to the side. One wall had been turned into an informal bike shed, with a light timber roof balanced on the top ridge, and a makeshift rack propped so that a dozen or so cycles could be stored beneath it. Mary made her way along and paused at the end. ‘These are the spare bikes – one for you and one for the other new nurse.’
‘How can you tell? They all look alike,’ Alice wondered.
‘We all put something on our bike to show it’s ours. We’re not meant to but we do.’ Mary pointed to a bike at the far end. ‘See the one with the bit of blue ribbon around the bell? That’s mine. Silly really, but when I was walking out with this chap, he said I looked lovely in blue because it went with my eyes, so I got myself some ribbon to trim my hat, and that was what was left over. Turns out the ribbon lasted longer than he did.’ She shrugged, not overly concerned. ‘I say, have you got a chap?’
Alice took a step back. She wasn’t accustomed to such direct questions from someone she’d only just met. ‘No,’ she said shortly and then, realising it sounded rude to be so abrupt, ‘I haven’t had time, after studying so hard. Anyway, I didn’t spend all those years training just to give it up to get married.’
‘Quite right,’ said Mary. ‘Only I wish they weren’t quite so strict about the rules. In by ten o’clock, no men on the premises, there’s hardly any fun to be had. Still, if you aren’t bothered about that then that’s all right.’
Alice thought that Edith would find a way around the restrictions within the week, if her past history was anything to go by. But she didn’t offer that piece of information to Mary. Instead she asked, ‘Where am I going now?’
‘Jeeves Place,’ said Mary. ‘It’s hard to miss. You go back the way you’d have come this morning as far as the high road. Go straight over – that’s Jeeves Street. The road one further down, parallel to it, is Jeeves Place. Easy. Number nine. Patient’s name is Kathleen Berry, well, that’s the mother. Not sure what her baby’s called.’
‘I expect I’ll find out soon, then,’ said Alice, placing her leather bag in the basket of the bike and pushing it carefully towards the side gate. ‘Wish me luck. If I’m not back by teatime, send out a search party.’
‘Will do.’ Mary waved cheerfully and her lively rich brown curls bobbed around her face.
Kathleen Berry tried to shut out the sounds of her baby son’s screaming. She’d tried picking him up and carrying him around, changing his nappy, offering him cold water, feeding him herself, taking him outside, bringing him back in. Nothing helped and now he was working himself up into a proper state. He lay in his makeshift cot, waving his fists in the air, his face an angry red. She didn’t know what to do. She hoped the nurse would get here soon. She was so frightened.
Her mum had told her not to have anything to do with Ray Berry, that he was a feckless charmer who’d love her and leave her. Kathleen had defended him staunchly. He’d never treat her like that, her mother was just listening to the gossipy old women who had nothing better to do than spread cruel rumours that were without foundation. They were just jealous because they weren’t young any more and had probably never had the attention of a man as good-looking as her Ray. She knew he’d do right by her.
And Ray had – she had his ring on her finger to prove it. No matter how tough things got she was never tempted to pawn it – it was too precious to her, it stood for everything they’d promised to each other. He’d done his best to provide for her but it hadn’t been easy. People were too quick to believe the gossip and he found it hard to get regular work. One day he’d told her he was going down the docks to see if anything was to be found there, and that had been the last she’d seen of him. One of his mates had dropped round to say he’d signed up for a merchant ship and had set sail that very day. It was too good a chance for him to miss.
Kathleen knew he’d be back, but the trouble was he hadn’t sent home regular wages. She was never sure what she would get, if anything at all, but she hated to ask anyone for help. She hadn’t known for certain that she was pregnant before he left – she didn’t want to get it wrong and so she’d waited to tell him. He’d set sail without realising he was soon to become a father.
Now she was stuck with little Brian in this rundown house, which was all she could afford, although if truth be told she couldn’t really even do that. She didn’t even have the whole place to herself – she had the ground floor, with its badly lit front room, cramped kitchen and even more cramped back kitchen, with its doorway into the back yard where there was an outside privy, shared by several families. Upstairs lived the Coynes, who trampled around on the bare boards with no regard of her need to sleep. Then again, they heard Brian’s cries all day and night as clearly as she did.
‘Shush, shush,’ she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. ‘Mummy’s here. The kind nurse will come soon, she’ll make everything better, just you wait and see.’ She fervently hoped this was true. Wearily she leaned over the baby and took him up into her arms again, noting that he was still far too hot. ‘Mummy’s going to stand in the door with you, see if that cools you down.’ She shoved open the flaking front door and leant on the creaky frame, grateful for the light breeze to fan their faces, even if it blew rubbish down the narrow street. Bits of old newspaper tumbled by. She was so tired she could have slept standing up, if she didn’t have little Brian to look after.
Brian’s cries gradually turned to sad whimpers, but she knew it was because he was too tired to cry lustily any more rather than because he felt better. Anxiously she pressed her hand to his forehead. No, still hot. It wasn’t right. Why was he like this? Was it something she’d done, or hadn’t done?
Kathleen bit down on her lower lip. It wouldn’t help if she went to pieces. It wasn’t as if she had many people to turn to. Her mother would say it served her right for marrying that good-for-nothing. Besides, her mother had four other children to see to, and three more grandchildren to fuss over. Kathleen knew she was a fair way down the list of her mother’s priorities. Sometimes she wondered if she’d been switched at birth as she couldn’t remember a time when she and her mother had got along. They were just too different, even before she’d met Ray. She knew she was quieter, more serious than her mother, who had a loud