A Mother's Gift (13 page)

‘Don’t stand there dreaming, Nurse!’

The voice from the doorway made her start. She hurriedly turned off the tap before the water reached the level prescribed and turned to face the voice of authority.

‘You are very untidy, Nurse, your hair is coming down
out
of your cap. Go and see to it at once,’ said Matron. She advanced into the sluice and looked around critically. The enamel bedpans in their rows gleamed and the wooden benches were scrubbed and bare. Matron, however, did not look pleased or even satisfied. She looked at the rubber apron, which Katie wore over her uniform; the way her sleeves were rolled up above her elbows and the roll covered with white elastic cuffs and sniffed.

‘Go and tidy yourself, Nurse,’ she repeated and swept out into the ward.

Katie, in the little room with row of cloaks hanging along one wall, stood by the mirror on the opposite wall and took off her cap. She combed her hair up and twisted it into a roll and pinned it securely with hairgrips and replaced her cap. Then she sighed and looked at her reflection, taking a few seconds for herself. Her cap was a bit too big for her face, she thought, it did nothing for her looks at all. Her face was pale and there were shadows under her eyes, dear God, she was tired.

Outside she could hear Matron talking, her voice loud and commanding. Sister was answering, sounding so different from when she was talking to her nurses. Chain of command thought Katie and smiled at herself in the mirror. She wouldn’t always be on the lowest rung. One day, she would be at the top. Squaring her shoulders she went out to the sluice and picked up her bucket.

‘Mrs Jones needs a bedpan, Nurse,’ said Sister as the main door of the ward closed after Matron. ‘What do you think you’re doing, wasting your time in the cloakroom?’

‘Yes, Sister,’ Katie mumbled and put down the bucket
and
brought a bedpan, suitably covered with a lavatory cloth. In the ward the sun had disappeared and the sky through the newly shined windows was grey and menacing. Suddenly they were glad of the heat from the stoves and Doris Teasdale was calling for a hot-water bottle. By four o’clock the ward was restored to a gleaming, pristine condition and waiting for Mr Hobson to fling open the door and sweep in, followed by Mr Caine and the houseman.

At six o’clock, wrapped round with her thick cloak, Katie walked around the building before going inside for supper. She was happy, because tomorrow was her day off and tonight was her evening off and Billy was coming to see her. Not that they were doing anything in particular, just going to the second house at the pictures which she would probably have to leave before the end to get back into the Nurses’ Home before curfew. But her heart lifted at the thought of seeing Billy. He was so good, coming all this way after his own day at work.

Billy was a fully fledged surveyor now, a figure to be looked up to in Winton Colliery, an official. He was talking of getting a car and not a second-hand one either but a new car, a Standard Big 9. ‘Then I’ll be able to pop over to see you often,’ he had said. ‘Would you like that?’

Katie had looked at him; he had a quizzical expression, almost, as though he wasn’t sure if she would like it or not.

‘Of course,’ she had replied. ‘You know I will. But … you know I don’t have that much free time, Billy. And it’s a long way just for an hour or so.’

‘Maybe I’ll be able to transfer to a mine closer to the hospital,’ said Billy. ‘Next year, perhaps.’

‘That would be lovely, Billy,’ Katie had replied.

Tonight he was staying at his aunt’s house; tomorrow they were going to travel back to Winton together. Oh, it was grand, a whole twenty-four hours away from the hospital. And then, next week, she was starting on A Ward, which was men’s surgical. That would be something new again.

Billy did not come. Katie waited by the telephone in the entrance for his call; he had said he would ring her; for her not to wait about outside in the cold. She went out to the front of the Nurses’ Home and peered down the drive but there was no sign of him. She put on her coat and hat and wound her scarf around her neck for this evening, after the spring sunshine, there was a ground frost and the cold air was sharp and penetrating. She walked down the drive and said ‘Good evening,’ to the porter and he watched her go out of the gates and look up and down the road. She walked up and down a few times and then came back into the grounds and went past the porter and back into the Nurses’ Home.

Katie hesitated in the hall of the Home and gazed at the telephone in the corner, partitioned off by a dark brown box with glass in the top and a brass handle on the door. She counted the twists in the cord that hung from the receiver to the handset, willing it to ring. She had a dread rising in her and it was silly, she told herself. What had she to dread? Billy had missed the bus that was all, he
would
be here soon. She looked at the clock on the wall, it was half past seven, and the next bus would be in soon. Then he just had to get out from the bus stop on Borough Road, that would take fifteen minutes.

The thing to do was go into the nurses’ sitting-room and sit down in a comfortable chair, maybe read a magazine. She could hear the telephone from there couldn’t she?

There was only one person in the sitting-room, a second-year nurse listening to a broadcast by the BBC. The ether crackled and hummed and the nurse fiddled with the knobs, trying to get decent reception. She looked up as Katie went in.

‘You’d think you’d be able to hear this modern set better than the old one, wouldn’t you,’ she said. ‘I particularly wanted to hear this programme, it’s a concert from the Albert Hall.’

Suddenly the crackling subsided and a man’s voice was heard.

‘… death toll would have been more but it was the end of a shift and most of the men were on their way out of the mine. Consequently, there were only twelve miners killed in the explosion, which was confined to one face. We return you now to the concert …’

‘What was that? What was it?’ Katie demanded of the girl by the wireless. A Strauss waltz filled the room, the music light and lilting.

‘What?’ the girl looked irritated as she looked up but then she saw Katie’s face. ‘Hadn’t you heard? There’s been an accident at a colliery near Bishop
Auckland
. Wilton, was it? No, of course not, Witton? No—’

Katie was no longer listening, she had run out into the hall. But then she didn’t know what to do. How could she find out? She looked at the telephone but the only telephone she was aware of in Winton was the Post Office one and the Post Office would be closed. Though of course, there were the pit offices. She went into the dark wooden box and lifted the handset, getting close into the mouthpiece on the wall to make herself heard. The front door banged behind her and two nurses walked past, laughing and talking and she glared at them. But the operator was answering.

‘I’m sorry caller, the line is engaged.’

Katie hung up the telephone and stared at it, trying to think. It might not be Winton, she might be imagining things. But why was Billy not here as he had said he would be? She tried again.

‘Get me the number of Winton Colliery office please.’

And after a moment or two, the operator’s voice told her again that the line was engaged.

‘Can you get me Mr Matthew Hamilton, please?’

‘What address is that, caller?’

Katie thought hard, the address of Mrs Hamilton had been on her notes, she had looked at it in curiosity really. Where was it? ‘Hamilton Hall, North York,’ she said hesitantly.

‘There’s a Hamilton Hall, Guisborough?’

‘Yes, that’s it.’

‘Please insert tuppence, caller.’

Katie fumbled in her purse and found the coins and put them in the box.

As the telephone rang out Katie had a moment of panic and was about to put it down but it was too late, it was answered.

‘Hamilton Hall,’ a man’s voice said and she pressed button A.

‘Can I speak to Mr Hamilton?’

‘Who wishes to speak to him?’

‘Just tell him – never mind, he won’t know my name,’ said Katie. He probably wouldn’t speak to her now. ‘Tell him it’s Nurse Benfield,’ she said, ‘I nurse at South-East Durham General.’

‘One moment, please.’

A minute or two later she heard Matthew’s voice on the other end of the line. He would help, she was sure he would.

‘Mr Hamilton? It’s me, Katie Benfield. I’m sorry to disturb you but I thought you might have heard something. I know I’ve no right to disturb you. I’m sorry …’ (Oh, pull yourself together, she told herself. Stop apologising.)

‘Nurse Benfield. You’ve heard then,’ said Matthew. The message had been waiting for him when he came into the house at six; he had been out of touch before that.

‘I have the situation in hand, Mr Hamilton,’ Parsons had said when he phoned. ‘Don’t worry; the damage is limited to the one face. It was probably the miners taking risks anyway. We may even find one of the young boys took in cigarettes and matches. I will keep you informed.’

The conversation ran through his mind as he listened to Katie’s halting voice on the line. But he couldn’t tell her anything; he wouldn’t get the list of dead and injured until tomorrow. When Parsons phoned in again. He had been looking forward to dinner and an evening spent before the fire in his study but he forgot about that.

‘Mr Hamilton? Are you there?’

‘Yes. Yes, I’m here, Nurse Benfield. There has been an accident, it’s true. I’m trying to get hold of the casualty list. Look, give me the number of the telephone you are using and I will ring back in ten minutes. Can you do that?’

‘Yes. Oh, thank you, Mr Hamilton,’ Katie was filled with gratitude for his concern. She put the telephone back in its cradle and went out of the box to stand close by. Music from the wireless filtered through the door from the sitting-room. Outside, white frost glistened in the light that shone on the tarmac from the glass inlet in the door. She watched it unseeingly, her mind concentrated on listening for the telephone.

A staff nurse came and went into the box and picked up the telephone, asked for a number. Katie watched in agony, terrified he would ring back and find the number engaged and not bother any more. But the staff nurse came out of the box and went into the sitting-room.

Matthew had lost no time in calling the colliery office at Winton. This was his chance to put himself in a good light with Katie Benfield and he wasn’t going to miss it. That would be where Parsons was he was sure. The agent would be engaged in preparing a statement for release to
the
papers, trying already to show that the management was not to blame for the accident. Yes, he would be there with Thompson.

‘Thompson? Is that you, man? Parsons there, is he? Well, put him on, man and be quick about it. Parsons? You have the casualty list then? Is it complete?’

‘I do,’ said Parsons, swiftly recovering from his surprise in hearing the ironmaster’s voice. ‘And I have to report that preliminary inquiries suggest that the accident was the fault of the men, bypassing safety precautions—’

‘Never mind that now,’ said Matthew. ‘Just give me the names, will you?’ He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently.

Noah Benfield was halfway down the list of names, just before those of David Canvey and James Dowson. ‘… and there is one official, a young surveyor. William Wright.’

‘Very well. Stay there, I am coming over. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.’

‘You’re coming over, sir?’

‘That’s what I said, didn’t I?’

Matthew rattled the receiver rest to get the attention of the operator. ‘Hartburn 40,’ he said when she answered.

Katie wrenched open the door of the box and picked up the telephone with trembling fingers. ‘Yes? Mr Hamilton?’

‘I’m afraid I have bad news, dear,’ he said.

‘Oh!’ Katie didn’t know what to say or think, there was a crashing and banging in her head and for a minute her
sight
dimmed to almost black. In the distance she heard his voice, the name of her grandfather.

‘Katie! Nurse Benfield! Listen, do as I say. Go to the office; tell whoever is in charge what has happened. No, don’t. I will call the office. You go to your room and wait. I will come for you and take you back to Winton. I … I have to go there in any case. Are you listening, Nurse Benfield? Will you do that?’

‘Yes,’ Katie managed to say before dropping the telephone and stumbling up the stairs to her room. She sat on the bed and waited obediently. After a while there was a knock on the door and she jumped up to open it, ready to rush out there and then and go with him to Winton. But it was not Mr Hamilton, it was Home Sister.

‘I’ve heard what happened, Nurse,’ she said. ‘Are you all right?’

She handed Katie a cup of tea and Katie took it and drank it obediently though it was sickly sweet with added sugar. But she heard nothing of what Sister was saying; all her attention was taken up with listening for Mr Hamilton coming to take her home. And then, at last, she heard his footsteps coming along the corridor.

LAWSON HAD NOT
been very happy about being ordered out on a cold dark night when he had already done a full day’s driving. He was looking forward to sitting in front of the fire, listening to the wireless and waiting for Daisy to sneak out and up the stone steps to his rooms above the stable. It was cosy there and he stretched his legs out to the blaze and loosened his belt a notch after the supper Cook had sent over for him. It wasn’t a bad life, he told himself. Though he had dreams of one day buying his own lorry and starting to work for himself. There was work to be had all right, he knew that. There were one or two owner drivers got in at the Cleveland Arms and he knew what they could make for themselves, hauling goods around the place and even further afield. Of course he would have to find his own accommodation.