Authors: Annie Groves
Ellie burst out laughing. I hope we may see each other before then Connie!'
We shall see one another as often as we can. I shall bring Lyddy to see you on my days off, Ellie.'
And I shall make frequent visits to Liverpool to make sure you have not disappeared, even if I have to beard your dragon of a Matron in the hospital itself, in order to do so!'
Yer want a room, yer say?'
Tiredly, Connie hitched Lyddy a little higher onto her hip. Disconcertingly she had discovered that it was not going to be as easy to find lodgings as she had assumed.
It was now nearly evening, and she had been trudging from lodging house to lodging house for what seemed like hours, only to be turned away by landladies who had made it plain that they were not prepared to let rooms to a woman with a child, even if the Queen herself was prepared to speak for her, never mind a mere Matron.
âSorry, but I âaven't any vacancies. Where's yer man?' she demanded suspiciously.
Connie had had enough. Holding Lydia tightly, she told her fiercely, âI'm a widow. A nurse looking for accommodation so that I can go back to work! There are soldiers dying because there isn't anyone to nurse them. Do you want to have that on your conscience?'
Conscience, is it!' The other woman sniffed
tossing her head. âWell, I've never heard of no nurses needing to find a room â lives at the âorspital they do. And, any road, I only take single, respectable lodgers, and they don't want their sleep disturbed by crying babies. She folded her arms over her chest and added sharply, âAnd if you was a nurse, what would you be expectin' to do with er whilst you was workin?
âThe same as other working mothers, Connie told her equally sharply. âThere must be someone round here who minds children?
âMebbe there is, and mebbe there isn't, but yer ain't bringing âer ere!
Connie's arm ached from holding Lyddy, and she thought longingly of the comfort of Ellie's home.
âThere must be someone who will rent me lodgings, she pressed.
âOh, aye, plenty, the other woman agreed. âThere's a woman on the next street who'd like as not take yer â glad of anyone she is, wi' that mad brother o' hers to look after. Should be in Bedlam by rights, he should.
The next street, she'd said, but as Connie checked the list she'd been given before turning wearily toward it, she could not find any lodgings listed for it.
Remembering the horror of some of the lodgings she had shared with Kieron, she hesitated, but then Lydia, tired and hungry, started to wail.
Comforting her as best she could, she started to
walk down the street until she came to a window with a Vacancies' sign in it.
The house looked clean enough, she acknowledged, as she studied the polished windows and immaculate doorstep.
Hesitantly she knocked on the door and waited.
The woman who answered it, looked at her a little apprehensively.
âI'm looking for rooms,' Connie told her. âThere's just me and the baby, and I'll be wanting someone to keep an eye on her for me whilst I'm at work. I'm a nurse, up at the Infirmary â¦'
Lydia gave a hungry wail, and Connie's heart sank as she waited for the woman to turn her away, but instead her thin face lit up and she exclaimed, Oh, poor little thing! You'd better come in and I'll show you the rooms. They're on the second floor, a bedroom and a parlour. If you want meals then it will be extra.'
When Connie followed her up a flight of immaculately clean stairs her heart started to lift. To her relief the two small rooms were pin neat and clean, the furniture simple but adequate.
âI'm Nora Barstow, by the way.'
Connie Pr ⦠Smith,' Connie introduced herself.
âI'll take the rooms, Mrs Barstow, and I'll pay you the rent now,' she added quickly, worried that the landlady might change her mind. But the woman looked as relieved as Connie felt.
I'm not married. It's just me and my brother
living here, and I'd prefer it if you was to call me Nora, if that's all right with you.'
She sounded almost shyly hesitant, and Connie found herself warming to her. She was certainly very different from any of the other prospective landladies she had encountered during the day.
âI've left my boxes at the station, Connie told her. âI'll have to find a carter to bring them here for me.
âWell, my brother will probably do that for you. He's out at the moment. She gave Connie a hesitant look, and told her awkwardly, âI should perhaps warn you that he isn't quite ⦠That is to say ⦠Well, no matter what other folks round here think, he was as right in the head as anyone else before he went off to the War, but now â¦
âIt's all right, Nora, Connie reassured her gently. âI'm a nurse, and I've seen what the War can do to even the bravest of men.
But inside, Connie admitted to feeling a little wary, and questioning the wisdom of her decision to lodge with the Barstows. Not on her own account, so much as on Lydia s.
âI've got a couple of days before I start work at the hospital but you needn't worry that I shall be under your feet. I need to find someone I can leave Lydia with whilst I'm out at work.
âWell there's Cassie Halkowes over on Neville Terrace. She takes in bairns for women whilst they re working. There's a lot of women round here working at the munitions factory. But I would
be quite happy to mind her for you,' she offered eagerly. I've got a bit of time on me hands and I don't mind admitting I'd welcome the company.
Aye, and I could teach her her letters and that once she gets old enough. Taught at Sunday school, I did,' she informed Connie proudly, before adding with a small sigh, of course things were different in them days. Me mam and da were alive for one thing, and this was a respectable area then, with most folks owning their own houses. It's all changed now. Most of the houses round here have been bought up and are landlord-owned, and it's never the same once that happens. Tenants don't have the same pride in a place if it's not their own.'
Nora was lonely Connie guessed, and probably part of her loneliness stemmed from the fact that her neighbours shunned her on account of her brother. She would have to reserve judgement on whether or not the house was going to be a suitable place for Lydia until after she had met him, she acknowledged, as she gratefully accepted Nora's offer of a cup of tea and a bite to eat.
You can come down and have it with me if you want. It's warmer downstairs in the kitchen.'
I'll be right down,' Connie thanked her. Just as soon as I've got Lyddy sorted out.'
It had been a long day, and half an hour later, comfortably ensconced in the rocking chair Nora had insisted on her having, Lydia already asleep in her arms, Connie could feel her own eyes closing.
Her stomach felt pleasantly full of the homemade chicken soup Nora had given her, and the kitchen was wonderfully warm, its floor clean enough to eat off. Lydia had devoured the bowl of porridge Connie had fed her. She was coming up for six months now and Connie had been weaning her in preparation for her return to work. Connie still breastfed her at night though, as much for her own sake as the baby s, since she cherished the opportunity to nurture her.
If it weren't for her concern about Nora's brother she would have thought she had really fallen on her feet, Connie admitted.
Reluctantly rousing herself, she told Nora, âI'd better take Lyddy up and put her to bed, then I'll come down and give you a hand with those dishes.
âYou'll do no such thing! You look worn out yourself,' Nora told her firmly. She gave a small frown. âI was expecting Davie to have been back before now, and you wanting your boxes.
âThey can wait until morning, Connie assured her calmly. âI've got enough with me for tonight.
Her bed was as comfortable and clean as the rest of the house, its sheets smelling of fresh lavender, and as she snuggled into its warmth, Connie breathed a sleepy sigh of relief.
Tomorrow she would telephone Ellie and reassure her that all was well, and that she had found somewhere comfortable to live. She had written to Josie to say that she planned to return to the
Infirmary, having received letters from her and from some of the other nurses as well, which Iris had brought with her to Winckley Square after one of her regular visits to Liverpool.
There had been a letter amongst them from Mavis too, a stilted wish for Connie's future happiness and for her safe delivery â the kind of note one might receive from an acquaintance rather than a close friend, and Connie had agonised over how she should reply to it.
She might be reconciled with her sister, but the loving relationship she now had with Ellie, rather than taking away the ache of pain the break in her friendship with Mavis had caused her, had somehow underlined it. The truth was that she missed Mavis for herself, and not just because she was Harry's sister. But she was reluctant to do anything to try to re-establish their old friendship.
For one thing, Mavis was bound to want to ask her questions about Lyddy's father, and why she had said nothing to her about meeting him and marrying him, and for another ⦠For another, much as she yearned to be with her friend, Connie dreaded hearing about Rosa and Rosa's child â
Harry's child!
So she had written back to Mavis in an equally stilted fashion thanking her for her concern, and informing her of her plans.
Her feet ached a little, and her last drowsy thought as she snuggled into her comfortable bed was the wry one that if they ached now, that was
nothing to how they were going to feel after her first week back on the wards.
It was the sound of men fighting outside in the street that woke her. The room was in darkness and for a moment she couldn't understand where she was. The sounds of men brawling took her back in time. But then Lydia gave a small wail, and she realised with relief that she was not back with Kieron in some filthy tenement building, but tucked up snugly in a room still warm from the now dying fire Nora had insisted on lighting for her.
Exhaling in relief, she pulled Lydia closer to her, and then checked, as she heard the front door being opened followed by the sound of Nora's frightened voice as she pleaded, above the noise of punches and sobs of terrified pain, âNo. Please don't hurt him. Please let him go!'
Ignoring the small inner voice warning her not to get involved, Connie threw back the bedclothes and pulled on the thick dressing gown Ellie had given her for Christmas, to run to the window.
Down below in the street she could see a small group of men bending over another man who was lying at their feet. He had curled into a ball as he tried to protect himself from their fists and feet, whilst Nora tried impotently to push them away.
Guessing that the man being attacked must be her brother, Connie reacted more out of instinct than anything else. She pushed open her window
and threw the contents of the ewer of water she had used to wash her hands and face in before going to bed, over the nearest of the men.
The water hit him full in the face, and as he looked up at the window, Connie called out sharply, âIt'll be the chamber pot next, and if you lot wake my man up you'll soon know about it. Just back from the Front he is, where every decent man ought to be, not fighting in the street.'
Whilst they stood and stared up warily at her, Connie could see Nora helping her brother to his feet and dragging him inside. If the men chose to follow her and force their way into the house ⦠Fiercely, Connie closed her mind to that thought.
To her relief, another couple of windows in the street were being opened, and irate voices demanded to know what was going on.
Hastily she closed her own window, and having checked to make sure that Lydia was asleep, hurried through their bedroom door to the top of the stairs. She could see Nora in the hallway bent over her brother, who was groaning.
âNora, have you locked the door? she called out.
âYes! Oh, Connie. Thank you. I'd never have got Davie away from them if you hadn't been so quick-thinking. They've half killed him as it is.
âI'll come down and have a look at him, Connie told her, hurrying down the stairs. âDo you think we can get him into the kitchen, so that we can clean him up a bit?
I'll try, but he's so afraid of them, I don't think he realises that he's safe yet. Davie, it's all right. You're safe now with Nora. Let's get you into the kitchen, love, and get you cleaned up a bit.'
The man crouching on the floor, his hands over his head, started to shake and moan, No ⦠No â¦', and then suddenly he made a sound like a burst of machine-gun fire.
Oh, Davie. Love, no, not that. Don't pay any attention, Connie â¦' Nora was saying, but Connie ignored her to cross the hall and kneel down.
âJinx?' she questioned gently.
Slowly he removed one hand from his head and then the other, and then turned his face toward her.
Angry pity clutched at Connie's heart as she saw how badly he had been beaten. Even in the dim light from the hallway it was possible to see the deep cuts steel-toed boots had made in the flesh just above his eye and his cheek, right across the telltale scar. One eye was already discolouring, and blood was trickling from the corner of his mouth.
It's Sister Pride, Nora,' he suddenly started babbling thickly, pulling on Nora's arm rather as a child might have done.
âYou know my brother?' Nora asked Connie warily.
He was on my ward for a while when I was at the Infirmary,' Connie informed her.
Kind,' Jinx, or Davie, as she now realised he was called, whispered and touched Connie's arm, kind.'
âHe told me about the nurse who was kind to him, Nora told her emotionally. âNot that it's always easy to understand properly just what he is trying to say. But he doesn't mean any harm, Connie ⦠I know they say round here that he's mad and should be locked up in Bedlam, but there was nothing wrong with him before he went off to war, Nora told her angrily, repeating what she had said earlier. âChanged him it did, and no mistake. But I can't just have him put away. I promised me mother I wouldn't for one thing, and for another ⦠Like as not he'd be dead within a fortnight if he didn't have me to look after him.