A Child's Voice Calling (41 page)

‘Oh – ah, I see,’ he said quietly, managing a smile for the brother and sister. ‘I hope you enjoy your visit, Miss Court – Mr Court.’

Mabel was swiftly moved on by her aunt, and when they were away from the crowd around the door, Albert turned round and asked, ‘What d’yer reckon was up with ’
im
? Looked as if ’e’d suddenly seen a ghost.’

‘Ah, yes,’ murmured Aunt Nell who was standing nearby, and Mabel saw that her eyes were full of tears. ‘I’ll have a quiet word with you later, Mabel.’

They all ate Sunday dinner together at Pear Tree Cottage, and when it was finished Nell drew Mabel aside and took her out into the garden. ‘My dear Mabel, I feel that I should tell you something,’ she began. ‘As a young man our rector was in love with your mother; in fact, they were practically engaged. But then that man – your father – came on the scene. Father had engaged him to take our photographs, and as soon as Anna-Maria saw him she completely lost her head and never gave another thought to poor Mr Drummond. He was quite heartbroken and I’ll never forget his face when – oh, Mabel, it was dreadful – such a scandal.’

Mabel looked wordlessly at her aunt on hearing this incredible tale, or so it seemed to her. It showed yet another aspect of her mother, a wilful, flirtatious girl who had let her heart rule her head, spurning the
love of a worthy young man who adored her, in favour of the charming, improvident Jack Court. And to think how it had all ended . . .

‘And as you’re so like her as she was then, Mabel, Mr Drummond must have indeed thought he was seeing a . . . a ghost,’ said Nell sadly. ‘He was inconsolable at the time.’

‘But he married somebody else, didn’t he?’ Mabel pointed out. ‘The lady in the front pew.’

‘Yes, happily he went into the Church and married Miss Perrott as soon as he was ordained. But Anna-Maria was his first love and he’s never forgotten her, one could see that this morning.’

But now she’s dead, thought Mabel, only a ghost from the past. And Mr Drummond has got a wife and family.

Just as Harry Drover will, one day . . .

Before Mabel and Albert left Belhampton, Aunt Kate made her eldest niece an offer of a permanent home as her companion. ‘You’d be near to your sisters without having the responsibility for them, Mabel, and you’d benefit from a healthy country life. And I’d love to have you here at Pinehurst.’

There was a note of pleading in her words, and Mabel wondered if, like Mr Drummond, her aunt saw Anna-Maria in her niece and wanted to make amends for past unkindness. ‘It’s ever so kind o’ yer, Aunt Kate, but I’m goin’ to apply to train as a nurse, so I’d best go back to London, y’see.’

‘But Elinor and I can’t bear the thought of you going back to that dreadful woman at Tooting and staying in her house.’

‘It won’t be for much longer, Aunt, I can’t wait to escape! But I want to be a nurse above all else and I
need to get me general training done.’ She went on to explain that with Daisy back in Belhampton, she was now free to pursue her lifelong dream, and that her friend Miss Carter had advised applying to a Poor Law infirmary as the best option for a girl of her background, and that the training was free.

‘My dear Mabel, if it was a question of paying for you to train at a good hospital—’

‘No, Aunt Kate, you and Aunt Nell have done more ’n enough for us all,’ said Mabel quickly. ‘I’d rather go to Booth Street infirmary – I’d fit in better there, if yer see what I mean. But thank yer, Aunt Kate. I’ll never forget how kind ye’ve been – you and Aunt Nell and Uncle Thomas.’

Without being asked, Daisy willingly promised to settle down with her Hampshire relations. ‘I’ll be good this time, Mabel – I really
will
,’ she said and Mabel knew that at nine years old her sister had learned that there could be no going back to the old life. ‘I like bein’ here at Aunt Nell’s house better than Grandmother’s,’ she confessed. ‘Ye’re not goin’ to stay there for ever, are yer, Mabel?’

‘No, dear, I’m going to be a nurse and look after ill people.’

There were hugs and kisses and promises to write when the brother and sister boarded the London train, and although the parting was painful Mabel’s elation at the prospect of freedom from Macaulay Road buoyed her up; she was ready to face a furious outburst on her return without Daisy.

But Mimi was coldly dismissive, and hardly seemed surprised. ‘Hm. I thought as much, yer had it all planned with that foul-mouthed brother o’ yours,
didn’t yer? She’d better not decide to come back, ’cause I won’t have her, the ungrateful little minx.’

Mabel did not answer. She had already composed her letter of application to the Matron of the Booth Street Poor Law infirmary and Albert had warned her not to breathe a word about it to anybody, though she wrote to Miss Carter and Mrs James to ask them for references. Both consented, Mrs James all the more readily because she had a conscience about Mabel’s summary dismissal from the Institute at a difficult time in her life. Mabel was also asked to give the name of her general practitioner who unknown to her sent a highly commendatory letter.

On the day before Albert was due to return to sea, he had another serious talk with his sister. ‘Good luck wiv yer interview, Mabel, an’ remember, not a word to the Duchess until the day yer sling yer ’ook. I wouldn’t put it past ’er to try an’ scuttle yer chances. She’s goin’ to miss yer pedallin’ all rahnd Tootin’ doin’ ’er work.’

‘I can’t ever thank yer enough for what ye’ve done, Albert,’ she said seriously. ‘It’s made all the difference in the world, gettin’ Daisy back to Belhampton.’

‘Well, she couldn’t’ve stayed ’ere, could she? An’ the sooner
you
get out o’ the damned place the better, an’ all. I worry about yer, ol’ gal.’ He pinched her cheek as he spoke and she knew how much he meant what he said. Then he told her he had been to see Harry Drover at Clapton. ‘Still pinin’ for yer, Mabel, an’ ’e ain’t never goin’ to alter.’

Her heart gave a lurch at the thought of the meeting between the two of them and what might have been said. ‘Yer didn’t say anythin’ about me, did yer?’ she asked anxiously.

He gave her a quizzical look. ‘I did as much
listenin’ as talkin’. Don’t forget he’s a Sally Army man, which means there ain’t much ’e don’t know abaht yooman failin’s.’

‘Oh, Albert, yer didn’t talk about anythin’ . . . confidential, did yer?’

‘Sometimes there ain’t no need to discuss anyfin’, Mabel. People ain’t always as daft as yer fink. Anyway, toodle-oo, old gal, an’ take care – I won’t be ’appy until ye’re shot o’ the ol’ witch.’

‘Goodbye, Albert. And thanks for—’ She hugged him close, unable to say another word.

‘I must tell you, Miss Court, that a large number of young women have applied for nursing training at this hospital since it came under the jurisdiction of the Local Government Board and the appointment of a Medical Officer. Daughters of clergymen, schoolmasters, councillors – I’ve taken them on as probationers and you have to realise that with over seventy applicants for less than twenty appointments, I have to be very careful in selecting the right ones.’

Mabel’s heart sank. The Matron of the Booth Street infirmary was a square-faced, broad-shouldered woman of about forty-five, with a starched and frilled white cap perched on her iron-grey hair. She sat opposite Mabel across a desk on which lay the application letters and details of the other young women being interviewed that day, and she prided herself on her intuitive judgement of character. ‘I see that since leaving school you have worked at a nursery for pre-school children and a refuge for unmarried mothers. Miss Carter gives you a very good reference and Mrs James describes you as a willing worker.’

Mabel nodded nervously. ‘Thank yer, Matron.’

‘I also note that you lost both your parents last year, Miss Court, which must have been a sad and difficult time for you. What was your father’s occupation?’

‘He travelled around racecourses and did a bit o’ – he was a bookmaker, Matron.’

‘I see. And you now live with your grandmother?’

‘That’s right, Matron,’ answered Mabel, who had said nothing about her work with Mimi’s maternity cases, for fear of what might be asked.

‘And your brothers and sisters, what has happened to them since losing your parents?’

Mabel gave a brief account of each one and the Matron nodded, studied her papers and then looked intently at this honest, likeable girl before her. ‘I find you a suitable applicant, Miss Court, though you will have to be considered along with the others when the Board’s committee meets to make the appointments. I like your general attitude and will personally support your application. You’ll be notified within a week.’

‘Er, I see, Matron. Thank yer.’

‘So if you are accepted for training, Miss Court, would you be able to commence with the next new intake on Monday, September the first?’

Mabel’s mouth dropped open and a look of incredulous joy lit up her grey-blue eyes. ‘Would I, Matron –
would
I? Oh, yes, I most certainly would!’

‘Very well.’ The woman’s stern face softened in a smile of appreciation – this girl she had liked at first sight. ‘All new appointments are on a three-month trial, Miss Court, with an examination at the end. Right! I shall look forward to seeing you again.’

Mabel rose from her chair and took the offered hand. She very nearly kissed it.

Looking out for the postman the following week, Mabel feared that she might be out on a case when the letter of notification arrived. She therefore confided in Miss Lawton who promised to look out for it each morning when the post arrived. Exactly a week after the interview she slipped the all-important letter into Mabel’s hand. ‘I . . . I’ve got it, I picked it up off the mat before M-Mrs Court came down,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, what does it say? Open it, do, do!’

With trembling fingers Mabel tore open the envelope and read the brief typewritten letter: ‘We are pleased to inform you that . . .’ The two women hugged each other silently in the narrow hallway. Three months to go and then goodbye to Macaulay Road.

Meanwhile life went on in much the same way, with only one untoward incident in the midwifery practice. On being called out to a woman in labour with her fourth child, Mabel was not sure that the child’s head was presenting, as had been assumed by the panel doctor. And if it was a breech presentation she was not competent to deal with it. She sent the woman’s neighbour to fetch her grandmother, only to be told that Mrs Court was out visiting another patient. Mabel therefore had no choice but to send for Mimi’s deadly rival. ‘Yer need a qualified midwife, dear, so I’ll ask Mrs Taylor to come and see what she thinks,’ she told the woman and the neighbour was accordingly sent to Fishponds Road.

Mrs Taylor, who had been loudly complaining for some time that Mrs Court left half her cases in the
charge of a young, unregistered girl, was highly delighted when that same young girl asked for her advice and opinion. The baby was indeed in the breech position and the doctor was called, but being a fourth child it slithered out with no difficulty and the story had a happy ending in that respect. The explosion came when Mimi heard of her detested rival’s triumph, and she was absolutely furious with Mabel.

But her fury made no headway: Mabel remained calm because she was confident that she had done the right thing. ‘Yer weren’t there, Grandmother, and I wasn’t goin’ to risk a baby’s life just ’cause yer don’t like Mrs Taylor.’

‘Like her? The woman’s incompetent! She’s envied my reputation as a midwife for years and now what’s she goin’ to say all round the district? Yer knew it was the woman’s fourth baby and not likely to give any trouble, surely to God!’

‘It was a breech, Grandmother.’

‘An’ she dropped it like shellin’ a pea.’

‘It was a
breech
and I might’ve run into trouble deliverin’ the head.’

‘Yer shouldn’t’ve sent for that old fool.’

‘And
you
shouldn’t’ve been away from home.’

Mimi glared incredulously at such defiance. ‘Ye’ll be too bloody clever for yer own good one o’ these days, my girl.’

She knows I’m not afraid of her, thought Mabel with grim satisfaction, counting the days to her liberation. She kept the letter of acceptance under her pillow.

The gentleman who called to see Mrs Court was tall
and aristocratic in appearance. He was also obviously very worried, and fidgeted with his hat and gloves as he talked with Mimi in the front parlour. From her window Mabel watched him bow and replace his hat as he rejoined his waiting cab and driver.

True to form, the next day Mimi set out dressed inconspicuously in black, saying that she might not be back that day, and giving instructions to the maids about meals and household duties to be done during her absence. ‘And if Mrs Betts at the bakery goes into labour, Mabel, and yer run into trouble, don’t send for that creature on Fishponds Road, get the panel doctor straight away.’

‘Yes, Grandmother.’

Mimi did not return until the next day, but looked pleased with herself; the outcome of her visit had clearly been both satisfactory and lucrative. Nobody asked any questions, but Miss Lawton absented herself from the evening meal and stayed in her room.

‘Good riddance to the old black crow,’ muttered Mimi. ‘Gettin’ more an’ more of a problem, she is. End up in a private asylum at this rate and I’ll have to foot the bill.’

Mabel made no answer.

Two days later, a Sunday, Mabel and Miss Lawton had returned from the morning service and were about to sit down to Sunday dinner with Mimi when there was a loud knocking at the front door. ‘It’s a young woman for yer, madam,’ said the maid and Mimi rose at once, wiping her mouth on her table napkin. A brief exchange took place on the doorstep and Mabel gasped on hearing a voice she thought
she recognised, shrill with anxiety. ‘Ye’ll ’ave to come to ’er, missus, she’s really bad!’

‘All right, all right, I’ll come, no need for all this to-do,’ she heard Mimi say crossly. ‘Wait there while I fetch me bag.’ She puffed her way up the stairs and they heard her call, ‘Elsie!’

Mabel simply had to see who was at the door, and while her grandmother was upstairs she got up from the table and peered into the hallway.