Read Mother’s Ruin Online

Authors: Kitty Neale

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

Mother’s Ruin (9 page)

If only the hospital was nearby, Sally thought as she once again prepared to visit Arthur. Just over a week had passed since his accident, her aunt had left for her cruise, and unable to leave her gran, she could only visit Arthur in the evenings. A few of the neighbours had offered to sit with Gran, one being Nelly Cox, but Sadie would have none of it, saying she didn’t need a babysitter. With no other choice, Sally wouldn’t leave her gran, but Elsie went to see Arthur every afternoon.

Sally had been to the hall to tell the other healers that she wouldn’t be able to join them for a while, gratified when they offered to put out absent healing for Arthur. She had assured them that he wasn’t in any danger and was recovering well, adding that she would be back to join them as soon as possible.

It was nearly time to leave and she dreaded the journey, the buses few and far between, but maybe Arthur would be able to come home soon. She heard a knock at the door, but left her mother to answer it as she grabbed her shoes before making her way downstairs, surprised to see a man on the doorstep.

‘Sally, this man says he’s a friend of Arthur’s.’

‘Hello,’ she said hesitantly, struggling to see the man in the dim light.

‘My name is Joe Somerton. Could I have a word with your husband?’

‘Joe! The Joe that Arthur met in Australia?’

‘Yes, that’s me.’

‘You’d better come in,’ Sally said, and as he stepped into the light she saw that he was a handsome man with blond hair above chiselled features. ‘I’m afraid Arthur had an accident in his car and he’s in hospital.’

‘Strewth! I wondered why he hadn’t been in touch, but didn’t expect this. Is he all right?’

‘He’s got a badly damaged leg, but he’s on the mend.’

‘Would it be all right if I visit him?’

‘I don’t see why not. As a matter of fact I’m just on my way to the hospital now.’

‘May I join you?’

‘Err . . . yes, I suppose so. I get a bus at the end of the lane and then change at Clapham Junction.’

‘I have my car and can drive you.’

‘Oh, wonderful, it will save us so much time.’

Angel came running into the hall. ‘Mummy, can I come to see Daddy too?’

‘Not tonight, darling, but I’ll take you on Sunday.’

‘But I want to see my daddy!’

‘Come on, Angel. Come with Nanny,’ Ruth said. ‘I think we might find some sweeties in my handbag.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Sally mouthed as a placated Angel ran back to the kitchen. She then followed Joe outside to his car, glad for the lift.

‘She’s a little beauty,’ he commented, unlocking the passenger door.

Sally climbed into the Jaguar, admiring the leather upholstery and walnut dashboard. As Joe climbed in beside her she said, ‘Yes, it is a lovely car.’

He laughed, a deep, pleasant, rumbling sound. ‘I was talking about your little girl.’

They drove to Putney, talking mainly about Arthur, and as they walked into the ward he managed to smile brightly.

‘Joe, great to see you. I guessed you might wonder where I’d got to and was going to ask Sally to ring you tonight.’

‘I pipped you at the post then. How’s the leg?’

‘Not too bad.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘I’d made up my mind to go into business with you and went to tell my father. Unfortunately, on the way back it seems I tangled with a lorry, but to be honest I can’t remember much about it. It seems there were no witnesses, so it’s probably down to the insurance people to sort it out.’

‘At least you’re all right, and its great that you’re coming in with me.’

Arthur frowned. ‘I could be laid up for some time, Joe. It might be better if you find another partner.’

‘If you haven’t changed your mind, there’s no need for that. I can carry on without you for a while and once you’re up and about you can get involved. I’ve also got a bit of good news.’

‘You’ve found some land?’ Arthur asked, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm.

‘Yup, and it’s going for a fair price. It’s just outside Reading, in Berkshire, ideal for commuting to London, and once the deal’s been finalised we can get to work.’

‘What about planning permission?’

‘The outline permission is in place, but a lot will depend on our architect’s drawings. I’ve an appointment to see the planning officer tomorrow.’

‘Good luck, mate.’

Feeling like an appendage, Sally settled down beside Arthur, listening as they discussed the project until at last Joe said, ‘Sorry, Sally, I seem to be taking all of Arthur’s time.’

‘That’s all right,’ she said graciously as Arthur took her hand and squeezed it gently.

‘I’ll come to see you again as soon as there’s any news, Arthur, but now I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. I’ll wait outside to run you home, Sally.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Bye for now, Arthur.’

‘See ya, mate.’

They both watched Joe leaving the ward and then Arthur asked, ‘Well, what do you think of him?’

‘He seems nice.’

‘He’s a good bloke, and I’m relieved that he still wants me to go into the partnership. I just hope I’m out of here soon.’

‘You will be,’ she said, and after talking for a while longer, the bell sounded to signal the end of visiting time. Reluctantly Sally stood up. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, love. Is there anything you need?’

‘How about a kiss?’

Sally leaned across the bed, and as she kissed Arthur there was the sound of wolf whistles from several beds. Arthur grinned, enjoying the camaraderie. ‘None of us in this ward are ill, it’s mostly broken bones so we have a few laughs.’ He then turned away from her, shouting, ‘Shut up you lot. You’re just jealous.’

Pink with embarrassment Sally hurried out of the ward, with more wolf whistles accompanying her. It was lovely to see that Arthur was recovering well, and she wondered how long it would be before he could come home. It couldn’t come soon enough for Sally.

On a Saturday morning, with Christmas only a few weeks away and her mother finding an excuse to take the day off work, Sally had taken the opportunity to do a bit of shopping, but as she returned to Candle Lane the sound of yelling and screaming reached her ears.

She saw a circle of women, all shouting, and as she drew nearer, Sally could see two women in the centre. She blanched. One was her mother, the other Laura Walters, both with outstretched arms and gripping each other’s hair as they grappled like wrestlers.

‘Mum!’ she called, trying to force herself through the ring of neighbours. ‘Stop it. What on earth are you doing?’

Laura Walters suddenly released Ruth’s hair and with a cry of anger she raised her fist, punching her opponent full in the face.

‘Ouch!’ Ruth cried. ‘Why . . . you . . . you,’ and lunging forward she kicked out, her shoe making contact with Laura’s shin.

‘That’s it, Ruth. You give her what for,’ Nelly Cox encouraged. She then saw Sally looking at her with outrage, and smiled ruefully. ‘Well, it’s no more than Laura deserves. Tommy went to your mum in an awful state. He’s got a black eye, and bruises all over his body.’

Sally looked around frantically, wondering where her daughter was. Her mother was supposed to be looking after her. There she was, looking out of the window, Gran beside her as they watched the spectacle.

‘That’s enough, Mum,’ Sally shouted as Laura Walters again squared up for the fight. She was wasting her breath.

Both women lunged forward. They grappled again, panting, but then with a huge shove from Ruth, Laura Walters found herself on her back, the wind knocked out of her.

She looked up as Ruth stood over her, her stance threatening as she spat, ‘If you lay a hand on that boy again you’ll be sorry, you drunken slut.’

Gasping for breath Laura wasn’t ready to give in. ‘He’s
my
son, not yours. Keep your nose out of my business.’

‘I know full well he isn’t my son. In fact I’m old enough to be his grandmother. You’re a disgrace, Laura Walters, and you should think yourself lucky that I ain’t reported you to the authorities. Mind you, I could still do it, so think on that.’

‘I’m not scared of you,
or
the so-called authorities. The boy deserved a thrashing, and I gave him one.’ She scrambled to her feet, her chest heaving, and pressing a hand on her heart she made for her door, ignoring the jeers of her neighbours.

Ruth looked on, her eyes still dark with anger. As the crowd began to break up, hands patted her on the back. ‘Good on yer,’ one said. ‘She’s been asking for it,’ said another.

Sally turned away from the scene and with a shake of her head she left her mother to her admirers.

‘Nanny was fighting, Mummy,’ Angel said, scrambling from her vantage point at the window.

‘I know.’

‘No doubt your mother will bring the kid in here now. For some reason she seems to be getting overly fond of that boy. When you’re at the hospital she often has him in here for a bite to eat,’ Sadie said.

‘This is the first I’ve heard of it.’

‘Yeah, well, I kept my mouth shut. You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment with Arthur.’

Ruth came in then, the boy with her. Crouching in front of him she said, ‘Now then, Tommy, if your mother touches you again I want you to tell me.’

Tommy nodded, his eyes wide, and Ruth added, ‘I don’t think it’s safe for you to go home yet. You’d best stay here for a while.’

Sally opened her mouth to protest, but the look her mother gave her was ferocious. Instead she said, ‘Come on, Angel. Let’s get you ready for the hospital. Daddy will be looking forward to seeing you.’

Angel followed her upstairs without demur and, as Sally bathed her daughter, she wondered what it was with her mother and Tommy Walters? She had never seen her involved in a street fight before. Her mother had been like a lioness protecting her cub.

Sally let go of Angel’s hand as they went into the ward, her daughter running ahead to Arthur’s bed while Sally smiled at the other patients as she passed them. They were nearly all young men and, though suffering broken bones, they weren’t ill. The ward was a lively place, with jokes flying around, and goodness knows how some of the young nurses coped.

‘Daddy’s poorly,’ Angel said as she walked to Arthur’s side.

‘Hello, love,’ Arthur said, his usually bright greeting sounding weak.

‘You look a little flushed. Are you feeling all right?’

‘Not really and I’m hot.’

Sally focused on Arthur’s aura and was immediately worried by what she saw. There was a huge patch of darkness around his lower leg and moving to the bottom of the bed her eyes were drawn to his foot where it stuck out from the plaster. Sally wasn’t looking at his aura now; she was looking at the strange blisters that had formed over his toes. They were almost black, as though filled with blood, and she stared at them worriedly. ‘Arthur, has anyone said anything about these blisters on your foot?’

‘No, but my leg has been feeling uncomfortable since you left yesterday.’

‘Angela, wait here. I’m just going to have a word with Sister Moody,’ Sally said, then hurrying to the office.

The woman looked a little annoyed when Sally barged in without knocking, but after listening to her blurted explanation, Sister Moody rose to her feet.

‘Black blisters, you say,’ she said sharply. ‘I’ll come and have a look.’

From the moment Sister Moody saw Arthur’s foot, panic seemed to set in. She almost ran back to her office and in what seemed like seconds, a doctor appeared.

‘What’s going on?’ Sally demanded as the curtains were hurriedly drawn around Arthur’s bed.

‘Your husband has developed an infection,’ Dr Willis said, and then immediately instructed the sister to give Arthur what, to Sally’s ears, sounded like a dose of penicillin. ‘We’ll get this plaster removed and then he’ll have to be put in an isolation ward.’

‘Isolation! But . . .’ Sally gasped.

‘If you wait outside, I’ll see that someone talks to you as soon as possible,’ the doctor said dismissively, and at his words a nurse came to Sally’s side, leading her and Angel from the ward.

They sat on hard wooden chairs, Angel confused and Sally doing her best to reassure her. She was very relieved and felt less alone when Elsie turned up to visit Arthur, but had only just told her about the infection when porters wheeled him out of the ward. Sally saw panic in Arthur’s eyes and rushed forward. ‘Wait, where are you taking him?’

‘It’s all right, Mrs Jones. We’re just taking your husband to have his plaster removed,’ a nurse said. ‘Sister Moody is coming to have a word with you.’

Sally didn’t know what to do. Should they follow Arthur? Should they wait for the sister? The decision was taken out of her hands when Sister Moody appeared, indicating that she should come into the office, though she insisted that Angela should remain outside with Elsie.

‘Mrs Jones, as the doctor told you, your husband has developed a very nasty infection.’

‘What sort of infection?’

‘He has developed what is commonly called, gas gangrene.’

‘No . . . Oh no!’ Sally cried. Oh, God, Arthur!

‘Your husband will be put in a side room, given antibiotics to treat the condition, and of course analgesics for the pain.’

‘Will . . . will he be all right?’

‘We’ve caught the condition early so the prognosis is good, but now I suggest you go home.’

‘Home! But I want to see him.’

‘Very well, but you will have to wear a surgical mask at all times, and I’m afraid you will be the only one allowed to visit him for the time being.’

‘But his mother is here . . . and my daughter, she will want to see her daddy.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid not.’

Sally slumped in the chair, the full impact and seriousness of Arthur’s condition sinking in. She felt sick; she was going to be sick, and hand over her mouth Sally fled to the toilets.

Everything had happened so quickly that Arthur’s mind refused to function. One minute he was in the ward, Angel and Sally were visiting, and the next it seemed that all hell had broken loose.

He lifted his head as the plaster was removed, and gagged. God, the stench! What had been a flesh wound now resembled a huge hole, one that he could fit his fist into. Arthur grew more anxious. He’d seen other patients in the ward with broken legs, many of whom had recovered enough to go home, and until this moment he’d expected to do the same. ‘Doctor, just what sort of infection is this?’

‘Don’t worry, Mr Jones,’ he replied without really answering the question. ‘We’ll soon sort you out.’

Arthur was given a local anaesthetic, and soon they began to tend the wound. The process took a long time and after they’d finally finished, the doctor said, ‘Right, young man. We’ll put a new plaster on now, this time with a lift-up flap over the wound.’

Instead of being wheeled back to the ward, Arthur was put in a side room. He wanted to know what was going on and was determined to ask questions, but then his usual doctor came in with a new nurse and Arthur noted that both were wearing masks.

‘Mr Jones, this is Nurse Trimble and she’ll be looking after you.’

‘Why are you wearing masks?’

‘You have gangrene in your wound, Mr Jones. It’s been caught early and should respond to treatment. However, until then you have to be kept in sterile conditions. Now your wife is waiting outside to see you, but for the time being you won’t be allowed to see any other visitors.’

Arthur had more questions, but then the nurse opened the door to beckon Sally in, saying as she appeared, ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jones, but I’m afraid you can only stay for five minutes.’

Though wearing a mask too, Arthur could see the anxiety in his wife’s eyes as she approached the bed, her voice sounding muffled as she said, ‘Oh, Arthur, are you all right?’

He made a supreme effort, saying, ‘Yes, I’m fine, but get that mask off so I can give you a kiss.’

‘Now then, Mr Jones, you know that isn’t allowed,’ Nurse Trimble said. ‘In fact, no contact at all please.’

‘It was worth a try,’ he replied, forcing a grin.

As the doctor left the room Arthur was struck by a thought. ‘Sally, where’s Angel?’

‘She’s outside with your mother and as you can imagine, playing up because she can’t see you. Your mother sends her love.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Jones, but I must ask you to leave now,’ Nurse Trimble said, ‘and for the time being, would you please restrict your visits to one a day for half an hour.’

Blimey, Arthur thought, thinking that Nurse Trimble reminded him of one of his old school teachers. He half-expected Sally to reply with a ‘Yes, Miss’ but instead she just nodded, her eyes clouded with worry.

‘I’ll leave you to say your goodbyes,’ the nurse said brusquely, at last leaving the room.

‘Sally, don’t worry, I’ll be fine,’ Arthur said, once again forcing a cheery note into his voice.

Sally reached out to touch him, but then remembering that she wasn’t allowed, snatched her hand back. ‘Oh, Arthur.’

‘I know, love, but just make sure that when I get out of here you’ve found us a flat to move into,’ he said with a cheeky wink, ‘we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.’

‘Yes, we have and I’ve started looking already.’

The door opened, Nurse Trimble back again. ‘Bye, Sally, see you tomorrow,’ Arthur said, trying not to sound too despondent.

‘Bye, darling,’ she whispered, and then with a small wave she was gone.

It hadn’t been easy to keep up the pretence and a wave of exhaustion washed over Arthur. Gangrene! He had gangrene, and in truth he was quaking with fear.

Sally found herself shaking on the journey home, thankful that Elsie was there to give them a lift. The dreaded word gangrene kept going around in her mind, and it was all she could do to placate Angela. The child was still upset and she had now become petulant. ‘Angela, that’s enough. You can’t see him for a while and there’s nothing I can do about it.’

‘Sally, I can understand how she feels,’ Elsie said. ‘I’m his mother and I wasn’t allowed to see him either.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at her, but I’m worried sick about Arthur.’

‘Why, Mummy?’

Sally felt a wave of despair as she struggled to find the right words. ‘He’s got a bad headache, darling, and he needs quiet until it gets better.’

Angel settled down at last and soothed by the motion of the car she was fast asleep by the time they arrived in Candle Lane. Sally lifted her daughter gently from the car, and with Elsie’s help she managed to put Angel onto Gran’s bed downstairs. When they walked into the kitchen, their faces must have said it all.

‘Sally, Elsie, what’s the matter?’ Ruth cried. ‘Your faces are like lint!’

Sally broke, all her pent-up fears and anxieties rising to the surface and tears spurting from her eyes. ‘Oh, Mum, Arthur’s got gangrene.’

‘No!’ Ruth gasped.

‘Stone the crows!’ Sadie said. ‘They’ll have to take his leg off.’

‘Don’t say that!’ Elsie begged. ‘Well, you might as well face it now as later. Lots of blokes lost their limbs to gangrene during the war. It’s inevitable.’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Sally protested. ‘The ward sister said that Arthur should respond to treatment.’

‘Huh, who’s she kidding?’

‘She may be right, Mum,’ Ruth said.

‘Poppycock! I’ve told you once you get gangrene they take your leg off. It’s the only way to stop it spreading.’

Sally couldn’t bear it. Her gran had to be wrong . . . she just had to. ‘Stop it, Gran! Stop talking as though it’s a foregone conclusion. The doctor didn’t mention amputation. Medical science has come a long way since the war, and Arthur is going to get better. I just know he is.’

‘All right, love, I’m sorry and now calm down. Ruth, make a pot of tea. Elsie looks like she could do with a cuppa too.’

Sally laughed then, but it was hysterical laughter. Tea! Her mum and gran’s cure all for everything. Oh, if only life was as simple as that.

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