Sapphire Battersea (30 page)

I WOULDN’T BELIEVE
it. I tried not to let Mama believe it either.

‘You’re not going to die, Mama. I won’t let you! I will care for you and feed you and nurse you, and do every single thing for you so that you never have to move, and then you won’t cough, and then you will get better, just you wait and see,’ I declared.

But Mama just shook her head very sadly, without even enough spirit to argue with me. She was proved horribly right about Miss Roberts. Mama had cared for her so devotedly – but as soon as the doctor broke the news to her that Mama had consumption, she panicked.

‘She must leave this house immediately!’ she screamed, so loudly that Mama and I could hear her downstairs. ‘I can’t have any sickness here! She might infect me! I will have to have the whole house thoroughly cleansed and disinfected. I will have to go to the trouble of training a new maid in my ways, and I’m a sick old woman myself. Oh,
why
did she
have
to do this to me? How will I ever get a maid to replace Ida?’

‘What a selfish, wicked woman!’ I exclaimed. ‘She doesn’t give a thought for
you
, Mama.’

‘She’s simply frightened,’ said Mama. ‘Go to her, Hetty. Here’s your chance. Tell her that
you
will care for her.’

‘I’m not working for her!’ I cried.

‘Hetty, please, will you try? One of us has to work – and it looks as if I am finished.’

‘
Don’t!
All right, Mama, I will go and talk to her.’

I’d sooner have worked for Matron Stinking Bottomly than for this self-centred, wretched woman who didn’t have a word of compassion for my dear sick mama – but I could not deny her anything now.

‘Try to be very polite!’ said Mama.

I went up the stairs and knocked on her door.

‘Who’s that? If it’s you, Ida, you can’t come in! I daren’t risk the infection – and I mustn’t upset myself. I am a sick woman, aren’t I, Doctor?’

I swallowed hard while he murmured to her. I wanted to burst in and boot her right out of bed, but I entered her room quietly, and bobbed her a deferential curtsy.

‘Ah, the little daughter,’ said Dr Jenkins.

‘Whose daughter?
Ida’s?
’

‘Yes, ma’am – and I can take over Mama’s duties while she’s in the infirmary,’ I said meekly. ‘I have
been
trained as a servant and can cook and clean. Please let me assist you, ma’am. I am quick to learn.’

‘There now, Miss Roberts!’ said Dr Jenkins. ‘Here is the answer to your prayers.’

‘No, no, absolutely not! Don’t let that girl come near me! She might have the infection too. And I can’t have a child born out of wedlock in my house. I’m sorry, but I have my Christian principles.’

‘And I have
my
principles, ma’am,’ I shouted, unable to help myself now. ‘I am
glad
you will not take me on. You pretend to be a good woman, but you haven’t got an ounce of compassion in your withered heart. You are so taken up with your own trivial concerns that you didn’t even
notice
that Mama was coughing herself to death. She’s cared so dutifully for you, and yet you just want to turn her out onto the streets. You talk of Christian principles! I think you’re going to get a horrible surprise when you go knocking on St Peter’s gate in Heaven. He’ll shake his head at you and turn you away, just you wait and see!’

I stamped out of the room, down the stairs, back to Mama in the kitchen.

‘I couldn’t quite hear – but that didn’t
sound
very polite,’ Mama said weakly.

‘Oh, Mama, I did try, truly, but she didn’t want me,’ I said.

‘Then we’re done for,’ Mama said weakly. ‘We’re both homeless.’

‘No, we’re
not
. That Dr Jenkins seems a kind gentleman. I’m sure he’ll do his best to get you into the infirmary,’ I said.

‘I
try
to be kind – and I’m going to take your mama directly to the infirmary in my carriage,’ Dr Jenkins said, following me into the kitchen. ‘Why don’t you get your mother’s things packed up, my dear?’

It took only a few minutes to pack Mama’s possessions into a box. She had just two changes of clothes, her nightgown, her washing things, her brush and comb, her little violet vase, and a satin pouch embroidered with one word:
HETTY
. I found all the letters I’d ever written to her inside, tied up in neat bundles with ribbon, plus all the childish presents I’d made for her, right back to a little ill-sewn heart. I wept then to see that she’d treasured them so carefully.

I carried Mama’s box and my own suitcase, and we left Miss Roberts’s house with the doctor. Mama tried to go to Miss Roberts to say goodbye, but she would not let her over her bedroom threshold and screamed at her to go away. Even so, Mama insisted on going to the neighbouring cottage, asking for the mistress there and begging her to send her maid to assist Miss Roberts.

The doctor took us to the infirmary in his carriage.

‘I really can’t go to this infirmary,’ Mama protested weakly. ‘I must try to find some kind of shelter for Hetty and me. I can still work if I put my mind to it.’ But she started coughing again, that
harsh
hacking cough she couldn’t control. Then she choked, and the terrifying bright blood stained her handkerchief.

‘You cannot possibly work, my dear,’ said Dr Jenkins. ‘All you can do is rest now.’

The carriage drew up outside a large grey building that reminded me uncomfortably of my own hospital.

‘Wait here, both of you,’ said the doctor, and he hurried inside.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Mama,’ I said tearfully. ‘I thought the doctor might be able to make you better. I didn’t dream that dreadful woman would throw you out. I didn’t realize.’

‘I know, Hetty, I know,’ Mama said, resting her poor burning head on my shoulder. ‘Oh, darling, what use am I to you as a mother? Perhaps I should have given you up for good when you were a baby and never tried to be near you. I’ve just brought you heartache and grief.’

‘You’ve given me great love. You’re the best mother in the whole world. You mustn’t worry about a thing now. You’re going to get better, I promise you are. I’m going to visit you every day, and buy you little treats and care for you – just the way you did for me when I was little. But I’m big now, Mama, and can look out for myself, so you mustn’t worry.’

‘You,
big
? You’ll always be my light-as-a-feather
Hetty
,’ said Mama.

‘Sapphire,’ I said.

‘Sapphire,’ said Mama, very gently touching my eyelids with her fingertips. ‘When you were born, I wrapped you in a shawl and held you in my arms. You didn’t cry or sleep like most babies. You just lay there, a tiny little thing, and looked up solemnly with your big blue eyes. You didn’t seem like a stranger at all – it was as if I’d known you for ever.’

We clung to each other. Then Dr Jenkins came back, accompanied by a nurse in a high white hat and a starched apron. Her uniform reminded me of the matrons at the hospital and I was scared, but she helped Mama out of the carriage gently enough.

‘Come along, you poor dear. Let us get you comfortable in bed,’ she said.

‘There now, young woman,’ said Dr Jenkins to me. ‘They will take care of your mother. They have put aside a bed for her, and she can stay there until – until she needs it no longer.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ I fumbled for my handkerchief. ‘Exactly how much do I owe you, Dr Jenkins?’

He looked down at me, hesitating.

‘It’s all right, I have a great deal of money here. I can pay you the full amount, I’m sure,’ I said.

‘You keep your money, my dear,’ said Dr Jenkins. ‘I think you’re going to need every penny.’

‘That’s – that’s exceptionally kind of you, sir. I
am
deeply indebted to you,’ I said. I was trying to sound very grown up and business-like, but he shook his head sorrowfully, and patted me on the head as if I were a little child.

I scurried after Mama and the nurse. When I caught them up at the infirmary entrance, the nurse looked shocked to see me.

‘No, no, dear. You’re not allowed in here,’ she said.

‘But I have to go with Mama!’

‘I’m taking her to the fever ward. Our patients are kept in complete isolation,’ said the nurse.

‘But
you
can go with her!’

‘Yes, but
I
am a nurse!’ she said.

‘Then let me be a nurse too!’ I said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, child!’

‘Please, please, please, can I just see where Mama’s bed will be, and help her into it?’ I said. I dropped to my knees. ‘Look, I am
begging
you.
Please
.’

‘Oh, very well, you can come in for five minutes, but then you must go. If Sister catches you there, I shall get into serious trouble,’ she said.

So I walked with the nurse and Mama down long corridors smelling strongly of iodoform. Then, at last, at the very end of the building, we went through a door into a long room with beds lined up on either side.

‘It’s just like the dormitory at the hospital,
Mama
!’ I said.

I peered fearfully at the folk in the beds. They were mostly lying neat and still beneath their grey blankets, as if their limbs had been as firmly tucked in as their sheets. The few sitting propped up on pillows were all wearing bright red bed jackets. Perhaps they were provided to make the patients look bright and cheerful, but the colour only emphasized their sallow faces.

‘You will have this bed here. It’s in the best place of all, by the window. There, you have a sea view!’ said the nurse, as if this were a special seaside hotel.

The window was opened a few inches, rattling a little in the strong breeze blowing from the sea.

‘Won’t Mama be in a draught?’ I asked anxiously.

‘She will get lots of sea air, and that will be very good for her lungs,’ said the nurse. ‘Now, go behind that curtain and take off your clothes. I’ll provide you with infirmary linen. You won’t need your own nightgown. In fact you won’t need any of your things here. Your daughter can take them away.’

‘I’ll keep my letters,’ Mama said firmly.

When I’d helped her into the plain white nightgown and garish bed jacket, she clutched the satin pouch to her chest.

I helped her gently into bed, smoothing her hair and pulling the bed jacket up around her thin neck.
The
nurse provided her with a little china spittoon and a large handkerchief.

Mama and I stared at each other. Tears spilled down our cheeks.

‘Oh, Hetty,’ Mama whispered.

‘There now, time to rest,’ said the nurse, trying to straighten Mama’s clenched fists. ‘Say goodbye now.’

‘This isn’t goodbye for ever, Mama,’ I said fiercely. ‘You’re going to get better, do you hear me? And I’m going to find a place for us to live and we’ll be together at last, you and me. That’s the way it’s going to be, I promise.’

‘But … now … I think you will have to … go to Miss Smith,’ Mama gasped, starting to cough.

‘No, I’m going to stay here. Don’t worry, Mama, I have a plan. I will find a position here, and every day I will come to the infirmary before it gets dark. If I can’t creep in somehow, I will stand in the grounds and I will wave to you at your window to show you that I’m fine. And you will wave back to me. Will you do that, Mama?’

‘I will, darling,’ Mama said between coughs.

I wiped her brow for her, kissed her hot forehead, and then ran out of the ward. I ran down the grim corridors, out of the infirmary, down the road, right onto the sands. I laid my head on my suitcase, clutched Mama’s box, and cried my heart out.