He and Edie had never married though they had lived together amicably for half a dozen years in the large, green-painted caravan which the Flanagans had found for him when he first bought the shooting gallery from Trixie’s dad. It still rather annoyed him that Edie had thrown in her lot with Solly Butcher, but Solly was already Riding Master of a large fair of his own and Toby supposed, ruefully, that one could scarcely blame the girl. Besides, though he had been fond enough of Edie, he had never lost his heart to her. She was a hard-boiled young woman who had spent all her life with the travelling fair, and he had not been, by any means, her first partner. So losing Edie, he thought now, had affected his business rather than his heart.
One of the reasons that Toby had been unable to employ a young woman to run his rifle range was that Flanagan’s fair was a trifle short on females. The only young, attractive girls were already fully employed, and taking on an outsider was a difficult business because the fair constantly moved on. Besides, he had no accommodation to offer an employee; had he been married, it would have been natural for him and his wife to give the girl a bed in the green caravan – but then if he had been married, his wife would have run the shooting gallery and there would have been no need to employ anyone.
Toby sighed and leaned his elbow on the counter, looking out at the desolate scene. They were due to move on tomorrow and he just hoped that the new gaff would be less soggy underfoot than this one, for nothing put the flatties off more than getting mired to the knees in mud. He tried to remember to which town they were going, then gave up. Once they were on the road, they might well stop half a dozen times in small villages before moving on to a proper town, and such villages were always, he reflected gloomily, muddy.
Despite the fact that, as she had warned Maggie, she had barely finished work by seven o’clock, Patty hurried straight to the rendezvous. She did not intend to put herself in the wrong with Darky by arriving late, though she had a perfect excuse for so doing. One of her patients had developed mastitis and by the time Patty had finished with her, she was already an hour later than she should have been for her subsequent calls. It was a tired and cross Nurse Peel, therefore, who climbed wearily off her bicycle outside Mr Flowerdew’s shop. She was still in full uniform and knew herself to be both dirty and untidy, for she had been far too busy to comb her hair or do more than wash her hands and face with carbolic soap at her last call. It would have been nice to have had a good wash with scented soap, to have used a talcum and perhaps to have dabbed a little perfume behind each ear, but instead she would have to face her adversary – for she could scarcely think of him as a friend – with her hair falling out of its bun and the aroma of disinfectant about her.
Glancing around, she thought for one moment that Darky had not yet arrived, but then he emerged from the shop and saw her and a big smile crossed his face. ‘Patty!’ he said and there was a lift to his voice that Patty had never heard before. ‘I were that scared you wouldn’t come … and last night, I forgot to give you these.’ He produced a box of Black Magic chocolates from his jacket pocket and held them out to her, looking so like a bashful small boy that she had to smile as she accepted the gift.
‘Thank you, Mr Knight,’ she said demurely. She tucked the chocolates into her own pocket, not wanting them to come into contact with the tools of her trade which had overflowed her black bag and were crammed untidily in her bicycle basket. When she got home, they would be meticulously cleaned and sterilised and put neatly into their proper places, but for the time being all she was concerned about was getting back to the landing house before she fell asleep from sheer exhaustion.
A couple of people walked between them and Patty smiled and began to push her bicycle towards home. Darky fell into step beside her, saying as he did so: ‘I can see you’ve come straight from work; you’ve had a long day. I’d hoped – expected – that we might take a stroll down to the waterfront so that we could chat.’ He peered earnestly into her face across the small distance which separated them. ‘Patty, we need to talk – we must talk! I’ve never been much of a feller for words but now I realise how important they are. Look, if we walk home and you leave your bicycle and take your stuff upstairs, we could be off again in ten minutes. We could catch a tram, or a taxi cab even. It’s a bit late for going anywhere exciting, but …’
Patty pulled her bicycle to a halt and turned to face him. Above her head, a street lamp spluttered into life in the deepening dusk. ‘I need more than ten minutes to get myself decent, Mr Knight,’ she said firmly. ‘At the end of every day, all my instruments have to be cleaned and sterilised, my uniforms – aprons and so on – have to be bundled up for the laundry or washed at home, and of course I have to wash myself pretty thoroughly as well. If I’ve been in contact with any sort of bad disease, I have to bath and wash my hair several times. So you see, it isn’t a simple matter of going indoors, running a comb through my hair and changing into a clean dress.’
‘I didn’t know,’ Darky said humbly. ‘I wasn’t thinkin’ straight because of course you had a dreadfully late night last night.’ He hesitated for a moment, staring down at his feet, then looked up, meeting her gaze squarely. ‘I were that desperate to get things sorted out that I suppose I were only thinking of myself.’ He grinned ruefully at her. ‘When will I ever get things right, eh? And by the same token, why have I descended from Darky to being Mr Knight again? I dare say you’ll think I’m just a cheeky blighter, but I don’t mean to stop calling you Patty – unless it makes you mad, of course!’
Despite herself, Patty was forced to grin back at him. She supposed that she was being a bit formal, considering he had just given her a very acceptable present – Patty’s mouth watered at the thought of a whole box of Black Magic chocolates – so she said: ‘I’m sorry, Darky, but it isn’t easy to forget how often I’ve got on the wrong side of you by accident and I suppose it’s made me wary.’ She hesitated again, glancing up into his dark, intense face as they turned the corner into Ashfield Place. ‘Do you think it might be better if we postponed our talk until another evening? Only I’m so tired, and I’ve so much still to do …’
‘I’ll come in and help you,’ Darky said eagerly. ‘I can help wi’ the kids; I’m quite handy about the house. Why, if you tell me how to sterilise your instruments, I’m sure I could do that for you. Then I could take you out for a bite of supper; do you know the Crocodile Restaurant on Cable Street? They do quite a decent meal, and if we get in before the cinemas and theatre shows finish it won’t be crowded.’
Patty laughed. She thought it was time that cards were placed very firmly on the table if Darky was suggesting that he should visit her house and behave like a friend of long standing. ‘And what about Ellen?’ she asked forthrightly. ‘No matter how you may feel, Mr Kni— I mean Darky, I don’t think Ellen would be at all happy to have her ex feller running loose around her home. And I believe Maggie has felt a bit unfriendly towards you for some time now.’
‘Oh yes,’ Darky said, his cheeks reddening. ‘I suppose … only I never was serious with Nurse Purbright, you know; never pretended to be. It – it were a misunderstanding like, and anyway Mam tells me she’s gorra feller now … and what business it is of young Maggie’s, I’ve yet to discover!’
Patty laughed again. ‘There you go, you see,’ she said. ‘Taking offence, getting all hot and bothered, making me feel it would be a great deal safer to call you Mr Knight and cross the road when I see you approaching. When three females – four if you count Merrell – share a house, then they get closer – and fonder – than you would believe possible. We’re a family, Mr Kni— Darky, I mean – and we behave like one. We take on each other’s quarrels, stand up for each other and band together against anybody who seems to be attacking one of our number. I don’t think fellers behave the same but you’ll find that women, old or young, tend to do just that.’
‘I see,’ Darky said, a trifle dismally. Patty thought he sounded truly crestfallen and was glad of it. At least he hadn’t argued, hadn’t tried to prove her wrong or claim that she was making a mountain out of a molehill. If they were to be friends, then he simply had to accept that the situation between himself and Ellen must be put right before he could visit freely at No. 24. ‘Patty, I do see what you mean. Suppose I apologise to Ellen for the way I behaved; do you think she’d accept an apology?’
‘Ellen is a very generous person,’ Patty said primly. ‘If you apologise to her I’m certain she’ll say that everything’s fine and since Maggie was hurt for Ellen rather than for herself she’ll be fine as well.’ They had reached the foot of the stairs and Patty padlocked her bicycle. ‘But I would still recommend that we forget going out this evening; what’s wrong with tomorrow evening?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ Darky was beginning, when someone clattered down the stairs. Patty was too busy transferring the contents of her basket to take much notice, but Darky started forward, standing at the end of the steps with a hand on either banister rail, effectively preventing the descender from setting foot on solid ground. ‘Ellen, I’ve treated you badly,’ Darky said. ‘Can you bring yourself to forgive me?’
Ellen looked astonished before saying airily, ‘Oh, don’t give it a thought, Darky. You were right that it were wastin’ my time to hang around hoping you’d get serious. Me new feller doesn’t need no encouragement; we’re already savin’ up for a wedding in a couple of years’ time.’ As Darky stood back, Ellen peered around him and spotted Patty. ‘Oh, is
that
why you’re suddenly so keen to make a clean breast of it,’ she remarked, grinning. ‘I might have guessed it weren’t just your naggin’ conscience which was cutting up rough.’ She turned back to Patty. ‘I’ve gorra late call to Mrs Finnigan. She reckons her pains have started so I’ll probably be out most of the night since she’s a primigravida.’
‘Right,’ Patty said briskly, heading for the stairs. ‘See you tomorrow morning then, queen. Everything all right at the house?’
‘Fine,’ Ellen said, going over to her own bicycle. She dumped her black bag in the basket and began to unfasten the padlock. ‘Merrell and Maggie have both had their supper and I put Merrell to bed almost an hour ago. She was really tired because Mrs Knight had taken the pair of them to Paddy’s market to buy shoes, and the little madam has been parading up and down Ashfield Place showing off her new possessions to anyone who was interested and quite a few who weren’t. Maggie’s sitting by the fire, toasting bread and trying to do an acrostic puzzle which one of the teachers in school gave her. She’s done her homework, and by the look of her it won’t be long before she’s off to bed as well.’
‘Thanks ever so much, Ellen,’ Patty said gratefully as she and Darky began to mount the stairs. ‘If you get into a fix and need help, get one of the neighbours’ kids to fetch me. But I expect Dr Evans is standing by, because you said Mrs Finnigan was very slight and …’
‘And her husband’s the size and build of a Herefordshire bull,’ Ellen shrieked happily at their retreating backs. ‘Thanks, queen, I won’t forget.’
‘What’s a primi thingy when it’s at home?’ Darky said curiously, as they reached the first landing. ‘Here, let me carry some of that stuff or you’ll be spilling it all over the place.’
‘No I shan’t, because I do this just about every night,’ Patty said rather breathlessly, though she let him take the black bag from her grasp with considerable relief. ‘As for a primigravida, it means a first time mother, that’s all. Mrs Finnigan is in labour with her first child, in other words.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Darky said rather blankly. ‘But what difference does it make? That she’s a first time mother, I mean?’
‘It means she’ll probably have a harder time than if she’d given birth before,’ Patty informed him, as they emerged on to the top landing. ‘The doctor should be standing by, but if he’s called to another case and Ellen finds her patient is struggling, then she can either call for me or she can send a message to the hospital for an experienced obstetrician – that’s a doctor who specialises in childbirth – to come to her aid.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ Darky said so quietly that Patty could scarcely hear him. ‘That – that was what should have happened with Alison … But there’s no point thinking of that.’
‘No, I’m afraid there isn’t,’ Patty said frankly. She had no wish to discuss another midwife’s incompetence with Darky, particularly since the woman in question had been dismissed from the service as a result of that incompetence. She wondered if Darky knew that, and, since he was still hovering at her side as she began to open her front door, decided to enlighten him. ‘Nurse Farthingdale was chucked out of the service as a result of what happened to your wife – but I expect you know that.’
She was looking at Darky’s face as she spoke and saw the incredulity and slowly dawning pleasure which crossed it. ‘You don’t say!’ Darky muttered. ‘Well, I wonder why no one ever told me, nor me mam either. I hope I’m not a vengeful man but the thought of that awful woman going round doing harm has haunted me for years. If only I’d known, Patty, I’d have been easier in me mind.’
‘I think the authorities wanted to keep it quiet, because of course it gives the hospital a bad name when they send out a midwife who behaves as Nurse Farthingdale did,’ Patty said quietly. ‘But I do think you and your mother – and your wife’s mother of course – should have been informed.’
‘They might have told me motherin-law,’ Darky said rather grimly. ‘But she’d not have said a word to me or me mam. She were a strange, bitter woman and blamed me for her daughter’s death. She moved back to Glasgow soon after Alison’s death – she only came down for her lying-in – and though we felt obliged to send a card at Christmas she’s never followed suit.’