‘We’ll need a nurse. I think I know of the very person.’
‘Excellent.’
Nurse Shaw was asked to call at the surgery, was interviewed by Dr Syd and hired on the spot. With renewed determination, Bella took it upon herself as the lay member of the team to write begging letters for donations to everyone she could think of. Unfortunately, most either refused point-blank to help, or ignored her request completely. Finding a venue for the public meeting proved to be another stumbling block. No one was willing to run the risk of trouble. Finally she wrote to Marie Stopes herself who offered what support she could by suggesting some interested persons who lived in the area. By this means a local magistrate’s wife stepped in to help and a date was arranged for a meeting to be held at Pendelton Town Hall.
Every newspaper editor in the two cities of Manchester and Salford was given notice of the meeting and there was nothing more to be done then but pray.
The meeting took place on March 3rd, 1928 with over two hundred people, mainly women, attending. A committee of four was elected comprising Bella as Organising Secretary; Mrs Lawton, a magistrate’s wife, as Honorary Treasurer; plus Dr Syd and Nurse Shaw. Unfortunately, though it was plainly evident that such a clinic would be popular, those attending did not have the wherewithall to fund it. Not a single newspaper sent a reporter to cover the event and only four pounds was collected in coppers at the door, which was nowhere near enough to rent suitable premises and launch the clinic. Undaunted, Bella persisted, asked around and finally persuaded Mrs Heap to rent them the two rooms over her cook shop.
‘Call me Aunt Edie,’ she said in her friendly way. ‘Everyone else does. Being widowed, I’m no longer troubled by such matters, but I’m only too happy to help other married women who suffer as I did. Right drunken layabout my husband were. A drench of cold water would’ve done him good at times.’
The good lady even went so far as to help Bella and her team of helpers scrub out the entire premises with carbolic soap. Jinnie gladly volunteered to lend a hand though Bella expressed some concern that she didn’t overexert herself as she’d seemed somewhat tired and withdrawn lately, not quite her usual ebullient self.
The clinic opened quietly and without fuss and a few women came, hesitantly at first, creeping up the stairs like pioneers into a strange land. They kept their heads carefully covered by shawl or scarf, unwilling to risk anyone recognising them, in particular their husbands who would consider any form of artificial interference as undermining their masculine pride and virility. But then the trickle became a flow and within a week a couple of dozen women had been seen for their first appointments. Those who were able to pay the shilling fee gladly did so, while women who couldn’t, were treated for nothing.
Encouraged by this good response, Bella called a second meeting, this time to be held in the Co-operative rooms. If they were going to survive beyond a month or two, they desperately needed more money. Again the place was packed to the doors, this time not only with valiant supporters but protesters as well. These made such a disturbance in the street outside that it brought out a rash of newspaper reporters from both cities, curious to know what was going on.
Within days the local press was bursting with articles, many of them sympathetic though some expressed self-righteous outrage at the very idea.
The Catholic Herald
was particularly vociferous, using emotive phrases such as “thwarting natural law”, “defeating God’s plans” and “indulging in sin”, even speaking of “vicious practices”.
The result, however, so far as the new Mothers’ Clinic was concerned was astonishing. Money started to roll in. The newspapers, churches, and Anti-Birth Control League of Protesters had done more to publicise the new clinic with their protests, than Bella and her able volunteers could ever have hoped to do. Within a month they’d opened a bank account and deposited several hundreds of pounds. They were up and running.
It was one evening as Bella was locking up the clinic and making her way out through Edith Heap’s shop that she came across Dan Howarth. He was queuing up for his supper, he told her, indicating the rack of hot meat and potato pies and would she like to share it with him? Since the delicious aroma seeping up the stairs had been making her juices run for some hours, how could she resist? Bella accepted the hot pie with gratitude and they walked together along Liverpool Street, unashamedly eating them.
‘Oh this is good. You’ve no idea how hungry I was. I’ve been so busy at the clinic I must’ve forgotten to eat lunch.’
Dan laughed as he watched her brush the last crumb from her lips. They were rather nice lips and his gaze lingered upon them for several seconds. ‘I reckon I can tell, since you’ve wolfed that pie down in double quick time.
Shall I go and get you another?’
‘No, no, that would be far too greedy, and there’s really no need. I feel much better now. Almost human in fact. Thanks.’
‘Don’t mention it.’ There was a slight pause as they walked along, Dan quickly finishing his own pie. Even the way she spoke indicated the yawning chasm between them. What she called lunch, he knew as dinner. She certainly didn’t look the sort to eat hot pies. He carefully wiped his mouth, then cleared his throat before politely remarking, ‘You’re kept pretty busy then, in that clinic. How’s it doing?’
‘Oh, fine. Absolutely fine.’ For the first time in her life Bella suddenly felt embarrassed and shy. She wasn’t too sure whether it would be quite appropriate to discuss the work of the clinic, or even its aims, with a single male. She didn’t, in any case, know Dan all that well since he was usually at work when she called on his mother. Perhaps he was suffering from a similar affliction Bella decided, as silence fell upon them again as they progressed along the street.
‘How about a drink to wash the pie down?’ Dan hesitated outside The Ship, wondering what he could say to persuade her to agree. ‘Or happen you’re in a hurry to get home afore it gets dark?’ Blast! Now he’d given her an excuse to refuse.
‘No, no. A drink would be lovely. I’ve never been in a pub before.’
‘Never? By heck,’ Dan said with a grin. ‘Then it’s time we changed that. I’m fond of a pint meself. But don’t tell me Dad. He’s teetotal.’
Bella was laughing now as he led her to the quietest corner of the lounge bar that he could find. ‘I believe your mother has mentioned the fact once or twice.’
Dan cast her a sideways grin. ‘I dare say she’s told you all sorts of stuff about us. You might be safe to believe about half of it. You have to have a good sense of humour to live with my mam.’
‘I can imagine. Oh, I always take Violet with a large pinch of salt.’
He brought her a glass of port and lemon which seemed to Dan a ladies’ sort of drink, and a pint of best bitter for himself. Though he hastened to assure her that he was no more than a moderate drinker. ‘Not like some round here.’
‘I’d noticed.’
They sat for an hour or more over their drinks and Bella soon forgot her shyness, as she enjoyed talking with him. Born and brought up in the rough and tumble of Salford the image he presented was of a strong, clean, sound sort of chap who could make his mark without throwing his weight about. With his powerful physique, square-jawed face, broad nose and fair hair cut close to the head, he might have been taken for a pugilist were it not for the gentleness of his blue-grey eyes, and open friendly smile.
‘Happen we could do this again some time,’ he said, as they parted at the end of the street.
‘I’d like that,’ Bella agreed and, as she walked away, keenly aware of those eyes following her, realised that she meant it.
Bella found that she loved working at the clinic. She brought in a box of toys to keep the children amused while their mothers waited to be seen by the doctor. She set two or three chairs against the wall but the rest of the women waited happily enough on the stairs, gossiping to each other to pass the time.
The first task was for them to be seen by an experienced helper. Bella drafted in a couple of married women for this job. They would fill in a case card with a patient’s medical history and discuss any particular difficulties. Sometimes this took quite a while but no one was allowed to feel under pressure or hurried in any way. After that the woman would go in to see Dr Syd for a consultation and full medical examination. Patients who hadn’t already been too badly damaged by child bearing were then left with Nurse Shaw to be fitted with an appliance, and given the necessary instruction. After the doctor had checked that all was well and any fears mollified it was Bella’s job to hand out a printed card with the woman’s next appointment, as well as to arrange a suitable time for a home visit.
The clinic was only open a few hours each week, from 9.30 to noon on a Tuesday morning and 7.00 to 9.30 p.m. on a Thursday evening but whenever she wasn’t occupied doing home visits, Bella would often pop in, perhaps to do paperwork, send out further requests for donations, or simply to tidy up or do a spot of cleaning. Also, Dr Syd would often ask her to write to other clinics, already operational, for advice on some problem or other, so her correspondence load was heavy. Not that she minded in the least. Bella wanted the clinic to be a success and meant to do everything in her power to ensure that it was. She wrote again to Dr Stopes to keep her informed of their progress and was delighted to receive an encouraging letter in response. And as she worked she would think about how the clinic, and Jinnie of course, had changed her life completely.
She was a little concerned about Jinnie who’d taken to going out on her own quite a lot recently. Which was strange, considering how carefully she had kept within doors ever since she’d arrived. Perhaps she visited old friends, or even met up with Edward at some secret rendezvous, as lovers so. On the other hand perhaps, like herself, Jinnie was glad of any excuse to escape the depressing atmosphere of Seedley Park Road. Bella vowed to speak to her on the matter, make sure that there were no problems. Emily was not an easy woman at the best of times.
Bella had been tempted on numerous occasions to unmask her mother’s illness as the sham it truly was but had resisted, on the grounds that it was Doctor Lisle’s responsibility to decide what was best for the welfare of his patient, and not hers. Hadn’t he told her so a dozen times? Besides, her mother must be both clever and exceedingly determined if she was prepared to suffer such miserable confinement in order to fool everyone, even her own doctor, so any attempt to foil her little scheme could have unknown repercussions. Another tantrum perhaps, even a genuine stroke, and Bella had no wish to be the one to cause it.
When Bella wasn’t at the clinic she spent practically all her spare time calling on patients to check that they were coping and experiencing no problems. Hygiene was of paramount importance and she used a good deal of the clinic’s funds in purchasing soap and doling it out to those in need. Sometimes she found that a woman had stopped using the contraceptaline because of cost, resorting to Vaseline instead. Or the pessary had been lost and the patient was afraid to return for another.
Having persuaded Mrs Blundell to attend the clinic she called on her one day to check on progress, only to be confronted by an irate husband filling the doorstep with his powerful bulk so that Bella was blocked from entering, despite his wife’s pleas that she be allowed in.
‘I’ll not have her getting up to mischief while I’m at work,’ he roared, waving a huge fist in Bella’s face. ‘I threw the bloody thing on t’fire.’
A voice called out from behind him in the lobby. ‘Daft bugger. I told him I weren’t playing away, but would he bleedin’ listen?’
‘Don’t argue with me, woman.’
Bella tried desperately to intervene and calm tempers down. ‘I’m sure Mrs Blundell would never do any such thing. The help we give her at the clinic is for
your
sake as much as hers, so that you and she can enjoy a happy marriage without fear of the consequences.’
‘Pull the other leg and see if that’s got bells on.’
Bella spent an hour or more attempting to persuade him otherwise, with half the street privy to the noisy argument but was forced to admit defeat when he practically pushed her backwards into the gutter, yelling that she’d turned his wife into a whore and he wouldn’t stand for it.
Within weeks following this incident Mrs Blundell popped in to Aunt Edie’s cook shop and sadly confessed she’d fallen yet again. Bella chanced to be in the shop at the time, having a chat before going upstairs to open the clinic.