The District Nurses of Victory Walk

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‘I just took a funny turn. I said to my wife, you go and see yer sister like you was going to before I had my bit of trouble. Ain’t no need for you to stay home and look after me. Then I thought as I might as well go to work cos I was feeling so much better – but I had a funny turn. Me neighbour come in and help me and then sent for you.’ He fell back against the cushion as if worn out.

Alice took his pulse and temperature, and assessed his breathing, then leant back. ‘What did the doctor say after you had your accident?’ she asked.

‘Oh, doctors.’ The man, who was probably in his fifties, gave a snort of contempt. ‘Nobody would ever get anything done if they was to listen to doctors. Stay in bed, take it easy, all that rubbish. I don’t pay no attention to them.’

Alice noticed the neighbour moving towards the door, mouthing, ‘I’ll be next door if you need me’, clearly eager to get back to her own business. Alice was glad – that meant there would be no one to witness the telling off she felt obliged to give her patient.

‘Now, Mr Leagrave,’ she began, quietly but firmly, aware that here was a man of definite opinions. The problem was, if he kept to them, he’d be putting himself in danger. Gently but insistently, she explained this to him. ‘The doctor didn’t advise you to rest because he couldn’t think of anything else,’ she finished. ‘He said it because it was what you need to do. And now, look what happens when you go against that. So you had better promise me you’ll rest like he told you.’

Ernest Leagrave looked too worn out to argue, but nodded. ‘Yes, Nurse. I see that now.’

‘Good.’ Alice sat back. ‘Rest really is the best medicine. Then you’ll be able to return to work sure as eggs is eggs.’

‘That’s what I want, Nurse. I hate sitting around on my arse doing nothing,’ Ernest confessed. ‘I never was one for doing nothing. Just ask anyone who knows me.’ He nodded to a shape behind him, and Alice realised someone else had come into the room, so quietly she hadn’t heard them. ‘Here’s my colleague from the GPO, he’ll tell you. Isn’t that right, Joe?’

‘Oh, I don’t doubt it,’ said Alice comfortingly, and then did a double take when she saw who the newcomer was, recognising Joe Banham, the man who’d treated her curtly when she’d met him at Victoria Park with Edith. She swallowed hard. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Banham. I didn’t realise you’d come in.’ She stood. ‘I was just leaving.’

‘I’ve been here for a few minutes, you seemed engrossed in your work and I didn’t want to interrupt.’

Alice was flummoxed knowing that Joe had been quietly watching her while she treated his friend. There was a smile in his eyes that she didn’t remember from their last meeting.

‘What about payment, Nurse? I want things done proper,’ Ernest insisted.

Alice waved his suggestion aside. ‘No, no, Mr Leagrave. You pay into the scheme and, besides, I haven’t done anything except talk.’

‘Made me feel a good deal better though, Miss,’ he said stoutly. ‘You’re a tonic to behold, you are. You and that friend of yours, you tell her thanks again from me.’

‘I will, thank you,’ Alice said, picking up her bag and making for the door, avoiding eye contact with Ernest’s visitor.

‘I’ll see you out, Miss Lake,’ said Joe Banham. ‘Give me one moment, Ernie, and I’ll be back.’ He slipped out behind Alice as she went through the front door and into the narrow ribbon of a garden.

‘Really, there’s no need,’ she said. ‘You go and see your friend. Just don’t tire him out or let him do too much – that’s what’s brought him to this state to begin with.’ She spoke with more asperity than she’d intended, but somehow this man got under her skin. Especially as there wasn’t much room in this tiny garden.

‘I know,’ Joe said, and there was no disapproval in his voice this time. ‘I heard what you said to him just now. I wanted to thank you for being so straightforward – Ernie’s a good bloke but stubborn as they come.’ He paused, then gave a half-laugh. ‘I think I owe you an apology, Miss Lake.’

‘Really, Mr Banham?’ She raised an eyebrow, turning to face him full on.

He nodded. ‘Here am I doing the very thing I blamed my sister for, talking about a friend behind their back. So I’m sorry. I can see how good you are with patients now. I got the wrong idea before. Just being over-protective, that’s all. Kathleen’s been unlucky.’

Alice didn’t know what to say for a moment, it was so unexpected – first to bump into the man again and then to hear this. ‘Well, thank you,’ she managed, trying to put aside the quiet fury she had felt at the time. ‘I’m only doing what is best for the patients – I’d never do anything else. It’s not gossip if you’re telling me something that will help them.’

‘No, I understand now.’ He straightened. ‘Anyway, I hear my brother is taking your friend to the pictures this evening.’

‘So I believe,’ said Alice, not wanting to get drawn in. She still wasn’t sure if she could trust him.

‘Jamaica Inn, possibly,’ Joe went on.

‘Possibly.’ Alice couldn’t see what business it was of his. ‘Personally I think I’d prefer the book.’

‘Yes, you can’t beat a good book,’ Joe agreed, his eyes lighting up.

Despite herself, Alice responded. ‘Exactly.’

‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘I’m a member of the Billet Library in Upper Clapton. Shall I see if they’ve got it? That’s if you haven’t read it?’

Alice was taken aback both by the turn of the conversation and the offer, but couldn’t see how to say no and not sound rude. What harm could it do to accept? Perhaps she had been wrong about the man. He’d admitted it, so she should be able to acknowledge it as well. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘That would be kind. I haven’t read it yet.’

‘You should join the library if you like books,’ he went on, warming to his theme. ‘It’s a subscription one but it gets all the latest titles. If you’re interested, that is. It’s not far, you could cycle there.’ He looked dubiously at the boneshaker.

‘I might,’ said Alice, not wanting to commit to anything. ‘If I have time.’

‘Oh, of course.’ Joe seemed to take that as a dismissal. ‘Well, I’d better be getting back to Ernie. See if he needs anything. Goodbye, Miss Lake.’

Alice began to push her bike, aware of a strange feeling as she squeezed past him in the narrow space. ‘Thanks again.’ She looked at him as he turned to go. He had very deep brown eyes. She remembered the anger he had provoked, how intense it had seemed, and still wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. ‘Goodbye, Mr Banham.’

‘Alice! Alice! Are you awake?’

Edith crept into her friend’s room, guided by the light of the streetlamp outside.

‘What? What’s happened?’ Alice woke up in confusion. ‘Edie, is that you? Is something wrong? Whatever time is it?’

‘Yes, it’s me. Nothing’s wrong, don’t worry,’ hissed Edith, skirting around the question of what time it was. ‘I just got back. Sorry, did I wake you? I thought you might still be up reading or something.’

‘No, but it doesn’t matter.’ Alice rolled over and sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘How did it go?’

Edith sat down on the bed in front of her friend. There was enough light for Alice to see how animated she was. ‘It was lovely. It was the best evening I’ve had for ages. Much better than dancing at the Paramount. He’s really nice, Alice, really nice.’

‘Good,’ said Alice, who was used to Edith’s conquests. Even so, it was unlike her to be so enthusiastic quite so soon. ‘So what did you do?’

‘He met me at the bus stop and we went to the cinema. He bought me an ice cream. He was a proper gent while the film was on, didn’t try anything on or nothing.’

‘What was the film like?’

‘Oh, it was scary, a girl gets trapped in a remote inn full of smugglers—’

‘Don’t tell me the whole plot, I might read the book soon,’ Alice interrupted.

‘All right, keep your hair on. You did ask. Anyway it was a great yarn, you’d like it. It was romantic, too, but I shan’t tell you why or it’ll spoil it. He did hold my hand a bit at the end.’

‘The film must have finished ages ago,’ Alice said. ‘What happened then?’

‘We went for fish and chips. He bought them, he’s very generous. Then we went to the pub to meet some of his friends.’

‘Edie, have you been drinking?’ Alice was wide awake now. ‘With someone you hardly know?’

Edith shifted a little. ‘Don’t worry, I only had lemonade. I’m not daft. He introduced me to his friends and they all seemed to like me. He’s a boxer, you know.’

‘A boxer?’

‘Yes, just amateur for now, but he thinks he’s going to make it big.’ Edith nodded. ‘Imagine! He could be famous. He’s already been in the local paper. This is just the start, he says.’

‘Goodness.’ Alice didn’t know much about boxing and wasn’t sure what to say. It sounded like a dangerous hobby.

‘Then he walked me all the way home. We couldn’t stop talking. You know sometimes you run out of things to say to someone – well, it wasn’t like that at all. You’d like him, Al. He knows lots of stuff.’

‘Maybe,’ said Alice.

‘I said we’d meet him, you and me and Mary, and he’ll bring along his friends.’

‘I don’t know …’

‘Oh, don’t be a spoilsport, Al. You’d have fun. You can’t hide away with your books for the rest of your life. Not after Mark and everything …’

Alice pushed back her hair behind her ears. ‘I’m not hiding away. I just like a nice night in with my books. We’ll see. I’m sure Mary will go out with you. Anyway, how did you get back in? Isn’t it after curfew? Oh, Edie, not again!’

Edith shook her dark curls. ‘No, no, it’s fine – I was just in time. About thirty seconds to go, I reckon. I was very careful. Even so, I crept along so I wouldn’t wake Gwen or Fiona. So it’s all turned out fine.’

‘You were lucky though.’

‘That’s me,’ said Edith confidently. ‘Look, I’ll leave you to sleep.’

‘Don’t you want to know about your patient, the postman?’ Alice wondered.

‘Tell me tomorrow. Night night.’ Edith slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d come in.

Alice was left to try to get back to sleep, noting that Edith hadn’t asked what sort of evening she’d had. But then, she hadn’t tried to tell her. Maybe she should have mentioned meeting Joe, and his offer to find her the book. Then again, perhaps she’d keep that to herself for the time being. It was hardly the same thing. And she couldn’t quite explain the sensation that thinking of him gave her – no longer anger, or righteous indignation, but something not quite describable either.

CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_a99abdee-973e-5280-816c-2caed8f3b073)

Kathleen woke with a start and for a moment couldn’t work out what the noise was. She tried to make out the time on her battered old enamel alarm clock, but it was barely dawn and still too dark to see. The banging was coming from the front door. Still foggy from sleep, she swung her legs out of bed and pushed her feet into her well-worn slippers. She had to stop the banging before it woke Brian. He’d taken ages to get off last night and an early wake-up was the last thing he needed.

‘Kathleen! Open up!’ came a voice.

For a moment she was seized with terror. Last week a man had come to the door, banging on it just like this. It had been in the middle of the morning, as she was thinking about going to the market to see if there were any bargains; perhaps some rolls at the bakery left over from the day before that would be all right for toast. The man’s voice had been aggressive and she had instinctively ducked out of sight in case he tried to look through the window. Most people would have given up after a minute, assuming nobody was in, but this man had just kept on, then shouted, ‘I know you’re in there’ very loudly, enough to annoy the Coynes upstairs.

Mrs Coyne had come to the window. ‘What’s all the bleedin’ fuss about?’ she had demanded.

‘Where’s your neighbour?’ the man had shouted back.

‘How the hell should I know? I’m not her bleedin’ keeper, am I?’

There had been the sounds of shuffling feet as the man had indeed gone to peer through the window. Kathleen had crouched, trembling, against the wall beside the bed, praying the noise wouldn’t wake Brian.

‘Well, you tell her next time you see her that she’s behind with the rent and the landlord won’t stand for it. She’s got a week to make up the shortfall or she’s out,’ the man roared up at Mrs Coyne.

‘Tell her yerself, I ain’t doin’ your dirty work.’ She had slammed the window.

Kathleen had sent up a prayer of thanks. Usually the Coynes were the first to complain if she made too much noise or left baby clothes dripping for too long outside, but they didn’t like the landlord any more than she did.

A minute or so later, an envelope fluttered through her letterbox, addressed to her in an angry scrawl. Then there had been the sound of retreating footsteps. She had waited a further ten minutes before she felt safe to move to retrieve it. With shaking hands she tore it open, to find what she had feared: a demand to pay her rent arrears in full by this time next week or she’d be evicted. She had no way to find that amount of money. She could barely afford stale bread.

Dismayed, she’d forced herself up and made a cup of weak tea before collapsing at the little table. She knew she had to think, to plan, but no ideas came. Short of a miracle, or Ray sending some money, which was even more unlikely, she was done for.

She had no idea how long she had sat there like that, when there came another tap at the door, this time followed by a familiar voice, a friendly one.

‘Kath, you in?’

Kathleen sighed in relief and went to open the door. It was her old school friend, Billy Reilly. He worked down at the docks and occasionally did early or late shifts so he was free in the daytime. Now and again he would drop by, just for old times’ sake. She always loved to see him as he seemed to know what to say to cheer her up.

‘All right, Kath? How’s the nipper?’ Billy came in and then took in the expression on her face. ‘Kath, what’s up? You look like you seen a ghost.’

Kathleen hurriedly shoved the envelope in her patch pocket and ran her other hand through her hair, trying to appear normal. ‘Nothing, Billy. Nothing at all. How are you? Care for a cuppa?’ She spoke as brightly as she could. There was no way on this earth that she would admit to anyone how much money she owed. She went through to the tiny back kitchen to boil the kettle, gritting her teeth with the effort of not showing her despair.

Billy had always been kind to her at school, although they hadn’t known each other very well as he was in the year above her. He’d stayed friends with the Banhams, which meant she saw more of him, and they’d become friendlier. Then she’d met Ray, and everything else had taken second place.

She recalled one incident when she and Ray had been courting for a few months and he’d agreed to go to the pub with her old friends. Afterwards he’d been strangely quiet, his face tight with suppressed emotion. Finally she could bear it no more and asked what was wrong.

‘What’s the story between you and Billy?’ he had demanded.

She’d been taken totally by surprise. ‘Nothing. There’s no story. We was at school together, just like the rest of them.’

Ray had huffed in disbelief. ‘I don’t like the way he looks at you. You been leading him on or something?’

‘What? Billy? He’s a mate, nothing more,’ she had protested, sensing a side to Ray she hadn’t seen before. She’d known he could be very protective. But she hadn’t realised he could be jealous.

‘You make sure that’s all it is,’ he had snarled, gripping her arm and lowering his face close to hers, and for a moment she thought he was going to turn on her. Then he had smiled his usual charming smile and the dark moment passed. ‘There’s only one man for you, Kath, and that’s me. You don’t need no other,’ he had said, slinging his arm around her shoulder, and she had looked up at him and smiled back in delight, because she believed he would look after her and love her.

She shook her head. That had been a long time ago now.

The familiar ritual of making a pot of tea had calmed her, and by the time she’d brought it through to Billy, her hands were steady again.

He’d stayed for a while to make small talk, producing a little rattle he’d picked up ‘for next to nothing’ and waving it at a now fully awake Brian, who had waved his arms back. Kathleen had beamed in pleasure, watching another stage of her baby learning how to reach for an object, loving his big smile.