A Mother's Courage (31 page)

Becky scrambled out of bed, almost knocking
Eloise down in her haste. 'You heard Tibbie,'
Becky said, pulling on her cotton dress and ramming
her curls into a mobcap. 'They're sticklers
for punctuality here, and there's morning
prayers to attend later. Best run, Ellen, or you
really will be in trouble.' With her boots in her
hand, Becky raced from the room and her bare
feet made soft pattering sounds on the floorboards
as she sped along the corridor.

Eloise followed them more slowly, cursing
herself for oversleeping. She had so wanted to be
there when Joss and Beth woke up, and now she
might have to wait all day before she had a
chance to go to the nursery. When she reached
the kitchen, she found that she was already in
Cook's black books for being five minutes late on
duty. She tried her best, but she could not concentrate
on the task in hand, and then, to make
matters worse, she dropped a pile of plates right
in front of Cook, who swiped her round the head
with her hand.

'That'll come out of your wages, Monk.'

'I'm sorry. It was an accident, Cook.'

'Don't give me none of your lip, girl. Clear up
that mess and then you can start filling the sink
in the scullery with hot water. I've got my eye on
you, Monk.' Cook went back to kneading bread
dough, punching it with her fists as if it had done
her some terrible wrong.

Eloise carried pan after pan of boiling water
from the range in the kitchen to the scullery. The
large stone sink never seemed to get any fuller,
and the water cooled so rapidly that topping it
up seemed like an endless task. Eloise tried hard,
but her thoughts were with Joss and Beth and she
simply could not give her full attention to her
work. Her hands seemed to be unconnected to
her brain and she spilled boiling water on the
kitchen floor, which had to be mopped up
quickly before it caused an accident. Then she
dropped a pan of porridge just as she was taking
it into the servants' hall for their breakfast. Tibbie
rushed to help her clear up the glutinous grey
mess, but there was a general outcry from the
hungry women, who would now have to make
do with bread and margarine. There was such an
uproar that Cook threatened to expel Eloise from
the kitchen if she did anything else wrong. This
gave her an idea. If she proved herself to be
totally inept she might be put to work scrubbing
floors or cleaning the wards.

After a breakfast of bread and scrape, which
she ate alone and in disgrace at a small table in
the corner of the servants' hall, Eloise waited for
a suitable moment to put her plan into action.
She helped Tibbie wash and dry the dishes, and
she was in the china cupboard stacking the clean
crockery away when Cook ordered her to leave
what she was doing and fill the hod with fuel for
the range. As she shovelled at the pile of coke in
the yard, Eloise knew exactly what she would
do. It was going to be a considerable risk, as she
might equally be given the sack, but she was
desperate. She hefted the hod into the kitchen
and was about to tip some onto the fire when she
pretended to slip, sending a shower of coke
cascading onto the floor. Her timing was perfect
and Cook, who had come in from the cold larder
carrying a plate piled high with offal, trod on a
lump of coke, staggered and fell. The plate flew
into the air, splattering its bloody contents over
Mrs Cater and two of the women who were up to
their elbows in making pastry, and finally
landing on the floor to mingle in a gory mess
with shards of china and lumps of coke.

'That's it!' Mrs Cater roared, scrambling to her
feet, red-faced and fuming. 'Get out of my
kitchen, girl. Get out and don't ever come back.'

'I'm very sorry, ma'am,' Eloise said humbly. 'It
was an accident.'

Mrs Cater shook her fist at her. 'Accident!
You're an accident. You're a disaster. I'm going
to tell Matron to send you packing.'

Miss Marchant was in her office. She did not look
too pleased at the interruption when Mrs Cater
dragged Eloise into the room, after a perfunctory
tap on the door.

'What is it, Cook?' Miss Marchant shifted her
angry gaze from Mrs Cater to Eloise and her lips
pursed as if she had just sucked a very sour
lemon. 'I might have guessed you would be at
the bottom of this, Monk.'

Eloise opened her mouth to argue, but Mrs
Cater pushed her aside. She leaned over the
desk, shoving her flushed face close to Miss
Marchant's. 'This person is causing mayhem in
my kitchen, Matron. I won't have it, I tell you.'

Miss Marchant sat back in her chair, steepling
her fingers and frowning. 'I knew that taking you
on was a mistake, Monk. I felt it in my bones, and
now you have proved my instincts to be correct.
You can pack up your bags and leave this
institution right now.'

'That's not fair, Matron,' Eloise protested,
desperate to save the situation. 'You have not
heard my side of things.'

Mrs Cater gave Eloise a spiteful dig in the ribs
with her elbow. 'You heard what Matron said.
You're not wanted here. Now get out.'

'I will not go without a fair hearing,' Eloise
cried angrily. 'What happened downstairs was
an accident. I'm not used to kitchen work.'

Miss Marchant rose to her feet. 'Enough of this,
Monk. You told Mr Caine that you were willing
to do anything. Now I find that you cannot be
trusted to do the simplest things that any of our
older girls could do with their eyes shut.'

'Ho! That explains it, ma'am,' Mrs Cater said
with a derisive chuckle. 'Monk must have had
her eyes shut and that's why she nearly wrecked
my kitchen. Throw her out, Matron. She's
nothing but trouble.'

'May I ask what is going on?' Caine strode into
the room. 'I could hear raised voices from my
office at the end of the corridor.'

A dark flush suffused Miss Marchant's normally
pale features and her eyes glittered with
malice. 'It is as I warned you, sir. This woman
has caused trouble from the moment you
employed her.'

'What have you to say for yourself, Miss
Monk?' Caine's expression remained as impassive
as ever. Eloise wondered what it would take
to crack his cast-iron countenance into a smile or
even a scowl.

'I admit that I have been clumsy, sir, but
everything that happened was an accident.'
Eloise spoke boldly. She guessed that Caine was
not a man who suffered fools gladly, nor one
who would accept lame excuses. 'I am sorry,' she
added, shooting a sideways glance at Mrs Cater.
'I will try to do better.'

'Not in my kitchen, you won't,' Mrs Cater
snarled. 'I wouldn't give you another chance not
if you was to go down on your bended knees.'

'Thank you, Cook,' Miss Marchant said, raising
her hand for silence. 'That will do. You may go
back to your work. I'll deal with this matter.'

'Yes, Matron.' Cook inclined her head and
stamped out of the office with an air of affronted
dignity.

'You see what this person has done, Mr Caine,'
Miss Marchant said, folding her hands primly in
front of her. 'Have I your permission to dismiss
her without a character?'

Eloise sent him a mute plea for clemency. She
held her breath, waiting for his decision, and he
met her anxious gaze with a long, cool look. She
had the uncomfortable feeling that he could see
into her soul and she looked away, biting her lip.
If only he would say something. She crossed her
fingers behind her back and willed him to speak
up for her.

'Well, sir?' Miss Marchant prompted, fingering
the chatelaine at her waist so that the keys jingled
impatiently on their chains.

'Miss Monk has apologised, Matron,' Caine
said slowly. 'She has admitted being clumsy and
unfitted for kitchen work. However, I think we
can afford to give her a second chance, although
I suggest that you find her work that keeps her
out of Cook's way.'

Miss Marchant's expression betrayed her
anger and frustration, but she managed a tightlipped
grimace and a nod of her head. 'Very well,
sir. If you say so.'

'I do say so, Matron.' Caine moved towards the
doorway, pausing to address Eloise in a stern
voice. 'Don't let me down, Miss Monk.'

Eloise could have cried with relief and she had
to suppress the desire to throw her arms around
him out of sheer gratitude, but she lowered her
gaze and bobbed a curtsey. 'I won't, sir. Thank
you, Mr Caine.'

He nodded brusquely and left the room.

'You might have fooled the governor,' Miss
Marchant hissed. 'But I have your measure,
madam. You will scrub the floors from the attics
to the basement, and if I find a speck of dirt at the
end of the day, you will be out on your ear. Just
because Mr Caine has seen fit to champion your
cause doesn't put you above the rest of my staff.
Do you understand me, Monk?'

'Yes, Matron.'

'Then get about your business. You will find
everything you need in the sluice, and your first
job tomorrow morning will be to empty the night
soil from the chamber pots in the dormitories
and to scour them out thoroughly. We'll see how
long you last here, Monk, but I'll wager it won't
be very long.'

'Yes, Matron,' Eloise murmured. 'Thank you,
Matron.'

Despite Miss Marchant's threat that Eloise
must scrub and clean the whole hospital on her
own, she was relieved to find that there were two
other women who came in daily to do the
cleaning. They eyed her suspiciously, as if they
thought that she was going to do them out of a
job, and reluctantly they showed her where to
find the mops, buckets and scrubbing brushes.
Eloise could hardly believe her luck when the
more vociferous of the two told her to begin on
the floor where the nurseries were situated.
Judging by the way they were smirking, they
thought they had done her a disservice, but
Eloise could have crowed with delight.

Garbed in a large white apron and with her
hair tucked into a mobcap, she hefted a pail of
water up two flights of stairs to the nursery floor
and began to scrub the floorboards, working her
way as swiftly as she could to the room where
she had found Joss and Beth. It was unnaturally
quiet in the corridor, but a friendly young nursemaid
informed Eloise that it was the children's
nap time. Their routine was strict and involved
naps both morning and afternoon. It was good
for the nippers, she said, grinning, and good for
the staff because it gave them time for a cup of
tea and a chat. Eloise worked on, getting nearer
and nearer to her children, and then the silence
was broken by a loud wail followed by heartbreaking
sobs. She knew instantly that it was
Joss, and without thinking she leapt to her feet
and raced down the corridor to fling the door
open. Standing up in his cot with his small
hands clutching the bars, Joss was almost
hysterical.

A nurse was attempting to pacify him, but
every time she tried to pick him up he kicked out
with his feet and screamed. She was alone in the
room, and the other infants had been awakened
by the noise and were starting to cry. She glanced
over her shoulder at Eloise. 'Who are you?'

'Just the cleaner,' Eloise murmured. She had to
stop herself from rushing across the floor and
snatching Joss from his cot. She must not make a
false move now, or she would give herself away.
She clasped her hands together so tightly that her
knuckles cracked. By this time, Joss had thrown
himself face down on the mattress and was in the
throes of a tantrum.

'Shut up, for Gawd's sake, you little horror,'
the nurse said angrily. 'Be quiet, boy. You're
waking the whole bloody lot of them.'

Eloise could stand it no longer. 'He's only a
baby,' she said, controlling her voice with
difficulty. 'Here, let me have a try.'

'He's a wild one,' the nurse said, backing away
from the cot. 'I reckon he's not right in the head.
He'll end up in the loony bin.'

Eloise lifted Joss from the cot, hugging him to
her breast. 'Don't say things like that. He's just
upset.'

At the sound of her voice, Joss immediately
began to quieten. His loud wailing calmed down
to great heaving sobs, and he turned his head to
stare up into her face wide-eyed but seemingly
without recognition. Frightened by his vacant
expression, Eloise wiped his tears away with the
tips of her fingers. 'There, there, it's all right, my
pet.'

His eyes searched her face but still he did not
seem to know her. It was only then that Eloise
realised the full horror of what she had done to a
helpless child. It was as though he had awakened
from a nightmare but could not drag himself
back to reality. She rocked him in her arms,
stroking his damp curls back from his forehead.
'Oh, my baby,' she whispered. 'What have I done
to you?'

'That's shut him up,' the nurse said, grinning.
'You got a way with nippers. What's your
name?'

'Ellen. What's yours?'

'Phoebe. I'm ain't been here long, but they go
and put me in charge of these wild things. Gawd
knows where they come from or what they
might have wrong with them. Some of them
comes in with their heads full of lice and we has
to shave their hair off, and others is covered with
scabs and sores. At least that one is fairly clean,
and so is the little one who come with him.
Matron reckons they're brother and sister, but
the boy is dumb. He don't say a word.'

'Dumb!' Eloise stared at her in dismay. 'He
was making enough noise just now.'

'Oh, he's got a temper all right. Needs a good
smack round the lughole if you asks me, but we
ain't allowed to hit them. More's the pity I say.
They needs discipline from a young age, or
that's what my mum says, and she never
spared the rod. I got ridges on me backside to
prove it.'

Beth sneezed and began to whimper. With Joss
clinging to her like a small limpet, Eloise reached
over to lift Beth from her cot. Glancing over her
shoulder she saw that Phoebe was fully occupied,
attempting to restore a semblance of order to the
nursery, and Eloise cuddled her children, whispering
words of comfort and assuring them that
she was not far away and would come and see
them every day. Beth snuggled up to her and
smiled, but Eloise could not tell whether Joss had
understood, and this was more distressing than
all his tears and tantrums.

Phoebe had managed at last to soothe most of
the infants, and she bustled up to Eloise with a
new air of confidence. 'Well, don't that beat all?
That's the first time I've managed all on me own,
with a bit of help from you, of course, Ellen.' She
held her arms out. 'Let me take the boy and I'll
sort his wet bum out. Perhaps that will put him
in a better temper.'

Joss recoiled visibly at the sight of her, and
Eloise clutched him even tighter. 'Let me do it,
Phoebe.'

'I dunno about that,' Phoebe said, shaking her
head. 'Matron will chew me ears off if she finds
out that I let a charwoman do me job.'

'I got six younger brothers and sisters at home.
I bet I've changed more wet bums than you have,
and I like babies.' The lies came tripping off her
tongue, but Eloise did not care if she died and
went to hell; nothing could be worse than being
separated from her children and this was her
chance to give Joss some loving care and attention.
It broke her heart to realise that he had
withdrawn into a world of his own where she
could not reach him.

'Oh, all right then. I suppose it won't hurt just
this once, but you'll get into trouble if Matron
finds out you've not done the cleaning.'

'I was nearly finished anyway, and I'll work
twice as fast when I've settled these two little
moppets.' Eloise settled Beth back in her cot
while she saw to Joss, and he allowed her to
change him without a protest.

Phoebe cocked her head on one side and she
ran to the door, opening it a crack and peering
out. 'Hurry up, Ellen. Matron is doing her
rounds. You'd best get out of here or we'll both
be in trouble.'

With a final kiss on their cheeks, Eloise had to
drag herself away from her children. With the
utmost reluctance, she slipped out of the nursery
unseen by Matron, who had stopped to speak to
another nurse just a little way along the corridor.
With renewed vigour, Eloise set about scrubbing
the floorboards. Her joy on being reunited with
her babies was tempered by concern for Joss.
Beth was too young to be fully aware of what had
happened to them, but Joss was obviously in a
state of shock and his inability or unwillingness
to speak was more frightening than a hundred
screaming fits. She must visit them as many
times a day as she could manage, but she must
also take care not to antagonise Matron any
further. It was going to be difficult, but where her
children were concerned anything was possible,
and no risk too great.

The rest of the morning passed uneventfully
and even Matron could find no fault with the
quality of Eloise's work. The other two charwomen
eyed her warily and made it plain that
they did not appreciate someone who worked
too hard, but Eloise was unrepentant. She was,
however, a little anxious as to her reception from
the rest of the staff when she went down to the
dining room for their main meal, which was
served after the children had eaten at midday.
Having spilt and spoilt their breakfast porridge
and caused Cook to have an accident, Eloise was
certain that she would be the most unpopular
person in the whole hospital. It was hunger that
finally forced her to enter the dining room, which
she did with a determined lift of her chin, ready
to parry any barbed comments she might
receive. It came as a surprise to find that, far from
being a pariah, she was welcomed with smiles
and pats on the back.