Authors: Nadine Dorries
If it was the priest, he hardly needed help because he was known on all the wards as a regular visitor. According to Austin’s instructions, Stanley had already checked that the fire-escape door to the car park was unlocked and left slightly ajar, a spanner in his hand in case a curious nurse popped over to ask what he was doing.
Before he pulled the curtain across, he took a peep at the bed closest to the door. Lying there was a young thin girl, barely into her teens. Stanley found that a bit odd. Austin liked them younger even than Stanley, as did most of the men in their group. Age two to eight was Austin’s preference. Ah, thought Stanley, then it must be the priest; he seems to like them from quite young to right into their teens. Dirty bastard, he thought, as he put the door back with the bar not quite catching the lock. The irony was totally lost on him.
As soon as they were recovering and up and about, Kitty and Nellie begged to be put in charge of the night-time drinks trolley, while they helped the night nurse settle the younger patients down to sleep. The trolley had jugs of hot chocolate and Horlicks with plates of biscuits. They had never had anything other than tea at home. Hot chocolate was a luxury to be marvelled at.
Nellie and Kitty asked the nurses to keep their beds together and they moved progressively up the ward each morning. They pulled the curtains round to make their two beds into one when the doctors did the ward round. They had been like sisters before and, even with the age difference, they were more so now. Everyone loved them; they brought joy into a ward that could often be a heartbreaking place for staff.
They became so close they even got into each other’s beds where they would chat for hours. When the nurses came round they made them squeal with laughter, as Nellie would lie flat on her tummy and hide in Kitty’s bed under the covers. They were such a happy and pleasant pair, the ward staff would be sorry to see them both go, even Sister, who never laughed.
Kitty was very happy until, on the third day, Father James paid them a visit. Without warning, he suddenly appeared at the foot of Kitty’s bed, where Nellie was also lying, and offered them a jelly baby out of a crumpled white paper bag, which he took out of his cassock pocket.
‘Say no,’ Kitty whispered urgently, as he approached.
Nellie looked at Kitty in amazement. She was expecting Nellie to say no to sweets?
‘Do as I say,’ said Kitty, with such urgency in her voice that Nellie didn’t dare defy her, even though she loved jelly babies and didn’t get sweets very often.
Father James sat on the end of the bed in which they were both lying.
‘Your mammy asked me to pop by, Kitty, and say prayers with ye both for a speedy recovery, even for ye, Nellie,’ he said, looking at Nellie sneeringly. Father James had not forgiven Nellie for having the cheek to kick the door shut in his face just after Joseph was born.
Kitty said nothing. Nellie turned sideways and looked at her in amazement. Kitty was being rude in not speaking to Father James and Nellie knew that wasn’t allowed in the Doherty house.
Father James turned to Nellie. ‘I would like to have a quiet word with Kitty on me own. Nellie, would ye like to go and see if the nurses need ye for anything? Do ye not have your own bed to go to now, whilst Kitty has a visitor?’
Nellie immediately threw back the corner of the counterpane, ready to dive out of the bed and dash to the nurses’ office. Anything to get away from a strange and uncomfortable situation.
‘No,’ said Kitty so loudly that Nellie pulled the counterpane back in shock and didn’t move. Nellie always did everything Kitty told her.
Father James made small talk on his own for five minutes and then, after offering them the jelly babies again, took his leave to talk to another child at the top of the ward who went to the same school as the girls.
For the rest of the day, Kitty hardly spoke. Nellie had noticed that whilst Father James had been sitting on the bed talking, his hand had been pressed against Kitty’s thigh. While he spoke, Nellie stared at his hand and, when he became aware of it, he pulled it away sharply. Nellie watched Kitty’s face and thought she looked scared.
As he walked away back down the ward, Nellie took hold of Kitty’s hand and said, ‘I hate Father James so much.’
Kitty put her good arm round Nellie’s shoulders and hugged her.
‘God, I love you, so I do, Nellie Deane,’ she said and they both laughed.
Nellie asked Nurse Lizzie why Father James was in the ward so much.
‘He comes to pray over all the poorly children,’ said Lizzie. ‘Do you know him? Isn’t he just fantastic, he’s always popping in.’
Nellie didn’t know what this information meant, but she knew it wasn’t good. She knew the people she trusted the most in the world didn’t like Father James and that included Kitty and her Nana Kathleen. If they didn’t, neither did Nellie.
Each evening there was excitement on the ward, as the name of the child going home the next day was written on a board. Kitty and Nellie both cried when they discovered that Kitty was going home the day before Nellie.
Nellie wanted to go home. She desperately missed Joseph and Nana Kathleen and her da. Her da brought Joseph into the ward some nights, but she could see he was missing her too. Suddenly, now that Kitty was going home, everything had changed; she was very keen to leave herself.
Nellie and Kitty parted to sleep in their own beds on Kitty’s last night, after discussing how they would live in the same street when they grew up, become wedding-dress designers, or famous actresses, and marry two brothers so that they could become properly related.
They had lots of hugs from the nurses, but Kitty was nervous. She didn’t want to sleep alone in the going-home bed at the end of the ward. She begged the nurses to let her sleep with Nellie, but they wouldn’t agree. The two children finally parted when the nurses came to give Nellie a sedative, in preparation for her visit to theatre in the morning, to have the final bandages removed from her eye. As she left Nellie’s bed, Kitty wept. She told Nellie she was frightened, but Nellie couldn’t reply; the sedation had worked on her like a sledgehammer and she went out like a light.
Even though the ward was mainly in darkness, above each bed a nightlight dimly illuminated the faces of the sleeping children.
In the early hours of the morning, Nellie woke to see the curtain pulled round Kitty’s bed. She thought she had heard the fire-escape door click open. The drugs had made her very groggy and she tried to say Kitty’s name, but her tongue felt huge in her mouth and no sound came out. Kitty was in the going-home bed, tucked into the L-shaped bay at the end of the ward, the only bed away from the nurses’ line of vision. But it could be seen from Nellie’s bed, the last in the row running down the ward.
From the bed were sounds Nellie had never heard before. Desperately trying to fight the fog in her brain, she looked down the ward to the nurses’ office and then, unable to sit up or speak, she managed to roll herself onto her side to face Kitty’s bed, prop herself up on her elbow and rub her eyes.
Below the curtain, she saw what looked like a long black skirt and a pair of men’s boots.
Almost at the end of the ward, she could hear the low hum of female voices, as the night nurses, who had worked together for years, exchanged news and chatted in muted tones. Tonight was Sunday, which brought with it a nocturnal atmosphere of calm. No operations, no distressed relatives and no one’s child about to go to an early grave. The nurses were making the most of a quiet shift.
The telephone in the office suddenly rang and the sound glided down the ward, bouncing off the dreams of thirty sleeping little ones. It was quickly answered, before anyone woke, and Nellie heard the whispered tones of the night nurse swiftly followed by the ting of the bell, as she replaced the black Bakelite receiver.
Nellie heard the sound of the ward door swishing open and shut, followed by crepe-soled footsteps retreating down the corridor. She realized they would now be down to one nurse.
Nellie heard a new noise coming from behind Kitty’s curtain. The bed began to slowly creak as though a great weight were pressing onto it. The shoes and the black skirt had vanished.
Nellie couldn’t lift her head and her gaze seemed to be fixed down to the floor. She considered calling the nurse, but her tongue wouldn’t work properly. She knew she was desperately fighting a battle with the drug to stay awake. She also knew instinctively that Kitty needed help.
Suddenly she froze, seeing the wheels on Kitty’s bed moving slowly, backwards and forwards, straining against the brake on the wheel at the foot of the bed. Was someone taking Kitty’s bed away?
The noise of something falling caught her attention. She saw a red jelly baby plop onto the floor, and then straight after it, a green one. The bed began creaking rhythmically, faster and faster. Nellie stared in groggy amazement as brightly coloured confectionery rained down from Kitty’s bed and then, with an abrupt thud, a white paper packet of jelly babies fell and spewed its contents across the polished wooden floor. Just as the bed suddenly stopped moving and she heard a muffled gasp, she could fight the sedation no longer; her eyes closed as the drug did its work. She slept deeply and didn’t even hear the second click of the door.
The following morning, Kitty appeared quiet. Her sparkle had gone and Nellie, still groggy and having been given more sedation to prepare her for theatre, couldn’t remember what had been odd about the previous evening.
She and Kitty hugged tightly as the trolley came to take Nellie to theatre. When she returned to the ward, with all her bandages gone, Kitty’s bed was clean and made up. Maura had been to collect Kitty and left a note on Nellie’s bed.
Nellie’s eyes were still blurred and she couldn’t read the note.
‘God please, ye will be back with us tomorrow. Daddy coming to see you tonight, Maura XX.’
The nurse who read the note to Nellie said, ‘Well, there is no need for you to stay now, Nellie, your eye is healed beautifully and if your daddy is coming tonight, he can take you back home with him. You will be able to read in the morning and back to school on Monday.’
Nellie didn’t know why, but she cried with happiness. She no longer felt safe with Kitty gone. She wanted to go home to see Joseph and get back to her own world on the streets where she felt as if she was related to everyone.
That afternoon, Father James came to say hello. He told her she was a naughty little girl going home early. That he would have liked to come and give her a special goodbye that night, one that was reserved for little girls in the end bed. He had been looking forward to giving her the treat he said he saved for all the pretty little girls on the ward.
‘Why don’t you ask the nurse if you can stay until tomorrow and then I will come and see you tonight, with a goodbye surprise?’
He put his hand on the top of her leg and she stared at it, not knowing what to say. There was a note of desperate conspiracy to his voice, as though he was discussing something that Nellie already had knowledge of, something they had already talked about together, a plan she was already a part of. She looked on in silence. She knew something was very wrong, but didn’t know what.
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘it will be our special secret.’
Nellie looked to the ward door for her da, who was coming to collect her after work. She prayed sincerely, for the first time in her life, asking God to please not let anything stop her da from coming to get her. She saw Nurse Lizzie, taking the temperature of a child further up the ward, holding onto her fob watch to count out her minute.
Nellie suddenly shouted, ‘Nurse Lizzie!’ very loudly, and, like a black serpent, Father James gradually uncoiled himself. Whilst Nellie’s heart beat in terror at something, she did not know what, he rose and moved slowly away from her bed.
Once the girls were both home from hospital and Callum had done his penance, which was to clean the windows of both houses inside and out, life settled back to a normal pattern.
For everyone except Kitty.
For the last few years Kitty had been in an ever darker and more threatening place. She knew what Father James had done at the hospital. Stella McGinty had told Kitty the more specific facts of life in the playground only weeks earlier. It wasn’t a discussion that had taken place in Maura’s home, but Kitty knew Stella had been telling the truth.
Everyone made such a fuss of her when she came home from the hospital. Even Alice, who as a result of the accident had learnt the basic art of caring for others. Alice had imbued the raw concern emanated by Kathleen and Maura, and, on occasion, had found herself being needed and useful.
It didn’t happen automatically. She made a conscious effort on some days to look for something positive to do for someone else, but when she did she was well rewarded. After years of living within her own lonely capsule of solitude, she sometimes found herself smiling with pleasure.
Alice wrote Kitty a handmade card. It was the first she had ever written and it took her an agonizing hour to write her message. Kathleen watched Alice, sat at the table bent over her card, but offered no help. Ironically, Alice had to do this alone. Kathleen knew that the second time would be easier. When Alice put her pen down and folded the card, she felt exhausted.
‘A cuppa tea, Alice, for a job well done,’ said Kathleen, as she put a cup and saucer down in front of Alice and gave her a gentle hug as she walked away.
Peggy brought Kitty an opinion.
‘Jeez, Kitty, ye look so pale. Are ye sure she should be home yet, Maura?’ Peggy had demanded, when she came to the house to see Kitty for herself.
Her friends from school called round to visit and brought her handmade cards, letters from the teachers and home-made gifts. Her best friend Julia had made her a pincushion in the sewing class and had embroidered her name across the top in a pretty chain stitch.
‘It took me forever and a day!’ said Julia, as Kitty opened the little parcel.
‘Oh, Julia, ’tis so beautiful indeed,’ said Kitty, without a hint of enthusiasm in her voice.