The District Nurses of Victory Walk

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Copyright © Annie Groves 2018

Cover design by Holly Macdonald©HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2018

Cover photograph©Jonathan Ring (models); Trevillion Images (background)

Annie Groves asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008272210

Ebook Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008272227

Version: 2018-05-09

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Keep Reading …

About Annie Groves

Also by Annie Groves

About the Publisher

Dedication

Many thanks to the redoubtable Teresa Chris, and for the invaluable encouragement and support from editor Kate Bradley and copy editor Pen Isaac. Also to the staff of the Queen’s Nursing Institute, especially Matthew Bradby and Christine Widdowson.

CHAPTER ONE

June 1939

‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ asked Edith, putting her hand to her head as the early summer breeze threatened to blow her nurse’s hat into the dusty road. ‘Wasn’t it meant to be five minutes from the bus stop? I bet we’ve walked for longer than that. My feet are killing me.’

Alice checked the piece of paper again. ‘I can’t see where we could have gone wrong. Anyway, Edie, we haven’t been walking for more than a few minutes. Don’t take on so.’ She looked down at her colleague with good humour – Edith barely reached her shoulder. ‘Let’s go to the next corner and see if we can spot it from there. If we see anyone we can ask.’

Edith grimaced but, left with little choice, gamely picked up her case once more and followed Alice, whose longer stride meant she was always slightly ahead. In her other hand she carried her precious nurse’s bag. The rows of terraced houses they passed all looked the same, three storeys high if you counted the big basements, with bay windows and steep stone steps, but narrow-fronted, built to fit a lot of people into a small space. They didn’t have much in the way of front gardens, just an area where you could leave dustbins or reach the basement door. Still, Edith told herself, it wasn’t as grim as the street she had grown up in, on the other side of the river in south London. This was bright in comparison. It wouldn’t be too bad at all.

Alice came to a sudden halt and Edith nearly smacked into her. The taller young woman pointed at a street sign. ‘There we are. Victory Walk.’

Edith looked up, pushing one of her stray dark curls out of her eyes. Try as she might they would never do as she wanted, and she’d been in trouble with her previous matron because of that – and for numerous other reasons as well. ‘So it is. Victory Walk. Suppose it was named after we won the Great War, though I bet the houses were built ages before that. Are we at this end?’

Alice looked at the houses on the corners. ‘No, I don’t think so. They said it was a bigger house and we’d know it straight away. Must be further along.’

Edith groaned as her shoulder protested at the weight of her case.

Alice smiled in sympathy. ‘Buck up, Edie. Not far now.’

‘Easy for you to say, with your long legs,’ Edith grumbled, but picked up her case once more. ‘I’m sure it’s further than five minutes …’

‘It won’t be. Not when we aren’t carrying these great lumbering things,’ Alice pointed out. ‘We’ll be on and off those buses in a jiffy. You can get to the West End as quickly as you like on your days off.’ She paused as they got to the other end of the short road. ‘Here we are. They were right, there’s no mistaking it.’

Both young women set down their cases and nurses’ bags and stood to take in the first sight of what would be their new home, and also the base for their work. It was in the style of the rest of the street but felt grander, being double-fronted, standing a little taller than the buildings around it, and there were attic windows too. The sign above the immaculate front door left no room for doubt that they’d found what they were looking for: ‘North Hackney Queen’s Nurses Association’. This was why they’d taken the bus to the east side of the city, and then up Kingsland Road, with its busy mix of shops, cafés, factories and cinemas. This is where they would live for the foreseeable future and from where they would go out into the local community as district nurses. Alice found she was tracing with her forefinger the shape of the Queen’s Nurse badge that she wore on a cord around her neck.

For a moment her nerve failed her. Would she be good enough? Would she live up to the trust of her tutors and the expectations of her patients? She’d trained for years, first as a general nurse in a hospital, then on the specialist course to become a district nurse, but there had always been someone else there to guide her. Now she would be out there, on the district as it was called, on her own, in her patients’ houses rather than on wards, relying on her own skill and judgement to cope with whatever was thrown at her. Would she be able to do it?

Edith, who often relied on her friend to take the lead, now stepped forward. ‘Come on then. Let’s see what this place is like on the inside. Hope we get rooms on the top storey.’ She glanced up at Alice. ‘We’ll be all right, just you see.’

‘Of course we will.’ Alice gave herself a mental shake. ‘They wouldn’t have passed us otherwise.’ And with that she picked up her heavy case for what she hoped would be the last time for a very long while, strode up the steps and rapped sharply on the glossy navy paint of the door.

The difference between the bright daylight and the gloom of the corridor made them blink, and Alice at first almost didn’t see the young woman who let them in. She swiftly led them down the dim hallway and up a set of stairs, turning and opening a door, with a shy murmur of ‘she’s been expecting you’, before vanishing again. Sunshine flooded in through a large window, falling on a sturdy but well-worn wooden desk covered in cardboard folders, with an equally solid-looking wooden bookcase behind it. Alice had just enough time to notice the familiar spines of textbooks she had studied when a student nurse before a bustling woman in uniform shot across from the far corner of the room and started speaking at top speed. Her hair was red as copper, her face was sprinkled with freckles and she was even shorter than Edith. Alice had the distinct impression that here was somebody who hardly ever sat still – keen energy radiated from her as she waved them inside the office.

‘Come in, come in. Make yourselves comfortable. Nurses Lake and Gillespie, I take it?’ She looked at them brightly.

‘Y-yes,’ Alice stuttered, momentarily taken aback by the woman’s strong Scottish accent. ‘I’m Alice Lake.’

‘Then you must be Edith Gillespie,’ the woman said, sounding delighted as she took them across to the slightly faded sofa on the far side of the room. ‘I’m Fiona Dewar, and I’ll be your superintendent. Sit, sit and take the weight off your feet, there’ll be time enough for standing very shortly. Take every opportunity for a nice sit-down in this business, that’s what I say, because who knows when you’ll get another chance? You’ll be rushing around soon enough, I’ll be bound.’ She took her seat behind the desk and pulled one of the folders towards her. ‘Gladys will bring us a cup of tea, that’s the young lady who let you in. She doesn’t say much to start with but you’ll get to know her all the same, I’m sure. So, now, your previous matron has said some very impressive things about you, Miss Lake.’ She turned a page in the file. ‘Most promising. You weren’t inclined to go back to your home town, then?’ She looked up and, although her grey eyes were kind, Alice realised they missed nothing.

Hastily she cleared her throat. ‘No, I did my specialist training in London and I grew to like it. Besides, it means I can work with Edith, we work well as a team.’ She smiled at the superintendent, hoping there would be no further questions in this delicate area. She had no intention of revealing her real reason for staying away from Liverpool. That was her own private business, and it would stay that way if she had anything to do with it.

Edith beamed and the superintendent turned her gaze towards her. ‘Ah yes, Miss Gillespie, it’s always good to have a friend to hand, especially when you’re in a responsible profession like nursing.’

Alice winced a little as yet again the older woman had homed in on a sensitive issue. Edith took her responsibilities very seriously – for as long as she was on duty. After that she took having fun very seriously as well. Alice suspected their former matron might well have made a note to that effect.

Edith sat up straight against the slightly sagging cushions of the sofa. ‘Yes, Miss Dewar. I know we won’t go round in pairs but we always found it useful to help each other out when we were studying, testing each other, that sort of thing.’

Fiona Dewar nodded sagely. ‘Indeed. That shows commendable dedication. And we don’t stand on ceremony here, girls. You may call me Fiona, unless it’s in front of patients or doctors. It may surprise you to learn that I’m not vastly older than you are.’

Alice made a valiant attempt not to let her astonishment show on her face. Their previous superiors would have never, ever have relaxed the tradition of formal titles. Besides, she had thought Fiona Dewar must be at least twice her own age – but then, looking more closely, she saw that she was wrong. Perhaps the superintendent was in her late thirties; but knowing she was at such a senior level had made Alice assume she must be even older. ‘No, of course not,’ she managed to say, as Edith was clearly unable to utter a word.

The superintendent beamed again. ‘I’m delighted you’ve both decided to join us. I know the borough’s main branch is a bit more central, but we like to think we keep a welcoming house here.’

Alice shifted in her seat. ‘We saw that you had vacancies for two nurses and so we thought we could stick together.’

Fiona nodded again. ‘That sounds very sensible. So, I’m sure you’re well prepared for your new positions and you’d never have passed the exam if you weren’t, but all the same …’ She sat back a little, clasping her hands. ‘It will be different to what you’ve been used to working in a hospital. Of course you are still under the medical direction of a doctor – you won’t be expected to dispense medicine for any patient except in emergencies, and I’m happy to say that our local GPs all appreciate the hard work we district nurses do. All the same, you will be required to show initiative and to take every opportunity to promote good health and hygiene to every family. Prevention is better than cure.’ Her eyes gleamed and Alice and Edith smiled in agreement.

‘Always remember, you are guests in the patients’ homes.’ Fiona’s face grew serious. ‘We never, ever judge our patients on account of their creed or degree of poverty. I regret to say that you will have plenty of dealings with the various officials who oversee public assistance, as many households around here can’t pay into provident schemes. Yet they are all equal when it comes to treatment.’

‘Of course,’ said Alice hurriedly, inwardly wondering how bad it might be. She knew all about poverty in theory – but she’d never gone without herself.

‘So, ladies, may I safely presume that you can ride bicycles?’

‘Yes, I been doing that since I was a kiddie,’ Edith assured the woman.

Alice inclined her head towards her friend. ‘I can manage a bike too.’ She’d never been allowed one as a child; her parents had thought it was too dangerous an activity for their beloved only daughter. ‘I learned when I was a student nurse. When we were working shifts it was the only reliable way to get around.’

‘Quite so,’ Fiona Dewar said approvingly. ‘We are fortunate to be well connected with public transport here, as you must have found out earlier, but when visiting your patients you will have to do so by bike. There’s no bus or tram that will get down some of our narrower streets. Do I take it that neither of you are familiar with this part of London?’

Both nurses shook their heads.

‘Oh, it’s a wonderful place to work.’ The superintendent spread her hands in front of her. ‘You’ll never be bored for a minute. We have unemployment around here, of course, and some of our local citizens do live cheek by jowl, you might say, and so we have to be extra vigilant against the spread of disease. There was an outbreak of typhoid down in Shoreditch at the beginning of the year, terrible business. Overcrowding makes it worse. But then, you knew all that before you qualified, didn’t you?’

Alice agreed somewhat nervously. It was one thing to learn such things as a part of a course, quite another to be brought face to face with the facts. Still, if she’d wanted an easy life she could have gone back to Liverpool. Although that would have been difficult in other ways.

‘It can’t be any more overcrowded than where I grew up,’ said Edith matter-of-factly. ‘We were seven of us children in a two-bedroom house and that was better off than some of our neighbours. You just got on and made the best of things.’

‘That’s the spirit,’ said Fiona.

Alice glanced at her friend. She knew it hadn’t been as simple as that. But that was Edith’s story to tell.

There was a nervous knock at the door and the young woman who’d let them in tentatively balanced a laden tea tray as she stepped across to the desk. She didn’t meet their eyes, but kept her gaze towards the floor and her mousy brown hair fell forward, obscuring her pale face.

‘Thank you, Gladys,’ said Fiona, as Gladys scooted out again. She poured three cups from the pot. ‘I wouldn’t like to give you the impression that you’ll be waited on hand and foot here. This is purely because it’s a special occasion, to welcome you to your new home.’ She glanced up as she passed the cups across the desk. ‘We see to ourselves most of the time when it comes to cups of tea or that sort of thing. There are three meals a day served downstairs on the lower ground floor, all provided by our esteemed Cook, and you will of course maintain your own rooms in spick-and-span order. We must value hygienic practices at all times.’

‘Of course,’ Alice agreed hurriedly. It was what they’d been used to, after all. She gratefully sipped her tea, realising that her last cup had been at an unearthly hour that morning, and felt like a long time ago.

‘Our district room is on the ground floor – you’ll have passed the door to it on your way in,’ Fiona went on. ‘I must warn you that, although we are by and large a friendly establishment here, any nurse who leaves that room less tidy than she found it will incur immediate wrath. There can be absolutely no exceptions. I trust I need say no more about that most vital rule.’

Alice hastily swallowed her tea and nodded vigorously. The district room was where all supplies and equipment were kept, with which each nurse replenished the contents of her own Gladstone bag that went everywhere with her. To fall foul of the superintendent’s rule would be to risk another nurse being unable to find something important, possibly in an emergency. That could never be allowed to happen.

‘Yes, Fiona. I mean no,’ added Edith.

‘Good,’ said the superintendent, setting down her cup of tea on its serviceable saucer. ‘All finished? Excellent. Now, follow me. I’m afraid you’ll have to hit the ground running as we are extremely busy right now. Which is why we’re so glad to recruit the pair of you together, of course. You’ll be needed just as soon as you’ve had a moment to catch your breath. Someone will bring up your big cases, but please take your bags. I’ll show you to your rooms. You’re on the top floor, so I hope you’ve got good legs. Well, if you haven’t already, you soon will have.’

Alice and Edith exchanged a glance as they obediently followed the diminutive superintendent. Their previous matron would sooner have died than make a comment about their legs. Clearly things were very different around here, and Alice had the distinct impression that, whatever else they were in for, it wasn’t going to be boring.

CHAPTER TWO

Alice had barely had time to unpack and settle herself in a Spartan but immaculately clean attic room when her first callout came. A young mother was worried about her baby, who seemed to be running an unusual temperature. One of the local doctors had referred her to the district nurses – could somebody come that afternoon?

The message reached Alice just as she’d found her hairbrush and managed to give her hair a quick tidy as she peered into the small mirror perched on top of the chest of drawers. When not pinned up under her uniform hat or cap, her dark blonde locks reached to her shoulders in natural waves, but it was rare for her to wear her hair down. She was settling it back into its usual neat bun when there was a knock on her door.

‘Come—’ she began, but before she could even finish her sentence, in burst a young woman in nurse’s uniform, big blue eyes gazing at Alice with frank curiosity.

‘Are you Miss Lake? I’m Mary Perkins and I’ve got the room at the end of this corridor,’ the new arrival announced. ‘Sorry, you’re needed already. Only this minute got here, haven’t you? I’ve been here for two months so I can show you the ropes. We’ll get to know each other properly later, but if your bag is all ready to go, you’d better come with me.’

‘I’m Alice,’ said Alice, grabbing her bag, which she’d prepared in advance, and reaching for her navy coat. ‘But I haven’t got a bike yet.’

‘Not to worry, it’ll be around the side, they always are,’ said Mary Perkins, who Alice judged to be about Edith’s age, a couple of years younger than herself. ‘This house is a doddle to find, and you’ll be going there often if I’m any judge, and I can tell you right now I’m pretty good at guessing these things.’ She set off at a great pace and it was all Alice could do to keep up as her new colleague dashed along the narrow attic corridor and down the main set of stairs.

‘No running! Nurse Perkins, is that you?’ came a grim voice from the storey below.

‘Bloody old busybody,’ Mary muttered under her breath, but she did at least slow to a fast walk. ‘Have you met Gwen yet? No? Well, you soon will. She’s Fiona’s deputy, but don’t pay her any mind. Look, this is the way to the side door, it’ll save you time. That’s the district room, and that’s the drying room for your cloak when you’ve been out in the rain, but you can see all that later.’ She ducked around a corner and led Alice out into a sunny yard.

Alice realised that – as it was on the corner of the road – the nurses’ home had a large area to the side. One wall had been turned into an informal bike shed, with a light timber roof balanced on the top ridge, and a makeshift rack propped so that a dozen or so cycles could be stored beneath it. Mary made her way along and paused at the end. ‘These are the spare bikes – one for you and one for the other new nurse.’

‘How can you tell? They all look alike,’ Alice wondered.

‘We all put something on our bike to show it’s ours. We’re not meant to but we do.’ Mary pointed to a bike at the far end. ‘See the one with the bit of blue ribbon around the bell? That’s mine. Silly really, but when I was walking out with this chap, he said I looked lovely in blue because it went with my eyes, so I got myself some ribbon to trim my hat, and that was what was left over. Turns out the ribbon lasted longer than he did.’ She shrugged, not overly concerned. ‘I say, have you got a chap?’

Alice took a step back. She wasn’t accustomed to such direct questions from someone she’d only just met. ‘No,’ she said shortly and then, realising it sounded rude to be so abrupt, ‘I haven’t had time, after studying so hard. Anyway, I didn’t spend all those years training just to give it up to get married.’

‘Quite right,’ said Mary. ‘Only I wish they weren’t quite so strict about the rules. In by ten o’clock, no men on the premises, there’s hardly any fun to be had. Still, if you aren’t bothered about that then that’s all right.’

Alice thought that Edith would find a way around the restrictions within the week, if her past history was anything to go by. But she didn’t offer that piece of information to Mary. Instead she asked, ‘Where am I going now?’

‘Jeeves Place,’ said Mary. ‘It’s hard to miss. You go back the way you’d have come this morning as far as the high road. Go straight over – that’s Jeeves Street. The road one further down, parallel to it, is Jeeves Place. Easy. Number nine. Patient’s name is Kathleen Berry, well, that’s the mother. Not sure what her baby’s called.’

‘I expect I’ll find out soon, then,’ said Alice, placing her leather bag in the basket of the bike and pushing it carefully towards the side gate. ‘Wish me luck. If I’m not back by teatime, send out a search party.’

‘Will do.’ Mary waved cheerfully and her lively rich brown curls bobbed around her face.

Kathleen Berry tried to shut out the sounds of her baby son’s screaming. She’d tried picking him up and carrying him around, changing his nappy, offering him cold water, feeding him herself, taking him outside, bringing him back in. Nothing helped and now he was working himself up into a proper state. He lay in his makeshift cot, waving his fists in the air, his face an angry red. She didn’t know what to do. She hoped the nurse would get here soon. She was so frightened.

Her mum had told her not to have anything to do with Ray Berry, that he was a feckless charmer who’d love her and leave her. Kathleen had defended him staunchly. He’d never treat her like that, her mother was just listening to the gossipy old women who had nothing better to do than spread cruel rumours that were without foundation. They were just jealous because they weren’t young any more and had probably never had the attention of a man as good-looking as her Ray. She knew he’d do right by her.

And Ray had – she had his ring on her finger to prove it. No matter how tough things got she was never tempted to pawn it – it was too precious to her, it stood for everything they’d promised to each other. He’d done his best to provide for her but it hadn’t been easy. People were too quick to believe the gossip and he found it hard to get regular work. One day he’d told her he was going down the docks to see if anything was to be found there, and that had been the last she’d seen of him. One of his mates had dropped round to say he’d signed up for a merchant ship and had set sail that very day. It was too good a chance for him to miss.

Kathleen knew he’d be back, but the trouble was he hadn’t sent home regular wages. She was never sure what she would get, if anything at all, but she hated to ask anyone for help. She hadn’t known for certain that she was pregnant before he left – she didn’t want to get it wrong and so she’d waited to tell him. He’d set sail without realising he was soon to become a father.

Now she was stuck with little Brian in this rundown house, which was all she could afford, although if truth be told she couldn’t really even do that. She didn’t even have the whole place to herself – she had the ground floor, with its badly lit front room, cramped kitchen and even more cramped back kitchen, with its doorway into the back yard where there was an outside privy, shared by several families. Upstairs lived the Coynes, who trampled around on the bare boards with no regard of her need to sleep. Then again, they heard Brian’s cries all day and night as clearly as she did.

‘Shush, shush,’ she said, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. ‘Mummy’s here. The kind nurse will come soon, she’ll make everything better, just you wait and see.’ She fervently hoped this was true. Wearily she leaned over the baby and took him up into her arms again, noting that he was still far too hot. ‘Mummy’s going to stand in the door with you, see if that cools you down.’ She shoved open the flaking front door and leant on the creaky frame, grateful for the light breeze to fan their faces, even if it blew rubbish down the narrow street. Bits of old newspaper tumbled by. She was so tired she could have slept standing up, if she didn’t have little Brian to look after.

Brian’s cries gradually turned to sad whimpers, but she knew it was because he was too tired to cry lustily any more rather than because he felt better. Anxiously she pressed her hand to his forehead. No, still hot. It wasn’t right. Why was he like this? Was it something she’d done, or hadn’t done?

Kathleen bit down on her lower lip. It wouldn’t help if she went to pieces. It wasn’t as if she had many people to turn to. Her mother would say it served her right for marrying that good-for-nothing. Besides, her mother had four other children to see to, and three more grandchildren to fuss over. Kathleen knew she was a fair way down the list of her mother’s priorities. Sometimes she wondered if she’d been switched at birth as she couldn’t remember a time when she and her mother had got along. They were just too different, even before she’d met Ray. She knew she was quieter, more serious than her mother, who had a loud voice and coarse laugh. Her other siblings had had no such problems, and Kathleen had ended up distant from all of them as a result. She had one good friend who lived on the next street but she couldn’t expect her to be round every time something went wrong – which seemed to happen more and more. ‘It’s just you and me, Brian,’ she breathed, feeling better for admitting the frightening truth. If only Ray were here.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there when there was a rattle of wheels behind her. Turning, she saw it was a tall figure in a navy cloak on a bike that had seen better days. There was no mistaking the woman’s hat though. It was the nurse, at last.

‘Mrs Berry? I’m Nurse Lake. Alice Lake.’ Alice dismounted from the bike and propped it against the house, pausing to take the Gladstone bag out of the basket. ‘Hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’

Kathleen could have cried with relief. ‘Come in, come in,’ she said, stepping back inside the house with its meagre furnishings. She perched on a wooden chair, Brian in her arms, and left the one decent armchair for Alice.

Alice took it, noticing that the cushions were faded and frayed, but had been carefully mended. The young mother before her wasn’t far off her own age, she guessed; maybe a couple of years younger. But her face was creased with lines of worry and she looked as if she hadn’t slept properly for a very long time. ‘Well, Mrs Berry, what seems to be the trouble?’

‘Oh, it’s Brian here.’ The words came tumbling out now. ‘He’s ever so hot, he’s been like this since yesterday, and I can’t calm him down. I don’t know what it is. You don’t think … you don’t think …’ She could barely form the words to name her deepest fear. ‘Could it be typhoid, Miss? They had it down Shoreditch way. Took them awful bad, it did, and people died and everything. I couldn’t bear for it to be typhoid, not my Brian, he’s only four months old …’ She hated to cry in front of anyone, let alone a stranger, and hastily cuffed away a tear that she could not hold in.