Читать книгу Letters from Alice: Part 2 of 3: A tale of hardship and hope. A search for the truth. - Petrina Banfield - Страница 5

This is no case of a ‘chateau en Espagne’ – a castle in the air – there it stands in solid bricks and mortar. It is as real as the poor suffering creature who lies at your feet at the doorstep, as you pass home in the dark … I believe there are in this great town hundreds of well disposed people so struck to the heart by the spectacles which the streets of this great city present that they would gladly do anything to set those things right if only they knew how.

(Charles Dickens’ fundraising speech on behalf of the Royal Free Hospital, 6 May 1863)

In the spring of 1828 a small apothecary in Greville Street, Hatton Garden, opened its doors to the poor. ‘Persons not able to pay for medicines will be furnished with them free’ promised its founder, William Marsden, a young surgeon from Yorkshire. Marsden also declared that the only necessary qualifications for being seen by the three voluntary physicians working there were ‘poverty and disease’.

It was a revolutionary idea. Until the arrival of the apothecary, which was originally known as the London General Institution for the Gratuitous Cure of Malignant Diseases, there had been few appealing options for London’s ailing poor. A few hospitals admitted patients on an emergency basis, but only at the discretion of the doctor on duty.

William Marsden had been moved to take drastic action to improve the dire situation after encountering ‘in the street at a winter’s dawn a desperately ill girl whom,’ reported the Daily Chronicle in 1902, ‘having no influence with governors, he could not get into any existing hospital’.

It was shortly before Christmas in 1827, and despite her being accompanied by a respectable gentleman, the local hospitals refused to admit her, it is thought, because they suspected that she was a prostitute in the grip of venereal disease. Marsden, a newly qualified doctor, carried the girl to his personal lodgings and cared for her himself. When she died, two days later, he vowed to open a hospital that was free for all and discriminatory against none.

Plans were drawn up on a late winter’s day in February 1828, in a little coffee shop in Gray’s Inn Road. Within two months the apothecary was up and running, the poor of London streaming in through its doors. Just under a thousand patients were treated in the apothecary in its first year, with almost four times as many on the receiving end of its charity four years later.

William Marsden perhaps could not ever have imagined that almost two centuries after the small apothecary was established, a quarter of a million outpatients would pass annually through the Royal Free Hospital’s doors.

The outpatients department of the Royal Free was one of the busiest in London in 1922, and it was in full swing when Alice Hudson crossed the atrium the next morning, on Thursday, 5 January.

It was 9 a.m., just over forty-eight hours since the almoner had overseen Charlotte Redbourne’s committal into hospital. The notes on her desk revealed her eagerness to return to Banstead to check on the teenager, but there was little flexibility in her schedule to allow for a time-consuming journey out of town.

The Woods had already made themselves comfortable, a horsehair blanket draped over Ted’s knees. A half-finished knitted shawl was spread over Hetty’s lap, one of many she was making to donate to the abandoned babies on the wards upstairs. ‘I’m not sure there is much I can do for your daughter at the moment, I’m afraid,’ Alice said quietly as she eased herself into the narrow space on the bench beside Hetty.

The stale smell that pervaded the air in the department intensified. Alice stilled for a moment and frowned. There was a pause and then she said: ‘How Mr Simpkins manages his money is only something I can involve myself in if invited, but I suspect –’

‘Oh yes, we know most of his income ends up in the tills of the Red Lion, duck,’ Hetty said, lowering her knitting needles to her lap. ‘No, you don’t want to be involving yourself with him. He’d thrash you soon as look at you. Poor Billy’s been on the wrong side of his fist many a time, I’m sad to say. Isn’t that right, Ted?’

Her husband leaned around her and nodded ruefully, his jaw stiff. ‘Thanks for trying, Miss Alice,’ he said softly. ‘It’s much appreciated.’

Alice pressed her lips together and squeezed Hetty’s hand. ‘I am going to have a word with one of the doctors here, to see if I can arrange a house call to Billy. I will let you know if –’

She stopped abruptly as Hetty winced and clamped a hand to her chest. Alice peered at her. ‘Are you alright, Hetty?’

The woman closed her eyes briefly, her hands closing tight around one of the knitting needles on her lap. ‘Yes, duck, not too bad. I’m just worried about Billy. Is it his chest again?’

‘You must try not to worry,’ Alice said slowly, her eyes still fixed on the elderly woman. ‘I’ll see what I can do to help. In the meantime, I think we should get the doctor to have a little look at you, Hetty.’

‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong with me, duck.’ Hetty made a shooing motion with her hand. The fetid smell in the air turned rancid.

The almoner leaned forward again and looked at Ted, her eyebrows raised. Even almoners without previous nursing experience had a knack for spotting serious problems, their everyday exposure to all sorts of suffering helping them to develop a practised eye. Ted shifted in his seat, looking between the almoner and his wife, and then he seemed to reach a decision. He turned to his wife. ‘She’s right, love, I think you should do what she says. It’s gone on long enough.’ Hetty shot him an angry look. He reached for her hand and patted it, though his eyes were on Alice. ‘She’s been in pain for a while now, Miss, but all she can think about is getting Tilda sorted.’

The woman gave her husband another irritated look. ‘I don’t want any fuss made,’ she told the almoner. ‘I’d rather you spent your time trying to help Tilda get straight.’

Alice reached for her other hand. ‘We can do both, Mrs Woods. Don’t you worry, I will see to it that we do both.’

The nurse in charge of the chest ward and associated clinic, Sister Nell Smith, was a formidable member of the Royal Free Hospital’s staff. A skinny-framed woman with delicate, bird-like features, she was on her feet as soon as the double doors to the department swung open, her sharp eyes trained on Alice as the almoner approached the main reception.

‘Ah, please tell me you’re here to sort this mess out, Miss Hudson. It’s been like Casey’s Court up here.’

Alice frowned. ‘I don’t know anything about any mess. I would like to speak with Dr Harland, please.’

Nell scoffed. ‘Yes, you and me both. I’m afraid the good doctor’s done one of his disappearing acts again. Anyway, someone’s got to sort this charade out.’ She folded her arms across her flat chest. ‘I’m short on beds, long on admissions and running out of patience.’

‘I’m afraid I’m not following, Nell. I’m here to book a patient in for an urgent appointment.’

The nurse dipped her head towards the male ward on the left-hand side of reception. ‘Not before you’ve sorted out old lover boy in there,’ she said. ‘I’ve had just about enough of it. Two of them we’ve had up here since yesterday, all in varying stages of confinement. I’ve never known anything like it. And I’m still waiting on those two convalescence places you promised me last week.’

Alice took her hat off and rested it on the high desk. She scratched her head. ‘Are we talking about Jimmy Rose, by any chance?’

The nurse nodded. ‘One and the same. If he can’t keep his women under control he’ll have to go elsewhere. I’ll not have my department made into a harem for the likes of him.’

Alice took a long breath in. ‘I’ll have a word.’

‘Cup of tea when you’re done?’ Nell called out as Alice walked away.

‘I would love to,’ Alice said over her shoulder, ‘but I have to make some house calls today, and I have several convalescences to organise, remember?’

The newly washed tiled floor gleamed under the bright lights overhead as Alice made her way past the unmanned nurses’ station at the head of the male ward. There were twenty beds on the ward: ten at evenly spaced intervals along one side, another ten mirroring those on the opposite wall. Beside each bed was a side table with a jug and basin on top, and a cup for water.

Locating Jimmy wasn’t a difficult task. Several beds along the ward were empty, the nightgown-clad occupants gathered around a bed at the far end of the ward, where faint plumes of smoke were rising into the air. ‘Ahh, hello, my darling,’ Jimmy said jovially on sight of the almoner, his teeth clamped around the end of a cigarette. It jiggled as he spoke, particles of ash escaping and dropping onto the starched sheets. ‘What a treat for the eyes, so you are.’

The other patients, each holding a set of cards in one hand and a cigarette in the other, exchanged glances and grinned. ‘I would like to have a word with you, Jimmy,’ the almoner said authoritatively.

‘Nothing would give me more pleasure, my darling.’

‘In private, please,’ Alice said, with a fierce glance around the assembled group.

‘Later then, gentlemen.’ Jimmy dismissed his guests with a wave of his nicotine stained fingers and then gathered up the coins that were piled up in the middle of his bed.

Once the other patients had returned to their beds, Alice sat on the chair closest to Jimmy’s. ‘It has been reported that you have had a number of unexpected visitors, Jimmy,’ she began. ‘Intimate associates of yours, so it would seem?’

‘Ah, that. Yeah, I have no idea why they’re targeting me, Miss Hudson, so I don’t. I suppose it’s because I’m such a nice fella.’ He ran his fingers through his dark curls. ‘They get themselves into trouble and think that I’m too soft-hearted to turn them away in their hour of need.’

Alice shook her head and pursed her lips. The almoners were accustomed to unravelling emotional tangles. After only a short time in the job, there was very little that shocked them. ‘You need to sort it out, Jimmy. We cannot have the ward turned into a poker den, and most certainly not a harem. Sister will not allow it.’

‘Oh I will, darling, don’t worry your pretty little head about that.’

Alice rolled her eyes and then informed him that she would be turning her attention to his case in the next few days. ‘Before I go, I shall note down the name of your employer.’

The twinkle in Jimmy’s blue eyes faded. After a pause he said: ‘What do you want that for?’

‘I need to make sure you have somewhere dry to sleep, Jimmy, before you are discharged. You have a diagnosis of acute bronchitis, I believe. We cannot have you returning to the same dreadful conditions from which you came, or you will end up back here in no time.’ Alice worked hard to educate her patients on the prevention of disease as well as its cure. She discouraged spitting in public to try and contain the tuberculosis epidemic, threw open windows when visiting festering, bug-ridden homes and badgered landlords into improving the state of their properties’ repair.

She also made attempts to educate employers about the conditions endured by homeless employees; the railwaymen living in empty coaches with their fellow workers and going to bed in damp clothes because there was no way of drying them, and builders and labourers who slept in half-built structures that offered little protection on the cold winter nights. The almoners sometimes arranged the construction of on-site huts similar to the Morrison shelters that would offer sanctuary to Londoners during the Second World War, to provide protection from the elements and help to improve the health of homeless workers.

Jimmy coughed and snuffed out his cigarette on an ashtray on his bedside cabinet. ‘Ah, that’s good of you, Miss, so it is, but there’s no need to go to all that trouble for me, m’darling. I don’t want to go causing any aggravation for the boss. I need my job, so I do. I can’t risk losing it.’

‘It is no trouble at all, Jimmy. It is what I am paid for.’

Jimmy raised copious objections, each summarily dismissed by the almoner. ‘But a man has to sort out his own troubles, or he’s not fit to call himself one.’

‘Jimmy,’ Alice said sternly, ‘do not make this difficult.’

Jimmy’s shoulders sagged. ‘Ah, I can’t remember the boss’s name and that’s the God’s honest truth, darling, I swear.’

Alice pre-empted any further argument by snapping her notepad to a close and springing to her feet. ‘Very well. I shall make my own enquiries.’

‘You’re a persistent woman, so you are,’ Jimmy said as she prepared to leave. ‘But no less beautiful for it.’

Alice threw a mock chiding look his way. As she emerged from the ward, Dr Harland appeared at the opposite end of the corridor, his curly hair unkempt. Their eyes locked. Harland slowed, shoulders stiffening, then turned towards a side room. ‘Doctor?’ Alice called out. ‘May I have a word with you?’

Harland stopped. He dropped his head back and closed his eyes briefly, turning slowly as Alice approached. ‘What now?’

Alice blinked and pulled her chin in. ‘There is someone I am concerned about. But first, I need to ask you … when did you first meet Charlotte Redbourne?’

The doctor scowled. ‘You know very well when I first met her; when you dragged me along on one of your mercy missions, that’s when.’

‘So you had no previous knowledge of her before that day?’

Dr Harland’s eyes hardened. ‘No. Although what authority you think you have to question me …’

‘Charlotte was brought into hospital suffering with breathing difficulties just over a year ago, but there is no record of the treatment she was given.’ Alice paused, keeping her gaze fixed on him. ‘I presume that with those symptoms, she would have been referred to the chest clinic.’ The doctor gave a small shrug. After another pause Alice asked: ‘So you are certain that you did not treat her?’

‘If I had,’ the doctor said, his jaw stiff, ‘the records would reflect it. I’m not the only doctor who works in this department, as well you know.’

Alice gave a small nod. After a moment she said: ‘I’m concerned about an elderly woman. I would like you to see her urgently, if you can manage it. And I also think a house call might be in order for her grandson. A young boy with –’

Harland groaned. ‘Not another one of your –’ he stopped and bit his lip, most likely in an effort to prevent himself from verbalising his frustration. ‘I’ve spent most of the morning dealing with your patients, Miss Hudson.’

Alice glared at the doctor. ‘My patients?’

‘Yes! The troublesome ones that you insist on sending up here!’

Alice’s nostrils flared. ‘What do you expect me to do with them, then?’

‘I thought your job was to ensure the smooth running of the hospital,’ the doctor snapped. ‘You seem to create a commotion wherever you go.’

The flush rising from Alice’s neck and up to her cheeks evidenced her fury. ‘First and foremost my duty is to ensure that patients have the best possible chance of making a full recovery, doctor. It is not, as you seem to believe, to make your life more convenient. And if you think –’

Dr Harland held up a flattened hand in front of her. ‘Please stop speaking,’ he said. ‘If you have an urgent case, bring them up in one hour.’ He turned on his heel and dived into his office, slamming the door loudly behind him. The almoner stared at the door with a look of disbelief. After a moment she returned to Nell at the main reception and shook her head silently. The nurse returned her exasperated look. ‘Our lord and master’s finally graced us with his presence then, I see.’

Alice nodded then looked at her thoughtfully. ‘You mentioned that the doctor often goes AWOL,’ she said slowly, leaning close to the counter. ‘Do you have any idea where he goes?’

‘You might well ask,’ the nurse said, and then she gave the almoner a meaningful look. ‘Perhaps Mr Jimmy Rose isn’t the only one with secret lady friends around here. Although why the doctor would feel the need to leave the hospital to find one I have no inkling. Lord knows there are enough simpering, silly nurses up here throwing themselves at him.’

Alice pursed her lips, then nodded to the nurse and reached for her hat.

‘Come back for a cuppa when you’ve got more time,’ Nell said, as Alice walked away. ‘And make sure you bring news of that convalescence home along with you. Something’s got to give sooner or later.’ She leaned over her desk as Alice pushed on the doors leading to the stairs. ‘I’m not a miracle worker, you know.’