Читать книгу Rainy Days for the Harpers Girls - Rosie Clarke - Страница 7

Marion was woken before it was light by Kathy shaking her; she grumbled as she struggled to open her eyes and ask what was wrong.

‘Milly’s awful bad,’ Kathy told her as she sat up and looked at her. ‘She has been sick three times and I can’t wake Ma…’

Marion was out of bed in a trice and hurried into the room next door where Kathy and six-year-old Milly slept. The two boys were still sleeping in their room and she was glad because Robbie would have to leave for work soon after six-thirty and Dickon had exams at school that day. Dickon was the bright one of the family and Marion hoped he would stay on at school and be something more than a manual worker one day. She would do what little she could to make sure it happened.

Milly was grizzling and feeling very sorry for herself. Marion frowned as she questioned whether her sister had pain in her tummy or her head, but she simply shook her head and knuckled her eyes.

‘Feel bad,’ she complained and was promptly sick again on the floor.

Behind Marion, Kathy gave a wail of despair. ‘I’ve cleared up after her twice,’ she said. ‘I’ve got cookery class today, Marion, and they’re going to show us how to make sweet pickle. I really want to learn how to do it…’

‘Mum should look after her, so you can go…’ Marion said without turning round. She was feeling Milly’s forehead, which felt warm and moist. ‘Can you get me some cool water and a cloth, love? I think she has a fever…’

Moaning about the unfairness of life, Kathy went off and soon returned with a small bowl of cool water and a cloth. Marion bent over her sister, smoothing her face and hands with the cool water. Milly sighed and looked at her miserably, but she’d stopped whimpering.

‘Try and sleep now, love,’ Marion said. ‘You’ll feel better in a bit – and I’d better see how Ma is…’

Going through to her mother’s room, she found that she had also been sick in the night. Mrs Kaye was sweating and feverish, lying motionless so that Marion’s heart stood still and for a moment she thought she might be dead. However, when she touched her, Ma moaned slightly and moved her hand away, as if in denial.

‘Leave me in peace…’ she muttered. ‘For God’s sake leave me be…’

‘It’s all right, Ma, it’s only Marion,’ she said. ‘You’re not well – you and Milly both have it.’ Only Ma was even worse than her little sister. Marion couldn’t wake her properly or get her to answer even though she tried a little shake but that only brought pitiful cries that made her hesitate. Ma obviously thought she was being attacked.

Feeling angry with her absent father, Marion hurried to fetch fresh water and a cloth. She bathed her mother’s face and hands, smoothing the cooling cloth up her thin arms and round her neck. She was perspiring and hot, the sweat soaked into her dark hair.

Tears stung Marion’s eyes as she looked down at the woman lying there with a mixture of pity, love and exasperation. Why didn’t Ma try to help herself more? She wasn’t the only woman in these streets that had a bullying husband, and Pa wasn’t too bad if you didn’t get on his wrong side. Robbie knew how to handle him, standing up to him with determination but a hint of humour. Dan would have come to blows, because his temper was as hot as Pa’s, but Robbie had a way with him. He was a bit like Reggie from next door…

Marion felt a hot flush as she recalled Reggie’s wink. He’d called her Miss Marion and something in his eyes had told her he liked to tease. Robbie could be that way too – and he was her favourite brother…

Shaking her head, Marion forced her mind back to the crisis in hand. What did she do about her mother and little sister? They were both quite ill, but did they need a doctor? If it was just a little tummy upset, Ma would be annoyed if they spent money they needed for other things on a visit from the doctor – and yet they could be really ill…

At the back of her mind, the thought that she was letting Mrs Burrows down and might lose her job at Harpers kept pricking at her – but what could she do? Kathy wasn’t truly old enough to have the burden of her family’s sickness thrust on her and so Marion had no choice but to stay. It was no use thinking about her job at Harpers. Her duty was here!

Ma was settling down a little now, just as Milly had earlier. Marion decided to go down and make up the range and put the kettle on. She would have a cup of tea and then see how they were in an hour or so.

Kathy crept down the stairs after her. ‘I’m sorry I had to wake you,’ she said. ‘I know you need your sleep…’

‘You did the right thing,’ she said and smiled at the younger girl. Kathy already had too much responsibility for a girl of her age. ‘Don’t worry, love, you’ll go to school in the morning – I want you to get on and do something better, be a secretary or something when you leave…’

‘I want to get married and cook lovely things for my family,’ Kathy said. ‘I’m going to marry a man with money – someone who will put his wages on the table every weekend and not spend it all down the pub…’

‘Good for you,’ Marion said. She didn’t think she would ever marry. Men were so unpredictable. Of the ones she knew in her own street, only three of them spent less time in the pub than they did at home. Mr Jackson was a good provider and gave his wife her share regular as clockwork, even though he liked a drink once a week. All his sons gave their mother money for their keep, which was why Mrs Jackson had a new winter coat most years and no one in that house ever went short of anything. Most of the other women complained of having to raid their husbands’ pockets for pennies when they were drunk just to put food on the table – and Marion would never live like that!

At six o’clock, Robbie came down to the kitchen dressed for work. He looked at his sisters, who were eating toast at the table. ‘Milly is cryin’ again,’ he said. ‘I looked in on her and I think she might ’ave been sick…’

‘Again!’ Kathy stood up with a sigh. ‘I’ll go to her, Marion…’

Marion looked at her brother. ‘I’m sorry if I woke you, Robbie…’

‘Nah, it was time for me to get up anyway,’ he said. ‘I could do wiv a bit of that toast and a cuppa if there’s any goin…’

‘Of course, there is,’ Marion said. ‘I’ll make a fresh pot – and you can have marmalade or drippin’ on your toast.’

‘I’ll have dripping – but cheese in my sandwiches for docky, if there’s any left?’

‘I’ve already made them, cheese and sweet piccalilli,’ Marion said. ‘It’s the last of what Ma made…’

‘Thanks, Marion.’ Robbie grinned at her. ‘You know I’m partial to Ma’s piccalilli. Pity she hasn’t made any more…’

‘Kathy wants to learn and she has a lesson today – so perhaps she’ll make a batch for us this weekend…’

‘You could do it if you ever had time,’ Robbie said. His expression became serious. ‘It isn’t fair, Ma expecting you to do everythin’…’

‘I don’t mind,’ Marion said. ‘Really, I don’t – but I want to go out with a friend next week…’ If she still had a job to go to. If she was sacked, Miss Gibbs would think she’d let them down and wouldn’t want to know her.

‘Let me know when and I’ll stay around so you can go…’

‘If Ma lets me…’ Marion began when Kathy burst into the kitchen, white-faced.

‘It’s Ma… she’s on the floor and I can’t get her to respond to me. She’s been sick and she’s messed herself…’

‘I’d better get the doctor,’ Marion said. ‘I thought I’d wait until a bit later, but if Ma’s that bad I’d better ring him now.’

‘I’ll do that,’ Robbie said and swallowed his last bite of toast. ‘Do you need me to help yer get Ma on the bed first?’

‘I think you’d better…’ Marion said. She went quickly upstairs to the bedroom and saw the sight that had met Kathy’s eyes. Ma was whimpering, her eyes closed. The room stank of Ma’s vomit and Marion motioned to her sister to open the window a little as she and Robbie lifted their mother on to her bed. Robbie was very strong and took most of the weight. He was frowning as he looked down at her.

‘She’s very sick, Marion. Do you want me to stick around?’

‘No, you need your wages,’ Marion said and shook her head. He earned more than she did at Harpers. ‘I can manage here and we can’t afford to lose two lots of money. I may not be able to get in today and I’m sure to be fined…’ She didn’t say that she might lose her job but knew it was a possibility because she’d been warned twice about being late.

Kathy fetched hot water as Robbie went off to ring the doctor before going into his work. Marion stripped off her mother’s soiled nightgown and washed her all over before putting on a new one. Fortunately, she’d managed to get out of bed before the vomit and mess came out of her and so the sheets didn’t need to be changed.

Gathering up the soiled things, the two girls looked in on Milly. She’d been sick too and had soiled her bed. Between them, they washed and changed her and the bedclothes. Marion took them down to the scullery and put them in cold water in the copper to soak.

‘Wash your hands well,’ she said to Kathy. ‘We’ve got to try and keep ourselves healthy, love…’

Kathy looked at her, then, reluctantly, ‘I could look after them…’

‘No, you get ready for school,’ Marion told her. ‘I’ll see what the doctor says when he gets here, but I know I might not get in to work at all…’

The doctor didn’t arrive until nine-thirty. He followed Marion upstairs to the patients. Milly was looking a little better by then, sitting up, pale and wan, dried tears on her cheeks, but she hadn’t been sick again.

‘I think this one is on the mend,’ Doctor Phillips said as he examined her tummy. ‘Bad as it was, I think it was just a nasty tummy and sickness. I’ll give you a bottle of medicine for her, which you can fetch from my surgery – and now I’ll take a look at your mother…’

Marion followed him into her mother’s room. Ma was lying with her eyes shut, her skin cold and clammy to the touch as if she were just too weary to open her eyes. The fever had passed, but she hadn’t come out of it as Milly had.

Doctor Phillips took her pulse and then stuck his stethoscope to her chest and back. He shook his head and frowned. ‘How long has she been like this?’

‘She was sick and had the runs earlier,’ Marion said. ‘It was watery and it looked like there was some blood in it…’

‘I suppose you just cleared everything up.’ He nodded, because it wasn’t a question, it was what she would do. ‘I think Mrs Kaye might be a little more serious than your sister, Miss Kaye; she’s lost a lot of weight. I’m going to recommend that you watch over her and keep her cool – but if there is more dysentery, then keep some of it for me to see please…’

‘Yes, sir…’ Marion felt cold all over. ‘I’m due at work… in fact I’m late…’

‘Your younger sister or brother should have stayed home… or perhaps you did the right thing.’ He frowned at her. ‘Your mother may take a turn for the worse, Miss Kaye. I shall call again later today, but if you’re worried, ring me – ask a neighbour to do it or to come in while you do. Your mother must not be left alone or she might die…’

‘She won’t die – she can’t…’ Marion stared at him in horror.

‘If she is no better when I return, I shall arrange for her to be taken into the infirmary,’ he replied and wrote something on his pad. ‘Now, I’ll give this to one of your neighbours. Is anyone your particular friend?’

‘Mrs Jackson might go to the chemist if she has time…’

‘Well, you can’t, because I need you to watch these patients,’ he told her. ‘You will light a fire in your mother’s room, make sure she doesn’t get too cold, and as soon as she is able, she needs some hot tea or soup inside her… just a thin soup if you have it or milk and a drop of sugar or honey and lemons, of course; they always help if the throat is sore…’ He looked at her sternly. ‘Your mother must not be left alone while she is so ill – please understand that, Miss Kaye.’

‘Yes, I understand,’ Marion said. ‘I don’t have any lemons, but we do have sugar and milk.’ Honey was a treat and wouldn’t last more than a day in this house and she only made soup when she had time. ‘I could make some soup with carrots and onions or potatoes…’

‘Yes, when Mrs Kaye is able to take food, a nice thin vegetable broth will be the very thing… no meat or anything heavy…’

Marion nodded; her heart squeezing as she looked at her mother’s pale face. Ma hadn’t moved, even the flicker of a finger or an eyelid.

‘You are quite clear about my instructions?’ Doctor Phillips asked as they went downstairs. ‘Now, I need to wash my hands please…’ His gaze moved around the room. ‘If you have carbolic, you should scrub as much as you can manage of this room, the bathroom and the kitchen. Mrs Kaye could not fight an infection in her weakened state…’

He was making her feel the house was dirty, when she cleaned and scrubbed as often as she had time. The unfairness of it stung. How was she expected to do everything? Houses like this were impossible to keep clean, whatever you did!

Marion hurriedly supplied soap, warm water from the kettle and a clean towel. The doctor washed his hands, smiled at her and then walked to the door, turning to look at her.

‘Now, a fire in Mrs Kaye’s room, warmed milk for your sister, just a little to settle her tummy – and, above all, watch your mother and get help if she takes a turn for the worse. I shall return later…’

Marion nodded and hurried to collect what she needed, taking the coal bucket, wood and paper up to her mother’s room. It didn’t seem that cold to her, but the doctor knew what he was talking about, so she lit the fire and put the guard up. She went down to the kitchen then and boiled a kettle and heated a little milk in the pan, adding some sugar to it.

Milly was still looking sorry for herself, but clearly better. She was able to take her milk and drank it slowly and carefully, then smiled sleepily at her sister, snuggled down in bed and promptly fell asleep. Marion stroked her head, smiling at her innocence, and then went next door to her mother.

She touched her mother’s hands and found they were warmer, a little moist now. Was that what the doctor had wanted, to warm her up, make her sweat out the infection, whatever it was? However, she still wasn’t moving and she didn’t answer when Marion spoke to her.

It was eleven o’clock when the back door opened and Mrs Jackson called out to her. Marion left her mother and ran down to the kitchen. Mrs Jackson had brought the medicine bottles and also a loaf of fresh bread, some oranges, a home-baked seed cake and a dish containing a casserole of something that smelled delicious.

‘I thought you might not have time to shop, so I cooked a little more for you,’ she said kindly. ‘Now, is there anythin’ more I can do for you, Marion?’

‘You’re very kind, thank you. Could you keep an eye on Ma while I nip down to the shop and ask Mr Rosen to let me use his phone to ring Harpers and tell them I shan’t be in, please?’

‘Yes, of course, love,’ her neighbour said. ‘I’ll go upstairs and look in on them both while you nip out…’

Marion snatched up her purse and raced down to the corner shop. Mr Rosen was serving a customer, but as soon as he heard about her mother, he told her to go through to his parlour and use the phone. She rang the office at Harpers and explained that her mother and sister were ill and that she hoped to be in the next day with fingers crossed. The girl who took the message was friendly enough, but Marion worried what her supervisor would think – and yet she had no choice. She couldn’t leave her mother.

She then returned to the shop to pay Mr Rosen for her call and purchase a jar of honey and six eggs, but he didn’t have any lemons in his shop.

It took her about fifteen minutes to get there, make the call and return home and when she burst into the kitchen, she discovered Mrs Jackson making a pot of tea.

‘Your ma has just woken up and asked for a cup of tea,’ she said. ‘She seems very poorly, Marion. I hadn’t noticed how thin she was gettin’ – arms almost like sticks.’ Her eyes held sympathy as she looked at Marion. ‘I’m mostly next door, Marion, and if you ever need anything, just ask. My boys are good lads and I never go short of anythin’ – there’s always a bit goin’ spare…’

Marion flushed, because she knew Mrs Jackson was being kind, but Ma hated charity and she wouldn’t even have asked for help if she’d been consulted.

‘Thank you for what you did,’ Marion said. ‘We can manage most times. Robbie always brings his wages home; I don’t earn much yet, but it helps – and Dan gives us a bit when he comes home… so does Pa…’ A few bob if there was any left after he’d been to the pub.

Mrs Jackson shook her head, her expression betraying what she thought of Marion’s father. ‘Well, I shan’t press you – but my Reggie likes you, young Marion, and he would want me to offer… so we’re always there…’

Marion felt hot all over. She thanked her neighbour but was glad when she left. She carried a tray with two cups of tea up to her mother’s room and found Ma lying back against her pillows with her eyes closed.

‘You shouldn’t have troubled Mrs Jackson…’ Ma said weakly. ‘It was kind of her to come but…’

‘It was the doctor insisted…’ Marion said and Ma’s eyes opened.

‘Marion, you didn’t call him out!’

‘You were ill and so was Milly. I had to… I thought one of you might die…’

‘Oh, if Milly was bad…’ Ma’s eyes closed and she leaned back weakly against the pillows. ‘For her sake… it doesn’t matter about me…’

‘How would I go to work if you were gone?’ Marion asked and brought her a cup of hot sweet tea. It wasn’t what the doctor had recommended, but it was what Ma wanted.

‘You could let Kathy stay home,’ her mother said. ‘Milly will be at school in another year – and then Kathy can watch her… I shan’t be missed then.’

‘Ma, don’t!’ Marion said, feeling hollow inside. ‘We all love you – think of us…’

‘I’ve hung on until you’re old enough to cope,’ Ma said and sipped her tea. ‘He’s broken me, Marion. I’ve got nothing to go on for…’

Marion turned away angrily. Her mother was ill; she didn’t know what she was sayin’. Once she felt better, she would regret it.

‘You’ll be all right,’ she said, struggling to hide her feelings. ‘You’ve got to be, Ma. Milly still needs you.’

‘I suppose she does…’ Ma sighed, pushing away the hardly touched tea. ‘For a bit longer – but I count too, Marion, and I’ve had enough…’

Marion’s tears trickled down her cheeks as she left the room and went to see if her little sister was all right. Milly was sleeping but her temperature was normal. She’d taken her mother’s illness lightly – but Marion knew the doctor was right, something more, something fundamental, was wrong with her mother. She didn’t know if it was a physical illness, but, whatever, it was dragging her down, sucking her will to live.

When Doctor Phillips returned, she would tell him what was worrying her. Perhaps if he sent her mother to the infirmary, they could make her better… but did her mother really want to be well again? Did she use her illness as an excuse to keep her husband from her bed?