The Bad Penny (11 page)
‘No it won’t,’ Patty assured her. ‘I’m a nurse, Maggie, and it’s very important that my home and the people I live with are clean. I visit women who have just had babies, and of course the little babies themselves, and such people are at a low ebb and easily infected. Dirt breeds germs, you know, and if you were to handle food with really filthy hands, then the food could become infected. So I’m afraid it’s a daily wash and a weekly bath so long as you’re living with me. Is that clear?’
Maggie was inclined to be a bit sulky and muttered that she was not a nurse and was therefore unlikely to pass on any germs which might hang around her, but when she found that Patty heated water for bathing, and did not expect her to climb into a cold tub, she was somewhat reconciled. When the bath was ready and Patty ruthlessly plunged her into it, she gasped and whimpered, and when the strong carbolic soap was rubbed into her mop of fair hair and the suds ran down into her eyes she screamed and threshed as though she were being torn in two. But when the bath was over and she was wrapped in a towel and settled before the fire, with a bowl of steaming bread and milk in her lap, she grew cheerful once more, telling Patty that for such a bowl of food she would have endured being in the water twice as long.
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Patty said, mopping the spilt water off the floor and heaving the tin bath over to the sink, to throw away its contents. ‘Because, Maggie, my dear, you’ve brought some little visitors with you which only a great deal of washing will banish. Fleas, fortunately, drown very quickly, but head lice are a different matter. Presently, I shall have to do your hair with a steel comb and lotion. It isn’t very pleasant – it’s very strong-smelling indeed – but if we keep at it, it will do the trick.’
‘D’you mean to say you can stop me head itchin’?’ Maggie said incredulously. ‘I hates the feelin’ that things is creepin’ round on me scalp and I hates bed bugs an’ all; they bite like tigers, don’t they, miss? – I mean Nurse. When me mam were alive, she spent ages tryin’ to get rid of ’em but Dad is too busy an’ that Ethel don’t seem to mind ’em.’
Patty had noticed the larger bites amongst the fleabites on the child’s body, and guessed that they had been caused by bed bugs. She knew the unending battle which most of the women living in the courts waged against the disgusting creatures, but had always managed to keep clear of them herself. The accepted method of suddenly leaping out of bed in the middle of the night and nabbing the creatures on a bar of softened soap was not one she had tried personally, but her informants had assured her it was the only way to make a capture since the bugs are nocturnal and shun even a glimmer of light. ‘It is extremely difficult to get rid of bed bugs once they’re dug into a house,’ Patty admitted. ‘I’m told they live deep in the mattress and even burrow beneath wallpaper or a layer of whitewash, but we are very fortunate here. The building is relatively new and everyone has a thorough spring clean each March or April and whitewashes the walls regularly. I’m afraid, Maggie, that I’m going to burn the clothes you were wearing, so it’s a good job your father gave you the skirt and blouse, because you’ll need them tomorrow. For tonight, you can wear one of my nightgowns. It will be miles too big, but at least it’s clean. And since there are no bed bugs here, that’s one thing you won’t have to worry about. Now if you’ve finished your bread and milk, I’ll start on your hair.’
Maggie raised no demur and very soon Patty was pulling the fine toothcomb through the child’s fair locks and anointing her scalp with the strong-smelling lotion. Although the task was a distasteful one, Patty worked with a will. She knew how easy it was for one child to infect another with head lice and had no desire to see poor little Merrell’s fine fair hair crawling with insect life.
As she laboured, Patty thought that this was one task she had never envisaged. It was odd, because her work took her into some of the worst slums in the area and she constantly saw signs of fleas, lice and bed bugs on the bodies of the women she nursed, and on their tiny new babies too, after only a few days. But since it was not part of her job to attack such things, she merely gave advice and hoped that the mothers would follow it. Now, however, the problem was hers as well as theirs and she realised for the first time that had she lived in less salubrious surroundings, the battle would have been a constant one.
‘Phew. Wharra pong!’ Maggie said sleepily, as Patty finished her work and began to tidy away the lotion and the comb. ‘Me hair’s awful wet, miss – I mean Nurse – and the stuff stings me scalp somethin’ cruel.’ She smiled up at Patty with watering eyes. ‘Guess you needn’t worry I’ll miss Merrell tonight! I reckon I shan’t sleep a wink for the stinging.’
Patty took the kettle off the fire and poured hot water into a bowl, then added some cold. Then she got out the carbolic soap and approached her small companion once more. ‘I quite agree, you wouldn’t sleep a wink with that stuff on your hair; it would probably burn straight through the pillow,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Come to the sink and put your head over the bowl and we’ll soon get rid of that smelly lotion and any horrid little bodies which are still around, for I’m sure they’ll be well and truly dead by now. Then I’ll dry your hair on a clean towel, pop you into a nightdress, and I’m sure you’ll sleep like a top. Merrell’s very good and only wakes in the night if she has a pain or if she’s cutting a tooth. She has her first feed at half past six, but I shall deal with that, since I have to get up early to start my revisits. Unless I’m called out in the night, but if I am, I’ll stick a note on your bedroom door, telling you where I’ve gone and how to feed Merrell and so on. And you’d better call me Patty,’ she added, ‘since we’re going to be living together for some time, I hope.’
‘It don’t sound very respectful,’ Maggie said, bending her head over the basin of water. ‘Wharrabout Miss Patty? I keeps tryin’ to remember to call you Nurse … I suppose miss won’t do?’
‘No it won’t,’ Patty said decidedly. ‘Would you rather call me Auntie? I could put up with that, I suppose.’
‘Auntie Patty,’ she spluttered, her tone considerably muffled and difficult to hear against the slosh of water as Patty emptied the jug over her. ‘Lors, Auntie Patty, you bleedin’ near drowned me that time!’
‘Sorry; I was a bit enthusiastic,’ Patty said. She raised Maggie to a standing position once more and enveloped her head in a small towel, then began to rub hard. Presently, she slid the nightgown over Maggie’s head and smiled at her. ‘There! Now you’re as sweet and clean as Merrell herself and very soon you’ll be as fast asleep as well. Is there anything you want before you go off to bed, Maggie? You know there’s a lavatory at the end of the landing, don’t you? And there’s a chamber pot under your bed because you won’t want to go traipsing along the landing in the middle of the night.’
‘Reckon I’d best slip along to the lavvy afore I goes to bed, then,’ Maggie said, heading for the door. Patty stepped in front of her.
‘This is a respectable area, young lady,’ she said severely. ‘Folk don’t go marching around in their nightgowns, bold as brass. You’d best slip my old jacket round your shoulders, for decency’s sake.’
‘Right you are,’ Maggie said with unimpaired cheerfulness, though Patty could tell by the look she shot her that the younger girl thought she was as mad as a hatter. ‘I shan’t be long.’
When Patty awoke next morning, she wondered for a moment where she was, for usually Merrell’s cooing and bubbling roused her. Today, there was only quiet and the early sunrise coming in through the gap in the curtains. Sitting up in bed, Patty abruptly remembered how her life had changed. Merrell was in the small bedroom next door, with Maggie to look after her, so if Patty wished she could cuddle down again and have an extra half-hour in bed. She sighed luxuriously and leaned back on her pillow. But old habits die hard. She had an alarm clock which would wake her in good time if she were to set it, but she realised that she was ready to get up, so swung her feet out of bed and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She had a good wash in cold water at the sink, dressed in the clothes she had laid out ready the night before, then set about preparing for the day ahead. Her sterilised instruments and all the things she would need for her revisits she popped into her black bag. She got the loaf from the cupboard, together with a pot of jam and a slab of margarine, and made herself two thick sandwiches. She had a full day ahead and was unlikely to be able to return to Ashfield Place for a midday meal, so the sandwiches were stowed in her black bag as well. After that, she stirred up the fire, made herself a round of toast and, when the kettle boiled, brewed a pot of tea. Then, satisfied with her preparations, she poured a second mug of tea and carried it into the smaller of the two bedrooms, where all was peace and quiet. Merrell still slumbered in the old wicker bicycle basket, which she was rapidly outgrowing, and Maggie slept too on her makeshift bed. Patty stood the mug of tea down beside the girl, and went across the room and drew back the curtains. This room faced the back of the building and was always dim, even at midday.
The sound of the curtains being drawn back must have wakened Maggie for she sat up, yawned and then, as her eyes fell on the tea, gasped. ‘Oh, miss – I mean Auntie Patty – I must have been real wore out, ’cos I don’t remember a bleedin’ thing after I lay down. Is that – is that mug of tea for me? I do hope you didn’t have to come in to Merrell in the night, only I were that tired …’
‘It’s all right, all three of us were very tired indeed, so none of us woke,’ Patty said reassuringly. ‘I’ve stirred up the fire and made Merrell’s bottles up for the day. If you bring the baby through into the kitchen to feed her, I’ll show you where I keep things. Drink your tea before it goes cold.’
Maggie reached for the mug and began to sip, her eyes looking huge over the rim. ‘Thanks ever so,’ she said, between mouthfuls. ‘I’ll make the feeds up meself once I knows how. Is it just milk she has or can she take a bite or two? By the time our Gus was as big as your Merrell, he were eatin’ spuds, rice pud … most everything we ate, in fact.’
‘Yes, Merrell does have tiny amounts of soft food if it’s well mashed up,’ Patty said. ‘Finished the tea? Then come through into the kitchen – you can dress yourself later – and we’ll sort out your tasks for the day.’
By the time October arrived, Patty, Maggie and Merrell were quite a little family unit. Maggie proved every bit as competent and sensible as Patty had hoped, and when she returned to school Mrs Clarke, who was by now the proud mother of a bouncing baby boy, was glad enough to earn a couple of bob by taking care of Merrell from nine until four on schooldays. Patty, as her midwife, had delivered her child and the two women had grown fond of each other. Mrs Clarke had been easy-going, possibly even a little feckless, but with the birth of her baby all that changed. She and her young husband were as proud as peacocks of their offspring and determined that he should have the best life possible. Mrs Clarke, therefore, questioned Patty closely as to how she should bring up young Christopher and took all Patty’s advice to heart, including the methods of hygiene which Patty herself practised and Mrs Clarke, in the days before Christopher, would have thought unnecessarily fussy.
Because of this, Patty had no fears in leaving Merrell with her friend. Patty knew that Merrell’s nappies would be changed whenever necessary, that the dirty ones would be steeped in a bucket of cold water and that the wet ones would be run under the tap before Mrs Clarke put them in the bag Patty provided to carry them home in.
Mrs Clarke had offered several times to wash the nappies when she did Christopher’s, but this Patty would not allow. She liked to do as much as she possibly could for Merrell herself and quite enjoyed seeing a line of nappies blowing in the breeze, on her own section of landing.
Maggie visited her family in Stanton’s Court weekly. Patty had no objection to the visits and knew that Maggie was careful never to let it be known that she was looking after her own sister. In the nature of things, it was inevitable that a member of the Mullins family, or even a neighbour or friend, would eventually see Maggie pushing a pram with a baby inside it. In order to explain this away, Maggie had told her family that she baby-minded for anyone in the neighbourhood willing to pay her a few pence, and since this was common practice in the courts no one ever questioned her.
What was more, when Mrs Clarke was busy, there were now two babies tucked up snugly in the big old pram, and quite often Maggie obliged any neighbour who wanted a baby minding or a small toddler kept happy for an hour or so. She never took money from Mrs Clarke, but as soon as Patty realised that Maggie was quite happy to take on other children she told the girl that if she was offered money for baby-minding, then she could accept it. ‘I don’t see why you shouldn’t have a bit of pocket money to spend on sweets, or hair ribbons, or whatever,’ she said vaguely. ‘After all, you earn the money by being a great help to me, but your dad gets all of it, doesn’t he? I don’t suppose he ever gives you the odd penny or so?’
Maggie didn’t answer directly. Instead, she said: ‘There’s a lorra children in our house. Poor Biddy works harder than I do, I can tell you, especially now that Ethel woman’s took herself off. Our dad is desperate to get Fanny back, but she’s holdin’ out, says she’ll only come home if Laurie and Gus can come too.’
When Maggie went home to Stanton’s Court it became a regular habit for Patty to have a hot bath and the lice lotion standing by against her return. The girl never complained, but Patty knew that she was beginning to feel ashamed of the state of her father’s house. She even felt a little guilty because she was not at home and this was something which Patty knew she would have to tackle, for by now she valued Maggie highly. The girl was sweet-tempered, generous and genuinely fond of children. She was a quick learner, seldom having to be told twice how to do a task, and was becoming proficient at cooking, cleaning and most of the household tasks which Patty had once had to cope with unaided. Patty could not imagine how she would manage without Maggie but the truth was, she had never realised before quite what a menace household parasites could be. It was financially impossible for her to burn poor Maggie’s clothing every time she came back from Stanton’s Court, but she could, and did, soak the girl’s clothes in the bath water overnight and this generally seemed to suffice. She wished she could get the Mullins to tackle the problem at their end, but was beginning to accept the sheer impossibility of such a task.