Dangerous Lady (2 page)

The doctor nodded. ‘Of course.’

The boy still did not move.

‘She’s never had old Mother Jenkins before.’

The doctor stared up at the boy impatiently. ‘Look, Michael, I can’t stand around here all day talking to you. Your ma’s bad, but if we can get this baby born she’ll be all right. The sooner you get Mrs Jenkins the better. Time’s short.’

Michael turned slowly away from the doctor and placing one hand on the banister and the other on the wall he slid down, jumping over the younger boys’ heads. As he landed heavily on the linoleum, the doctor called to him: ‘Tell her I’ll be paying the ten shillings or she won’t come.’

Michael waved to let the doctor know he had heard, then, opening the front door, he rushed out.

The doctor looked down on to the younger children’s heads and his teeth clamped down even harder on his cigar. Michael’s foray down the stairs had caused the cockroaches to fall from the walls. The youngest child, Benny, not only had them crawling in his clothes, but one adventurous roach was slowly making its way across his face. Martin watched the child flick it gently away and made a mental note to see the landlord about getting the house stoved. It would never get rid of the damned things permanently but at least it would give the Ryans a breathing space.

‘Now then, I want a couple of you to go and find your father.’ Geoffrey, Anthony and Leslie all stood up. The doctor pointed at them in turn. ‘You, Geoffrey, try the Latimer Arms. You, Anthony, go up the Roundhouse. And you …’ “,.,”,

Leslie nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘… go to the Kensington Park Hotel. If you can’t find him in any of those places then try the Bramley Arms. If by any chance you do find your da, tell him that he is needed at home. Can you all remember that?’

The three heads nodded and they went on their way. Martin went back into the bedroom with Sarah.

‘Sure they’re good boys you’ve got there.’ Her voice sounded sceptical. ‘I don’t know about that,! Doctor. They’re a bit wild at times. It’s the old man. He takes the belt to them for nicking one minute, and then the next he’s sending them out to do it. The poor little sods can’t win.’

She doubled up as another pain hit her.

‘Relax now, Sarah.’ He pushed a few stray hairs from her face. It was getting dark so he pulled the curtains and put on the overhead light. He lit himself another cigar from the butt of the previous one. Then, with it firmly clamped between his teeth, he examined her again. When he had finished he had a worried look on his face. He visibly relaxed as he heard a voice in the hallway. A few seconds later Matilda Jenkins had pushed open the bedroom door. She stood at the end of Sarah’s bed, all eighteen stone of her.

‘All right, Doctor?’ This was a form of address, not a question.

‘All right, Sarah? The bloody stairs knacker me these days. But them boys!’ She flapped her hand at Sarah. ‘Talk about scatter them. One look at me coming up ‘em and they run like mad!’ Her deep booming laugh reverberated around the bedroom. The doctor was paying her the ten shillings, she could afford to be friendly.

‘It’s a big woman you are, Matilda, to be sure. Now get yourself back down the stairs and heat me up lots of water. I want to sterilise me things. This little fellow’s breech.’

Matilda nodded her head vigorously.

‘Righto, Doc. I’ll send around the neighbours, get them to put their kettles on. We might even get a cuppa out of them!’

As she stamped from the room, Sarah glared at the doctor.

‘What’s she doing here? I ain’t got ten shillings, and if I did have I’d give it to the kids. They ain’t eaten since yesterday, and until that man of mine comes home, they won’t eat at all! Knowing him, he’s shacked up with some old sort somewhere and won’t be home till the morning!’

She was near to tears.

‘Calm down now, Sarah. I’m paying her.’ He grasped one of her hands. ‘Now be quiet, woman. I can’t cope with this on me own. So you whisht now, and save your strength.’ Sarah lay back against the pillows, her face drenched with sweat. Her lips were cracked and dry. Turning awkwardly towards the bedside table, she picked up a glass of water and sipped the warm liquid gratefully. A little later Matilda brought up a bucket of steaming water. The doctor set about sterilising his things, including a large pair of scissors.

By nine in the evening Sarah was in great distress, as was the child within her. Twice the doctor had tried to push his arm inside her to turn the child and each time he had failed. He wiped his hands on a towel he had brought with him.

This child had to be born, and soon, or he would lose the pair of them. Blast Benjamin Ryan! It was always the same. He gave her a child every year, but was never there when it came into the world.

The little boys kept their vigil on the stairs. All were tired and hungry. Michael, waiting at the top, was silently cursing his father as he looked at his younger brothers’ little faces. Benny was sucking the arm of his jumper.

Suddenly there was a loud banging on the front door. Six-year-old Garry answered it, only to be knocked flying as two policemen came crashing in. Michael took one look at them and, swearing under his breath, ran into his mother’s bedroom. Cries could be heard from the stairs as the policemen tried to make their way up to the landing, the remaining boys making it as difficult as possible for them in the hope that their brother would get away.

Michael had opened the bedroom window and was half in and half out as the policemen burst into the room.

Then the lights went out.

‘Who turned off the lights, you little bastards?’

‘No one turned off the bleeding lights. The electric’s

gone.’ Sarah’s voice was faint. The policemen turned on their torches.

‘Bring those over here. This woman is in danger of her life.’ The urgency in the doctor’s voice brought both men to the bed. The boy was long gone, they both knew that. Sarah was writhing in agony, tears on her cheeks.

‘You lot want slaughtering. My boy ain’t done nothing.’

Matilda Jenkins broke in, ‘Look, has anyone got a shilling for the meter?’

‘I have.’ The smaller of the two policemen fished some change out of his pocket. Leaving his colleague to help the doctor, he walked from the room and carefully made his way down the stairs. Stepping through the children as gently as he could, he went to the cupboard under the stairs and, locating the meter, put a shilling in. He put in another, and turned off his torch as he stepped out of the cupboard. Seven pairs of eyes were looking at him with open hostility, even the youngest’s who was not yet four. The man looked at the boys as if seeing them for the first time. At the heads close-cropped to combat the lice and the holey jumpers with elbows poking through. He stood for a while staring at them. He felt for the first time in his life what it must be like to be one of them and was overwhelmed with a feeling of sadness and futility. Taking out his wallet, he pulled out a ten-shilling note and offered it to Geoffrey, the second eldest. :

‘Get yourself over the Messer’s and get some fish and chips.’

‘We don’t want old Bill’s money!’

‘Hark at the hard man! Well, clever clogs, your little brothers are starving, so go and do what I tell you.’

He pushed the money into Geoffrey’s hands. All the boy’s instincts told him to throw the money back at the policeman, their natural enemy, but his little brothers’

faces changed his mind. They had not eaten for nearly two days. Sullenly, he pushed past the man, who held on to his arm.

‘Tell that brother of yours that we’ll catch him in the end so he might as well give himself up.’

Geoffrey pulled his arm roughly away. Then, looking at the man as if he was so much dirt, he let himself out of the front door. The constable walked back up the stairs, shaking his head.

In the bedroom, Sarah was fighting to get the child born. The other policeman was holding her down, while the doctor was cutting her down below. As he cut she gave an almighty push and ripped open to her behind. The child slipped into the world, still in its birth sac. The doctor punched this open and looked at the little blue face inside. He cleaned its nose and gently blew into its mouth while he pressed tenderly on its tiny ribcage. The baby coughed and gave a little cry. Then, taking a deep breath, began to bawl its head off. Quick as a flash the doctor had cut the cord, passed the child to Matilda Jenkins, and was stitching away at Sarah as if his own life depended on it.

She lay against the pillows, her whole body numb. She swore to herself that this was going to be the last child.

‘Your first girl, Sarah.’ Matilda’s voice was kind.

She sat up in the bed, dumbstruck, her face aglow as if lit from the inside. She grinned, showing all her large yellowing teeth.

‘You’re joking! I thought it was another boy! A girl! It is really a girl?’

Even the policemen smiled at her. She was genuinely amazed.

‘Oh, let me have her. Let me hold her! A daughter at last, thank Gawd!’

Matilda placed the child in her arms. The baby was now

cleaned up and Sarah looked down into the bluest eyes she had ever seen.

‘She’s a beauty, Sarah.’

She stared down at her daughter in wonderment. This was her thirteenth child, but her first girl. All tiredness was forgotten as she gazed at her daughter. Then she looked around her at the other smiling faces, and remembered why the policemen were there. The elder of the two had been coming to the house for nigh on fifteen years. Ben had even been at it all through the war.

‘What’s my Mickey supposed to have done now?’ Her voice was flat.

‘He’s been running for a bookie again, Sarah. I’ve warned him twice now. This time I’m going to nick him. So you tell him to come and see me.’

She looked back at her daughter. The doctor had finished, and, after removing the old newspapers from under Sarah, covered her up. She looked back at the policeman.

‘I’ll tell him, Frank, but he’s like the old man. He goes his own way.’ Her voice was low.

Matilda Jenkins opened the bedroom door and called the rest of the boys in. They all trooped in, eating their fish and chips, and clustered around the bed. Benny could not see anything so pulled on the doctor’s coat.

‘What do you want, child?’ , :

Benny looked up with his little monkey face. His mouth was full of food.

‘Is it Hovis, then?’

‘Hovis? The doctor’s voice was puzzled. ‘What are you on about, boy?’

‘Hovis … you know, brown bread. Well, is it?’ ‘

The doctor looked around him for enlightenment.

‘Brown bread? Are you delirious, child?’

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‘He means is it dead? Brown bread … dead. Get it?’

This was spoken by Anthony, and his tone indicated that if anyone was stupid it was not his little brother.

‘Brown bread, bejasus! No, it’s not. It’s very much alive. Now eat your chips, you little heathen. Brown bread indeed!’ ,

The policemen laughed.

‘How long you been in London, Doc?’ the elder asked. ‘Twenty years? And you still don’t know the lingo.’ They thought this highly amusing. ‘We’d better be off, Sar. Don’t forget to tell Michael when he gets in.’

‘I won’t forget, Frank. I’ll tell him, but he won’t come. You know that.’

‘Well, try and persuade him. Good luck with the new arrival. See you all.’The two men left. Sarah looked at her sons’ faces and smiled.

‘It’s a girl!’

All the boys grinned at her. ‘A daughter for me old age.’ She hugged the child to her. ‘I’m going to call her Maura. Maura Ryan. I like that.’

‘Shall I go and get Mickey, Mum? I saved him some chips.’

‘Yeah, Geoff. Tell him the coast is clear.’ . The doctor stopped packing away his instruments and looked at Sarah sternly.

‘You knew where he was all along?’

She grinned at him. ‘Course I did. He’s in the Anderson shelter at number 119. He always hides there.’

Seeking the funny side of what Sarah said, Martin? O’Reilly threw back his head and laughed out loud. Seven mouths stopped chewing as the boys stared at him.

‘What a night! Your little girl certainly picked her time to arrive. She saved young Michael’s bacon tonight, that’s a fact.’

Sarah chuckled with him. ‘She did that all right!’ Pat Johnstone, Sarah’s best friend and next-door neighbour, came into the bedroom with a tray of tea. She ushered all the boys out and poured Sarah a strong cup.

‘Here you are, girl. Get your laughing gear around that. What about you, Doc? Fancy a cuppa?’

‘That would be grand. I’m parched.’

Pat poured the doctor out a cup of tea and placed it on the bedside table. Then she sat on the bed next to Sarah. She looked at the baby and gasped with surprise.

‘Oh, my Gawd! She’s a cracker, ain’t she?’ Her naturally loud voice seemed to bounce off the walls. ‘Gis’ a little hold, Sar.’

Sarah passed the child to her and took a deep drink of her tea. ‘This is just what I needed, Pat.’

‘Is that right the filth came in looking for your Mickey and the electric went? I nearly wet meself laughing when Mrs Jenkins told me, I thought it was so funny.’

Sarah rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Oh, please, Pat. Don’t remind me!’

The doctor finished putting his things away and drank his tea. ‘That was lovely. It just hit the right spot. Now I’ll be off, Sarah. Don’t get out of bed until I tell you that it’s safe. I’ve had to put in a lot of stitches. If you start to bleed, send one of the lads around for me, OK?’

‘I will, Martin. And thanks for everything.’

‘That’s all right. I’ll see you in the morning. ‘Bye now.’

He went out of the bedroom and down the.stairs to the hallway where Matilda Jenkins was waiting for him with her hand out. He slipped a ten-shilling note into her palm.

‘Thanks, Matilda, ‘Bye.’

“Bye, Doctor O’Reilly.’

She closed the front door behind him. He walked down the flight of stairs that led to the road and looked at his

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car, a Rover 90. It was his pride and joy. There was not a windscreen wiper to be seen. He should have known this would happen in Lancaster Road.

‘Little buggers!’