The Bad Penny (40 page)

Patty fetched her own black bag and tipped her used instruments into the sterilising tin, then turned towards her bedroom. ‘I’ve worked my hands raw today,’ she said in a tired voice. ‘I’ll just get into a clean dress and then I’ll give Maggie a hand with the supper. When I’ve changed, I’ll throw the laundry bag out so you can add your stuff, Ellie, and then we can begin to relax.’

‘I can’t. I’m going to the flicks with me John as soon as I’ve eaten,’ Ellen said cheerfully. ‘Wharrabout you, Patty? Are you seeing Toby?’

‘Not tonight,’ Patty said, poking her head back into the room. ‘To tell the truth, I feel a bit low. Darky sent a telegram saying they won’t be coming home until the fourteenth – it seems an age away. Still, I know it’s for the best; the journey would be too much for Merry in her present state.’

Ellen agreed and presently, alone in her room, Patty began to consider the past couple of weeks. She had worried about Merry, of course she had, but she trusted Mrs Knight and knew that Darky would do anything he could for her small daughter. He had been awfully good, writing to Patty every single day and giving a progress report which was so detailed that she had almost imagined herself to be present in the narrow little house in Glasgow.

Then Toby’s constant, loving companionship and his deep interest in everything she said and did was a great comfort. The amusements and entertainments to which he took her often kept her mind from Merry for several hours together, and working on the fair was something so new and exciting that it was like a different life. She had grown accustomed to the chaff and chatter with which her customers on the shooting gallery greeted her and was able to chaff and chatter back, giving as good as she got and thoroughly enjoying the light-hearted repartee. Toby had told her afterwards that she might have been born to it.

‘I’m beginning to believe you love it as much as I do,’ he said, his eyes twinkling. ‘I’ve spent me life looking for someone who’d fit in and enjoy the fair and now I’ve found her! I tell you, Patty Peel, you and me make a grand team.’

Patty had laughed, pushing back the strands of golden hair from her flushed face, but she had enjoyed the compliment and, when she was with him, she often thought that she really could become a member of the fair family. They were so friendly and warm, so good-naturedly anxious to help one another. Even Maggie, who was still a little doubtful of Toby, adored life on the gaff. And Merry’s so young that she would take to it as a matter of course, Patty told herself. Oh, but I do miss her! And to think that Toby’s never even met her! Well, he’s in for a pleasant surprise, because a sweeter, prettier child was never born.

Thinking it over now as she gradually relaxed, she reminded herself that Toby truly needed help from someone on his shooting gallery. She was useful to him, but she was sure this was not the only reason he was beginning to court her. She believed he was genuinely attracted by her. She imagined that the fact that she had run the shooting gallery so well over Christmas was a sort of delightful extra. Going over what he had said, how he had behaved, she decided that he probably did mean to propose marriage when they had spent rather more time together. The only fly in the ointment was his genuine liking for women – all women. Several times, when he had been making her pretty speeches, she had noticed his attention wandering, his eyes roving speculatively over a couple of pretty girls as they walked, arms linked, past the caravan. She guessed that he had not yet seriously considered the chief responsibility of marriage, which was to remain faithful to one’s marital partner. He had volunteered to move in with a pal so that she might stay in his caravan for a couple of days, get to know both life on the gaff and himself a little better, but so far she had not taken him up on the offer. It was going too far and too fast for Patty, who liked to think out every move before she made it. I’m staid and dull, except when I’m with Toby, she told herself sadly. But that’s the way I am and I can’t change it. If I move into the big green caravan it will be as Toby’s wife, not as an experiment!

One thing Toby had done for her, however, was to dissipate her fear of physical closeness. He had never taken advantage of her but had constantly cuddled, kissed and squeezed, telling her that this was natural and normal between two such old friends who hoped to become, in time, more than friends. Patty had actually begun to enjoy this mild form of love-making and to think that maybe – just maybe – marriage might be quite a pleasant thing after all. As for Toby’s roving eye, that, she imagined, could be easily dealt with once the knot was tied.

Then Ellen had told her, only the previous day, that she was becoming quite human. ‘I can’t say I like Toby the way I like Darky,’ Ellen had said frankly. ‘But then I’ve never been out with Toby, so I don’t know him the way I know Darky. Toby never takes much notice of me, come to think. That’s natural, of course, since it’s plain as the nose on your face that the feller’s going to ask you to marry him any day now. What’ll you say when he does, queen?’

‘I think Toby should be the first person to know that,’ Patty had said primly, but with a smirk. In fact, she had no idea what she was going to say when – or rather if – Toby asked her to be his wife. She, an orphan without a relative to her name, was immensely attracted by the idea of belonging to the extended family of the fair, for she was quite acute enough to realise that this was probably why Toby himself had taken to the life. What was more, Toby had a definite effect on her. He was light-hearted, easy-going, permanently pleased with life and happy go lucky. When she was with him she felt the same; her worries receded and she simply lived for the moment.

Of course, there was the other side of the coin. She knew herself to be a dedicated member of her profession; ever since Selina had first talked to her about her nursing career she had longed to follow in her friend’s footsteps. It isn’t that I’m a do-gooder, Patty told herself, brushing her teeth hard and spitting into the remains of her washing water, then emptying the bowl into the slop bucket. No, I’m not a do-gooder, but I’ve worked like a galley slave to get the job I have, and I really enjoy helping my patients, delivering their babies, teaching them how to look after their little ones. Toby has said I need not give up my work, could continue with it either in New Brighton or even in my present district, if I could manage the journey to and from work each day. But if I married I would want children of my own and that would put a pretty decided stop to my career. To my hopes of a small country cottage, animals of my own, a proper garden … well, I suppose I might have them in time if I married Toby, since he has said he would stay in New Brighton if that was what I wanted.

Clad in her clean dress, Patty went back into the kitchen to join her companions.

It had been a long train journey for all of them, but perhaps especially trying for young Merry, Darky thought, as they reached Lime Street station. The carriage was full but he managed to get out on to the platform first, then turned and held up his arms as his mother lifted the sleeping child and handed her down to him. Poor little kid, Darky thought, looking down into her flushed face. She had been good as gold, playing games, listening to stories and trying not to scratch, for though the rash had disappeared it had left dry and flaky patches of skin on the insides of her elbows and the backs of her knees, and Mrs Knight had been most anxious that she should not rub and make the dry skin worse.

Darky tucked the child into the crook of his arm and grabbed the suitcase which his mother was shoving towards him. He stood it on the platform and gave Mrs Knight a hand down, then thanked a fellow passenger who passed him his own carpetbag. Mrs Knight had dozed a little as daylight faded and now she knuckled her eyes, pulled her hat further down on her brow and picked up the suitcase.

‘Put that down, Mam,’ Darky said. ‘I’ll let you take the carpetbag because that’s not too heavy but I can manage Merry and the suitcase. It’s not for long, because we’re getting a taxi.’

‘A taxi?’ Mrs Knight said, sounding scandalised. ‘What’s wrong wi’ a tram, son? You’ve lost three weeks’ pay as it is; you don’t want to go throwing your money about on taxis.’

Darky laughed. It was typical of his mother to try to save a bob or two of his hard-earned money, but he had no intention of hanging about in the cold with a child who had only just recovered from a nasty attack of the measles. He said as much as they made their way towards the taxi rank on Lime Street and Mrs Knight grudgingly agreed that she supposed he was right.

‘She’s been such a good little girl, she don’t deserve to have to hang about in the cold, you’re right there,’ she agreed. ‘My goodness, I’ll feel like a queen driving up to Ashfield Place in a cab! I wonder what Patty will say when she sees us getting out of a taxi?’

‘She won’t say anything because she won’t be at home,’ Darky pointed out. ‘It’s only four o’clock and I never said in my telegram which train we were catching because I didn’t want her to feel that she ought to meet us. She works terrible hard, Mam, and needs time to get through her rounds each day. But think what a nice surprise it will be when she gets back from work and finds we’re all settled in again, with a meal on the table and the fire blazing in the stove.’

Mrs Knight groaned. ‘I hadn’t thought – I suppose the fire will be out and there’ll be hardly any food in the cupboard … oh, and what about milk? Conny-onny’s grand watered down, but Merry’s been used to having a mug of real milk before she goes to sleep at night.’ She turned anxious eyes on her son. ‘I know Patty must have been hard pressed, only having Maggie at weekends, but do you think she’ll have had time to do the messages? If not, perhaps we’d better get the taxi driver to drop us off at the corner of Latimer Street so that we can pop in and get some groceries from Mr Flowerdew.’

‘Patty will have got food in,’ Darky said comfortably, helping his mother into the back of the waiting cab. ‘And she’ll have damped down the fire, so all we’ll have to do is stir it with the poker. I don’t know whether she’ll have seen to things in number twenty-three or twenty-four, but I’m sure we shan’t go into a cold house. Patty’s reliable as well as kind, you know, Mam. He hefted the suitcases into the cab and followed his mother into the back. He had already told the driver their destination and now he sank back on the worn leather seat with a contented sigh. ‘This sure is the best way to travel,’ he remarked. ‘My, but I’m gasping for a cuppa. Oh, Mam, I’m that glad to be home!’

‘Work tomorrow,’ his mother said prosaically. ‘Back to Levers and soapflakes and girls giving you a mouthful. Wharrabout that, eh?’

‘Oh, Levers ain’t so bad,’ Darky said drowsily. ‘But being up in Glasgow and having time to meself has made me think. I’m a good electrician and I’ve had a deal of experience these past ten years or so. I’m thinking about having a go at working for meself.’

His mother stared at him, but before she could speak, Merry, who had been sleeping soundly, woke up with a cry. ‘Where is we? What’s happening?’ she demanded fretfully. She turned in Mrs Knight’s arms and patted her. ‘Oh, you’re still here, Nanna. I dreamed a big, big monkey had stolen you away and was swinging through the trees with me tucked under one arm. Only then he dropped me and I was falling … falling … Oh, Nanna, I were frightened, so I were.’

Mrs Knight gave her small charge a loving hug. ‘It’s all right, queen, we’re nearly home,’ she said consolingly. ‘And as soon as we get indoors, Nanna will put the kettle on and we’ll all have a nice cup of tea!’

When they reached Ashfield Place, Darky’s optimism was confirmed. As they stepped into the warm, firelit kitchen of No. 23, there was a note leaning against a pot of chrysanthemums in the middle of the kitchen table. Darky read it aloud to his mother and Merrell. ‘Welcome home! Meat and potato pie on shelf in pantry, only needs warming through. I’ll be back sevenish. Lots of kisses for Merry, Patty.’

‘There, I told you so,’ Darky said, walking over to the fire and pulling the kettle over the flame. Whilst his mother unwrapped Merry from her layers of garments, he checked the pie in the pantry and came back into the room smiling broadly. ‘It’s a huge pie,’ he said gleefully, ‘big enough to feed an army, and there’s a jam roly-poly for afters. There’s a jug of milk standing in a bowl of water on the cold slab and a Victoria sponge under the gauze cover, so we shan’t starve.’ He rubbed his hands together and walked over to set out teapot and cups on the kitchen table. ‘And in two hours or so, Patty will be home.’

As he spoke, there was a rattle as though someone had thrown a handful of gravel up to the balcony. Mrs Knight went over to the window and glanced out. ‘Weather’s taken a turn for the worse,’ she observed. ‘The wind’s got up and that rattling sound were hail. Poor Patty! It looks as though she’ll need a good, hot fire and a decent meal when she gets home.’

By the time Monday morning arrived, Patty was so excited that she had to speak severely to herself; they can’t get home before early evening and if they miss a connection they won’t be home then, so it’s no use getting into a lather. It would have been lovely to meet them at the station but she had a hectic day ahead of her, with a great many revisits to patients who had given birth over the past couple of weeks and to three expectant mums who were already overdue.

As they got ready for work, she and Ellen discussed the day ahead and Patty said that she was longing to take half an hour off that afternoon and see if she could meet the train which the Knights and Merrell were most likely to be on. Ellen smiled sympathetically but said sadly that her own duties made it impossible to stand in for Patty, even for half an hour. ‘Mrs Reynolds has three children under five and the twins, who aren’t yet a week old,’ she explained. ‘If I don’t turn up there at around quarter to five, no one will get a meal and Mrs Reynolds will be in tears by the time her old man gets home. Then he’ll be angry and we can’t have that, not with all those little kids around.’

The girls were not supposed to have favourites among their patients, but Mrs Reynolds was a sweet, generous person who did her best for everyone and was usually both cheerful and efficient. Unfortunately, the birth of the twins had been difficult and had left Mrs Reynolds completely washed out, liable to burst into tears if the least thing went wrong and incapable, for the moment, of running her own life. Mr Reynolds was a pleasant little man who worked in a large grocery shop on Heyworth Street. In normal circumstances, tea would have been on the table and the children washed and ready for bed by the time he arrived home, and he could not understand why things should be different simply because two babies had arrived instead of the one which had been expected. Patty and Ellen both knew that Mr Reynolds would never use violence towards his wife, but they also knew that when he came home tired and hungry and found nothing on the table, and a weeping wife sitting helplessly before the fire, he would shout, perhaps even call names, and this would only worsen Mrs Reynolds’s condition. So, in a way, it was in Ellen’s own interest to see that Mr Reynolds got his supper on time. Experience showed that a mother recovered from the depression which sometimes followed childbirth within a relatively short period, provided she was treated with sympathy and understanding.

‘Yes, of course. I never really thought you’d be able to stand in for me today,’ Patty said, shovelling her instruments into her black bag. ‘And it isn’t as if I know what train they’ll be catching, because Darky never said. I spent all last evening cooking so there’s plenty of food in the house and I made up the fire in number twenty-three and damped it down before I put my uniform on, so that’s all right. I’ll write them a bit of a note, telling them I’ll be home sevenish. I’ll do that right now and then get off; you never know, I might get through my visits early for once.

*

After Patty had left her, Ellen bustled about doing all the little jobs that the two girls and Maggie normally shared between them. The previous evening, Patty had told her that she must go round to the Knights’ at supper time, since there would be plenty of food for all of them, so at least she did not have to make any preparations for the evening meal, but she damped down the fire and carried the big black kettle over to the sink, filling it with water and standing it on the hob so that it could be easily pulled over the fire when needed.

She was packing her bag and preparing to leave the house when there was a knock at the door. Ellen heaved a deep sigh and picked up her bag. She opened the door expecting to find a child or the husband of one of her patients preparing to ruin her carefully planned day, but instead Toby Rudd stood there. He was wearing a ragged cap and an equally ragged jacket and did not look at all like the dapper young man whom Ellen had met only twice when he had come to call for her friend.

Ellen opened her mouth to tell him that Patty was not at home, but Toby spoke before she could do so. ‘Where’s Patty? I’ve got to talk to her,’ he said urgently. ‘I’ve had a message from the Flanagan’s; young Ted Flanagan’s been took bad – they think it’s appendicitis – when he were halfway through dismantling the engine which turns the big galloper. It could be a couple a’weeks before he’s out of hospital and fit again and there’s no one, apart from meself, as knows how to put the engine together again.’

‘Oh dear,’ Ellen said politely, wondering what on earth this had to do with Patty. So far as she could remember, the Flanagan’s were the family who owned the travelling fair Toby had belonged to before he came to New Brighton. Why should young Ted’s afflictions affect him now? But Toby was pushing past her, clearly both impatient and worried – and determined to speak to Patty. Ellen grabbed his arm. ‘It’s no good, Toby. Patty left for work ten or fifteen minutes ago,’ she said briskly. ‘But I’ll be seeing her this evening – can I give her a message? I take it you want to let her know that you’re going off to – to wherever the Flanagan’s are, to put this here engine back together?’

‘Not here?’ Toby looked aghast, as though it had never occurred to him that Patty’s work took her constantly from home, Ellen thought crossly. ‘Not here? But it ain’t even half past eight yet; I made sure she’d still be at home.’

‘Well, she isn’t,’ Ellen said firmly. She stepped out on to the balcony and held the door so that Toby could go past her. ‘What’s more, she won’t be back until around seven this evening, but if you’ve a message for her I might manage to see her at some time during the day.’

‘No, no, that’s not good enough; I need to know what her answer is,’ Toby said wildly. ‘I’m relying on her to run the shooting gallery this evening because otherwise I’ll be letting the New Brighton Riding Master down. Tell me, where am I likely to find her if I set off right now?’

Ellen thought briefly. She knew roughly in which direction her friend had gone. If only she could concentrate … but it was difficult for she herself was running late. ‘Look, walk down with me to my bike while I think,’ she commanded. ‘She had a delivery the night before last – she’ll probably go there first. Yes, and it’s probably the nearest. You’d best try Mrs Ratner at Number Five, Ellesmere Court. It’ll be a fairly long visit, but if she does happen to have moved on – Patty, I mean – she’ll likely have told Mrs Ratner who she’ll be visiting next.’ She eyed Toby rather uncertainly for a moment, then added: ‘But just you remember she’s a working midwife, Mr Rudd, and don’t try and hassle her. Patty’s an excellent nurse and her patients come first. She won’t thank you for butting in on her round unless it’s an emergency, and what is an emergency to you may seem pretty trivial to her.’

By this time they had reached her bicycle and Ellen was unlocking the padlock and slipping it into her pocket, aware that her voice had sounded a trifle cold, but not caring very much. She thought that Toby was trying to make use of her friend, and did not like it.

Toby stared at her, his eyes very bright. ‘Mrs Ratner, Number Five, Ellesmere Court,’ he repeated. ‘Nurse, you know I want to marry Patty, don’t you? I wouldn’t ask her to put herself out unless I was serious, would I? I ain’t the sort of feller to take advantage of me pals.’

‘I should hope not,’ Ellen said, still rather coldly. She was beginning to wonder whether she had done right to tell Toby where he would find Patty; after all, this evening the Knights and Merrell were returning from Scotland.

She said as much to Toby, who flashed her his most charming smile. ‘Yes, but the fair closes at ten tonight, so she won’t be late,’ he said. Ellen opened her mouth to tell him that her friend would have had an exceedingly long day by seven o’clock and would be in no fit state to work another three hours, but she did not get the chance. Toby raised a hand, gave her another charming smile and strode off, calling over his shoulder: ‘Tara then, and thanks for the address.’

Ellen mounted her bicycle and set off towards the home of her first patient. Was he right, she wondered? Would Patty really consider the shooting gallery so important that she would set off for New Brighton before even seeing Merry and the Knights? Of course, she might be able to make arrangements for Maggie to return home, just for the evening, and Patty had already worked very hard to make the homecoming a success. She had prepared all the food, warmed the house through, and had, in fact, left the Knights little to do but pop Merry into bed when their supper was eaten. Besides, Ellen thought, I’ll probably be home before seven, so I’ll give an eye to Merry if Patty’s gone to the fair.

She turned into the little street which housed her first patient and thought, suddenly, of Darky. She knew he was keen on Patty and now she wondered how he would take it if Patty simply swanned off to the fair on his first night home. Darky had a temper and a sharp tongue; she found herself hoping devoutly that Patty would tell Toby where to get off. Life had been so comfortable since Patty and Darky had become friends; a resurrection of their former enmity would be horrible indeed.

‘Thanks very much, Nurse Peel. This baby’s a rare good ‘un, norra sound out of ’im last night. He drinks his supper and falls straight to sleep like me milk were drugged. See ya tomorrer, then!’

Mrs Evans stood on her doorstep, surrounded by her children, all waving vigorously. Patty, smiling, mounted her bicycle, thinking that it was always a joy to visit the Evanses. The children were fat and healthy, though seldom clean, and Mrs Evans was the wife of Joe Evans, who owned a small bakery shop nearby. The family took life lightly and, far from resenting her yearly pregnancies, Mrs Evans was apt to say, blithely, that kids were gifts from God and you couldn’t have too many of them.

‘Goodbye, Mrs Evans, and thanks for the cuppa. I’ve only got two more visits and then I’ll be off home,’ she called cheerily. ‘Good thing, too, because I wouldn’t be surprised if we had a storm later; the wind’s blowing up a hooligan.’

And presently, as she pedalled along towards her next visit, Patty’s words were proved right. It began to hail, the stones bouncing off the road and lashing against her unprotected face so hard that she was forced to dismount and push her bicycle. When the hail eased off, Patty remounted and set off as fast as she could, intent upon reaching her next patient before the wind grew worse or the hail started again. She was cycling with considerable care, aware of the treacherous road surface, when she thought she saw a familiar figure on the farther pavement. ‘Darky!’ she gasped, her heart leaping with unexpected delight. Then the man turned towards her and she realised he was a total stranger. Momentarily distracted, she forgot the slippery surface and felt the bicycle shudder, then slide away from her, felt herself falling … falling … She struggled to save herself, clutching the bicycle wildly, and saw the road rushing up to meet her. There was a screech of brakes, several voices exclaimed and a woman screamed, then Patty felt a violent blow on her head and blackness enveloped her …

‘Derek Knight, if you go to that window once more I shall go mad,’ Mrs Knight declared, wagging a finger at her son. ‘I know it’s a wild night and I know young Patty said sevenish in her note, but you know how conscientious she is. Why, if she were called to a lying-in, she’d have no choice but to go, you know that as well as I do.’

Darky turned away from the window. It was ten past seven and it had begun to thunder; the storm was clearly some way off but, he thought, heading in their direction. ‘I reckon if she were at a lying-in, she’d have sent us a message,’ he said worriedly. ‘There’s always kids around who’ll take a message for a penny or so and Patty isn’t the sort of girl to let anyone down. Oh, Mam, suppose she’s in some sort of trouble?’

‘There you go again, leapin’ to conclusions,’ his mother said wryly, but Darky could see she was worried. ‘Ah, I hear a step!’

Darky flew across to the door. ‘At last! We thought you was …’ His voice faltered to a halt as Ellen came into the kitchen and began to take off her soaking coat and hat, beaming round at them as she did so.

‘Sorry. I suppose you thought I were Patty,’ she said cheerfully, shaking a small river of rain from the brim of her hat. ‘She’s gorra full day, I’m tellin’ you, or she’d have been back by now unless—’ She put a hand to her mouth, then looked wildly round the room. ‘Where’s Merry? How did she manage the journey? I dare say she’s worn out, poor kid. Oh, listen to that weather!’

‘Merry’s in bed in me mam’s room because she were too tired to stay up any longer,’ Darky said evenly, ‘and just what were you going to say, Ellen Purbright? What do you really think has happened to Patty?’

Ellen, hanging her garments on the hooks on the back of the door, turned and smiled at him. ‘I think mebbe a patient is taking longer to deliver than Patty hoped, or mebbe she’s found all her calls have taken a bit more time than expected,’ she said, with a glibness which did not deceive Darky for one moment. She knows Patty better than most people and she really is worried, he thought. Well, anyone would worry if someone they loved was out on a perishin’ bicycle in a storm like this. Still, there’s no point in getting in a state yet; as everyone keeps saying, she’s probably been kept late with a patient.

When eight o’clock came and there was still no sign of Patty, however, all three of them sat around the kitchen table and looked at one another with considerable anxiety. At his mother’s insistence, Darky had agreed that they should have their meal, but as the minutes ticked by he had found it increasingly difficult to swallow and in the end had pushed his plate away with a good half of his slice of the pie still untouched. ‘You can say what you like, Mam,’ he said miserably, getting restlessly to his feet and going over to peer out of the window for the umpteenth time, ‘Patty would have sent a message. She knew we were coming home today and she knew how we’d worry. Why, even Ellen can’t tell us where she is.’