Coming Home to Liverpool Read online

  Kate Eastham

  * * *

  COMING HOME TO LIVERPOOL

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  About the Author

  Elizabeth Blackwell (1821–1910) was the first woman to obtain a medical degree in America and the first female doctor on the register of the General Medical Council in Britain. In 1857, together with her sister Dr Emily Blackwell (1826–1910) and another physician, Dr Marie Zakrzewska, she founded the New York Infirmary for Women and Children, the very first hospital in America specifically for women.

  The pioneering Blackwell sisters were born in England but they emigrated to America with their family in 1832. Determined to be a doctor, Elizabeth withstood many rejections from medical colleges until she finally gained a place, obtaining her qualification in 1849. Sadly, whilst undergoing further training in Europe she contracted an eye disease from one of her patients and lost the sight in one eye. This meant that her dream of becoming a surgeon would never be realized.

  Although Elizabeth had warned her younger sister of the grim prospects faced by women doctors, Emily was determined to follow the same path. A brilliant woman, she graduated with the highest honours, and became a surgeon at their New York infirmary. Two years later, Elizabeth returned to Britain to pursue other interests and Emily took over the management of the infirmary, running it successfully for a further forty years.

  By the same author

  Miss Nightingale’s Nurses

  The Liverpool Nightingales

  Daughters of Liverpool

  1

  ‘Not only the life of your patients may depend on your faithfulness to duty, but by it you may also influence for good their virtue and happiness …’

  Florence Nightingale

  Liverpool, 1872

  ‘Nursey, nursey,’ called a row of barefoot boys, sitting cheekily on a wall near the Albert Dock, swinging their grubby legs as Eddy walked by. She lunged at them and pretended to tickle their feet, laughing more herself than any of the boys. Then, pulling her nurse’s cape back into place, she picked up speed, expertly threading her way through the crowds of people making their way towards the harbour, one or two of them nodding, smiling or murmuring, ‘Evening, Sister,’ as they went on their way.

  She needed to breathe some air, gather herself, as she often did before going back to the hospital for supplies. Her days on the district were demanding; out in people’s homes, the nurses were working on their own and dealing with everything. But the work was good and today she was especially pleased, having had a real breakthrough with one of her patients – a young mother of two small children, suffering terribly with consumption. When she’d first visited Sylvia she’d found her very breathless and spitting blood. It was thought by all involved that time would be short. And for the first week, Eddy had cried every single day when she’d closed the door of that house behind her, leaving Sylvia as comfortable as she could be, propped up in bed with little Rosanna nestled under one arm and Archie under the other.

  But today, after she’d gently helped her to wash, combed her hair and applied soothing cream to the reddened skin on her elbows and the notches of her spine, Sylvia had smiled and said she wanted to sit out of bed, watch the children play for a bit. Eddy had been delighted to help her and even more pleased to note that her breathing was less laboured: the steam inhaler that she’d advised seemed to be making a difference at last. She knew, of course, that there would inevitably be dark days ahead, but today was the first time that Eddy had seen Sylvia smile, and it meant a lot.

  Reaching the waterfront at last, Eddy took a deep breath of salt air and then gazed out across the river, savouring the breeze in her face. Looking out towards the ocean she closed her eyes for a moment, picturing her dear friend Maud as she boarded a steamship in New York, all the way across the Atlantic. She would be back with them in Liverpool in one week. ‘Safe voyage, Maudie,’ she whispered, blowing a kiss out to sea.

  As she walked through the city, Eddy thought back through the rest of her day and all the other patients that she’d seen, making a mental note of the materials that she’d need to replenish her medical bag: cotton wool, lint, bandages, a new bar of carbolic soap, and another mouthpiece for Sylvia’s inhaler. And she’d get a bag of sweets for Rosanna and Archie, and see if she could scrounge a few oranges from a street seller – take one for Sylvia and any of her other patients who needed them.

  It wasn’t until after she’d collected her materials from the hospital and sat herself down on the steps of the Nurses’ Home to wait for her friend coming off duty that Eddy began to feel tired. But just as soon as she saw Alice coming along the path from the Infirmary, she jumped up, waving and shouting enthusiastically. ‘Only one week to go till Maud’s home!’

  ‘Yes!’ called Alice, picking up her uniform skirt and running the rest of the way. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Eddy moved to hug her but then pulled back. ‘You smell strange,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Oh, sorry, yes, there was a bit of an incident on the ward,’ said Alice, indicating the soiled apron that she held rolled up in one hand. ‘I should have known better really, but a delirious man on Male Medical hadn’t eaten anything for days. I’ve been trying since this morning to get some bread and milk inside him and I think it must have gone a bit sour. Anyway, just now, I tried again, and he grabbed the bowl and chucked it at me. Then he grabbed me too, and it’s a good job the orderlies were at the next bed – I’ve never seen Michael and Stephen move so fast – but they had him restrained before he could do me any harm. Most of it went on my apron, but it was all over the floor as well and Sister Cleary nearly slipped in it when she came running over … It was quite an episode.’

  ‘And so the life of the hospital goes on,’ grinned Eddy, picking out some remnants of sour bread paste that still clung to Alice’s hair. ‘Best get you tidied up and shipshape before Maud comes back, we both know what a stickler she is …’

  ‘Matron Maud Linklater,’ laughed Alice, hugging Eddy before they both ran giggling up the stone steps and into the building. They stopped short when the door to the superintendent’s room clicked open and Miss Merryweather appeared in her bonnet.

  ‘Well, well,’ she said, as they both stood holding their breath, waiting to be told off for making too much noise. ‘It looks like you two have some exciting news. Could it be anything to do with our Nurse Linklater’s return?’

  ‘Yes,’ beamed Eddy. ‘We can’t wait to see her, and it won’t be long now. She’s setting sail today from New York on the Abyssinia and she’ll be back with us in exactly a we—’

  ‘Will there be a position for Maud at the hospital?’ interjected Alice, nudging Eddy hard with her elbow to shut her up.

  ‘I do believe there will. Our esteemed assistant superintendent, Miss Houston, has already made a request … and we will be very glad to have Nurse Linklater back at the Liverpool Royal, no doubt laden with new knowledge of surgery and theatre gained at the Infirmary for Women in New York.’

  ‘Yes, indeed,’ smiled Alice, nodding.

  ‘Imagine that, nurses,’ continued Miss Merryweather rather wistfully, as she made her w
ay out through the door, ‘a whole hospital run by women, even the doctors and the surgeon, and just for female patients …’

  ‘What was that for?’ muttered Eddy, still rubbing her arm.

  ‘As you were blabbing on about Maud and exactly when she would be back, all the other nurses were walking past behind us, including Millicent Langtry,’ hissed Alice. ‘I’ve tried to keep Maud’s return quiet until she’s safely back in Liverpool and I’ve deliberately not mentioned anything at all to Millicent. She was almost certainly the one who somehow found out about Maud’s wedding and informed Nancy Sellers, and that’s why she turned up in church that day. Thankfully, she left before Maud caught sight of her but we don’t want to risk another incident. You know what Nancy’s like. Ever since we all started our training together, she’s tried to make trouble for Maud, for some unknown reason.’

  ‘Sorry, Alice,’ whispered Eddy, ‘I forgot about that. Do you think she heard?’

  ‘I don’t know, you can never tell with Millicent, and as far as I know she doesn’t even see Nancy any more, but we need to keep it quiet.’

  ‘Sorry, Alice. Me and my big mouth.’

  ‘Well, I know what you’re like. You get carried away, but you need to be more careful.’

  Alice pressed her lips together and tried to stay firm, but in the end she couldn’t bear to see Eddy looking sorrowful, so she put an arm around her. ‘Look, it’s probably just me worrying too much, and besides, what harm can Nancy do? Apart from a few snide comments, what harm can she actually do?’

  At that very moment across the city, Nancy Sellers lifted her head as if someone had called her name. She felt a prickling of hairs on the back of her neck but, not detecting any sound other than the spit of the fire, she picked up her china cup and took a delicate sip of tea before replacing it with a chink in the ornately patterned saucer. Removing a lace handkerchief from her sleeve, she used it to pat her face. She was warm by the fire, too warm. She could feel her cheeks starting to flush. Maybe she could make use of that silk fan that her private patient had on her bedside table. That would do very well.

  ‘Nurse Sellers,’ called Mrs Davenport from the next room, the weakness of her voice indicating how much more breathless she had become in the last few weeks.

  Nancy continued to pat her face with the handkerchief; no need to move just yet, she would wait for the next call.

  ‘Nurse Sellers,’ called the weary voice again, and this time Nancy tucked the handkerchief back inside her sleeve and took another sip of tea.

  ‘Nurse,’ called the poor woman again, and then there was a crash and the tinkle of broken glass.

  Nancy scowled and got up from her chair, taking a moment to stretch her back and then pull the large shawl that she always wore more closely around her shoulders so that it fell and covered the curve of her pregnant belly.

  Pasting a smile on her face, she proceeded into her mistress’s bedchamber, making soothing noises as she went. ‘There, there, Mrs Davenport, don’t you worry, we’ll soon have you straightened up.’

  An elderly lapdog with cloudy eyes lifted his head to yap at her from where he lay curled at the bottom of the bed.

  ‘Be quiet, Henry, you nasty, nippy little pest,’ hissed Nancy, as she made her way to the mantle to pull the cord for a maid to come and tidy up the broken glass. As she waited, she took a bottle of laudanum from the bedside table and gave Mrs Davenport a good dose, dropping it into her mouth and making her swallow it down. ‘The medicine will help your breathing, you must take the drops,’ she murmured, smooth as anything. Then, as she heard the maid’s footsteps outside the door, she took her patient’s hand, tilted her neat blonde head to one side and stood poised, ready for the door to open.

  ‘Our dear Mrs Davenport has had a little accident with a glass,’ cooed Nancy, using her sweetest tone, all the while thinking of how many more days she would need to withstand being here, shut up in this room, waiting for the father of her baby to return.

  It thrilled her to think of him going about his daily business, not having any idea about the baby. She hadn’t seen him for all the months of her pregnancy. He was working away, but last week she’d received word that he was coming back to Liverpool. She revelled in the memory of those few nights they’d spent together. The warmth of his body against hers, the smell of him and, when she laid her head on his chest as he slept off the drink, the rhythmic sound of his beating heart. She smiled with pleasure when she thought of his new wife: all prim and proper, she wouldn’t stand a chance of keeping him when he found out about the baby. Not a chance.

  She’d been angry with him when she’d received the news of his return from one of her sources. He’d promised to write. Clearly, he’d thought he could sneak back into Liverpool without being seen, but he was wrong. She would be ready and waiting for him, and she couldn’t wait to see his face when he saw her belly.

  Once Mrs Davenport was sleeping and the maid had retreated from the room, Nancy removed the silk fan from the bedside table, ignoring the dog who immediately lifted his head and growled at her. She walked back to her anteroom and settled herself by the fire. She could feel the baby pushing inside her, the movement rippling against the fabric of her dress, she even saw the shawl move when it gave an extra hard kick. Nancy feared what she might have to go through at the birth, but she was weary of all this now. She wanted it over with.

  Slipping a piece of paper out from a folded pad, she took up a quill pen and dipped it into the ink. She’d started to make plans as soon as she’d heard the news of her old lover’s return, and she’d been able to secure some lodgings and persuade Mrs Davenport to put her name to a contract securing a tidy sum of severance pay.

  ‘Just seven days to go,’ she murmured as the pen scratched on the writing paper, ‘seven days and he will be mine.’

  2

  ‘… a Boston lady, training matron to the Massachusetts General Hospital, has in a very spirited manner come to us for training … I think we have as much to learn from her as she from us.’

  Florence Nightingale

  New York, 1872

  Maud walked behind the boy, not taking her eyes off him for a moment. The bag she was carrying dragged on her arms but she was strong enough to manage it and, thankfully, Alfred had worked out that he could balance the rest of their luggage, packed in a large cloth bag, on his head. He was only ten years old, but he’d walked off in front, calm as anything, whilst she followed along behind, burning with fury.

  She was even more furious as they pushed their way along Broadway amidst crowds of people bumping past and knocking into them. Not only that, they were up against a mass of excited immigrants streaming into the city. On any other day, Maud would have been heartened to witness this lively procession of people wearing brightly coloured scarves, heading towards a new life. But thanks to her husband, Harry, their day had started off badly, and this time, there was no excuse. He’d promised to be back at their lodgings in Lower Manhattan in time to escort them safely to the seaport. And they’d waited as long as they possibly could, sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea, all the while enduring the knowing glances of Mrs Kelly, their Irish landlady, as the clock above the mantle ticked away every second that he didn’t come through the door. She knew that when he was out working, he had no sense of time; but surely, just this once, he could have made an extra effort to be back. Not just for her, but for Alfred as well. The boy adored his adopted father.

  ‘For goodness’ sake,’ she muttered under her breath as Alfred ducked smartly out of the way when a big-boned man carrying a huge trunk almost knocked him off his feet. ‘Watch what you’re doing!’ she shouted after the man, adjusting the weight of her bag as she marched along with two bright red spots of anger burning on her pale cheeks. She was so incensed that she almost walked slap bang into a blue-uniformed policeman as he stood surveying several carriages and an omnibus, noisily jammed side to side across the wide cobbled street.

  The closer they got to
the port at South Street, the heavier Maud felt. With the effort of struggling through the crowd her anger had started to ebb, only to be replaced by a leaden feeling in the pit of her stomach. And for the first time since she’d made her decision to leave her work at the Women’s Infirmary, she started to feel doubt creeping in. When the news had come that her oldest friend was gravely ill, of course she’d wanted to go back to Liverpool to see her. After all, without the support of Miss Fairchild, she would never have been able to leave her position as a housemaid and become a nurse and travel to America in the first place. And even now, as she trudged along behind Alfred, she was sure that it was the right thing to do. But although she’d told herself that she could always come back to New York if she wanted, she had just begun to realize that once she was back at the Liverpool Royal Infirmary, she would find it very difficult to leave. And even though Harry had readily agreed to return to Liverpool, she’d sensed that he’d been thrown by her decision. He had soon been back asking if it was all right if he stayed on for another month, to complete some business deal that he’d been working on.

  ‘Look, Maud! There’s the bridge,’ shouted Alfred, stopping and turning full circle, with the bag on his head, to give her a beaming smile. That smile gave Maud an instant boost and, as always, seeing the Brooklyn Bridge under construction made her heart beat a little faster.

  They didn’t need to go much further before the gulls were circling overhead and Alfred was calling out again and pointing to the impressive hull of a ship, carefully attended by cranes hoisting cargo aboard. ‘That’s ours, Maud! The Abyssinia, an iron steamer, just where Harry said she would be.’

  And as they moved closer, Maud could hear the creaking of the ropes, the lap of the water and the urgency of the men shouting to each other as they organized the passengers and loaded the ship.