equipment for stitches … sorry …’ Kathy knew if she did she’d probably flout rules and risk her job for Ruby Potter’s sake. As she looked at the pathetic spectacle sitting with hunched shoulders on the bed, she felt tempted to run after Charlie Potter and let fly with her fists, even though she knew it would make her no better than he.
‘Make Nurse a cup of tea, Pansy.’ Ruby’s fat lips made the words sound slurred, as did the muffling edge of the pinafore she was again pressing to her face to stanch the bleeding.
The little girl shook the dented kettle and, satisfied it had water in it, set it on the hob grate, then squatted down in front of the fire to wait for it to boil.
‘Probably got no bloody milk. Suppose that selfish git’s used it all in his tea,’ Ruby muttered. ‘Christ, me head aches …’ She clutched at her forehead and closed her eyes.
Pansy jumped up and found a milk bottle. She swung it to and fro to let her mother see there was a little bit sploshing about at the bottom.
Kathy wetted some lint under the tap and dabbed it on Ruby’s face, rinsing and repeating the process. She drew from her bag a clean piece of wadding.
‘Suppose you’re wondering what set him off this time,’ Ruby mumbled.
‘Your husband seems to think I know all about it. He thinks you confide in me.’ Kathy’s clear blue gaze drifted from the split cheek she was tending to Ruby’s brown eyes.
‘He’s jealous.’
‘Even so, he has no right to beat you unconscious.’
‘He’s got a right to be jealous, though,’ Ruby replied sheepishly.
‘I know he has,’ Kathy sighed. Gossip was going around the neighbourhood that Ruby Potter was a shameless baggage. In Kathy’s opinion, the woman was a fool not to have run off with the other fellow rather than stick with a brute like Charlie. But young and single as Kathy was, she realised life wasn’t that simple for the likes of Ruby: the woman’s boyfriend was quite likely to be married too, possibly with a brood of children and no money and no job. Charlie Potter was considered one of the lucky ones to be working at the docks, and Kathy had heard him loudly impressing that on Ruby on previous occasions when she’d visited.
But Kathy couldn’t condemn Ruby for wanting a man – any man – to show her some love and tenderness.
‘All the men round here would’ve done the same,’ Ruby volunteered in her queer voice, breaking into Kathy’s brooding. ‘Sal Turpin got a fractured skull off her old man when he caught her with a fancy man. Ended in hospital, she did, and her kids got took away.’ She raised her eyes and gave Kathy a meaningful look.
‘There’s no excuse for any of them to act like savages,’ Kathy replied. ‘What are you waiting for, the pair of you? Pine boxes to leave in?’
‘Where shall I go with no money and three kids?’ Ruby grunted an astonished laugh. ‘Got one under me feet, one at school and one in me belly.’ She shook her head. ‘Ain’t that easy, Nurse Finch, fer the likes of us. You take it from me, ’cos you’ll never know, will you? Nice clever gel like you’ll have a doctor or someone posh like that walking you up the aisle.’
Kathy felt a flush warm her cheeks. Ruby was being either sarcastic or diplomatic. She liked the woman, so gave her the benefit of the doubt and decided Ruby probably didn’t want to accuse her of being a copper’s nark to her face, as some folk did. It had soon got around in the district that Nurse Finch was walking out with a local constable. And nobody liked him: it was David Goldstein’s job rather than his character or his Jewish roots they took exception to. East End working-class people roundly despised the police.
‘Go on, just do it … start on me cheek, if you like,’ Ruby suggested gamely.
Kathy continued working as gently as she could on Ruby’s face, wiping blood and pressing together edges of skin. She knew the woman was trying not to flinch. She knew too that Pansy had come closer to watch her tending to her mother. When Kathy allowed her eyes to dart quickly to the child, she noticed Pansy’s eyes were bright with curiosity rather than fright.
‘Got that tea made, Pansy?’ her mother asked, grimacing against the pain in her face. ‘Can hear the kettle steaming.’
The girl trotted off and splashed hot water onto tea leaves. She put milk into chipped cups a drop at a time so as not to waste any, just the way she’d been told.
‘Don’t forget to give it a good stir, Pansy. And don’t spill none in the saucer fer the nurse.’ The curt warning made the child turn large eyes on the adults.
‘She’s always very quiet,’ Kathy remarked without looking away from her delicate work of patching up Ruby.
‘She natters sometimes,’ Ruby said, flinching at the sting in her lip.
Kathy had done what she could and started packing away her things.
‘She keeps shtoom when strangers are around.’ Ruby gingerly touched her face, feeling for the damage. ‘Then when Peter gets in from school he never stops, so poor Pansy don’t get a word in edgeways, even if she wants to.’
‘When is she going to school?’
‘No rush …’ Ruby said, sounding defiant.
Kathy guessed that Pansy was already of an age to attend school. She was small and slight from under nourishment – as were most of the local children – but Kathy suspected she was over five years old. She bent to smile into Pansy’s face. ‘Is that my tea?’ Kathy tipped her cap at a chipped cup and saucer with an unappetisingly weak brew in it.
Pansy nodded.
‘Thank you.’
The little girl’s response to unwanted attention was to shuffle towards her mother and press against her.
‘If you lie down, Mrs Potter, I’ll listen to the baby’s heart before I go and make sure there’s nothing amiss.’
‘Ain’t no need, Miss Finch; I can tell you the little blighter’s strong as an ox. Lays into me almost as hard as its father does …’ Her words faded away.
Ruby knew for sure, even if Nurse Finch did not, that Charlie Potter wasn’t this baby’s father. Charlie knew, of course, and that was what was making him nastier than usual. He could count months as well as she could and knew he’d been away courtesy of His Majesty when the baby was conceived. He’d been lucky to get back his old job at the docks following six months behind bars. Anyhow, her husband would know for certain when it was born; Ruby feared the child would look foreign, being as the man who’d knocked her up was Chinese.
‘You promise me you won’t say nuthin’ about this commotion?’ Ruby pleaded, eyes widening. ‘You won’t tell Dr Worth, will you? The authorities will poke into me business. Then what’ve I got left if I lose me kids?’
Kathy could see Ruby was close to crying. The woman had taken a beating off her husband without shedding a tear, yet might weep now but for having her vow of silence. Around here, the disgrace of interference from the hated authorities was deemed worse than being married to a brute. Kathy sighed agreement. ‘Now I’m here, I’ll just take a look at you and make sure everything’s all right with the baby,’ she insisted.
