Annie Groves - The District Nurses of Victory Walk

‘Gas-mask factory?’ Edith sat up in her hard-backed chair.

‘Yes, it’s not far from here. Used to be a furniture factory but now it turns out all those ghastly masks in case there’s a war. Which there won’t be,’ Mary said confidently, draining her cup.

Alice looked up. ‘Are you sure? There are lots of people who’d disagree with you.’

Mary nodded. ‘Oh, of course. Mr Chamberlain wouldn’t declare war, that’s tosh. He’ll keep us safe, there’s no question of it.’

Alice swallowed slowly. She wondered how her new colleague could be so definite in her views when all around quiet preparations were going ahead in case the worst came to the worst. This very morning they had seen many kerbstones painted white to stand out if the city was in blackout, and from the top deck of the bus they had glimpsed skylights painted black to hide any lights beneath them. ‘So why are they making gas masks?’ she asked.

‘It’s just a precaution,’ Mary said breezily. ‘I expect they’ll go back to making toys or whatever those factories did until recently. Give them a few months and all the panic will be over. I’m not going around wearing a gas mask, I can tell you that right now. It’s bad enough trying to keep my hair in order as it is.’

‘Yes, they aren’t really designed with fashion in mind,’ said Edith, trying to make light of it while keeping an eye on Alice. She knew her friend followed public events with keen scrutiny, and had little patience with people who buried their heads in the sand. Would Alice start an argument now? Normally she was the most level-headed person around, but she had been known to grow hot under the collar about world affairs.

Alice held her tongue, but Edith could see it was an effort. ‘Well, all I can say is there are lots of Canadian and American servicemen in town, so I shan’t complain.’ She smiled at the memory of the last time she’d been out dancing.

‘Edith, you are dreadful,’ said Alice, but without malice. ‘Mary, pay no attention to her.’

‘Oh no, I completely agree,’ Mary said. ‘They’re so smart, aren’t they? And I do like their uniforms. Especially the Canadians. They’re so straightforward; you haven’t got to go through the usual palaver about who their families are or if they’ve gone to school with your brothers.’

Edith nodded dubiously. She didn’t usually have to worry about that sort of thing, especially as all her brothers had done their best to avoid school whenever possible. ‘Lots of them are good dancers,’ she said.

‘Aren’t they just? And they aren’t shy to ask you onto the dance floor,’ Mary said with growing enthusiasm. ‘We’ll have to put them to the test the next time our shifts allow. We’ll have such fun. Long may they stay over here.’

There was a sound from the door, a gruff cough, and an older woman appeared in a highly starched nurse’s uniform.

‘That’s enough of such frivolous talk, Nurse Perkins,’ she said, her expression lined with severity, her cardigan buttoned tightly all the way up to her throat. ‘You might think war is just an excuse for dancing with young men, but I can tell you right now it is no laughing matter. Besides, you owe it to your training to put your profession first and not to lower our standards. Kindly bear that in mind.’ She let her gaze rest on each of them in turn before abruptly swirling around, leaving them open-mouthed.

‘Who was that?’ asked Edith after a moment.

Mary pulled a face. ‘Gwen. You heard her earlier. She’s been here for ever, and is as old as the hills. Well, as you saw. She disapproves of everybody and everything and her pet hate is anyone enjoying themselves. As she’s Fiona’s deputy, she’s always telling us off for something. Bet she hasn’t been out dancing for years. Well, that’s not my fault.’

Edith grimaced. ‘That’s too bad, but I can tell you right now, I think we deserve a bit of fun in our time off. Don’t get me wrong, I love being a nurse and I work hard, but everyone is entitled to a spot of recreation now and again. Isn’t that true, Alice?’

Alice paused. She’d caught a look in the older woman’s eye that made her wonder why she was so sharp, so judgemental. Still, it couldn’t be much fun watching young nurses arrive, full of life and energy, if you were older and more set in your ways.

‘You go on out and enjoy yourselves,’ she said. ‘I’m no good at dancing. I’d rather stay in with a good book, if you want the truth.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that can’t be so!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘Look at you, you’ll be bombarded with offers to dance. We’ll have to take your rejected suitors.’

Alice smiled gamely but her heart wasn’t in it. She had no intention of going dancing, with Mary or anyone else. She used to do it with a light heart but that was before. She was no longer that carefree young nursing student. Life had seen to that.

As soon as Mattie and Kathleen opened the door the steam hit them. Delicious wafts were coming from the kitchen and they could hear Mattie’s mother singing at full volume, unaware that anyone had come in. ‘My old man said follow the van,’ she sang, slightly off-key.

Mattie grinned. ‘Come on through, then we can put Brian down with Gillian.’ She led the way down the short corridor to the big kitchen, three times the size of Kathleen’s, where little Gillian was tucked into a cot in the corner and her grandmother stood at the range, her sleeves rolled up and her face red with the heat from cooking.

‘Kathleen Berry! And there was me thinking you’d got a better offer.’ The older woman put down her big wooden spoon and strode across to greet her guest. ‘You need feeding up by the looks of you. And how’s the boy?’ She peered at the little bundle in Kathleen’s arms. ‘Has your Auntie Mattie brought you round for your tea? He’s a proper little darling, just look at him.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Banham,’ said Kathleen, who still found Mattie’s mother overwhelming even though she’d known her for years. ‘It’s kind of you to have us.’

‘Nonsense, what else am I going to do with all this stew? It would be a crying shame for it to go to waste,’ Flo Banham insisted, returning to her bubbling pot.

‘I’m sure Joe and Harry could finish it off,’ Kathleen said, knowing that Mattie’s brothers had hollow legs, particularly when it came to their mother’s cooking. She carefully tucked Brian into the opposite end of the big cot, which had held generations of Banham children, and had plenty of room for two small babies.

Flo Banham tutted. ‘There will be plenty to go round. I went down Ridley Road and the butcher let me have this cheap as he was expecting a new delivery. Practically begged me to take it off him, he did.’ She gave the stew one more vigorous stir and then put on the lid. ‘There, we’ll let that simmer away for a while and then it’ll be ready by the time the boys get back.’

Mattie grinned. Her brothers hadn’t been boys for a long time but their mother always called them that, as if they still needed cosseting and looking after. She used to think that was funny but now that she had Gillian, she understood it better. She couldn’t imagine ever not wanting to take care of her. She looked over the side of the cot at the little girl, fast asleep, her soft baby hair spread out on the little pillow. ‘Has she been good?’ she asked her mother.

‘She’s been a little angel for her granny,’ said Flo, coming to join her daughter to gaze down at the youngest member of the family. ‘She’s far quieter than you ever were, Mattie. You used to burst into tears every time I put you into your cot. I had to tie you in a sling so I could carry you round while I did my housework.’