THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3... Part 28.

A continuation of my book.

Beth put a hand to the girl’s stomach, remembering her own pain when she had found herself to be pregnant.
“Has you the sick mornings, Nettie?”
“Sick? No, I aint got any sick feelings, only the pain here.” answered Nettie, once again pointing at her stomach.
“What have you eaten today, Nettie? Sometimes the food is bad and will give pain.”
Nettie did not answer, instead she pulled the blanket up over her face and moaned.
“Has you been eating things not well grown?” asked Beth suspiciously, at the same time pulling the blanket down from the girl’s face.
“I has an apple as Sarah gives me one time.” came the reply.
“Where did Sarah come by the apple?” queried Beth, her suspicion growing stronger.
“I aint in a mind to tell you. Sarah bids me to stay quiet.”
“That apple came from the garden store, didn’t it? Sarah stole apples which are used by the cook to make pies?” accused Beth, now sure.
Nettie pulled the blanket back up over her head and began to cry.
“I aint to saying. I aint said, Beth.” she sobbed.
Beth pulled the blanket down from the girl’s head once more and smiled.
“I shall not be telling on you, Nettie. But I am warning you not to eat any more of those apples.” warned Beth. “Your pain is God’s way of telling you that you are to be punished for eating stolen property and it’s best now that you pray to the Lord for forgiveness and then your pain will leave you.”
Beth smiled as she left Nettie praying earnestly in the dormitory and now made her way down the stairs in order to find Sarah. Beth was determined to stop Sarah from stealing the cooking apples from the store and did so when the girls had finished their work. Beth had caught Sarah on her own and given her a stern warning.

 

It was two weeks later and the night was warm when Beth suddenly woke up feeling the sweat bead her brow and chest. She sat up, coughing loudly, to hold her hand over her mouth as she tried not to wake the other girls in the dormitory. Laying back down, she pulled the blanket away from her body and felt cooler. She closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.
It was five o’clock in the morning when Beth suddenly woke again, feeling very hot and was sick over the side of the bed. She groaned then coughed, her throat feeling as if it was on fire. Sliding her feet over the side of the bed Beth rose, standing upright and then fell to the floor. The noise of her fall woke up the rest of the girls and they began to run, some to Beth’s side and looking down at her while the rest ran out onto the landing, shouting and calling for help.
It was Sister Estelle who came running from her early morning prayers and the first to be at Beth’s side, shooing the girls away as she lifted Beth back onto the bed before sending little Herriot to quickly find and fetch Sister Dominique.

“I’m afraid she has contacted diphtheria.” said the Doctor. “We have to remove her from here into a separate room in the infirmary. She needs isolation. Call the porters to bring a stretcher. And I want this bed and mattress removed right now!” added the Doctor.
Beth lay in the bed, covered in sweat and feeling her chest tighten till she felt she could not breathe. Her throat became parched and yet hurt when she swallowed the sips of water which Sister Dominique offered. She shivered, going into spells of not knowing where she was and then times of full awareness before dipping into the thankful dark wells of unconsciousness. There were times when she was aware of Sister Joy and Sister Francis kneeling by her bed, the words of prayers not making sense. In those times of knowing, Beth prepared herself for death. She was not afraid to die, wanting to be with her mother and father and her child. She saw pictures of them all, laughing and calling to her and of herself reaching out to them, all the time the voices merging in with the pictures.

“There’s nothing I can do for her. We can only hope that her youth and strength of will might see her through, though I doubt she will last the next day or so.” said the Doctor.
“Then all we can do now is pray for her and pray that God will hear our prayers and answer them.” said Sister Dominique, joining the other Sisters in prayer.
Sister Joy prayed fervently, feeling Beth’s illness to be her fault for allowing Beth’s impetuous behaviour at the dying man’s bedside to be the whole cause of the situation.

For the next two weeks, Beth hung between life and death with the lesions breaking out on her body, then seeming to heal before bursting out again in renewed energy.
“We should administer the last rites.” said Sister Joy, trying hard not to allow her emotions to show.
“We must not be hasty, Sister Joy.” admonished Sister Dominique quickly. “Beth’s strong-willed and a healthy child. Let’s not give up on her.”
“That’s all we can give her, God’s help through the power of our prayers.” added Sister Francis.

Day upon day the Nuns came into the room and prayed for the Lord’s help and each day Beth fought the illness and each day the pictures of her parents and the child seemed to grow more distant.
“I do believe Beth is getting better.” said Sister Joy. “She squeezed my hand when I spoke to her and smiled. Her fever has abated and the lesions are healing.”
“It is a miracle.” said Sister Francis, crossing herself and putting palms together.
“Call the Doctor and see what he says.” ordered Sister Dominique when the news was reported to her.

The Doctor ushered the Nuns out of the room and busied himself with an examination. It was true, Beth seemed to be coherent and had lost the blue-white of her face while the swelling to her throat had lessened.
“I do believe your prayers have been heard by God and he has worked a miracle for you all and for Beth.” he said, coming out of the room to meet the waiting Nuns who waited impatiently outside the door.
“But we cannot keep her here. We have to move her to an outside hospital where she can get further treatment. We also need to get the room thoroughly cleaned.” he added.
“Move her away?” asked Sister Dominique, horrified that their miracle child should be taken away from them.
This was also given to the voices which were raised in protest by the other Nuns.
“We can continue to look after her. She can stay in my room.” suggested Sister Joy. “I can have a bed made up for her and continue to pray that her recovery is speeded up.”
The Doctor shook his head.
“I’m afraid we cannot keep her here. We have done all we can and now she must be moved to St. Leonard’s for further treatment. It is not far from here and you may all visit her if the hospital grants it.” said the Doctor, his words final.
“But the hospitals are no more than mental institutions!” cried Sister Francis, looking at Sister Dominique in dismay.
“I do believe the hospitals have had legislation on them and laws have been passed some ten years ago and they certainly are better now although there are some hospitals who still have people with mental problems.” replied the Doctor. “But I will see to it that Beth gets the best care at the hospital.”

 

On the Friday morning a horse-drawn ambulance was drawn up inside the convent walls and Beth, awake and cheerful, was carried out from the infirmary on a stretcher, followed by a group of Nuns who had come to see her off.
“I’ll come and see you, Beth!” cried Sister Joy.
“So will we.” added both Sister Francis and Sister Dominique.
Beth gave a weak wave of her hand before she was put into the back of the ambulance and then with a crack of the whip the carriage took its leave, moving out and beyond the gate and clattering over cobbles as it made its way up to Hackney, to the hospital where Beth would be taken and placed into isolation. By isolation is meant that Beth was placed in a small iron bed at the far end of a ward, with thin cotton curtains which cut her off from the rest of the ward. Specific instructions were given to the nurse to keep other patients away from the partition plus a board with a red cross on it was stood just outside the curtain. However the sign plus the instructions given to the nurses were both totally ignored by the patients who took it in turns go lift the curtains and peer curiously at Beth who pulled the sheets up over her head each time a face popped up from beneath the curtains.

“Does you think I should be pulling the curtains back? It’s less to a darkness you has it.” asked the young woman who had popped her head round.
She was wearing a hospital smock of dark blue and almost bald, her face long and hawkish though her eyes were a most startling blue.
“Are you the nurse, then?” queried Beth, drawing the sheet down and looking curiously at the woman.
“Gawd sakes no,” laughed the woman. “Me name’s Fanny Goose.
“Fanny Goose?” asked Beth.
“Well, it aint Fanny Goose. I just says that for the larking. No, me name’s just plain Fanny. But it’s in keeping with me father who had some gooses, so he gives me the name. Just call me Fanny if you be so kind.”
Fanny had an infectious laugh which caused Beth to join her.
“So, what’s it to be? Does you want to stay in the dark or shall I be drawing the blinding away?” laughed Fanny.
“My name’s Beth. And I aint in caring for the dark and if you give them curtains a draw I’ll see it as a comfort.” replied Beth, resorting to the street-speech of the slums.
Fanny immediately drew back the curtain and Beth lifted her head to see that the ward consisted of twelve beds along with some cots down at the door end. The patients, in all manner of circumstance and all manner of ages from babies who crawled around the bare floorboards, to old men and women who simply lay on the beds and stared up at the ceiling with lost minds. A tired old woman in a green smock tiredly wiped at an elderly woman’s face. She seemed to be the only member of staff in the ward.
“I was taken to a place once which was very much like this.” remarked Beth, referring to her spell in the mental wing.
“Well, it aint in bad state to some places as I’ve been in.” replied Fanny.
“Me too, I’ve certainly been in worse.” affirmed Beth.
Fanny looked closely at Beth, startled that Beth could speak one moment like a slum-girl and yet speak in a different tone the next.
“You aint in living from round here, eh Beth?"
“Well, I’ve lived in the East-End for quite a while now, Fanny. Enough to grasp the street speech.” answered Beth with a smile.
“It’s quite a handsome way of speaking you has.” said Fanny before turning to shoo away a young boy who tried to take the blankets from the bed.
“Go away!” she shouted. “Them brats is into all sorts of larkings and wild!”
“Where are the nurses and the Doctor’s? Who is supposed to be looking after these people?”
“Is you in jest, Beth? We are all in looking after each other. It’s the madness as is leading the mad! Most of these people is here because it’s better than living out on the streets.”
Beth rose to sit on the edge of the bed and shook her head. This was not the quality of help she had expected. The noise from the children and the cries from those who simply cried for help added to the mayhem.
“I’m not staying here.” determined Beth and stood up.
The sudden stand had Beth feeling quite dizzy so that she fell back on the bed.
“You aint in fit to stand up yet!” exclaimed Fanny. “It’s best you lay back again. Wait till you is better.”
Beth lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, the dizziness making her head spin.