The Orphans of Halfpenny Street. Cathy Sharp
Thirty-One
‘Mary Ellen, I need you,’ her mother’s voice called from the front door of their terraced house as she approached. ‘Hurry up, love …’
Mary Ellen sighed and walked faster. She’d been all the way to the busy market in the heart of Spitalfields and her basket was heavy with the items her mother had asked her to bring. There was a ham bone, which would be made into soup with some turnips, potatoes, pearl barley and carrots, all of which she’d bought from the market, because they were cheaper, and her arm ached from carrying them.
She hoped Ma wasn’t going to send her anywhere else until she’d had a drink of water, because it was hot and sticky and she was feeling tired after her long walk. She’d been up at six that morning to wash the kitchen floor and the sink, before going to school for a few hours. After returning home for lunch, Ma had sent her shopping because it was only sports and games in the afternoon, and Ma said she didn’t need to bother with them, though Mary Ellen knew her teacher would give her a black mark next time she attended school; but that might not be for a few days, because Ma had been coughing all night. Mary Ellen had seen spots of blood on her nightgown when she’d taken her a cup of tea before she left for school that morning.
‘I’m sorry, love,’ her ma said as she reached the door. ‘You’ll have to go back out for my medicine. I’ve got none for tonight and I can’t seem to stop this …’ She couldn’t finish her sentence because the coughing fit seized her and she sounded terrible. Her body bent double with the pain and her face went an awful pasty white. Mary Ellen could see bright red spots on the handkerchief that Ma held to her lips, and her heart caught with fear. ‘Mary Ellen …’
Ma gave a strange little cry and then sort of crumpled up in a heap at Mary Ellen’s feet. She bent over her, trying to make her open her eyes, but her mother wasn’t responding.
‘Don’t be ill, Ma,’ she said, tears welling up. She didn’t know what to do and she’d been living alone with her mother since her big sister Rose went off to train as a nurse. ‘Please … wake up, Ma …’
Mary Ellen was conscious of the slightly grubby lace curtains twitching at the neighbouring house, then the door opened and Mrs Prentice came out and looked at her for a moment before asking, ‘What’s up wiv yer ma, Mary Ellen?’
‘She’s not well,’ Mary Ellen said. ‘She told me to go for her medicine but then she just fell down.’
‘I expect she fainted,’ the neighbour said. ‘I reckon your ma has been proper poorly. Your Rose should be ashamed of herself. You not even nine yet and ‘er goin’ orf and leavin’ her to cope on her own … and you with no pa.’
‘Pa died before we moved here,’ Mary Ellen said defensively, because she knew some of her neighbours thought she’d never had a father. Her tears began to spring in her eyes once more. ‘Ma’s never been well since …’
‘We’d best get someone to go fer the doctor, and I’ll tell my husband to go round and fetch your Rose when he comes home …’ Mrs Prentice went into her house and shouted and a lad of about thirteen came out and stared at them. His trousers were too big and falling off him and his boots had holes in the toes, but he smiled at Mary Ellen.
‘What’s wrong, Ma?’
Mary Ellen’s mother was stirring. Mrs Prentice signalled to her son and between them they helped Ma to her feet. She stood swaying for a moment, seeming bewildered, and then straightened up.
‘I’ll be all right now,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Lil. It’s just the heat.’
‘Not from what I’ve seen,’ Mrs Prentice said. ‘Get orf and fetch the doctor to her, Rip, and then yer can cut orf down the Docks and tell yer father to fetch Rose O’Hanran back tonight.’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ Ma protested faintly. ‘Rose is busy; she hasn’t got time … and I can’t afford the doctor …’
‘Likely he won’t charge yer, as long as it’s all goin’ ter be free soon, that’s what the papers say anyway, though I’ll believe it when I bleedin’ see it,’ Mrs Prentice said. ‘Go on in, Mary Ellen, and make yer ma a cup of tea. I’ll bring her in and settle her down and then you can go and fetch that medicine.’
Mary Ellen nodded. The last thing she wanted was another walk to the High Street, but she had to go, because Ma needed it.
‘Ma, you’re ill.’ Rose’s voice was sharp and the sound of it sent a tingle down Mary Ellen’s spine as she sat on the bottom stair behind the half-opened door into the kitchen, listening to her mother and sister. She was supposed to be in bed. ‘You’ve got to see the doctor. You can’t go on like this – and you know I can’t come home and look after you. I’m taking my final exams next week and if I miss them I’ll have to do at least another term and perhaps an extra year.’
‘I don’t expect you to come home,’ Ma said, sounding weary and defeated to Mary Ellen’s ears. ‘I saw the doctor weeks ago, Rose. He did some tests and it seems I have consumption. According to Dr Marlow I’ll have to go to an isolation hospital in Norfolk,