Messenger of Truth by Jacqueline Winspear

Author:Jacqueline Winspear [Winspear, Jacqueline]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Henry Holt and Company
Published: 2006-06-28T04:00:00+00:00

MAISIE FOUND BILLY and Doreen Beale in the waiting room of the fever hospital. “What news of the children? And Lizzie?” She had hurried into the building and was unwrapping her scarf and removing her gloves as she spoke.

Billy had his arm around Doreen, comforting her. Their faces bore the signs of strain, the skin around their eyes lined and drawn. Billy shook his head. “We’ve been waiting all night again, what with one thing and another. The eldest is at ’ome, with Doreen’s sister, and right as ninepence, and the other nippers—our Bobby, and Jim and Ada’s two—are all doin’ all right. But Lizzie…it’s still touch and go, like I said before. And we was just about to go in to see the little lass again, and they turfed us out, said there was an emergency.”

Maisie nodded, then looked around for a nurse or doctor to speak to. “Have they told you what the emergency was?”

“The poor little mite is in trouble all over ’er body. I reckon they’ve shoved some more of that antiwhatsit into ’er.” Billy faltered. “And it’s not just ’er breathin’, no, it’s ’er ’eart, her kidneys, it’s everything. She’s fighting though, by God she’s fighting.”

“I’ll see if I can find out anything more for you.” Maisie placed a hand on Doreen Beale’s shoulder, nodded at Billy, and went in search of a nurse. She had barely reached the door when a doctor came into the waiting area.

“Are you Mrs. Beale?”

“No,” replied Maisie, “I am Mr. Beale’s employer, and I have come to see if I might be of assistance to them. I was a nurse, so I have an understanding of the situation, and I brought their daughter in.”

“Good, it’s quite troublesome talking to the parents at times, especially from the East End, you know—words of one syllable, if you know what I mean.”

Maisie glowered. “No, I don’t know what you mean. The parents are perfectly capable people, but they are distraught—and they depend upon your compassion and honesty, if I may say so. Now, perhaps you would be so kind as to give me the details, and I will talk to them.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…we’ve just had a lot of children brought in overnight. Half the time the poor souls haven’t had a good meal because the father can’t get work, and the whole situation isn’t getting any better. They haven’t the heart for the fight.”

Noting his waxen skin and the way he rubbed a hand across his forehead, Maisie softened her tone, which she realized had been rather too harsh, still bearing some residue from the earlier conversation with Stratton. She had seen such strain years ago, in France, though the frontline fight was against the weaponry of war, not diseases left to flourish amid decay and want. “How is Lizzie Beale?”

The doctor sighed. “I wish I had better news. How that child is still alive beggars belief. She clearly didn’t present early signs of diphtheria, and of course it progressed until it came down hard on the poor little wretch, like a wall of bricks.

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