Christmas for the Halfpenny Orphans

‘I’m not sure, but I think from the position of the pain it may be appendicitis,’ she said, looking anxiously at Sister. ‘How long have you been having these pains, Sister?’

‘A few weeks,’ Sister said weakly. ‘It wasn’t so bad at first and it always went after a while but now … it’s getting much worse.’

‘We’ve sent for the doctor,’ Michelle said, ‘but if it is acute appendicitis you will need an operation.’

‘I shall be all right, I tell you. All this fuss …’ Sister gasped and could not continue for a moment. ‘I can’t leave St Saviour’s. Who will look after things here?’

‘Angela and the nurses and the carers,’ Michelle answered before Angela could speak. ‘We shall take care of things while you’re away, Sister – but you have no choice. If I’m right and it bursts – you could die.’

Sister Beatrice looked at her. The truth was in her eyes, for she knew it as well as her staff nurse. If the inflamed appendix ruptured she could be in very serious trouble. She turned her head suddenly to be violently sick on the floor. Angela rushed to give her a handkerchief and offered a glass of water, which she accepted, looking sheepish.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Please don’t worry. I will soon clear it up. Michelle, do you think she would be more comfortable in the sick bay?’

‘No, I don’t want anyone else to see me this way – the children mustn’t be upset,’ Sister said, a note of authority in her voice. ‘I must get home and rest. I shall be all right in a while …’ Yet even as she spoke, she clutched at her right side again.

‘The doctor will be here shortly and you’re not going anywhere but hospital,’ Michelle insisted. ‘Angela, could you go down and ask one of the girls to come up and clear this up? I should like a couple of minutes alone with Sister.’

‘Very well; I’ll get a cloth and bucket. No need to let anyone else know about this,’ Angela said and went out.

She had reached the bottom of the stairs when Dr Kent rushed in, looking anxious. Stopping to explain what had happened, Angela directed him back to her office and then went off again in search of warm water and a mop. By the time she returned to her office, Dr Kent was very much in charge of the situation. He had opened his bag and was giving Sister an injection.

‘This is a mild sedative to ease the pain,’ he told her. ‘I’ve rung for an ambulance and it will be here shortly. I shall telephone the hospital and let them know to prepare for an emergency operation. Acute appendicitis is very serious, Sister. You must know what could happen if there should be a rupture – I’m surprised you didn’t seek medical advice before this.’

‘I could not neglect my duty. Besides, it suddenly became much worse.’

‘Yes, that is what happens if you neglect the warnings. It can come on very suddenly in its severest form.’

‘You must see I cannot desert the children …’

‘Nonsense! No one is irreplaceable,’ he said firmly and Angela saw Sister’s face twist as if he had added fuel to the flames. ‘Your staff will manage perfectly well until you can take up your place here again – something you won’t do if you’re dead. No more arguments. I believe we may be in time to prevent the worst happening, thanks to the prompt actions of your assistant.’

Sister nodded but didn’t answer. She was looking at Angela, an unspoken appeal in her eyes.

‘We shall manage until you return,’ Angela promised. ‘I will visit as soon as you’re well enough – and you can give me your instructions then.’

They both knew she did not need Sister’s instructions, but it was all she could think of to comfort her. Although they did not always see eye to eye where the running of the home was concerned, Angela respected Sister Beatrice’s devotion to the children.

‘The children will be all right,’ Michelle said as she helped Dr Kent assist Sister to her feet. ‘We’ll take you down in the lift and they won’t see you – and the ambulance will be here soon.’

‘Yes …’ Sister had ceased to resist. She was clearly close to collapse and went with them, but at the door, she paused and looked back. ‘The twins – take the greatest care of them, Angela. I’m not sure about this aunt of theirs and someone told me—’ she broke off with another gasp of pain, unable to finish what she’d been about to say.

‘Yes, Sister Beatrice. I’ll take care of them,’ Angela promised. ‘Please, don’t worry. We’ll do our best for all the children while you’re away. You must rest and get better soon and come back to us.’

Sister Beatrice was led away and after Angela had cleaned up the vomit from the floor, she headed to the kitchen knowing that she needed to let everyone know what had happened.

‘Was that an ambulance I heard outside?’ Muriel asked anxiously when she took the bucket back to the scullery area. ‘Who’s ill?’

‘I’m afraid it’s Sister Beatrice,’ Angela told her, and saw the shock in her face. She turned pale and sat down, staring as if she’d seen a ghost. ‘I know I can trust you to keep this to yourself, Muriel. The doctor thinks she has acute appendicitis and will need an emergency operation.’

‘God have mercy! My niece’s youngest daughter had that – it burst and she died. They couldn’t do nothin’ for her – pray God, Sister don’t go the same. Whatever shall we do without her?’

‘We shall have to manage as best we can until she comes back,’ Angela said calmly. ‘We have good nurses in Michelle and Wendy, and Paula too. I’m sure we shall manage.’

‘But Sister is always here,’ Muriel said. ‘We all turn to her when we need her. Does Nan know? She’ll be dreadfully upset. She’s very fond of Sister – as am I.’

‘Yes, I’m sure everyone is,’ Angela said. ‘But if we all continue to do our jobs as normal we shall manage. Hopefully it won’t be for too long.’ Angela believed this, though she knew there would be no time for any extras, like the party to celebrate the opening of the new wing; that would have to be cancelled now.

‘It might be for the best,’ Cook said dolefully, dabbing at her eyes with her white apron that was smeared with some kind of sauce. ‘I don’t like the sound of it, though – emergency operation isn’t good, Angela. It isn’t good at all …’

‘No, it’s very upsetting,’ Angela said. ‘But I assure you, I can manage the office work as usual and the nurses will all do their duty.’

‘But Sister tells me what to cook for the children – some of them have special diets and she’s always the one that works out what’s right for them. I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure I can manage without her guidance …’

‘I will consult with Michelle or Wendy and tell you what’s needed.’ Angela sighed inwardly. Sister Beatrice had no doubt been a tower of strength, but there was no reason things should collapse because she’d been taken ill. ‘I dare say Sister has a record of things like that in her office.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Cook said. ‘But it won’t be the same. We discuss all the menus over a cup of tea and a slice of my best fatless sponge and … oh well, I suppose we’ll manage somehow.’ She sighed heavily. ‘But if anything should happen …’

Angela suppressed a feeling of irritation. She’d thought Muriel was her friend, but it seemed that old loyalties were the strongest. She would simply have to show them all that she was perfectly capable of managing at St Saviour’s without Sister’s help.

‘We must pray Sister returns to us soon,’ she said. ‘I’d better go and find Nan – she’ll be terribly upset if she learns of Sister’s illness from somewhere else …’

‘I knew something was wrong with her,’ Nan said after Angela had persuaded her to sit down and have a cup of tea with her in the staff room. ‘I sensed it and she looked so tired – but I thought that she might not have been sleeping because of what happened with Terry. She still blames herself, even now …’

‘Sister has been tired and anxious of late,’ agreed Angela. ‘I suspect she’s been suffering nagging pains for a while but carried on working regardless when she ought to have gone to the doctor.’

‘Beatrice is like that,’ Nan said. ‘She holds things inside, won’t give in to whatever is upsetting her. She went through a terrible time as a young woman, before she joined the nuns, and I imagine she got used to hiding pain. I didn’t know her back then, but she’s told me a few things over the years … I do know she was married for a time, and I believe there was a child, but I can’t say more than that.’

Angela didn’t press her for details, even though the news that Sister had been married came as a considerable surprise. Occasionally she had wondered what Sister’s life had been like before she became a nun, but it had never occurred to her that Beatrice might have been married. Though she told herself it was none of her business what terrible sorrow had driven Beatrice to give up all worldly things and enter a convent, she couldn’t help wishing she knew more – perhaps if she understood more of why Sister was so passionate about her work at St Saviour’s and why she felt that Angela was trying to undermine her role when all she wanted was to help, then she would know how to reassure her that was not the case.

‘Let’s hope that holding back won’t have cost her her life,’ Angela said.

‘I don’t know what we would do without her,’ Nan said in a mournful tone. ‘I know you do a lot of the office work now, Angela, but … everyone respects Sister Beatrice: the nurses and carers, children – and the locals too. So many people stop her when she goes out, asking for her help. And every month she goes into the slums to visit families and check their health and give advice, making sure mothers know how to sterilise the babies’ bottles – lots of small but significant things like that.’