30

Sunday 1 February 1953

‘Let’s go into the front room; the fire still has a few glowing embers and we can drink our cocoa in comfort,’ Maureen said the moment Ruby and George arrived home.

George led his mum to her armchair by the fire and placed a cup in her hands. ‘Drink it up, Mum, it’ll do you good,’ he said, before helping Maureen to fold up the rugs and blankets that the children had used for their camping adventure.

‘I’ll go up to bed,’ Maureen whispered to George. ‘See if your mum will talk. It will help her troubled mind,’ she said, kissing his cheek gently.

George could only nod his head as he watched his mum. Her body might be sitting in the armchair, but her mind was visiting past memories, thinking of the man she loved, lying in bed half a mile away at the cottage hospital. He picked up a stool and moved it next to Ruby, leaning on the arm of her chair as he had done as a young boy while she spoke of her family and people he never knew or had long forgotten.

‘We’ve not sat together like this for a while,’ he said. ‘Drink up before it gets cold.’

Without uttering a word, Ruby sipped the drink until it was gone.

‘That’s better,’ he spoke to her as if she was the child and he the parent. ‘Do you remember when we first moved here, and Stella lived over the road where Freda and Tony live now?’

A fleeting smile crossed Ruby’s face. ‘She was like a mother to me; I miss her.’

‘And Dad, when he would disappear for God knows how many years at a time.’

This time Ruby gave a faint laugh. ‘I fought to hang on to that man and he always came back, because we were meant to be together.’

‘And then Bob came along to take care of you,’ he said, trying to draw her out.

‘I loved him too, and now he’s going to leave me . . .’ she said as a sob shuddered through her body.

George’s heart was broken as he took his mum into his arms, rocking her back and forth until the tears subsided. ‘He’s still here with us, Mum.’

‘No, when people creep away to speak in hushed tones, it means the patient is at the end of their life. I’ve seen it before. Bob’s going to leave me,’ she said, turning to look him in the eye. ‘Tell me it’s not true.’

George had expected to break the news to his mum; he had not expected her to ask him if Bob was going to die. He sighed before taking her hand. ‘Mike told me this evening that Bob is very ill; but we could all see that. What we didn’t know was that he has been ill for a while now.’

‘That cough? I bought him all kinds of remedies from the chemist; he refused to take them or go to see the doctor.’

‘Well, he did go to see his doctor, but he didn’t want to worry you.’

‘I assume that whatever medicine he was given, Bob refused to take it. He can be a curmudgeonly old bugger at times.’

‘No, Mum, there isn’t any medicine. After tests, Bob was told he has a weak heart and should avoid over-strenuous work.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded, her voice getting louder.

‘I only knew this evening; I’m as shocked as you. Bob made Mike promise not to say anything. The poor man was relieved to be able to tell me.’

Ruby pushed Bob away from her and sat up straight in the armchair, the empty cup falling to the floor and breaking into a dozen pieces.

‘The silly old fool,’ she muttered angrily. ‘What’s the time?’

George had lost all sense of time, so he looked up at the black marble clock on the ornate wooden mantelpiece. ‘It’s just gone seven o’clock in the morning.’

‘Too early to go back to the hospital. They won’t like us trampling about the place while patients are trying to sleep. What time can we go back there?’

George was flummoxed, as he had no idea. With Bob being so poorly, he assumed it was what they called ‘open orders’ and that family could visit at any time. ‘I would think we can go there late morning, after the doctors have done their rounds.’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do. If Bob thinks he’s going to die without me speaking to him first, then he has another thing coming. Now get yourself to bed. I’ll be up as soon as I’ve locked up and put the dog out . . . By the way, where is that dratted dog?’

George laughed; his mother had never got on with Bob’s greyhound. ‘David Carlisle collected him. He’s being spoilt by their children until he can come home.’

Ruby shook her head and gave a sad sigh. ‘With the dog gone, it’s like Bob has gone as well – those two are joined at the hip.’

‘Four hours’ sleep is not good for anyone,’ George groaned as he joined Maureen in his mum’s living room. ‘I hope everyone else feels better than I do. I’m too old to be climbing on a roof in the dark. I tell you, when that boat came alongside us I was so glad to see them I could have hugged Mike Jackson, until I realized that I had to get from the roof to the boat without falling. And then it came to me that if I wasn’t able to do it, how would Bob manage?’

Maureen put a plate of eggs on toast in front of him, along with a cup of coffee. She sat down opposite, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘However did you manage to do it? With all that was going on earlier this morning, I didn’t hear the details.’

‘I held back and helped the two firemen who were in the boat with Mike to bring Bob down gently, while Mike used a hook to hold the boat steady to the side of the bungalow. The water was that high, it was just a case of passing Bob to the other policeman, who settled him in the boat. To be honest, I thought Bob was a gonna; it must have been a shock for Mike to see his dad like that.’

‘It doesn’t bear thinking about. I’ve been listening to the wireless; yes, it’s working again, as is the telephone. The flood’s a major disaster, by all accounts. The Sunday newspapers are full of it. I’ve left them in the front room in case Ruby doesn’t want to read about it.’

‘Read about what?’ Ruby asked as she joined them, wearing curlers in her hair and a candlewick dressing gown over her Winceyette nightdress.

‘You should have stayed in bed for a while longer. I was about to bring you a cup of tea.’

‘Maureen’s right, you need to rest.’

‘What I need is to get myself ready to visit my husband; that’s if he hasn’t passed away in the night. Have there been any messages, or are you keeping that from me as well?’

George flinched under the steely stare of his mum. ‘We were talking about the newspapers reporting on the flood. They’re in the front room if you want to see them?’

‘I’ve no time. I want to get to the hospital to see how Bob is and talk to the doctors. I take it they work on Sundays?’

‘They are at the hospital every day, Mum,’ George said, pushing his plate away.

‘Would you like me to sort out your hair?’ Maureen asked, looking at the haphazard way Ruby had pinned the metal curlers into her grey hair.

Ruby’s stern face visibly melted into a warm smile. ‘I’d be grateful, love. It came to me in the night that I’d better look my best. Bob doesn’t want to be feeling poorly, then see me looking a mess. It’s my duty to do the best I can with my appearance, so that he is proud of me; I’ll wear my best coat and hat as well.’

‘Then once I’ve sorted out your hair, I’ll give your coat a brush, in case that blooming dog’s hairs are on it. They seem to get everywhere.’

‘I find a damp cloth does the job,’ Ruby said, before looking at George. ‘Aren’t you going to eat that? It’s a shame to waste good food,’ she added, leaning over to take one of his slices of toast. ‘Perhaps I will have some breakfast; we’ve got to keep our strength up.’

Just then the telephone rang in the front room. They all looked at each other.

Maureen urged George to hurry. ‘Best get that, in case it’s the hospital,’

‘I can’t listen,’ Ruby said as she pushed the door to. ‘Let’s have that cup of tea.’

Maureen thought Ruby was putting on a brave face until she saw how much the older woman’s hands were shaking and put her arms around her to hold her close.

‘If I was a religious woman, I’d be on my knees right now,’ Ruby whispered, allowing Maureen to help her to one of the chairs set around the dining table.

Maureen closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer.

George entered the room with perspiration on his brow. ‘That gave me quite a scare.’

‘Was it the hospital? What did they say?’ Ruby asked.

‘It was David Carlisle. He said he’d bring his car down in the next half-hour and that I’ve got full use of it to take you to the hospital.’

‘That’s good of him,’ Maureen said. ‘We have some thoughtful friends.’

‘Where’s your car?’ Ruby asked.

‘The last time I saw it, it was under seven or eight feet of water outside Clemmie’s bungalow, alongside Freda’s.’

‘Sorry, lad, I should have asked how things were when I saw you last night, but there was so much going on. I didn’t even ask if you or the others were hurt. Were the little kiddies all right?’

‘How about I tell you while we drive to the hospital. It’s best we get ourselves ready. Are you coming with us, Maureen?’

‘I thought I’d stay here and man the telephone, as there are bound to be a lot of people enquiring after Bob and someone needs to let your sister Pat know.’

‘That’s a good idea. And Maisie sent a message to say she was cooking a roast dinner, but would plate it up and bring it down later, so we can eat when we are hungry.’

Ruby started to pull the curlers from her hair. ‘What a lovely girl she is, to think of us when she is so busy. Now let’s get cracking, as Bob will be watching the clock and wondering where we are.’

Maureen looked at George and raised her eyebrows. If only Bob was awake and talking . . .

‘Ruby, Ruby. Wait a minute!’

Ruby groaned as she looked up the road. ‘Maureen, can you do something, love? I can’t face talking to Vera.’

‘Don’t you worry. Get into the car right now and I’ll cut her off at the pass.’

George gave Maureen a quick kiss on the cheek before jumping into the car.

‘Hello, Vera, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you?’ Maureen smiled sweetly as Vera reached the gate of number thirteen just as George drove off.

‘I wanted a word with Ruby about . . . well, about some private business. When will she be back? Isn’t that David Carlisle’s car? Can I wait?’

‘I’m sorry, Vera, that’s the telephone ringing; I must go,’ Maureen said, rushing into the house and closing the door behind her before Vera could follow. Thank goodness for that, she thought to herself as she grabbed the receiver, before fear clutched at her heart. Was it the hospital? ‘Erith four-five-five. Oh, hello, Alan love, thank goodness it’s you. No, nothing is wrong. I was worried you were the hospital. I’m here on my own, as George has taken Ruby . . . They left just now. I will let you know as soon as I hear anything. Bye-bye, love.’

Maureen replaced the receiver and the telephone rang again. This was how her Sunday continued.

If Ruby had expected to see Bob sitting up in bed, she was to be disappointed. When they entered the side room, the curtains were drawn and Bob lay still, with his eyes closed.

‘I thought there’d have been a bit more colour in his face today. He’s still as white as a ghost and looks half dead,’ she said, stepping closer to the bed.

His eyes fluttered for a moment before opening. ‘It’ll take more than a flood to carry me off,’ he said, attempting to laugh, until a fit of coughing had him gasping for breath.

‘You silly bugger, you had me thinking you were at death’s door,’ she scolded him.

‘Mum, the doctor’s here,’ George said, looking embarrassed as a portly gentleman in a tweed three-piece suit walked in, followed by a clutch of younger doctors wearing white coats and looking flustered.

‘This is Mr Robert Jackson, sir. He was brought in during the night, a victim of the floods,’ one of the men in white coats explained. ‘He has a rather nasty cough and his medical records show there is a problem with his heart.’

Ruby frowned and glared at Bob. As ill as he was, she would be having this out with him. How dare he keep a secret like that! ‘I would like an explanation, please. I can’t rely on my husband telling me.’

‘Perhaps if you come to my office we can talk quietly. I don’t wish to upset the patient. Let us say in one hour? The sister will show you the way,’ the doctor said, before continuing his ward round.

Ruby sank into a chair close to his bed.

‘I didn’t want to bother you, love,’ Bob told her. ‘Those medicines you kept getting me weren’t clearing this cough; it got to the point where I was trying not to cough in front of you as you’d worry, so I went to see the doctor.’

‘Which doctor?’

‘Old Dr Baxter.’

‘And he told you your heart is failing you?’

‘Yes. I only told Mike as I wanted to get my affairs in order and not worry you until closer to the end.’

‘Oh, Bob,’ Ruby said, bursting into tears.

George slipped out of the room and hurried to a public telephone box in the hallway. Dialling a local number, he waited for it to be answered. ‘Mike? It’s George, are you able to get up to the hospital? No, he’s not worse, but something is worrying me about Bob’s diagnosis. Thanks, I’ll wait at the front of the hospital. I don’t want to worry Mum for now.’

George paced up and down, deep in thought. The hospital was emptier than the night before, when many people affected by the floods were waiting to be attended to. The cottage hospital might be small, but it served the inhabitants of Erith well. When he spotted Mike’s car, he hurried over to greet him.

‘Let’s get inside, out of the cold,’ George said as they walked briskly to an empty waiting room, closing the door behind them. ‘What has Bob told you about his heart problem?’

‘Very little. He swore me to secrecy, then wouldn’t discuss it. I made a point of trying to take on his work up at the allotment and drove him around as much as possible, so that he wasn’t walking and exerting himself. To be honest, he seemed a lot better in recent weeks. I suppose getting cold and wet set it off again. I’ve been at my wits’ end worrying about his health. When I heard he was trapped by the rising floodwater, I thought it was the end and I’d not see him alive again.’

‘Do you happen to know who diagnosed his condition?’

Mike shrugged. ‘I assumed he saw young Dr Baxter.’

‘He’s just said it was his father: the old Dr Baxter who has retired.’

Mike frowned. ‘Does it make any difference? After all, a doctor is a doctor.’

‘I want to tell you something in the strictest of confidence. I’m talking now to Mike Jackson, son of Bob Jackson. I’m not talking to Sergeant Mike Jackson, do you understand?’

Mike thought for a moment. ‘I only have one father and I must remain loyal to him, unless he has broken the law, that is. Whatever you tell me, it will remain between the two of us.’

‘And young Dr Baxter?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I have evidence that Dr Baxter senior has misdiagnosed quite a few patients, hence his early retirement. For some reason, Bob saw Dr Baxter senior that day.’

Mike frowned. ‘I’m not quite sure what you are saying . . .’

George got to his feet and walked up to the window and stared out for a minute or two. ‘In my position as a town councillor, I’ve seen a few people with similar problems. I took their cases to the son, and he examined them carefully. Sadly, it was found that his father had misdiagnosed ten of their patients. It was then agreed that Dr Baxter senior would retire immediately. I’m ashamed to say that I agreed it would go no further, and now Bob is a victim of the man’s incompetence,’ George said, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.

Mike patted his back. ‘It’s not your fault, but what a mess. To think Dad’s been carrying this burden all these months. What can we do?’

‘One of us needs to see Dr Baxter junior as soon as possible, and one of us must accompany Ruby to see the doctor here.’

Mike agreed. ‘You should go and see Dr Baxter junior right now. He knows you as a councillor, and associates you with the problems of other townspeople. It would be ideal if he would look at Dad’s records and tell us if he was misdiagnosed. I can stay with Ruby and, if you aren’t back by the time of the appointment here, I’ll go in with her.’

‘I’ll head off this minute. Can you tell Mum I’ve been called to an important meeting to do with the flood situation? It’s not far from the truth.’

‘Will do. Good luck, and let’s hope you get to the bottom of this soon.’