‘Can you let me look inside your mouth? Please?’ He dropped his jaw obediently. She bent and peered inside. His skin was pale and almost dry, even his tongue. Now she knew at least one thing seriously wrong with him. Dehydration bad enough could kill, especially a child as slight as he was. Water might not be all he needed, but it might save him long enough for something further.
Maggie came back, running so quickly she almost tripped, but the glass she carried was full to the brim.
Hester smiled at her, and very gently lifted Charlie up again so he was cradled in her arms and his head was nearly upright. He opened his eyes, but it was Maggie he looked at. He smiled at her hazily, and then seemed to drift off again.
Hester put the glass to his lips. ‘Drink a little more, Charlie,’ she urged him. ‘Just a sip.’
For several moments he did not move, then as he tipped the glass very slightly he took a mouthful. He swallowed it and coughed. After a few seconds he took another.
Maggie was staring at Hester as if she were seeing a miracle. Hester ached with grief for her because this small act was almost certainly useless, but she could not bear to tell her so. Maggie’s eyes were bright and she was so intent on Charlie she was hardly remembering to breathe.
It took half an hour, but sip by sip, Charlie drank the whole glassful. Hester felt a sense of triumph as if she had climbed a mountain. She laid Charlie back in the bed and pulled the blanket up over him again. He lay still, as if the effort had exhausted him. Almost straight away he was asleep.
Maggie’s smile was so wide it must have hurt her cheeks. She was too full of emotion to speak. She knew it was only the beginning.
Hester stayed with them. Slowly she went around the rest of the ward, checking on each child. There were another six. They were tired and thin, yet still far better than Charlie. Even Mike, the younger brother, was lying quietly and did not do more than stir and turn over when she touched his brow and then his arm. He looked more like three than four, but she knew that poor or sick children were often small for their ages.
An hour later she woke Charlie and, sip by sip, gave him another glass of water. Maggie helped. She refused to go back to her own bed, even though she was swaying on her feet with exhaustion. She agreed to sit down beside Hester, then at last, somewhere near dawn, she crumpled up and slid on to her lap, sound asleep.
About an hour later Hester laid Maggie gently into her own bed, and then went back to her own ward to tell them where she was and why. She retraced her steps carefully to find the children’s ward again, but before going in she looked for the nurse who should have been on duty there.
She tried all the nearby storerooms and cupboards, rooms with sinks, taps, and places for laundry and rubbish, but there was no sign of her. Either she had not come in in the first place, or she had been and gone again almost straight away. Had she been ill, lazy, or on some emergency of her own? Or simply an assignation? It wouldn’t be unheard of.
Unhappy and a little worried, Hester went back to the children’s ward. She looked carefully at each of them, then, satisfied for the time being, she slept on and off for what was left of the night.
By morning Charlie was sitting up and definitely feeling better. His eyes were still hollow but his skin was less papery, and he could take a cup of water in his hands and drink it himself.
Maggie was elated. She refused to listen to Hester’s warning that this was only a temporary respite. She stared at Hester solemn-eyed and said that she understood, but her joy burned in her like a flame and Hester’s words meant nothing. Charlie was not dying now, and that was all that mattered. Even Mike, awake and standing beside Maggie, clinging on to her hand, believed her, and regarded Hester as if she were a bright angel.
Hester stopped her struggle with reality and let them enjoy the idea of hope, for however long it might last.
It was still very early. The sky was paling at last and she needed to return to the ward where she was on duty.
‘Let Charlie sleep,’ she told Maggie. ‘And keep on giving him water when he’ll take it, but don’t waken him specially. And don’t forget to drink yourself. If he’ll take breakfast, then help him, but don’t insist. And all the rest of you must eat as well. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, miss,’ Maggie said earnestly. ‘You’ll come back, won’t yer?’ Now there was fear back in her eyes again.
‘Of course,’ Hester promised, but wondered how she was going to keep to it. As soon as Dr Magnus arrived she must see him. That meant staying longer than she had meant to, but her own family would simply have to understand.
Nurse O’Neill met her the moment she was through the door of her own ward. She was an imposing woman, young and quite handsome in an individual way. Now she was angry and made no attempt to conceal it.
‘What on earth are you thinking of?’ she demanded, hands on her hips. Her fairish hair was coming out of its pins and she looked exhausted. Her sleeves were rolled up crookedly and there were stains of blood and spilled water over her white apron front. ‘There’s only been me and Mary Ann here! They don’t pay you to sneak off and find somewhere to go to sleep! I don’t care what you did all day; you’re meant to be here and on duty all night, just like the rest of us.’
Hester’s heart sank. She knew what was the matter with Sherryl O’Neill. She expected to lose patients – this was a ward of desperately ill men – but she still could not bear it. Each death was a defeat and she took it personally.
‘We lost Hodgkins,’ Hester said quietly, assuming the worst. ‘I’m sorry . . .’
‘No we didn’t!’ Sherryl blinked furiously but the tears ran down her cheeks anyway. ‘He’s still alive. God knows how. No thanks to you.’
Hester waited, confused.
‘Wilton,’ Sherryl filled in the silence. ‘He took a sudden turn for the worse and there was nothing I could do. You should have been here!’ Again the accusation was harsh.
Hester understood. Unexpected loss cut especially deep. It made you realise all over again how little control you had. Victory could turn to defeat in an instant. They had all felt certain that Wilton was recovering.
‘What happened?’ she asked, dreading the answer.
Sherryl’s voice was harsh, as if her throat were so tight she could barely force the words out.