In the several days since Ethel had received Ada's letter, she had read and re-read it until she knew sections of it off by heart. It pained her to hear of her friend so torn, so lonely. But what was the alternative? She knew, as she thought Ada probably did too, that this was the best life Ada could have hoped for for her and the baby at this point in time. But, glancing at her copy of Grey's Anatomy, she knew full well that the best that was on offer was not always enough.
Putting down the letter, Ethel pulled on her shoes, and slipped out of the nurses' home. She climbed the stairs to Matron's office and knocked firmly on the door.
"Come in," Miss Luckes called, "ah, Nurse Bennett," she added as Ethel slid into the office, "is all well? Please take a seat."
Ethel sat opposite Matron, took a deep breath and said, "I've received a letter from Ada Russell."
"As have I," Miss Luckes replied, "she seems to be doing well at Burbridge Hall."
Ethel tried to hide the fact that she knew otherwise, though knew she had probably failed by the very slight twitch of Matron's eyebrow.
"I am due some leave," Ethel continued, "I wondered if, with Lady Burbridge's permission of course, I go to visit Ada for a week or so, before her confinement? She is well into her seventh month now and it will soon be a while before she is able to receive visitors. I miss her greatly," she added.
"As do I," Matron admitted, "I'd rather hoped that the letter she sent me would have contained more details than it does." Matron looked Ethel square in the eye for a moment, attempting to glean more information from her reaction. Ethel remained poker-faced.
"May I have your permission to write to Lady Burbridge, and to take some leave, assuming permission is granted?"
"You may, of course," Miss Luckes replied.
"Thank you Matron," Ethel chirped, getting to her feet.
"Wait a moment," Matron called.
Ethel's progress towards the office door was immediately halted. Miss Luckes crossed the room and opened a tall mahogany cabinet. From inside, she pulled out a large, lumpy package, wrapped in paper and tied up with string.
"Will you take this to Ada?" Miss Luckes asked, "I was going to post it nearer the time, but since you'll be visiting."
"Of course Miss Luckes," Ethel replied, taking the parcel gently in her hands. Despite its size, it was soft and light in weight.
"Don't write to Lady Burbridge," Miss Luckes continued, "go now to Mr Holland, and ask him to telephone personally. Once dates have been set, take a fortnight's leave, and spend it how you will. Your brother's anniversary must be coming up soon?" Ethel nodded, stunned into silence by Miss Luckes' power of recollection. "You never took time to grieve, I owe you the right to some time to remember your brother, and to care for your best friend."
"I will Matron, thank you."
Miss Luckes smiled, and placed a hand on Ethel's shoulder. Their gazes met for a moment. Miss Luckes patted Ethel and said,
"Carry on, Nurse Bennett."
Ethel left Matron's office and immediately skipped down the corridor to Mr Holland's office. On entering, she explained what Miss Luckes had said to her.
"Yes, of course I will arrange something for you. I'd been wondering how Miss Russell was doing only last week, and then I received a letter from her. The dear girl couldn't thank me enough for what I'd done for her," he added with an air of pomposity.
"She seems to be doing well," Ethel remarked, half-lying through her teeth.
"Let me call now, and I will send word as to the arrangements in due course. Any preference of when you go?"
"Miss Luckes has said I may take my fortnight's leave whenever it is convenient for all concerned, but I imagine Ada will be entering her confinement in just over six weeks, so I must have been and gone by then."
"Very well," Mr Holland confirmed, "leave this all to me."
"Thank you."
A great throng of noise and activity woke Ada one morning. It was before dawn, without even the faintest of light colouring the sky. She was still coming to when she heard a rapid knocking at her bedroom door. Flicking the lightswitch on and fumbling into her dressing gown, Ada blearily opened the door, still wiping the sleep from her eyes as she did so.
"Nurse Russell, please come quickly, Lady Burbridge is unwell," Adelaide panicked.
"I'm coming" Ada panted, racing to get her slippers, "what has happened?" she asked Adelaide as she followed her to Lady Constance's room."
"I don't know," Adelaide squeaked, "I found her on the floor, sweating most profusely, and holding her chest, she looked in a lot of pain."
"Oh no," Ada breathed.
Entering Lady Constance's room, Ada found her slumped on the floor beside her bed, just as Adelaide had described.
"Where does it hurt Lady Constance?" Ada asked, taking her by the wrist to check her pulse. It was racing.
"My chest, here," Lady Constance gasped, pressing her hand to her left side, and my arms."
"Adelaide, phone for a doctor, say the words suspected myocardial ischemia."
"My-oh-car-de-al is-shee-mee-ah," the young housemaid repeated phonetically.
"Run!" Ada screamed.
Adelaide, suddenly realising the gravity of the situation, sprinted out of the bedroom door and clattered her way down the stairs. Ada returned her attention to Lady Constance.
"I need to get you into a better position," Ada said calmly, "can you sit up a little for me, resting your back against the bed?" Lady Constance, with Ada's assistance, shuffled around so that her weight was leaning on the side of the bed. "Now, bend your knees for me and lean forward a little, I'm going to support your shoulders, alright?" Lady Constance complied. Ada continued to monitor her heart rate. Without her watch he could not be sure, but it felt well over 120. At that moment, Adelaide's footsteps were heard thundering up the stairs
"The doctor is on his way," she gasped, "and I have phoned her consultant in Harley Street, he will visit as soon as he can get a train. Can I do anything?"
"Fetch some aspirin and a glass of water," Ada insisted, "it should help."
Adelaide skipped off again. Ada sat in the semi-darkness beside Lady Constance, one hand feeling her benefactor's still-rapid pulse, the other feeling her baby's equally-rapid, agitated, movements, as if they felt the uneasiness of the situation as keenly as their mother currently did.
"Here's the water and aspirin," Adelaide announced as she re-entered the room.
"Thank you," Ada replied, "Lady Constance, can you try and take these for me?" she asked, pressing the tablets and the glass of water into her hands.
Lady Constance, with some difficulty, managed to swallow the aspirin.
"Keep breathing, really very gently, that's it," Ada soothed, "Adelaide, will you go and wait for the doctor, and bring him here as fast as you can when he arrives?"
"Yes Nurse Russell."
"Come on," Ada breathed some fifteen minutes later when the doctor still had not arrived. A clang of the front door echoing through the house a moment later eased Ada's fraying nerves.
"Dr Amos," a large middle-aged man called as he opened the door, panting slightly as he had run up the stairs.
"Patient's Lady Constance Burbridge," Ada began to recite, "fifty-three, suffers from gout, asthma, diabetes, and cardiac arrhythmia. She has suffered pains in her chest and upper arms, heart rate is around 120, but stable, she has taken 150 mg of aspirin. Onset of symptoms around 35 minutes ago."
"And you are?" Dr Amos scowled at Ada, his eyes fixed upon her abdomen.
"Nurse Ada Russell," Ada growled, "formally Sister Russell of The London Hospital."
"Well you were right to call me," Dr Amos continued without any recognition of anything Ada had said, "but I will take things from here."
"Has she had a myocardial ischemia?" Ada asked, "and if so, how am I to treat and manage her condition now?"
"All in good time my dear," Dr Amos drawled, "do let me get on and do my job." He finished with a wave of his hand to beckon Ada out of the room. It was at this point that Ada realised that Adelaide was standing outside of the door.
"Why was he so rude?" she asked, "you saved Lady Constance's life."
"So did you," Ada replied kindly, setting aside her rage at the injustice she had just received for a moment, "if you hadn't found her none of us would have been any the wiser. As for your first question, he's a doctor, and a man, the two creatures on this earth that think they are always right. I'm going to dress, don't let him leave until he has spoken to me."
"Very good Nurse Russell."
By the time Ada had washed, dressed, and pinned her hair and cap into place, Dr Amos was heading down the stairs to leave. Seeing Ada clad head-to-toe in uniform, her blossoming abdomen even more apparent, caused him to be noticeably uneasy. Ada felt internally smug.
"Lady Constance requires constant bedrest, ideally in a hospital but she is refusing to move from here," Dr Amos reeled off matter-of-factly, "there is a prescription in her room. But as you know already, her heart is weak and failing, this may have been a precursor to something far more serious."
"How long does she have?" Ada asked.
"One never really knows with hearts, Nurse Russell, it takes a lot to break them sometimes, but when they are broken, they rarely repair. Good day to you."
Ada returned to Lady Constance's side and asked, "how are you feeling?"
"I could be better," she admitted, "I must have given you all a right scare." As she spoke, Lady Constance reached out her arm and lay her hand on Ada's abdomen, then added, "even this little one knows!"
"Can you feel something too?" Ada asked excitedly.
"Oh yes, you've got a fighter there," Lady Constance replied, "just like their mother," she added, patting the back of Ada's nearest hand.
"Shall I send for Adelaide to bring you some breakfast?" Ada asked, getting up and opening the bedroom curtains onto what was becoming a gloriously bright morning.
"Yes please, though just a little this morning."
"Very well," Ada replied, taking her leave and closing the door behind her.
She found Adelaide and arranged for breakfast to be made, and then called all the other servants into the parlour to explain what had happened, the arrangements that would have to be made now that Lady Constance was prescribed bed rest, and to go through the list of engagements that would have to now be cancelled. By the time she had everything in order, and seen to her own nourishment, it was mid-morning. The call of the fine day was far too great and she slipped out the house for a stroll around the grounds. On returning to the house, she saw a cab stood outside the house, pulled by a golden chestnut horse with a white face and socks. Assuming it must be Lady Constance's consultant from Harley Street, she skipped up the stairs to head him off.
"Doctor!" she called as he was about to ring the doorbell.
"Yes," he began, turning to face her.
As their eyes met, it was hard to tell whose gasp of surprise was the most audible.
"James!" Ada squeaked.
Dr James Walton stood, staring, open-mouthed at his former fiancee, scanning her from top-to-toe, his gaze, whilst registering her uniform, flittered from her face, to the ringless finger on her left hand, to the now very obvious evidence of her pregnancy.
"Ada!" he eventually managed to stutter, "What's happened?"