From the morning after their partaking in illicit late-night Horlicks and Battenberg cake, Ada and Sister Monica Joan came to a mutual understanding, respect, and, dare Ada thought, an affection. Working together was no longer a tiresome burden for Ada and she soon learned that Sister Monica Joan, for all her quirks, was a kind, patient teacher and an exceptionally knowledgeable midwife. She had not gained the honour of being one of the first qualified midwives for nothing. Life at Nonnatus House was cheering Ada to her very core. The gentleness of the nuns, the ebbing and flowing of their lives washed over Ada. District midwifery came with the same levels of hard work as hospital nursing, but the freedom it gave more than compensated for the long cycles through darkened cobbled backstreets in the driving rain. Witnessing the beginnings of lives had never made her feel more alive.
"And Nursing Sister Russell!"
Sister Ermengarde's shrill tone awoke Ada from her hazed thoughts. She had been at Nonnatus House for nearly six weeks and was imagining the luxury of a half day and an evening off without a curfew, something unimaginable at The London. And all the places she could go.
"Yes, sorry Sister Ermengarde," Ada replied, shaking herself back into focus.
"I'm afraid that with Sister Hildegarde being so unwell and Sister Gertrude having had to return to the Mother House last night, we're rather stretched. Before Mr Champneys we could probably have turned a blind eye and sent you out on your own, you're certainly capable enough, but…" As Sister Ermengarde's voice trailed off, Ada allowed herself a small smile. "As it stands," she continued after a moment, "with the available midwives we have, we need to work as effectively and efficiently as possible, and ensure that Sister Hildegarde is attended to. Would you mind awfully attending to this very small District round and then return here to Sister Hildegarde and see to her until we all return tonight?"
"Of course," Ada replied, trying not to sound crestfallen as the thought of a day out in the crisp autumn air and an evening at the theatre slowly began to evaporate before her eyes. She stared down at the District list she had been handed. Two dressing changes and a haemorrhoid compression. "Could have been worse," she thought.
As everyone filed out of the clinical room, Ada felt a hand rest briefly upon her shoulder. Turning around, she noticed Sister Monica Joan standing behind her. Expecting a smarmy remark, Ada raised an accusing eyebrow a quarter of an inch. Much to her surprise, however, Sister Monica Joan said "I've always found our dear Sister Hildegarde to be a rather fascinating old lady, one never knows what to expect in her company." And without another word, Sister Monica Joan slid past Ada and disappeared out of sight.
Ada saw to her District list with a steady monotony that only years of ward nursing can foster and by 10:30 she had returned to Nonnatus House, parked her bicycle and began the trek up the steep stairs to Sister Hildegarde's cell. She knocked gently upon the door.
"Enter," answered a voice that was confident in its conviction if not in its delivery.
Ada slid round the door and entered Sister Hildegarde's cell for the first time. It was far larger than the others and much more richly furnished, more akin to an elegant bedsit than a monastic cell. There were pictures on the walls, a thick rug beside a wrought-iron bed which had a patchwork quilt draped over it, and bookshelves filled several corners. Sitting in an armchair by the fire was a very elderly nun, Ada wondered just how old she could possibly be, older than anyone she had nursed before. Wisps of white hair escaped from beneath her whimple, her skin had a translucent quality, but her silvery-grey eyes shone like new shillings. She must have once been a very beautiful woman, Ada thought. But her ailment was clear to see, in the weight loss that caused her habit to swamp her frail body and hang limply from her shoulders and in the blood-stained handkerchief that she raised to her lips as she began to cough. The cough. The telltale sign. Tuberculous. Consumption. Call it what one will. It was consuming Sister Hildegarde. The foundress of Nonnatus House was dying.
"How are you, Sister?" Ada asked kindly, as the latest wave of coughing which gripped the elderly nun from dawn to dusk petered its way out.
"I have been better," Sister Hildegarde admitted, though not without being able to raise the smallest of smiles, "I see you have drawn the short straw today," she added, watching Ada collect discarded, bloodstained handkerchiefs and the very full chamber pot.
"Not at all," Ada replied as cheerfully as she could muster, "I'm a nurse and it is my pleasure to care for you. Would you like a cup of tea?" she added.
"That would be most appreciated," Sister Hildegarde replied, "and some of the spotted dick!" she added with a beaming flourish.
As Ada left the cell and headed into the yard towards the privy she couldn't help but admire Sister Hildegarde's strength and resolve. "I hope I still have the same enthusiasm for life, and steamed pudding, as she does when I'm that old," Ada thought.
"They wanted to get rid of me, you know," Sister Hildegarde announced as Ada re-entered her cell.
"What could you possibly mean?" Ada enquired, setting the tea tray piled with cups, saucers, two bowls of pudding, milk, sugar and that morning's copy of The Times on the table beside Sister Hildegarde's chair. She poured the tea and sat down next to Sister Hildegarde, placing her own bowl of spotted dick on her lap as she did so.
"Send me away," Sister Hildegarde slurped through her tea. Ada instinctively wiped the old woman's chin. "To one of those sanitoriums, out in the middle of nowhere."
"Lots of fresh air is highly recommended for consumptive patients," Ada advised, "and it's something in short supply in the East End of London."
"Oh I know all that," snapped the elderly nun sharply, "but I would never get any better in a place like that."
"I hear the care in sanitoriums is as good as in any hospital," Ada motioned, now alternating spooning her own spotted dick into her mouth and Sister Hildegarde's into hers.
"I don't want to be in one of those infirmaries either, no offence to your good self," Sister Hildegarde retorted, defiantly.
"But, you're a nurse," Ada remarked, "surely you want the best care for yourself and for your patients?"
At these words, Sister Hildegarde slowly straightened herself up in her chair and stared Ada straight in the eye. After a moment she said, "I'm sure that you, as I do, know the difference between love and care?"
"Yes," Ada replied, her mind flashing back to a conversation with Miss Luckes many months earlier.
"Well," Sister Hildegarde continued, "in a hospital or a sanitorium, I would only ever receive care. Excellent care, I'm sure, but only care. Here, amongst my Sisters, who I have been with through thick and thin for over sixty years, I am both cared for and loved. One day, no amount of care will ever make me better, but love will always sustain me, and make my eventual demise and parting ever so slightly sweeter. I do not fear death, but I fear dying without those I love surrounding me."
Waves of emotion rippled through Ada's stomach, but she could not put her feelings into a coherent response. Aware of the silence hanging in the air, Sister Hildegarde continued, "you are here, as you both care and love. Confusing the two is unprofessional, combining the two is commendable. You are a good nurse Ada Russell, you'd make a good midwife. You'd make an excellent mother."
Sister Hildegarde's words hit Ada like a kick in the guts. She stared at the nun aghast.
"You're not the first, nor will you be the last nurse entering the latter stages of her childbearing years to dabble in midwifery, for better or for worse," Sister Hildegarde remarked, knowingly.
"That's not why…" Ada began to splutter in protest.
"Focus on what you can have, and make it happen," Sister Hildegarde advised, "and what you want may well materialise as a result."
"I'm not sure what I want anymore," Ada admitted for the first time, "hospital nursing has been my life for so long now. But Nonnatus House has made me think that there is so much more."
"You will find a way of achieving all you desire," Sister Hildegarde advised, "you just need the opportunity to present itself."
Ada smiled in acknowledgement of the nun's kind words. A silence fell on the room. A thick silence which was soon shrilly interrupted by the peal of the doorbell. As Ada arose from her chair to answer it, Sister Hildegarde took her hand and whispered, "Let us see what this opportunity brings."