Open Writing

When Doreen was three years old and Rex fourteen months younger we had a nurse who came to be called "Bad Nanna". She had come to Mummy with good recommendations, and so Mummy placed her confidence in her and interfered but little in the nursery.

One summer afternoon Mummy set off to an At Home at the house of one of her friends. When she had walked some distance she discovered that she had forgotten her cards and turned back to collect them. As she opened the front door scream after scream shrieked through the house coming from the bathroom. Mummy dropped her bag and her parasol, and gathering up her long skirts raced up the stairs trying to imagine whatever was happening.

To her horror she found the door to be locked on the inside and she could hear the sound of running water. The shrieks pierced the air, poor little Doreen in a state of pain and terror. Mummy banged on the door in a frenzy, "Open this door at once, at once do you hear, open the door Nurse" but still the shrieks continued, and the sound of running water.

"If you don't open this door at once I shall call the police" Mummy yelled, her heart in a quiver of fear and suspense.

At last came silence, broken only by little sobbing gasps from Doreen, the bolt slid back, the door opened and there stood "Bad Nanna", not one whit abashed, her face red and shining with her exertions in the room, hot with steam. The child was fully dressed but soaking wet. Mummy clutched
her small daughter to her, blazing with anger, and was told that Doreen had been naughty so the nurse had plunged her into a hot bath to punish her.

Mummy undressed the child and was greatly relieved to see the fine skin was only slightly reddened. She thanked God that she had left her cards behind, and feared to think what might have happened had she not returned so unexpectedly.

Mummy ordered Nurse to "Go and stay in the nursery", and gathering Rex and Doreen up, one under each arm, she withdrew and did not let them out of her sight until Daddy returned that evening, when she poured out the whole story.

Then, of course, came an awkward interview with the nurse, who was given a severe reprimand, threatened with the police and prosecution, and told that she must pack up and leave in the morning.

After the nurse had departed it transpired that this was not the only instance of her cruelty. Mummy learned from other people of bad conduct in the park to the children, and one of the maids told her that Rex, young as he was, had been locked in a dark cupboard for a couple of hours. Mummy and Daddy had noticed the child looking white and listless for about a week, but there seemed to be nothing wrong, no rash or ailment. Of course, they now realised that the baby had been shocked and terrified. This distressed them very much, and people told them that the fright could have made an idiot of the boy which helped matters not one bit.

When I was eighteen months old we had an excellent nurse and there is no doubt that she saved my life. I had found a halfpenny and naturally put it to my mouth; then, inadvertently, I swallowed it and it stuck across the throat. When I was discovered by Mummy my face had turned black
with choking. Not knowing what to do, she called out with such desperation in her voice that the nurse came running, whipped past Mummy at the door, seized my ankles, turned me upside down and shook me like a dog shakes a rat. The halfpenny was dislodged and, happily, I recovered.

The nurse I first remember in the early years was Miss Redman. She was strict and just and I loved her dearly. She must have been a clever woman for besides dealing with the four of us, high-spirited and mischievous as we were, she made practically all our clothes in the nursery. Mummy used to help with the fittings and did a great deal of embroidery, and we had an invaluable Singer sewing machine which Bobby learned to handle expertly; as a growing boy he was always fascinated with the way it worked.

We wore simple clothes for every day, jumpers and skirts with bloomers, and the boys jumpers and knickerbockers, after they had emerged from their tunic suits. Of course we had dresses too, all quite plain. When we returned from school and the weather was warm enough we used to slip into play suits, all of one piece, and run barefoot in the garden, delightfully free.

I remember I had a summer dress I called my "pussy frock" for at the front of the square neck were four little kittens in coloured linen, which I thought charming.

It was a different story for Sundays and parties, for then we girls were dressed in elaborate white dresses of broderie anglaise, with yokes and puffed sleeves, fine lace bordering the neck and arms; knickers and petticoats with the same embroidery, with pink or blue ribbon threaded through a slot in each article. The boys wore the popular sailor suits which consisted of white blouses with large, flat, navy blue collars, black cravats, and short navy blue trousers, and we all had heavy coats with sailor collars in the winter, together with sailor caps.

My first real grief came when one morning a telegram arrived to say that Miss Redman's mother was very ill, and she had to leave at once. I clung to her, begging her to come back, but as I watched the cab taking her away I knew in my heart that she never would return. She was tall and straight with heavy auburn hair, and a quality about her that made us love her. We never had anyone quite like her again.

After Miss Redman had left, a Nurse Basford was engaged to look after us. She had an uphill task following on after Miss Redman and she only stayed about a year. She was kind, and went to a great deal of trouble making some exquisite clothes for one of my dolls, but she never won my heart which remained sad for a long time.

Miss Basford was followed by Miss Robson. Somehow we gave her the name of Robin and yet we two younger ones never grew to like her, perhaps she had more success with the elder two. Breakfast time, under her rule, was pandemonium. Bobby, who was now five years old, was often just a little late, so he pulled out his chair quickly and slid into it, hoping to attract the least possible attention. It never worked, and crisply the questions would come, "Have you washed your neck and behind your ears?"

Bobby never had or had only done so very superficially, and that did not please Robin. So he was in trouble and arguments began. "Why must I wash behind my ears? they aren't dirty" and on it went until Bobby was removed, noisily protesting.

Whilst this was in progress I was hoping it would not be noticed that I was playing about with my porridge, trying to squash the lumps, and praying that this morning, at least, I would escape having to eat it. But I was never lucky. The lumps stuck in my throat and made me heave so that I had to run to the basin. I begged to be allowed to leave it, and hours seemed to pass as I sat with the obnoxious stuff under my eyes. It was so silly when it made me sick, I reasoned.

This went on morning after morning, Doreen and Rex solemnly wading through their breakfast with never a word. At last, I could bear it no longer. The whole of me rebelled and bursting into tears I flew next door into Daddy's and Mummy's bedroom. Daddy turned in astonishment at this whirlwind intrusion, and Mummy began to say something about knocking at the door. Gasping, "I'm sorry," but taking no further notice I implored Daddy to tell Robin that I need not eat porridge.

Patting me on the shoulder, to my surprise he said "No, pet lamb, you need not eat porridge, I have already told Miss Robson that you are to be excused as it makes you sick," and he turned to Mummy making some remark about Miss Robson going against his instructions. I waited for no more and with tears magically cleared up, I sailed in triumph into the nursery with my important message. Then we had peace at last!