Rosie shook her head incredulously. ‘Mebbe it’s all worked out for the best,’ she sighed. ‘It couldn’t have gone on the way it was when they were here, shouting and swearing, upsetting the residents and the nuns too,’ she said with a shame-faced blush. ‘Though till the day I die I’ll never believe they did that thieving. I don’t know who did, but I just know in my bones it wasn’t my kids,’ she added staunchly.

22. Ward Rounds

As Sybil thrashed her brains trying to think how she could approach Rosie, who was still in bed, out of the blue Dora came up with the solution. When it was Sybil’s turn to do the hospital ward chores, Dora allocated her to meal-time duty.

‘Could you do the teas and lunches, lovie?’

Sybil, who had never been called ‘lovie’ in her entire life, gave a curt nod.

‘Oh, and please encourage Rosie to eat as much as you can get down her,’ Dora urged.

Sybil’s ears pricked up. ‘Rosie Pickles?’ she asked.

‘Aye, we’ve got to build up her strength somehow.’

‘What bed is she in?’ Sybil asked.

‘No. 8.’ Dora nodded in the direction of the bed. ‘Sister Mann’s with her at the moment.’

Sister Mann in her usual fussy way was not impressed by Rosie’s nightdress.

‘It’s rather grubby,’ she complained, as she removed it in order to give Rosie a bed-wash.

‘It’s actually clean,’ Rosie protested, while Edith scrubbed her back a little too vigorously. ‘Just well worn.’

Seeing her patient’s skinny body swollen only in the pelvic area, where her feeble baby grew, Edith felt a stab of pity for Rosie, who, given the unrelenting harshness of her life, hardly ever complained.

‘I’ll get you a nice fresh nightie from the laundry store once I’ve finished washing you,’ she promised.

Walking to the store, Edith let out an involuntary sigh; Mary Vale’s functional linen nightshifts (made by the nuns with no embellishment) were a far cry from the silk pyjamas and lace nighties she had handled in her former nursing home. Charles had, in fact, bought her a ravishing cream lace negligee which was locked away with all her other treasures in the suitcase on top of her wardrobe. Sometimes at the end of a long and weary day Edith would unlock the suitcase and run her hands over the treasures of the past that Charles had lavished on her: pearls and silk she had worn on heavenly nights with him.