Farewell To The East End

pain like burning knives tearing her body apart. She opened her mouth to scream, but a towel was thrust in, pushing her tongue backwards and nearly choking her.
    Miriam’s weight held her legs fast against her body so that she could not move.
    Mrs Prichard had a curette at her disposal. So she poked with it in a blind attempt to force entry through the cervix into the uterus. When she thought she had succeeded she started scraping around and continued scraping until blood began to flow. The pain was so intense that Hilda passed out, and when she regained consciousness she was vomiting, but the towel that had been thrust into her mouth was still there so she started choking. ‘Pull that towel away; we don’t want her to choke on us,’ muttered Mrs Prichard.
    The fresh blood flowed freely, but Hilda was unaware of it. She was conscious only of the vomit that was rising in her throat and of the towel being snatched away just in time, before she inhaled her own vomit, which would probably have killed her. She was aware of a silky voice saying, ‘There now. A nice flow of blood. That’s all you needed, dear. A nice new broom to sweep away them stomach cramps. You’ll be all right now, dear. You might feel shaky for a day or two, but it’ll soon pass, and you’ll be fine. Now get up, dear. Yes, you can get up all right and go and lie on the bed for an hour or two. We’ll do the clearing up. It’s all part of the service. I pride myself on never leaving a mess behind.’
    Hilda staggered to her feet and with the help of Miriam went to the bedroom. As she passed the end of the table she saw a bowl full of blood and blood dripping off the table onto the floor. Has that all come from me, she thought and clung to the towel the women had put between her legs. She vomited again. ‘Have some more potion, dear,’ said Mrs Prichard smoothly. ‘It will ease the stomach and help you sleep. These cramps can be real nasty, can’t they, dear?’ Hilda drank the potion, and lay down on the bed. She drifted again into unconsciousness, a state that kept coming and going for the rest of the day.
    The two women cleared up, after a fashion, Mrs Prichard muttering ‘If she expects us to clean this hovel, she’s got another think coming,’ then left Hilda bleeding, shocked and semi-conscious.

    Mrs Hatterton brought the toddlers back at three o’clock. She saw the state that Hilda was in and put two and two together. ‘You poor soul,’ she murmured. She took the children back to her place and returned with clean towels and sheets and carried fresh water up, because Hilda was raging with thirst. She took away the bloodied linen and packed the clean around the injured woman. Later she took the older children to her place too, and fed them, returning to Hilda several times to change the linen and to give her a drink. When she saw Bill returning at six o’clock, she stopped him in the street and told him his wife was ill. Nothing more. She told him that she would keep the children till her old man came back, but then they would have to return home. Bill just assumed that his wife had ’flu – ‘She’s bin a bit off colour lately.’ He had no idea, and was aghast when he saw Hilda, deathly white, scarce able to move or speak. ‘I’ll get a doctor,’ he said. ‘No, no, don’t, you mustn’t,’ was the woman’s anguished reply. She had to tell him, but he did not comprehend. ‘Women’s troubles,’ was his reaction. No man had anything to do with women’s troubles. He made his tea and went out. Mrs Hatterton brought the six children back at seven thirty and put them to bed, two in the cupboard and the others on the sofa or in the cot which she pulled into the main room. She gave Hilda some more water and changed her linen again. ‘You’ll have to manage,’ she said. She did not suggest getting a doctor. She knew, as Hilda did, that a doctor would probably mean police involvement and prosecution. These things had to be kept quiet. ‘I’ll be in tomorrow,’ she said as she left.
    Bill returned at ten thirty. He had been drinking, but was not drunk. Hilda looked no better. ‘You sure you don’t want no doctor?’ he asked, concerned. She had to explain to him that a doctor was legally bound to inform the police of a criminal abortion. He didn’t really understand, but the mention of police kept him silent. Seeing Hilda so pale and weak stirred his old tenderness for her. ‘How about a nice cup o’ tea, eh,