In the Midst of Life

women wore prettydresses. They all had hats and white lace gloves. I called to them, and they turned.
    ‘We come to see our daddy,’ one of the girls said.
    ‘But visiting time is over,’ I replied, ineffectually.
    ‘We come any time, day or night. The doctor, he say.’
    ‘Yes, but—’
    The older woman stepped forward and folded her arms.
    ‘No but! Who are you, anyway?’
    ‘I am the ward sister,’ I said, hoping I sounded confident.
    ‘You!’ she said scornfully. ‘You too young to be ward sister. In Kingston, ward sister is a big, strong mamma, fifty years of age, a woman who know how to handle men. Not skinny girl like you, no way.’
    I was completely squashed.
    Visitors were beginning to leave and we were blocking the doorway. I stepped aside and the three women took it as a sign that they should proceed to Mr Roberts’ bed. The two men stood up. One of them kissed the two younger girls, calling them sister Faith and sister Mercy, and the other said to the older woman, ‘Well, well, Aunt Adoration, what you doin’ here? Long time no see,’ and he shifted on his feet with a smooth, boneless motion.
    ‘You no smirk at me, nephew Zachariah. I come to see my brother Elias, is sick man. You no smirk, or I wipe that smirk right off your silly face.’ The boy sat down and shrugged effortlessly, his shoulders moving like running water.
    They brought a chair for the woman, who sat very close to Mr Roberts.
    ‘Brother Elias, the Lord, He send a visitation—’
    ‘Is you the visitation, Aunt Adoration?’ said the boy.
    You be quiet, saucy puppy. Brother Elias, the Angel of Death come visit you, but you be strong in the Lord and be not cast down, hallelujah.’
    ‘Hallelujah,’ chorused the girls.
    Several visitors, still lingering, looked at them. It was time tointervene.
    ‘It is ten past four, and visiting hour is over. We have work to do, so I must ask you to leave.’
    The older woman settled comfortably in her chair, and took off her gloves, before replying.
    ‘The doctor, he say we can visit any time, day or night, his wife tell me. I come all the way from Notting Hill to sit with my brother Elias.’
    She removed the pins from her hat and stuck them into the felt, and removed her hat, a gesture loaded with meaning. ‘No way.’ she muttered. ‘Skinny girls, huh. Mercy, pass me my bag.’
    From the bag she removed two small cushions, one of which she sat on. The other she placed comfortably at her back before glaring at me.
    ‘No skinny girl tell Adoration Consolation da Silva what to do,’ she announced, and waved her hand to shoo me away.
    The girls giggled behind their hands, exchanging glances. The boys looked up to the ceiling and whistled silently. I was floored. It was time to see Matron.
    ‘What!’ she exploded, ‘the Chief said these people might visit any time, day or night?’
    ‘Yes. I was present when he said it.’
    ‘Doctors! We could run this place very much better without doctors,’ she muttered, as she accompanied me back to the ward.
    It was a fighting start, but unequal from the outset. Matron had the advantage of being the older woman, but she was also a softie, and no match for Mrs da Silva, who won on points. Eventually, it was agreed that when essential work had to be carried out, the ward would be closed and the family could wait in the visitors’ room, which was on the ground floor.
    The five people disappeared downstairs, and I went to Mr Roberts’ side. He was a very sick man, and looked exhausted and grey. He could hardly move, but he murmured, ‘Thank you, Sister.’ I checked his urine drainage bag, which was heavily bloodstained, and resolved he must have more potassium citrate and more fluids. I examined his supra-pubic wound, which looked clean andcomfortable. I asked if he had any pain, and he breathed, ‘No more than usual.’ What did that mean? Pain is unquantifiable, and no one can assess the degree to which another feels it. He seemed to me to be a man of great courage, and as time went on we all began to recognise his outstanding qualities. Later, the Chief said to me, ‘I have seldom seen a man approach death with more nobility.’
    We had finished serving supper, the drug round and the essential bed changing and dressings, so I thought I would go to the visitors’ room to see if any of the relatives were still there.
    There were now not five people, but eight. I said that two could come upstairs to say goodnight to Mr Roberts,