Shadows of the Workhouse

up most of her work, arguing that this would be the only time in their lives when he was not working six days a week, and they could treat it as a holiday. A bit of radium therapy would hardly get in the way and they could go out and about on the other days and have a good time.
    However, Peggy continued her work at Nonnatus House. Perhaps she needed the proximity of the Sisters for reassurance and advice. She did not appear anxious, saying things like, “He’s getting on nicely now, thank you, Sister,” or, “We haven’t been out anywhere, really. The radium seems to make him tired, so we stay in, and he likes to hear me reading to him. It’s better than going out, we reckon.”
    One day she said, “He seems to get pain at night, but they’ve given him some tablets, and that’ll do the trick, eh, Sister?” Another time she said, “He’s lost a bit of weight. Good thing too, I tell him. ‘You were beginning to get quite a paunch on you,’ I said, and he laughed and said, ‘You’re right there, Peg.’”
    Within a few weeks we were requested to take Frank for home nursing. Sister Julienne and I went to assess him.
    Peggy and Frank lived in a prefab on the Isle of Dogs. These were small, ready-made buildings erected in huge numbers after the war, to house some of the thousands of people whose homes had been destroyed. The prefabs were put up as an emergency measure and intended to last only four to five years, but many of them lasted forty to fifty years. They were very pleasant, cosy and greatly preferred to the terraces that had been destroyed by the bombs. As we approached the prefab estate in the morning sunlight, it looked charming, with the low buildings, leafy trees full of sparrows and the river lapping in the background. It always surprised me that only a short distance from one of the biggest commercial ports in the world such quietness and peace could prevail.
    Their tiny garden, about six to ten feet of space all around the house, was well tended, with flowers and cabbages and runner beans growing well. A vine was trained up the south wall and I wondered if they ever got any grapes worth eating. The front door opened straight into the sitting room, which was comfortable and pretty. It was also spotlessly clean. Peggy was obviously very house-proud.
    She greeted us with her usual happy smile. “It’s good of you to come,” she said as she took Sister’s cloak and hung it up. “He’s in bed at the moment, but he’s getting along nicely. He’s had two weeks of the radium treatment now and he’s getting stronger all the time. He says he’ll be back at the market in no time.”
    We went into the bedroom and I was thankful that Sister Julienne was with me. Had I been alone, my reaction at seeing Frank for the first time in about three months would probably have betrayed my shock. He looked ghastly. He lay in the middle of the big double bed, his eyes sunken, his skin grey. He had lost so much weight that his flesh hung in wrinkles and he had lost most of his hair. I doubt if any of his mates at the market would have recognised him.
    Sister went straight up to him, with her gentle warmth. “Hello Frank, how nice to see you again. We miss you at Nonnatus House, and look forward to your return. The other man’s good, we’ve no complaints, but it’s not the same as having you.”
    Frank smiled, and the skin pulled tight across his nose and cheek bones. His eyes, sunk deep into their bony sockets, gleamed with pleasure. “I’ll be back right enough, Sister. It’s only a few more weeks of this radium, an’ I’ll be on me feet again.”
    “Are you sure you won’t go into hospital for the remainder of your treatment? It would be more restful, you know. The ambulance journey back and forward can be very tiring, especially after the treatment.”
    But Frank and Peggy were both adamant that he should remain at home.
    Sister examined him. She carefully moved his emaciated body, the arms and legs that seemed to have insufficient muscle to lift their own weight. Was this the man who had lifted a hundredweight box of cod only a few short weeks ago? I went to the other side of the bed and caught in my nostrils the smell of death as I leaned over him.
    Strangely enough, Peggy did not seem to notice how desperately ill he was. She seemed perfectly happy, and kept saying things like: “He’s getting on fine,” “He’s getting stronger each day,” or, “He ate all the milk pudding I made