Dangerous Lady

Book One

LONDON, NOTTING HILL

If possible honestly, if not,
somehow,
make money - Horace, 65-8 BC
Am I my brother's keeper? - Genesis, iv, 9

1950

'You took your bloody time!'

Dr Martin O'Reilly stared down into the child's face and sighed.

'I had to see another patient. Now where's your ma?' 'In bed, of course.'

The little boy went back to sit on the stairs with his seven brothers. They ranged in age from three to fourteen. The doctor lit a cigar. He stood in the hallway puffing on it for a few seconds to make sure it was fully alight. The smell of the Ryans en masse was enough to turn the strongest of stomachs, though the slum stench was in his blood now, he reckoned. It permeated his clothes and skin. He started to pick his way up the stairs, careful not to tread on any little fingers. The children shuffled left and right on their bottoms to let him pass. He was also careful not to touch the wall. The smell he could combat with his cigar, but the roaches - he would never get used to them. How the buggers ran up the walls he would never know. They defied gravity.

On the landing he pushed open the first bedroom door, and there in front of him was Sarah Ryan. She was lying on a large double bed, her belly huge and swollen. He smiled at her, his heart breaking. Sarah Ryan was thirty-four years old. Her faded blonde hair was scraped back from her face into a bun, her skin was pale and dry. If her eyes had not been so bright and alert, she could have been mistaken for a corpse. He could remember coming to this house fifteen years earlier to deliver her first child. A fine-Iooking woman she had been then. Now her body was fat and scarred from constant childbearing, and her face wrinkled prematurely from habitual frowning.

'It's well on then?' His voice was gentle.

Sarah tried to hitch herself up in the bed. The old newspapers that had been placed underneath her crackled at the movement. 'Yeah. It's good of you to come, Martin. I told the little sods to get their dad, but as usual he ain't nowhere to be seen. ,

She gripped her belly as another pain shot through her. 'Oh, it's dying to be born this one. ' She smiled faintly. Then her eyes stretched wide as she saw the doctor take a syringe out of his bag.

'You ain't sticking that thing in me! We had all this out the last time. I ain't having any bloody injections. This is me thirteenth child and I never had one with any of them. Not even the stillborns. I ain't starting now. ,

'Come on, Sarah. This will ease you.'

She put up her hand to stem his protests. 'I'm sorry but them things hurt like hell, whereas giving birth…it's nothing. Nothing…’

Martin put the needle on the small bedside table and, sighing heavily, pulled back the blankets covering her legs. His expert hands felt around her sides and then he slipped two fingers inside her vagina. When he had finished he pulled the blankets back over her.

'I think this one's breech.' Sarah shrugged.

'First one if it is. I ain't done so bad. Ben was saying the other day that soon they would drop out as I walked down to the shops!'

She laughed and the doctor laughed with her.

'That would do me out of a job. Now you relax for a minute, I won't be long. I want one of the boys to run an errand for me. ' He left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

'She had it then?' This from eight-year-old Leslie who had let him in earlier.

'No, she hasn't had it yet. Be patient, you young bugger. , The doctor turned to the eldest boy, Michael. At nearly fifteen he was already over six feet tall and towered over the little Irish doctor in front of him.

'Michael, go and get old Mother Jenkins. I'm going to need help with this one. ,

The boy stared down at the doctor for a few seconds. 'Me muvver's gonna be all right, ain't she?' His voice was deep and concerned.

The doctor nodded. 'Of course.' The boy still did not move.

'She's never had old Mother Jenkins before. ,

The doctor stared up at the boy impatiently. 'Look, Michael, I can't stand around here all day talking to you. Your ma's bad, but if we can get this baby born she'll be all right. The sooner you get Mrs Jenkins the better. Time's short. ,

Michael turned slowly away from the doctor and placing one hand on the banister and the other on the wall he slid down, jumping over the younger boys' heads. As he landed heavily on the linoleum, the doctor called to him: 'Tell her I'll be paying the ten shillings or she won't come.'

Michael waved to let the doctor know he had heard, then, opening the front door, he rushed out.

The doctor looked down on to the younger children's heads and his teeth clamped down even harder on his cigar. Michael's foray down the stairs had caused the cockroaches to fall from the walls. The youngest child, Benny, not only had them crawling in his clothes, but one adventurous roach was slowly making its way across his face. Martin watched the child flick it gently away and made a mental note to see the landlord about getting the house stoved. It would never get rid of the damned things permanently but at least it would give the Ryans a breathing space.

'Now then, I want a couple of you to go and find your father. ' Geoffrey, Anthony and Leslie all stood up. The doctor pointed at them in turn. 'You, Geoffrey, try the Latimer Arms. You, Anthony, go up the Roundhouse. And you…’

Leslie nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor .

'…go to the Kensington Park Hotel. If you can't find him in any of those places then try the Bramley Arms. If by any chance you do find your da, tell him that he is needed at home. Can you all remember that?'

The three heads nodded and they went on their way. Martin went back into the bedroom with Sarah.

'Sure they're good boys you've got there.'

Her voice sounded sceptical. 'I don't know about that, Doctor. They're a bit wild at times. It's the old man. He takes the belt to them for nicking one minute, and then the next he's sending them out to do it. The poor little sods can't win.'

She doubled up as another pain hit her .

'Relax now, Sarah. ' He pushed a few stray hairs from her face. It was getting dark so he pulled the curtains and put on the overhead light. He lit himself another cigar from the butt of the previous one. Then, with it firmly clamped between his teeth, he examined her again. When he had finished he had a worried look on his face. He visibly relaxed as he heard a voice in the hallway. A few seconds later Matilda Jenkins had pushed open the bedroom door. She stood at the end of Sarah's bed, all eighteen stone of her.

' All right, Doctor?' This was a form of address, not a question.

' All right, Sarah? The bloody stairs knacker me these days. But them boys!' She flapped her hand at Sarah. 'Talk about scatter them. One look at me coming up' em and they run like mad!' Her deep booming laugh reverberated around the bedroom. The doctor was paying her the ten shillings, she could afford to be friendly.

'It's a big woman you are, Matilda, to be sure. Now get yourself back down the stairs and heat me up lots of water. I want to sterilise me things. This little fellow's breech.’

Matilda nodded her head vigorously.

'Righto, Doc. I'II send around the neighbours, get them to put their kettles on. We might even get a cuppa out of them!'

As she stamped from the room, Sarah glared at the doctor .

'What's she doing here? I ain't got ten shillings, and if I did have I'd give it to the kids. They ain't eaten since yesterday, and until that man of mine comes home, they won't eat at all! Knowing him, he's shacked up with some old sort somewhere and won't be home till the morning!'

She was near to tears.

'Calm down now, Sarah. I'm paying her. ' He grasped one of her hands. 'Now be quiet, woman. I can't cope with this on me own. So you whisht now, and save your strength. ,

Sarah lay back against the pillows, her face drenched with sweat. Her lips were cracked and dry. Turning awkwardly towards the bedside table, she picked up a glass of water and sipped the warm liquid gratefully. A little while later Matilda bought up a bucket of steaming water. The doctor set about sterilising his things, including a large pair of scissors.

By nine in the evening Sarah was in great distress, as was the child within her. Twice the doctor had tried to push his arm inside her to turn the child and each time he had failed. He wiped his hands on a towel he had brought with him.

This child had to be born, and soon, or he would lose the pair of them. Blast Benjamin Ryan! I t was always the same. He gave her a child every year, but was never there when it came into the world.

The little boys kept their vigil on the stairs. All were tired and hungry. Michael, waiting at the top, was silently cursing his father as he looked at his younger brothers' little faces. Benny was sucking the arm of his jumper.

Suddenly there was a loud banging on the front door. Six-year-old Garry answered it, only to be knocked flying as two policemen came crashing in. Michael took one look at them and, swearing under his breath, ran into his mother's bedroom. Cries could be heard from the stairs as the policemen tried to make their way up to the landing, the remaining boys making it as difficult as possible for them in the hope that their brother would get away.

Michael had opened the bedroom window and was half in and half out as the policemen burst into the room.

Then the lights went out.