then stare at me blankly when I asked a final question, clearly not having heard a word.
‘We’re not going to the doctor’s tomorrow or any time soon. In fact, I don’t think we’ll see Doctor Malory ever again, because he’s such an old nosy parker,’ said Mum.
‘But he said—’
‘I don’t
care
what he said.’
‘We
have
to have these tests and get our X-rays.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with us! We’re not coughing, are we?’
‘No, but—’
‘And we’re not tired out and getting all scraggy like Nanny, are we? Well, I’m not – and you’ve always been skinny, so it doesn’t count.’
‘But why can’t we have the tests? We’ll pass them and everything will be all right.’
‘Oh no it won’t, Miss Clever Clogs. As soon as anyone gets wind of us going for chest X-rays, they’ll guess – and then they’ll act like we’ve got the plague. The mums at that school of yours will fuss about you being a carrier and won’t want their kiddies playing with you.’
They didn’t play with me anyway, but it didn’t seem the right time to point this out to Mum.
‘And I’ll never ever get a job, because they’ll think I’ll infect all the other girls. And if I don’t work, how are we going to pay the rent, because if I tell all the other tenants your nanny’s got TB and they’ve all got to be tested, they’ll snitch on us to the landlord and we’ll be kicked out into the gutter.’
‘They’ll kick us?’ I said, so worried I couldn’t get my wits together.
‘Oh, for pity’s sake, I don’t mean literally. Stop gawping at me like a bally goldfish, you’re driving me insane. Go to bed!’
I went to bed, and after a very long time snuffling into Albert Trunk I went to sleep – but then I started dreaming. Dr Malory loomed in front of an army of authorities, and they were seizing hold of me and kicking me along the gutter like footballs while they chanted the two terrible initials, ‘
TB! TB! TB!
’ over and over again.
‘Elsie! For God’s sake, wake up! You’re screaming! You’ll wake the whole blooming house!’ said Mum, shaking me.
I clung round her neck, breathing in her sweet powdery smell. ‘Oh Mum, don’t let them take me away,’ I sobbed.
‘Don’t be so daft. No one’s taking you anywhere,’ she said, but she slipped into my bed and cuddled me close. ‘There now, calm down. It’s all right, Mummy’s here.’
‘Oh Mum, it was so awful!’
‘It was just a silly dream.’ Mum stroked my hair and pulled me onto her lap so we were lying like spoons. ‘So you didn’t want to be parted from your old mum in this dream of yours?’ she said. ‘Why was that?’
‘Because – because I love you,’ I said.
‘I thought you were a right old nanny’s girl,’ said Mum.
I
was
. I loved Nan a hundred times more than I loved Mum, but for once I was wise enough not to say this out loud. I just nestled against Mum’s soft silky petticoat, and I think she went on holding me tight long after we were both asleep.
She was gentler than usual when we got up in the morning.
‘I’ve been thinking, Elsie – maybe we
will
pop along to silly old fusspot Malory. We’ll take his test and get our chests X-rayed to stop him kicking up a fuss. But we won’t tell the O’Henrys upstairs or Miss Godden, or that weird Mike in the attic flat. Dr Malory’s not necessarily going to know they live in the house with us. He’ll have hundreds of patients. I’m sure he won’t know where most of them live. I’ll come and meet you after school – but don’t you breathe a word about it, OK?’
I felt very relieved, though now I worried about this X-ray and test. I knew an X-ray was a photo of your insides, but I didn’t know whether it would hurt or not, and I didn’t want to show my frilly knickers to anyone else. I went to school, thankful that we didn’t have PT on a Tuesday.
‘Where did you get to yesterday, Elsie?’ Miss Roberts asked.
‘Oh, I had to go to the
‘We’re not going to the doctor’s tomorrow or any time soon. In fact, I don’t think we’ll see Doctor Malory ever again, because he’s such an old nosy parker,’ said Mum.
‘But he said—’
‘I don’t
care
what he said.’
‘We
have
to have these tests and get our X-rays.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with us! We’re not coughing, are we?’
‘No, but—’
‘And we’re not tired out and getting all scraggy like Nanny, are we? Well, I’m not – and you’ve always been skinny, so it doesn’t count.’
‘But why can’t we have the tests? We’ll pass them and everything will be all right.’
‘Oh no it won’t, Miss Clever Clogs. As soon as anyone gets wind of us going for chest X-rays, they’ll guess – and then they’ll act like we’ve got the plague. The mums at that school of yours will fuss about you being a carrier and won’t want their kiddies playing with you.’
They didn’t play with me anyway, but it didn’t seem the right time to point this out to Mum.
‘And I’ll never ever get a job, because they’ll think I’ll infect all the other girls. And if I don’t work, how are we going to pay the rent, because if I tell all the other tenants your nanny’s got TB and they’ve all got to be tested, they’ll snitch on us to the landlord and we’ll be kicked out into the gutter.’
‘They’ll kick us?’ I said, so worried I couldn’t get my wits together.
‘Oh, for pity’s sake, I don’t mean literally. Stop gawping at me like a bally goldfish, you’re driving me insane. Go to bed!’
I went to bed, and after a very long time snuffling into Albert Trunk I went to sleep – but then I started dreaming. Dr Malory loomed in front of an army of authorities, and they were seizing hold of me and kicking me along the gutter like footballs while they chanted the two terrible initials, ‘
TB! TB! TB!
’ over and over again.
‘Elsie! For God’s sake, wake up! You’re screaming! You’ll wake the whole blooming house!’ said Mum, shaking me.
I clung round her neck, breathing in her sweet powdery smell. ‘Oh Mum, don’t let them take me away,’ I sobbed.
‘Don’t be so daft. No one’s taking you anywhere,’ she said, but she slipped into my bed and cuddled me close. ‘There now, calm down. It’s all right, Mummy’s here.’
‘Oh Mum, it was so awful!’
‘It was just a silly dream.’ Mum stroked my hair and pulled me onto her lap so we were lying like spoons. ‘So you didn’t want to be parted from your old mum in this dream of yours?’ she said. ‘Why was that?’
‘Because – because I love you,’ I said.
‘I thought you were a right old nanny’s girl,’ said Mum.
I
was
. I loved Nan a hundred times more than I loved Mum, but for once I was wise enough not to say this out loud. I just nestled against Mum’s soft silky petticoat, and I think she went on holding me tight long after we were both asleep.
She was gentler than usual when we got up in the morning.
‘I’ve been thinking, Elsie – maybe we
will
pop along to silly old fusspot Malory. We’ll take his test and get our chests X-rayed to stop him kicking up a fuss. But we won’t tell the O’Henrys upstairs or Miss Godden, or that weird Mike in the attic flat. Dr Malory’s not necessarily going to know they live in the house with us. He’ll have hundreds of patients. I’m sure he won’t know where most of them live. I’ll come and meet you after school – but don’t you breathe a word about it, OK?’
I felt very relieved, though now I worried about this X-ray and test. I knew an X-ray was a photo of your insides, but I didn’t know whether it would hurt or not, and I didn’t want to show my frilly knickers to anyone else. I went to school, thankful that we didn’t have PT on a Tuesday.
‘Where did you get to yesterday, Elsie?’ Miss Roberts asked.
‘Oh, I had to go to the
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