Chapter Text
Charles Newgarden took his last breath at 1:43pm on the 3rd of March, 1960.
Louise had sat next to his side the entire time he was on his death bed, refusing to leave his side until he had truly gone. She spoke to him reassuringly, repeating how much she loved and missed him. She had held his hand, rubbing his knuckles with her thumb.
When his last breath had shuddered out of him and his body went limp, she stood and left the room for the first time since that morning, unable to bear it any longer.
As the doctor was leaving, he informed Louise that he would be back in a day or two with the mortician to take Charles away. Louise could only nod, fearing if she were to speak, she would lose all control.
Closing the door behind the doctor, Louise felt herself starting to fall apart. Her husband, her darling husband, was gone. He was gone and there was no way she could get him back.
She stood at the entrance, tears falling down her cheeks and landing on the carpet below her feet. It was all too much. Charles lay upstairs, no longer there, and it broke her heart.
She would have to inform her son and daughters. She had made a promise the last time they had visited to telephone when he passes. And for a moment, she focused all of her energy on that. For a moment, she had to focus on something else.
She had a funeral to organise, friends and family to speak to, a wake for after the funeral to set up. When those were finished, she would allow herself to be a widow.
The doctor had returned 2 days later. As they took away the body, Louise muttered a quiet prayer. She needed as much strength as she could muster for the next few days.
Truthfully, she wasn’t sure how she would manage. So much of her life had included Charles, that to go through such a thing without him felt like she had lost her strength all together. She had her children and grandchildren to support her through it, but she wanted him. Just for one more moment before facing everything.
Time had felt like it was speeding up. One moment, Louise was watching her husband being taken away from her, the mortician carrying the body away to be prepared for the funeral. The next, she sat tat the front of the chapel, the coffin elevated by the stairs.
She felt Anthony’s hand on hers, an attempt to reassure her. All she could muster to do was offer a weak smile in return, squeezing her sons hand. ‘I’ll be alright.’ Her son gave her a quick look before looking back towards the front.
At the wake, she was offered condolences by everyone in attendance. At all times, she was surrounded by a small group of people, each muttered a sorry and recounted stories of Charles.
It had surprised her somewhat by how many people had turned up. By the end, she was exhausted and wished to return home. After a few goodbyes, she accepted a ride home by her eldest daughter, Margie.
When they had left, her house felt empty. She again stood in the entrance, feeling already that there were things missing, that someone was missing.
Typically, after she had a day out without Charles, he would greet her at the door with a kiss. They would make their way to the living room, him asking her about her day and her retelling the interesting bits, and her favourite tea would be already laid out on the coffee table.
There was none of that. No kisses, no tea, no chatter, no retelling. There was no one but her now, left to deal with a house that no longer felt like home.
It terrified her to go upstairs to their room. He wouldn’t be there, and she didn’t want to face a side of the bed that was now cold. She clung to his pillow since he had passed. But now, after the funeral, she couldn’t face it.
Instead, she grabbed her nightgown and went to the spare bedroom. She would sleep in there until she figured something out. His will would be read out in 2 days, perhaps she could have answer if she didn’t have one by then.
The corridors felt colder as she walked down them. The photos they had been collecting over the past almost 3 decades hung on the wall, plaguing her mind with painful reminders of what was no more.
She knew from the moment that Charles was diagnosed with heart failure that he would die. When they had sat in the doctors office, she could feel her own heart sink.
She had had months in advance to prepare for it, but she still didn’t want to accept it. Her heart wouldn’t allow it, and her mind would never forget. Tears fell down her cheeks, staining them. Louise didn’t bother wiping them. She didn’t want to pretend it didn’t hurt, that everything was aching from the pain.
In the meantime, she would have to get used to an empty house.
A month after the reading of Charles’ will, Louise had finally made her decision.
Before the war and her marriage, she had trained as a midwife and had worked as one until 1934 when she had married Charles. When she heard of an opening position for a midwife in the East End of London, she contacted the number almost immediately.
The East End was the perfect place for to be. The house had felt too cold for her now, and she needed the change. It was on the opposite side of London, far removed from her grief.
She felt a little selfish for wanting to run away from what had been tormenting her. What good did it do for anyone if she was a coward? But, she reasoned that it would be better. It hadn’t helped her the past month to relive the memories from before and she needed something to keep herself occupied.
She caught the first train to the East End first thing in the morning. Her suitcases weighed slightly, each packed with what she deemed necessary.
When she had rung Nonnatus House, the Sister-in-charge informed her that she would receive a uniform upon arrival and to be there by noon. It was a Tuesday, and they had clinic at 2 in the afternoon. ‘It would be greatly appreciated if you could help out’ said the Sister.
Louise had arrived in the East End by 11:30. Pulling out a map, she successfully found her way to Nonnatus House. She had asked a policeman on the way if she had been heading in the right direction at one point, however, and she was grateful that he told her the rest of the way.
When she finally arrived at Nonnatus, it was just before noon. The first thing she took note of was the sheer magnificence of the exterior. If she hadn’t known it was a convent, she wouldn’t have guessed it was where nuns resided.
She was only a few steps from the stairs when a bike whipped past her. A blur of blue and white crossed her vision, coming to a halt at what was presumably the bike shed a little to the sides of the stairs, It was only then that Louise realised that the blur was a nun.
The Sister looked up and over to Louise, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Greetings! You must be Mrs Newgarden, or Nurse Newgarden rather.” She walked over to where Louise was standing, and offered her hand. “I’m Sister Hilda, the Sister-in-charge at Nonnatus, we spoke over the phone.”
Louise nodded and shook the outstretched hand. “Hello, and yes, I am, I’ve only just arrived.”
“Well, you’re very welcome” Sister Hilda indicated to the door, “please come in and have some tea, and let me help you with your suitcases.”
Sister Hilda picked up a suitcase and guided Louise through Nonnatus and towards the kitchen, explaining some of the inner workings of the practice. “Most of us would have only just finished our morning rounds, and we usually have our lunch right around now.”
“How many midwives are there?”
“9 of us overall, 10 including you” Sister Hilda said, “though, one among our number is a retired midwife, Sister Monica Joan, and another 2 have joined us recently, Nurse Gilbert and Nurse Crane.”
Louise listened intently. There quite a few faces and names she had to try and remember, and she would be meeting them almost all at once.
Hopefully, she would get along with them well enough, and that they wouldn’t judge her too harshly. She was a little out of practice with how many years it had been since she had done midwifery and the East End was vastly different to the West End.
Sister Hilda seemed nice enough. They had known each other for only a matter of minutes, yet Louise found the Sister to radiate nothing but joy. It was a breath of fresh air after the confines of her grief. To have someone who seemed entirely unaffected by the negatives of life filled Louise with her own small joy.
“I’ll take you up to where your bedroom is, you can unpack and come downstairs when you’re ready” Sister Hilda smiled, taking lead up the stairs.
Nonnatus House, much like the exterior, had a large interior. Louise marvelled at the handy work of it all, taking it all in at once. It was a little rickety and worn down in quite a few areas, but Louise found she didn’t mind.
After the spotless perfection of her house in the West, it was a welcome contrast.
“Our nurses share their bedrooms, but you’ll be granted with your own bedroom as the others are occupied with the nurses already” Sister Hilda pointed towards the presumably bedroom door with her free hand. “The bathroom is just down there, it’s the only one we have so do expect a queue at times.”
Sister Hilda turned to faced the nurse behind her, eyes sympathetic. “I know it’s a tough time for you at the moment, but please, don’t feel as though you aren’t welcome; my door is always open must you need it.”
Lousie smiled warmly. A noise came from behind her and she heard voices carry through up the stairs. “Everyone seems to have arrived” Louise turned her head slightly to look down the stairs, “I’d best get unpacked if I’m to meet them all.”
Sister Hilda nodded, handing over the suitcase she had been carrying.
When Louise closed her bedroom door behind her, she sighed heavily. Perhaps she had made a mistake in coming here, but there was no turning back now. Looking around the room, she assured herself it would be alright.
She was surrounded by other women, and nothing would remind her of Charles here. She had work, something to focus on and it would fill her days. She wouldn’t be alone, not unless she wanted to. That was a choice she now had, not one forced onto her.
She could make do of herself, and with that, she got straight into unpacking. There was no reason to delay any further.