Page 63 of Heartbreak for the Irish Midwife

‘Help! Help!’ A man’s voice, and the tone of it struck fear into Maisie’s heart. They had reached the corner of Broadway, and a man was running up the hill in the darkness, dimly outlined via the hooded lamp in his hand.

‘What do you need?’ Alex called.

‘Somebody’s in the water. I can’t get her out! I can’t swim!’

Fear and shock rippled through Maisie, mingled with confusion. What in God’s name was happening?

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‘Where is she?’ Alex was already running towards the unknown man. ‘I can swim!’

‘Reservoir. Bottom of Broadway on the right.’ He thrust his lamp into Alex’s hand, and then Alex was gone, running down Broadway. They had all turned to follow – the girls walking quickly rather than running, to accommodate the man, who was breathless. A woman, in the water. In a reservoir. At eleven o’clock at night. This is not good.

‘Is she alive?’ As they hurried after Alex, Maureen voiced the fear they all shared.

‘She was, a couple of minutes ago. Shouting for help, she was. But the walls of the reservoir are pure straight, and I knew if I went in after her there’d be two dead instead of one. All I could think to do was run for help. Thank God you were passing – saved me having to knock doors!’

‘How come you heard her?’

‘I’m the nightwatchman in the Damask Mill. Was making my rounds out on the road when I heard the splash – that was her going in. A minute later I heard her shouting for help and I run over there, but I could do nothing for her. She’s only been in the water a few minutes. Hopefully that young fella will get her out.’

Or he might drown too. ‘How’s he supposed to do that, if the walls are smooth?’ Maisie’s tone was sharp, anxiety threatening to overcome her.

‘There’s steps over the far side, but he’d need to get your woman over to them. I couldn’t have done that meself, and she was panicking too much to be able to try and get over there.’

‘Aye. But Alex won’t know where the steps are in the dark either.’

‘No.’

They were now running, heading down Broadway – the huge Damask Mill looming over them to their left and the dark emptiness of allotments on the right. Just a couple of minutes later they entered the yard around the reservoir, which sat at the junction of the Clowney and the Blackie rivers – rivers which mostly now ran under the streets and roads of Belfast. They were both part of the Blackstaff River, which fuelled many of the old mills in West Belfast.

The sounds of splashing seemed magnified in the darkness. But was it Alex making them, or the woman? ‘Alex!’ Maisie shouted, panic beginning to rise within her. God, what if he had drowned trying to save her? What if beautiful, lovely Alex was even now lying dead at the bottom of the reservoir? Her chest hurt even thinking about it. ‘Alex!’

‘I have her!’ His voice was faint, his breath tight with effort. ‘She’s unconscious, but I think she’s still alive.’

‘This way!’ The nightwatchman had picked up the discarded lamp and was now heading to the far side of the small reservoir. He stopped, turning towards them, pale as a ghost in the hooded light of the lamp. ‘The steps are here!’

The three girls followed him, being careful not to fall into the water themselves in the darkness. Very few people round here had ever learned to swim, so they were all wary of places with deep water. How on earth had this poor woman – whoever she was – ended up in the reservoir?

A minute later the man was pulling the woman out, and then Alex – drenched – was climbing out afterwards. Maisie allowed herself to exhale, then hurried to where Alex was already working on the lady using the techniques they had all been taught, laying her on her stomach with her head on her forearm and applying pressure to her back in the hope of expelling the water from the woman’s lungs.

Maisie crouched beside him, and thankfully the nightwatchman held up the lamp to illuminate the scene more effectively. Maisie was searching for a pulse at the woman’s neck, frowning in concentration, and conscious of the water dripping from both Alex and the woman, water that was now forming a black pool around them in the cold November air. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t think about her identity right now.

‘Faint pulse,’ she declared. ‘Very slow.’

Nodding grimly, Alex continued his efforts, and a moment later the lady cough-vomited, spewing water to the ground. He sat back, listening for a moment, and then declared, ‘She’s breathing!’

Together Maisie and Alex rolled the lady on to her side, exchanging a silent glance. The woman remained in mortal danger, they knew – not only from whatever water and dirt remained in her lungs, but from the cold.

‘We’ll need to get her warmed up,’ Alex said tersely, turning to the nightwatchman. ‘Have you blankets or anything?’

‘Nothing like that, sorry.’ He paused. ‘How did you know how to do that? Like, get the water out of her.’

Alex hesitated, so Maisie said it. ‘He’s a doctor.’ Removing her coat, she placed it over the woman, and the girls added their shawls. Not enough.

The man whistled in awe, then blessed himself. ‘So you were exactly the right person to come along the road there now.’

‘I dunno about that,’ said Alex tersely. ‘She could die yet. Secondary drowning, and the cold.’