A Rare Find: Ethel Ayres Bullymore. Donna Mann

are you saying? I mean, you’re aware that I’ve arranged passage to Canada in a short time. Is there something that can be done before then?”

      “No, there isn’t. Well, not immediately anyway.” The doctor came out from behind his desk and sat on the corner. He looked over at Elsie, then to Ethel. “What I’m going to suggest will be difficult to hear.”

      “Yes?” Ethel straightened her back. “Go on.”

      “Your family situation is very common. Individual members of a family are often sick with various conditions that need different care. Tom, for instance, needed to leave England to look after his lungs. He was still a young man with a chance to work and save for his family. But staying here with his condition, as well as continually being exposed to disease, would have limited any chance of recovery for him.”

      “I understand that. But what does that mean for Elsie?”

      “Let me continue. You should go to Canada and get yourself settled. Elsie, on the other hand, because of her health should not go, just yet.”

      “No!” Ethel stood. The chair legs screeched on the linoleum floor. “I won’t hear of it.”

      “Now, just think this through.”

      “No, Doctor Austin. I will not leave Elsie behind, if this is what you’re suggesting. And that’s final. My goodness, how could I even consider it? How could I survive being separated from her?” Ethel lowered her head. “And what would people say?”

      She quickly turned away, as if to free herself from this distressing situation. Her heart raced. She wanted this conversation to stop.

      Doctor Austin continued. “Perhaps you’re not aware of it, but people do this all the time. I have several patients who are leaving their children in England and travelling to Canada—for various reasons. Education is, of course, a big factor, and health is as well. Perhaps if you could talk to some of these people, they’d help you understand that it isn’t so terrible to want the best for your children, regardless of whether you’re the one who provides it or you arrange for someone else to do so. You just do what you have to do.”

      Ethel looked at the doctor and swallowed. He was right, of course. A family of the neighbourhood came to mind. But not her family. There’d been enough separation. She wouldn’t have it. That was final.

      “This might be all right for somebody else, but my goodness, Elsie’s only four years old. She needs me,” Ethel pleaded.

      “Yes, she does. And I’m the first to admit that being together is the ideal situation. However, we’re dealing with reality. The tests show that her condition requires special monitoring. You won’t have the same access to medical care as you’ve had here, and I feel it’s crucial to examine and watch her regularly over the next few months. Also, it’ll be extremely stressful for her to endure a long crossing, plus the ongoing tension of adjusting to a new environment.”

      “This your final word, Doctor?” Ethel asked.

      “Yes. I’m afraid it is.”

      “Then, perhaps I should consider not going? I could—”

      “I’m recommending that you go on—without Elsie for the time being. Go to Tom. You can both prepare for Elsie to join you as soon as I feel she can travel. I’ll write to you and keep you informed.”

      As though caught in a press, Ethel struggled to breathe. Tom and Elsie were the two most important people in her life. How could she tolerate separation from either one of them? Tom in Canada and Elsie here. Wherever she was, Ethel would have to be without one of the persons she loved. She sat still and closed her eyes, as if to shut out reality. Then, she gathered her skirts, walked over to Elsie and hugged her before turning towards the door.

      “Thank you, Doctor. We mustn’t keep you any longer.” Ethel’s voice broke and she continued softly, “Should you have reason to change your mind about this, please be so kind as to inform me by post at Mum’s address in Enfield.”

      “Very well. I’m sorry I couldn’t have better news for you. But I assure you, this solution is for the best.”

      Ethel nodded goodbye to the doctor and then quietly directed Elsie down the dark corridor and out into the sunlight of a summer afternoon.

      The day had grown humid, and the warm damp London air hung around them like a wet cover. They trudged along the crowded street.

      Ethel tucked Elsie’s hand into hers, feeling small fingers lace through her own. “Don’t you worry none,” she said to Elsie, juggling her bag and purse in her other hand, “we’ll work something out, sweetheart.”

      “What, Mummy?”

      “About what the doctor said.”

      “He’s playing pretend,” Elsie scoffed as she toddled along beside Ethel.

      “We’ll talk about it later, dear. Right now, we have to hurry to reach our train.”

      The engine sat belching steam, beyond the massive gateway. They quickly made their way up the steps and entered the carriage, Ethel clutching two return tickets in her hand. After finding a seat, she settled Elsie beside her. Elsie picked at the needlework on the cape of her navy serge box coat and tugged at her cotton bonnet, causing it to tip and release curls to fall around her freckled face. She wiggled in the seat, parted her cape and quickly straightened her neatly ironed bodice-dress. Wide eyed with a raised brow, she looked at her mother.

      “I’m good today, Mummy. See? I’m better, ’n’t I?” Elsie asked through tears.

      “I think you are, sweetheart.” Ethel put her arm around Elsie to give her a hug. “And that makes me happy.” Elsie’s bonnet suddenly took on the appearance of a tilted halo, and Ethel smiled.

      “I’m not sick, I’m not, Mummy,” Elsie said.

      “I’m glad you don’t have those nasty old headaches anymore,” Ethel replied.

      “My scarlet fever’s all better.”

      Ethel laughed. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been sick. Your dolly doesn’t get hugged nearly as much now that you’re feeling better.” She drew Elsie close.

      Elsie rummaged through Ethel’s bag to retrieve her doll and a couple of picture books. Ethel felt her push tightly against her side as she snuggled under her arm. After a bit of time, she stretched out on the seat and went to sleep. Ethel noticed how relaxed she looked in spite of the train’s noise and jostling.

      The doctor’s news had been harsh. It was just unthinkable. She simply couldn’t bear it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She reached over and pushed a moist lock of hair from Elsie’s brow.

      “I can’t think of life without you, Elsie,” Ethel whispered as she rested her head back against the seat. She’d be sad to leave the family, but now Elsie…it was too much. Sobs rose in her throat and she swallowed them back. Oh God, how could she do this?

      Tom’s voice echoed, “It’s a chance of a lifetime…I mean, to go to Canada with the opportunity for jobs. Everything I’ve read boasts a land of plenty. Their printed posters say it’s a perfect place to live, with plenty of land for everybody and a chance to make a good life.”

      Ethel said softly, “But, without you, Elsie, how can we even enjoy any of that? It’d be like leaving a piece of ourselves back here.”

      That’s exactly what she would be doing, and it grieved her. She sighed and longed for the quietness of her church. More than anything else now, she needed to sit in her familiar pew and ask God to help her accept this decision and do the impossible.

      3. Looking Ahead

      “Mum, I have to talk to you.” Ethel walked into the kitchen, interrupting Elizabeth Kemp’s humming as she sat at the table peeling potatoes. Elsie ran to play with Evie, her little auntie.

      “What