“What do you mean?” Cecilia asked, clearing her throat again. She took a sip of her watered ale.
Miss Hammond compressed her lips together. “That new superintendent the doctor hired set down rules when he came, and one said staff were not to socialize with patients. I didn’t think that meant me, as Dr. Worcham always told me what I did was a benefit to the ladies and their well-being.” She frowned. “Two months later, I was let go for not following his new rules, for being too friendly with my ladies. He called it insubordination, and he was going to make an example with me so the rest of the staff would know he was serious.”
Cecilia sipped her ale. “But if Dr. Worcham approved of your work, how did he allow you to be let go?” she asked.
“It was in the contract,” she said bitterly. She took a drink of ale. “The man told Dr. Worcham he would only take the position if he would have complete say as to the working of the sanatorium, like the rules, the facility staff, the provisioning, leaving all the medical to Dr. Worcham.”
“But wouldn’t your care be under the medical work done by the sanatorium?”
“That’s what Dr. Worcham said to Mr. Turnbull-Minchin, unfortunately in the staff ledger, I’m listed as a housekeeper. Dr. Worcham told me afterward he should have changed my title to nurse long ago, but never got around to it. That’s when Mrs.Worcham said they needed to give me a pension. Mr. Turnbull-Minchin reluctantly agreed.”
“A compromise,” Cecilia said. “He still got rid of you and still maintained control. The pension was a way to appease his employer without them coming to odds as to what he did—Or, I would imagine, looking too closely at the books.”
Miss Hammond snorted. “That’s the truth. But I have to admit, some of the changes he made were right ones.”
“Like what?”
“Where the provisions come from. Dr. Worcham got one supplier and never checked to see if anyone might cost less. Mr. Turnbull-Minchin, he switched the greengrocer without losing quality, maybe even improving it a mite,” she reluctantly admitted, her face scrunching.
Cecilia grinned at Miss Hammond’s reluctant admittance. It spoke to the woman’s honesty and character.
“But some of them new rules!” Miss Hammond rolled her eyes. “What, I say, is the reason to stop all staff from eating together?” She scratched her head through her cap.
“What do you mean?” Cecilia asked.
“Those that cared for the women’s side and those that cared for the men’s side.”
“So, the male and female servants couldn’t eat together,” Cecilia stated. There was some sense to that, she supposed.
The woman shook her head. “There’s men and women that work on both sides. No. Just the two groups couldn’t eat together. I can see why he said housekeeping staff and medical staff should be apart to separate those who report to Dr. Worcham from those that report to him.”
“That would be part of his control issues,” Cecilia suggested.
She nodded. “But why the separation within the housekeeping staff? Made no sense to me.”
Cecilia nodded. “I’m sure he had his reasons,” she temporized, holding her handkerchief against her lips to ward off another cough.
“I know, he didn’t see that sometimes it’s good to talk amongst us. But if he wanted us to not talk together, he’d have to stop them mingling in the garden or the library.”
“But to do that,” Cecilia suggested, “the patients would need to be separated as well.”
The woman nodded, smiling at Cecilia for understanding the crux of that issue. “Yes, my lady and that is something Dr. Worcham won’t do as he believes it is advantageous for the men and women patients to meet socially, as they might in society.”
“This Mr. Turnbull-Minchin sounds like an unusual superintendent. Do you know where he came from?”
She shook her head. “Just that he come from London.”
“Are there many patients who are long-term patients at the sanatorium like Lady Stackpoole?”
“A few, five I think, last I knew. Most patients only stay for six months to a year at most. Dr. Worcham does not want patients, or their families, to treat Camden House like a permanent residence. The doctor wants to cure people or make them better. He always said there are other institutions for life care.”
“There is a man I know of—” Cecilia began carefully.
“There you are!” they heard Mr. Price behind them. They turned to see him coming toward them, followed by James.
“Miss Hammond,” Mr. Price said, “we have a gentleman who’s taken sick upstairs. Might I prevail upon you to take a look in on him?”
“Yes. I assume the gentleman is Mr. Stackpoole?” Miss Hammond said. “Lady Branstoke said he had taken sick.”
