The Postmistress

by Maggie Sullivan

  Rosie took a long sip from her glass and shifted uncomfortably on the stool. She wasn’t sure she wanted another one. After a few minutes he went once more to the bar and this time he didn’t come back. She could see him chatting to the young man from the factory and several drinks passed between them. He occasionally glanced in her direction and smiled but he didn’t make a move. Rosie felt dreadfully exposed sitting alone at the little table because she seemed to be the only woman who was on her own. She wished she was sitting on one of the velvet banquettes at that moment, then she could have slid back into the high-sided upholstery and been hidden from view. She was surprised when, a short time later, one of the young barmaids swung the clapper of a heavy-looking bronze bell behind the bar back and forth and gave a shout for last orders. She hadn’t realised it was so late; what would her mother say? It was time they were heading home. There was a general flurry as people hurriedly got in their final round for the night and she was anxious for Trevor to come back. She could see him by the counter but she couldn’t catch his eye and she wondered if she should go without him. Then to her relief he looked in her direction.

  ‘I must go home, it’s late,’ she mouthed the words and pointed up at the clock. He nodded and gave a little wave. What seemed like only seconds later he was back with two small shot glasses of a yellowish-looking liquid that he set down on the little table.

  ‘What’s that?’ she said.

  ‘It’s what’s known as a chaser,’ he said. ‘I got us one each.’

  Rosie frowned. She had only just managed to finish her long drink.

  ‘You’re supposed to down it in one go, like this,’ Trevor said and he put the small glass to his lips and drank the contents in one gulp.

  He lifted the other glass and pushed it into Rosie’s hand. He was looking at her encouragingly. ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘I’m not sure I can,’ she protested.

  ‘Of course you can, it’s only tiny,’ he insisted and he raised the glass to her lips, making encouraging noises as she sampled a mouthful of its contents.

  Trevor laughed as Rosie spluttered and began to cough, but he tilted the glass so that she had to finish it. ‘See, it’s not hard,’ he said. ‘I told you you’d enjoy it.’

  Rosie heard calls of, ‘That’s it now, folks! Time, gentlemen, please,’ in firm tones from the man she presumed to be the landlord and people began reluctantly putting on their coats and gathering their belongings.

  It took several minutes for her to stop coughing, but by that time Trevor had helped her into her coat and they were exiting, albeit a little unsteadily, through the swing doors. When Rosie stepped outside, the clarity and freshness of the air struck her even more forcibly than the coolness of the late spring night and she took in a deep breath, glad to be free at last of the smoke and haze. The sky was pitch black and she could see clearly how it was speckled with myriad stars, backlit only by the soft glow of a small crescent moon. But, poetic as it might have looked, she wasn’t feeling in a romantic mood. If anything, she was feeling light-headed and she wondered what had been in the small glass. She took Trevor’s arm to steady herself and they hadn’t taken more than a few steps before she realised that she must actually be feeling a little tipsy. Trevor, on the other hand, was surprisingly sure-footed and she clung to his arm as they set off in the direction of her home.

  They hadn’t gone very far when Trevor stopped abruptly. He clasped her hands and gently pulled her so that she was facing him.

  Then, without a word he pressed his mouth over her lips, his tongue seeking hers. Rosie, taken by surprise, was overwhelmed by an excited stirring that began deep in the pit of her stomach and rippled through her body. She knew she should say ‘stop!’ but she couldn’t put a voice to the word, and she couldn’t prevent her body from responding instinctively. She felt his tongue rough against hers and flashes of an electric-like current continued to spark their way out to the tips of her fingers and toes. It was a kiss that took her breath away, leaving her helpless and exposed.

  ‘It’s … it’s really late; I’ve got to get back or my mother will come looking for me,’ she stammered, struggling to break the spell.

  Trevor let go of her hands and her arms fell limply by her sides. He brought his hands up to her face, stroking her cheeks, drawing her towards him until his lips formed a seal once more. But this time she pulled away. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek and a warm nuzzling in her ear. Then she heard him whisper, ‘Do you know something? I think I love you …’ not in the flippant way he’d said it before but sounding as though he meant it and she felt as if her whole body was melting.

  ‘Oh! Do you really?’ She gasped. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You could say that you love me too.’

  ‘But of course I do. I thought you’d have realised that by now. Why else would I have let you kiss me like this?’

  ‘Well, you obviously liked it,’ he said, taking her hands in his once more. ‘So how about …?’

  She felt his hands fumbling with her coat buttons but this time she pulled away sharply. ‘No! No! You mustn’t. We can’t!’ she cried and to her relief he withdrew his hands.

  ‘Nah, you’re probably right,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s be getting you home.’

  Chapter 11

  Roger was exhausted after sitting up half the night with the Bowdons.

  ‘I know it looks like a relapse,’ he’d told her father as soon as he saw Ruby, ‘and at the moment it’s impossible to diagnose exactly what’s wrong as I can’t be sure what’s brought it on. But I don’t want to waste valuable time trying to get her to the hospital, not at this stage, not while there’s still quite a lot that we can do to help her here.’

  He did know that the difficulties she had in breathing and her high temperature meant that the possibility of it developing into pneumonia was a very real threat but he preferred not to go into such details with her distraught parents right from the start. What was more important was to watch Ruby closely in the hope that the fever would break. He could only admire the way Billy and Marie Bowdon responded to his orders and he’d been grateful that they’d carried them out calmly and conscientiously though he could see they were trying hard not to panic.

  ‘The boys were woken up by the commotion when she first felt unwell. She was shouting out and crying. She seemed to be seeing creatures and figures and it was frightening the boys but we’ve sent them back to bed, hopefully to sleep,’ Marie had told him.

  ‘We’re ready to take our turn tending Ruby now,’ Billy added. ‘Just tell us what we need to do.’

  ‘Exactly what you’ve been doing already,’ Roger said. ‘The most important thing is to cool her down.’

  It wasn’t easy, as he well knew, to watch someone you loved hang on to their life by a tenuous thread but neither Billy nor Marie wanted to leave their daughter’s side. Her breathing was painful to listen to and all the while her temperature was spiking but thankfully Ruby had hung on, while her watchers muttered their silent prayers and willed her to pull through.

  It was approximately three in the morning when Roger became aware that the fever had broken; her temperature steadied and her breathing was no longer laboured. ‘The worst is over,’ he cautiously announced as he wiped her forehead and took her temperature once more. Billy exhaled noisily as if he had been holding his breath for the longest time while spontaneous tears burst forth from Marie.

  ‘I-is she really going to be all right?’ Marie hardly dared to ask.

  ‘I certainly hope so,’ Roger said. ‘I think she’s finally won the battle,’ and he turned away using the moment to wipe his own cheeks and eyes.

  He waited until he was assured that Ruby was comfortable and sleeping naturally before he left the family alone and he went home to grab what sleep he could before the breaking of the dawn.

  ‘Come on, Daddy!’ He heard someone calling and he felt someone tugging at his arm that was at odds with the vivid dream that
was swirling in his head. ‘Don’t be such a lazybones,’ the same little voice said, ‘it’s time to take me to Sunday school.’

  Roger rolled over, barely able to see his little daughter Julie through his bloodshot eyes. They felt scratchy but that didn’t stop him rubbing them awake. ‘What time is it?’ he muttered. He was trying to read the luminous dial of his bedside clock but his head was at an odd angle.

  ‘The big hand is on the twelve and the little one is on the eight,’ the young voice announced proudly. ‘Does that mean it’s eight o’clock?’

  ‘It does, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Then please can you get up and get dressed or I’m going to be late.’

  It was then that Roger realised where he was and he remembered why he’d had so little sleep. He slid his feet into his cracked leather slippers and he quickly tried to dismiss the dream as he jerked out of bed and ran down the stairs.

  ‘Any messages for me?’ he called out to his mother in the kitchen as the smell of bacon crisping up assailed his nostrils.

  ‘Mr Bowdon rang to say there’s been no change, and that Ruby was still peacefully asleep, thank goodness. He said not to wake you.’

  ‘Thank goodness indeed.’ Roger heaved a sigh of relief. ‘That was some night, I can tell you. I’ll drop in there after I’ve delivered Julie.’

  Ruby was awake by the time he got there. She looked pale and, having lost much weight during her earlier battle with polio, her cheeks were hollow but he was delighted to see that she was breathing normally and her temperature was hovering close to normal. She smiled when he entered the bedroom and struggled to sit completely upright on the pillows that were already propping up her back.

  ‘You gave us a bit of a scare last night, young lady, as your mum has no doubt told you,’ Roger said as Marie Bowdon joined him in the room. ‘I wonder what that was all about?’

  ‘I know and I’m sorry, Mum.’ Ruby reached out her hand and sounded contrite, ‘but I honestly don’t remember much about it.’

  Marie laughed as she ruffled her daughter’s hair. ‘That’s probably a blessing.’

  ‘Do you think I’ll be fit to take part in the Olympics in Helsinki next year, Dr Buckley?’ Ruby asked, and there was a naïve eagerness in her eyes as they shared the joke that warmed his heart.

  ‘No reason why not,’ Roger said, grinning down at her. ‘Unless they decide not to hold them, of course.’

  ‘Could they really do that?’ she asked.

  ‘Maybe they would do it just to spite you,’ he joked.

  ‘That would hardly be fair when you’ve gone to so much trouble to make sure I’m ready.’ Ruby did the perfect imitation of a pout.

  ‘Well, maybe it wouldn’t only be on your account,’ Roger said his smile broadening. ‘It may be that there are one or two other things going on in the world.’

  Marie laughed. ‘You might think you’re joking, Dr Buckley, but I do believe if there was an Olympic competition in roller skating being held right at this minute, then this one might well be nagging to enter,’ Marie said pointing her finger at Ruby.

  ‘Yes, indeed I’ve heard that you’re pretty nippy on those skates of yours,’ Roger said without thinking as he turned to Ruby.

  Ruby’s eyes clouded over at that and she suddenly turned her face to the wall. ‘Not anymore, I’m not.’ There was a catch in her voice.

  ‘Well, you’ll have to think of something else that you can polish up to Olympic standard instead,’ Roger said with a smile, quickly trying to cover his error.

  Ruby turned to look at him and tried to smile back but he could see, not surprisingly, that the spark of humour had gone.

  ‘Actually, you’ll have no time for the Olympics,’ Roger said. ‘I hear you’re leaving school in a few weeks.’

  ‘As soon as they break up for the summer,’ Ruby said.

  ‘It’ll be far more fun to look for a good job and to be earning some money soon,’ the doctor said.

  ‘She’s going to help her dad and me out in the shop, aren’t you, Ruby,’ Marie picked up his cue but Ruby frowned.

  ‘Not if I can find something better to do,’ she said and Roger was relieved to see her old impish grin.

  ‘Well, you never can tell,’ he said. ‘I might hear about something while I’m on my travels and if I do I’ll let you know,’ he said. He put his thermometer back in his Gladstone bag and stood up to go. ‘But maybe now’s not the time to talk about such things. You gave us all quite a fright last night, so it might be an idea to build your strength up first and get fully mobile, before you start planning seriously for the future.’

  Ruby heaved a sigh. ‘I suppose so. As mobile as I’m ever going to be.’ Roger could see her lower lip begin to tremble as she glanced in the direction of the calliper that lay on the floor at the end of her bed.

  ‘That’s up to you, Ruby,’ Roger said brightly. ‘If I know anything about you, you won’t let something like that get in your way.’

  Ruby looked at him uncertainly and he could see she was already blinking back tears. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she whispered.

  ‘But I do,’ he said cheerily. ‘Knowing you, you’ll be running around in no time. And if you promise to work at that, then I promise to have a think about what other kind of work you might like to try. Something that your mum and dad would approve of as well, of course.’

  Roger had no idea what had made him say that, for although he did have the kernel of an idea at the back of his mind, he hadn’t given it much serious thought. However, he knew he had struck the right note with his patient when he was rewarded by a classic Ruby smile.

  It was no surprise to those who knew him that Roger Buckley was the celebrity of the day in the Post Office on Monday morning, although for once the young doctor didn’t actually appear. Not that that stopped the gossip machine, for it seemed everyone had something to say about the generosity of the doctor’s actions that they all agreed marked the measure of the man they were proud to call their local GP. By dinnertime, Vicky had heard all the different opinions and theories about what had occurred after Roger had left her and her father on Saturday night, although few seemed to realise it was she who had been with him earlier in the evening. There was no doubt he was the hero of the hour, though there were so many differing versions of the story that it wasn’t easy for Vicky to separate fact from fiction.

  ‘Just fancy, he was prepared to take the Bowdons to the hospital in his own car,’ she heard someone say.

  ‘Even though he’d been out all evening.’

  ‘That’s Dr Buckley for you.’

  ‘It was well after midnight.’

  ‘I’ve always said I’d be happy for him to look after me if I ever got ill!’ This was followed by giggles.

  ‘He’s such a lovely man.’

  ‘Do anything for anyone.’

  ‘He’s a saint, never mind a man.’ The speaker made the sign of the cross.

  ‘It’s the Bowdons’s only daughter, you know …’ A new wave buzzed.

  ‘It would be such a shame if the polio’s come back …’

  A gasp. ‘Do you really think …?

  ‘And her only fourteen years old.’

  ‘Aye up, don’t write her off, she’s not dead yet, you know.’

  ‘Only thanks to the good doctor.

  ‘Course they’ve got two lads besides, have the Bowdons, so it goes without saying they’ll be desperate to make sure they’ve not caught owt.’

  ‘But a lass is always kind of special.’

  A deep sigh. ‘Even if she recovers, you’ve got to wonder …’

  ‘She’ll never be the same.’

  ‘Polio leaves its mark, you know.’

  ‘I heard they called the priest.’

  ‘I didn’t know they were …’

  ‘St Bernadette’s.’

  ‘Happen there’ll be prayers, then.’

  ‘Must have been already. I heard she’s making good progress.’

  Vicky k
new Ruby Bowdon well, before her illness she’d been a pretty little girl with a naturally bright and cheerful disposition. But she had been overindulged by her parents and most of the neighbours complained she was mischievous. Much to the annoyance of the shopkeepers on the parade, she loved nothing better than to roller skate in and out of the shops though always with a bright smile, some cheeky chit-chat and her giggles were infectious. Vicky always found it hard to get cross with her.

  That’s why everyone had been stunned when she had caught polio and had become so poorly. Vicky had prayed for her, even without going to church, and she was sure that all of Greenhill had too. She had been delighted when the news spread that Ruby had been discharged from hospital. But then Vicky discovered that she had not made a complete recovery and that she might have to wear calliper on her leg and she did wonder what the future held for the young girl, so it was particularly upsetting to hear that there had been a further setback. Vicky thought of Ruby’s parents, Billy and Marie, faced with the possibility of losing their precious child and although she couldn’t speak of it, she could empathise with the depth of their despair. It was why she had been moved to hear of Roger’s involvement last night for she knew that he understood it too.

  Ruby was actually about to turn fourteen now and would be leaving school, having missed too many lessons because of her illness to warrant staying on for another year. Vicky was greatly relieved that the conversation ended on a note of hope.

  It was a few days later before Roger was able to go to the Post Office. He was on his way home and he arrived as Vicky was beginning to lock up for the night. The closed sign was already showing through the glass pane though Vicky hadn’t yet pulled down the blinds and he could see her still moving about the shop. He waved and she opened the door and peeped out.

  ‘Anything urgent I can get you, Dr Buckley?’ Vicky said. ‘I’m a few minutes early closing up.’

  Roger had intended to talk to her there and then and be on his way, but when he saw the resignation that seemed to be etched into her tired face, he had a better idea. ‘It’s such a lovely evening, I was wondering if I could persuade you to come out for a walk a little later, to take advantage of the extra hours of daylight?’