by Jane Jackson
‘She’s trying to poison me.’
Startled, Lucy shot Susanna a look of apology. ‘No, dear. Susanna would never harm you.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Meredith clutched at Lucy’s sleeve. ‘I know. I can hear things.’ She shrank into the pillows. ‘I want to go home,’ she whimpered. ‘I don’t like it here.’
‘Lucy?’ Susanna said softly. ‘Do you think –’
‘Keep her away!’ Meredith shrieked, her eyes bulging with terror. ‘Don’t let her come near me! She’ll bring snakes. Look, look! They’re everywhere!’ Feverishly she slapped and brushed Lucy’s skirt.
‘It’s all right, it’s all right,’ Lucy tried to catch her sister’s flailing hands.
‘Lucy, get them off!’ Meredith sobbed, her face contorted. ‘Get away from me!’ Her voice rose to a shriek.
Appalled at the speed with which Meredith’s condition was worsening, Susanna wrenched open the door and ran to her own room, grabbed her medical bag and raced back along the passage. Taking out the bottle Lucy had asked her to hide, she poured what she prayed would be the correct dose.
She knew from her books that Meredith had reached a state where even a few drops too many could prove fatal. But withholding it caused her cousin mental and physical agony. Watching such distress was harrowing enough. For Meredith, trapped inside the nightmare, it must be petrifying.
Catching sight of the glass Lucy shook her head. ‘No,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s killing her. Surely there’s some other –0’
‘I haven’t anything strong enough,’ Susanna said helplessly. ‘She should be in hospital. We must do something. The strain on her heart –’
‘All right.’ Lucy’s voice was thin with anguish. ‘If there’s no alternative …’ She knelt beside the bed, her head bowed. Ten minutes later, her frenzied terror soothed, Meredith drifted into unconsciousness.
Susanna gripped the jade disc, unable to remember a single formal prayer. All her chaotic mind could manage was please: for Meredith, for Lucy, for herself. And for Lowell. How she missed his strength, his sureness.
Lucy rose to her feet pale but calm. Through the window hate-filled howls and shouts were clearly audible above the low growl of thunder. ‘We’d better go down and find out what’s happening.’
‘I waited for hours but he refused to see me.’ Furious at the snub, Ellis was also clearly worried.
‘Did you find out why?’ Edgar asked.
‘His reason, if you can call it that, is ‘that I am harbouring enemies of the people.’
‘It is not we who are their enemies,’ Lucy cried.
‘I slipped out the back way this morning and talked to a couple of the local landlords,’ Edgar said. ‘We’ve got along OK in the past but today they were very cagey. It looks like there could be trouble.’
‘Then we must prepare ourselves.’ Ellis looked at his pocket watch and with a grunt of irritation glanced over his shoulder to the door. ‘I particularly asked for dinner to be served early. I don’t know what can be –’ He stood up quickly. ‘Will you excuse me?’ He hurried out.
Susanna and Lucy exchanged bewildered glances. Edgar watched the door. Returning a few moments later Ellis looked shaken.
‘They’ve gone. Every last one of them. This really is too much.’
‘The windows,’ Edgar muttered and hurried out. A few minutes later they heard him slamming the shutters across all the downstairs windows.
‘You don’t think they’ll attack the house?’ Lucy’s voice was slightly higher than usual.
Ellis shook his head vigorously. ‘Certainly not. The consulate is sovereign territory. Even the mandarin would not … the repercussions …’
Edgar lurched into the hall, chest heaving, sweat streaming down his face. ‘They’re trying to smash down the gate.’
Ellis stared at him. ‘I cannot believe the mandarin would allow –’
‘I reckon it’s out of his hands,’ Edgar panted. ‘I’ve bolted the front door. I’d better check the back.’
Drawing himself up Ellis took command. ‘While you’re there, fill every container you can find with fresh water.’
‘What about lamps?’
‘And food,’ Lucy added. Then her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Meredith.’
‘Let her sleep as long as possible,’ Susanna said quickly. She turned to the consul. ‘Mr Ellis, I believe Captain Hawke brought you guns?’
‘Guns?’ Lucy gasped.
He looked sharply at Susanna. ‘You’re acquainted with firearms, Miss Elliot?’
She nodded. ‘Captain Hawke insisted I learn.’
‘He what?’ Lucy was horrified.
Susanna spun round. ‘I don’t want to kill anyone, Lucy. But surely we have a right to defend ourselves?’
‘I cannot condone –’
‘Lucy, think!’ Susanna shouted above the howls of the mob pouring into the compound. ‘Who will care for Meredith if anything happens to us? And what about those people outside? How can you save their souls if you are dead?’ A chunk of masonry thudded against the shutters.
A little while later, leaving Lucy beside a stirring Meredith, Susanna felt her way over to the window and peeped out. Waving flaming torches the rioters surged all over the garden, their faces contorted with loathing as they screeched and hurled stones at the shutters.
Lowell, where are you? She could hear her heart pounding and clutched the medallion so tightly the edges cut into her palm. Fear was a sour metallic taste in her mouth. And it hurt to swallow.
Footsteps in the passage made her look round as Edgar’s lanky figure appeared in the doorway. In one hand he had a pitcher of water in the other a rifle and a box of shells.
She had to clear her throat before her voice would work normally. ‘What’s happening?’
He set the pitcher down alongside the brimming bowl he’d carried up a few minutes earlier. ‘Ellis has been shouting through the door trying to reason with them. But they’re way beyond that.’ He paused and Susanna heard loud, regular thuds. The screams outside reached a new level of ferocity that made her skin crawl and the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Handing her the rifle and shells, Edgar sketched a brief salute.
‘Wh-where are you going?’ Lucy asked. In the lamplight Susanna saw Meredith’s eyes open.
‘Downstairs. They’re trying to break through the front door.’
‘Are they going to kill us?’ Lucy asked, keeping her voice low.
‘I don’t want to hear that kind of talk, ma’am,’ he chided gently. ‘If they do manage to get in you keep real quiet, y’hear? Ellis ’n’ me’ll try and draw them to the other end of the house. I reckon we should be able to hold them off until help arrives.’
‘What help?’ Susanna demanded. ‘Mr Ellis said the mandarin had refused –’
‘Lucy?’ Meredith quavered. ‘What’s happening? Who’s that man?’ There was a loud crash and the sound of splintering wood. She screamed and sat bolt upright. ‘Lucy, I can’t see. Why is it so dark?’
As Lucy tried to reassure her Edgar dashed downstairs leaving the question of help unanswered. Susanna quickly closed the door. The torches outside cast flickering shadows on the walls. Meredith was becoming increasingly nervous, her queries louder and more shrill.
Crossing to her medical bag, Susanna measured out another small dose of chloral hydrate.
‘How much –?’
She heard Lucy’s fear. ‘Just enough to calm her. She mustn’t go back to sleep, but we have to make sure she stays quiet.’
Seizing the glass Meredith gulped down the contents. Within a few moments she sank back on the pillows.
Replacing bottle and measure in her bag Susanna opened the door a fraction. Heavy thuds and a crash were followed by the crack of a rifle. The mob roared angrily. Then came the sound of breaking glass and more yells, this time of triumph.
‘Get Meredith out of bed, Lucy,’ she whispered urgently. ‘There’s no time for her to dress. Just put a cloak round
her. Be sure you keep away from the window.’ Crouching, she opened the box of cartridges then picked up the rifle. It felt heavy, the metal cold. The bed creaked. She heard shuffling and Lucy’s reassuring murmurs. The tremor in her hands made her clumsy and she dropped a cartridge. Furious with herself she scrabbled desperately to retrieve it, biting hard on her lower lip to stop it quivering.
Shrieks and squeals were punctuated by rifle shots. The smell of smoke was growing stronger and her heart gave a sickening lurch as she heard the crackle of burning wood.
Leaning the rifle against the wall she peeped through the door again, and stopped breathing. A man was coming along the passage. Clad only in filthy baggy trousers, his naked dirt-streaked torso glistening with sweat, he pushed each door open with a bare foot then peered inside. In one hand he carried a flaming torch in the other a knife.
Frantically waving Lucy and Meredith down behind the bed Susanna felt beneath her skirt for the Derringer then pressed herself back against the wall as the door flew open.
As the man stepped in holding the torch high, Meredith let out a piercing scream. Startled, he gave a blood-curdling yell, raised the knife and lunged forward.
Pointing the tiny gun as Lowell had taught her, Susanna squeezed the trigger. The report was deafening. The man jerked. His arms flew up and the torch rolled beneath the bed as he crashed to the floor. Fire raced along the loosened bottom sheet and licked the edge of the cotton-stuffed mattress. Dropping the little gun Susanna seized the bowl of water and flung it onto the flames, extinguishing them in a hissing cloud of steam. Another yell echoed along the passage then the sound of running feet. Susanna scrambled for the Derringer as a second half-naked savage charged in followed by a third.
She fired wildly catching one in the upper arm. Throwing the little gun aside she reached for the rifle. But as the wounded man swung round on her the other raised his knife and lunged at Lucy.
‘No!’ With another piercing shriek – this time of rage – Meredith threw herself forward, fists flailing at the man’s face. Aiming the rifle Susanna fired once, twice, and both men went down. One screamed. The other gave a choking gurgle. Smoke burned the back of her throat and made her eyes water. Glimpsing flames in the passage she kicked the door shut.
Outside the noise had grown louder. Amid the howls and shouting she heard … a whinnying horse? Gunfire? There was no time to wonder. Had they survived a murderous attack only to be trapped by fire? Dropping the rifle Susanna ripped the rumpled counterpane and upper sheet from the foot of the bed where they were heaped, and poured the pitcher of water over them.
‘Quick, Lucy,’ she scooped up the sodden bedding. ‘This will protect you –’ she froze. Lucy knelt on the floor cradling her sister. The front of Meredith’s white nightgown was dark with blood; the stain growing larger with every wheezing, agonised breath.
‘Oh no,’ Susanna whispered crouching beside them.
‘It should have been me.’ Lucy was distraught. ‘He was attacking me. Meredith tried to stop him and the knife …’ She flinched as a stone crashed against the window.
‘Miss Braithwaite, Miss Elliot!’
‘Mr Hutchins?’ Lucy whispered, bewildered.
‘Outside?’ Susanna’s eyes widened. Crawling forward she peered over the sill. ‘They’re running away,’ she breathed incredulously. ‘Men with guns are driving them out of the compound. There’s a man on a horse –’
‘What men?’ Lucy didn’t seem able to take it in. ‘Soldiers?’
‘They don’t look like soldiers.’ Ragged tunics were belted over baggy trousers tucked into knee-high leggings, their heads covered by roughly bound turbans. ‘More like brigands.’ With rifles?
‘Quickly, Miss Elliot! Open the window!’
‘It is Mr Hutchins,’ Susanna gasped and after a brief struggle with the catch heaved up the lower sash.
‘Hurry,’ he shouted. ‘You must get out of there. We can’t reach you by the stairs. Use the sheets to make a rope.’
Waving acknowledgement Susanna ducked back inside.
‘Meredith won’t be able to –’ Lucy began anxiously.
‘We’ll make a sling.’ Susanna spread the thin counterpane over the soaked mattress.
Trying to ignore Meredith’s groans of agony they lifted her onto the bed. As Lucy gathered up the corners of the counterpane Susanna began knotting the sheets together. Smoke seeped, thick and choking, under the door. The crackling roar of the flames was horribly loud.
Fighting for breath Susanna tied one corner of the twisted sheet to the leg of the heavy wood-framed bed and motioned Lucy to help her drag the bed nearer the window. Leaning out she sucked in great draughts of air. Thunder rolled across the dark sky.
‘Meredith’s coming first,’ she shouted and glimpsed men passing huge jars and pitchers of water from hand to hand as they fought the blaze. There was no time to wonder who they were.
Meredith’s pain-filled moans shredded their nerves as they manoeuvred her over the sill. ‘She’s too heavy,’ Lucy wept. ‘We’ll never hold her.’
‘Yes, we will,’ Susanna gritted her teeth. ‘We have to.’ Every muscle in her back and arms quivered under the strain as they released the sheet inch by inch. She breathed in short gasps. It was too much. She couldn’t … Her muscles were tearing.
‘OK, we’ve got her!’
‘Oh, thank God,’ Lucy gulped.
Susanna pushed her cousin roughly towards the sill. ‘You next.’ She thrust the sheet into Lucy’s hands. ‘I –’ she started to cough. ‘– medical bag.’
‘Leave it, Susanna,’ Lucy cried.
Coughing too hard to reply, Susanna simply shook her head and gestured urgently for Lucy to go. Dropping to her hands and knees she felt her way to the chest, fear screaming inside her. Touching the leather she grabbed the handle, stumbled to her feet, and lurched towards the window.
She had almost reached it when the door burst open and a fireball roared across the room. She heard Lucy scream, felt searing heat across her back, and smelled her hair singeing. Hurling her bag through the window she scrambled over the sill and grabbed the sheet. She tried to go down hand over hand but the bunched cotton slithered through her palms. With no strength left to hold on she fell the last few feet, landing with a thud that jarred every bone. Ellis ran forward to help her up. Dizzy and sick she staggered towards her cousins as another peal of thunder cracked and rumbled.
Sitting on the ground, her sister’s head on her lap, Lucy smoothed damp strands of hair off Meredith’s glistening pain-racked face. ‘That was so brave. You’ve always been brave, Meredith. No one knows that better than I.’
Susanna crept up alongside Lucy, about to suggest they move Meredith under cover. Then she saw the blood-soaked counterpane.
Meredith grimaced as she fought for air then smiled wearily at her sister, her eyelids heavy.
‘Not … afraid … any … more.’ Her breath bubbled wetly in her throat. She tensed as a spasm of pain gripped her. Then, slowly, her features relaxed into the sweet smile Susanna had not seen since they left Falmouth. ‘Light,’ she whispered in wonder. ‘Lucy, it’s beautiful … so bright …’
Eyes tightly shut, lips compressed, Lucy raised her face to the sky for a moment, visibly fighting for control. Edgar Hutchins gripped her shoulder. She looked down at her sister.
‘Go on, dear,’ she urged softly, her voice warm and steady. ‘Go towards the light. He’s waiting for you.’
A heavy raindrop struck Susanna’s cheek. Another hit her back and she flinched. Over by the house the bellows of urgency changed to shouts of laughter and relief as the soft pattering grew louder, harder. She was vaguely aware of someone trying to help her to her feet. The sound of the rain grew louder and all she could see was Meredith’s face, only it wasn’t because Meredith wasn’t inside it any more, then darkness swallowed her and she was falling …
Loosely wrapped in a sheet, Susanna picked up the scissors and held them over her shoulder, winc
ing as her strained muscles objected. Her burned back was so sensitive even the tiniest movement hurt. How would she bear to put clothes on? ‘You’ll have to cut it.’
‘Oh, my dear, I wish …’ Lucy shook her head as she surveyed the scorched and shaggy remnants of Susanna’s hair. Already bathed she was wearing one of two long wide-sleeved gowns of indigo blue cotton Ellis had procured from the servants.
‘My father would consider it a fitting punishment for my vanity.’ It really didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
Though the fire had destroyed the guest wing the remainder of the consulate had suffered little damage. Daybreak had seen the servants silently back at their duties and the mandarin’s soldiers strutting back and forth past the smashed gate in their flashy uniforms. It was an empty gesture for the road outside was deserted, the trampled garden and scattered debris the only signs that a riot had occurred. From this angle it wasn’t possible to see the blackened ruins. Even the smell of wet charred wood had to compete with the fragrance of incense and the mouth-watering aromas of cooking.
They had lost everything but Susanna’s medical bag and the clothes they’d been wearing, presently being washed and pressed. Susanna’s dress was so badly scorched she wasn’t sure it would survive laundering.
Ellis had gallantly insisted on giving them his room. In the adjoining bathroom the servants were re-filling the hip-bath for Susanna.
‘You really should have woken me.’ Susanna closed her eyes as Lucy snipped. Her back throbbed and she was so stiff and sore she could barely move.
‘You needed rest.’
‘But you shouldn’t have been alone, not –’
‘I wasn’t. Mr Hutchins sat with me. He understands you see, about Meredith. His wife was a missionary too. They came out to China six years ago. She had read about conditions here and thought she knew what to expect. But the reality … She blamed herself, believed she was unworthy. After three years of struggle against the demons of fear and self-doubt, she took her own life.’
