The Married Girls

by Diney Costeloe

  Felix and Sam fetched one of the hurdles and laid it on the ground. John took off his jacket and Felix did the same. They laid them on the hurdle.

  ‘How best to lift him?’ asked Sam. ‘He may have broken ribs, landing on them stones.’

  ‘Best to move him while he’s still out,’ John said. ‘Won’t feel the pain.’

  At that moment Andy Lawrence came galloping back. ‘Rang 999,’ he shouted. ‘Ambulance on its way. Coming to the farm. Mrs Dunn phoned Doc Masters, too, and he’s coming over.’

  He looked at Rustler, now lying on his side, his eyes blank with pain. ‘I’ll deal with him, poor bugger,’ he added. ‘Mrs Dunn loaned me this.’ He took a shotgun from his saddle bag and turning his attention to Rustler said softly, ‘All right, old boy. All right. All over now...’ and pulled the trigger.

  The other horses shied at the sound and once they’d been quietened again, Sam said, ‘Right, I’ll deal with these.’ He led the horses down to the gate and hitched them to its top rail. ‘I’ll come back and fetch they when we got Billy to the farm,’ he said.

  At the sound of the single shot, Billy had twitched, but didn’t regain consciousness. Together they managed to move him onto the makeshift stretcher, covering him with Sam’s and Andy’s jackets. Carefully, the four men took a corner each and lifting the stretcher, set off across the fields towards the farmhouse half a mile away. Twice they had to put him down; twice they picked up the hurdle and moved on. Somewhere at the back of his brain, John Shepherd knew he’d done this before, carried a man on a sheep hurdle, but that time the burden was another man; that time Billy’d been there, young and strong, taking his share of the load.

  As they reached the farmhouse and carried Billy indoors, Dr Henry Masters drove into the farmyard. He followed them inside to the front room where Billy was set down, still on the hurdle, on the floor.

  ‘He’s still unconscious, Henry,’ John said. ‘He hasn’t moved. How bad is it?’

  ‘Let me have a look,’ replied Dr Masters calmly. ‘Why don’t you ask Mrs Dunn to make us all some tea while I examine him, eh?’ Gently he shooed them from the room and then turned his attention back to Billy.

  He carried out some routine checks, taking his pulse and blood pressure. He could see that Billy’s face was bruised, one of his cheeks badly grazed, mud and blood mingling. Superficial injuries to his face which would heal in time. More worrying was the blood that oozed from his ears. Dr Masters stared down at the battered and bruised body and there was a chill in his heart. He’d brought this young man into the world and he was, he knew now, in grave danger of being with him when he left it again.

  With a gentle finger he lifted each of Billy’s eyelids and, looking for a reflex to the light, shone a torch into his eyes. One pupil responded, slowly, but the other was fixed and dilated. He pressed the nerve above the eye and was rewarded with a twitch. Pinching the earlobe produced the same response, giving him some indication of the level of Billy’s unconsciousness; deep, but perhaps not perilously so. He made no effort to remove any of Billy’s clothes. He realised that his arm was broken and assumed that he probably had broken ribs as well, but those could wait until he reached hospital. There were other, more important, injuries to worry about.

  He sat down on a chair and looked at the boy lying at his feet. Not a boy any more, but a young father with a wife and children to look after. Henry Masters thought of Charlotte and her two youngsters, waiting in Wynsdown for Billy to come home and, hardened as he was to life and death, he found unexpected tears in his eyes. That girl’s already had enough to bear, he thought.

  The door opened and John Shepherd came back in. He was carrying a mug of tea which he passed over to the doctor.

  ‘How is he?’ he whispered. ‘Is he going to be all right?’

  ‘He’s badly injured, John,’ replied Dr Masters. ‘We need to get him to hospital as fast as we can. The ambulance can take him to the Bristol Royal Infirmary. They have all the latest equipment there.’

  ‘How bad?’

  ‘I think he has a fractured skull. They’ll know for sure when they X-ray him. He has other injuries too, but they, in themselves, probably aren’t life-threatening.’

  ‘But his fractured skull...?’ John left the sentence hanging.

  ‘Could be,’ said Dr Masters.

  John sank into a chair and put his head between his hands. He felt numb. His throat ached with the effort of fighting tears, of not breaking down, of remaining in control of himself. Henry Masters rested a hand on his shoulder for a moment. ‘When the ambulance arrives,’ he said, ‘I think you should go with Billy. I know he’s unconscious but even so, if you talk to him quietly as you go, who knows, at some level he may hear, know you’re there with him.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ murmured John. ‘I have to go back and tell Charlotte what’s happened. I have to break the news to her... and to Margaret.’

  ‘I can do that, John,’ Henry said firmly. ‘You should go with Billy. I’ll break the news and then drive Charlotte to the hospital.’

  ‘I’ll need to get back to Margaret,’ John said.

  ‘I know,’ Henry nodded, ‘and I’ll drive you back again when I’ve brought Charlotte in.’ He tried to sound reassuring. ‘They have the best equipment at the BRI, John. Once they’ve X-rayed they’ll know the extent of the damage and can decide what treatment is best.’

  Within ten minutes they heard the ambulance bell in the distance and moments later it turned into the farmyard, pulling up beside Dr Masters’s car. Two men jumped out and were greeted by Henry Masters, who introduced himself as the local doctor.

  ‘What have we got, then?’ one of them asked.

  ‘Man thrown from his horse onto a heap of stone-walling,’ replied Dr Masters. ‘General injuries from such a fall, but head injury as well. Deeply unconscious and bleeding from the ears, which suggests to me a basal fracture of the skull. Hope I’m wrong, but he needs to get to the BRI immediately. His father’s here and will travel with him in the ambulance. I’m going to fetch the wife and bring her into Bristol.’

  ‘Where is he now?’ asked the ambulance driver.

  ‘Indoors. They brought him in from the field on a makeshift stretcher. Despite the danger of moving him and making things worse they decided it was far too cold to leave him waiting there.’

  ‘Get the stretcher, Ed,’ said the driver, ‘and bring it indoors, sharpish.’

  ‘Right-ho, Mac,’ called Ed and disappeared inside the ambulance. Moments later the two men were in the front room, looking down at their patient. Gently they transferred him from the hurdle to the stretcher and carried him carefully out to the ambulance, strapping him securely to the stretcher and the stretcher to its rest. Ed placed small bags of sand either side of Billy’s head in an effort to keep it immobile for the journey to Bristol.

  John still hesitated, feeling it should be he who broke the news of the accident to Billy’s family. As he stood uncertainly in the yard, Felix came out and said, ‘Sam’s gone to fetch the horses, John. I’ll take Hamble back with me. He can stay in our stables overnight and you can come and fetch him when you’re ready. All right?’

  There came a call from Mac, the driver, already in his seat. ‘If you’re coming with us, Mr Shepherd, better get in. We need to get going.’

  Henry gave John a little push. ‘Go with Billy, John. I’ll tell them... and I’ll bring Charlotte.’

  Still somewhat in a daze, John clambered in through the back door of the ambulance; Ed shut it behind him and moments later they were heading out into the lane and taking the road to Bristol.

  Dr Masters stared after them for a moment and then turned and went back into the farmhouse. The three men and Mrs Dunn were gathered in the kitchen.

  ‘Did anyone see what actually happened?’ he asked as he joined them. ‘Did anyone see the actual accident?’

  ‘Not the fall, but we think we know what happened,’ said Sam. ‘We were at the back with the Linton chi
ldren, but there was a bloke who came charging past us and right through everyone in front of him, as well. Completely out of control, he was. Barry had to haul the kids out of his way. Flung hisself at the wall, he did. Lucky not to kill hisself!’

  ‘Probably pissed,’ put in Andy. ‘Saw him at the meet. He was knocking back Mabel’s stirrup cup outside the Magpie and I saw him swigging from a hip flask when we was waiting for the hounds to speak, up at Charing Coppice.’

  ‘But who was he?’ asked Felix. ‘Did you recognise him?’

  ‘Not really, but reckon I’d know him again. Fat barrel of a man in a tweed jacket and a flat cap.’

  ‘Not a hunting cap?’ suggested the doctor.

  ‘No,’ said Sam. ‘You’re supposed to wear ’em, but lots of folk don’t.’

  ‘On a skewbald, he were, hanging on for dear life,’ said Andy. ‘Shouldn’t be difficult to find.’

  ‘You think he caused the accident?’ asked the doctor.

  ‘Can’t say, not for certain,’ admitted Sam, ‘didn’t see Billy actually fall. But maybe someone else saw what happened, one of them he burst through.’

  ‘I’ll speak to the Master when we get back,’ Felix said. ‘You’ll have to tell your story to him and we’ll see where we go from there.’ He turned to Sam. ‘Thanks for fetching the horses back, Sam. I’ll take John’s with me.’

  Dr Masters thanked Mrs Dunn for the loan of her house. ‘It was very good of you to let them bring him here,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, Doctor, that weren’t no problem. Where else could they have taken the poor boy? Just sorry my Ernie weren’t here to lend a hand. Gone down to Bridgwater to look at a bull.’

  Felix thanked her too, and then went out into the yard where Archie was standing patiently with Hamble, hitched to a fence. Felix mounted Archie and taking hold of Hamble’s reins set off across the fields, to hack back to Wynsdown. He heard Dr Masters’s car pass by on the road and shuddered.

  Don’t envy him the job breaking the news to Charlotte, or to Billy’s mother, he thought. The sun had gone now and the air was dank and chilly. He quickened his pace, trotting along the bridle path that led across the hills to the slopes above Wynsdown. Felix had retrieved his jacket from where Billy had been lying on it. It was muddy and bloody and he didn’t put it back on, simply slung it over his saddle and shivered his way home.

  When he reached the village he could hear the noise and laughter coming from the Magpie and guessed that several members of the hunt had ended up there, probably completely unaware of the severity of Billy’s fall. Sir Michael’s car had gone. Clearly he hadn’t realised the seriousness of the situation either and had gone home. Felix walked the horses quietly past and went straight back to the manor. There was a light on in the hall, but otherwise the house seemed to be in complete darkness. The afternoon had slipped from dusk into darkness, and a rising wind had brought the temperature right down.

  Felix dismounted in the stable yard and led the two horses into the warmth of their stable, where he rubbed them down, fed them and refreshed their water. Archie whinnied as Felix gently stroked his neck.

  ‘You were going well, today, old boy,’ Felix murmured. ‘What a dreadful end to the day.’ He remembered Billy’s Rustler still lying out in the field. I’ll get him moved in the morning, he thought. No one to do anything about him tonight.

  With a sigh he left the stable and crossing the yard went in through the back door.

  ‘Daphne,’ he called. ‘Daph, are you there?’

  There was no reply and he wandered through into the drawing room where the fire was laid, ready for a match, in the cold fireplace. Felix struck the match and watched to make sure the flames caught the prepared kindling before going into the dining room and pouring himself a large whisky. He picked up the glass and bottle and returned to the drawing-room fire. He had no idea where Daphne could be, but for the moment he was pleased to have the house and the whisky bottle to himself.

  *

  As soon as Dr Masters reached the village he went home to find his wife. Caroline was sitting by the fire listening to the radio when he came in, but one look at his grey, drained face made her leap to her feet.

  ‘Henry!’ she cried. ‘Dearest, whatever has happened? Who was thrown? Is it bad?’

  ‘About as bad as it could be,’ Henry replied wearily. ‘It’s Billy Shepherd. He’s critically injured. If my diagnosis is right he’s a basal fracture of the skull.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Caroline asked.

  ‘It means that he’s broken his skull at its very base. It will have crushed down on to his spinal cord.’

  Caroline stared at him in horror. ‘You mean he may be paralysed?’

  ‘If he survives he’ll be paralysed from the neck down.’

  ‘If he survives!’ she echoed. ‘Oh my God! Poor Billy! Poor Charlotte! She doesn’t deserve any more sadness.’

  ‘I’ve sent John Shepherd in the ambulance with him,’ Henry told her. ‘I said I’d go and tell Charlotte. I thought perhaps you might come with me, offer her whatever comfort you can. I’m going to take her into Bristol to the hospital as soon as I can.’

  ‘Who’ll have the children?’ wondered Caroline.

  ‘Margaret, I assume.’

  ‘But she’ll want to go with you. Does she know yet?’

  ‘No, I told John I’d break it to her, too.’

  Caroline got to her feet. ‘Come on then,’ she said. ‘We’d better get it over with.’

  They got into the car and drove the few hundred yards to Blackdown House, only to find it in darkness.

  ‘They must be out somewhere,’ Caroline said when they’d knocked and rung just to be sure there was no one in. ‘Probably over at Charing Farm. We’d better go there.’

  They got back into the car and drove out of the village, taking the road that led to the farm. It was almost dark when they got there, and the light from their headlamps sweeping into the yard brought Margaret to the back door to see who it was.

  ‘Dr Masters,’ she greeted him with a smile, ‘and Mrs Masters! This is a surprise. Come your ways in.’

  Dr Masters placed a hand on her arm, stopping her at the back porch. ‘Is Charlotte here?’ he asked.

  Margaret’s smile faded and she said, ‘Yes, she and the children. What’s happened, doctor? Is it John?’

  ‘It’s Billy,’ replied the doctor. ‘I’m afraid there’s been an accident.’

  The colour drained from Margaret’s face and she sank down onto the bench beside the back door. ‘How bad?’ she whispered.

  ‘Bad enough,’ said the doctor. ‘He’s on his way to the BRI in an ambulance. John’s gone with him. I said I’d come and tell you and Charlotte; take Charlotte straight there.’

  Margaret gripped the edge of the bench for a moment and then drawing a deep breath got to her feet and said, ‘We’d better go and tell her, but not in front of Johnny. Take her out of the room.’

  They went into the kitchen and Margaret said, ‘Look who’s come to see us!’

  Charlotte and Johnny were sitting at the kitchen table with a snakes and ladders board out in front of them and both looked up with pleasure as they saw who had arrived.

  ‘Auntie Caro!’ cried Johnny in delight. ‘We’ve been playing snakes and ladders and Mummy slid all the way down a snake and I winned!’ Caroline seized the opportunity and said, ‘Can I play?’

  Johnny nodded vigorously and said, ‘But I shall win.’

  Charlotte smiled at her friend. ‘Good luck,’ she said. ‘He always seems to win!’

  Caroline sat down at the table, and as Johnny put the counters back to the beginning Margaret put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder.

  ‘Dr Masters wants a word. Shall we go into the sitting room?’

  Charlotte looked up in surprise, suddenly aware of the rigid pallor of her mother-in-law’s face.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she said, her eyes wide with anxiety. Margaret took her hand and led her from the room, foll
owed by Henry Masters.

  It seemed to Charlotte, when she looked back later, that her life had been fractured at that moment; life where she and her family sat in a warm kitchen, playing snakes and ladders, snapped short and a dark, unknowable future loomed in front of her.

  Dr Masters made her sit down and then, briefly, told her what had happened. She stared up at him, her eyes enormous in her ghostly pale face.

  ‘Is he dead?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ replied the doctor. ‘He’s been taken to the Bristol Royal Infirmary. His father’s with him and I’ve come to take you there.’

  ‘Will he die?’

  ‘I don’t know, Charlotte,’ Dr Masters replied gently. ‘All I can tell you is that he’s badly hurt, but that he’s in the best place possible.’

  ‘I must go...’ Charlotte got to her feet and headed for the door, before turning back, ‘but I can’t. I can’t leave the children.’

  ‘Don’t worry about them,’ said Margaret softly. ‘I’ll look after them. They can stay here till you get back.’ She gave her a gentle push. ‘Go. Go with Dr Masters. Billy needs you.’

  ‘Caroline will stay here with you if you’d like her to,’ the doctor suggested to Margaret. ‘When I’ve taken Charlotte to the hospital, I’ll bring John home with me.’

  Charlotte walked back into the kitchen, a smile fixed to her lips. ‘I’m just going out with Dr Masters,’ she told Johnny. ‘Auntie Caro and Gr’ma will be here with you.’

  ‘I’m winning,’ cried Johnny, shaking the dice vigorously, unaware of the change in his mother. ‘Six!’

  23

  Charlotte held herself together all the way to Bristol. She was determined not to cry. If she once started she might never stop and she knew she had to be brave for Billy. He wouldn’t want to see her with a tear-streaked face. If he were asleep when she got to the hospital she would simply sit by his bed and be ready with a smile when he woke. She didn’t ask any questions, she simply sat beside Henry Masters in the car, staring out into the darkness. Henry, recognising her need to try and assimilate what she’d just heard, drove in silence. On this cold Boxing Day evening there was almost no traffic on the roads until they reached the outskirts of the city and they were nearing the hospital before Charlotte suddenly asked, ‘Henry, where’s Rustler? What’s happened to him?’