A True Love of Mine

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ replied Clara, giving a weak smile, ‘and that’s what I’m trying to do. Will has insisted that I do nothing at all today. He’s gone out on a job, but he’s taken Patrick with him instead of me. And Bella can manage very well without me in the shop.’ She gave a little chuckle, in spite of feeling so wretched. ‘In fact, I know she likes to feel that she’s in charge.’

  ‘Hmm… I had noticed,’ said Louisa with a meaningful sniff. ‘She was acting like the Queen of Sheba when I came through the shop just now, giving that young Polly the run-around. She’d put a box of gloves back in the wrong place, from what I could make out. But I didn’t stop to chat; I just said I was coming to see you. That Martin seems to have got her weighed up, though. He gave me a sly wink as I passed him. There’s no flies on him, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Yes, Martin Sadler’s a very capable assistant,’ said Clara. ‘And young Polly is shaping up very nicely. She does need to be told though, now and again.’ She was well aware that there was no love lost between Bella and Louisa. Many people seemed to find her chief assistant high-handed and ‘full of herself’ – that was often said of Bella – but Clara felt that she should try to defend her. She was, of course, an invaluable help in the shop as well as being a good friend. A loyal friend, Clara had always believed, despite knowing that her father-in-law and her daughter, also, were not too keen on the woman.

  ‘I realise Bella may seem rather…uppity,’ she said now, ‘but I really couldn’t manage without her. And she and I do get on very well. I’m afraid she will have to be in complete control until I’m feeling better. It’s not like me to give in, but Will is insisting that we should get the doctor. I’ve persuaded him to wait till tomorrow and see how I feel then, but it does seem to be more than just a cold… Don’t come too near me, Louisa. I don’t want to pass my germs on to you. It’s very good of you to come and see me.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry about me,’ said Louisa. ‘I’m as strong as an old war horse. I had a bad cold after Christmas so I don’t think I’m likely to catch another one. I met William on Eastborough, and he said you were very much under the weather. But to tell the truth, I was coming anyway… I don’t know whether you feel like discussing business matters now, do you, dear?’

  ‘Yes, why not? I mustn’t give up entirely. You want to know about the blouses you made, I dare say?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, dear. Would you like a few more? Say another half-dozen, or is that too many?’

  ‘No, not at all. We’ve only one left now. They sold like hot cakes over Christmas. Daft expression, that, isn’t it, but we always say it. Goodness knows why hot cakes should sell any better than cold ones… Yes, Louisa; we’d like six more blouses, please, if you can manage them. We have found that a lot of our garments are selling not just for mourning wear now. In fact, I was saying to William that it might be a good idea to change our name. We’ve got a new king on the throne now, haven’t we, so maybe it’s time for a change. What shall we say then? Two white ones, two lilac, and maybe two pale blue. I know it’s not a mourning colour, but like I say, maybe it’s time we bucked up our ideas a bit.’

  The blouses that Louisa made were exquisite, of fine cotton or silk, trimmed with lace or finely pleated and with a high stand-up collar, like the ones worn by the new Queen Alexandra. Clara realised she was starting to feel a little brighter as she talked with her friend, her mind being momentarily distracted from her aching head and streaming eyes and nose.

  ‘Certainly,’ said Louisa. ‘I shall be pleased to oblige. I’ll get on with them as soon as I can. I’ll probably make them all myself and let the girls get on with some of the more ordinary garments. You did know, didn’t you, that I had a big order from the Pierrot troupe, Percy Morgan’s lot?’

  ‘Yes, you did mention it a while back,’ said Clara. ‘You’re going to be kept busy, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, it seems so. They all came in to be fitted before they left last September. Same thing as usual, more or less, that’s what they want. You know; baggy trousers, frills round the neck, pom-poms and all that. I thought I might add a few nice little touches; an extra frill for the ladies or maybe a touch of lace. We’d best be getting started on them soon.’ Louisa counted on her fingers. ‘February, March, April, May… They’ll be back again in four months’ time or just over. And it’s surprising how time flies.’

  ‘Doesn’t it just?’ said Clara. ‘And this morning’s flying past, as well. Maddy will be back from school soon, ready for her dinner, and the menfolk of course. It’s really kind of you to bring the soup and everything, Louisa. You’ll stay and have some with us, won’t you?’

  Louisa had arrived armed with a basket full of goodies, like Red Riding Hood visiting her grandmother, Clara had said; a huge flask of home-made chicken soup, baked custard tarts, a dozen bread rolls and a pack of butter.

  ‘Yes, I will stay, dear,’ Louisa replied, ‘then I can see to things and wash up afterwards. I guessed from what William said that you could do with a bit of cheering up. Now, you stay just where you are and I’ll lay the table and warm the soup up. There’ll be six of us altogether, won’t there? There’s plenty to go round.’

  ‘You’re an angel of mercy,’ smiled Clara. Maddy would have helped her to put a meal of sorts together when she came home, but this was an unexpected treat. She felt tears of gratitude and affection for Louisa welling up in her eyes, but they were a sign of her weakness, too, she realised. She sniffed, trying to keep a sob out of her voice. ‘I really don’t know how to thank you… The plates and bowls are in the top cupboard and the knives and spoons in the drawer…’

  ‘Don’t you worry yourself,’ said Louisa, ‘and don’t start getting upset. I should know where everything is by now, and that’s what friends are for, to lend a helping hand when it’s needed.’

  Clara smiled fondly at the woman who was bustling around so cheerfully and energetically. Louisa had been a good friend to her for many years. She, Clara, had started out as an assistant in the dressmaker’s shop, and then, after her parents had died she had been invited to share Louisa’s home. She had stayed there until her marriage to William. Louisa had been like a second mother to her and their friendship had continued until the present day. The older woman appeared pretty much the same to Clara as she had done twenty years before. She was small and sprightly, her movements were quick and nimble, like a little sparrow, and her dark brown eyes did not miss a trick. Her once dark hair was now entirely grey, but that seemed to be the only difference.

  The rest of the family members were pleased to see Louisa and were relieved that Clara appeared to have bucked up a bit, as her husband put it.

  ‘This soup’s delicious,’ he told Louisa. ‘Just what the doctor ordered, you might say.’ He smiled at his wife. ‘I’m sure it’ll do you a power of good, Clara love. But speaking of the doctor, I still think we should let him have a look at you, just to be on the safe side.’

  ‘Let’s see how I feel in the morning, shall we, Will?’ said Clara quietly. She was not too happy at being the focus of attention, especially with regard to her health. She turned to Maddy. ‘Aunty Louisa has been telling me about the costumes she will be making for Uncle Percy and the rest of the Pierrots. That’s exciting, isn’t it? And it won’t be all that long before they’re back again. Our Maddy’s a great admirer of the Pierrots, you know, Louisa.’

  ‘Aunty Louisa…’ said Maddy – both children had always called her ‘Aunty’ – ‘…I’ve been thinking. When I leave school, d’you think I could come and work for you in your shop? And learn how to be a dressmaker, like my mam did?’

  Louisa laughed. ‘Good gracious me! You’re looking a long way ahead, aren’t you, Maddy? I don’t even know if I shall still be there in…how many years is it?’

  ‘Not all that many,’ retorted Maddy. ‘I shall be eleven in June, and it’ll only be two years after that, won’t it?’

  ‘Yes, of course you’re right,’ said Louisa
, nodding thoughtfully. ‘And there was I thinking it was ages away. Your mother and I were saying earlier, Maddy, how time flies. I dare say I might still be there in two or three years’ time, but I’m nearer seventy than sixty, you know, now.’

  ‘But nobody would think so,’ said Clara. ‘You mustn’t think of giving up, Louisa, so long as you’ve got your health and strength. Anyway, Maddy…’ She turned to her daughter. ‘What has brought this on? You haven’t mentioned to me that you would like to work for Aunty Louisa. Not that I don’t think it’s a good idea, mind.’

  ‘Oh, it’s something that me and Jessie were talking about in the summer,’ replied Maddy, ‘and it just reminded me when you said about the Pierrots’ costumes. I told Jessie that I might like to work in a shop… Not our shop,’ she added, ‘and then I remembered Aunty Louisa and that you used to work there, Mam.’

  ‘And if you are anything like your mother, Maddy – and I’m sure you are – then you would be a grand little worker. Clara was always such a godsend in the shop as well.’ Louisa smiled reminiscently. ‘So friendly and patient with the customers. A lot of them remarked about how pleasant she was.’

  ‘One of them in particular,’ said William with a chuckle. ‘That’s where I first met your mam, Maddy, but I think I’ve told you before, haven’t I?’

  ‘Many times,’ interrupted Patrick with a grimace.

  ‘Well, never mind,’ said William. ‘It’s a tale well worth the telling. Aye, there she was, standing behind the counter, so pretty and cheerful. “How can I help you, sir?” she said, and I was completely bowled over.’

  ‘Give over, Will,’ said Clara laughing. ‘Yes, Maddy; it’s something we shall bear in mind when the time comes.’

  ‘And what about your friend…Jessie, isn’t it?’ enquired Louisa. ‘What does she want to do when she leaves school?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll be staying at school till she’s sixteen,’ said Maddy. ‘She’s at a posh school, y’see, and then she thinks she’ll be going to a college to learn how to type and do something they call shorthand.’

  ‘Oh, I see. She’s got a lot of years at school still ahead of her, hasn’t she?’ said Louisa. ‘But I don’t suppose she’ll turn out to be any brighter than you, for all her book learning.’

  ‘She’s a lovely little girl,’ observed Clara, in Jessie’s defence. ‘Well, I shouldn’t really say “little” any more, should I? Maddy often reminds me that she’s not a little girl now… Yes, Jessie was a very good friend for Maddy during the summer. You had a Christmas card from her, didn’t you, love? And Will and I had one from “Edward, Faith and the children”. That’s what it said, although we didn’t meet her husband.’

  ‘Mmm…’ William nodded soberly. ‘We had to draw our own conclusions about him. Still, enough said… They were a very nice family and we enjoyed their company.’

  ‘And Jessie says they’ll be coming again this summer,’ said Maddy. ‘Her mother’s talking about it already. She sent me a letter as well as the card; Jessie, I mean, not her mam.’

  ‘So that’s something to look forward to,’ said Clara. She realised that her spirits had lifted a little and she was not coughing or blowing her nose quite as much.

  Louisa’s visit had been a pleasant diversion. Clara went to bed early that evening, convinced that she would waken the next morning feeling much better.

  But her optimism proved to be unfounded. When she woke, suddenly, in the early hours she was sweating and feverish. She lay quietly in the darkness, realising she felt wretched, but not wanting to disturb her husband, sleeping peacefully at her side. But when the pearly grey light of dawn at last stole through the curtains she was hardly able to lift her head from the pillow.

  William phoned for the doctor without delay and he was with them in less than an hour. Dr Metcalfe looked concerned when he came out of the bedroom after examining Clara. William was hovering on the threshold and the doctor beckoned to him to move out of earshot.

  ‘I am afraid your wife has contracted a rather virulent form of influenza,’ he said, as they stood together in the living room.

  ‘Oh dear, that sounds bad,’ said William. ‘She kept insisting that it was just a cold. In fact, she was so much brighter yesterday that I really felt she was over the worst. But as you can see…’ He looked keenly at the doctor. ‘Is she…seriously ill?’ he asked in a low voice.

  The doctor paused. ‘At this stage…no, I don’t think so. I am sure we can get her right again. She has had a severe cold, of course, and that hasn’t helped, but influenza is something else. It’s an infection, picked up from contact with another person. And, unfortunately, it doesn’t need to be close contact. There is a lot of it about at this time of the year, as I’m sure you will know, Mr Moon, in your profession.’

  ‘Yes, indeed. We’ve had a lot of…clients,’ William replied grimly. ‘And we can’t avoid meeting people who have coughs and colds or goodness knows what else.’

  ‘Your wife has all the usual symptoms of influenza,’ the doctor continued. ‘A sore throat and a cough and aching limbs, and her temperature is rather high. The danger is that this condition can sometimes lead to pneumonia, but that is more likely in elderly people. Your wife is generally pretty strong, isn’t she? I know you don’t often require my services.’

  ‘Yes, she’s usually in good health,’ replied William. ‘So, what can you do for her, Dr Metcalfe? Obviously she must stay in bed and keep warm…’

  ‘That is the most important thing, warmth, and bed rest – in fact she will probably sleep a lot – and plenty of hot drinks. I doubt if she will feel much like eating for a while.’

  ‘And what about medicine? Can you prescribe something to ease her cough and bring her temperature down? It worried me sick when I felt her forehead; she’s so hot she feels as though she’s on fire.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘Most certainly. As a matter of fact, I have been able to get my hands on a new drug. It’s not readily available in our country yet, but I have a contact in Germany, a fellow I was at medical school with in Edinburgh. He’s working over there now, in Munich, and we’ve always kept in touch. He keeps me up to date with any new developments, and apparently this is being hailed as a wonder drug. Acetylsalicylic acid – I think I’ve got that right, but don’t ask me to say it again! They’re calling it aspirin, for short.’

  ‘And…you can let me have some for Clara?’ asked William. ‘We’re not worried about the cost, you know. All I’m concerned about is getting her right again.’

  ‘Yes; it’s available in powder form at the moment. I’ve put some in a jar for you, with the instructions on the label. I guessed when you called me that your good lady might be suffering from influenza, so I came prepared.’ The doctor opened his black bag and took out a small jar, half filled with a white powder. ‘I’ve used it for a couple of patients with very good results. It brings the temperature down and eases the fever and the aches and pains. We’re hoping it will be in general use before long.’

  ‘It sounds wonderful,’ said William, feeling a good deal relieved already. ‘Thank you for suggesting it, and thank you for coming so promptly.’

  The doctor nodded. ‘I’m hoping there will be a big improvement in your wife’s condition before long. I’ll call again in a couple of days. In the meantime, though, if you are worried about her, please let me know.’

  ‘Thank you, I will indeed,’ replied William as he saw the doctor off the premises. ‘We’ll look after her and make sure she takes the medicine.’

  They were busy, though; extremely busy, as the airborne germ which had attacked Clara had also attacked many more other people in the town. Some of them, older and weaker than Clara, had not recovered. Isaac and Patrick were out on a job at that very moment, there was a great deal to be done in the workshop, and there were two funerals booked for later in the week.

  William hurried back to his wife’s bedside. Her face was flushed and she was sweating profusely, but her eyes were open and she smi
led when she saw him. ‘We’ll have you as right as rain in no time,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking hold of her hand. ‘Dr Metcalfe has give me a new wonder drug and I shall make sure you take it regularly.’ Clara frowned a little. ‘No… I know you’re not keen on taking medicine, but it will do you good. Now, I’m going to make you a drink of hot lemon juice and give you your first dose, and then perhaps you will sleep for a while.’ He laid his hand on her forehead which was hot and damp to his touch.

  She nodded and smiled weakly, but she had uttered hardly more than a dozen words or so since she woke that morning. He knew that her throat was painful from the way she grimaced when she swallowed, and to be so listless was not like Clara at all. He knew he would be unable to be with her as much as he would like. There was a coffin to be finished even now, and when his father and son returned there would, doubtless, be more work to be done.

  And what about their meals? They could make a scratch meal for themselves at lunchtime, although none of them – neither he nor Isaac nor Patrick – were used to helping in the kitchen, doing what they called ‘women’s work’. Maddy, though, was getting to be a very capable girl.

  When Clara had sipped at her lemon juice and taken her first dose of the new medicine he could see that she was already very drowsy. He tucked the bedclothes around her, wondering whether or not he ought to leave her on her own. He was beginning to realise how indispensable was his wife; she had always been there to see to their every need. What about their evening meals, for instance? He couldn’t expect Maddy to cope with all that. And Clara, too, would need to be attended to regularly; when she started eating again she would need nourishing food. In spite of the doctor’s reassurances and his own words to his wife that they would have her right in no time at all, William was very worried about her.

  There was someone, though, whom he knew he could turn to for help. At one time he would have dismissed the idea out of hand. How many times had he warned Clara that it was not advisable to get too friendly with Bella Randall? But in spite of his advice the two women did seem to be very good friends. He was starting to feel now that he might have been too harsh in his judgement of Bella, too anxious about what she might let slip if she felt inclined. After all, what had gone on between himself and Bella was history. It had all happened ages ago and neither of them ever referred to it.