There is a Season

by There is a Season (retail) (epu

  He did that well about calling the doctor, he thought, without frightening Grandma too much, and he knows what he’s talking about. This made him think of Lawrie and revived his fears, but fortunately sleep soon overcame him.

  Cathy was alarmed when Greg told her that he had advised calling the doctor, but he told her it was just a precaution and that the doctor might have drugs to help her father to recover.

  She found her mother quite calm about the idea. ‘I’m glad Greg suggested it,’ she said. ‘I’ve been wondering, but I don’t want old Hanson. I’ll try that new fellow in Mill Road.’

  The doctor was a keen and conscientious young man with a pleasant manner. He examined Lawrie thoroughly and complimented Sally on her nursing, then told her that the medicine he would prescribe was similar to one he prescribed for babies with croup, but stronger.

  ‘Your cough mixture has been soothing, but I’d like him to take this and these tablets three times a day.’ He turned to Lawrie. ‘We’ll soon have you right, Mr Ward,’ he said cheerfully.

  Downstairs he spoke to Cathy and Sally together. ‘The coughing has placed some strain on his heart,’ he said. ‘I’ve prescribed digitalis, and that should help him. All the right things have been done for him, the warmth, the extra pillows and light diet. Now he must rest and wait for nature and the medication to act.’

  ‘What a nice man,’ Cathy said when he had gone. ‘If they tell you what’s wrong and what they’re doing, you don’t worry half as much, do you?’

  She spoke cheerfully but the doctor’s words about her father’s heart had terrified her. Her mother said calmly, ‘Yes, I’d trust that man. Old Hanson would tell you nothing, half the time because he didn’t know himself.’

  They went up to Lawrie and found him cheerful and just as impressed with the young doctor. ‘That’s what Greg should be doing, Cath,’ he said. She shrugged.

  ‘Yes, but it wasn’t to be, and he enjoys the St John’s Ambulance work anyway.’

  Cathy wept when she told Greg of the doctor’s words.

  ‘I thought Dad was getting better,’ she said. ‘I’d no idea there was anything else wrong.’

  ‘He’s getting treatment for it now,’ Greg comforted her. ‘And don’t forget, Cath, your dad has a wonderful fighting spirit.’

  ‘He has,’ she agreed, wiping away her tears and smiling again.

  Later Greg spoke to John. ‘Grandad needs rest. I know I don’t need to tell you, John, but you should avoid talking about anything that might excite him. He’ll still need your company, though.’

  A few months earlier John would have resented even this mild advice, but now he agreed and promised to be careful in his choice of topics.

  They were all relieved to see an improvement in Lawrie’s health and he began to talk about getting up, but Sally would only say, ‘We’ll see.’ She rarely left the bedroom now except to serve meals for Josh and eat with him. Cathy looked after the house and after Josh, who was anxious to be as little trouble as possible.

  ‘D’you think your mam would like me to get a room somewhere until your dad’s better?’ he asked Cathy. ‘I don’t want to give her more worry. She’s been so good to me.’

  ‘No, Mam would go mad at the idea,’ Cathy said. ‘This is your home, Josh. I’ll see to all that’s needed.’ The old man heaved a sigh of relief. He had retired at Christmas and was happy to sit reading all day beside his fire.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  On the tenth of January there was the worst storm for many years. The wind howled round the house as Sally and John sat with Lawrie, John beside the bed and Sally sitting by the fire. She jumped back in fright as pieces of brick rattled down on to the bedroom hearth.

  Bits of brick and slate continued to fall but Sally tried to ignore them until Lawrie said, ‘Sounds as though the chimney stack’s going, girl.’

  ‘Don’t worry. It’s only plaster,’ she forced herself to say calmly.

  The curtains billowed out as the wind found every tiny crack in the window frame and the noise of it and of falling slates and bricks was deafening. Sally had to raise her voice to say to Lawrie, ‘Keep under the clothes. We can’t keep draughts out tonight.’

  ‘God help sailors,’ he said. ‘There’ll be ships and men lost tonight, Sal.’

  He looked troubled and she said, ‘Perhaps it sounds worse than it is. It often does inside the house,’ but Lawrie still looked worried.

  ‘Would you like me to stay the night, Grandma?’ John asked.

  ‘No thanks, John. We’ll be all right and you’ve got your work to go to tomorrow. I’ll get to bed myself soon.’

  John replenished the coal buckets and damped down the kitchen fire with slack before he went home. Sally went to bed. She lay for a while unable to sleep, listening to Lawrie’s uneven breathing and the pandemonium outside.

  She knew that Lawrie was still awake and after a while she said quietly, ‘Can’t you catch your sleep, Lol?’

  ‘No. I keep thinking of seamen in this,’ he said.

  ‘Put it out of your mind,’ she urged him. ‘We can’t do anything and it’s time enough to worry when we hear of lost ships.’

  ‘You’re right, Sal. You go to sleep now, girl,’ he said. She fell asleep but as always slept lightly. She woke when Lawrie moved to put his legs over the side of the bed.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she cried in alarm, jumping up and going round to stand beside him. He was sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, gasping for breath.

  ‘You’ll get your death,’ she exclaimed, trying to lift his legs back on to the bed, but he gestured weakly to let them remain as they were. Sally put her arm round him to support him and he gripped her hand.

  After a few minutes his breath became less laboured, and he allowed her to lift his legs back on to the bed and pull the bedclothes over him.

  ‘I’m sorry, girl,’ he said weakly, lying back on the pillows as though exhausted. He was shaking and Sally pulled the hot water bottle from the bed. ‘Will you be all right while I fill this, Lol?’ she asked anxiously. He nodded, unable to speak.

  He seemed a little better when she returned with the bottle, and worried that she would catch cold. ‘Get back into bed, Sal,’ he urged. ‘You must be freezing.’

  ‘I’ll make you a hot drink,’ she offered.

  But he said, ‘No, Sal. Get into bed.’ To satisfy him she climbed back in, and he tried to pull the bedclothes around her shoulders.

  ‘Lawrie, lie still,’ she exclaimed. He smiled and lay back.

  She dozed off again, but was wakened by his coughing. She went round to support him so that his body was not so shaken. He coughed almost continuously throughout the night and on two occasions had to sit with his legs out of bed, struggling for breath before falling back exhausted on the pillows.

  They were both glad when daylight came, but Sally had to suppress a cry of horror when she opened the curtains and looked down into the street. It was filled with the debris of the storm, slates and bricks and branches of trees and rubbish of all kinds. Several houses had slates and chimney pots missing. She was relieved to see that Cathy’s house was undamaged except for missing slates.

  She turned back to the bed without comment. Lawrie looked dreadful in the grey morning light, with patches of red on his sunken cheeks, and grey and hollow-eyed with exhaustion. She stirred the fire into a blaze and tucked the bedclothes firmly round him, then went downstairs and quietly opened the front door. She hurried across the road.

  Greg opened the door and drew her inside. ‘I’ll have to get back,’ she said, ‘but he’ll have to have the doctor, Greg.’

  Cathy had appeared on the stairs and he said briefly, ‘Dad’s not well, love. I’m going for the doctor.’

  Cathy ran downstairs. ‘Is he very bad, Mam?’ she asked, putting her arms round her mother.

  ‘He’s had a bad night, love,’ she said. Greg had pulled on his coat and now he took Sally’s arm.

  ‘I’ll take yo
u back and then I’ll go right away for the doctor,’ he said. Cathy said that she would dress immediately and follow them.

  Lawrie was lying quietly with his eyes closed, but he opened them and smiled at Greg. ‘All right, lad?’

  ‘Yes, Dad. The storm’s died down now. Cathy’s coming over to keep Mam company.’

  Sally followed him out of the room. ‘He’ll be all right. Don’t worry,’ he said before he set off for the doctor.

  Cathy came over within minutes and settled her mother by a bright fire in the bedroom, with a cup of tea and some toast beside her. Her father had fallen asleep again, but she refilled his hot water bottle and kept the kettle on for a drink when he woke.

  The doctor came back with Greg and Sally described what had happened during the night. When she spoke of Lawrie putting his legs out of bed, he nodded.

  ‘Can you think of any reason for the attacks?’ he asked. ‘Any exertion or distress?’

  ‘He was worried about the storm, about sailors,’ Sally said. ‘He was a seaman when he was young.’

  ‘I see. I’ll increase the tablets. Just keep him warm and quiet and I’ll look in again tomorrow,’ he said.

  When he had gone Sally began to worry about Cathy’s family. ‘Go and see to them, love,’ she urged. ‘I’ll be all right now.’

  ‘I woke Sarah, Mam, and she’s going to see to things,’ Cathy said. ‘It doesn’t matter if they all go in late after a night like that anyway.’

  ‘I wouldn’t like another like it,’ Sally said. ‘I was so worried about Dad and it sounded like all the demons of Hell let loose outside. Thank God I had Greg to turn to – and you as well, love.’

  ‘You should have knocked sooner. To think of you going through all that on your own, and us just across the road! I’ve put the hot water bottle in the bed in the little room. Go and have a few hours’ rest now, Mam, while Dad’s asleep.’

  Sally went to bed, and Sarah and John both called before they left for work. They went up to see their grandfather but he was peacefully asleep and they went away feeling happier about him. Cathy swept the hearth in the bedroom and kitchen, and tidied up, but she felt too restless and agitated to rest, so she took out flour and yeast and made bread. The mixing and kneading seemed to calm her nerves.

  Lawrie drifted in and out of sleep all day. Sally was up again and she gave him some beef tea from a feeding cup but he refused the baked custard she had made. Cathy put a hotpot in the oven in her own house and made a meat and potato pie for her mother and Josh.

  ‘You’ve got to eat, Mam,’ she told her mother. ‘If only to keep the cold out, and keep Josh company.’

  Throughout the afternoon Cathy and Sally sat in the bedroom with Lawrie. The storm had died away and it was quiet and peaceful in the warm bedroom, lit only by the light from the fire and a shaded lamp. Lawrie woke from time to time and they talked quietly to him. The smell of the baking bread had filled the house, and Lawrie breathed it in. ‘Ah, bread baking. I love that smell,’ he said. It’s one of the first things I remember – my mother taking bread out of the oven.’

  Kate and Mick arrived home from school and came up to see their grandfather, then Kate went down to Josh and Mick went home to do homework.

  Later Cathy went home to attend to the family’s meal, then they all came back again. Sally had moved from the fire and was sitting holding Lawrie’s hand. His breathing was more even and he smiled at them as they each kissed him.

  ‘I’ve picked the best spec, haven’t I?’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m even better off than our Mary.’

  A letter from Mary and Sam had arrived, in which they said they were glad to know that Lawrie’s cough was better, and spoke about swimming in their pool and having beach parties. Lawrie referred several times to the letter.

  A little later Peggy came in and crept upstairs to offer to take Kate to sleep with Meg. Greg lifted Kate to kiss her grandfather, then Peggy took her away.

  As midnight approached Mick became sleepy and Cathy told him to go to sleep in the bed in the small bedroom.

  ‘Say goodbye to Grandad, Mick,’ Greg said quietly. Mick gasped and opened his eyes wide, but he gave no other sign, only bent over Lawrie and kissed him gently.

  ‘Goodnight, Grandad,’ he whispered.

  ‘Goodnight, lad. Clever lad, Mick – go far,’ Lawrie murmured.

  John had moved to allow Mick nearer the bed, but as his brother moved away John hesitated and glanced at his mother. ‘Mum?’ he said.

  She said gently, ‘Stay there, son,’ and he sat down again beside his grandfather and took his left hand.

  Lawrie’s breathing was again shallow and uneven, and even the slight effort of speaking to Mick seemed to have exhausted him. He lay back on his pillows with closed eyes and Sally and John sat on either side of him, holding his hands. Greg stood between Cathy and Sarah beside the bed, with an arm round each of them.

  Sally’s head was on the pillow beside Lawrie’s and he turned his face to hers. She kissed him and laid her free hand on his cheek. ‘Rest now, lad,’ she said.

  He opened his eyes and looked around his family.

  ‘Your bodyguard, Sal,’ he gasped. ‘I won’t worry about you, girl.’

  John gripped his hand tightly and Lawrie looked at him and tried to smile. ‘“Falling fling the torch behind,” eh, lad?’ he said faintly. He smiled again and closed his eyes, and the only sound in the room was his rapid shallow breathing.

  Nearly an hour passed then Lawrie stirred again. ‘What time is it?’ he murmured.

  ‘Nearly half-past one, Dad,’ Cathy said. He still lay with his eyes closed but moved his face against Sally’s.

  ‘I’ll go out on the tide, girl,’ he said, his voice almost inaudible. He opened his eyes and smiled at her, the same happy smile he had given her the first time they met, then he closed his eyes and seemed to drift off to sleep again.

  He lay quietly, his breathing so gentle and faint that no one realized that it had stopped until Sally stood up and bent to kiss him.

  As quietly and tenderly as she had done they each kissed him in turn, then Cathy turned into her mother’s arms. ‘Oh Mam, Mam,’ she cried. Greg held Sarah, but John stayed holding his grandfather’s hand and staring at his beloved face, as rigid as though his own life had ceased with his grandfather’s.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Later Sally said quietly to Cathy, ‘Will you help me, love? I don’t want anyone else to do the laying out.’

  They went upstairs and Sally took some fine linen sheets from the cupboard on the landing. ‘I put these ready for whichever of us went first,’ she said. ‘I’m glad your dad went before me, Cath.’

  ‘Yes. He’d have been lost without you, Mam,’ Cathy said, putting her arm around her mother. Gently and tenderly they performed the last sad rites for Lawrie, then Greg took charge of all the arrangements. Cathy and her mother sat close together by the kitchen fire, drawing comfort from each other.

  The weather was too bitterly cold for the kitchen fire to remain unlit, so it was arranged that Lawrie’s coffin should lie in the bedroom. The undertaker’s men helped Greg to move furniture from the bedroom into the small bedroom and reorganize the room.

  Sally looked exhausted and Cathy persuaded her to lie down on the sofa, where she fell asleep. By the time she awoke, everything had been done and the men had gone.

  The bed had been pushed against the wall and the pictures covered in white cloths. In the centre of the room Lawrie lay in his coffin, with candles burning at his head and feet.

  ‘Do you want to go up now, Mam?’ Cathy asked gently. When Sally said that she would, Cathy said that she and Greg would follow her a few minutes later.

  They left Sally alone with her husband for a while then followed her upstairs. Lawrie’s face looked young and peaceful, and Sally stood looking at him with no sign of distress. Cathy struggled to suppress her own tears, ashamed to weep while her mother showed such stoicism, but her voice shook as she said, �
�It seems strange not to see him laughing.’

  Sally put her hands to her face and began to weep. Cathy swiftly moved to comfort her. ‘He looks so young,’ Sally wept. ‘Like he was before any of this.’ They clung together and Greg put his arms around both of them.

  Later they were glad that they had this quiet time with Lawrie, as the news of his death spread like wildfire and there was a constant stream of people coming to pay their respects.

  A diversity of people came during the following days. The family had known that he was well known and well liked but were amazed at the number and variety of people who came, all shocked and grief-stricken at Lawrie’s death.

  Sally received all of them with quiet dignity, showing nothing of her own bitter grief to the councillors, businessmen, churchmen and people Lawrie had helped, together with numerous friends and neighbours. It was only when a ragged woman came bringing a bunch of anemones which Sally knew she could ill afford, that Sally broke down and wept with her.

  ‘What’ll we do without him?’ the woman cried. ‘He’s kept us afloat. Not just what he give us, but he was always that cheerful and kind. No one knows—’ She sobbed, and Sally sobbed with her.

  In addition to his other duties connected with Lawrie’s death, Greg had undertaken to tell Mary and Sam the sad news. He sent a cable to Sam’s office, so that he could break the news to Mary, and followed it with a letter. The letter was brief as Greg was too busy and too grieved at Lawrie’s death to give many details, but he said that Lawrie’s end had been peaceful, with his family around him, and that Sally was bearing her loss well and being comforted by family and friends.

  Sam cabled immediately with condolences and said that a letter would follow. He must also have contacted a florist as a huge cross made of red and white flowers was delivered on the morning of the funeral.

  The fact that Sally and Lawrie, although they lived by Christian principles, never attended church had never been a problem. Open-minded and tolerant, they had always respected the beliefs of other people, and when Cathy was a child had allowed her to help their old neighbour, Mrs Malloy, to the Roman Catholic church and to stay for the Mass with her.