Mrs Elgin nodded in agreement and fussed over Mary who began to wail. ‘Jimmy. I want Jimmy. Eveleen, take me home to Jimmy.’
Eveleen glanced quickly around at the others and then looked down at her mother. She was still not thinking quite rationally, but at least she seemed to be coming back into the present.
Again Eveleen knelt in front of her and though her own instincts were exactly the same as Andrew’s – she too felt the urge to shake the truth out of Mary – she managed to say calmly, ‘I’ll take you home, Mam, I promise you. But first, tell us where Bridie is.’
The wailing subsided to a quieter sob.
‘Bridie?’ Mary shook her head. ‘Poor motherless little mite. Cast out, just like me. How can Harry turn his back on his own grandchild, Eveleen? How can he do it?’
Gently Eveleen said, ‘Is that where you took her? Back to Uncle Harry?’
‘She didn’t—’ Andrew began but was hushed by both Joe Elgin and his wife.
Mary was shaking her head and now there was spirit in her action. ‘No, no. I wouldn’t take her there. Not back to him,’ she said bitterly.
‘So, where were you going?’
‘Back home,’ Mary said simply. ‘Back to Bernby where she’d be safe.’
‘Is that where she is? Back at Pear Tree Farm?’ Could they have missed finding the child earlier that day? Eveleen agonized. Had Bridie been there all the time and they’d not seen her or heard her cries?
Mary was shaking her head. ‘No. No, she got so heavy to carry and it was raining. She was hungry too. Crying and crying. She wouldn’t stop.’ She covered her face with her hands and rocked to and fro.
Cold terror seeped into Eveleen’s being. What had her mother done? Had the child’s crying driven her over the edge? Oh, what had she done? Eveleen swallowed the fear but now even she could not keep the tremble from her voice. ‘Where is she, Mam? What have you done with her?’
‘If you’ve hurt her—’ Andrew began and struggled to break free of Joe’s grasp, but the farmer still held him firmly.
‘Now, now, lad. Hold on. She’ll tell us in a minute.’
‘I left her in a barn,’ Mary began and added quickly, ‘She’s all right. She’s warm and cosy in the hay loft. I went to find some milk for her and I thought I’d be quicker if I went on my own . . .’ The faraway look was back on her face. ‘I started to walk, but I couldn’t find a farm and – and I got so tired.’ Her voice trailed away. ‘I can’t remember any more.’
Joe took up the story. ‘She did look sort of lost when we found her and she didn’t speak to us at all until you got here, but she let us bring her in here and look after her.’
‘Where’s the barn? Where have you left her?’ Andrew demanded.
‘It can’t be far away. We’ll find her,’ Joe said with more determination than either Eveleen or Andrew could feel.
Eveleen was the first to reach the door. She flung it wide and rushed out into the yard, straight into Richard’s arms.
Fifty-Five
The local police and all the men from the neighbouring farms joined in the search and, after four hours, the child was found in an isolated barn in the corner of a field.
‘I heard her crying,’ the searcher placed the child tenderly into Eveleen’s arms. ‘She’s hungry, poor little thing. But she was cosy and warm.’
Andrew hovered close by, peering over Eveleen’s shoulders, itching to hold Bridie himself. ‘Is she all right? Has she hurt her?’
‘Of course she hasn’t hurt her,’ Eveleen snapped, but even she was thankful to feel the baby wriggling in her arms.
Richard put his arm around Eveleen’s shoulders and gently led her to the trap. ‘Let’s get her back to the Elgins’ farm.’
When they arrived back, the doctor was with Mary. He examined Bridie too and pronounced her fit and well, but ravenous. Drawing Eveleen to one side he said, ‘I’m concerned about your mother. Physically she’s taken no harm, but I’m not happy about her state of mind. I’ve arranged with Mrs Elgin for her to stay here and I’ll call each day. Good food, fresh air and plenty of rest should work wonders, but I want to be sure.’
Eveleen bit her lip but nodded agreement. She would worry about how to pay the doctor’s bills later.
‘And you, young lady,’ he said with pretended severity, ‘should take the same prescription.’
Eveleen felt as if her legs would give way any moment, but she managed to say, ‘I’ll be fine, Doctor, thank you.’
It was not Bridie, or even Mary, who took a chill and developed pneumonia, but Eveleen.
After a few days’ rest and being cosseted by the farmer’s wife, whose name they learned was Sarah, Mary and the child were fine, as the doctor had predicted.
‘I just wanted to go home,’ Mary said tearfully, when Eveleen sat beside the bed in the big room at the rambling farmhouse and took her mother’s hand.
‘It’s all right, Mam,’ she said gently. ‘You’re both safe now. That’s all that matters.’
‘Yes, but I shouldn’t have taken the bairn with me. I – I might have lost her, like – like . . .’ Her voice petered away and Eveleen knew she was thinking of that other tiny baby so long ago.
‘It’s over now,’ Eveleen patted her hand. ‘We’ll say no more about it.’ But as her mother drifted into sleep, Eveleen began to worry again.
I must get her back to the country. Somehow I must or else this could happen again.
When she could see that her mother was sleeping peacefully, Eveleen slipped out of the room and went downstairs. As she entered the warm kitchen, she felt suddenly dizzy. She clutched at a chair for support, but there were wavy lines in front of her eyes. The room began to swim around her and then she felt herself falling.
She awoke to find herself lying in a huge bed. The room and the bed were warm, for beside her in the bed were four heated bricks wrapped in scraps of blanket, and a cracking fire burned in the grate, the flames leaping and casting dancing shadows on the walls and ceiling. Yet Eveleen was shivering with chills that felt as if someone was pouring cold water down her back.
A shadow rose out of a deep armchair near the window and came towards the bed.
‘Eveleen?’ a deep voice said and a cool hand rested on her forehead.
‘Andrew?’ she said and heard the name spoken in a croak. Was that really her voice?
‘No,’ the voice came again. ‘It’s Richard.’
‘I’m so sorry . . .’ she began, but it was difficult to speak. She felt as if she were breathing through cotton wool. ‘I didn’t – thank you properly.’
‘Don’t try to talk. You must rest. But first, if you can sit up a little, you must drink this. The doctor said—’
‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘A doctor. I can’t—’
‘Now listen,’ his tone was still gentle, but firm now. ‘You’re not to worry about a thing. Your mother and the child are fine. They haven’t taken any harm for their adventure. But you must take care and get yourself well again.’
‘Where am I?’
‘At the Elgins’ farm. You remember, the kind farmer who gave us breakfast that day and who later found your mother?’
‘Mm.’ Talking made her breathless and there was a pain in her chest when she tried to breathe deeply. ‘But I can’t lie – here,’ she said in staccato gasps. ‘I must—’
‘You can lie here, Eveleen. And there is nothing you have to do except rest and get well again. Everything is taken care of.’
Her mind was playing funny tricks on her. Why was Richard Stokes, her employer, sitting on the bed beside her and holding her hand? Now he was slipping his arm beneath her shoulders and easing her up and holding a cup of warm liquid to her mouth.
She began to cough and the pain in her chest was worse. She shivered again, yet her head felt as if it was burning.
‘Don’t lift my feet up,’ she murmured. ‘It feels funny.’
‘I’m not touching your feet,’ the voice said, but it sounded faint now
. Eveleen closed her eyes. ‘I must get up,’ she murmured, but her limbs felt like lead. ‘I must go to work.’
Her mind was playing funny tricks with her. She seemed to hear her father’s voice calling her from a distance. ‘Eveleen. Eveleen.’
There was a bright light and she tried to run towards it. ‘I’m coming, Dad. Wait for me. I’m coming . . .’
But the light disappeared as suddenly as it had come and she was tossing and turning in the bed again. She felt something cool bathing her forehead and a voice that said soothingly, ‘Try to sleep, my love. I’m here and I’m not going to go away. Don’t worry about a thing.’
The voice lulled her. She felt secure and cared for. It was a wonderful feeling, she thought, as she drifted away, to have someone looking after her for a change.
Her sleep was fitful and disturbed by dreams. She felt as if someone was lifting her up in strong arms and then there was a woman’s voice and capable hands were taking off her nightdress and pulling on a warm, dry one.
‘She’s wringing wet, poor lass,’ the woman’s voice said. ‘We ought to get the doctor to take another look at her.’
‘No, no,’ Eveleen tried to say. ‘I can’t afford a doctor.’
Then there were other voices in the rooms. A man’s voice and he was pressing something round and cold against her chest and bending over her as if listening intently. She tried to speak but her throat was dry and her lips cracked and sore. And her head ached dreadfully. The man had moved away from the bed and was talking softly to someone else in the room.
Eveleen tried to speak, but all she could hear was this strange mumbling, a jumble of words that made no sense. Her mind was drifting, not thinking clearly.
In the end she gave up trying. She closed her eyes and slept.
The next time she woke up, she felt better. She didn’t feel as if her whole body was burning and yet shivery at the same time. At least she was not having nightmares any more. Strange, muddled dreams where she was running and running but her legs would not seem to move because she was dragging a heavy weight behind her. But now her head did not hurt so much and her thoughts were clearer.
She pulled herself up in the bed and saw that although sunlight streamed in through the window, a fire still burned brightly in the grate. At her movement, Richard rose from the chair by the window and came to stand beside the bed.
She tried to smile at him. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’
There were dark lines of tiredness beneath his eyes and a day’s growth of stubble shadowed his face.
‘Looking after you.’ He smiled and some of his anxiety lifted. ‘Mind you,’ his smile broadened. ‘I don’t seem to be making a very good job of it. You look awful.’
‘Thanks,’ Eveleen said and heard for herself that her voice was stronger. ‘I feel it.’
The bed creaked as he sat down beside her. To her surprise he reached over and laid his hand on her forehead.
‘Thank God,’ he murmured more to himself than to her. ‘The fever’s broken.’
‘I’m still hot.’
‘Yes, but you’re sweating it out now. Not burning up. That’s a good sign.’
‘Is it?’ she managed to say with a tremulous smile. ‘I’ll believe you.’
‘I wish you would,’ he murmured, and she had the feeling that he was not just referring to the state of her health.
‘Are they all right? My mother and Bridie.’
He sat quietly, watching her for a few moments before he said softly, ‘They’re fine.’
‘How long have I been here?’
‘Five days.’
‘Five days!’
If her weakened body had let her she would have leapt up there and then in horror. As it was, she tried to pull herself up but found she was as weak as a new-born kitten.
She groaned as she fell back against the soft pillows. Before she had thought to whom she was speaking, for her mind was still a little slow to work properly, she said, ‘Oh, I’ll lose me job.’
She heard his soft chuckle. ‘I don’t think so. But if you do, I’ll have something to say to the boss.’
She realized then and could laugh at herself. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight.’
She felt him pat her hand and then he got up. ‘Now that you’re on the mend, I must get back home.’
She looked up at him, standing so tall over her. ‘You mean – you’ve been here all the time?’
He nodded but then, before she could say more, he said briskly, ‘But now I must go. I’ll come and see you again and if’ – he wagged his finger at her now with mock severity – ‘I hear any bad reports that you are not behaving yourself, I’ll bring a big stick.’
Before she could say any more he had left the room and she heard his footsteps running lightly down the stairs.
And I still haven’t thanked him, she thought.
Fifty-Six
Eveleen slept for a while and awoke to find Sarah Elgin bending over her.
‘You’re feeling better.’ It was as much a statement as a question.
Eveleen nodded but immediately wanted to know, ‘Mam and Bridie?’
‘They’re fine and thriving. Your mother’s churning butter in the dairy and singing at the top of her voice.’
‘Churning?’ Eveleen began and then, amazed, added, ‘And singing?’
‘Yes, singing. And little Bridie’s outside in the sunshine. I got my Joe to fetch the old perambulator down from the loft in the barn. We’ve cleaned it up and even painted it. And she loves it. Just lies there gurgling and crowing all day long.’
‘I seem to have missed an awful lot,’ Eveleen murmured and glanced towards the window, longing to be outside in the sunshine herself.
‘You’ll soon be back downstairs with us now you’re on the mend. You’ll feel weak for a day or two, but once you start eating properly, my good food and this lovely weather will help you. I can’t believe the change in the weather after all that awful rain we had.’ She crossed to the window and pushed up the sash. Warm air flowed into the room and Eveleen breathed in deeply, revelling in its fresh country air smell.
Then she was overcome by a fit of coughing, but Sarah only laughed. ‘Cough it up, lass,’ she teased, thankful to see the girl was so much better. ‘It might be a gold watch.’
Sarah had thought for a day or two that they were going to lose her. Privately the farmer’s wife believed that it was only the young man’s own determination and constant care that had pulled the girl through. Richard refused to let her go and his will power had somehow reached her even through the depths of her fever.
‘Now, let me help you out of that bed and into a chair. I’ll give you a blanket bath and then change the sheets. You’ll feel much better.’
‘A what?’
‘A blanket bath. You’ve been having them every day for the last five days. Didn’t you know?’
Eveleen shook her head. ‘I don’t seem to know much at all about the last five days.’
She soon found out what a blanket bath was and when the woman had washed her with warm water as she lay on the bed, Eveleen did indeed feel refreshed.
‘Now, let’s have you out of bed and I’ll change the sheets,’ Sarah said.
As she sat up, swung her legs to the floor and tried to stand, Eveleen was appalled at how weak and wobbly she was. She groaned aloud. ‘Oh, it’s going to take me weeks to get back to work.’
‘Don’t you be worritting about that, love.’
‘But we can’t impose on your goodness any longer,’ Eveleen began.
‘I’m loving having you all here. And your mother’s making herself useful. She’s a big help. And as for the baby, well, you can leave her here with me for good if you want.’ Then seeing Eveleen’s expression, she added hastily, ‘Only teasing, love. Of course you couldn’t bear to part with her. She’s a little darling.’
‘But you must have had so much work looking after me.’
Sarah shrugged her plump shoulde
rs. ‘Not really. That young feller did most of it.’
Startled, Eveleen stared at her. ‘He didn’t give me the blanket baths, did he?’
Sarah chuckled at the idea. ‘Oh no. I wouldn’t let him do that.’
While Sarah stripped the rumpled sheets and spread crisp, clean ones on the bed, Eveleen asked, ‘Where’s Andrew?’
‘He had to go back home, but he said he’d be back at the weekend.’ She wrinkled her forehead and added, ‘That’s tomorrow. He’ll be so pleased to see you looking better.’ Sarah chattered on. ‘And Josh is coming on Sunday.’
‘Josh? Really?’
‘Oh yes,’ Sarah looked up and winked at Eveleen. ‘He’s been here a time or two. Mind you, I think he’s coming to see your mother as much as anyone. I reckon he’s sweet on her.’
Time took a sudden tilt and for a moment Eveleen’s senses reeled. She was back in the kitchen at home – at the farm – and once again she could hear Jimmy’s voice saying, ‘I reckon Master Stephen is sweet on our Eveleen.’
‘Jimmy.’
‘What, love? What did you say?’
Not until Sarah asked the question did Eveleen realize that she had spoken his name aloud. ‘Nothing,’ she said, as her gaze went out across the flat fields. ‘I was only thinking aloud.’
As Sarah bustled about the bedroom, Eveleen sat lost in her own thoughts. For the first time for many months, she had a chance to sit and think.
Where was her brother and why had they never heard from him? He might have sent word, even if only to their mother. He knew how much Mary had always doted on him. Surely he could have spared a thought for her? Eveleen prepared herself for the shaft of impatience that usually accompanied thoughts of her rascal of a brother. But nothing came, and thinking about him she even found an amused smile twitching involuntarily at her mouth as she remembered their childhood. The scrapes he got into and how he had expected his older sister to cover for him, never to tell tales of him to their mother. It was Eveleen who always had to take the blame. He always had such a winning smile for Mary. He could wind his mother round his little finger and she would believe any story he told her.
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