by Jess Foley
She went at midday, leaving Lily to prepare a meal for herself and the boy. The child wanted little of it, though, and after the first couple of mouthfuls turned from his plate. There was mucus coming from his nose, and Lily wiped it away. His brow was over-warm when she laid her hand upon it.
Up in the main bedroom, Lily lit the fire to air the room and the bed. Back downstairs she got the boy to lie down on the sofa, covered by the blankets. As he slept, she busied herself about the kitchen, tidying the place, washing the dishes and preparing food for the evening, all the time moving as quietly as she could, so as not to wake him. Later during the afternoon the coal merchant came with a bag of coal. Lily was relieved; at least now they could be sure of keeping warm.
She prepared an omelette later for herself and the boy, and was pleased to see him eat a little of it. But it was only a very little, and when she spoke coaxingly to him, trying to encourage him to eat more, he began to cry. He was consoled after a while, but she knew well that any such consolation could only be a passing thing.
That evening she tried again to get him to take some of the medicine, but he would have none of it, and after a few vain, coaxing words, she gave up. She changed him into his nightshirt then and took him upstairs to the bedroom, which was illuminated with one of the nightlights that Millie had brought from the chandler’s. Lily sat on the side of the bed as he lay with his stuffed rabbit in his arms. When he had fallen asleep, she continued to sit there for some minutes, then eased herself up and crept back down to the kitchen. There she sat at the table, the door to the passage open so that she would be able to hear him if he should awake and cry out.
Later, up in the bedroom, she put on her nightdress and got into bed beside him. He stirred briefly as she lowered herself onto the mattress, but then settled again. She lay on her side, her left hand light upon his small body, feeling his warmth, his nearness. With his nose congested, his breathing, usually so sweet, sounded harsh in the quiet.
Later in the night he suddenly awoke. ‘Mama,’ he said in an anxious little cry, and Lily put her arm around him and spoke to him in soft tones. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘You’ll be going to see your mama soon. Go to sleep, darling. Go to sleep. You’re safe, you’re safe.’
He moved restlessly for a little while, swallowing and sniffing, and she murmured softly to him with comforting words. After a time he settled again and fell asleep once more.
Lying in the dimly-lit room, she looked up at the ceiling, taking in the cracks and the water-stains that marked the old plaster. In her blind way she had somehow trusted that everything would work out, but nothing was happening the way she had envisaged.
On the seat of the old kitchen chair that stood beside the bed, her watch ticked the hours away into the quiet. Tomorrow, she said to herself, she would pack up their things and they would go back to Happerfell.
Next morning she could see at once that the boy was no better. In fact, it was obvious that he was worse. His nose was blocked so that he was forced to breath only through his mouth, while at the same time the mucus ran down from his nostrils and over his upper lip. Lily wiped it away and soothed his warm brow. There was no question of their travelling back to Happerfell today. She could not take him on such a journey in his present condition. The day was damp, and bitterly cold, and she could only think that he must stay indoors in the warm. If he was well enough tomorrow, they would go then.
Millie came later in the day, and tried to amuse Joshua as he sat on the sofa. He would not be diverted, though, and sat there dull and listless. When she pressed him a little he grew tearful, and she tactfully withdrew her attentions.
The longer Lily observed him the more her concern grew, and in the end she asked Millie if there was a doctor nearby. The girl replied that there was a Dr Trinshaw living not far away, and that he had visited her grandmother on two or three occasions. ‘Can you go for him?’ Lily asked her. The girl at once agreed, and went back next door to put on her hat and coat and set out on her errand. She returned some twenty minutes later saying that she had left a message at the doctor’s house, and that he would be calling round just as soon as he could.
Millie left the house again soon afterwards, leaving Lily and the boy alone. Just over an hour later there came a knock at the door, and Lily answered it and found the doctor standing in the little porch, his carriage in the road beyond the gate. Dr Trinshaw was a slim man of middle height, in his late fifties. He had bushy side whiskers and wore a dark brown ulster. She asked him to come in and led the way into the kitchen where the child still lay on the sofa.
‘Are you the boy’s mother?’ the doctor asked, looking down at Joshua.
She hesitated for the briefest moment, then said, ‘No. I – I’m his guardian for now. His parents are in Scotland.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Four and a half.’
He nodded. ‘The girl left the message that he’s poorly and has a very bad cold. Is that right? What are his symptoms?’
Lily told of the child’s raised temperature, his dry cough, his running nose and lack of energy and appetite, and added that on Sunday the two of them had got wet through in the rain. He had not been well since.
The doctor had put down his bag and taken off his coat, and Lily watched while he bent to the child. ‘And what is your name, young man?’ he said to him, smiling.
‘Joshie,’ the child said.
‘Ah, Joshie, is it? And you’re four and a half, are you?’
‘Yes. I shall be five next May.’
‘Shall you now?’ The doctor indicated the boy’s toy horse on the sofa beside him and said, ‘That looks like a fine animal. He’s yours, is he?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, very handsome indeed.’
The doctor sat on the sofa and gently unbuttoned the boy’s shirt. After he had done so he pulled the garment down from the child’s shoulder, exposing the scar on his upper arm. ‘I see he’s been vaccinated,’ he said to Lily. ‘And not so long ago.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The doctor nodded, and continued his examination, taking the boy’s pulse and sounding his lungs with a stethoscope. Joshua protested a little at first, giving a plaintive little moan, and Lily thought that he might cry, but the doctor spoke softly to him and called him by his name, and after a few moments the child relaxed and suffered the intrusion without further complaint.
The doctor’s brisk examination did not take long. When he had finished, he patted Joshua gently on the head and said to Lily, a little brusquely, that she might button up his shirt again. As she did so, he put his instruments away. There was nothing seriously wrong with the boy, he said, as he got into his coat. He was merely suffering from a chill, and would soon recover. His appetite would come back, he went on, and she should give him easily-digestible foods such as soups and porridge. He added that he would send his boy to the house with medicine for the child, and something to rub on his chest. From his bag he took a small notepad and wrote out his bill, and Lily took some of her precious funds and paid him. From his tone and his manner, she had the feeling all the time he was disapproving, that she had done wrong to call him out.
When he had put his fee away in his purse the doctor put on his hat and moved into the passage. Lily, following, said to him, ‘I was so worried about him, Doctor. I was afraid it was something worse.’
At the open front door he turned, shook his head and gave a sigh. ‘Frankly, I’m run off my feet,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind telling you, ma’am. With this dreadful plague every-body’s panicking and fearing the worst. I haven’t had a minute. Oh, it’s a terrible sickness, of course, but most of the time it’s a false alarm – a little croup, a bad chill, a bad cold, a little indigestion – but I have to come out, just the same. All winds and weathers. You can’t take any chances.’ He paused. ‘It’s not surprising you were anxious,’ he said, ‘but there’s nothing much wrong with the child that won’t be put right with a little rest, a good tonic an
d some nourishing food. And keep him warm. If you take him out, make sure he’s well wrapped up. Believe me, he’ll be as right as rain in no time. Of course, if he should get worse, then you send for me, all right?’ He touched at his hat. ‘I’ll wish you good day.’
Lily thanked him, and he turned and strode out to his carriage.
When she had closed the door behind him, she went back into the kitchen. ‘Well,’ she said to the boy, ‘the doctor’s going to send his lad with some medicine for you, Joshie. It’ll be here soon. Will you be a good boy and take it as the doctor says?’
‘Yes,’ he said, nodding.
‘That’s a good boy.’ She beamed at him, then said with a sigh, ‘I don’t think we can go back to Happerfell just yet, Joshie. The doctor says you’ve got to stay warm, so I think today we’d best not venture out.’ She bent over him and gently smoothed a hand over his fair hair. ‘He also says you’ve got to eat something. Will you do that? What do you say if I make you a little junket, eh? A little sweet, creamy junket? I know you’d like that. And maybe afterwards you could have a little bit of chocolate.’
He thought about this for a moment, then said, ‘Yes – I’d like some chocolate.’
She made the junket then, flavouring it with a little essence of vanilla from a bottle she found in one of the cupboards. As she set it to cool the doctor’s lad came to the door, bringing a bottle of medicine and a jar of unguent. She gave him a halfpenny and he went happily on his way. Back in the kitchen she smoothed some of the ointment onto the boy’s chest and then covered it with a piece of flannel she found in the bedroom cupboard. She wrapped him up warmly again and gave him a little dose of the medicine, which he swallowed while pulling a face, and then gave him a small piece of chocolate, both as a little reward and to counteract the medicine’s taste.
Later in the day Mrs Tanner sent Millie round with a pot of vegetable soup, and to Lily’s joy Joshua took some of it with a little bread. Afterwards Lily read to him from one of his storybooks that she had brought in the carpet bag. When it was time for him to go to bed she gave him a little more of the medicine, then took him upstairs and lifted him into the bed. ‘I didn’t say my prayers to gentle Jesus,’ he said, frowning, and Lily replied, ‘That won’t matter. Gentle Jesus won’t mind, not if you’re not well.’
He lay down and she tucked him in under the covers.
‘You won’t go till I’m asleep, will you?’ he said. He pulled his rabbit to him, wrapping it in his arms.
‘No, I won’t.’
He coughed a couple of times, then closed his eyes, and in the dim glow of the nightlight she sat on the side of the bed and watched over him until at last he fell asleep.
She awoke the next morning beside the boy, reached out and took up the watch from the chair and saw that it was just after seven. He had not wakened in the night, and was sleeping soundly, his mouth a little open. She lay back, listening to his breathing. It seemed a little clearer, she thought, a little easier.
She slipped out of the bed as quietly and as smoothly as she could and, putting her coat on over her nightdress, crept from the room and went down to the kitchen. There she cleared out the ashes from the range, laid and lit a new fire, and put on a kettle of water to heat. When she had washed she went upstairs and got dressed. The boy was lying sleeping as she moved quietly around in the dim grey light.
A little later, when she was down in the kitchen again, she heard him call her name, and she went back upstairs and found him sitting up in the bed. She sat beside him and ran her fingers through his soft hair. ‘Did you have a good sleep, Joshie?’ she asked.
He gave a little nod. ‘Yes.’
‘And Bunny too?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s good.’
She thought he looked better, and was convinced that his voice and breathing did indeed sound a little easier.
‘Do you feel like a little breakfast?’ she asked, and he nodded.
‘Good,’ she said, ‘then let’s get you washed and dressed – and then we’ll give you your medicine too.’
He seemed to improve further as the day wore on, and Lily watched him like a hawk every minute of the time. At breakfast he ate a soft-boiled egg with some bread and butter, accompanied by half a cup of milky tea. Also, without protest, he took more of his medicine, and suffered her to rub his chest again with the soothing balm. At one o’clock he took a little more of the soup that Mrs Tanner had sent, and immediately afterwards settled on the sofa under a blanket. Millie called round while he was sleeping, saying that she was going to the shops and would be happy to get anything that Lily required. Lily was grateful for the offer and gave the girl some money and a small list of items she needed.
When Millie returned, Joshua was still asleep, and quietly the girl helped Lily do a little work about the house, bringing in more coal and drawing fresh water from the well. When the child awoke, after sleeping for over two hours, he looked refreshed and brighter. Lily took a flannel, wetted it in warm water and wiped his face. To her increasing relief he seemed to be growing better with each passing hour, and later, when she asked him how he was feeling, he replied cheerfully that he felt well. She could only believe that what he said was the truth, for his improved condition and spirit showed in his appearance and in everything he said and did. To Millie, she remarked, ‘There, you see? Like the doctor said – it’s just a chill. He’s going to be fine in no time at all.’ To the child she said, ‘Well, there you are, master Joshua, I think you’ll be well enough to go back to Happerfell tomorrow. What do you think about that?’
He spoke up quickly. ‘I thought we were going to see the fishes,’ he said.
Millie frowned. ‘The fishes?’
‘I spoke about us going to the aquarium,’ Lily replied, then to the boy, ‘Is that what you’d like to do – go and see the fishes?’
‘You said we could,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘I did indeed. Well . . .’ she gave a nod, pleased, ‘if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.’
By the time he went to bed that night his cough had mostly gone, and his breathing was so much clearer. She watched and listened as he knelt and said his prayers. Then she tucked him into bed with his rabbit, sat with him until he had fallen asleep, and went back downstairs. When she joined him in bed later, he was sleeping soundly.
When Joshua awoke, he asked again for his mama, and Lily again explained to him that he could not go to her yet as his sister was ill. ‘Don’t you remember I told you?’ she said, and he replied, yes, he did remember. But it wouldn’t be that long, she added, and he would be going up to Scotland to be with his mama and papa again soon. He seemed to accept this, and then asked again about going to see the fishes. She was glad; she had thought he might have forgotten, but clearly he had not.
So it was that after he had taken his usual midday sleep, they set off from the house to go into the centre of the town. The weather was fine. The morning frost had gone and the sun shone down out of a clear sky. Stepping out from the gate, Lily looked down at him. ‘All right, Joshie?’ she said. ‘D’you think you’ll be all right?’
He looked up at her and smiled. He was well wrapped up in his overcoat and muffler, and wearing on his head his warm little cap with the earflaps. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Are we going now to see the fishes?’
‘We are,’ she replied. ‘We certainly are.’
They walked a little of the way, hand in hand, and then when a cab came by Lily hailed it, and they rode the rest of the way into the town centre.
The aquarium was said to be the largest of its kind in the West Country. It was housed in an elegant, cavernous old building just off the High Street, not far from the theatre. Lily had visited it while governess to the Acland girls, and it had been a wonderful, thrilling experience. Now, as she and the boy entered the first room it all came back to her, not only the sight of the great glass tanks, but also the clean smell of the place, and the silence. There were not that man
y other visitors, just a few children with adults, and she and the child had unimpeded views of the tanks and their fascinating contents. There were fish of all kinds – some so very tiny that they could barely be seen darting amongst the waving water weeds, others comparatively huge and moving slowly and ponderously back and forth through the still water. So different too in their shapes they were – some like sharp slivers of silver, and others almost as round as an india-rubber ball – and how varied in their colours and markings, some being very dull in appearance, while others were of the brightest hues and the most dramatic patterns.
Joshua was fascinated. Together, he and Lily moved from room to room, going slowly from one tank to another, and he gazed at the strange creatures before him in awe, his eyes wide in wonder. He was full of exclamations and questions, and Lily did her best to give him answers, repeatedly referring to the copperplate legends on display beside each glass tank, giving information on the creatures within.
At last they came to the end, and Lily and the boy made their way back out onto the street. Standing on the pavement, she bent to him, putting her hand on his cheek. ‘Was that good, Joshie?’
‘Oh, yes, it was good. I shall tell Mama, and Papa, and Vinnie too.’
‘Oh, yes, indeed, you must tell them all about it.’ Seeing his bright, interested little face turned up towards her own, she could only marvel at the difference in him, at the change wrought in just a day or so. She was so glad that they had gone to the aquarium. It would be something that he might remember.
Further along the street they came across a poster advertising a circus. A picture of a clown was displayed, with a painted face and comical hat. In the background were dramatic studies of a lion and a bear. Joshua came to a stop and looked curiously at the clown’s made-up features.
‘What is he?’ he asked.
‘He’s a clown,’ Lily said. ‘He’s part of the circus. He’s there to make you laugh. Children love him.’
‘Would I love him too?’ he asked, and Lily said at once, ‘Oh, you would, my dear. I know you would.’
