‘Yes, but very rarely. It must be all of eight years since it got as far as the door. There was a tale that it once reached halfway up the landing wall; there’s a mark on the wainscoting; but my opinion is that the landing being wide was once used as a room, and the mark is where a chair rail ran round it.’
‘Well, there’s one thing, if this keeps up we shan’t see the doctor today.’
‘Perhaps that will be just as well, for I don’t think you are fit to travel yet.’
He lay back and looked at her as she busied herself at the table and he said, ‘Perhaps you’re right. Anyway, the urgency to leave has gone. And if I did return home the old fellow wouldn’t let me get down to work, so it doesn’t matter really where I recuperate, does it?’
She gathered up the soiled linen from the table and, without looking at him, she answered, ‘No, not really,’ then walked down the room; and he watched her. There was still no sway to her gown, he imagined she was even thinner than when he had that first time walked behind her up the stairs, and he wondered if there would come a day when he’d see her hips so round that her skirt would dance with each step. Strange, but he wanted to see her plump, even fat, and happy, which in a way proved something to him. He wasn’t just in love with her…he loved her.
Two
The rain did not stop, it poured incessantly all day and all night and all the following day.
Mildred had not returned home last night, nor would Roland return today because the main road beyond the hill was under water from the river.
Peg, running into the kitchen, shouted to Martha, who was putting a pan on the fire, ‘Miss Martha Mary! It’s at the bottom of the front steps; another couple of feet and it’ll be into the kitchen.’
‘Don’t worry, Peg, it’ll be all right. If the worst comes to the worst and it does come in we’ll only have to make for upstairs and stay there until it goes down.’
‘’Twas said that once it reached halfway up the landin’ wall.’
‘That was nonsense.’
‘Eeh!’ Peg now bit on her thumb. ‘We’re in a right fix, aren’t we, stuck out here in the wilds you might say, and no-one to give a hand should anythin’ happen, ’cos the doctor’s still as weak as a new-born kitten, an’ Dan not come. He couldn’t get across the river, ’cos he would have been here if he could, he would, Miss Martha Mary, he would…An’ he would have gone an’ seen to me grannie…’
‘Peg.’ Martha now went to the table where Peg was standing, her scarred hands idle for once, and she said quietly, ‘Now I’ve told you, don’t worry about your grannie. Your grannie’s a sensible woman; she would have left her cottage long before now.’
‘Aye, Miss Martha Mary. Aye, aye, she’s a sensible woman, an’ it isn’t the first time she’s been flooded, is it?’
‘No, it isn’t. Where does she usually go?’
‘Oh, to me cousin Alice’s. She’s up on the hill, not a stone’s throw from Robbie Robson’s place; not as high as them but still high enough to keep out of the river’s way.’
‘Well then, don’t worry. Now here, carry that tray into the study and I’ll take this one, and when you come back take Aunt Sophie’s tea up, then get your own, by which time we’ll be able to see if it’s necessary to take foodstuff and some hot drinks upstairs. Now go on, take the tray…’
By six o’clock in the evening Martha was as concerned as Peg about the situation, for the water had reached the top step and was seeping into the hall. Looking out through the hall window she could see nothing in it. Yesterday she had taken the precaution of putting Belle in the back field, for the ground there rose quite a bit towards the boundary, and should the animal become afraid of the water she could jump the drystone wall, or kick it down in parts. She was glad there was no other livestock to worry about.
She turned hastily from the window now, thinking, I must tell him, he must sleep upstairs tonight.
Half an hour later when Harry limped into the hall and saw the water now easing its way towards the bottom of the stairs he cast a sharp look at her as he said, ‘Have you got the necessary things up above, food, drinks, etcetera?’
‘I’ve…I’ve got it all ready to take up, but let me show you your room first.’
‘Where are my clothes?’
‘They’re upstairs. They have been sponged and pressed but I’m afraid your coat and trousers are torn in parts.’
‘That doesn’t matter, let me have them.’ The words carried his old tone; it was as if he had just come into the house on a visit and was finding that his orders had been disobeyed. ‘Where’s Peg?’
‘In the kitchen. Don’t worry I’ll get her, just come along, please.’
He now made an impatient movement but when he went to mount the stairs he had to grip hold of the balustrade and take one stair at a time.
‘Is it very painful?’ As he paused she looked down at his leg.
‘Just stiff, that’s all; it’ll wear off with use.’
When they reached the top of the stairs she went before him to her father’s room, in which Miss Harkness had left a strong odour of perfume, and when he lowered himself into a chair she said, ‘If you’ll make yourself comfortable I’ll go and bring up the food and…and the necessary things for the night.’
He nodded at her, then watched her hurrying from the room. What a situation to be in, the house flooding with water, and at the rate it was going across that hall floor it could be up to this landing in no time, and here he was almost helpless, with an ill woman on his hands, a small maid, and a very tired Martha Mary. And she was tired; the strain was showing more and more on her face every day. If she was allowed to decline at the present rate he had no doubt but that the aunt would survive her.
What a sequence of events he had experienced in this house during the last few days. And now to end up in a flood. Well, it was a good job there were attics up above, although from what he remembered of them when he attended on Dilly they were of no height, and the small windows were set on the floor. Still, let’s hope they wouldn’t be their last resort. It seemed an oversight that they hadn’t built attics over each of the wings they had stuck on this old structure.
The door opened, and Martha and Peg entered both carrying laden trays, and when they set them down on the table Peg turned towards the doctor and on a shaky laugh said, ‘Well, that lot should see us through the flood, doctor, eh? Eeh! It’s like Noah’s Ark.’
‘You’re right, Peg, we’ll likely find ourselves afloat shortly.’ He smiled at her but she didn’t smile back.
‘D’you think it’ll get this far up then, doctor?’
‘No, no; I was merely joking. But mind, you’re going to have some mess to clear up once the water goes down.’
‘Oh no, I won’t, doctor. Oh no, I won’t, ’cos I’ve told Miss Martha Mary here I’m not stayin’. No, thank you. I’m gona’ long of her, I am.’
‘Light the lamp, Peg, it’s getting quite dark.’ Martha turned to Harry and said, ‘I’ll get your clothes.’
When Martha had again left the room Harry asked, ‘Do you mean to go, Peg?’
‘Aye, I do, doctor; course, I do…I’m not stayin’ on here without her.’
‘Good for you, Peg.’
They smiled at each other.
A few minutes later when Martha brought his suit and small clothes all neatly pressed she laid them on the blanket box at the foot of the bed, saying, ‘I don’t really think there is any necessity for you to dress tonight, why not wait until the morning?’
‘I’d rather…’
‘As you wish…Come along, Peg.’
He waited until the door had closed on them, then he limped to the window and peered downwards through the slanting rain. He stared for a full minute at the first sight that looked like a great expanse of sea, then muttered, ‘Good God!’ for now he could just see the top of the door of the first outhouse that bordered the yard; by a rough calculation that would mean that the water was about up to the second
stair already.
Turning, he limped down the room and in fumbling haste got into his clothes, but by the time he had donned his coat he found it necessary to lean back against the bedpost and rest while he took stock of himself. He was as weak as a kitten; he had never felt like this in his life before. Blast young Bailey! By God, he’d make him pay for this if it was the last thing he did. Well, not so much this but for Fred. Oh yes, he’d make him pay for Fred. He had tried not to think of Fred and how he had died, for knowing Nick Bailey he couldn’t imagine that the swine would let the animal off with a mere blow on the head…But about this water. He pulled himself upright again, pressed his finger and thumb tightly against each eyeball; then rising, he went slowly towards the door and onto the landing. With one hand supporting himself against the wall, he hobbled towards the stairs and looked down almost in horror. There was water everywhere, but unlike the turbulence outside its rising was quiet, soft, sinister. As he watched a tread disappear under the grey flow he rapidly counted the rest of the stairs. There were only eight to the landing, and they were shallow steps.
He turned hastily now and shouted, ‘Martha! Martha!’
A door opened at the far end of the landing and she came running. ‘What is it? What’s the matter?’
When she reached his side he pointed down the stairs, saying, ‘It’s rising too quickly to be healthy; I think it would be wise to get up above.’
‘Into the attics?’
‘Well, look at it.’
She looked, and she gave a slight shudder but made no comment.
He took her arm as much for support as anything and turned her about, saying, ‘We’ll be safe enough up above.’
‘But…but if it reaches here it’ll mean the whole valley is flooded. They said it had been flooded once before but I didn’t believe them.’ She turned her head over her shoulder and looked towards the stairs again.
‘Come on, there’s no time to waste.’ Again his tone was abrupt, no friendliness in it. ‘You’d better get Miss Sophie up and dress her. And get Peg to take some blankets and covers upstairs, we may need them.’
She made no comment now, but hurried from him, and his voice followed her, saying, ‘And candles. Is there a lamp up there?’
She turned at Sophie’s door, saying, ‘Yes.’
‘And oil? You’d better see if it’s full…in any case we can take them from here.’
She drew in a short breath as she went into Sophie’s room. She wished he wouldn’t talk like that, so domineering; he seemed to be two distinct people. It always seemed that his manner changed for the worse when he was worried or annoyed, and now he was likely very worried, as she was, and she was tired. Oh, she was so tired. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a full night’s sleep; while her body ached for sleep her mind wouldn’t allow it.
And when the waters went down, what then? The place would be a shambles and she would not only have to see to its cleaning, but help clean it. She didn’t want to do any more work, not of any kind, she wanted to lay her body down and let it rest…together with her mind. Oh, she wanted to put her mind to rest.
‘Why are you dressing me, Martha Mary?’
‘We have to go up to the attics, dear; the river has overflowed its banks.’
‘I know; I saw the water flooding the meadow this morning.’
‘But it…it has reached the ground floor, dear. Come along now, put your arms into your blouse.’
‘But why need I be dressed, Martha Mary, to go up in the attics? I have never been dressed for a long time. Now if I intended to make a journey of course then I’d be dressed…Are we going on a journey, Martha Mary?’
‘No, Aunt Sophie, no, we’re not going on a journey, just up into the attics.’
‘It is very strange to be dressed to go into the attics.’
‘There now, you look very nice. I’ll get your coat, it may be a little chilly up there.’
She went to the wardrobe and took down a coat that had hung there for years undisturbed, except every spring when the wardrobes were washed down inside and hung with camphor; and as she took it across the room she noticed that it was even more moth-eaten than when she had handled it last. No-one had thought of throwing the coat away although Sophie had never worn it since she had taken it off when she first came into the house.
As Martha helped her into the voluptuous old-fashioned garment, Sophie persisted, ‘But why must I wear my coat if I’m not going on a journey, Martha Mary?’
‘I’ve told you, we are going up into the attics, Aunt Sophie, just in case the water rises and…and there’s no heat up there, and you know you never keep your shawl about your shoulders, so you’ll be warm in your coat.’
‘Strange. Strange.’
‘What is strange, Aunt Sophie?’
‘Many things these past few days, many things, Martha Mary. Are you afraid of the water rising?’
‘No, no, of course not.’ She lied glibly. ‘Now, there, we’re ready, come along. You take my arm as if we’re going for a walk.’
Sophie did as she was bid, but she had taken only two steps when she stopped and laughed.
‘What is it, Aunt Sophie?’
‘It’s just that you are very funny, Martha Mary, you keep reassuring me yet you are more afraid of the water than I am. I’m not afraid, do you know that? I’m not a bit afraid of the water rising. I wouldn’t be afraid because I’ve often wanted it to come right up the stairs. Do you know that? Right up the stairs, and flood my room and take me sailing away on a great wave.’
‘Don’t talk like that, Aunt Sophie. Come along now, come along.’ Martha’s voice and manner were brisk and she pressed Sophie forward along the landing and towards the attic stairs to where Harry was standing, as if waiting for them.
‘Why, hello, doctor.’ Sophie greeted him as if they were meeting on the street. ‘It’s such a long time since I saw you. Are you going on a journey too?’
‘Yes, just a short one, up into the attics. That’s it, up you go.’ And she went up and laughed quite gaily as Martha steadied her from behind.
When they all reached the top of the stairs it was to see Peg standing surrounded by blankets and kitchen utensils and trays.
‘Which room will I put them in, Miss Martha Mary?’ she asked.
‘Into the schoolroom. Aunt Sophie will go into Dilly’s room.’
‘No, I think it’s better that we all stay together.’
‘But Aunt Sophie may—’ Martha hesitated on her whispered protest, and Harry, nodding at her quickly, said, ‘Yes, yes, I know what attention Aunt Sophie may need, none better, but not one of us is likely to collapse because of it. Now do as I say, choose a room that will take us all. Where’s the schoolroom?’ He turned to Peg, and she pointed towards a door, and he lifted a lamp from a narrow shelf attached to the wall and, opening the door, went in. There were two windows set some distance apart on one wall and both began at floor level and reached no higher than his waist. He bent his aching back low and peered out of the nearer window, then turning to where Martha was now placing Sophie onto a chair, he said, ‘Where do they face, the windows?’
‘The front of the house.’
‘Where are you going?’
Martha stopped on her way to the door. ‘To bring the mattress from Dilly’s bed.’ She now glanced back towards Sophie, and he nodded at her and said, ‘Yes, yes, that’s an idea. I’ll come and help you.’
‘No, no, stay there, Peg will help. It’s only a single feather tick and not heavy.’
He made no protest for at the moment he was feeling in no condition, he told himself, to lift a single feather, let alone help with a tick full of them.
It was an hour later and Sophie was lying down on the mattress. They’d all had a cup of tea, lukewarm, but nevertheless welcomed, but not one of them had eaten anything. Martha and Peg were sitting side by side at the rickety and stained nursery table, but Harry was sitting on blankets which were placed on the floor between th
e two windows, his back supported by the wall. He said he felt more comfortable this way, and he did, for his whole body was aching, particularly his hip bone where a boot had apparently found its target a number of times.
Because of the fear he could see in Peg’s pinched face he started a jocular conversation with her, saying, ‘You know something, Peg? In years to come when you have a family round you I can hear you spinning them the yarn, saying, “Up in that attic for three weeks we were, three solid weeks without a bite.”‘
Peg gave a shaky hoot of a laugh, saying, ‘Eeh, doctor! That would be stretchin’ it, wouldn’t it? Three weeks! Three days’d be enough.’
‘Can you swim, Peg?’
‘What! Me swim, doctor? Me? Why no, I’m not a duck. No!’
‘You can’t swim, and you living near the river all your life? I’m surprised at you.’
‘The river’s not for swimmin’ in, doctor, you’ve got to go to the sea to swim. Dan an’ me are goin’ to the sea one day…Whitley Bay. It’s a long way off but we’ll land there one day. He says we will; we made up our minds.’
‘He’s right. I’m sure you will, Peg.’
He now looked from Peg to Martha, but she had her head bent as if she were dozing, yet he knew she wasn’t, and he addressed her, saying, ‘I think we’d all better settle down, and the floor’s the best place.’
When she raised her head and looked at him, he asked, ‘How much oil is left?’
‘It’ll do the night if turned low.’
‘Good.’
He now pulled himself to his feet and, turning to the window, he tried to raise the bottom sash.
‘What is it? Why are you opening the window?’ She was bending down by his side.
‘Apparently I am not opening it.’ He tugged at it, then gasped for breath. ‘It does open, doesn’t it?’
‘I…I can’t remember it being opened for years. But why?’
He cut off her question by putting his face close to hers and whispering, ‘Just because I think it’s necessary…Can you swim?’
Miss Martha Mary Crawford Page 31
