by Anna King
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‘She’s waking up! Quick, Bertie, run and fetch the Sister!’ Daisy rose from the hard bench, her face clearly showing her distress. Bending over the bed, she said softly, ‘Ruby dear, can you hear me? It’s me, Mother. Are you awake?’
‘Mum…’ The word came out as a whisper.
‘It’s all right, dear. Don’t try and talk, everything’s going to be all right,’ Daisy said tenderly, her hand brushing away a damp tendril of hair from the flushed forehead.
‘I don’t feel well, Mum, and my leg hurts. It hurts really bad,’ Ruby cried piteously, her face screwed up in pain.
Daisy looked quickly round to where Bernard was sitting silently on the bench, his bruised face drawn and haggard, and at this moment she was hard put to decide whom she felt sorrier for. Apart from telling her what had happened to Ruby, he hadn’t uttered a word since last night when, together with Jack, she had laid him down on the four-poster bed before the constables had arrived. They had listened gravely as she had explained the circumstances of the situation, and had asked her if Bernard would be pressing charges against the men responsible for the violent assault. She had told them they had no wish for revenge, and had asked them to see to Lady. All through the long discourse Bernard had remained mute, his pain-filled eyes staring sightlessly in front of him. Not even when some hours after the constables had left and the sudden loud retort of a gun from the stables had woken her from an uneasy sleep did he make any sign of movement. And the boys: dear God, the boys!
George stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes filled with tears, holding the small pot of mignonette he had insisted on buying from the flower-lady outside the hospital. Then Bertie came hurrying down the ward, the Sister walking sedately behind him. He reached the bed first, and going immediately to George’s side, his arm went round his brother’s shoulder before he looked down at Ruby.
Closing her eyes for a moment, Daisy felt her body sway with fatigue. She was going to have her hands full over the next few months, for not only would she have to look after Ruby, she would also have the extra burden of the three men in her life, who at this moment were dependent on her to smooth the way for them. Ruby was in for a rough time, but she would pull through. It would take a while, but Ruby was a fighter, she wouldn’t give in easily. As for Bernard; she lifted her shoulders in despair. He was no longer the Bernard she knew, not this silent, withdrawn man sitting beside her. Ruby might have lost a limb, but it was Bernard who had become a cripple – an emotional cripple.
So deep in thought was she that the Sister had to speak twice before Daisy heard her. ‘I’m going to give Ruby some medicine to ease the pain, Mrs Chadwick. It will also make her sleep. And, if you don’t mind me saying so, you look as if you could do with some sleep yourself, and your husband.’ Then she poured out some liquid into a spoon.
‘What is that?’ Daisy asked, more from a desire to talk than a genuine need to know.
‘It’s laudanum, Mrs Chadwick. Ruby will be taking this for a few days until she gets over the worst. Then we will give her tincture of opium for the pain for as long as she needs it.’
Daisy nodded dumbly. For as long as she needs it. Pray to God that wouldn’t be for too long.
‘It’s all right, Mum,’ Ruby said weakly, trying to give Daisy a feeble grin. ‘I don’t mind the taste of the medicine, and I don’t mind my leg hurting any more, honest, Mum. And, Mum,’ she added, quieter now as the laudanum began to take effect, ‘I was so frightened, Mum! I thought the doctor was going to cut my leg off, but he hasn’t. I know he hasn’t because I can still feel it…’ Her voice trailed off, and then her head lolled to one side, the smile still on her face.
Daisy’s hands flew to her face in despair. Oh, God, she didn’t know! She thought she still had her leg! Oh, no, no! Pressing her hand to her mouth, she tried valiantly to stop the sobs that were tearing at her throat, but in vain. She heard the loud keening sound in her head, but was completely unaware that the animal sounds were coming from her own throat.
‘Mrs Chadwick, please! You are distressing the other patients. And look at your sons! For their sakes, if not your own, calm yourself.’ The Sister was pulling Daisy’s hand from her mouth while at the same time trying to push her from the bedside and the ward.
Daisy felt the urgent hands pulling at her and cast them off impatiently as she tried to get back to Ruby’s side. The only thought in her mind was to get her daughter home, to be with her when she discovered the truth. She had to be told by someone who cared, not somebody who did the loathsome task every day because they were paid to. She felt hands come out and grasp her arm, and the rage built inside her body. All the fear, anger and despair she had bottled up during the past hours now came bubbling up. She wanted to hit out, to shout and kick, to hurt somebody. Anybody would do! She had to find release from this feeling burning inside her.
What would have happened next she never knew, for it was at that point that Bernard rose to his feet, the curtain lifting from his eyes as he said firmly, ‘Take your hands off my wife. I will see to her.’
The sound of the familiar voice brought Daisy back to reality and her body slumped with relief. She had been one step away from madness! If she had released the scream that had been spiralling inside her body until it had seemed to fill her very brain, she would have been doomed. For once that scream had been released, she would have been unable to stop. Leaning against Bernard’s firm body, she allowed herself to be led sobbing from the ward.
Bertie reluctantly detached himself from the foot of the bed and went to his mother, his arm going tenderly round her waist. Left alone, George placed the pot of mignonette by the bed, then, making sure no one was watching, he crept round and kissed Ruby’s forehead. ‘I love you, Ruby. Get better soon,’ he whispered before running after his family.
Chapter Ten
Ruby sat quietly in her chair by the window, the book open on her lap, forgotten, as she tried to put her thoughts in order. The hot sun caressed her face. It was nearly eight months since her leg had been amputated, six of which had been spent in a convalescent home where she had been among people like herself: men, women and children who for some reason had had to endure the same terrible agony. It hadn’t been so bad then, she hadn’t felt different, and with the help and care she’d received from the doctors and nurses had even come to accept what had happened to her. It was while she was there that she had learned of the death of her grandfather and the news that, when she came home, it would be to this house, the house she had been in only once, on that fateful day that seemed so long ago. This had come as a great shock, for not only had she lost a grandfather, a grandfather she had never had the chance to meet, but she had also been deprived of her home, a home she had loved despite her parents’ feelings about it.
She still could not take in the size and grandeur of her bedroom. She had a double bed all to herself, a large walnut writing-desk where she took her lessons, and in the far corner lay the washbasin and dressing table, something she had always longed for. The wardrobe against the main wall contained a dozen new dresses and outfits, but the bottom shelf, used as a storage-place for shoes and boots, was bare. Thinking about the matter of footwear brought a sad smile to her face. Would her mum try to find a cobbler to make only one shoe for her, or would she have to buy them in pairs and throw one away? It was an interesting problem and one she’d have to put to her mum some time, but not just yet. At the moment she was quite happy to remain bare-footed.
When her mother’s voice floated up to her, she leaned forward to look out of the window. Daisy was talking to the new gardener, her outstretched hand indicating the large flower-bed that had become her pride and joy. Ruby watched her mother’s animated face and felt a sudden surge of love for her; she looked so pretty in her new colourful dresses, and the one she was wearing was a particular favourite of Ruby’s. It was a lovely shade of violet and white, the bodice being tucked in at the waist with tiny pleats before falling to the groun
d in soft folds. Daisy’s insistence on not wearing bustles, as was the current fashion, had Ruby’s wholehearted approval, but not her dad’s. Ruby remembered one night when they had received an invitation from one of Bernard’s new-found friends ,a banker in the City, and he had tried to persuade Daisy to have a new dress made for the occasion. Still unsure of himself, he had tentatively asked if she would be following the mode of the day, by which he meant having a bustle at the back of the dress. Ruby found a smile coming to her face as she recalled her mother saying that if the men had to restrict their bodies in a whalebone corset to keep them upright and then have to don a garment that seemed to walk two steps behind them all day, they wouldn’t be so keen on fashions and trends! Bernard had capitulated, as he often did nowadays, and because he did so, Daisy then, with perfect woman’s logic, ordered a new blue dress to be made; with bustle. She had worn it only once, and then put it away in her wardrobe, ready to be taken out and dusted down for the next social engagement.
Thinking about her dad and the way in which he had changed caused the smile to slip from Ruby’s lips. Since the accident he had bent over backwards trying to please her as if somehow he blamed himself, and it was strange what had happened to Lady. Her mother had told her that both Nobby and Lady had been taken to a farm in the country because they couldn’t afford to keep them any more; but that couldn’t be true because they had more money now than they’d ever had. It was after this incident that her dad had redoubled his efforts to please her, and she wasn’t sure if she liked him this way. She had often wished he would unbend a little and be more attentive to her, and now that it had happened, she should be feeling very happy. At long last he was the kind of father she had always wanted, but the price she’d had to pay was too high; much too high.
Giving a long sad sigh, she turned her eyes again to the book on her lap, but for once the trials and tribulations of Jane Eyre held no excitement. She wished she had gone down to the garden as her mother had wanted, but the thought of the new gardener staring at her had prevented her from leaving her room, where she felt safe, away from prying eyes and sympathetic stares. She couldn’t abide sympathy; she didn’t need it, she told herself fiercely. Suddenly she caught a glimpse of the wooden leg propped up by the side of her bed, and quickly averted her eyes. It looked grotesque, seemingly suspended by the heavy mesh corset and belt necessary to keep it in place. She had tried it on only once, and that had been enough. In spite of Daisy putting a soft sock over the stump to stop any chafing, it had still hurt when she put her weight on it. That had been over a month ago, and she hadn’t tried it again and didn’t see the need: she could get around the house quite well on her crutches.
Giving yet another protracted sigh, she turned once again to the window. She was so bored! If only Bertie and George were here instead of at the stuffy old boarding school her dad had insisted on. His purpose had been to make educated men of them in the hope that one day they might join him in the business he had taken over on his father’s death. Tapping her finger on the side of her chair, she pondered on what to do next. She could call her mother up for a chat, but she would only start persuading her to try the leg on again, and she didn’t want to; it was horrible. Maybe her next governess would have some spirit, unlike the miserable creatures she had had to endure so far. Her education had greatly improved but she needed more; she needed a friend, someone not afraid to talk back, someone who wouldn’t suck up to her, but, more important, someone who could make her laugh again. Someone like Lily from the pub.
At this thought, her hands stopped their fidgeting and a smile came to her lips. Imagine someone like Lily coming here! It would be like a breath of fresh air, but how could she arrange it? Certainly not as a governess, since poor Lily couldn’t even write her own name, but maybe as her personal maid. Yes, that was an idea. Now that it had taken root, she thought frantically for a way to get Lily here. It wasn’t going to be easy, for she knew how her dad viewed common people, especially now that he was a proper gent and no longer just pretending. There must be a way; there must be! If she were to get her own way in this matter, she would first have to put her parents in a good frame of mind, and what better way than to pretend to accept the hateful leg and learn to walk on it? Chewing on her bottom lip, she looked again at the polished leg, and shivered. Deep down, she wanted to walk again, to get out of this room, this house, and live again. She had had her 11th birthday while at the convalescent home, but she felt much older. She wanted someone who would treat her as an equal, not as an object of pity or guilt. This thought was quickly banished: why should anyone feel guilty? What had happened had been her fault, no one else’s. As her mother kept telling her, no one would know she had a wooden leg. Her clothes would cover it for the most part, and if she worked really hard, she would learn to walk without too much of a limp.
Quickly, before she could change her mind, she leaned out of the window and called, ‘Mum, could you come up here a minute, please?’ She felt a pang of remorse when she saw the smile that lit up her mother’s face, but quickly dismissed it. There was no time to waste on guilt, she had her life to live. Getting up from the chair, she hopped over to the bed and sat down next to the leg as she waited for Daisy to come up the stairs.
* * *
Daisy alighted from the train at Liverpool Street station and immediately cursed herself for a fool. That Ruby had manipulated her into this venture she hadn’t the slightest doubt, and she had fallen for it, promising her anything if she would only learn to walk on the false leg that Bernard had paid £50 for. Quickly hailing a cab, she settled back, taking in the sights around her, her mind working furiously.
After Ruby had left the hospital, she had been sent to a convalescent home in Surrey. She had been there only a week when Bernard had received news of his father’s death. The news couldn’t have come at a worse time for him. He was just getting over his narrow escape from a nervous breakdown, and the visits to his father had helped to lift him out of his depression. At the funeral, she had watched him anxiously, fearing this latest blow would send him plummeting back into the dark gloom, but he had remained impassive. Although he had become closer to his father during the last few weeks of his life than ever before, the reconciliation had come too late for him to feel any deep sorrow. After the funeral, they had gone back to the house for the reading of the will, and Daisy had sat open-mouthed as the small wizened solicitor had told them that Bernard had been left the house and several thousand pounds-worth of stocks and shares, together with the wish of his father that he, Bernard, should leave the pub and take over his position in the City. His brother David, whom she had disliked on sight, had sat silently throughout the reading, only the dark red flush on his heavy features indicating his anger.
Bernard should have been suspicious at the way his brother had accepted the provisions of the will and been on his guard, but his mind had been so full of Ruby and the death of his father that he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. It was only when they had taken up residence in the house that the valuable items of ornaments and paintings had been missed. After a hurried inventory, it had been discovered that David had made off with some £4,000 of goods. He hadn’t been heard of since. There was a whisper among the servants that he had gone to America, but it was dismissed as idle rumour. She for one was glad he was gone; she wouldn’t have known a moment’s peace if he had stayed in the house. Of course the loss of the valuables had come as a blow, but they still had been left with more than enough to live on.
‘’Ere we are, lady!’
Daisy’s head jolted back sharply as the cab came to a halt. Getting down onto the familiar cobbled pavement, she paid the cabbie his money before looking around her in dismay. God, she had forgotten just how dirty the streets were in this part of London! She should have taken heed of Bernard. He had been livid when she’d told him of Ruby’s request, dismissing it as utter nonsense that she should even consider bringing a girl like Lily into the house. However, Daisy ha
d been quick to point out that although Lily might be uneducated, she was clean, hard-working, honest and bright. But it was Ruby’s insistence that had worn him down as she had hobbled bravely into the room wearing the artificial leg, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Shrugging his shoulders, he had remarked that it was up to the pair of them, and he wanted no part in such a madcap scheme.
And now, standing here in the dirty cluttered street surrounded by the hotchpotch of people that made up the East End, she was beginning to agree with him. She looked up at the window behind which she had slept for 14 years and then to the open door of the pub. The noise and laughter that had for so long been a part of her life now sounded threatening, and instinctively she stepped back, her breath coming in short puffs. She could always go back home and tell Ruby that she hadn’t been able to find Lily, but she dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. She would never do such a thing, and Ruby wouldn’t let it rest there: she would keep on until Lily was found. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and sailed bravely through the door.
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