by Dilly Court
'This lady has a sick child, Brough. Take her luggage and escort her to the doctor's house.'
'Aye, master. Right away. Follow me, missis.' Brough hefted the cases onto his trolley and shambled off the way he had come.
Murmuring her thanks to the station master, Eloise took Joss by the hand, and with Ada clinging to the hem of her mantle she followed Brough out of the station. He led them to a neat red-brick house set a little way back from the road, surrounded by a well-kept garden which in summer must be a riot of colour, but was now carpeted with golden daffodils filling the air with their fresh scent. Brough set the luggage down outside the front door and he rapped on the knocker. With Ada snivelling at her side, Eloise could not hear what he said to the pleasant-faced woman who stood in the doorway, but she pushed past him and came towards them with her arms outstretched. 'Come in, my dear. Let me take the babe while you look after the little lad.' She glanced at Ada. 'That will be enough of that noise, miss. You are not helping.' Taking Beth from Eloise, she marched into the house. 'Leave the lady's luggage in the hall, Brough.'
Eloise fumbled in her purse to find a coin, but the aged porter laid his gnarled hand on hers. 'No need, ma'am. I'm pleased to help.' He tipped his cap and walked off down the garden path.
'Thank you, Mr Brough,' Eloise called after him and was rewarded by a backward glance and a crooked smile. Lifting Joss over the threshold, Eloise hurried into the house.
'Come into the front parlour. My husband, Dr Robinson, has been called out but he should be back soon.' Mrs Robinson ushered them into her small front room. 'But until he returns, I'll be happy to take a closer look at the baby, if you will allow it, Mrs. . .'
'Mrs Cribb, Eloise Cribb. I fear that Beth is very sick, ma'am. I believe that she has been exposed to measles. She had a convulsion on the train and she is burning up with fever.'
Joss clutched his mother's hand, his blue eyes swimming with tears and his lips trembling. Ada was quieter now, but she still clung to Eloise as if scared to let her go.
'And this young person?' Mrs Robinson stared at Ada with a puzzled frown. 'She seems very distressed, Mrs Cribb.'
'Ada is very sensitive,' Eloise said hastily. 'She suffers with her nerves.'
'I'd advise her to sit down and take a hold of herself. Giving way to hysteria is a sign of weakness.' Mrs Robinson drew Eloise aside. 'Is she quite right in the head?'
'She is a little bit simple but there is no harm in her,' Eloise answered in a low voice. 'She will calm down in a moment, but please, I am so worried about Beth. Is there anything you can do for her until the doctor returns?'
'We will take her to my room, where she can be kept quiet until Steven gets home. I used to be a nurse, so you can trust me to take care of your baby. I suggest you stay here with your son and the simple soul, who seems to need a great deal of comfort.'
'I – I don't want to leave Beth,' Eloise began, but Mrs Robinson raised an imperative hand.
'Not only am I a nurse, but I have had six children of my own. I know what I'm doing. You must not worry.'
Still uncertain, Eloise followed Mrs Robinson out of the parlour. 'What do you think is wrong with her, ma'am? It has come on so suddenly and her little face is flushed, when just now she was white as a sheet.'
'I've seen it many times before, and, unless I am very much mistaken, your baby has definitely contracted measles. Now go to your boy, Mrs Cribb. He might be sickening for it too, so you must see to him.'
Eloise went back to the parlour where she found Ada curled up on the sofa, apparently fast asleep, and Joss sitting on the floor looking dazed and lost. She scooped him up in her arms and held him close. Measles – the dreaded disease that killed so many young children. Eloise felt Joss's forehead, but he was cool with no sign of fever. She was not afraid for herself as she remembered having the disease when she was six or seven, but she sent a silent prayer to her father's unforgiving god in the hope that he might heed her plea to make Beth well again. Beside herself with fear, Eloise smothered a sob. If only her mama were here now. She would know what to do. She always rose to a crisis, and she had seen many of them in her years as a vicar's wife. She had nursed sick children and comforted the bereaved, taken calves' foot jelly to the ailing and food to the needy. Mama had always been so brave and strong, if only she were more like her. Eloise felt her world crumbling about her shoulders. If Beth died it would be all her fault for bringing her to this. She cuddled Joss closer to her and she cast an anxious glance at Ada. Perhaps she had done a foolish thing by taking them away from Cribb's Hall? Maybe they would have been better served if she had abandoned them to the care of Ronnie's family? At least they would have been fed, clothed and well educated. What future could she offer them? She was now a woman on her own – so very much on her own.
She had not heard the footsteps outside in the hall and Eloise jumped as the door opened and a tall man with a pleasant smile entered the room. 'Mrs Cribb, I am Dr Steven Robinson. No, don't get up; you'll only disturb the little lad.'
Eloise realised then that Joss had fallen asleep in her arms. 'My baby. Have you seen her, doctor?'
He closed the door and pulled up a chair. 'I have, and I'm afraid that Hannah was correct in her diagnosis of measles.' He reached out and laid his hand on her arm. 'Don't distress yourself, Mrs Cribb. Beth is an otherwise healthy infant and has every chance of making a full recovery, provided that she has the appropriate care.'
'What am I to do, doctor?' The hoarse voice that came from her own throat sounded strange to Eloise's ears. She seemed to be lost in a maze of terrifying circumstances.
'The first thing is to find lodgings where you can nurse Beth back to health. It's very likely that your boy will succumb to the illness as well, and you certainly cannot continue with your journey. Where was it that you were headed?'
'To London,' Eloise murmured, shaking her head. 'I have friends in London.'
'I'm afraid that is impossible, Mrs Cribb. You cannot travel until the child is well again. I know that it is none of my business, but is there someone you could call on for help? A relative or a close friend? Your husband . . .'
'I am a widow, doctor. My friends and family are all in London. We were visiting relations near Scarborough, but it is not possible for me to return there just now.'
'I am sorry, but I can only advise you as a physician that to move the child now could prove fatal. Do you know anyone in Driffield who might be willing to take you in?'
Eloise was going to say no, and then she remembered the kindly lady whom she had met on the train. She stared down at Joss's face, innocent and defenceless as he slept in her arms. Her acute maternal ear caught the sound of Beth's feverish cries from the room upstairs, and Ada muttered in her sleep. They all depended on her and she must do everything in her power to protect them. She raised her eyes to meet Dr Robinson's sympathetic gaze. 'There is someone. A lady I met on the train when I first travelled to Yorkshire, but I doubt very much if she would want to expose her own children to such a dreadful disease. I hardly think it would be fair to ask it of her. I just don't know what to do.'
Chapter Six
Eloise's first impression of the farmhouse was that it looked like a child's toy that someone had strategically placed in the picturesque setting of the green and pleasant wolds. From the top of the hill she could see a river running like a silver ribbon through a wide valley and stands of trees just springing back to life after the long cold winter. Dr Robinson had to slow his horse as he drove his trap down the hill towards Danby Farm. The spirited little cob snorted and tossed his head as if he could smell spring in the air, but he slowed his pace to a sedate trot.
Eloise was too concerned about Beth to appreciate the full glory of the scenery, and she sat by Dr Robinson's side glancing anxiously down at her baby's flushed face every few seconds, in order to reassure herself that Beth had not taken a turn for the worse. Ada was sitting on the back seat with Joss perched on her knee, and her voice rose in a cresce
ndo of excitement as she drew his attention to cows grazing in the fields and the sheep dotted about on the grassy hillsides. Eloise couldn't help being amused by her enthusiasm, and she was grateful to Ada for keeping Joss occupied with her childish chatter, but her concern for Beth was compounded by anxiety as to their reception at the farm. Both Dr Robinson and his wife, Hannah, had assured her that Gladys Danby was the nicest of women, and could be relied on to keep her word. If Gladys had seen fit to invite them to visit the farm, she was not the sort of person to turn them away in their time of need. Eloise wished that she could be so certain. It was one thing to call in for a cup of tea and a chat, and quite another to foist a sick child, possibly two sick children, as well as Ada, on an unsuspecting farmer and his family.
As they drew closer to the farmhouse Eloise's heart was in her mouth. What would she do if Gladys Danby turned them away? It would be impossible to travel on to London and the only alternative would be to return to Cribb's Hall. It simply did not bear thinking about.
'Here we are,' Dr Robinson said cheerfully as he drove the trap through the farm gates. 'Danby Farm.'
The mellow brick building with its dormer windows glinting in the sunlight like smiling eyes, and the farmyard bustling with chickens pecking at the ground and geese waddling around like sentries, looked so welcoming that Eloise's spirits rose as the trap drew to a halt.
'Wait here, Mrs Cribb,' Dr Robinson said, giving her a reassuring smile as he handed her the reins. 'It's probably best if I speak to Gladys first.' He vaulted down from the trap and waded through the livestock to the front door.
Eloise waited, hardly daring to breathe. Beth was stirring in her sleep and her small body still felt abnormally hot. It was well past midday and Eloise was tired, hungry and close to tears as she waited for someone to open the door. Perhaps they were all out working in the fields, and might not return until nightfall? Dr Robinson rapped on the doorknocker again, and when no one came, he came slowly back to the trap. 'There doesn't seem to be anyone at home,' he said, frowning. 'It's not market day, so Gladys ought to be somewhere about on the farm.'
'Perhaps we ought to go back to the town,' Eloise murmured. 'I could take a room at the inn.'
Dr Robinson opened his mouth to reply but closed it again as his attention was caught by a movement in one of the outbuildings. His brow cleared and he sighed with relief. 'I see someone. Hello there.'
A figure emerged from the henhouse, and Eloise recognised the plump shape of Gladys Danby. She came hurrying over to them with a basket of eggs hooked over her arm. 'Dr Robinson, this is a surprise.' She paused, staring at Eloise and the children, and then a broad smile creased her weather-beaten face. 'Why, it's the lass from the train and the little ones.'
'May I have a word with you, Gladys?' Dr Robinson drew her aside and spoke to her in a low voice.
Eloise strained her ears but she could not hear what was being said, and Beth had awakened now that the swaying motion of the trap had ceased. She began to wail in a high-pitched monotone that was more upsetting than howls of rage. Gladys came hurrying towards the trap and she was not smiling now. Eloise braced herself to accept a refusal, but Gladys held out her arms to take Beth. 'Give her to me, lass. Bring the little lad and the young woman into the house.'
'Are you sure, Mrs Danby?' Eloise said, hesitating. 'I don't want to impose on your kindness.'
'Fiddlesticks! I invited you, didn't I? Gladys Danby is not a woman to give out invites willynilly. You are most welcome, and we've all suffered the measles at one time or another, so there's no fear of infection. You look fair done in, you poor soul. Come inside at once. I'll not take no for an answer.'
The interior of the farmhouse was as warm and welcoming as the homely exterior. The front entrance led straight into a large kitchen with a low beamed ceiling hung with bunches of herbs and strings of onions. The fragrant scents of dried mint, marjoram, sage and rosemary mingled with the salty aroma of hams being smoked in the chimney breast above the black leaded range. A pan of soup simmered on the hob and the appetising aroma made Eloise's stomach rumble with hunger, but she was too concerned for her children to bother about her own needs.
Gladys took a seat in a chair by the fire and began to unwrap the swaddling around Beth's small body. She examined the fine red rash which had spread all over Beth's trunk and she nodded her head. 'It's measles all right.'
Dr Robinson's lips twisted into a wry smile. 'I'm glad you concur with my diagnosis, Gladys.'
She looked up at him and chuckled. 'Well, I daresay as how I've seen just as many cases as you have, doctor, and nursed them back to health too.'
'I know you have, Gladys. And that is why I was certain that you would help this unfortunate young woman. You have a heart of pure gold.'
'Get on with you, doctor,' Gladys said, flushing to the roots of her grey hair. 'Save your flattery for them up at the big house. Any road, you know you can leave everything to me, and if I need you I'll send our Reggie to fetch you.'
'Beth will be all right, won't she, doctor?' Eloise asked anxiously as Dr Robinson made to leave. 'And what about Joss? Do you think he will get it too?'
'It's more than likely, Mrs Cribb. There are no guarantees with this sort of thing, but your children stand as good a chance of recovery as any, in fact more than most. You know where to find me if I'm needed.'
Eloise followed him to the door. 'Your fee, doctor. I must pay you.'
Gladys rose to her feet, cradling Beth in her arms. 'Hold on to your money, lass. There's a basket of eggs in the dairy, doctor. I'm sure that Hannah could find a use for them.'
Dr Robinson set his top hat back on his head and he smiled. 'I'm sure she could. Thank you, Gladys.'
As the door closed on him, Eloise turned to Gladys. 'I really do appreciate this, Mrs Danby.'
'There, there, lass,' Gladys said with a careless shrug of her shoulders. 'What sort of woman would I be if I turned my back on someone in need? Come upstairs with me and we'll make the little one comfortable.'
'Hungry,' Joss murmured, clinging to Ada's skirts.
'Me too,' Ada said, eyeing the pan of soup and licking her lips.
'And we will all have summat to eat just as soon as we've settled the babe. Why don't you take the little lad out into the yard and wash his hands and face at the pump? Do you think you could manage that?' Gladys turned to Eloise. 'What is her name?'
'Ada, Ada Braithwaite. She's travelling with us to London. It's a long story.'
'Braithwaite.' Gladys repeated the name, angling her head as if she were trying to recall some long forgotten fact, then her face brightened. 'I remember now. There was a scandal years ago involving Joan Braithwaite, Hilda Cribb's sister. She went to live with her aunt in Bridlington, unless I'm very much mistaken.'
'You're not mistaken, Mrs Danby,' Eloise said in a low voice. 'It's a long story.'
Gladys acknowledged this with a nod of her head and then turned to Ada with a cheery smile. 'Well now, Ada, will you do that for me?'
Ada nodded her head vehemently as she took Joss by the hand. 'Find the pump and wash Joss's hands and face. I can do that, missis.'
'Good girl,' Gladys said approvingly. 'When you've done, you can come back here and take a seat at the table. We'll be down directly.' She winked at Eloise as she led the way out of the kitchen into a narrow, wainscoted hallway and up a twisting staircase to the first floor. The oak panelling made the long corridor seem very dark, but when Gladys opened a door at the far end, the bedroom was filled with sunlight. A bright patchwork coverlet on the bed, floral patterned curtains and colourful rag rugs scattered over the polished floorboards emitted a warm and homely first impression, so at odds with the cold splendour of Cribb's Hall.
'There,' Gladys said, dragging a wooden cradle from a far corner and placing it beside the bed. 'Four generations of Danbys have slept in this cradle. The little lass will be all right in here and there's a cot up in the attic for young Joss. I'll get our Reggie to fetch it down late
r.'
Beth was sleeping fitfully and Eloise laid her in the cradle. She pulled up a chair, intending to sit where she could watch over Beth, but Gladys shook her head. 'Nay, lass. Your need is greater than hers at the moment. You need a little sustenance. You won't do the baby any good if you fall sick yourself. I'll get our Meg to come and sit with the babe while you have your dinner. She'll be in from the dairy directly, and I'll send her straight up.'
Eloise shook her head. 'What if she wakes and finds me gone? She'll be frightened if I'm not here.'
'She'll not wake for a while, love. The fever has her in its grip, and even if she does wake, I doubt if she'll recognise you for a while at least. We must keep her cool and once the fever passes she'll be right as rain, I promise you.'
Reluctantly, Eloise followed Gladys downstairs. In the kitchen they found Ada and Joss seated obediently at the table with a tall, thin girl standing and staring at them with a frown on her face.
'Who are they, Mum?' the girl demanded suspiciously. 'I found them in the yard and she wouldn't speak to me. Is she not all there or summat?'
'Don't be rude, our Meg,' Gladys said hastily. 'We've got company, so you mind your manners.'
Meg wiped her hands on her apron, pouting. 'I only asked.'
'Well, now you've been told. This is Mrs Cribb and her little lad Joss. The other person is Ada, a friend who was accompanying them to London when Mrs Cribb's baby got took sick. I want you to go upstairs to the back bedroom, Meg. You must keep an eye on the baby, and call us if she wakes. Do you understand me?'
'I want me dinner,' Meg said sulkily.
'And you shall have it as soon as our guests have eaten. Now, off you go, there's a good lass.' Gladys shooed the girl out of the kitchen, flapping her apron as if Meg was an unruly feathered creature that had escaped from the henhouse. 'Right then, sit down, Mrs Cribb, and taste a bowl of my rabbit stew. My sons say it's the best in the East Riding, but then they would, wouldn't they?' Chuckling, Gladys went to the range and ladled out three bowlfuls of piping hot stew. She placed them on the table in front of her guests and went back to the oven to take out a freshly baked loaf of bread, which she proceeded to cut into generous hunks. 'You'll all do a lot better with full bellies,' she said, liberally buttering the bread before handing it round.