He squinted and then managed to nod. ‘Yes.’
‘So you see, you must not consider me in need of care,’ she said as lightly as she could. ‘I may seem frail and – and small, but I am a strong person and well able to care for myself.’
‘But how much more agreeable it is to be cared for,’ he said and again coughed, though not so painfully this time.
‘I wish I could care for you,’ she said impulsively. ‘Can you not come to my house and let me look after you there? We have good enough doctors in Brompton now. I can arrange matters to accommodate you easily.’ Already she was surveying her house inside her head, and seeing how she could contrive it; if she put a truckle bed in Duff’s room for herself she could care for Freddy in her own and –
‘No!’ He spoke so loudly that she almost jumped. For a moment he sounded like his old self again, but then he coughed once more. When he had recovered he looked at her very directly.
‘I prayed to see you again not because I wished for you to be burdened with me but because I just wanted to be sure you were well and that – and that you did not remember me with disgust.’
‘How could I? You were so very kind to me.’
‘There were reasons enough for me to arouse disgust in you,’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘Do not think such a thing. I remember you entirely with gratitude.’
He was silent for a while, and then said carefully, ‘It would be agreeable to see a little more of you, if I am able. Soon that wretched nurse will be back and I will not be able to argue when she insists on returning me to my bed. But I will be here again tomorrow, Tilly. Each morning I am fetched here. It is my only pleasure and the doctor who is, like me, a realist, agrees it will make no difference to the outcome and permits it. Will you be here a while longer in Brighton? Can I see you here tomorrow, perhaps? It would be so wonderful to have something to look forward to with pleasure.’
‘I am here for about three weeks altogether,’ she said. ‘We arrived only at the end of last week. I have another twelve days.’
‘That, I rather think, will be enough.’ He breathed it in what was now clearly a totally exhausted voice. ‘Please, can you be here tomorrow? I ask no more.’
‘Of course, Freddy,’ she said gently and at last let go of his hand as the nurse came back very purposefully and looked at her sternly.
‘Mr Compton ain’t fit for chatters, Madam,’ she said.
‘I know,’ Tilly said and stood up. ‘But he is able to listen without effort and I hope he may find some pleasure in that.’
‘Yes,’ Freddy murmured. ‘She understands, Mrs Friel. There is no need to be disagreeable with her.’
‘I am never disagreeable,’ Mrs Friel said in the most disagreeable voice possible. ‘I wish only to do my duty as the doctors say I must for you.’
‘Then you will take me back now, and bring me here tomorrow,’ Freddy said. ‘I will wait with pleasure for tomorrow, Tilly. I am so glad we met again.’
‘And so am I,’ she said gently, and watched Mrs Friel push the Bath chair away along the promenade.
Each day they met at the same time and at the same bench, where Tilly sat and waited for him with her parasol. Mrs Friel would secure the Bath chair and then waddle away about her own concerns. After a couple of days she was clearly well content to have this unexpected free time for herself. Freddy would sit hunched in his blanket staring out under his hat brim and saying little, for each day he seemed a little weaker and a little less able to talk. She learned to chatter in a way that demanded nothing in the way of answer from him. She still felt guilty about the amount of speech he had wrung from his depleted frame on the first morning; she would not let him fritter away his strength so again.
But he seemed happy enough. He did not want to speak, was content to sit there beside her and feel her hand on his and listen to her talk. Sometimes a street musician came by with a barrel organ and the children would come running up the beach to dance to his tunes and play with his monkey. Freddy seemed to enjoy that, so she took to enticing the man to come by at the same time each morning. She did all she could to make the brief hour they shared together as pleasant as possible.
Being sure that Dorcas was not with her when he arrived seemed important to Tilly. She felt uneasily aware that Dorcas would be troublesome if she knew of his reappearance in Tilly’s life; and she puzzled about that at first, lying in the rather lumpy bed in her lodgings, and came to the conclusion that it was Jem she was really worried about. Indeed Dorcas never rose before eleven if she could help it, now she had Tilly in Brighton to care for Sophie, and so was at no risk of appearing at the beach early enough to see Freddy. But Jem – Jem did worry Tilly. She could not see any logical reason why he should be distressed in any way by Freddy’s reappearance; but there was always the possibility and because Jem had been kind to her and was a good friend she did not wish to hurt him in any way.
But, she reminded herself one night, it is no business of his. Freddy is dying. There can be no doubt of that. Why burden someone else with that knowledge if it is not necessary?
The matter was, however, taken out of her hands. The fifth day after Freddy had first found her on the promenade was a Sunday and she took the children to church, feeling that they had run quite wild enough all week and putting on proper clothes and being polite and quiet and well-behaved for a morning would be good for them. When they returned to their lodgings, just before half past ten, she was startled though not unduly surprised to find Jem waiting in her stuffy little sitting room on one of the landlady’s uncomfortable, ugly chairs.
He jumped to his feet as she and the children came in and smiled broadly at her. ‘I hope you are glad to see me? I took the first train there was – I said I might come one Sunday.’
‘Indeed you did. And I am delighted to see you. Children, you may go upstairs and change into your beach clothes if you wish. I will take you there shortly.’ And the children ran whooping joyously upstairs as she came into the sitting room, pulling off her gloves.
‘Is all well at home?’
‘Excellent,’ he said and produced a number of messages from Eliza, none of which was particularly important. ‘The only problem is that the roses on the bush at the end of your garden, which have been so stubborn and refused to show themselves, are suddenly most exuberant and you are missing them. I brought you some to make up for that.’ He showed her the vase of full-blown cabbage roses on the small table in the centre of the room. ‘I am afraid they are already falling though I brought you the most budlike I could find.’
‘You are so thoughtful, Jem!’ she said and reached out a hand to him and decided in a moment of impulse to explain all. She could not lie, even by omission. ‘I must tell you of a most remarkable happening.’
He listened carefully as she spoke and then nodded slowly.
‘I see – it is very sad.’
‘Very,’ she said and felt the tears prick her eyes and was surprised. So far she had not wept at all for Freddy and now, suddenly, she had a strong desire to do so.
‘He is someone for whom you care a great deal,’ Jem said. It was a statement rather than a question.
‘He was my friend,’ Tilly said. Is my friend. No more than any friend, but a very good one.’
‘I am your friend, Tilly,’ he said. ‘Is it the same as it is with me? I had hoped that you were beginning to care for me a little more than in simple friendship. When we parted at the station – well, I thought it possible. I have to ask you now if the friendship you feel for this sad man is the same.’
She tried to think and could not and put both hands to her face in some distress. He reached for her, his own face crumpled in sympathy and without seeming to think about it, put both arms about her and she, equally instinctively, let him do it, and set her hands against his chest and rested her head on them. She felt safe and comfortable and at last let the emotions that had been so well-controlled all week have their way. She wept.
It was not painful weeping. The tears came gently and easily and washed the pain from her, and after a few moments she sniffed hard and lifted her head and at once he let her go and stood back.
‘Thank you, Jem,’ she said from the depths of the handkerchief she had pulled from her waistband and was now using vigorously on her nose. ‘It helps so to –’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘I – well, there it is. I have my answer then.’
‘Perhaps. But he is dying and –’
‘I do understand. And I am sad for you.’ She looked at him and could see the sadness there; but knew it was as much for himself as for Freddy.
‘I must go,’ she said. ‘I am sorry. You are here just for one day and I – well, I cannot let him down, can I? It is, I believe, the only joy he has in the day. He’ll be there in –’ she glanced at the fob watch on her bodice, – ‘ten minutes, yes. I must hurry.’
The children came down the stairs, whooping again, and she turned to them, glad of the distraction. There was a deal of fussing over sand shoes and the buttoning of breeches at the knee (Duff) and the polite arrangement of skirts (Sophie) and then they were clamouring at the front door to be away. She picked up her parasol and followed them.
‘Will you come too, Jem? I would like to introduce you. If you wish.’
His shoulders lifted and his chin came up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I am. I will ask you, perhaps, after you have met him to – well, leave us be. He likes to listen to me chatter. We do not say much but it is all he can manage. You will see.’
‘I’ll play with the children,’ he said, his voice was quite ordinary once more and she felt a wave of warmth for him rise in her. Such a kind, nice man, she thought. So very good.
The meeting was not as painful as she had feared. She had not precisely expected Freddy to be angry at Jem intruding on their special time together, but she had thought he might be suspicious. In the event his reaction surprised her, for he was clearly relieved to see Jem. An odd reaction, surely? she thought. ‘Don’t go away,’ he whispered, after they had been introduced and he was looking up at Jem with close scrutiny. ‘I would wish to speak to you.’
‘I would not wish you to tire yourself,’ Jem said. ‘It is clear that you find it a little difficult to –’
‘Then don’t argue with me,’ Freddy said, with a flash of laughter in his eyes and Jem grinned and sat down on the bench where Tilly was already ensconced with her parasol. She had put on a yellow muslin gown this morning, for it was as hot as ever, and a bonnet in pale straw trimmed with yellow roses. It had seemed important to her to make a real effort to look appealing in Freddy’s eyes. Whether it mattered to Jem she did not think about at all.
Freddy looked at her now, and tried to smile. ‘You are so pretty today,’ he murmured. ‘But go away for a little while, my dear.’
She gawped at him. ‘Go away? Why?’
‘I wish to speak to your friend Mr Leland,’ Freddy whispered. ‘Please, Tilly. Don’t make me argue.’
She got to her feet at once, puzzled but obedient. ‘If you insist. For how long?’
‘I hope ten minutes will suffice. Mr Leland looks an intelligent person. He will not need more.’
Jem looked at her and lifted his brows in puzzlement, and the wraith of a chuckle escaped Freddy’s lips.
‘You will understand soon enough,’ he managed. ‘Please, ten minutes only, Tilly –’
She went, looking back over her shoulder as Jem bent closer to hear more clearly the words that Freddy was producing, clearly with great effort. Ahead of her on the beach, the children waved and gestured for her to come and look at their newest piece of pebble engineering, a carriage this time, and she waved back to them and set out across the stones, slipping and wincing on the painful edges.
She was surprisingly irritated. How dare those two men discuss a matter and exclude her? How typical! Even at death’s door they still behave like men; and she let the anger slide through her, relishing it. It was a much less unpleasant emotion than the sadness about Freddy that had filled her all week.
Chapter Thirty-one
WHEN SHE RETURNED fifteen minutes later, the children came with her. They had fallen out over the design of the pebble carriage and Duff was sulky and Sophie furious about it. They came stumping along, one on each side of her, to the bench where Freddy and Jem still sat head to head, and she thought absurdly – now they’ll be sorry. They’ll have to pay attention to the children.
But as soon as she reached the bench Jem jumped up with real pleasure at the sight of the two cross children.
‘Ah, there you are!’ he said heartily. ‘Now, children, I’m glad you’re here for I have a plan and you will, I think, like it. I am going to take you to the end of the pier. There, you see? There’s a man selling coconut ice and another selling oranges and there’s to be a Punch and Judy show. I want to see that very much. I don’t suppose you do, but I’d take it kindly in you if you’d keep me company while I enjoy it.’
The children were at once all smiles, their argument forgotten, and they set about tidying themselves with great enthusiasm. While they were doing it, Jem took Tilly to one side, to be out of Freddy’s earshot.
‘Tilly, this is going to be difficult. I – I may not tell you why, or how, but I beg you to think carefully of how you will respond to what will be asked of you. Don’t say the first thing that occurs to you. I wish you to know that – oh, this is difficult – I wish you to know that I have no doubt you will do the kind and – the kind thing. Please don’t think of me at all, whatever you do.’
She gaped at him and he nodded his head seriously and set his straw hat in place, and turned to the children and took them each by a hand. ‘Now,’ he said. ‘I am in need of some preparation for the event I am to attend and the best preparation for me is to tell you the story of how Punch and Judy came to Brighton from Italy, where they were born. It happened like this. Once upon a time –’
They were away along the promenade, their faces upturned to Jem and she watched them, dissolving inside a little at the expression on Duff’s face. He was rapt and clearly as happy as a boy could be, and she thought – may he never be less happy than he is at this moment. And knew that to be a foolish prayer, for he was but a little boy and had to grow up in a world that was cruel and in which good people died before their time.
She turned and looked at Freddy who was gazing at her with eyes now so deepset it seemed as though they could barely remain in his head. He looked, she thought as dispassionately as she could, like a dead person already. Surely, it is not possible for someone so thin, so consumed by fire, to cling to life like this? But he was clinging. Hard. He lifted a hand to beckon her with remarkable energy, considering his frailty, and obediently she sat down beside him.
‘Tilly, I like your friend Jem very much,’ he said.
She smiled. ‘I do too. He is a kind and good man.’
‘He is more. He is a wise man.’
‘I am glad to hear you say so.’ She was mystified now. ‘But why?’
‘Because he listened to what I had to say to him, and did not argue with me. I hope you will do the same.’
She frowned. ‘I can’t see, Freddy, what you might have to say to him that was of importance. You have never met him before today, and anyway you couldn’t have known he would be here this morning. I didn’t know myself that he was coming.’
‘It’s a strange thing,’ he said and she was aware that his voice seemed less painful this morning. ‘But providence, once she decides to treat you kindly, persists in her care for a while however wayward she may have been in the past. Just as she brought you here to me in Brighton, so she brought your friend Jem this morning. I would have said what I am to say to you anyway, but it comforts me greatly to have seen what a good man he is and to know that he agrees with my plan.’
‘Your plan,’ she said, giving up all attempts to understand and even wondering briefly if his disease had, as somet
imes did occur she knew, invaded his brain. Was he talking like this from his condition rather than from rational thought?
‘Yes. My plan.’ There was a silence of the sort she had become used to during this past week in his company, as he gathered his strength again.
‘My plan,’ he began once more, ‘is this. I would wish you, my dearest Tilly, to wed me.’
She gaped at him. ‘Are you quite mad, Freddy?’ she managed at last. ‘Or did I hear you right.’
‘You heard me right and I am far from mad. I am thinking sensibly indeed. Your friend Jem agrees with me. He had some doubts, of course, but I was able to dispel them as I am sure I will yours.’
‘You asked Jem if – you asked his opinion of this plan, as you call it?’ She stared at him aghast. ‘Before you spoke to me?’
‘Yes. You have no father and no brother and –’
‘I have my own mind and my own control!’ she said spiritedly, quite forgetting how fragile his hold on life was, and treating him as though he were as he had always been. ‘By what right do you sit there and tell me that you have discussed a matter such as a proposal of marriage – a perfectly absurd proposal, I might add – with a man who is only a friend, however good a friend, before speaking to me of it? You take too much on yourself, Freddy, indeed you do!’
‘I have so little time left that I have to.’
She was silenced by that and bit her lip. But not for long. ‘It is not fair,’ she burst out. ‘You cannot use your sad situation to – to treat me so.’
He managed one of his smiles. ‘I am being outrageous, am I not? But all is fair in love and war.’
London Lodgings Page 33