“I can’t wear this,” she breathed. “Can I have what you are wearing?” Neve was wearing men’s breeches and a linen shirt, but at least she was covered up. Neve just smiled and went to the wardrobe. She rummaged in a drawer and produced a pair of similar breeches, and a cotton top the color of moss.
“How’s this?” she asked. “These are called jeans. Everyone wears them, men and women. They can be worn with anything.”
“Better, I suppose.” Frances changed, but had some trouble with the zipper.
“Here, let me help you,” Neve said as she easily pulled the metal tab upward. “Now, let’s find you some shoes. Your feet are smaller than mine, but a pair of trainers should fit you if you wear thick socks.”
“Trainers?” Frances asked, staring at Neve’s feet, which were clad in some sort of open shoes with straps. They were strange, but kind of pretty at the same time.
Neve pulled out a pair of clunky, colorful shoes from the wardrobe. They almost looked like wooden clogs, but were made of a softer material. “Sorry, that’s all I’ve got. We’ll get you some proper clothes as soon as we can.”
Frances pulled on the socks and pushed her feet into the trainers. They were surprisingly comfortable. Soft and snug. Much better than clogs.
“Come, the children made you breakfast.” Frances took one last look in the mirror and shrugged. When in Rome….
“This is wonderful,” Frances said through a mouthful of food. “Even better than that pie you gave me last night. May I have some more?”
“Of course. You must eat and rest, that’s your only job,” Neve said as she refilled Frances’s plate and poured her a fresh cup of tea to which she added sugar and a splash of milk. Frances would have preferred ale, but tea was all right too. Her stomach was beginning to feel pleasantly full, so she took a few more bites and pushed away the plate. She was just about to take a sip of tea when a sharp pain tore through her abdomen, leaving her breathless. Frances cried out, her hand going to her belly, and all color draining from her face.
“Frances, what is it?”
“I get these sharp pains from time to time. I haven’t had one in a few weeks, but dragging Archie might have hurt the baby.” Frances began to cry softly. “He was so heavy, so unresponsive. It took me a very long time to get him to the other side, and then the door wouldn’t open. It held fast. I left Archie on the floor and worked my fingers into the crack. I kept pulling until it opened enough for me to squeeze through. Then I got into the wedge, leaned against the frame and pushed with my hands and feet until the gap was wide enough to pull Archie through. I laid him on the ground, and then the pain came. It enveloped my belly and felt like a vise. I lay there, praying that Archie and the baby would survive, but if God wanted one of them, then I would rather keep Archie.”
“Oh, Franny,” Neve said as she enveloped Frances in a hug. “How long have you known?”
“Only a few weeks. I think it’s all right now. The pain has subsided, and there is no bleeding. Is there a midwife here?”
“Yes, we’ll find you a midwife,” Neve replied soothingly. “Taking you to the hospital is out of the question. I’ll talk to Mrs. Harding about ringing Doctor Lomax. If anyone has sway over him, it’s Stella Harding. In the meantime, let’s get you back upstairs. I’m no doctor, but bed rest can’t hurt. You can watch some television.”
Neve had mentioned television last night, but Frances couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept. Neve said it was like a stage play, but available anytime and in everyone’s home. And, there were many different plays to choose from, according to personal taste. It sounded intriguing, and would help distract her from her worrying while she awaited news of Archie and a visit from the midwife.
Chapter 59
David Lomax unwrapped his lunch and reached for the newspaper. It had been a hectic morning, and he looked forward to his lunch break, which he usually took in his office away from the bustle of the cafeteria. Clare packed him a tuna salad sandwich today, his favorite. She’d included a container of cut-up vegetables. He would have much rather had a bag of crisps, but his wife was always mindful of his cholesterol. “Doctor, heal thyself,” she said with that holier-than-thou look which annoyed him to no end since he knew all about the stash of chocolate in her hosiery drawer. A bag of crisps wouldn’t kill him, not after being on his feet all morning, seeing one patient after another.
David scanned the headlines, but couldn’t concentrate on the news, his mind straying to the nameless young man from the church. He’d woken up for a few minutes this morning, which was a very positive development under the circumstances. David had been pondering the case ever since he first examined the young man and seen his odd injuries. He felt relieved at having been able to share his suspicions with the police. At least the man was now under police protection. A young constable had been placed just outside the door. The policeman looked tense and uncomfortable every time Doctor Lomax passed by the room, but at least he seemed alert. Doctor Lomax wondered how long it would take for him to appropriate every magazine in the building and start chatting up the nurses.
David tossed aside the newspaper and stared out the window. Having worked in Cranleigh for the past thirty years, he’d become blasé, lost his edge. He spent his days stitching up kids who had accidents at the playground, lecturing middle-aged patients on the dangers of their sedentary lifestyle and unhealthy diet, and performing minor out-patient procedures. He’d forgotten what it was like to deal with true emergencies, the type he’d had to deal with while working at The Royal London when he was just starting out. He’d forgotten how vicious human beings could be to each other, and the harm they could inflict, usually intentionally.
He’d realized, guiltily, that he missed those days, missed feeling as if he were really making a difference and saving lives. Getting away from it all had been something of a relief at the time, especially since Clare was pregnant and they had no wish to raise their family in London. And coming home to Cranleigh was the natural next step, especially since David’s father was ready to step down and hand the practice he’d built over forty years to his son. It had been a good, happy life, if not a very exciting one. Everything in life was a trade-off, and this had been his. No regrets. But, he’d fought tooth and nail to save that young man’s life, and now he had a vested interest in his well-being. He’d give Bobby Knowles a call later and see if any leads had presented themselves.
David Lomax was startled out of his reverie by the trilling of his mobile. Few people called him on his mobile during the day. Patients called the surgery, and his wife waited for him to get home. She never called him at work unless it was an emergency. David stared at the little screen. Stella Harding.
“Stella, how are you?” he asked, wondering why Stella would call him now. She knew he’d be at the hospital. “Are you ill?”
“David, I need to ask a favor of you,” Stella said, her tone hesitant.
“Yes, of course. How can I help?”
“Do you think you could come by the house after your shift? Bring your medical bag.”
“Stella, are you ill?” he asked again. Stella was hardly ever unwell, and she rarely asked for favors. She was always careful not to overstep the boundaries of their friendship out of respect for Clare. Stella had nothing to worry about. Clare was secure in their marriage and never once questioned her husband’s friendship with his first love. She had no reason to. David Lomax was content with his life, and would never do anything to jeopardize his marriage, not even get an unauthorized bag of crisps.
“No, not me. Will you come?” She persisted.
“Yes, of course. I finish here at four.”
“Thank you, David.”
David Lomax opened his mouth to ask more questions, but Stella had already rung off. She’d sounded very mysterious, which was unusual for her, leaving David rather intrigued. He glanced briefly at his watch. It was nearly two, time to return to his patients.
**
Stella w
as waiting on the front steps when David pulled up in front of Everly Manor at ten past four. She was dressed somberly, in a dress of dark green with an apron tied around her middle. Her hair was scraped into a bun at the back of her head, but her face was still youthful, the girl he’d known just beneath the surface. She smiled warmly.
“Thank you for coming.”
“Are you all right?” David asked as he followed Stella into the kitchen where the kettle was already whistling on the hob. Stella poured two cups of tea and set one in front of him, clearly inviting him for a chat. David set down his bag and took a seat at the table. “So, what’s going on, old girl?”
“David, we’ve known each other for a long time,” she began, her eyes on her tea. If David didn’t know better, he’d say she was blushing.
“Yes,” he replied, confused.
“I would never ask anything of you if I didn’t think it important.”
“You’re being awfully secretive.”
“There’s a young woman upstairs who requires medical attention. She’s frightened and traumatized. Promise me you won’t interrogate her.”
“Why would I interrogate her? Who is she?” David asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Neve Ashley found her in the crypt with that young man.”
“What?” David sprang to his feet, nearly spilling his tea. “Stella, the police need to speak to her. She might have information about who attacked him.”
Stella looked away and shook her head. “No, David.”
David Lomax stared at the woman he’d known most of his life. What was she hiding from him, and why in the world was she protecting this girl from the police? “Stella, did she stab him? Was it self-defense?”
“No, of course not. She dragged him to safety.”
“From where? There were no traces of blood anywhere inside the church or on the steps leading down to the crypt.”
Stella just made a vague gesture with her hand, as if the girl had conjured up the injured man from thin air. “David, she’s pregnant, and she’s having abdominal pains. She’s terrified of losing her baby. Please, be gentle with her.”
“I’m always gentle,” David replied defensively. He was utterly confused by this turn of events. Why were they hiding this woman from the police, and what was Stella’s involvement in all this? Lord Everly said that he’d found the young man while out walking. Now Stella was confessing that Neve Ashley had been on the scene and had taken the girl away before the doctor arrived.
“Do you know her? Does Ms. Ashley?” David asked.
“My Simon was at their wedding,” Stella replied, her face suddenly going pale. She looked up at David, daring him to ask and dreading having to answer. He’d never seen her like this.
“When?”
“January 1689.”
David’s first reaction was to fly off the handle, but he knew Stella too well. She wasn’t some fanciful young girl; she was a sensible middle-aged woman. He took a sip of his tea to give himself a moment to calm down, set down his mug, and faced Stella across the table.
“Please explain.”
“David, Max Everly is dead. He died in April 1689 at the Tower of London.”
“I just saw Max Everly at the hospital.”
“Are you sure?” Stella asked, watching him slyly. David thought back to his interaction with Max. He hadn’t actually seen him up close since his dramatic return nearly two months ago. He’d expected Max to make an appointment for a physical after his return, but Max never rang. Yesterday was the first time they’d come face to face. He did notice that something about Max was off, but he’d been through a lot and was bound to seem different. Any type of breakdown always left its imprint on the person, even if they managed to recover and soldier on.
“Are you saying that man is not Max?” David asked, finally realizing what Stella was trying to tell him.
“I’m saying that there are some things in this world which don’t always make sense. Digging into this case will not help anyone. Now, do you promise to be kind to the girl?”
“Will you not tell me what’s going on?”
“Not right now. Tend to her first, then we’ll talk.”
David Lomax got to his feet, feeling utterly perplexed. Stella was talking in riddles. 1689 — what utter rot. He’d have to convince her to come by the surgery for a check-up. Perhaps this was a symptom of something, early onset of what?! Raving lunacy? But right now it was his duty to help a woman in need, and whatever all this was about had no bearing on that. He would refrain from asking questions, as promised, but he would glean whatever information he could nonetheless — tactfully.
David followed Stella up the stairs, medical bag in hand. Stella had always been in good shape, but she stopped on the second-floor landing, as if to catch her breath. David stared at the portrait hanging directly above him. The insolent dark gaze fixed on him as if the picture were alive. He felt something shift in his gut, but refused to acknowledge what he was seeing, at least out loud. The man in the portrait was the man he’d just left behind at the hospital.
Chapter 60
Doctor Lomax gave me a look that could curdle milk, but refrained from expressing an opinion on the strange goings-on of the past two days. He was clearly confused by whatever Stella had chosen to tell him. She said she’d have a chat with him before taking him up to Frances, and judging by the pinched look on the man’s face, I’d say it didn’t go as well as expected. The doctor looked away from me and focused on Frances, who was lying on the bed, her eyes round with worry. I was relieved to see his expression soften. No one could be cross with Frances.
“Would you mind waiting outside?” he asked me, but Frances instantly grew agitated.
“I’d like her lady… Neve to stay, please,” she pleaded.
I was glad that Frances asserted herself. She’d feel somewhat more relaxed with me there, and I could make sure that Doctor Lomax didn’t put any undue pressure on her to tell him more than she had been coached to. I hoped that everything was all right, though. The poor girl had been through enough, and to lose a baby she’d longed for so badly would be a blow she might not be able to recover from. Random pains were normal during pregnancy, but given the amount of stress Frances had been under and the fact that she’d practically carried Archie, there was definitely cause for concern.
Doctor Lomax nodded, then sat down next to Frances on the bed. “I’m Doctor Lomax, and you are?”
“Frances,” she answered shyly.
“And how old are you, Frances?”
“Eighteen.”
He didn’t seem in any rush to examine her. Instead, he took her hand and measured her pulse. I noticed that he looked very carefully at her wrist, before turning to look at her ankles. I suppose he needed to see if they were swollen. Doctor Lomax opened his medical bag and withdrew a stethoscope and a blood pressure armband. “You’re awfully thin, Frances. Have you been eating normally?”
“Not recently, no. We didn’t have much food after we left Guilford,” she replied guilelessly.
“Why is that?” the doctor asked gently, but Frances didn’t elaborate.
“You need to eat for your baby.”
“I know,” Frances replied. “Mrs. Harding has been feeding me what seems like every hour,” Frances supplied. “I’ve never eaten such marvelous things.”
“Do you know when you might have conceived?”
“Sometime in March.”
Doctor Lomax nodded and began to palpate Frances’s stomach. “And you’ve been having some pains?”
“I didn’t have any pains the first time, but this time, I keep getting these sudden, sharp pains,” Frances said. Her eyes flew to my face as she realized what she just said. Doctor Lomax stopped what he was doing and looked at her closely.
“Do you have another child, Frances?”
“No.”
“But you said…,” Doctor Lomax asked, watching her intently.
“He died.”
“What wa
s the cause of death, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“He came early. He wasn’t strong enough.” Frances looked like she was about to weep, so Doctor Lomax patted her hand gently and changed the subject.
“May I examine you now, Frances?”
“Yes,” Frances whispered.
Doctor Lomax pulled on a pair of latex gloves and performed an internal exam. Frances exhaled audibly when he finished, as if she’d expected him to cause her pain.
“Is my baby all right?” she asked, her voice shaking badly. I could see that Doctor Lomax, who was normally a calm, cool presence, was deeply affected by Frances. His eyes were gentle behind his rimless specs, and he looked as if he were fighting the urge to give Frances a fatherly hug. He opted to take her hand instead and give it a reassuring squeeze.
“I think it’s just fine. You need to rest and eat well. May I see you outside, Ms. Ashley?” Doctor Lomax said to me as he packed up his gear. He motioned for me to follow him downstairs to the front room, and turned on me as soon as I closed the door, his anger palpable.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but whatever it is, keep me out of it. That girl is malnourished and most likely anemic. It’s a wonder she hasn’t lost her baby, and there’s no guarantee she won’t if she doesn’t get proper care. Not to mention that she looks like a minor. She doesn’t look a day over fifteen. Who is she, and what is her relationship to that young man? Is she the one who stabbed him? I have a good mind to go to the police.”
Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5) Page 32