‘Emilia’s suggested we give it a week. If Jenna’s not put on any weight by the end we’ll seek specialist advice.’ Alec had someone in mind, his lawyer’s son, Doctor Reggie Rule, the pediatrician Selina Bosweld had consulted about his character.
Sara approached them on her way to the dairy to scald the morning’s milk to begin the process of producing trays of thick, golden cream which would find its way into many of the county’s shops, hotels and guest houses, and much further afield. ‘Jim’s holding the pony for you, Mr Rowse. He says she’s getting skittish.’
‘So that’s where he is. I thought Midge had harnessed the market cart.’ Alec massaged his temples. His head was aching so much it felt about to explode.
‘He did but left for the fields, not thinking Mr Rowse would be so long,’ Sara replied, hoping her remark would not be considered disrespectful. She was eager for Jim not to get into any more trouble. Since he had taken up with this mysterious girl, whose identity he was refusing, unusually, to share with her, he was even more big-headed and his tiredness was making him grouchy and unco-operative.
‘I’d better be off then.’ Edwin made haste away, his head down. Always a little bent over, the smoke from his pipe drifted back from an even lower level today.
‘Mrs Em’s taken the baby out for a walk in the pram,’ Sara said quickly, before Alec moved off or got lost in thought. ‘She said it would do her good.’
‘It will. Was Jenna wakeful?’
‘No, fast asleep.’
‘Was she pale?’
His eyes were boring into her, demanding answers. Making Sara both timid and rapt to be receiving such close scrutiny. ‘Um, she had lots of colour, I thought, when I took a peep at her.’
‘That’s good.’ It was something to cling to, but not enough. ‘Tell Jim to make a start here on his own scraping down the wagon. Tell him also that he’s not to leave the yard today.’ Alec needed to be alone, with no distractions. He needed to concentrate harder than he ever had done before. To will Jenna better. To pray good health into her. In a drawer of his desk he had a growing collection of good luck charms. He would take them to the church, to call on any and all powers, to plead for a safe and happy future for his child.
‘You don’t look well, Alec. Can I get you something?’
‘What?’ He had half turned away and the silvery sweet voice had broken through his urgent strategy like a violation.
Sara leapt back. Her moment of bravery in keeping him with her a little longer had gone horribly wrong. Her remark and her question had been personal. Although her master usually insisted everyone call him by his first name, having no time for what he called petty convention, she had never done so before. She had breached propriety and was in for a well-deserved reprimand. Her heart dropped like a stone. He would never see her as anything but a lower-class servant who should remember her place. Worse still, he might now think her a nuisance.
‘My goodness, Sara, did I snap?’ His hand came to rest on her shoulder. ‘You look shaken. I didn’t mean to frighten you.’
‘No, I… I, um, just thought you looked a bit poorly, that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. You were being kind and here’s me barking the wits out of you. I do have a headache. I’m going to take a breath of air. You run along.’
Although he was dejected, Alec’s long athletic strides took him quickly out of her sight. Rooted to the ground, Sara rubbed a hand where he had touched her. She turned her head and sniffed that sacred place, her excitement making her believe she could detect the smell of him there. Her tummy did crazy somersaults. Her head soared up to the sky and she broke into a joyful version of ‘You Made Me Love You’. How she wished she could make him love her, and keep the sensation of his touch, his wonderful masculine essence on her for ever. She had an idea where he was going. Long Meadow was one of his favourite places when he wanted to be alone. How she wished she could run on ahead of him, find herself a little hiding place there and curl up and watch him.
A lonely half a mile on from Devil’s Arch, the church offered Alec the privacy and isolation he desired. He sat at the end of a pew beyond the north aisle, the oldest and darkest part of the echoing, cold building, and spread his lucky charms – cheap tin animal shapes, silver horseshoes, dry and disintegrated sprays of heather – along the hymn book ledge in front of him. He called on each talisman separately to do its work. He had also brought the gold cross, that had once been his grandmother’s, from Emilia’s jewellery box. Gripping the cross so tightly its holy shape was impressed upon his flesh he stared ahead, imploring the half life-size crucified Christ fashioned from polished mahogany up on the wall near the altar for His divine intervention.
‘Please,’ he whispered. ‘It wasn’t your Father’s will for my first child to survive when Lucy sought to purposely destroy it inside her, nor for my brother, Henry, to come through the war. Please don’t let my little Jenna be taken away from Emilia and I. I’m sorry for being weak, but I don’t think I could bear it.’
It was closing in on midday when his leaden feet were crunching back down the gravelled, weed-strewn path outside. He felt as cold as ice and the earnest warmth of the sun did nothing to give him ease or comfort. He didn’t hear the rooks cawing from tree to tree or notice the glorious yellow and pink primroses and the bright blue speedwell spilling over the banks and graves.
The rectory was only a few hundred yards away, hiding behind a tall hedge and trees of sycamore and ash. He and Emilia had only been there two days ago to arrange Jenna’s christening, which was to be held on Sunday afternoon. He could go there now and ask the staid, but kindly, rector to pray with him for Jenna. But he couldn’t bear it if he was told he was probably worrying over nothing, or that God’s will was God’s will and was not to be questioned, or that whatever Jenna’s fate might be God knew what was best for her. He didn’t want to be reminded of one of the rector’s favourite expositions: that whatever happened in life, God gave those who called on Him the strength to see it through.
Alec fell down on the churchyard steps and wept. ‘It’s not strength I’m asking for, Lord. I just want my little girl to be all right.’
Chapter Eight
Holding Jenna in her arms Emilia knocked on the door of Ford House. She was surprised by who answered it.
‘Doctor Rule! Reggie.’
‘Mrs Harvey. Emilia. How good to see you. So this is the latest addition to your family? It’s a pity you’re arriving the very same instant I’m leaving. Got a clinic in an hour, you see.’ Reggie Rule had dull hair parted in the centre and a full moustache that overwhelmed his small, boyish face. He was dressed in a long leather coat and boots suitable to his mode of transport, an adventurous motorcycle. He was carrying a medical bag and a leather helmet; a pair of goggles was hanging round his neck. His father often lamented that Reggie was wasting his highly attained skills by not setting himself up in Harley Street, in the capital. He was a pleasant fellow who lived alone, reserved and bookish, kind and obliging, content to practise his profession in the place of his birth.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, Reggie. You’re the very person I wish to see. Please don’t go yet, I promise I won’t keep you long.’ Emilia wasn’t usually so forthright, so demanding, but after spending another night agonizing over Jenna, when she had been forced from time to time to labour to hear her breathing, she was desperate.
‘Really? Do go into the parlour. I’ll follow on after you. I’m afraid that Selina’s not long left for duty at the hospital, but Perry’s there. We’ve had a late night at cards. I hear they’re off to Ben’s for dinner tonight. Are you and Alec going?’
‘No, we’re not.’ The last thing Emilia wanted was to get into a conversation involving Ben. While Alec had been putting the overnight cases into the motor car at Roskerne, Ben had blustered outside to him and there had been another heated exchange, ending with Ben shouting, ‘To hell with you then!’ and speeding off in his own vehicle. She did not share Al
ec’s belief about Ben ill-wishing them, of being responsible for Jenna’s distress, but she had suffered enough of his loutish behaviour.
She burst into the parlour. ‘Good morning, Perry. Sorry to drop in unannounced.’
Perry smiled from where he was leaning on his crutches while spreading a small square table with sheets of newspaper. ‘Not at all, Emilia. You’re welcome at any time. How wonderful, you’ve brought the baby. Selina will be sorry to have missed you both.’ On the sideboard was a tin tray loaded with pots of paint and glue, scraps of cloth and other oddments. ‘This is for Libby, for when she and Mirelle get back from viewing the blacksmith’s puppies again; can’t keep Libby away from them. You know Reggie, of course. Have you come about the school concert next week? Miss Rawley declined any help from us. I’m afraid she didn’t take to Selina. Selina does have an unfortunate way of putting some people off. Can I get you some coffee? Or tea? I manage very well in the kitchen when Mirelle’s not there to chase me out, you know.’
‘I think Emilia’s here on a serious matter, Perry,’ Reggie said, discarding his travelling appendages and removing his coat.
‘I’m sorry for taking advantage of you both like this. I came here for help. The thing is, I’m so worried about Jenna. Could I call on your professional skills? Specially yours, Reggie, you know all about children’s diseases.’ Her brow creasing more and more in anxiety, Emilia looked persuasively from former surgeon to doctor. Both were interested in what she had to say and seemed so intent on helping her, it made her eyes fill with tears. She told them the details of Jenna’s birth and her brief medical history, about the nightmare event at Roskerne and Dr Holloway’s terse agreement with the diagnosis given by Winifred’s doctor.
‘You’ll think me an over-anxious mother too, but I know there’s something wrong with Jenna. I feel it right here.’ She pressed a hand over her heart. ‘Would either or both of you take a look at her, please? I’ll pay for the consultation.’
Perry and Reggie exchanged a look of understanding and Emilia was heartened.
Perry said, ‘We would be happy to examine your little girl and we wouldn’t dream of accepting payment for it. Bring her into my bedroom, Emilia, and lay her on the bed. Reggie, would you fetch my bag? You’ll find it at the bottom of the wardrobe.’
It was a high double bed covered with an oatmeal-coloured, textured counterpane and when Emilia laid Jenna down on it she looked like a little lost soul on a sea of grain. She was drowsy and not making a sound, and she was pink, a vivid unnatural pink, her lips and chin a pallid white, tinged with greyish-blue. After resting his crutches beside the shiny mahogany headboard, Perry sat down on the bed close to Jenna. Emilia was aware of the two men studying Jenna as she undressed her, then, with a horrid feeling that she was somehow abandoning her baby, she stood back and watched anxiously as they took turns to apply their gentle-handed skills on her.
In addition to the usual observations, again and again they shone a light into Jenna’s eyes and tried her reflexes and listened to her chest with their stethoscopes. At one point, Perry clapped his hands together close beside her ears. Jenna was not the least bit startled but Emilia cried out in alarm. During one moment it seemed Reggie was staring down at Jenna, while holding his breath and massaging her chest. Every now and then throughout the meticulous examination the two men glanced at each other. There was a certain nod, a soft drawn-out sigh, a tightening of mouths, as if conveying some secret code.
Finally, the medical instruments were put away. Perry repinned Jenna’s nappy. He wrapped her in her shawl and lifted her into his arms. He cradled her and kissed her forehead.
It had all happened in about fifteen minutes but those minutes had crawled by for Emilia. A long, agonizing time and a horribly short time in which to have her fears confirmed, as she was sure they would be, for she believed firmly, absolutely, that Jenna was unhealthy, or abnormal, or was never likely to thrive.
‘Well?’ Without knowing it she took a step backwards.
Reggie was gazing down at the floor, expressionless but not guarded. He looked up at Emilia and smiled. It was a feeble smile, as if it held a forlorn meaning.
Emilia was jigging on her feet. Fear was cramping her heart. ‘What is it?’
Reggie shot a look at Perry.
‘You go ahead, Reggie. You’re the expert,’ Perry said. He patted the bed beside him. ‘Why don’t you sit here, Emilia?’
She had been expecting bad news and now she was about to get it. She shouldn’t have come. This terrible moment could have been delayed. All she could do was to shake her head.
‘Emilia,’ Reggie began in a way that was soft and soothing, and chilling. ‘I think we should all go up to the farm and get someone to fetch Alec. He should hear this too.’
‘No! I can’t wait that long and you don’t know Alec. He doesn’t know I’m here. It’s better you tell me first. He’ll take any bad news hard. It’s very bad, isn’t it?’
‘I’m going to insist you sit down, Emilia.’ Reggie touched her arm and she jolted forward, regaining that lonely retreating step she had taken a minute ago. On legs of ice she obeyed him, perching on the edge of the monstrous bed where she had laid down her little girl, where for a few moments of time she had given up control of her and placed her fate in the hands of others.
Reggie joined her and took her hand. She was sandwiched between the two men. They were seeking to protect her but were only adding to her misery. She kept her eyes on her baby. Her Jenna. Her precious little daughter. The first girl born into the Harvey family in four generations. She was wanted and loved so much. And she was so tiny, so comfortable in Perry’s tender arms.
Reggie drew in a soft breath. Emilia crushed his hand, not wanting to hear, yet needing to know his expert opinion. His voice travelled down her ear like a thundering storm, each word an affront, a cruel affliction. ‘Emilia, as you’ve noticed for yourself, your little girl has few of the correct reflexes. I don’t need to make further investigations as to the reason why. I am convinced she has cerebral palsy. She’s a spastic. It may have been caused at her birth, when she may have been starved of oxygen for a little too long, but it’s my belief she didn’t form properly in the womb.’
Numb, as if in a dreadful dream, knowing the tide of dreadful tears would come later, Emilia reached out a hand and touched Jenna’s slumbering face. She whispered, ‘I knew it was something…’
‘And—’
‘And? No ands. We’ll love her just the same. Now we know, we’ll do our very best for her. We have two healthy boys and she’s our special baby.’
‘Yes, she is your special baby and she always will be. I’m very sorry to add to your misery, Emilia, but I have to tell you that Jenna is also blind and deaf. Perry has intimated his agreement to me on all these matters. We are both so very sorry. I can’t tell you how much we feel for you.’ Emilia stared all round the room. She noticed the addition of weightlifting equipment to the usual bedroom furniture. It was odd, peculiar here. No, she wasn’t really here, learning all these terrible things about her daughter, being told that nature had played cruel tricks on her baby, the most vulnerable person in her life. The walls closed in on her. The pattern on the wallpaper, of sunflowers, turned into grotesque mocking shapes.
She was weeping, as soundlessly as Jenna usually did. She stretched out her arms to her. ‘My poor little girl. Give her to me, please.’
Reggie restrained her and was suddenly holding her by the shoulders. Tightly. ‘Emilia, you’ll need to be very strong.’
‘Of course I’ll be strong! Jenna won’t be able to see or hear us and she’ll need lots of attention as she grows up, but she’ll know she has a family who loves her and will always protect her. She’ll know that all of us think she’s worth it. Let me go, Reggie. Let go of me. I want my baby. You’re behaving as if there’s something worse. What could be worse than what you’ve already told me?’
She stared into each male face. Still and gaunt they were, an
d so full of understanding and so sorry for her. She hated them just for that moment. Then her whole world became distorted and collapsed all around her. No! What these two men were trying to tell her was worse than her direst imaginings.
This was crazy. It couldn’t be right. It just couldn’t be. She was here, with none of her family or friends to support her, being told her baby was more than a weakling, that she was malformed and hopelessly damaged and had no future. That she was dying! That her Jenna was going to die.
She heard Perry’s voice above the appalling confusion in her mind, the crushing pain in her soul. ‘It’s her heart, Emilia. If the two GPs had been a little more conscientious they would have heard the abnormal echoes in the chambers of her heart and sent you to someone like Reggie for a proper diagnosis.’
‘I’m afraid there’s nothing that can be done in Jenna’s case, Emilia,’ Reggie said. ‘She actually stopped breathing for several seconds while I was listening to her heart. It’s very weak. All I can do now is to assure you that she’s not suffering. She won’t suffer.’
While Reggie kept holding her, Perry put Jenna into her arms.
Hugging Jenna into her body, Emilia cried over her. ‘Wh-when…? How long?’
Someone was stroking her hair. She didn’t know who it was out of these two kind, gentle men. She didn’t know which one of them whispered, ‘At any time now.’
‘Oh, God! Oh, my God! She’s only three and a half weeks old! Oh, Jenna, Mummy’s sorry. Don’t die. Please don’t leave me.’
‘You can cry, Emilia. Cry for as long as you want,’ Perry said. ‘Then we’ll see about taking you home.’
‘Home? That’s where I have to be,’ she sobbed. ‘But how am I going to tell him? How am I going to tell Alec?’
Chapter Nine
Ben sent his foreman over to fetch the Boswelds and got his housekeeper to open the door to them. He had set an earlier time of arrival for Polly Hetherton and Julian Andrews and they were already ensconced in the drawing room, having unpacked for an overnight stay. Not wanting to entertain at all he kept the company waiting, listening at the door.
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