Fields of Blue Flax

by Sue Lawrence

  ‘He squeezed my hand!’ she cried, elated.

  The young nurse smiled and said, ‘He’ll need to sleep. It’s the only way he’ll get fully fit again.’

  There was a tap on the window – it was Gerry and Doug. ‘He knew his address, Gerry.’ She said, beaming, as her husband entered the room.

  ‘Mags and Lottie have gone to see Anna,’ said Doug. ‘But I wanted to see Jack.’ His voice faltered as he looked down at Jack. ‘My God, is he… How is he?’

  ‘He’s going to be fine,’ said Chris, looking at Gerry. ‘He remembered his birthday – and his address.’

  Doug was bent low over Jack. He pressed his lips tightly together, and his eyes welled up. ‘Can I touch him? I don’t want to hurt him.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Nurse Yates. ‘Gently.’

  Doug took Jack’s hand in shaking fingers. ‘He’s really going to be okay? I was – we were – so worried.’ He shut his eyes and bent his head down as if in prayer.

  Chapter Twelve

  1872

  ‘Elizabeth, get the bone knife oot o’ the drawer. Come an’ I’ll show ye how to get rid o’ the hairs.’

  ‘What hairs, Mrs Malcolm?’

  ‘Dinnae call me that, have I no’ telt you often enough, it’s Jessie. We’re near enough family.’

  ‘What hairs, Jessie?’ They were standing in the dairy of Strathmartine farmhouse, leaning over the wooden table. In front of them was a large pat of butter. Elizabeth had just been shown how to make butter in the swing churn, then work it into a pat with wooden paddles.

  ‘The cows’ hairs. Even though there shouldnae be any, there’s aye some left in there, so here’s how I use the knife tae’ howk them out. And only use this bone handle knife here, mind, dinnae use any others.’

  She did a few then looked at Elizabeth, whose eyes were cast down, concentrating on what the older woman was teaching her. She was a diligent child, she only rarely frowned, her cheerful mien part of her charm. She loved helping Cook and endeavoured to take each task seriously. Her other duties in the laundry and around the house she undertook with relish, as if the discovery of new things was life’s purpose.

  Elizabeth took the knife from Jessie and continued with the task.

  ‘You ken the mistress is wanting you to start serving at table, maybe next Sunday when they’ve got the minister for dinner. What d’you think tae that?’

  Elizabeth’s expression was eager as she looked up. She smiled at the diminutive woman who had become a mother figure to her since her arrival at Strathmartine the previous year. ‘Aye, if that’s what the mistress wants. I’ll need to hae some lessons on how it’s a’ done, mind. I’ve never served in the big dining room before.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, she’s been wanting you to serve at table for ages now, so we’ll maybe get you started tomorrow morning in the breakfast room. But when there’s visitors, just remember if anyone asks your age, you’re fourteen.’

  ‘Aye, you telt me, I’m not to tell anyone I’m only twelve.’

  ‘Just as well you’re sae tall, Elizabeth, you could pass for eighteen almost. And your mother’s no bigger than me; dinnae ken where you got your height from.’ Jessie shook her head. ‘You’re lucky, though you’ll need tae find a giant o’ a man to marry, they dinnae like to look up to us women.’

  ‘Dinnae want tae marry, men are stupid.’ Elizabeth put down her knife. ‘Well, no’ the master of course, but a’ the others are.’

  Jessie laughed and began to wrap the butter up in squares of cheesecloth.

  ‘Will the mistress be playing the piano after dinner like she does sometimes?’

  ‘Aye, she likely will.’

  ‘It’s just that, maybe I could be allowed tae turn the pages for her? She cannae really dae that herself, can she?’

  Jessie looked at her, frowning. ‘Now, what would a lassie like you ken about the piano?’

  ‘I ken a bit, enough to follow the music. I like the piano, I really do.’

  ‘Well, well, fancy that. I can mention it tae her if you like.’

  ‘Thanks. Shall I go and fetch the eggs now for the bairns’ tea?’

  ‘Aye, out you go. Mind and fasten everything up tight in the henhouse, I heard that fox roaming around again last night,’ said Jessie, wiping down the scrubbed wooden table as she watched Elizabeth skip off towards the henhouse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  2014

  ‘Don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat a fried egg, Chris,’ said Mags, ‘and you’ve got three on your plate.’

  ‘Have I?’ Christine was in a daze as she sat down in the hospital café. ‘The woman at the servery just gave them to me. I can’t remember what I asked for.’

  ‘They’ll be good for you,’ said Gerry. ‘Here’s your coffee.’

  Christine took the cup from her husband and nodded her thanks without looking at him.

  It was the morning after the accident and Christine, Gerry, Mags and Doug sat around the table, eating. Very few words were exchanged. They all looked up as Lottie joined them with her tray. ‘So we’re getting Anna out after breakfast, Auntie Chris?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart.’ She stroked Lottie’s wavy brown hair and looked down at her plate. ‘It’s Jack we just don’t know about.’ She cut into an egg and stared at the yolk as it oozed over the plate.

  ‘Sounds like it’s just concussion now. He looked better this morning.’ Gerry rammed a large bap with two sausages into his mouth.

  ‘He looked just the same, Gerry, and he was sound asleep. We have no idea how he really is.’ Christine winced as she watched her husband wipe a splatter of sausage grease off his beard.

  ‘I’ll go up with you after breakfast, if that’s okay,’ said Mags. ‘I never saw him last night.’

  She turned to Lottie, who was spooning yoghurt on her fruit salad. ‘Is that all you’re having, darling?’ asked Mags. ‘Could be a long day, why don’t you…’

  ‘Mum, I’m fine.’ Lottie’s long fingers strummed against the table as she turned to Christine. ‘Auntie Chris, when I’m finished, I can go and help Anna get ready. Then we can come and join you in Jack’s ward later?’

  ‘Thanks, sweetheart,’ said Christine, patting her niece’s hand. ‘Hopefully he’ll get out of ITU and into HDU later.’

  ‘Ever upwards!’ said Mags, forcing a smile. ‘And you guys just say when you want us to go. We don’t want to impose. We could drive back up the road and collect some things for you?’

  ‘It’s okay, Mags,’ said Christine.

  They finished their food in silence.

  ‘Dad, are you okay?’ said Lottie. ‘You look terrible.’

  Doug looked up through bloodshot eyes. ‘Slept badly, Lotts. I’ve got a thudding head – bloody Premier Inn and their promise of guaranteed sleep!’

  ‘I said you could have complained when that stag party started up in the corridor at three am. You’d have got your money back, it’s part of the deal,’ said Mags, patting his arm.

  ‘I know, darling, but I kept thinking they’d quieten down and then…’

  ‘And then they partied till dawn!’ Lottie pushed her half-finished bowl away from her. ‘Shall I go and get Anna out and you can go and see Jack, Auntie Chris?’

  Mags screwed up her paper napkin and tossed it onto her plate. ‘I’ll come with you, Chris. Anytime you’re ready, let’s go.’

  ‘Now’s good,’ said Christine. ‘I can’t eat any more.’

  At the door to the ITU ward, Christine and Mags found Doctor Ali frowning over some notes.

  ‘Ah, Mrs Wallace, your son’s just been transferred to HDU, along the corridor there. Doctor McNally’s in charge, he’ll tell you what the latest is.’ She pointed them in the right direction and then hurried away, looking down at her beeper.

  They strode along the corridor to the sign that read HDU and rang the buzzer then were taken to a bay of four beds. One of the beds was vacant and as Christine began to read the notes at the end of the bed there w
as a noise behind them. They both turned to see two nurses holding Jack in a standing position between them.

  ‘Jack, darling!’ Christine lunged towards her son and kissed him.

  ‘We thought he could try a little walk before we put the catheter back in,’ said one of the nurses, smiling, ‘and he’s done all right, haven’t you, pet.’

  Jack sat down on his bed with a thump then lay back against the pillow.

  ‘How is he?’ Christine whispered.

  ‘Doctor McNally will be round in a minute, he can tell you himself,’ said the other nurse, pulling the curtains round the bed. She started to fit the catheter and Mags looked discreetly away. Once it was done, Christine gently adjusted the blankets around him and Mags came to stand beside her cousin as the nurses drew back the curtains.

  ‘Jack, you’ve given us all such a fright, sweetheart, but it’s all going to be fine now.’ Mags stroked his cropped dark hair.

  Jack opened his eyes a fraction and gave his mother and aunt a flicker of a smile.

  ‘Jack, darling,’ said Christine, grabbing his hand, ‘it’s so good to see you awake!’

  There was a rustle of curtains and they looked round.’ Hello there,’ interrupted a short, stout man, his bald pate sun-freckled. ‘I’m Dr McNally. Are you Jack’s mum?’ He was looking at Mags, who nodded over at Christine.

  ‘How is he?’ asked Christine.

  ‘He’s going to be fine,’ said Doctor McNally, in his strong Irish accent. ‘We have a few more tests to run, Glasgow coma scale and so on, but he should only be in here a day, then onto a general ward for a couple of days then home. We suspect he suffered a delayed concussion from rugby, exacerbated by the RTA. It’s not been the serious head injuries we first suspected, but Jack has sustained a minor injury to his pelvis. It’s what’s known as an avulsion fracture, where a piece of bone is pulled away from the pelvis. In addition to this, he’s cracked a couple of ribs. We’ll give him crutches but rest and recovery at home is the best course with this.’

  Dr McNally took a slim torch out of his pocket. ‘Jack, can you open your eyes for me?’ Jack blearily opened his eyes as the doctor shone the torch into each pupil. ‘He’s going to be fine. Don’t worry, Mrs Wallace. A bit of physio might help too, but you can probably get him home soon.’ He smiled. ‘I’ll be back later.’

  As he left, he drew back the curtains and Christine whispered, ‘I think I’m in love with Doctor McNally, Mags!’

  Jack opened his eyes wide and looked up at his mother, as if checking she were still there.

  ‘Don’t worry, darling, go back to sleep now,’ said Christine. ‘You need to rest.’

  ‘I’ve never really noticed before,’ said Mags, ‘but Jack’s eyes are so brown, they’re almost black. What a contrast to yours, Chris.’

  ‘They probably look even darker right now because his face is so pale. Well, apart from the purple bruises.’ Mags grasped her cousin’s hand. ‘Wasn’t that brilliant what the doctor said? He’s going to be fine!’

  Christine gazed at her son. ‘If I were religious, I’d have thanked God for answering our prayers.’

  An hour or so later, Anna limped into the ward, her face still black and blue.

  ‘Jack Duncan, what the hell happened to you!’

  Jack smiled blearily on hearing his sister’s voice. She rushed forward and gave him a hug.

  ‘Watch out,’ snapped Christine. ‘He’s all bruised.’

  ‘And I’m not, Mum?’ Anna jabbed a finger at the bruises on her face.

  ‘Sorry, darling.’ Christine took her daughter’s swollen face between the palms of her hands and kissed her forehead. ‘You’ve got to take it easy, though. Here, why don’t you sit down in my seat? I’m off to the loo.’

  Anna sat down. ‘So how’s he doing, Auntie Mags?’

  ‘Well the doctor reckons it’s just the delayed concussion from rugby, but he’s still got to run some more tests. He’s got two cracked ribs, and he might have a slight limp for a while as he’s got a small pelvic fracture. Apart from the bruises, he looks pretty good doesn’t he?’

  ‘Better than he usually does,’ said Anna, grinning. ‘Oh, I was to tell you and Mum the others are coming up soon. Once Lottie’s seen Jack, she and I are going to go and grab a coffee.’

  ‘Okay, darling. When will you get your bags from the police?’

  ‘Dad’s got to go to the police station later so maybe then?’

  ‘Hopefully.’

  ‘Auntie Mags,’ said Anna, slowly. ‘Do you think… I don’t know, that Mum and Dad are okay? I mean, they just seemed to be sniping at each other all the time when they were in my ward, and Lottie said it was the same last night in the hotel too.’

  ‘It’s the stress, darling; you have no idea what a fright we all got.’ Mags gave Anna a hesitant hug, nervous about touching her bruises. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll all be fine, just wait and see.’

  Christine arrived back at the bedside, followed by Lottie, who bent down to give Jack a kiss on the cheek.

  Mags pulled a chair forward for Chris. ‘Everything’s going to be okay now,’ she said, taking her cousin’s hand again.

  ‘Oh, Mum,’ said Lottie. ‘I’m to tell you that Dad and Uncle Gerry are off to the garage to sort out the car, they’ll be back in a couple of hours.’

  ‘Okay. How was Dad?’ Mags asked.

  ‘Better. A lot calmer now that Jack’s out of intensive care.’

  ‘Yeah, Uncle Doug was a wreck, wasn’t he,’ said Anna. ‘Dad managed to hold it together pretty well though.’ Then she whispered loudly towards her brother, ‘But hey, Dad never really liked you anyway, Jack Wallace!’ She grinned and flicked her brother’s hand with her fingers. He smiled weakly, without opening his eyes.

  ‘Only joking, beanpole,’ she said, giving his hand a squeeze.

  Christine withdrew her hand from her cousin’s clasp and took a tissue from her pocket. ‘Some Easter this has been,’ she said, shaking her head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  2014

  A week later, Mags was stirring a pan of soup in her kitchen while the sound of piano music reverberated through the house. She loved to play Lottie’s piano CDs when she was cooking and this was one of her favourite composers, Ravel; perfect to peel, chop and stir to. She had just phoned Christine to suggest a visit to Register House. Mags was worried about her cousin; she was fraught all the time, even though Jack was recovering well. Gerry had told Doug she was mollycoddling him but no one wanted to tell her to back off.

  Mags thought she might distract her with the family history project, but Christine had said she definitely had no time to do any more research. Mags wondered if she might go alone, to continue the search for Elizabeth Barrie.

  And to think, I was the one not interested in the family history at all, she mused as she ground black pepper into the pan. She tasted the soup then added a little salt.

  She took out her mezzaluna and started chopping some parsley, mulling over something Christine had said the day before.

  Mags had popped in to visit Jack and catch up with Christine. Anna joined them, and they all sat around Jack’s bed. Anna scolded her brother for being in bed, telling him he needed to get up and move around.

  ‘I want to be up, it’s Mum who’s not letting me.’

  ‘The doctor said you need to rest.’

  ‘Not all day though, Mum,’ said Anna.

  ‘I’m going to start getting up at lunchtime at least. I feel fine, just a bit tired.’ Jack took a sip of water from the tray on his bedside table and looked pleadingly to Christine.

  ‘I don’t want you to overdo it, Jack. Remember you said you still had a bit of blurred vision when we walked round the block yesterday.’

  ‘Limped round the block!’ Anna laughed.

  ‘At least I never had puffy black eyes like yours,’ he said, lying back against the pillow. He looked up at his mother’s anxious expression. ‘Mum, I was fine after the walk, don’t exaggerate.’
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br />   ‘Mum, stop treating him like an invalid. Beanpole’s fine. Though he’s gonna become Fatboy if he lounges in bed much longer,’ said Anna, smirking.

  He grinned and hit out at his sister but she leapt off the bed. ‘Right, I’m out of here. Meeting Lottie for a catch-up at her flat.’

  Later, as Christine saw Mags out the front door, she said, ‘I’ve been trying to find out as much as possible about Colin Clarkson.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘You know, the guy who rammed their car, caused the accident.’

  Mags was putting on her coat. She turned round, an incredulous look on her face. ‘Why?’

  Christine’s blue eyes flashed with anger. ‘Because he almost killed my two children. Isn’t it obvious?’

  Mags continued fastening the buttons on her coat then said, ‘Chris, is this a good idea? What’s the point? Surely there’ll be a court case and he’ll plead guilty and…’

  ‘He might not plead guilty – he might not even appear in court. It’s the magistrates’ court in Gateshead.’ Christine twisted her hands round and round. ‘He lives in West Yorkshire – Pontefract – and I just have the feeling he won’t attend and then…’

  ‘What’s this got to do with Jack and his recovery?’

  ‘I want him to suffer. He can’t get away with it.’

  ‘Chris, don’t talk like that.’ She pulled up the collar of her coat. ‘How do you know where he lives anyway?’

  ‘We were sent the police report for our insurance company, it had all his details, including his address.’

  Mags had given her cousin a hug and stepped outside, promising to phone her the next day. She had brushed off Christine’s outburst as a reaction to the stress she was under, but as she stood chopping parsley she found she couldn’t get Christine’s twisted expression out of her mind.

  The following day, Christine was in her kitchen ladling soup from a large pan into a blender. She put a tea towel over the lid and switched it on. There was a whoosh of green from the base as the lid and tea towel flew off and the contents splattered against the white wall and over the coffee machine. The thick gloop trickled slowly down the sides.