by Martha Long
‘Here we are,’ he said, opening the door and carrying me straight over to the bed. I could see it was made up with lovely crisp white-linen sheets and embroidered pillowcases to match. The bedclothes were folded back ready for me to lie in.
He put me sitting at the end of the bed and took off my dressing gown. But it was his, really. Then he said, ‘I will get you a fresh pair,’ heading over to the wardrobe. He took out a pair of cotton pyjamas I hardly wore but had brought anyway just in case I might need them. ‘Now, darling, strip off your things and sponge yourself quickly. Then give yourself a good rub down with the towel. I will go and get my medical bag. Do you need any help?’
‘No,’ I shook me head, just wanting to get back into the bed. I dropped the flannel into the hot water in the big washbowl and drenched my face. Then I wrung out the cloth and wiped down my neck and arms, squeezing and washing. Oh, I feel dizzy and cold, and it hurts like mad trying to take a breath. Now I feel like getting sick. Oh, let me get out of this. I just want to get back into the bed, I shivered, dumping the cloth in the water and lifting the big white bath towel, wrapping it around me.
I took up the hand towel and started to dry my face and arms. Ralph knocked and came into the room, seeing me shivering as I tried to dry myself with the towel wrapped around me.
‘Darling, come quickly! We must get you into bed,’ he said, rushing over to drop his brown Gladstone bag, leaving it sitting next to the big, old heavy press pushed in against the far wall. Then he lifted me off my feet and set me sitting on the end of the bed again and started rubbing my back and arms with the towel. A red-hot pain went through my back and chest, cutting me like a sharp knife. I moaned, trying to push him away.
‘Oh, Martha! Do you have pain? Is it in your back?’
I nodded.
‘Do you feel it in your chest?’
I nodded again.
‘Does it hurt to breathe?’
‘Yes,’ I gasped.
He threw down the towel and pulled the fresh pyjama top over my head. ‘Now, my sweet, into bed quickly,’ he said, lifting me up and putting me lying on the pillows.
I sat up coughing and he turned to look at me before opening his bag and taking out his stethoscope. He listened to my chest, putting it inside the top with the four buttons opened at the front. Then he pulled up my pyjamas at the back, examining my lungs.
‘Breathe gently, darling, it will ease the pain,’ he said, listening.
I started to cough, then he tapped my lungs.
‘I hear some crackling, darling,’ he murmured, shaking his head and looking very worried. ‘Perhaps we should get you to hospital?’
‘No, no,’ I barked, coughing and shaking my head.
‘Yes, OK, it was a suggestion, darling, that is all. But I do think hospital may be the best place right now. They will be better equipped to take care of you, darling. They have all that is necessary to bring you back to health, my love! That is why I am suggesting it. No?’
I shook my head.
‘OK,’ he sighed. ‘Now let me take your blood pressure, darling. I won’t take long. I know this is distressing for you,’ he said, looking very worried as he pulled the strap off my arm. Then he lifted my wrist to check my pulse. ‘OK,’ he said, standing up and wrapping the bedclothes over me, covering me up and settling them around me. ‘You get some rest. I will tell Madame to come and sit with you while I take a prescription down to the pharmacy. I will not be long, darling. You try to sleep.’ Then he went over and drew the curtains together, blocking out the light, leaving the room in a golden glow of dimmed darkness.
I snuggled my head, letting it sink into the pillow without moving myself, then lay on the side that was hurting me, and it eased the pain. I feel so weak and exhausted, but I’m a bit more peaceful now. The crisp clean sheets and the warm gown against my dry skin made me feel a little easier in myself. Within seconds, I felt myself sinking off into a deep sleep.
I woke up to hear Ralph’s voice as he sat down beside me on the bed, shifting the mattress with his weight. ‘Darling, open your mouth and take this pill.’ Then he held a glass of water to my mouth. ‘Now, I want you to drink this,’ he whispered, holding the back of my head as he put a glass of brown, sweet syrupy stuff to my lips. ‘Drink it all, Martha, It will ease your coughing.’ Then he stood up after lowering my head to the pillows, taking up the glass and little measuring medicine cup, and switched off the light. ‘Do go back to sleep, my love,’ he whispered, closing the door quietly behind him.
‘Martha, darling! Are you awake?’
I opened my eyes to see Ralph looking down at me. He was sitting on the side of my bed, gently stroking my face.
‘Sweetheart! Here, let me put this in your mouth. I want to check your temperature,’ he said, sticking a thermometer in my mouth. Then he lifted my wrist, checking my pulse as he stared at a silver watch that was hanging out of his pocket on a chain.
He just kept staring, saying nothing. My eyes wandered to the bedside lamp, seeing it glow a dark orange around me. The rest of the room was left in dark shadows. It must be night, I thought, feeling so very tired and weak.
‘You have been coughing up a little blood,’ he said, checking the Styrofoam cup sitting at the bedside table. He left that there so I could cough up anything coming from my lungs.
I didn’t bother to ask about the blood. I was too tired, and just closed my eyes. I felt him pulling up my sleeve and opened my eyes, seeing he was checking my blood pressure. Then he lifted his stethoscope from the night table and wrapped it around his neck, saying, ‘I am sorry, darling, but I must get you sitting up,’ he said, throwing off the bedclothes.
He lifted me up, sliding me down a bit to make room for himself. Then he sat behind me and pulled up my pyjama top, listening to my breathing. He took in a slow, deep breath, saying nothing, then took the stethoscope out of his ears and eased me back on the pillows, covering me up.
‘Darling,’ he whispered, sitting on the side of the bed, stroking my hair and face. I opened my eyes, barely able to keep them open, struggling to look at him. He stared at me for a second, getting ready to say something. I held my breath, waiting. It eased the pain in my back and lungs.
‘I would like you to have an X-ray. I can wrap you up warmly and take you there myself. We can have it done immediately. I will telephone the hospital and tell them I am taking you in. It will not take long, then I can take care of you myself. But I do need to see that X-ray, darling. We need to know what we are dealing with. You have pleurisy, my love, but it would be good to know the underlying cause. But of course that would mean taking tests,’ he sighed, thinking about it.
I shook my head, feeling myself panic. I don’t give a fuck about any pleurisy. I’ve had pneumonia a few times, I thought. To hell with it. I just want to be left alone. If he takes me there and they end up wanting to keep me in, then it will just make things complicated. Everything will change. He will see me as a complication in his life. A nuisance guest now turned out to be a patient in the hospital.
No, fuck them and their tests! And their messing! I just want to stay here, or I wish I was at home in my own bed with no one to bother me, and me not being a bother to anyone. I hate it when people wander into my life, taking over. Deciding what’s best for me, when I’m nothing but a job for them and it makes them feel self-important having that power over me. That’s what will happen if the hospital get their hands on me. I knows he cares, but if I make problems, then it will isolate us. He will withdraw from me. Just like he did that first time. It doesn’t make a difference what the problem was then, the bottom line for me was that he could walk away from me because I was just a passing interlude in his life. Someone he could leave behind. It will happen all over again. No! Not this fucking time. I will not put myself into his hands, or any hospital he wants to drag in. Curse it, I will stay here, get better. Or bleedin drag myself home under my own steam. I’m in charge! So he can like it or bleedin lump it.
Then I felt myself raging because I couldn’t be normal. I can’t fucking get up and be on me feet. My good-for-nothing lungs are fucked from all my smoking. I did it to myself. Ohhhh! I just want to be on my feet. He’s going to see me differently now. He won’t want me any more because I come with nothing but trouble! I felt myself so tired, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I started to heave with the sobs and the crying, feeling the rage at my helplessness. Why did it all have to end so suddenly? I was so happy. Now I’m just a fool he can’t wait to get rid of. The tears and snots started rolling down me face and I didn’t care any more, I just want to be left alone. I don’t want to be with someone I love more than life itself and have them act like a stranger. Someone cold and distant.
I gasped, not able to get a breath with the sobs trying to escape out of me. I lifted my head, trying to get my hand under me, and the bleedin pain knifed through me!
‘Darling! Take it easy. Don’t get distressed,’ he commanded in a whisper, suddenly moving and grabbing me to a sitting position, with his palm holding my chest, supporting me while he stroked my back, murmuring, ‘Breathe out slowly, darling. Come on, breathe, ease it out, let go, you are doing fine. Don’t be frightened now. I am here with you, my darling.’
I caught a breath, trying to grab hold and let it out on a searing pain, then my lungs jerked in and out, getting ready to let me breathe. I held myself, concentrating on letting go. All the time hearing his voice whispering softly and feeling him holding me against him while he stroked my back very gently.
I started to breathe, feeling the sharp pain with every breath, but at least I wasn’t suffocating. I slumped back into his chest and he pulled himself further into the bed then rested himself against the headboard and held me lying against him, stroking me.
‘There, darling, hush, we will say no more. I will look after you, my sweet one. You just feel secure in my love for you,’ he murmured gently, whispering so softly while he held me against him, all the time stroking me.
I let out a big sigh, feeling all the air and the tension sink out of me. I let my head sink into the warmth and safety of his chest, while the rest of me sank into his stomach, giving me a wonderful sense of peace and being loved and protected. Then I felt my eyes growing tired, knowing it was safe to sleep. Nothing bad would happen to me.
I sat with the tray on my lap, letting the legs sit each side of me, and sipped on the chicken soup then nibbled on a bit of home-made bread. I smiled at Madame Bouclé, who was standing and watching me with her hand over her mouth and her elbow resting in her other hand.
I put the spoon down, feeling I had eaten enough. My mouth felt like straw and I couldn’t taste the food. I had no appetite. ‘Merci!’ I whispered, waiting for her to take the tray and let me slide down and lie on my left side, where the pain eased.
‘Bon!’ she said, looking at what I had left. ‘La poitrine!’ she said, pointing at her chest, looking concerned.
‘Oui!’ I muttered, then closed my eyes, slipping down in the bed and inching myself onto my side, feeling the pain ease. Then I was dozing off into a deep sleep.
8
I was sitting up, sprawled against a huge mound of pillows, feeling like Cleopatra as I chewed away on a box of chocolates, wondering which one to guzzle next. I let my fingers walk around in the air, hovering as I decided where to land next. I picked up a toffee one, seeing that’s what the picture says, then changed my mind with the mouth still open and decided at the last minute to give it to Ralph.
‘Open your mouth,’ I said, lifting my head and looking up at him. I was lying with the box on his stomach, while he lay on top of the bed with his back resting against the headboard and his arm wrapped around me. He was reading Madame Bovary aloud to me while I contented myself making short work of the delicious handmade chocolates.
He stopped reading and looked at the chocolate making its way towards him, then opened his mouth. I shoved it in, gasping, ‘Oh, these chocolates are delicious. It must be love, Ralph, or there is no way I would even share one, never mind let you have four!’
‘Three!’ he said. ‘You let me have three.’
‘Are you sure?’ I said, looking down at the box, trying to think.
‘Naughty sausage,’ he grinned, planting a kiss on my nose, then saying, ‘It must be love or I golly well would not have given them to you!’
‘Oh,’ I sighed, ‘love is a marvellous thing. We could gauge it by the extent on how much we share,’ I gasped, shoving another chocolate into my mouth on top of the one not even getting a chance to finish.
‘Steady on!’ he laughed, pulling away the book to look down at the near-empty box. ‘You will be sick!’ he said. ‘I did not intend for you to polish off the lot in one sitting!’ he said slowly, lifting his head to stare at me with a half-grin on his face, the other half looking a bit annoyed.
‘Why not, Ralph? I have starved long enough!’
‘Yes, but I think I made a mistake with those,’ he said. ‘It is wonderful to see your appetite returned, but, goodness, you are not quite out of the woods yet!’
‘Whadaye mean? You were the one said I needed fattening up!’ I snorted, raging he thought I was being a glutton.
‘Uh-oh! Are we going to have a sulk?’ he said, throwing down the book and turning around to wrap himself round me.
‘No! Of course not! But I was enjoying those,’ I whined, feeling sorry they were nearly gone now. Then I lit into him. ‘I think it’s bloody mean to give them to me then take the goodness out of it by complaining when I eat the bleedin things!’ I snorted, turning away to look at the wallpaper and have a sulk.
‘Oh, darling, I am sorry,’ he laughed, lifting himself back to find the chocolates. ‘Here, come on, eat away,’ he said. ‘They will do you good,’ he laughed. ‘Or at least they will do me good,’ he said, shoving one in his mouth then trying to put one in my mouth.
I turned away, feeling hard done by. ‘No, eat the bloody things yourself. Pity I ate the lot, otherwise I could have belted them back at you,’ I sniffed, still feeling raging, because I knew I made a show of meself, dipping in and out of the box until the lot were nearly gone. ‘And what do you mean, they will do you good? Oh, so it’s OK for you to do what you like, my lord and master. But your aul chocolates are too good for me! Is that it?’
He stared at me, then threw back his head, roaring laughing. ‘Oh, you are so funny, Martha!’ he roared. ‘I meant the bloody chocolates would keep you quiet if you were to eat them. Not have you go off on a tirade at me. So, yes, it would be good for me,’ he said quietly, making a grab and squeezing the life out of me, then burying his head in me, making quick, noisy little kisses on my face and neck, whispering, ‘If you don’t behave, darling, then I shall eat you bloody up. I fancy something tasty, soaked in chocolate!’ he said, lifting his face to look at me, with his eyes dancing alive in his head.
‘Oh, I do love you,’ I mewled, sounding like a cat as I snuggled myself into him. Then we went quiet, with him running his hands around my lower back and landing them on my leg, then up again with a big sigh.
Then he closed his eyes saying, ‘I do feel lazy, let us take a nap, darling.’
‘Yeah,’ I muttered. ‘It will be the first time we have slept together.’
‘Hmm! Not quite, darling. You are under the bedclothes. I am out in the cold.’
‘What cold? The room is blasting with heat.’
‘Shush!’ he said, resting his face on the side of my head. ‘Try and get some rest, darling. I don’t want you over-exerting yourself.’
‘Merci beaucoup, Madame,’ I said, seeing her take off out of the room with the shining dishes. ‘Ah, that was just gorgeous,’ I muttered, smacking my lips as I slid down in the bed, thinking, Gawd! She is a marvellous woman, just marvellous! I sighed, still relishing the taste of that delicious lunch. A fabulous bowl of creamy asparagus soup with hot rolls and butter. Then a lovely fluffy mushroom omelette and fresh fruit cut up in a bowl with vanilla ice
cream. I think she definitely made that, too. Lovely, I thought, as I slid happily down in the bed for an afternoon snooze.
Wonder where Ralph is? I only saw him before breakfast, then he disappeared! Hmm! It’s lonely without him, I thought, feeling me heart want to sink. Ah, he’ll turn up later. Funny, but the house seems quiet. Like I can’t sense his presence, big and all as the place is. He must be gone out, I thought, just as I started to doze off.
I woke up, seeing the day was nearly gone. The trees that were being blown about by the wind outside were throwing shadows against the far wall. I sat up and switched on the bedside light, and the room warmed up in a lovely orange glow. I sighed with contentment, feeling lovely and rested, then peeled my eyes to the wardrobe. Ralph had gotten Madame to wash all my clothes. All my good blouses, skirts, frocks and trousers were sent out to the cleaners. Then they were all put away, left hanging in covers in the wardrobe. I had watched her put away all my night things and underwear, beautifully pressed and looking like new. They were all sitting now in the lovely mahogany shelves inside the big rosewood press. Then my eyes lit on gold and blue shopping bags with rope handles sitting next to the alcove beside the wardrobe. I stared for a minute, wondering where they came from. How did they get there? I wonder if they’re for me?
I threw back the bedclothes and swung my legs out, feeling how weak they were. But, Gawd, am I not a million times better than I was a couple of weeks ago? I made my way over and lifted one of the bags. I looked in, seeing lovely night things with what looks like a dressing gown.
I picked up the bags and walked back to the bed, dying to see. ‘Ohh! This is lovely,’ I gasped, lifting out the dark-green dressing gown with two pockets and a belt. It was so soft and made of pure wool. I put it down and went through the bags. A cream pair of silk pyjamas, a pair of fur-lined, slip-on leather slippers. A gorgeous pale-blue silk blouse, and a long, heavy royal-blue skirt. Then I lifted out a beautiful pale-yellow cashmere polo-neck jumper, with a heavy pure-wool wine jacket for outdoors. ‘Oh, these are gorgeous,’ I muttered, with me eyes on stalks as I fitted them up to myself one by one.