by Adele Geras
Lizzie adored her little brother and looked forward to her turn to look after him. Mama had recovered well from the birth, and was now able to take her son out for walks and care for him, with help from the rest of the family.
Uncle Percy saw very little of the baby, because by the time he returned from the draper’s shop, Johnny was generally asleep. Clara loved to wheel him down the road in his perambulator, and sometimes, she would wake up for Johnny’s night feed, roused by his cries. Then she enjoyed going into Cecily’s bedroom to help her change the child’s napkin and settle him down after he had drunk his fill.
“I wish I could look after him instead of going visiting all the time,” Clara used to tell Lizzie. “You are lucky to be with him every day.”
“Yes,” said Lizzie, though privately she thought that Johnny perhaps demanded a little too much of everyone’s energy. The baby was delightful, but no one seemed to have any time for anything except working to ensure his welfare.
The days and weeks passed quickly. Lizzie and Lucy and Hugh went to their lessons every weekday. Lizzie had persuaded Hugh to tell her about some of his schoolwork, especially in mathematics, the sciences and geography, and she was learning many fascinating things: how plants germinated; how leaves became green; and how the clouds could show you what the weather was going to be like. At present, it was a little warmer than it had been, but there were days when it was hard to believe that the spring would ever arrive. It was still too chilly to hang washing outside, and there seemed to be clotheshorses near every fire in the house on which various tiny garments had been draped to dry.
The walnut remained hidden in the earth in its flowerpot. As far as Lizzie could see, there had been no progress at all. She mentioned this to Hugh one evening, when the two of them were working on some mathematical problems at the schoolroom table.
“You’re not going to see anything, Lizzie. Not till it actually sprouts. There will be nothing but dark soil to look at till it puts out a shoot. All the growing and so forth is going on underground. If the earth were transparent, you would be able to see changes, I’m sure.”
“Yes, I know I would.” Lizzie sighed. “I’m sure it will sprout one day, but I’m just saying it’s hard to believe in it, that’s all.”
“Forget about it, Lizzie. Help me with this problem.”
Lizzie turned her attention to the problem in which three men were digging a ditch and taking their time over it, as far as she could see. All Hugh’s problems in mathematics involved three men, and they were always engaged in the most boring activities you could imagine. She wished very much that there was something in the house that she might do that would make her feel useful and still the restlessness she felt.
Chapter Fourteen
In which Clara comes into her own
By the middle of February, Lizzie had become quite used to having a little brother, but was growing more and more irritated both with her mother and with Lucy. Despite her earlier complaints about his inactivity, her youngest cousin had grown more and more fond of Johnny with every passing week, and Cecily indulged her, allowing her to carry the baby and cuddle him just as though she were his sister, and not merely his cousin. As soon as he opened his eyes – and sometimes even before that – Lucy was at his side, cooing and clucking and behaving in what Lizzie considered to be a really stupid manner.
Hugh turned out to be the only person Lizzie could confide in about this. She didn’t want to bother her mother; Clara was often out visiting with Aunt Victoria and Grandmama and, when she returned home, she, too, was absorbed in the baby. Lizzie didn’t mind her attentions as much as she did Lucy’s because Clara was a more sensible person and Lizzie could see that her mama relied on her help a great deal.
“It’s probably my fault,” Lizzie said to Hugh one day when they were in the garden together, looking at the crocuses that had just begun to poke their mauve and yellow heads out of the soil. “If I did more, then Lucy wouldn’t have the opportunity to interfere so much. But though I adore Johnny, I do find sitting beside a cradle and pushing it backwards and forwards a bit tiresome after a while. Is that a very dreadful thing? Please don’t tell anyone what I’m telling you, Hugh. I’m a little ashamed not to be a better sister.”
“You’re a perfectly good sister,” said Hugh. “And I wouldn’t let Lucy bother you. When Johnny’s old enough to choose, he’ll be happier with you. You can teach him all sorts of things, like running and climbing and everything I’ve taught you, too, which will be much more exciting for him than Lucy’s nonsense. She hasn’t got a thought in her head that isn’t about dolls or clothes or tea parties. He’s not going to be interested in those.”
They were near the cold frame and Hugh added, “Let’s take a look at your walnut.”
Lizzie shook her head as they peered through the glass. “Nothing at all. Sometimes I think nothing is ever going to happen, but then I remember Mr. Hocking saying that we had to be patient. That is what I am being, though I do long for a sign.”
She didn’t add that sometimes she wondered whether Hugh had been right all along and whether her flowerpot might have been better indoors, but she wasn’t going to admit this to him.
When they had left the cold frame, Lizzie pointed to a spot in one of the flowerbeds.
“That’s where I shall plant it,” she told Hugh. “When it has sprouted and grown a little. Then, when we’re long dead, there will be a fine tree here.”
“Let us hope it sprouts, then,” said Hugh. “At this rate, we’ll be long dead before even a single green shoot appears!”
When Lizzie and Hugh returned to the house, they found everyone at sixes and sevens. Uncle William was cradling little Johnny and rocking him backwards and forwards in his arms. Aunt Victoria was comforting Lizzie’s mama, who was weeping in an armchair, with her handkerchief pressed to her mouth. Grandmama was bustling about, telling Cook and Elsie what was needed for supper that evening, and when Hugh and Lizzie came in, she turned to them with something like relief on her face.
“There you are, children. Now, there’s not a moment to be lost.”
Lizzie rushed to her mother’s side. “What’s the matter, Mama?” she cried. “What has happened?”
“Oh, Lizzie, it’s poor little Johnny! He is not himself. No, not at all. He’s not eating, and his face is flushed and hot and I think he might have a fever. Your grandmother is going to send for the doctor…oh, how I wish Johnny might be well again!”
“Let me go,” said Hugh. “To fetch the doctor, I mean. I’ll be there and back before you can blink.”
“Yes, thank you, my dear,” said Grandmama. “Run as fast as you can, and tell him to come at once.”
Hugh had gone before anyone could say another word. Lizzie looked at him leaving the room and said, “I want to go. Please let me go. I can run just as fast as Hugh.”
“I doubt that, my dear, but we won’t argue about it now,” said Grandmama. “You may go to the shop instead and tell Percy and Clara, who went there only a short time ago, to come home at once.”
Lizzie flung herself out of the front door and raced down the street in a fury. Grandmama has no idea how fast I can run, she thought. I shall show them. I shall show them all. She picked up her skirts and ran as fast as she could to the shop. As she went, she realized that Hugh had a far shorter journey to complete than she did. The doctor’s house was in the next street and the shop was a good ten minutes’ walk away. She didn’t care. While she was running, it was hard to think of other things. All Lizzie’s energies were concentrated on covering the ground as fast as she possibly could.
When she reached the shop, she almost fell into the door. Clara came round from behind the counter, and Uncle Percy found a stool for Lizzie to sit on, while her breathing returned to normal.
“It’s Johnny,” she gasped at last. “He’s very sick, and Grandmama has sent me to fetch you both home.”
For a little while, after the doctor had examined the baby and giv
en him some medicine, matters became more peaceful. Little Johnny lay quietly in his cradle and Cecily, who was in the bed next to him, closed her eyes and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. The rest of the household hurried through the evening meal and then found they couldn’t settle to anything. Even Lucy was subdued and went to bed much earlier than she usually did. By the time Lizzie came into the bedroom, she was fast asleep.
Lizzie lay in bed and closed her eyes. Please, she whispered – not quite sure whether she was praying to God or just wishing with all her heart – please let Johnny be well. I won’t mind if Lucy cuddles him all day long. I won’t care whether he loves me best or not. I’ll take more care with my embroidery. I’ll work harder at school. I’ll be kind to everyone. Please let him be well.
Lizzie didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must have done, because suddenly she realized that there was someone in the bedroom, speaking to Clara. She struggled to sit up and saw, in the light from the landing, that it was her mother, leaning over Clara’s bed.
“Mama!” she whispered. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing, dear. I’m just speaking to Clara.”
“But why?”
“It’s Johnny. He’s hot again. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t want to rouse the whole household, but Clara said…”
“I told your mama that she must wake me if the baby took a turn for the worse. The doctor is coming again in the morning, but he has instructed me in exactly what needs to be done, and I’m going to do it. I know just what Johnny needs.” Clara had risen from her bed and was dressing hurriedly.
“How do you know?” Lizzie asked, but she was too late. Her mother and her cousin had rushed from the room. Lizzie wondered what time it was, and just then she heard the grandfather clock in the hall chiming three.
The very middle of the night! She’d not often been awake at this hour and there was a special kind of silence all around as though the whole world were muffled and blanketed. She would have welcomed any sound at all, even Uncle William shouting out in his dreams, or her little brother loudly demanding his night feed. What was happening in her mother’s bedroom? What was Clara doing? What did she mean by knowing what had to be done? Lizzie knew that she was wide awake now and she knew she would not fall asleep again. Her curiosity was overwhelming. She got out of bed, and put on her dressing gown and slippers.
The door to Mama’s bedroom was open. Lizzie peeped around it and saw that Clara had taken Johnny out of his cradle and laid him on the bed. She had removed all his blankets and he was dressed in nothing more than a napkin and a cotton shift. Mama was sitting next to the baby on the bed, and holding him as Clara repeatedly took something…a cloth? It was hard to see from where Lizzie was standing…and dipped it into the basin full of water that stood on the floor next to her feet. Then she wrung it out and stroked it across the baby’s forehead and arms and legs, over and over again, not stopping even for a moment.
Lizzie came up to her mother and said, “Oh, Mama! How worried you look! Is Johnny…” She paused. She couldn’t say what she was thinking because it was so dreadful that even uttering the words would have made her cry. She wanted to know if her little brother was going to die, but couldn’t ask. What if the answer was “yes”?
I won’t be able to bear it if he dies, Lizzie thought. He’s so small, he’s scarcely even lived. It’s not fair to let him die before he’s had a chance to do anything…to walk or talk or play or go to school. And what will become of Mama if he’s taken from her? Will I be enough for her now that she’s had a son? That thought made Lizzie sadder than anything. “Can I do anything to help?” she said.
“No, thank you, Lizzie,” said Clara, and Lizzie gazed at her cousin in astonishment. “All is well here. I am doing what needs to be done. Can you see? I am trying to make him cooler. He’s too hot now. His fever is burning him up, poor little mite, but if we’re patient and keep him cool with damp cloths, as I’m doing, then he’ll soon be sleeping more peacefully. I’ve listened to Uncle William’s stories of the Lady with the Lamp and how she used to do the same for the poor soldiers suffering from cholera and other terrible diseases. I am going to be a nurse, don’t forget. This is what I shall be doing for much of the time, I expect. Fevers in childhood are very common.”
Lizzie went to sit on the chair that her mother used to nurse the baby. No one needed her here, but she couldn’t leave. She was too concerned for Johnny’s welfare to go now, and she was soothed by Clara’s quiet kindness and the way she betrayed not the slightest doubt that what she was doing was for the best. Why, she had even made Mama calm! That, surely, was a great gift to have if you wanted to become a nurse: the ability to give confidence to those who love the suffering person. At once, Lizzie relaxed. She would rest for a moment and then look at her brother again, to see if all was well. She closed her eyes and leaned against the back of the chair.
Chapter Fifteen
In which Lizzie has two surprises
When Lizzie woke up, early morning light was coming through the bedroom curtains. Someone had covered her up with a blanket, but she felt chilly and stiff in all her limbs. She rose rather shakily to her feet and looked around her mother’s bedroom. There was Mama, fast asleep on her pillows as though nothing untoward had happened during the night. And there was the cradle with Johnny in it. Even from this distance Lizzie could hear the whiffling sound he made while he slept. She tiptoed over to look at her little brother and saw him lying on his stomach, with his face turned to the right and one of his arms flung up above his head. He looked…Lizzie hardly dared to hope, but she reached out to touch him and found his skin cool under her fingers. Tears began to flow unchecked down her cheeks. He wasn’t going to die, after all. He would live and run about and speak and she would tell him the story of how Clara had saved his life. Lizzie knew that her cousin would deny that it was her doing. She would say, modestly, that Johnny would probably have recovered on his own, with no help from her, but perhaps he would not have done. Lizzie determined to tell everyone in the family exactly what she had seen Clara do, and she intended also to ask Mama to mention it to the doctor when he came for his visit. Now, surely, no one could prevent Clara from enrolling in Miss Nightingale’s school, not when she had shown herself to be such an excellent nurse. Lizzie felt so happy that she wanted to shout and rouse the household, but she knew it was much too early for that.
Where could she go? What could she do till breakfast? Her joy was like something bubbling up within her. She felt so wide awake that she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to sleep again. She knew that Elsie and Cook always rose very early to prepare the breakfast, so she decided to go down to the kitchen and see if they might give her a cup of warm milk. Mrs. Tibbs was doubtless still in her basket, and it would be pleasant to play with her with no interference from Lucy.
“Why, Miss Lizzie,” said Cook as she came into the warmth of the kitchen. “Whatever’s up, dear? Can’t you sleep?”
“I woke up very early,” Lizzie answered. “So I thought I’d come and visit Mrs. Tibbs.”
“She’s gone out. It’s a lovely day, and she likes to trot about when the dew’s still on the grass. Likes to wet her little paws…that’s what I think. There she is, behind the laurel bush.”
“I’ll go out and fetch her,” said Lizzie and she made for the back door before Cook could realize how ill-dressed she was. Fortunately, there was so much to do in the kitchen, getting breakfast ready for the whole family, that the small matter of one of the children going outdoors in her nightgown and bedroom slippers was the furthest thing from Cook’s mind.
Mrs. Tibbs was picking her way delicately through the damp grass.
“Come here, kitty!” said Lizzie, and she laughed. No, Mrs. Tibbs was quite determined. She settled herself near the cold frame and looked at Lizzie as if to say: I’m not moving. This is a good sunny spot and here I shall stay.
“Well,” said Lizzie. “Since you seem set on remaining here, I shall have
a look at my walnut. Though I don’t suppose anything has changed since I last saw it.”
She lifted up the glass, and peered down at her flowerpot. Then she looked more carefully and, still not quite believing the evidence of her own eyes, she picked up the flowerpot and examined it closely. And there it was: a tiny, green shoot, poking out of the dark earth all around it, and looking strong and vigorous to Lizzie, even though it was so small.
“You’ve sprouted!” she whispered to the little plant. “You’re only a baby now, just like Johnny, but you’ll both grow up strong and healthy. I know you will. Oh, what a wonderful morning this is!”
She put the flowerpot back in its place and closed the frame carefully. This was undoubtedly the best morning of her whole life. She knew that there was probably no connection (Hugh would say: no scientific connection) between the life bursting out of her walnut and the fact that her brother had been given another chance to thrive and flourish, but still she couldn’t help linking them. She knew that as long as she lived, she would remember that the nut had put out its first greenness on the very day that Johnny recovered. Even when there was a sapling safely growing in the spot that she had chosen, she knew that she would be reminded of this day and of how happy she was. She felt as though every dream she had ever had might come true one day. She would have a lovely garden and work in it all by herself and bring thousands and thousands of plants into the world. And Johnny would help her. She would teach him exactly what he had to do.
Lizzie ran across the grass to the back door, not caring how wet her feet and the bottom of her nightdress had become, to wake the others and tell them her good news.
Author’s Note