As Meat Loves Salt (60 page)

'This one!' I shouted. I braced myself under the left-hand bough and pushed. It rose slowly, with a sucking sound; my legs trembled

and I had a flash of terror, but then the burden lightened as Harry took hold and lifted.

'Over that way!'

We swung it around and away from Ferris. I lowered the branch gently, going completely under the foul water in the process, and surfaced to see him slipping down, about to drop under likewise. I splashed back and caught him, holding him upright. I could feel the rope, heavy and wet, dragging round my feet.

'I'll pass him up to you,' I called. I heaved Ferris into my arms like a child and waded towards Harry, who had now inched his way further down. 'Here.' Unable to see, with Ferris's back pressed against my nose, I held him up and felt Harry take the weight. There was a tug at my ankle; I freed the rope, and saw my friend carried safely out of the shaft. I had still sufficient strength to drag myself out of the icy water and crawl up again, the debris slipping away beneath me.

Ferris was lying on the grass, Harry wiping the unconscious face with a wet sleeve. I knelt beside my friend's outstretched body, clutching his wrist, and suffered a violent qualm, weeping like a woman. I had just enough self-command not to grapple him to me and kiss him.

When I was able to look up I saw Hathersage, rubbing his sore hands and watching me, then Elizabeth standing next to her spouse. Little Thomas Beste danced about as if in celebration. Botts was arrived, lugging a case of instruments. He bent to listen for the heart.

'Brother Christopher may think himself fortunate,' he said.

'Not least in his friends,’ said Harry. He laid his hand on my heaving back. Botts smirked, thinking the words were meant for him, until Harry went on, 'If he values you aright, I'd say this wipes out the Rowly business and two more like it.'

The Tunstalls were hastening towards us across the field. Ferris opened his eyes; they were dazed, innocent as when I saw him that night with Nathan, but they slitted when he found Botts crouched over him. He turned his face away from the surgeon's.

'Jacob?'

His lips scarce moved; his voice was so faint that I was not sure what I had heard. Botts ignored his attempts to speak and pressed hartshorn under his nostrils: Ferris flinched back from it.

'He doesn't need that.' I shoved the vial aside and bent over my friend, whose lips were working: I put my ear to them and caught the whisper, 'Let him not hurt me.'

I shook my head. Botts had just finished rooting out two scalpels and was holding their edges up against the sun to see which had fewer nicks in it.

'Letting blood will help lift the swoon,' he proposed excitedly. I laid my hand on Ferris's arm and turned my face up to the surgeon.

'He doesn't wish to be bled.'

'Nonsense,' Botts returned. 'I must at least examine him, else we lose precious time.'

Ferris turned a dog's eyes on me.

'On,’I said. 'He suffers too much pain.'

'It is the nature of a patient to suffer.' Botts was laying out implements; I saw screws on some of them. 'Is not the word itself derived from the Latin
patiens?
That is to say,
suffering,'
he translated for the benefit of the rest of us. 'But the professional man's way is not the way of sentimental ignorance,' here he cast scornful eyes on me, 'for he cures the sufferer
despite
the pain. Will you help me by restraining him?' He took hold of Ferris's left arm and lifted it; my friend gasped. I saw sweat darken the dust on his brow.

'Lay that arm down- softly- softly!' I ground out between my teeth. 'Touch him again, and you'll be in need of a surgeon yourself.'

Botts raised his eyebrows. He pushed his bloodshot features into mine. 'Some might call this usage ill advised. I would go further, sir: I would call it barbarous.' He stood up and looked round for succour, but the others dropped their eyes, all except Hathersage, who had never stopped watching me.

I stood up also, very close to Botts, as a gentle persuasion. 'Well then,' I shrugged, 'barbarous I am. But I keep my promises. Harry, do I keep my promises?'

'I fear he does,' Harry said dryly. 'Best leave things for now.' He took the surgeon by the arm. 'Mister Botts, have I leave to talk with you a while?'

Botts glared up at me, flushed and sullen. I returned the glare. Either he would look away first, or I would black his pig's eyes for him.

'I beg of you, Mister Botts,' the smith whispered. Botts dropped his gaze and I exulted silently, fiercely, as Harry led him away.

I knelt again by Ferris. 'Can you walk?' I asked.

He struggled to sit up, but failed.

'I can support his back,' suggested Hathersage.

I went on, 'Will you let me lift you? With Hathersage's help?'

He moaned, 'Don't pull me by the arms!'

"Then roll over and kneel,' I told him. At last, though with cries from him that wrung my innards, I arranged him over my shoulder.

'Give him cold compresses,' urged the women. I asked them to make us some and they set off in search of cloth to soak in the spring.

'I will see what I can do with the sough,' said Jonathan, who had remained silent until now. He walked off to the edge of it, and stood contemplating the ruin.

I took the way to Ferris's hut, where I intended to stay a while, for I was not going to leave him where Botts might return to the torture. Halfway there I stopped and adjusted his weight on my shoulder.

'Where are you taking me?' he asked faintly.

'To bed.'

He giggled.

'Sshh. Rest.’ I nuzzled my face into his side. As I did so I glimpsed something dark: Hathersage walking a yard behind us. My heart jerked, but it was possible he had understood nothing. I turned and asked him would he be so kind as to fetch my blankets from their airing place on top of the tent. He set off willingly and without any knowing look. I then carried Ferris into his own hut and laid him next the bed. There was a bucket of water there, and a dirty linen clout. I sponged the muck as best I could off his face, arms and breast. His head rolled to one side.

'Cold water and rags, here.' Susannah stood at the door. 'Shall I put them on him?'

'Let us wait until he can show us the pain.'

Susannah nodded. 'You know where I am to be found.' I had thought she would stay and insist on nursing him, but she left without further talk, ducking out through the door just as Hathersage arrived with my blankets.

'My sincere thanks,' I said, bending to unfasten my friend's soaking breeches. Sinking now into sleep, he made no attempt to help me. Hathersage averted his eyes.

'It was nothing,’ he murmured. 'Shall I fetch you some water also?'

'To drink?' I looked about and saw a stone jug. "There's beer here.'

'For your face.' I stared at him, puzzled. He awkwardly went on, 'Your tears have washed two great channels in the field-dirt.'

"Thank you, Susannah has brought some.'

He bowed and went out.

Pondering the meaning of that extraordinary last speech, I stripped my patient. The heavy wet breeches took some time, for though he was light, I feared injuring him further by too brisk a movement. His flesh beneath the cloth was cool and damp, his feet muddy. I washed that off as best I could and the flat scent of pond water filled the hut.

Laid out thus, Ferris showed himself even thinner than formerly, his belly drawn in high under his ribs like that of a starving dog. Only his shoulders had swelled slightly: the compact, stringy muscle of a lean man. His face was now brown, though it would never darken as deeply as my own; his hands and forearms stood out sharply against the fair skin elsewhere. I did not find him improved. The Devil had granted my wish to watch him sleep, but granted it in his usual cruel fashion, making a pain of a pleasure. Yet pleasure there was. I still desired to watch over him, be his dragon against Botts.

Catherine tapped at the door of the hut. 'Jacob? I've brought more compresses.'

I pulled the blankets over Ferris's nakedness. "Thank you most sincerely, but he sleeps. Leave them with me.'

'Let me see him.’ That was forward, for Catherine. She pushed in and gazed on his sleeping face. By the look of her, she ached to pull back the covers, or slip her hand under them and run it down him. I was struck by the similarity between us.

'Catherine,' I said. She turned to me, eyes big and fearful lest I forbid her entrance to her holy of holies. 'Would you be so good as to fetch us our food when it is served? I shall stay near him for a day.'

'Of course. Jacob—'

'Yes?'

'Forgive my churlishness over the milk.'

'You did right to check me when I drank Hathersage's share.'

Her face softened. I asked myself why I had spoken thus when we both knew the milk was not for Hathersage. Why had I spared this girl? Even Ferris, always gentler than myself, had been spiteful to Becs. But that was when he feared her. I was not afraid of Catherine. The woman who could draw him away from me must be very different from this creamy innocent; perhaps only a man
could
draw him now.

Ferris woke with a confused cry. I stroked his brow and bade him rest; he lay dozing while Catherine put a compress on his head and neck, where he said he had a hurt. She was so gentle, one watching might be hard put to it to guess which of them felt the touch more acutely. I recalled Becs pushing me about and scolding me after the fight with Rowly; different females act after their different ways, but surely it is fire to gunpowder, letting women nurse men. This one, having served her god, departed full of happiness. He lay blinking at me from under flaps of wet linen.

'Now,' said I, 'how do you find yourself? More comfortable?'

'My head aches still. Will you put something on my shoulder blades?'

'Another compress?' I took up some linen she had left ready in the bucket. 'Can you raise yourself?'

Ferris heaved himself up, gritting his teeth; I ran my hand over his back, feeling it all ribs.

'Softly there!' he cried.

'I barely touched you.' I remembered the anguished squeal which had so terrified me floating up from the shaft.

'The muscle's pulled both sides.'

I arranged a compress under him and held a cup of beer to his lips. He drank greedily. Then I moved him back into a lying posture, not without much gasping and whistling through the teeth on his part.

'What happened down the sough?' I asked.

'I dropped too fast — I should have bidden you let the rope out slowly—'

'I should have done it without telling.'

'No matter - I went too fast and found myself wedged between those two large branches we put in there. The water was already up to my waist and I couldn't feel the bottom with my feet. I was frightened of falling further.'

'Why didn't you pull up?'

'Couldn't get any purchase. In the end my own weight dragged me through. It was tight — I felt my shoulders give.' He made an agonized face. 'I think I screamed then, did I scream? What with that and the water coming up over me.'

'Could you see and hear me?' I asked.

"There was some light but once you're under the branches and bushes— methinks now I should have heard you, but I was in a terror, stirring the water up like a fool.'

'I heard you splashing about as if you were drowning.'

"Then you said you would pull me out the same way—!'He laughed ruefully.

I shuddered.

'And
then
the sough fell on my head.' He was still laughing at the horror of it, almost with tenderness. 'I saw your feet - kicking about in the sky.'

'Hathersage's.'

'His! I'd have given something to see the rest of him!'

'How can you laugh about it, Ferris? Don't you know you almost drowned?'

'Who better? The water was up to my armpits, nothing under my feet. A very good sough.'

'The last sough you dig,’ I said. 'Open ditches, or none.'

He put his hand on mine and we rested a few minutes in silence. I saw his eyelids begin to droop.

'You'll keep him off?’ he murmured. 'Botts.'

'You
would
have him with us,' I reminded him.

'Don't scold me now, Jacob. Be kind.'

'I'll sleep here. If he sets foot inside the door, I'll kill him.'

'There's my fierce lad.' He closed his eyes.

I stayed by his bed the rest of that day, offering drink, holding a pot for him to piss in, placing cold compresses on his shoulders, where he said the worst pain was. All he lacked was rest: though he had given himself a bad wrench, his shoulder blade was not out.

'You won't need a bonesetter,' I said that evening. I was sitting on the floor of his hut, watching the sunset spread itself over the turf walls and light up the pamphlet which I was reading to him: tedious stuff again, this time about manures. In a corner of the but stood a decoction made by Elizabeth, supposed to loosen muscles and ease pain.

'Look here.' He pulled back the cover and I saw bruises like giant blackberries, one staining his flesh from the pit of his neck right down the breastbone.

'A wonder your chest isn't stove in,' I said, appalled.

'I'm lucky.' He burrowed under the blankets and slept, snoring. I lay down on the makeshift couch that was even more primitive than my usual bed. There was no ointment to dress bruises with. By and by I would get up and make a fresh compress. By and by.

In the silence of night I was woken by someone in the hut. Then I understood it was Ferris, and stretched out: my hips ached as they had done in the army. He shifted on his bed and I heard the intake of breath; he was awake. I rose and felt for his face. It was greasy with sweat.

He sighed. 'Talk to me, Jacob. Take the pain off.'

'Is it so bad?'

'I can't lie comfortable.'

In the dark I found the bucket of water, and pulling back the bedcover, carefully unwound his compresses and soaked them afresh. Lastly I replaced the cold cloth under his shoulder.

'Will you sleep now?'

'Perhaps.'

'Yes. I'll bring you sleep.' I began to stroke him on the neck and chest, then lower down.

'Jacob, no. I can't!'

'Sshh. Just lie still. I'll make you sleep.'

I did, and was very gentle; I took nothing for myself, and the only force I used was at the end, when I put my hand over his mouth.

In the morning he was able to rise, with help, walk a few steps and eat. The other colonists came and stood about, offering to help lift him or bring some victuals which might tempt the appetite. Ferris, making a royal progress round his hut, smiled grimly on them all, yelping from time to time as a muscle spasm forced him to halt. At the end I helped him back into bed, gave him some cheat bread and came out to give the others a report on his health, saying the compresses had been most beneficial.

'All quite bootless,' rumbled Botts, choked with resentment at being baulked of his victim. 'He has had a fall and is already half recovered; had I bled him he would be up and working by now.'

We were just outside the hut, Ferris inside; I pictured him chewing on the bit of cheat and listening to the attacks made on us. Our companions looked from Botts to me, and I thought they did not like me least.

'He's pulled all the muscles round his shoulders,' I said, 'and been battered by the landslip. Here,' and I waved Botts into the hut; the rest followed. Ferris looked up fearfully, but I stepped between himself and Botts before holding open the front of the patient's shirt.