Eve and Her Sisters (26 page)

Howard was now on his favourite subject of the Labour Party’s elaborate scheme for the political organisation and education of women through the Unions and the Co-operative movement. Few if any in their social circle held similar views and it made for some interesting dinner parties. She caught Eve’s eye at one point and the two women smiled at each other. Yes, thought Esther. She had plenty to be thankful for.

 

Very early the next morning Eve was woken by a sharp knock on her bedroom door. She pulled on her dressing gown, thrust her feet into her slippers and padded to the door without bothering to light the gas mantle.

‘Can you come quickly?’ Howard’s face was white in the light of the oil lamp he was holding. ‘She’s worse, much worse. Something’s happened. I’ve sent for Dr Wynford but she wants you. Something’s dreadfully wrong, Eve.’

As soon as Eve entered the dimly lit bedroom, she could see the change in Esther. ‘Eve.’ Esther drew in three short breaths and then as Eve took her hand, looked up at her husband. ‘Please . . .’ She struggled for breath, her face becoming contorted for a moment. ‘Please, Howard, leave us for a few moments. I-I wish to-to talk to Eve alone.’

Howard bit his lip but when Esther murmured once more, ‘Please,’ he nodded.

‘I’ll be waiting outside,’ he said to them both. ‘Call me if you need me.’

When the door shut behind him, Eve bent over the frail woman in the bed. ‘What is it, dear?’ she asked softly, dropping the more formal ‘Ma’am’ she used if anyone else was present.

‘I must-must ask you . . .’

‘Don’t talk anymore, wait until the doctor comes.’

‘No. Eve, I know - I know the time is short. I’ve known for-for weeks now. I’ve felt - different.’

It was painful to witness such pain and be powerless. Tears in her eyes, Eve whispered, ‘What is it you want to ask me, dear?’

‘Howard. He’s - not as he presents himself to the world. Not inside. Vul-vulnerable. Needs - you.’

‘I’m not going to go anywhere, Esther. And in a little while you’ll feel better and things will be back to normal.’

Ignoring this, Esther’s fingers tightened on hers with a grip surprising for such a sick woman.‘Promise me you - you will - stay. Take care of him. To-together. Want to think of you together.’

Eve’s eyes widened.‘I’ll stay on as long as he wants me to, as long as you both want me to. You know that.’ Esther couldn’t be suggesting . . .

‘He - admires you.’Esther’s head sank into the pillow, the white of the cloth emphasising the grey pallor of her skin. ‘And he is kind. Suc-successful marriages are built on such - qualities.’ She gasped, making a sound in her throat as though she wanted to cough but instead, to Eve’s horror, she began to choke.

Eve screamed out for Howard and he rushed into the room. They raised Esther into a sitting position. This seemed to help but as the choking stopped, a thin stream of blood began to ooze from her mouth and her head fell heavily against Howard’s chest.

It was over very quickly. By the time Dr Wynford arrived, Howard was sitting in stunned silence by the side of the bed and Esther was at peace. Eve had wiped her friend’s face and pulled the coverlet up to her neck, concealing the bloodied nightgown, and to all intents and purposes Esther could have been sleeping. In death the lines of pain and exhaustion had smoothed away and she appeared much younger.

After a brief examination, the doctor confirmed what they already knew. Gently, he said to Howard, ‘She died in her own home with you at her side. That was always the way she wished it. Be grateful for that.’

‘Grateful?’ Howard stared at the doctor who was also a friend. ‘The last years she’s suffered dreadfully with this foul thing.What is there to be grateful for?’

‘This last stage could have gone on for days, weeks. She was spared that, Howard.’

Howard rose to his feet. ‘You mean well, John, but I would like some time with my wife alone.’

‘Of course.’As Eve led the way out of the bedroom, John turned at the door. ‘If you need me, call.’

‘I need no one.’

In the hall, the doctor paused. His voice low, he said, ‘He will take this very hard, Eve.You are aware of that? He needed her every bit as much as she needed him.’

She nodded, feeling numb. It had happened so fast, she couldn’t take in that Esther had gone.

‘If you’re worried about him in any way, please call me, night or day. Try and persuade him to take these.’ He reached into his black bag and brought out a small phial of round white pills.‘One at bedtime for a few nights. They are a strong sedative so no more than one with a glass of water.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that, doctor. Thank you.’

‘In cases like this where the couple have been very close and there are no children, it’s doubly hard,’ the doctor said sadly. ‘Goodbye for now and don’t forget what I said. Call at any time. And . . . and keep the pills in your possession, Eve.’

Eve stood alone in the hall for a few moments. She knew Daisy and Elsie, the cook, were in the kitchen waiting to hear what the doctor had said. She ought to go and tell them their mistress had passed away.

They both cried. Elsie had been with the Ingrams as long as the former housekeeper, and Daisy for nearly five years. She was the newcomer, Eve thought as she retraced her footsteps up the stairs and stood outside Howard and Esther’s room on the wide carpeted landing, not knowing what to do. And then she heard it. A groaning that sounded as though it was wrenched up from the depths of him.

She stood for some moments more and when she turned and made her way back to her own room to get dressed, she found the sound had unlocked her own grief and her face was awash with tears.

It was almost six months later. New Allied tactics had got Germany on the run and the character of the war had changed, tanks and planes now being used in large numbers against the enemy. The character of life had changed at 47 Penfield Place in the heart of Newcastle too.

The first month after Esther’s death Howard had been inconsolable, spending most of his time in his study when he was back from the engineering works. He had barely eaten anything in spite of Elsie rustling up all sorts of delicacies to try and tempt him.When he had begun to eat a little again, he had also begun to drink heavily. He had always had a glass of wine or two with his meal when his wife was alive, but now it was more in the nature of a bottle or two and this was often followed by him disappearing into his study where Eve knew he kept a bottle of brandy.

Eve said nothing about this, she did not feel it was her place. With Esther’s going, something had changed in her relationship to her employer.The old easy familiarity had gone. At first she had thought this was a result of his grief and the fact that she saw so little of him now compared to before. The hour of instruction had ceased the day after Esther had died and although she had half expected it to resume again in the following months, it had not. But as time had gone on she had come to feel Howard was deliberately holding her at arm’s length. It was not just her, he treated everyone the same, refusing to accept any social invitations and shutting himself away each evening. When visitors called, and there had been quite a few in the early days although only John Wynford had continued to persevere, Howard’s manner could only be termed wooden. He was a changed man.

But for her promise to Esther, Eve would not have continued in the post of housekeeper. From her first day at the house, so much of her time had been tied up with Esther that now she felt the hours dragged. She had never experienced boredom before and her nature did not lend itself to sitting about doing nothing. Consequently, with Howard’s blessing, she got involved in voluntary war work. For two days a week she gave six hours a day at the local town hall, handling some of the paperwork generated by rationing, and on the other four days assisted at a Newcastle organisation which aided families who had lost their breadwinner. She always made sure she was back at the house in time to eat with Howard and in the evenings busied herself until bedtime with her duties as housekeeper. She had little or no time to herself but she did not mind this. Exhaustion was an opiate; it prevented endless post-mortems in her mind regarding Caleb and Mary and little William, for which she was thankful.

It was in the first week of September that the Spanish flu epidemic which had swept the world began to take its toll in a war-weary Britain, and Elsie and Daisy went down with it within days of each other. Around the globe this virulent strain of influenza had already caused millions of deaths and doctors were predicting more people would die of the flu than would be killed by the war. Eve did not dwell on this, she had more than enough to cope with. With the cook and maid confined to bed, the full weight of the household was on her shoulders. Between seeing to the invalids, she cooked and cleaned and washed and ironed but there were simply not enough hours in the day. And then Howard succumbed to the illness. He came home from work one day looking like death warmed up but although Eve tried to insist that he stay at home the next morning, he left the house as usual. At eleven o’clock there was a knock at the door and two of Howard’s office staff practically carried him into the house.

‘He collapsed on the factory floor,’ Ned Duckworth, Howard’s manager, told Eve once Howard was in bed and the doctor had been called. ‘Out like a light, he was. Mind, I’ve seen it coming for some time. Thin as a rake he’s gone since his missus died. If it hadn’t been this flu that got him, something else would have. Know what I mean?’

Eve did know what he meant and so did Dr Wynford when he came. After examining Howard, he checked Elsie and Daisy before spending some minutes talking to Eve in the drawing room. ‘I can’t do any more for him than I’ve been doing for Elsie and Daisy,’ he said soberly, ‘but whereas they want to get better, with Howard I don’t know.’They stared at each other for a moment. ‘Get plenty of fluids down him and make sure he stays in bed. And be firm with him, Eve, if you have to be.’

‘I will.’ She nodded. She had come to like and trust John Wynford over the last months. In spite of the fact she was just the housekeeper, he had always been very pleasant.

‘Let’s hope you don’t get sick too. This thing can run through a household like wildfire.’ John shook his head. ‘They’re saying London’s central telegraph office is crippled because seven hundred people are down with the flu, a complication the war effort doesn’t need. And it’ll get worse before it gets better, you mark my words. Half my patients are weakened by wartime hardships and couldn’t fight off a cold, let alone this flu. How do you feel, incidentally?’

‘All right. I know I don’t look it but I’m quite tough.’

‘Sore throat or headache?’

‘No.’ She smiled at him.‘I’m absolutely fine, really.’

‘Good.’ He smiled back, his hazel eyes warm. ‘But if you start to feel ill, don’t try to be brave and soldier on. This flu doesn’t let you do that.’

‘I’ll remember.’

Holding his black bag in one hand, he patted her arm with the other. It was a light touch but his voice was soft when he said, ‘It was a good day when you came to this house, Eve. Esther thought the world of you, as do we all.’

She blinked at him. ‘Thank you.’

‘I’ll call and see how he is tomorrow.’

She saw him out but after she had closed the front door behind him, she stood for a moment, staring at the brown painted wood. No, she was being ridiculous. She shook her head at herself. Dr Wynford would never think of her in
that
way. She thought back to one or two occasions recently when the doctor had called socially to see Howard and she had felt - not exactly uneasy in his presence, more flustered. And it had been when he’d looked at her like he’d looked at her a minute ago. She stood a little longer before giving herself a mental shake. She couldn’t stand here daydreaming, she needed to see to the soup for lunch. Elsie and Daisy hadn’t been able to tolerate solid food but they had swallowed the nourishing broth she’d made at regular intervals. Perhaps Howard would take a little too.

 

Seven days later Daisy was back on her feet and Elsie was able to sit wrapped up in the rocking chair in the kitchen, giving orders to the little maid regarding meals, because all of Eve’s time was taken up with Howard who was a very sick man.

John Wynford didn’t try to conceal his concern from Eve.‘He’s got to try.’They had just left Howard’s bedroom and were standing on the landing in the semi-light of late evening.‘He’s relinquishing his hold on life without a fight. It’s as though he is willing the illness to take him.’

Eve nodded. That was exactly what Howard was doing. He had begun the process the night Esther had died. Quietly, she said, ‘I’ll talk to him.’

‘I’ve talked to him.’ John Wynford’s irritation with his inability to get through to his friend was plain to see.‘It’s getting him to listen which is the problem. I’ve known him since I started practising, Esther was one of my first patients and I’d have sworn on the bible that apathy was not part of Howard’s make-up. ’

‘Grief is a strange thing.’ In the days after William’s death, when Caleb’s only thought had been for Mary, she had wanted to die too. Looking back, she had barely been rational.

‘He’s forty-nine years old, Eve. He’s got years and years ahead of him in which to enjoy life, to meet someone else. Esther was a fine woman but it would be a crying shame to see him follow her so soon. And it needn’t be, that’s the thing. If Elsie with her weak chest can come through unscathed, I’m damn sure—’ He stopped. ‘Sorry,’ he apologised. ‘I’m quite sure Howard can recover with a little fighting back.’

‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said again. ‘As soon as you’ve left.’

‘I hope you have more success than me.’

Two minutes later she entered the bedroom and went straight to the bed. Howard was lying propped against several pillows to aid his breathing and his eyes were shut. It was he who spoke first. ‘I suppose he told you he thinks I’m giving in.’