The Letter (19 page)

‘Amen,’ repeated Chrissie. She tried to struggle to her feet but Kathleen grabbed her arm and forced her back down.

‘Mary, Mother of God.’ said Kathleen.

Chrissie cast a furtive glance towards her aunt, unsure what she was supposed to do.

‘Pray for us,’ whispered Kathleen.

‘Oh. I see. Pray for us,’ repeated Chrissie.

‘St Joseph.’ Kathleen nudged her niece hard in the ribs.

‘Pray for us,’ said Chrissie

‘Amen,’ said Kathleen, finally straightening up.

‘Amen,’ repeated Chrissie as she too struggled to her feet.

‘Hmm. I gather you are not a regular worshipper.’ Kathleen’s tone was disapproving.

‘No, not really. Father is a medical man, you see. He believes in the power of medicine over prayer so I’ve never really been to church. We would go to the Midnight service on Christmas Eve and then of course for weddings, funerals and Christenings, but other than that, no, I can’t say I’ve regularly attended church.’

‘Maybe if you had, we wouldn’t be here now having this conversation.’ Kathleen pursed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. ‘You may retire to your bed now. We rise at five-thirty for prayers. You may join me up here at the altar. Then there is just time to fetch the water in before the church bells ring for The Angelis at six. After that it’s morning milking and then breakfast. You may help with the chores, but on no account must you discuss your situation with Jackie or the others. Do you understand?’

Chrissie nodded miserably. ’Yes, Aunt Kathleen.’

‘You may take some of the hot water from the pot for washing and there is a chamber pot at the end of your bed. That is only for night-time use though, you must use the toilet outside during the day. Do you have any questions?’

‘No.’

‘Good, then I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.’

Chrissie crept downstairs and pulled up a chair next to the fire. It was impossible to get warm in this place and her breath hung in the air as she exhaled. Her aunt had settled the fire for the night, so the heat it gave off was minimal. The water in the pot was still warm enough for a wash though, so Chrissie ladled some into a bowl, took up a flannel that her aunt had left on the bed and slowly began to clean off the grime left by two days of travelling. She shivered uncontrollably as she removed her clothes and washed her body. She would have given anything for a long soak in a bubble-filled bath right now. She rummaged around in her little suitcase and found her nightdress. As she pulled it over her head, she caught the overwhelmingly familiar scent of home. Wood Gardens had a very distinctive smell, with its clinical aroma of medicine, the oily beeswax used to polish the cabinets in the surgery and the welcoming scent of her mother’s cooking. Chrissie suddenly felt very weepy as she longed for her own bed, the comfort of her mother’s arms and the unquestioning devotion of Leo. She climbed in between the sheets and pulled the covers up to her chin. Even with the weight of three blankets pinning her down, Chrissie could not coax any warmth into her bones and all the shivering was actually making her back ache.

She wondered what Billy was doing now. Did he feel any remorse at the callous way he had abandoned her? She really had loved him and was sure she could have made him happy had she been given the chance. Her mother should have been stronger too, and not allowed her father to ship her out of the way like this. She was still a part of that family and was determined to return to it one day, her
and
the baby.

*

Dr Samuel Skinner gripped his wife’s hand in desperation, every fibre of his being willing her to live. The last twenty-four hours had changed Dr Skinner’s life irrevocably. He had already said goodbye to his only daughter as she made her way in shame to a new life in Ireland. He had only just got her out in time too, before that Billy had come grovelling for her forgiveness. It seemed he had managed to convince Mabel that he wanted to marry their daughter. Dr Skinner laughed to himself at the absurdity of it. No, the baby would be adopted and out of their lives forever. Dr Skinner suddenly let go of his wife’s hand, stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. He had just recalled his wife’s reaction when he told her the baby would be adopted.
Over my dead body,
she had said defiantly. He bent down close to his wife’s face and smoothed his thumbs over her cheeks.

‘Mabel. Mabel, please wake up. I’m sorry. Mabel.’ He gently shook her shoulders, even though he knew this would make no difference. He laid his head on her chest so he could be comforted by her rhythmic breathing, but her ribcage was perfectly still. He gripped her hand in his and already could feel her blood turning to ice. ‘Mabel, no! Please don’t leave me.’ He let out a primal scream which brought a nurse running in.

‘Dr Skinner, what is it?’ gasped the nurse.

Dr Skinner fell to his knees at the side of bed.

‘She’s gone,’ he sobbed. ‘She’s gone.’

It was two o’clock in the morning before Dr Skinner arrived home at the surgery and he should have been exhausted, but as it was he felt as though he would never sleep again. He poured himself a large whisky and slumped into the armchair in the kitchen. Leo pawed at the back door and whined to be let out. Dr Skinner called over to him.

‘Come here, boy. You’re all I’ve got left now.’

Leo ambled over and allowed Dr Skinner to ruffle his head. ‘It’s just you and me now, Leo. What are we going to do?’

Leo sat at his master’s feet and wagged his tail.

This whole situation was that damn Billy’s fault. If he hadn’t got his daughter pregnant she wouldn’t be in Ireland now, Mabel would not have gone out last night in such an agitated state and maybe she would have seen the car that hit her. If only Chrissie had never set eyes on that…that… Dr Skinner hurled his glass of whisky across the room and as it shattered, leaving the golden liquid running down the wall, Leo dived for cover under the table. Dr Skinner put his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. Of course there was no way he could tell Chrissie about her mother’s death. That would bring her running back from Ireland immediately and into the arms of Billy. No, it was best left at it was. As far as Dr Skinner was concerned, Chrissie was as dead to him as his wife was.

Chapter 18

Chrissie had been at the farm for two months when her aunt was taken ill. She had immediately known something was wrong because she had seen a number of her father’s patients with the same symptoms.

‘Aunt Kathleen, I really think you should be in bed and not out here in the yard. It’s freezing and you will only make matters worse.’

‘How can I go to bed when there is so much work to be done? Stop fussing, girl, and let me get on with my chores. I’ve never had a day’s illness in my life. I’ll take an extra big spoon of my mixture tonight and I’ll be right as rain.’

Kathleen had taken a dose of malt and cod liver oil all her life. She had tried to entice Chrissie to do the same, but she could not stomach the sweet, black treacly liquid.

Kathleen coughed violently, snorted the resulting phlegm which had accumulated in her throat and spat the huge green globule on the ground. Chrissie turned away in disgust but not before she had noticed the tell-tale streaks of blood. Kathleen was trembling as Chrissie put her arms round her shoulders and guided her to the wall so she could lean on it to get her breath back. Everywhere the ground was as hard as flint as another severe frost exerted its relentless grip. The cattle stood despondently in the fields and even the chickens, which normally ran freely round the yard, were huddled together, puffing up their feathers in a futile attempt to keep warm.

‘Aunt Kathleen,’ Chrissie tried again. ‘I think you may be very ill. I think you might have Tuberculosis. I’ve seen all these symptoms before many times.’

Kathleen wiped her eyes with a greying handkerchief. ‘Nonsense. Tuberculosis, who ever heard anything like it? Where would I pick up a disease I have never even heard of?’

‘You have heard of it, Aunt Kathleen, although you probably call it consumption.’

Kathleen looked doubtful for a second as she thought about this. ‘Well, like I said, I’ve never had a day’s illness in my life, Chrissie.’

‘Then all the more reason for you to go to bed now. I can do more work around here, you know how quick I’ve become at the milking and besides, if I’m right about this, Tuberculosis is very, very contagious. You don’t want to infect Jackie and the others, do you? And I’m sure I don’t want to catch it. It wouldn’t be good for the baby.’

Kathleen put her fingers to her lips and looked around furtively at the mention of the baby. ‘Maybe you’re right. I feel dreadful, so I do.’

‘That’s settled then, you lean on me and I’ll get you inside.’

Then, in a rare show of humility, Kathleen said,

‘But what about you and your condition?’

In the two months since Chrissie had arrived at the farm, Kathleen had not been able to mention the word ‘pregnancy’ and spoke about it as if it were an affliction.

‘I’m fine, please don’t worry. I’m only four months gone anyway and you can’t even tell yet, although with all these baggy clothes you make me wear I could be on the verge of giving birth and no-one would be any the wiser.’

Kathleen frowned at her niece’s attempt at a joke. This pregnancy was certainly no laughing matter. ‘You still haven’t told anyone have you? I see you talking to Jackie.’

Chrissie held up her hand. ‘I’ve told no-one, although I’m sure they will work it out for themselves sooner or later.’

Kathleen ignored this comment. ‘Come on then, help me inside.’

Later that afternoon, as Chrissie stirred some chicken broth over the fire, she shuddered as she heard her aunt coughing violently upstairs. She ladled some soup into a bowl, tore off a piece of soda bread she had baked earlier and crept up the stairs. The sight of her aunt startled her and sent her into a panic. She suddenly looked so tiny swamped under the bedclothes. Her face was as white as chalk and her eyes were red and swollen. Chrissie felt her brow, which was stinging hot in spite of the cold damp air. She put the soup and bread down on the little bedside table and ran back downstairs, heaved open the front door and yelled into the yard.

‘Jackie! Jackie!’

Chrissie heard the clanking sound of iron clattering to the stone floor as Jackie dropped his tools and appeared from the barn, two dogs in hot pursuit.

‘What is it, Chrissie?’

‘I need you to ride into town and fetch Doctor Byrne – now.’

Jackie’s face clouded with concern. ‘Is it Miss McBride?’

‘Yes, Jackie. Please hurry.’

Jackie turned on his heel, grabbed Sammy the old carthorse who had been tied up in the yard enjoying his hay, and without bothering with a saddle vaulted onto the startled horse’s back. He kicked his flanks and the horse responded instantly. They cantered out of the yard, Jackie’s arms flailing as he struggled to control the horse with just a head collar.

It was another two hours before Jackie returned with the Doctor and Chrissie explained the symptoms to him as they climbed the stairs together.

‘I think she has Tuberculosis.’

Doctor Byrne turned and frowned at Chrissie.

‘Consumption,’ explained Chrissie.

‘I know what Tuberculosis is, thank you very much. I’ll be the one who does the diagnosing round here.’

‘Sure, sorry. Will you have a cup of tea, Doctor? I’ve had the water on ready.’

Doctor Byrne nodded. ‘Two sugars.’ He turned to Kathleen in the bed.

‘Now then, Kathleen, what have we got here?’

Kathleen stirred and forced her swollen eyes open. ‘Doctor Byrne? What are you doing here? I’ve no money to pay you, so I haven’t. It’s my meddling niece, she shouldn’t have called you.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ replied the Doctor as he opened his medical bag and took out a thermometer. ‘Anyway, you can pay me with a chicken and a tray of eggs.’

‘I’m not well, Doctor,’ gasped Kathleen. ‘I’ve known for a while, to be honest.’

‘I know, that’s why I’m here.’ Doctor Byrne fumbled with his stethoscope.

‘No, you don’t understand.’ Kathleen grabbed at the Doctor’s wrist. ‘Now you’re here I need you to do something for me.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to do, if you’ll just let me.’ He pushed Kathleen’s hand away.

‘Over there.’ Kathleen pointed to a small chest of drawers. ‘In the top one there is a note rolled around some money. I need you to give it to Father Drummond.’

‘What am I? Some kind of postman as well as your doctor?’

Kathleen gave way to another violent coughing fit. ‘Please, Doctor Byrne. It’s important.’

Later that evening, after the Doctor Byrne had left, reluctantly confirming her diagnosis, Chrissie stirred cocoa powder into two mugs of hot milk, one for herself and one for Jackie. Her aunt was sleeping soundly now due to the medication the Doctor had given her. Chrissie pulled on her coat, crept silently out of the house and over to the barn.

‘Jackie?’

She could just make out his paraffin lamp at the back of the barn and she heard the hay rustling as he stirred himself.

‘Chrissie? Hang on, I’ll be with yer in a minute.’

He looked as though he had been dozing and bits of hay clung to his hair.

‘I’ve made you some cocoa, it’s in the house.’

‘Oh, thank you. Do you want me to come and fetch it then?’

‘No, I want you to join me in the house so we can drink it together.’

Jackie looked uncertain. ‘I’m not sure your aunt will approve of that. She always brings my cocoa out to the barn.’

‘Please, Jackie. I could do with the company and besides, she’s fast asleep. Doctor Byrne gave her something.’

‘I guess it will be alright then. I’ll just fetch my jacket.’

Chrissie had stoked the fire up in the kitchen and piled on some extra turf so that the room actually felt quite cosy. Once they were settled with the steaming cocoa in their hands, they both began to relax. Chrissie was very comfortable in Jackie’s company and if it wasn’t for him, she didn’t think she could endure this place. Her aunt had mellowed slightly since her arrival, but was still adamant that no-one should be told about the baby, so Chrissie felt very isolated, and she would have loved to have had someone to talk to, to share the experience with. She had written to her mother several times over the last couple of months and was disappointed not to have received a reply, but Aunt Kathleen had insisted that this was not that unusual. The post was so unreliable it had always taken months to get through and now with a war on in England it was bound to take even longer. Chrissie’s heart ached as she thought about her mother, her home, Leo and of course, Billy. In spite of his behaviour, Chrissie had not been able to get him out of her mind and was secretly delighted that his child was now growing inside her. She just knew that one day they would be reunited and it was this belief that kept her going. She cupped her stomach gently and smiled to herself.