‘I’ve always loved these trees,’ mused Evelyn. ‘They are not at their best at this time of year, but in the summer and autumn, they are one of Carrack Estate’s jewels. There are many jewels here, Rose, but it needs to be brought back to life. Many of the gardens have been dug up to grow food. My father loved his gardens. I’m sure the neglect and destruction of his pride and joy wouldn’t have done his health any good.’
The car came to a halt in front of a sprawling Georgian house.
‘This is Nicholas’s new home,’ announced Evelyn. She opened the car door, before the driver had a chance to do it for her, and got out. Rose hesitantly followed, unable to drag her eyes away from the imposing building before her. She had imagined Nicholas’s house to be a former workman’s cottage, which had been sold off years ago and tucked away in some leafy part of the estate which never caught the sun. She had not expected Nicholas to be the owner of this grand house and estate.
‘Nicholas lives here?’
‘He does now.’ She turned to the driver. ‘Thank you, Wilber. I’m not sure when we will need you again. It depends on how long Miss Gribble wishes to stay. I will let you know.’ Evelyn took Rose’s arm. ‘Don’t feel daunted, my dear. Nicholas will be pleased to see you.’
The two women mounted the steps together. The front door silently opened as they approached and Rose followed Evelyn into a large hall. Statues, sited in arched alcoves in the walls, observed her from every side. The door closed behind them. A woman, who had been hidden behind the open door, faced them. Rose forgot her surroundings as she tried to read the woman’s expression. She wore the uniform of a housekeeper and Rose knew she would have news of Nicholas.
‘Hello, Bennet.’ Nicholas’s mother lifted a hand briefly in Rose’s direction. ‘This is Miss Gribble. Has there been any improvement since this morning?’
‘I’m afraid not, ma’am. We tried to give Sir Nicholas some water to drink an hour ago, but he didn’t stir and wouldn’t take it.’
Evelyn removed her hat and gave it to the housekeeper. Rose hastily followed her lead.
‘And his temperature?’ asked Evelyn, as she slipped off her coat and laid it in the housekeeper’s outstretched arms. She indicated for Rose to do the same. ‘Sorry Bennet, I’m sure Nicholas will employ more staff once he is well and living here permanently. I hope you don’t mind for now.’
‘No, ma’am. I’m just glad the family has returned. His temperature is still rising. As the doctor left he told us to take off his blankets and tepid sponge him, but he shivers so, ma’am, and we were afraid to remove any more until we had spoken to you.’
‘We’ll do as he says. I trust Doctor Menear, unlike some I can mention.’ She took Rose’s arm again. ‘This way, my dear.’
‘She called him Sir Nicholas,’ Rose whispered to Evelyn as she guided her towards the stairs.
‘Nicolas did not tell you he inherited a baronetcy?’
Rose’s steps faltered on the stairs. ‘I’m not sure I should be here.’
‘Of course you should. I’m hoping you will be the tonic he needs.’
Rose broke away from Evelyn’s arm. ‘I’m not grand enough to be here.’
Evelyn tilted her head and smiled. ‘My father wouldn’t accept the greatest love of my life because he was not from my class. Such barriers should not exist if two people love each other. I didn’t bring Nicholas up to care about such things . . .’ she threaded her arm through hers and gave it a squeeze, ‘. . . and nor should you. His title means little to him and it should mean little to you too. He needs you, Rose. Don’t let a silly title get in the way. Come, let’s see how he is.’ Evelyn led the way to Nicholas’s bedroom door. A wooden table stood outside with a selection of short, rectangle cloths with ties at each corner. She selected two and offered one to Rose. ‘The doctor left these anti-germ masks. The nurses use them and he thought we should too.’ A slight tremble shook her bottom lip as she offered Rosethe mask. ‘I need your help, Rose. I believe that if he sees you he might fight a little harder. This flu has killed hundreds of thousands of people. I won’t let it take my son too.’
Rose took the mask and looked at it. ‘I’m not sure how I can help.’
‘I want you to sit with him and hold his hand, before it is too late to do so.’
Rose nodded. ‘Of course. It’s what I want too.’
The two women put on their masks, each watching the other over the material placed across their nose and mouth. Evelyn nodded when they were ready and opened Nicholas’s bedroom door. A wave of warm air greeted them. Evelyn and Rose looked at each other again and an unspoken message passed between them. Nicholas’s room was stifling hot and Doctor Menear’s instructions needed to be carried out immediately. Evelyn waved the servant sitting by Nicholas’s side away and removed two blankets from her son’s bed, while Rose fetched a water pitcher from the side stand and went to the open fire. She poured the water onto the flames and stepped back as the coal turned into a fierce sizzle of spitting water. Rose watched the funnel of steam disappear up the chimney, before turning to face Nicholas. His mother had left his side to partly open a window. A wave of icy December air entered and chased the stifling heat out of the room. When she was satisfied the temperature was sufficiently lowered, she closed it again and turned to her son.
Nicholas lay on his back, the outline of his body clearly visible beneath a single, white cotton sheet. His eyes were closed and his head turned to the side. Rose could clearly see his face, which was, despite his illness, as handsome as the first day she had met him. He appeared to be sleeping soundly and this would have pleased her if it wasn’t for the fact that he had not stirred at all in spite of the noise they had both made.
The two women exchanged worried glances. Rose stepped closer. For the first time she noticed his cracked lips and the rapid rise and fall of his laboured breaths. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead and a fevered flush marked each cheek. A voice of self-doubt had constantly nagged her since Evelyn’s arrival at her shop. It had berated her that she had no right to visit him and had grown more shrill when she arrived at his home, but seeing Nicholas like this, as weak as a kitten and as helpless as a child, silenced it. She rushed to his side, pulled up a chair and threaded her fingers through his. His hand felt hot and twitched slightly in hers, but his lids remained closed. Rose raised his hand and pressed his fingers against her masked lips. He was not aware she was there, but it didn’t matter. She was glad she had come.
Chapter Fourteen
Monday, 22nd December, 1919
Rose stayed the weekend. Evelyn visited Nicholas frequently to ensure that Rose had all she needed, but she resisted staying despite the fact that she clearly wanted to. It was as if his mother knew that it was Rose’s role to be by his side and so she sacrificed her place to her. Rose was grateful and her respect for Evelyn multiplied tenfold because of it.
Rose had no nursing background, but she had experienced the flu. It had been mild compared to many, but it gave her valuable insight into how to help relieve the symptoms. Nicholas’s cracked lips told her he was dehydrated so she offered water at frequent intervals, sponging his lips and trickling droplets into his mouth. Although he appeared unaware that he was being encouraged to drink for his own good, she persevered and would not leave his side.
She asked the housekeeper for a bowl of tepid water, and used it to dampen his brow and limbs. His rising temperature settled with each sponging, so she did it regularly and his bouts of feverish shivers gradually subsided. His eyelids finally flickered open as the first evening drew to a close. He gazed at her, but Rose saw no hint of recognition in his eyes so she untied her mask and let it fall. His eyes softened and darkened as he stared back at her, before his lids grew heavy and fatigue forced him to close them again. Rose knew he had seen her and she allowed herself a shaky smile. It was the first weak step of many he had to take before he was well, but at least it was a start and it gave her hope.
The hours of the weekend merged, as a normal routine, marked by meals and sleep, did not exist within his room. She encouraged him to vary his position in bed, lying on each side onevery alternate hour. It caused him to cough, but she considered that a good thing as it expanded his lungs and prevented an infection settling on his chest. Sometimes she would find him watching her, between long periods of deep sleep, but at least he was waking now and would soon have the wits about him to drink, rather than sip, the water she offered him. Another step. Another improvement to cling to.
