Tangled Threads (43 page)

She awoke to find herself lying in a huge bed. The room and the bed were warm, for beside her in the bed were four heated bricks wrapped in scraps of blanket, and a cracking fire burned in the
grate, the flames leaping and casting dancing shadows on the walls and ceiling. Yet Eveleen was shivering with chills that felt as if someone was pouring cold water down her back.

A shadow rose out of a deep armchair near the window and came towards the bed.

‘Eveleen?’ a deep voice said and a cool hand rested on her forehead.

‘Andrew?’ she said and heard the name spoken in a croak. Was that really her voice?

‘No,’ the voice came again. ‘It’s Richard.’

‘I’m so sorry . . .’ she began, but it was difficult to speak. She felt as if she were breathing through cotton wool. ‘I didn’t – thank you
properly.’

‘Don’t try to talk. You must rest. But first, if you can sit up a little, you must drink this. The doctor said—’

‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘A doctor. I can’t—’

‘Now listen,’ his tone was still gentle, but firm now. ‘You’re not to worry about a thing. Your mother and the child are fine. They haven’t taken any harm for their
adventure. But you must take care and get yourself well again.’

‘Where am I?’

‘At the Elgins’ farm. You remember, the kind farmer who gave us breakfast that day and who later found your mother?’

‘Mm.’ Talking made her breathless and there was a pain in her chest when she tried to breathe deeply. ‘But I can’t lie – here,’ she said in staccato gasps.
‘I must—’

‘You
can
lie here, Eveleen. And there is nothing you have to do except rest and get well again. Everything is taken care of.’

Her mind was playing funny tricks on her. Why was Richard Stokes, her employer, sitting on the bed beside her and holding her hand? Now he was slipping his arm beneath her shoulders and easing
her up and holding a cup of warm liquid to her mouth.

She began to cough and the pain in her chest was worse. She shivered again, yet her head felt as if it was burning.

‘Don’t lift my feet up,’ she murmured. ‘It feels funny.’

‘I’m not touching your feet,’ the voice said, but it sounded faint now. Eveleen closed her eyes. ‘I must get up,’ she murmured, but her limbs felt like lead.
‘I must go to work.’

Her mind was playing funny tricks with her. She seemed to hear her father’s voice calling her from a distance. ‘Eveleen. Eveleen.’

There was a bright light and she tried to run towards it. ‘I’m coming, Dad. Wait for me. I’m coming . . .’

But the light disappeared as suddenly as it had come and she was tossing and turning in the bed again. She felt something cool bathing her forehead and a voice that said soothingly, ‘Try
to sleep, my love. I’m here and I’m not going to go away. Don’t worry about a thing.’

The voice lulled her. She felt secure and cared for. It was a wonderful feeling, she thought, as she drifted away, to have someone looking after
her
for a change.

Her sleep was fitful and disturbed by dreams. She felt as if someone was lifting her up in strong arms and then there was a woman’s voice and capable hands were taking
off her nightdress and pulling on a warm, dry one.

‘She’s wringing wet, poor lass,’ the woman’s voice said. ‘We ought to get the doctor to take another look at her.’

‘No, no,’ Eveleen tried to say. ‘I can’t afford a doctor.’

Then there were other voices in the rooms. A man’s voice and he was pressing something round and cold against her chest and bending over her as if listening intently. She tried to speak
but her throat was dry and her lips cracked and sore. And her head ached dreadfully. The man had moved away from the bed and was talking softly to someone else in the room.

Eveleen tried to speak, but all she could hear was this strange mumbling, a jumble of words that made no sense. Her mind was drifting, not thinking clearly.

In the end she gave up trying. She closed her eyes and slept.

The next time she woke up, she felt better. She didn’t feel as if her whole body was burning and yet shivery at the same time. At least she was not having nightmares any
more. Strange, muddled dreams where she was running and running but her legs would not seem to move because she was dragging a heavy weight behind her. But now her head did not hurt so much and her
thoughts were clearer.

She pulled herself up in the bed and saw that although sunlight streamed in through the window, a fire still burned brightly in the grate. At her movement, Richard rose from the chair by the
window and came to stand beside the bed.

She tried to smile at him. ‘Whatever are you doing here?’

There were dark lines of tiredness beneath his eyes and a day’s growth of stubble shadowed his face.

‘Looking after you.’ He smiled and some of his anxiety lifted. ‘Mind you,’ his smile broadened. ‘I don’t seem to be making a very good job of it. You look
awful.’

‘Thanks,’ Eveleen said and heard for herself that her voice was stronger. ‘I feel it.’

The bed creaked as he sat down beside her. To her surprise he reached over and laid his hand on her forehead.

‘Thank God,’ he murmured more to himself than to her. ‘The fever’s broken.’

‘I’m still hot.’

‘Yes, but you’re sweating it out now. Not burning up. That’s a good sign.’

‘Is it?’ she managed to say with a tremulous smile. ‘I’ll believe you.’

‘I wish you would,’ he murmured, and she had the feeling that he was not just referring to the state of her health.

‘Are they all right? My mother and Bridie.’

He sat quietly, watching her for a few moments before he said softly, ‘They’re fine.’

‘How long have I been here?’

‘Five days.’

‘Five days!’

If her weakened body had let her she would have leapt up there and then in horror. As it was, she tried to pull herself up but found she was as weak as a new-born kitten.

She groaned as she fell back against the soft pillows. Before she had thought to whom she was speaking, for her mind was still a little slow to work properly, she said, ‘Oh, I’ll
lose me job.’

She heard his soft chuckle. ‘I don’t think so. But if you do, I’ll have something to say to the boss.’

She realized then and could laugh at herself. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not thinking straight.’

She felt him pat her hand and then he got up. ‘Now that you’re on the mend, I must get back home.’

She looked up at him, standing so tall over her. ‘You mean – you’ve been here all the time?’

He nodded but then, before she could say more, he said briskly, ‘But now I must go. I’ll come and see you again and if’ – he wagged his finger at her now with mock
severity – ‘I hear any bad reports that you are not behaving yourself, I’ll bring a big stick.’

Before she could say any more he had left the room and she heard his footsteps running lightly down the stairs.

And I still haven’t thanked him, she thought.

Eveleen slept for a while and awoke to find Sarah Elgin bending over her.

‘You’re feeling better.’ It was as much a statement as a question.

Eveleen nodded but immediately wanted to know, ‘Mam and Bridie?’

‘They’re fine and thriving. Your mother’s churning butter in the dairy and singing at the top of her voice.’

‘Churning?’ Eveleen began and then, amazed, added, ‘And singing?’

‘Yes, singing. And little Bridie’s outside in the sunshine. I got my Joe to fetch the old perambulator down from the loft in the barn. We’ve cleaned it up and even painted it.
And she loves it. Just lies there gurgling and crowing all day long.’

‘I seem to have missed an awful lot,’ Eveleen murmured and glanced towards the window, longing to be outside in the sunshine herself.

‘You’ll soon be back downstairs with us now you’re on the mend. You’ll feel weak for a day or two, but once you start eating properly, my good food and this lovely
weather will help you. I can’t believe the change in the weather after all that awful rain we had.’ She crossed to the window and pushed up the sash. Warm air flowed into the room and
Eveleen breathed in deeply, revelling in its fresh country air smell.

Then she was overcome by a fit of coughing, but Sarah only laughed. ‘Cough it up, lass,’ she teased, thankful to see the girl was so much better. ‘It might be a gold
watch.’

Sarah had thought for a day or two that they were going to lose her. Privately the farmer’s wife believed that it was only the young man’s own determination and constant care that
had pulled the girl through. Richard refused to let her go and his will power had somehow reached her even through the depths of her fever.

‘Now, let me help you out of that bed and into a chair. I’ll give you a blanket bath and then change the sheets. You’ll feel much better.’

‘A what?’

‘A blanket bath. You’ve been having them every day for the last five days. Didn’t you know?’

Eveleen shook her head. ‘I don’t seem to know much at all about the last five days.’

She soon found out what a blanket bath was and when the woman had washed her with warm water as she lay on the bed, Eveleen did indeed feel refreshed.

‘Now, let’s have you out of bed and I’ll change the sheets,’ Sarah said.

As she sat up, swung her legs to the floor and tried to stand, Eveleen was appalled at how weak and wobbly she was. She groaned aloud. ‘Oh, it’s going to take me weeks to get back to
work.’

‘Don’t you be worritting about that, love.’

‘But we can’t impose on your goodness any longer,’ Eveleen began.

‘I’m loving having you all here. And your mother’s making herself useful. She’s a big help. And as for the baby, well, you can leave her here with me for good if you
want.’ Then seeing Eveleen’s expression, she added hastily, ‘Only teasing, love. Of course you couldn’t bear to part with her. She’s a little darling.’

‘But you must have had so much work looking after me.’

Sarah shrugged her plump shoulders. ‘Not really. That young feller did most of it.’

Startled, Eveleen stared at her. ‘He didn’t give me the blanket baths, did he?’

Sarah chuckled at the idea. ‘Oh no. I wouldn’t let him do that.’

While Sarah stripped the rumpled sheets and spread crisp, clean ones on the bed, Eveleen asked, ‘Where’s Andrew?’

‘He had to go back home, but he said he’d be back at the weekend.’ She wrinkled her forehead and added, ‘That’s tomorrow. He’ll be so pleased to see you
looking better.’ Sarah chattered on. ‘And Josh is coming on Sunday.’

‘Josh? Really?’

‘Oh yes,’ Sarah looked up and winked at Eveleen. ‘He’s been here a time or two. Mind you, I think he’s coming to see your mother as much as anyone. I reckon
he’s sweet on her.’

Time took a sudden tilt and for a moment Eveleen’s senses reeled. She was back in the kitchen at home – at the farm – and once again she could hear Jimmy’s voice saying,
‘I reckon Master Stephen is sweet on our Eveleen.’

‘Jimmy.’

‘What, love? What did you say?’

Not until Sarah asked the question did Eveleen realize that she had spoken his name aloud. ‘Nothing,’ she said, as her gaze went out across the flat fields. ‘I was only
thinking aloud.’

As Sarah bustled about the bedroom, Eveleen sat lost in her own thoughts. For the first time for many months, she had a chance to sit and think.

Where was her brother and why had they never heard from him? He might have sent word, even if only to their mother. He knew how much Mary had always doted on him. Surely he could have spared a
thought for her? Eveleen prepared herself for the shaft of impatience that usually accompanied thoughts of her rascal of a brother. But nothing came, and thinking about him she even found an amused
smile twitching involuntarily at her mouth as she remembered their childhood. The scrapes he got into and how he had expected his older sister to cover for him, never to tell tales of him to their
mother. It was Eveleen who always had to take the blame. He always had such a winning smile for Mary. He could wind his mother round his little finger and she would believe any story he told
her.

Oh, Jimmy, Eveleen sighed inwardly, but now the words were not spoken aloud. Why did you have to do it? Why did you have to stir up trouble for me and then bring such tragedy on poor
Rebecca?

And still I’m left carrying all the blame.

Andrew arrived the following day and was invited to stay the night, and on the Sunday Josh arrived, driving Mr Richard’s pony and trap.

Eveleen was still not strong enough to leave her bedroom, but each day she sat out of bed for longer periods of time.

Josh lowered himself into a chair near her as she sat beside a window, flung open to let in the warm day.

‘How can I ever thank you, Josh?’ she began but he waved her gratitude aside.

‘I’m just so glad to see you getting well again and that we found your mother and the babby safe.’ He was thoughtful for a moment before he remarked, ‘She’s a
different woman out here, isn’t she?’

Eveleen nodded and her gaze went to the scene outside the window. She heard all the usual farmyard noises she had known for most of her life. The clatter of buckets. The lowing of cattle. The
grumbling and scratching of hens about the yard. The occasional squeal of a pig. The sound of horses’ hooves and the rattle of cartwheels.

It was home, especially for her mother. It was the only place Mary had ever known real happiness.

Eveleen gave a deep sigh. ‘I’ve got to get her back here. Somehow I’ve got to find a place for us to live back home.’

Her gaze was intent upon the idyllic country scene below her, so that she did not see the gleam in Josh Carpenter’s eyes.

The following Sunday, Josh was late arriving at the farm.

‘I wonder why he hasn’t come,’ Mary said, her glance going to the farmyard gate for the fiftieth time that morning.

‘Mary, how many more layers are you going to take off that potato. You’ve peeled the same one three times now,’ Sarah said, laughing.

‘Oh!’ Startled, Mary dropped the potato into the bowl, the earthy water splashing her white apron.

‘Come on, Mam, you go and sit outside with Bridie and watch the lane.’ Gently Eveleen took the knife from her mother’s fingers. ‘I’ll do these.’