The World Within (22 page)

What does it mean? That all along, deep down, she’s known that she’s about to die? That she has no need to dream of her sisters, because she will soon be with them?

That’s what Papa professes to believe and preaches to his flock in the words that Emily knows so well —
God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

It’s a wonderful, comforting idea … that one day, perhaps not so very far off, she will again meet Mama and Maria and dear, dear Elizabeth and rejoice to see them.

If only she could believe it.

When Mama died, she remembers asking, over and over again, “Where is she?”

And they said, “In heaven.”

But when she wanted to know where heaven was, no one could give her a satisfactory answer. And she could never understand why, if Mama was safe in her “eternal home,” as Papa said, he was grey and silent for so long after she’d gone.

“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost …” Papa intones, signaling that the service is about to end.

Emily struggles to raise herself from the pew. She is utterly wrung out.

Fixing her eyes on Elizabeth’s name on the plaque, she prays, “Please, let me not die. Let me not die, not yet.”

By the time they reach home, the pain in Emily’s arm is so severe she can’t think about anything else. In the hall she catches Aunt’s arm. “May I be excused from dinner? I’m feeling a little unwell.” It’s an effort to get the words out, almost impossible to sound as if she’s just feeling under the weather.

She waits, unsteady on her feet, willing Aunt to just say “Yes” and let her go upstairs. But, of course, with Aunt, it can’t be so simple.

Aunt has to scrutinize her thoroughly before pronouncing, “You are very pale.” She lays a cool hand on Emily’s forehead. “And you’re rather hot. Do you feel feverish at all?”

Emily is saved from answering by Papa’s arrival. Aunt says, “Patrick, I’m rather worried about Emily. She’s been looking peaked for a few days now and I think she might have a fever. Do you think we should send for Dr. Andrew?”

Emily rouses herself and in desperation cries out, “No!”

Her father looks alarmed. “Emily, my dear, what ails you?”

“It’s nothing, Papa, really. There’s no need to send for the doctor.” If only they’d all stop looking at her. This is the very kind of fuss she was hoping to avoid. And now Papa is worried. Why don’t they just let her go?

“Very well. Go and have a rest on your bed and then we’ll see how you are.”

Emily flees upstairs.

In the bedroom she pulls back her sleeve. Gritting her teeth, she rips off the bloodstained muslin sticking to the wound. It doesn’t look good — blisters have formed on the surface and it’s oozing yellow pus.

Suddenly, as she’s staring at the injury, Emily’s stomach heaves and she just manages to make it to the basin before she vomits. Shaken, sweating, she sinks onto the bed. She reaches for the towel to wipe her face and at that very moment Charlotte bursts in.

“Emily! You look terrible.”

“What do you want?” Emily snaps. She must get rid of her as quickly as possible.

“Papa sent me up to see if you needed anything.”

“I don’t.” Surreptitiously Emily tries to cover her arm with the towel, but Charlotte is peering at her.

“What’s the matter with your arm?”

“Nothing.”

Charlotte reaches forward and tweaks the towel off. Her mouth drops open. “My God, Emily! What have you done?”

“I haven’t done anything.” Emily yanks down her sleeve to hide the evidence, but Charlotte is already on her way out of the room, calling, “Papa! Aunt! Come quickly.”

Throughout the commotion and interrogations that follow, Emily manages to keep hold of the one important thing — they mustn’t find out about the dog.

To every question she gives the same answers. No, she “doesn’t know how it happened,” her arm “just went like this.” To her utter dismay Papa declares that in the morning they must send for Dr. Andrew.

She gives Charlotte a baleful look. This is all her fault.

At long last they stop talking about it, Aunt binds Emily’s arm with a fresh dressing, and she is put to bed in Charlotte’s bed.

Emily doesn’t object — it’s the only place where she can be free from all their anxious, puzzled eyes. And by now she’s actually feeling very ill — sweating and shivering by turns. Her joints seem to be on fire and every now and then she’s overtaken by nausea and has to vomit into the bucket that Tabby has put by the bed. All she can do is lie there, expecting the hallucinations to start any minute and dreading that Dr. Andrew will be able to tell what’s wrong with her.

After dinner Tabby comes to sit with her. Her presence is comforting and luckily she doesn’t ask any questions, but in any case Emily feels too wretched to talk — she doesn’t want to eat anything and even sipping water brings on the nausea again. She dozes on and off, aware at some point of Tabby creeping out and, later, of Charlotte coming to get her nightgown and hairbrush.

Vaguely Emily wonders where her sister is going to sleep, but she doesn’t want to risk any conversation so she keeps her eyes closed and very soon she’s asleep herself.

The following morning, after Dr. Andrew has examined her, he takes Papa and Aunt out onto the landing. In a hushed voice he pronounces his diagnosis: ery … something. Emily doesn’t hear the word properly. At least he’s not saying hydrophobia, so her secret is still safe.

“How serious is it?” Papa wants to know.

“It can be very serious. We should know one way or another within the week.”

Which means, Emily supposes drowsily, that you can die from this disease too, whatever it is. Everyone will still be fearful … Dimly she’s aware that she should be bothered about this, but really, she feels too strange, too ill to care.

“Now then, young lady …” Dr. Andrew’s abrupt return to the room with Aunt startles Emily awake. Adopting the falsely jovial tone he always uses with them, the doctor commences his treatment. And Emily sees, with a lurch of her stomach, that it’s her turn for the leeches.

Anne has endured this more than once. If her little sister can bear it, surely she can.

She’s surprised when the doctor asks her to clench her right fist — it’s her left arm that’s injured. Having raised the vein, Dr. Andrew pierces it with his lancet — Emily flinches, but makes herself watch — and when the blood wells out, he places a glistening leech on the cut. He then turns his attention to her injured arm, putting three of the black creatures in the most sensitive part of the wound, where they fasten on greedily. Emily braces herself, but after an initial stinging sensation, she can’t feel them at all.

She lies still, staring at the ceiling, not thinking of anything at all, just letting herself float. Odd how she’s never noticed those fine cracks before, as if a spider were clinging to the plaster right above her head.

After a while she becomes quite light-headed. Black spots appear before her eyes and her tongue feels too big in her mouth. She tries to say, “I think I’m going to faint,” but the words won’t come out. She’s just starting to panic when Dr. Andrew pronounces himself satisfied and pulls off the bloated leeches.

Dimly Emily hears him telling Aunt to ply her with cooling drinks. “Lemonade is best, and you can mix in half a teaspoon of Dover’s powder — that should increase the sweating, which will help her to throw off the infection. Keep the wound uncovered, but bathe it with laudanum three times a day. And when our patient feels like eating again, a light diet of sago and the like is best.” His voice fades away as he leaves the room with Aunt and Emily is left in peace at last.

She drifts in and out of sleep, a troubled sleep in which figures loom at her threateningly from the shadows and voices whisper words that she strains to hear. Often she comes to with a start, bathed in sweat, with her teeth chattering and her heart thumping with terror. At times she’s aware of a dim figure being in the room, of someone persuading her to sip cool drinks or wiping her face with a damp flannel, but when she tries to open her eyes, her eyelids feel like heavy weights and she gives up and sinks back into sleep again.

Emily opens her eyes. Blinking, she sees that she’s in her bedroom. How strange — Tabby is here, sitting over by the window. And stranger still — Tabby’s hands are resting in her lap. Tabby never just sits — her hands are always busy with some work or other.

But then Emily realizes that the room is quite dim and she sees that the shutters are closed. How odd. Because it’s definitely daytime — she can see cracks of light at the edges of the wooden panels.

She tries to speak, but all that comes out is a croak. She clears her throat and tries again, murmuring, “Why don’t you open the shutters, Tabby? Then we’d both be able to see.”

Tabby is across the room in an instant. “Bless thee, my lamb. Tha’s properly awake at last.” Emily feels Tabby’s rough hand on her forehead and a beaming smile spreads across Tabby’s face. “Cool as a moorland spring. Tha’ll be all reet now, for sure.”

All right? Then Emily remembers. The doctor was here — she has been ill. Her eye falls on her left arm and she sees a wound — healing now, but still an ugly red weal …

With a start of alarm she remembers everything. She tries to sit up, but she can’t — she has to sink back onto her pillow.

“Bless thee,” says Tabby. “Tha’s as weak as a fledgling fallen from the nest. Don’t tha be trying to sit up yet awhile, not till tha’s got thi strength back.”

“How long have I been in bed?”

“A week.”

“A week?” Emily can’t believe it. But what was it Dr. Andrew said? If she’s got whatever it was he said and she’s all right after a week, then it means she’s going to recover.

“And tha’s to stay there a mite longer, my lass, at least until doctor’s been to see you. If tha fancies a bite to eat, I’ll go and get thee summat light to try — tha needs to build thiself up.”

Tabby bustles from the room.

Emily almost wishes that she could go on being asleep for a while longer. Because now she can’t stop thinking. She feels better, but does it mean anything? Was Dr. Andrew right about her illness? Is she safe now?