Tamsyn looked at him, surprised. Most of the crowd rushed to the window to look at the storm, small children crying, the teenagers suddenly thinking of reasons to hug each other. The chatter gradually turned to nervous laughter, and by the time they returned their gazes to the vicar, the moment was past and Jed looked utterly in control again. ‘That was just the Lord, giving us a round of applause,’ he told the congregation. ‘Thanks be to God, amen.’
Handing the microphone back to Sue, Tamsyn saw Jed hurry out of the hall, and she followed him, watching him as he stood, pressing a palm against the wood panelling in the corridor outside, seemingly to try to steady himself. Was it talking in front of people that had thrown him? It couldn’t be the thunder, not after he’d been so brave and stoical in the storm when he’d brought them up here. Whatever it was that had happened, she could sense that he was unsettled, shaken.
‘Jed?’ She said his name so quietly that it couldn’t be heard over the din of the party, now back in full swing, or the storm that competed with it outside the rattling windows. Jed did not hear her, or see her standing in the shadows, with Mo cradled in her arms, oblivious to everything, safely cocooned from the noise. Pushing himself off the wall, he pulled down at the hem on his shirt and then, taking a few more steps, knocked on the door of the room where Catriona was staying.
‘Catriona, it’s Jed, are you in?’ Tamsyn watched him wait for a reply, and then knock again, and this time his tone more concerned. ‘Catriona?’
‘Everything OK?’ Tamsyn announced herself, and saw how weary Jed looked when he glanced up at her, as if the last few minutes had exhausted him, his golden skin drained of colour.
‘If I take Mo, would you go in and see if she’s OK?’ Jed asked. ‘I was hoping she’d feel a bit better today, but the tray I left her is still outside the door.’
Tamsyn kissed Mo’s ear as she handed her over, and knocked on the door again before pushing it open.
The room was in darkness, warm and musty, a sure sign that its occupier hadn’t left her bed in several hours. The town was in chaos, and everyone was so busy trying to set things straight and pull together that it looked as if no one – including herself – had thought to check on Catriona Merryweather for quite some time.
Switching on a lamp, Tamsyn was relieved to see that she was sleeping, although fitfully. Her brow was shiny with sweat, her hair darkened, damp and matted. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tamsyn gently touched her arm.
‘Catriona? It’s Tamsyn. Catriona?’
Catriona grumbled and turned her head away, waving her arm limply, as if making a half-hearted attempt to swat a fly.
‘Catriona …’
‘Oh Mother, how many times? I don’t like broccoli,’ Catriona replied.
Tamsyn pressed the back of her hand to Catriona’s forehead, which was blazing hot. She pulled off the heavy quilt and opened the window, for all the good it did. It seemed like the great crash of thunder that had rattled Jed had heralded the crescendo of the storm, which was now fading into the distance, leaving hot, still air behind.
Tamsyn opened the door and gestured for Jed to stay where he was.
‘She’s in a bad way,’ Tamsyn said. ‘She seems to have got it much worse than anyone else; they are all mostly on the mend now. Maybe it’s something else, like her appendix … Do you know if the doctor that looked at Mo is still here?’
‘I think he stayed for the party, yes,’ Jed said.
‘Can you see if Mum or Keira will take Mo for a while, and bring the doctor? On second thoughts, don’t give her to them, they’re too drunk.’ She thought for a moment. ‘Give her to Alex. I trust Alex.’
Jed nodded and Tamsyn stood watching him recede up the dark hallway to find the doctor. There was no time to wonder why exactly a man who had led them to Castle House in a storm had flinched at a little lightning, but Tamsyn sensed he was keeping a secret, not just from her – but from everyone.
Sue had put an old-fashioned ceramic wash bowl and a jug full of water on the dressing table, and a flannel, which Tamsyn soaked in the thankfully cool water and pressed to Catriona’s head. There was an unopened packet of paracetamol on the top of the chest of drawers next to bed.
‘What?’ Catriona turned her head, her eyes taking a moment to focus.
‘Is it still raining?’ Catriona asked Tamsyn. ‘I can hear rain coming down, so hard. It’s not right, it’s not right, you know.’
‘You’ve got a fever, a really bad one,’ Tamsyn told her, not sure if Catriona knew who she was, or if it mattered. ‘You didn’t take any paracetamol?’
‘I don’t believe in it,’ Catriona said, coming back to herself a little. ‘I’ve never believed in masking symptoms. You should always be able to listen to what your body is trying to tell you. Tamsyn? How is the little one?’
‘Fine,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Considering. But how are you?’
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ Catriona dragged herself up a little. ‘I don’t want you here.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Tamsyn said. ‘I’ll shower and change my clothes before I pick up Mo again. And Cordelia’s got this antiviral hand stuff she buys in bulk. She says children are essentially disgusting and should be considered a potential biohazard at all times.’
‘It shouldn’t be you who’s here,’ Catriona insisted. ‘Where’s Jed?’
‘Coming; he’s bringing the doctor.’
‘I don’t need a doctor,’ Catriona told her. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me. A touch of flu, that’s all. I’m forty-four, and the only time I’ve ever needed a doctor was the time I broke a wrist leading a rambling expedition over Bodmin Moor, and that was all a lot of fuss and bother. It’s not as if I couldn’t have walked back home. I didn’t break my leg.’
Tamsyn smiled. ‘You’re very stoic, Catriona.’
‘Nothing wrong with that,’ Catriona nodded. ‘That’s the trouble with the modern generation. They think that everything is a drama, every little hiccup that happens makes them the centre of the universe and that everyone has to look at them. God wants us to take our trouble on ourselves; he wants us to be strong, to endure. To accept the consequences of our actions, and then he will forgive us. If he knows we have repented, he will forgive us.’
‘There’s no harm in asking for help,’ Tamsyn said, thinking of Jed’s mini-sermon. ‘Love thy neighbour as you love yourself.’
‘That’s all very well and good,’ Catriona said. ‘But what if you hate yourself?’
‘Here we are,’ Jed said. ‘Sorry it took so long. I was just getting Dr Parsons a very strong coffee.’
‘Right then, Catriona, how are we?’ Dr Parsons, a very affable man, especially after a cider or two, sat down on the chair next to the bed.
‘Well, you look a little the worse for wear,’ Catriona told him. ‘I am fine. It will pass. All this too will pass, Mother used to say.’
‘It would pass a lot quicker if you’d take paracetamol to bring down this fever, and keep up your fluids,’ Dr Parsons told her. ‘You need to help yourself, Catriona.’
‘Fever is nature’s remedy,’ Catriona insisted.
‘To a point,’ Dr Parsons agreed. ‘But there’s no need to feel as bad as you do. Take the paracetamol every four hours. Jed tells me you came down with this yesterday evening, so hopefully in the morning you should start to feel better. But we need to drink plenty, don’t we?’
‘Well, it seems that you’re taking care of that side of things for us,’ Catriona said, turning her face away.
‘Isn’t there anything else we can do?’ Jed asked. ‘Antibiotics maybe?’
‘You know as well as I do that antibiotics won’t do a thing for a virus. She needs rest and fluids. She’ll be on the mend again soon enough, Jed.’
Remembering the commode, Tamsyn opened the lid, but found that the ceramic bowl it contained was bright, clean and unused.
‘You haven’t needed the loo?’ Tamsyn asked her, concerned, because although the extent of her medical knowledge mostly came from watching
Grey’s Anatomy
dubbed into French, she had a good idea that it might mean something was wrong with Catriona’s kidneys.
‘None of your business,’ Catriona snapped, sighing when all three of the intruders in her room continued to wait for an answer. ‘Look, I’m not so sick that I can’t walk to the toilet. And I am not so old that I am ready to let other people clean up my … business.’
‘I think she’ll be fine,’ Dr Parsons said. ‘I think you just need to check in on her. It looks to me like it’s the same bug that everyone’s got. Some people just get it worse than others, that’s all. It’s horrible but not life threatening. Perhaps arrange a rota, but be careful of the children, babies and the elderly. Anyone with asthma who hasn’t had a flu jab should stay away. It can be very nasty.’
‘I don’t need anyone to check on me,’ Catriona said.
‘Well, a full packet of paracetamol and an undrunk glass of water would say otherwise,’ Dr Parsons said. ‘Come on, take two while I’m here. It’s just gone eleven, so you should take some more after five.’
Tamsyn waited for Jed and the doctor to leave.
‘Catriona, is there anything you can tell me that you don’t want to say to a man?’ she asked. ‘I mean, you seemed to be in quite a lot of abdominal pain yesterday. Are you passing urine OK?’
‘Of course I am,’ Catriona said, affronted. ‘I’m fine, really.’
‘OK,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Well, I’d better get back; got a lot to do and I’ve barely started. I’m making new dresses for Alex and the bridesmaids. Her old ones got trashed in the flood.’
‘And the baby?’ Catriona asked her. ‘What’s happening to the baby?’
‘We’re still hoping the mother will come forward,’ Tamsyn said. ‘If not, they will start looking to find her a more permanent home. But Sue made the social worker let her stay with me until that time comes.’
‘There will be a couple out there,’ Catriona said, ‘who will cherish her. Who will see her as a gift from God, and she will have a wonderful life.’
‘Perhaps,’ Tamsyn said. ‘Perhaps, but perhaps there is still a chance for Mo and her mum. I hope so.’
But Catriona had turned her face to the wall again, and after a few more moments of silence Tamsyn supposed she was sleeping again.
Just as she was leaving she caught sight of someone moving outside, and taking her moment, Tamsyn let herself out of the front door and into the courtyard. The wind howled around her and the air crackled and crashed in fury, and sitting on the steps next to a very bedraggled bay tree, was Kirsten.
‘I’m not sure you should be out here,’ Tamsyn said, having to shout to make herself heard.
‘Why not? I’m not sitting under a tree or anything,’ Kirsten said. ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’
‘It’s amazing, yes,’ Tamsyn agreed, ‘but come inside. Please. I feel nervous, leaving you out here.’
Reluctantly Kirsten got to her feet and followed Tamsyn inside, another crescendo of thunder unleashing just as Tamsyn managed to push the door shut against the wind.
‘You don’t fancy the party?’ Tamsyn asked, having to catch her breath a little.
‘No one in there likes me,’ Kirsten said, matter-of-factly.
‘Or is it just that you push them away?’ Tamsyn asked her.
‘No. They don’t like me. They think I’m a skank. And you know my mum chose my stepdad over me and my brother … It does kind of undermine your self-esteem. That’s what Tess says, but she doesn’t know that I’m glad to be rid of her. It’s better to have no mum than one who hates you.’
‘Oh, Kirsten,’ Tamsyn looked down the corridor, past the noise and laughter of the party, and wondered where Mo was; suddenly she wanted to hold her close. ‘Your mum doesn’t hate you. She might not be very good at being a mum, but she doesn’t hate you.’
‘And how do you know that?’ Kirsten asked her. ‘You weren’t there when she told me … oh, what was it now? Oh yeah, that she hates me.’
‘You feel quite crappy, don’t you?’ Tamsyn said. ‘But you know, you are not alone. There are loads of people who …’
‘Care about me?’ Kirsten’s laugh was mirthless. ‘Like you, you care about me, do you? You turn up out of the blue and decide to care about everyone you bump into? Look, you might have bunked off school a bit when you were a kid and had one too many ciders in the park, but that is nothing like what’s happening to me. And the thing you people really don’t get is that I don’t care. I would rather be on my own than at home with that bitch, or in there with those fake cows. I’m not pretending not to care – I actually don’t. Now please, just go and take an interest in someone else. I don’t want to be your holiday project.’
‘But what about …?’ Tamsyn stopped herself just in time from asking about Mo outright. Kirsten was angry, hurt. But at least she was here. The last thing she wanted to do was chase her away. ‘How about you come and help me out with the dresses? I’ll need someone to help me organise my threads, my beads, sort out materials, maybe even do some cutting. I’ll need a dogsbody. What about that?’
‘Sounds like shit,’ Kirsten said, turning her back on Tamsyn and walking up the hallway, past the party and into the darkness.
‘So you’ll think about it then, yes?’ Tamsyn said.
It was almost three in the morning when Tamsyn could take a step back and know that everything was ready for sewing. At the far end of the tables was Alex’s dress, the pieces all cut and laid out, next to the pattern and ready to go. In an idea world Tamsyn would have made a calico toile first, to make sure that the pattern fitted, but there was no time; it was an almost impossible task as it was. All she could do was hope that the Poldore sewing and embroidering circle was as good as Jed and Sue claimed it was. The trick was going to be to work out what was best to do first, as the sewing, embroidering and beading all needed to happen at the same time. Panels would have to be embroidered and sewn in a particular order, that meant the dresses could be assembled at the same time as being embellished. Tamsyn was sure there would be a solution but her head hurt, and her brain was clouded from being so focused on her task and Mo, currently sleeping in her carrycot, was due a feed in three hours. It was time to get some sleep, perhaps make a cup of tea and go and find their room. After her shower, Tamsyn had raided Cordelia’s closet once again, found several pairs of her sister’s staple black leggings and a fine-knit grey sweater. It was really more like two squares sewn together, and was happily loose, because Tamsyn wasn’t as blessed as her little sister in the chest department, so it made more sense to go braless rather than put something on that would look like two deflated balloons under her clothes, unless she packed it with tissues, something she had vowed never to do again after the terrible date disaster of 2003.