Goodnight Mister Tom (27 page)

By the time Tom had remade the bed Will had fallen asleep. His small stubbled head lay flopped over one of the arms of the armchair. Tom picked him up and carried him back up the ladder. It was the fifth time that he had changed the sheets and had soothed Will after a horrific nightmare.

Will was relieved when daylight filtered into his room. He dreaded the terrors of night.

Zach meanwhile visited the cottage regularly but Will was usually asleep when he called and Tom didn’t want to disturb him. Day after day a tremendous fatigue swept through and drained his entire body. Eating took a supreme effort and the smallest task, be it cleaning his teeth or holding a book, exhausted him into another deep sleep.

One night he was so feverish that Tom stayed by his bed keeping watch. Sammy had been left downstairs in the front room with the door closed firmly behind him.

Will moaned and cried out, pushing the blankets away from his legs. He arched his back and gritted his teeth like a baby having an hysterical tantrum and with flailing limbs he appeared to be fighting some powerful force. The sweat trickled down him in never-ending streams. Tom felt quite helpless. There was nothing he could do except stay with Will and go with what was happening. He hugged him when he woke and encouraged him to talk about his nightmares as much as possible.

By four o’clock in the morning Will had soaked every sheet in the cottage and was now reduced to wearing yet another of Tom’s shirts. He grew increasingly hotter until, at one point, Tom was sorely tempted to run over to the Littles to fetch the Doctor. He quickly dismissed the idea. He didn’t dare leave in case Will should wake from one of his nightmares during his absence.

It was during one particular dream that Will suddenly froze on the bed. He spread his legs and arms outwards as if backing up against a wall, tipped his head back, and let out the wildest and most terrifying scream Tom had ever heard. It shook him to his very bowels. He couldn’t remember how long the scream lasted. It sounded like a baby crying in despair, an old forgotten scream that must have been swallowed down years before.

He found himself being dragged back to the day when Rachel had given birth to their son. Tom had been a young man of twenty then and still very deeply in love. He remembered how he had paced the floor in the living room listening to her moans from the bedroom and then the sudden silence. He had turned to find the midwife standing at the door shaking her head sadly. He remembered how he had run across the hall and into their bedroom, how he had clasped Rachel’s hand. She had smiled so tenderly at him. He tried to ignore how thin and pallid she was and had glanced down at her side to where a tiny red-faced baby lay.

‘Ent he beautiful,’ she had whispered and he had nodded and watched helplessly as the old familiar colour of scarlatina spread across both their faces.

‘Yous’ll have to git blue,’ she had whispered to him for during her pregnancy he had brought her a new pot of paint for each month of her being with child. The ninth was to be blue if she had given birth to a boy, primrose yellow if it had been a girl.

After they had died he had bought the pot of blue paint and placed it in the black wooden box that he had made for her one Christmas, when he was eighteen. As he closed the lid so he had shut out not only the memory of her but also the company of anyone else that reminded him of her.

He glanced down at Will who had suddenly become quiet. He gave a start and opened his eyes. His lips had turned blue. Tom raised him to a sitting position and stroked his back as if he was a baby with wind.

‘Keep breathin’, boy,’ he murmured. ‘Keep breathin’.’

Will released his breath and as he gulped in a fresh lungful of air he began to vomit violently.

It was after this incident that he began to sleep more easily. He had reached the climax of his nightmares and they no longer haunted him.

One morning, several days later, he awoke feeling refreshed.

A smell of bacon and eggs drifted through the floor-boards and although the blacks were up and his nightlight was still on he could hear the sounds of birds and the old familiar whirring of a tractor in the distance.

‘Mister Tom,’ he yelled. ‘Mister Tom.’

In seconds Tom’s head appeared through the hatchway and Sammy scampered across the floor and jumped on to his bed.

‘You’se lookin’ good,’ he remarked. ‘You got colour in yer cheeks.’

He walked over to the window and removed the blacks. Sunlight danced into the room. Tom propped the window up and extinguished the nightlight.

Will pushed his legs over to the side of his bed and stood up with a wobble only to sit down suddenly again.

‘They ent had much use,’ commented Tom, noticing the anxious frown on Will’s face. ‘They’ll git stronger. Remember…’ but Will finished the sentence for him.

‘Everythin’ has its own time,’ and he laughed.

It was good to see Will smile again. It made Tom feel lively, rejuvenated.

‘Breakfast in bed, sir?’ he said cheerily. ‘I takes it yer hungry.’

Will nodded and grinned.

Tom propped the pillows up and left him sitting happily with a book. Sammy snuggled in next to him. It was like the old days.

Downstairs, Tom began to prepare a royal breakfast. As he broke an egg into the frying pan he started singing. He too felt released. While he was singing he heard a tap at the window. He looked up to find Zach peering in.

‘Come on in,’ he said.

‘I say,’ blurted out Zach excitedly as he ran breathlessly into the room. ‘He’s better, isn’t he?’

Tom nodded.

‘You can see him after he’s eaten his breakfast.’

‘Oh gosh, I can’t wait till then. He’ll take an age with that lot,’ he said, indicating the toast and mushrooms, egg and bacon. ‘You know what he’s like. He chews his food.’

‘That’s usual, ent it?’ remarked Tom in surprise.

‘Oh no. I just give mine a few bites and swallow it but he chews and chews. Couldn’t I sort of drape myself inconspicuously on a chair while he’s devouring that lot?’

‘You inconspicuous?’ commented Tom wryly. ‘You jest wait. You’se waited long enough already. A few minutes won’t make that much difference.’

‘That’s what they say in novels,’ moaned Zach. ‘A few minutes can be a jolly eternity,’ but his words were lost on Tom for he was half-way up the ladder.

Zach plunged his hands deep into the pockets of his red corduroy shorts and stared out at the graveyard. It was a glorious spring day. He had abandoned his boots and socks and had retrieved his battered sandals from their winter hibernation. The only other garment he wore was a white collarless man’s cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It billowed out in voluminous folds between his braces.

It was now the first week in May. The spring holidays had ended and already the summer term had begun. Now that Mrs Hartridge had had her baby and was no longer teaching, Mrs Black had been splitting her energies between the two classes.

‘You want tea?’ asked Tom on his return.

‘Yes, please. How is he?’ he added urgently.

‘Hungry.’

He took a large gulp from his tea and gave a yell as it burnt his lip.

‘I know, you don’t have to tell me,’ said Zach catching Tom’s eye. ‘Look before you leap,’ and he blew on it and sipped it hurriedly.

‘Does he know I’m here?’

‘No. I didn’t want to disturb his breakfast.’

‘Oh, Mr Tom,’ he cried despondently, thrusting his cup dramatically on to the table.

‘No offence to you,’ Tom added. ‘It’s jest I knows how over-excited he gets.’

After what seemed hours to Zach, Will called from upstairs. Zach followed Tom into the hall.

‘Wait,’ Tom whispered.

‘I see. Then it’ll be a surprise. I say, what a wizard…’ but Tom was already through the hatchway.

He reappeared soon after.

‘All right,’ he said. ‘You can come on up.’

Zach waited impatiently for him to reach the bottom of the ladder and then half running, half stumbling, he flung himself upwards.

Tom stood in the hallway listening to their yells of delight. He cast his eyes upwards to an imaginary heaven.

‘Couple of doughbags,’ he remarked.

Zach bounced at the end of Will’s bed and hit his head on the eave. A round pink lump appeared immediately at the side of his forehead. Sammy scrabbled over the bedcovers and smelt and nuzzled him all over.

‘You’re ever so bony,’ exclaimed Zach, ‘but you look much much better.’

‘Me legs are a bit wobbly.’

‘How romantic to be stuck in bed with a fever. Rather like Keats, or Elizabeth Barrett Browning or the Brontë sisters.’

‘Romantic?’

‘Yes. I wonder if you’ll be like Heidi’s cousin, you know, the one in the wheelchair who has it pushed down the mountain and then she walks.’

‘Wheelchair?’ said Will in alarm. ‘I ent that bad.’

‘Pity!’

They looked at each other and smiled broadly. The stubble round Will’s head had grown past it’s prickly stage and had developed into a thin layer of sandy coloured fluff.

‘I expect you’re dying to know all the news,’ said Zach, crossing his legs and making sure he was quite comfortable.

‘You’se goin’ to tell it to me anyway,’ remarked Will.

‘I say, you’ve lost your London accent. You’ve gone all yokel.’

‘Have I?’

‘Miss Thorne will have the screaming abdabs when she hears you. She gives elocution lessons now, to the dramatics group.’

Will pushed himself up excitedly.

‘Is she still doin’ plays, like?’

‘You bet and she can’t wait for you to be well. You’re one of her prodigies. I’m as jealous as anything, of course,’ and he smote his chest and gazed up at the ceiling.

‘What was it like?
Toad of Toad Hall
?’

‘Oh, great fun. I was marvellous, of course. Missed you though terribly, and Carrie. She’s still swotting madly for this wretched exam. She’s even learning Latin and a bit of Greek from Mr Peters. I’m sure she needn’t. Folks round here already say she’s a queer one. Oh, by the way,’ he added after a pause, ‘Mrs Hartridge has had a baby girl.’

‘A baby,’ repeated Will and he paled.

‘I say, are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ said Will quietly.

‘You don’t look it. Do you want me to call Mister Tom?’

‘No. I’m all right.’

‘If you say so. The baby’s called Peggy. Oh dear,’ he sighed. ‘I haven’t cheered you up very much. You’ve been looking miserabler and miserabler ever since I came in.’

Will smiled.

‘Oh, I forgot,’ he said suddenly. ‘Lucy missed you terribly too. Mrs Padfield told me she hasn’t eaten properly in weeks. She’s lost her pudding look, well, round her body. Her cheeks still seem just as enormous.’

Will scowled.

‘You don’t like her very much, do you?’

‘It ent that,’ said Will squirming. ‘It’s jes, it’s jes… She’s a girl.’

‘So are the twins.’

‘They’re different. They ent, they ent…’

‘Lovey dovey?’

‘Yis. Lovey dovey,’ and he couldn’t help but laugh at his own embarrassment.

‘And,’ continued Zach, remembering something else. ‘Aunt Nance and Uncle Oz dragged out one of their children’s old bicycles and I’ve been cleaning and derusting it and doing odd jobs so I can save up for two new inner tyres. The old ones are riddled with holes.’

He sat back and puckered his brows in an effort to remember any other news. ‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘There’s talk of forming a Home Guard, same as Local Defence Volunteers only more official I think and, oh yes, there’s two land army girls up at Hillbrook Farm and there’s talk of the Grange being used as a maternity hospital.’

‘Hospital?’ said Will alarmed.

‘Well, nursing home,’ said Zach, sensing that he had put his foot in it.

‘What’s that?’

‘A place where women who can’t be at home have their babies.’

‘Babies,’ said Will, feeling sick.

‘Yes,’ said Zach, puzzled at his reaction.

‘Don’t they come from Jesus, like?’

‘Of course not. Oh,’ he said, ‘you don’t know.’

‘Know what?’

‘About sex.’

Will blushed scarlet.

‘I know it’s somethin’ dirty and you goes to hell for it.’

‘Rot!’ exclaimed Zach. ‘We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for sex. It’s what happens between men and women when they love each other.’

‘What, kissin’ and touchin’?’ said Will, feeling a little hot.

‘Well, that’s a good beginning.’

‘But kissin’s a sin, ent it?’

‘No. That’s what you do when you love someone. Look, the woman has a seed inside her and a man has a seed inside him and when they reach one another they join up and the man gives the woman his seed. If the seed sticks to one of the woman’s seeds it grows into an egg and the egg grows into a baby inside the woman and when the baby’s grown enough and is ready to be born it shoots out of the mother.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. My parents told me and they don’t lie.’

‘Your parents told you!’

‘Yes. Look, ask me any questions you want. I’ll tell you all I know.’

‘Thanks.’

‘It isn’t dirty,’ continued Zach. ‘Unless you make it that way.’

‘Can’t a lady have a baby on her own?’

‘No. There has to be a man to give her his seed.’ He stood up abruptly. ‘I’m going to get Mister Tom. You look dreadful.’

Tom popped his head through the hatchway.

‘What was that about me, then?’ he remarked.

He glanced at Will. ‘I think you’d best go home, Zach. Overdone it a bit.’

‘Yes, that’s what I thought. Can I come again tomorrow?’

‘Oh yes, please do,’ urged Will.

Tom sat at the end of his bed and waited till Zach’s footsteps had disappeared out of hearing.

‘Now then, what’s up?’

Will looked startled.

‘Best tell me.’

‘It’s about Trudy.’

‘I think you know already,’ added Tom quietly.

‘She’s dead, ent she?’

He nodded.

‘My fault,’ he choked out. ‘My fault. I killed her. I made her die.’

‘How?’

‘She cried and cried and I nursed her, like. I held her real good. I rocked her. I gives her the milk in the bottle and then there wasn’t no more.’