Secrets to Keep (27 page)

Despite his good fortune earlier in being awarded the invaluable help of a nun, for which he was very grateful despite the fact that her attending patients on his behalf meant a lost fee for him, Ty returned from his morning round feeling more depressed than he usually did. He had examined and decided on the best treatment for all those he had been asked to visit, ignoring as best he could the dire conditions the majority of those patients lived in. He had been bemused by a statement made by one patient, though in fact it had been said to him a couple of times previously by others visiting him at his surgery, that they were only seeing him because the old woman … whoever she was … was not available at the moment for them to get their treatments from. Then, as he’d been about to knock on the door of a patient he was
treating for a nasty leg ulcer that needed redressing, the sort of chore which in future Sister Teresa could tackle on his behalf, from a house in the row opposite a woman rushed out into the street, a bundle in her arms, wailing hysterically that her baby had stopped breathing.

Automatically, Ty rushed to take the child from her, dashing with it into her house and sweeping his arm out to clear the clutter off the rickety kitchen table so that he could lay the child on it while he examined it. There was nothing he could do. The baby was already dead and long past resuscitation. It transpired that the six-month-old child had been fretful while it was teething and in her effort to quieten it, the mother had given it a dose of laudanum – or overdose as it turned out. This was not the first child who had met its end in the same or similar circumstances since Ty had taken over the practice and it reduced him to despair that some mothers around these parts would resort to using such highly addictive substances, just to stop their babies from crying. Usually he managed to keep control of his feelings and go on his way, but today he’d been unable to hold then back. Did they not realise how precious a young life was? He had vented his anger on the already distraught woman, leaving her in no doubt that she was responsible for the death of her baby.

Aidy was to find out about this incident later, and
of Ty’s reaction. An idea then struck her of just how the doctor could help to avoid any repetition of the sad event in future, but putting her idea to him was a different matter. He had already made it very clear to her it wasn’t her place to tell him how to run his surgery.

Due to this incident it was after two o’clock when Ty returned. Aidy had already left for her afternoon break. For a moment he stood in the hall and listened to the silence. A sudden wave of loneliness engulfed him. With a shock he realised he was actually missing his receptionist’s presence; her just being here brought life to the house. He discovered he liked her welcoming him back with a hot cup of tea, asking him as she always did, ‘How did the round go this morning … this afternoon … then, Doc?’ To which he would always reply in his curt manner, ‘Fine, thank you.’

It still managed to infuriate him that she insisted on addressing him as ‘Doc’, no matter how much he reprimanded her. He had every right to dismiss her for such patent lack of respect towards him … but, more and more, he was beginning to realise that he actually liked her more informal way of addressing him.

So far as her work went she hadn’t given him any reason to regret employing her. She seemed to be getting on with sorting the record cards, albeit it was
taking her an age. Though, in fairness, it wasn’t exactly a straightforward job, there being over five thousand records for her to work her way through, and many for current patients that needed to be found quickly should they call in for a consultation. He’d be glad, though, when she’d finished it and be free to take more of the mundane jobs off his shoulders, such as the resharpening of the needles and instruments on the honing block and sterilising them by boiling; ordering the drugs, doing the accounts … how he detested that time-consuming job! He wouldn’t hand that over completely to her as what he ultimately earned was a private matter, but much of the preliminary work could be done by her.

The patients seemed to like her, judging by the favourable comments he had received from several of them during their visits. She did, though, irritate him with her endless questions whenever he asked her to do something she hadn’t done before, extracting every minute detail from him on just how he wanted the job doing in a way he felt an experienced clerical person like her shouldn’t need to. But he passed this off as her making sure she did exactly what he was expecting of her, so that there were no mistakes on her part. And he did prefer her to do that as mistakes could cost lives in his profession.

He became aware of the deathly silence again; that overwhelming sense of loneliness reinvaded him. For
a fleeting moment he wished for nothing more in the world than Aidy to appear; her presence, her zest for life, to lift his gloom. He gave himself a mental shake. Now and again he was bound to feel lonely, bound to crave the company of other human beings, but it was the price he had to pay in order not to put himself in danger again.

Very conscious that he was already late on making a start on his afternoon round, he hurried into the kitchen to put together a sandwich to wolf down while he replenished items in his medical bag. Once there he stopped short, spotting that the plate and cup he’d used for breakfast and left in the sink to see to later had been washed and put away. On the kitchen table was a plate covered by another and a cup with a saucer over it. Curiously, he stepped over to look under the plate. He found a very appetising-looking cheese and pickle sandwich. Under a saucer, in an effort to keep it hot, was a cup of tea.

As time had worn on and he had still not returned, Aidy had obviously realised his round was taking him much longer than usual. Knowing he would not have time to prepare himself lunch before he’d need to depart on his afternoon round, she had taken it upon herself to prepare something for him. It was indeed both thoughtful and efficient of her. He was very appreciative of her gesture but wouldn’t
express it to her, of course. For Ty, any relationship with a woman from now on would be kept strictly on a business footing.

At just after three o’clock that afternoon, basket of provisions for that day sitting at her feet, Aidy scanned her eyes over the children leaving school. They were mostly shabby and ragged-looking, a few with no shoes on their feet, spilling out of the school entrance and swarming across the playground to join their equally shabby mothers or else making their own way home with friends. There was no sign of any of her siblings. She hoped none of them had been kept back for any reason. She had been gearing herself up all day for what she had to tell them, and wanted to get it over with. After that she needed to steel herself for her visit to Arch, in the hope he would be feeling benevolent enough to agree to her taking the mattress.

Fifteen minutes later, the multitude of pupils streaming through the door and filling the playground had thinned down to a few last stragglers, and still there was no sign of Aidy’s brother and sisters. It was worrying that not one of them had made an appearance yet. She was just about to go inside and make enquiries when she spotted Marion’s teacher, Miss Amelia Siddings, emerging from the door dressed for home. She was a very pretty, slim woman
who hardly looked old enough to have left school herself. She smiled on spotting Aidy and changed direction to join her.

‘Did one of the Greenwood children forget something? The caretaker will help you find whatever it is, I’m sure. I just saw him in classroom three as I was leaving. You should still find him there. Please excuse me won’t you, only I’m in a rush to get home tonight.’

Probably got a date with a handsome man, Aidy thought. She said, ‘My brother and sisters certainly have forgotten something, Miss Siddings. Forgot to come out of school!’

Amelia Siddings looked taken aback for a moment before she responded, ‘Oh, but aren’t you aware they were all sent home mid-morning? Not only your sisters and brother but half of the school, it seems. It appears we have a measles epidemic and Marion, Betty and George have certainly succumbed to it, according to the headmistress. The children who were affected started showing the signs of being ill soon after assembly and Miss Frinton immediately recognised what was ailing them all. Thankfully I had the illness as a child so I’m immune to it. Hardly pleasant for a child to suffer, but I understand it is really nasty for adults to go through.’

Aidy was looking stunned. So Betty had been showing the first signs she’d caught this awful disease
the previous night, and Aidy herself had just dismissed it as over-tiredness. And Marion wasn’t just blackmailing her grandmother into a cuddle and a story, she really wasn’t feeling well either. George wouldn’t complain of feeling under the weather even if he was, seeing it as not the manly thing to do. Guilt swamped her for not taking more notice of her siblings. Then panic reared within her. The three of them had been sent home that morning? That meant they would have encountered their father before she’d had a chance to explain it all to them.

Much to Amelia Siddings’ surprise, Aidy turned tail and ran off like the devil himself was on her tail.

She burst through the door into the back room and stopped short, taking in the scene before her. Her grandmother lay on the sofa, her face tight with suppressed anger and frustration, lips pressed together firmly. It was obviously she was fearful of saying something that could result in catastrophe for them all. Arnold lay sprawled in the armchair, his nose buried in the racing pages of a newspaper. He looked a sight cleaner than he had done when he had arrived, obviously having had a thorough wash down and a shave. Aidy just worried how much extra fuel he had used heating up all the water.

On hearing her enter, without lifting his eyes from what he was studying, he growled, ‘Good, yer home. That fire needs banking up.’

She fought to stop her temper flaring. ‘And couldn’t you have done that?’ she evenly responded.

He did lift his head then to smirk at her. ‘Why should I when I have my lovely family around to wait on me hand and foot?’

She almost forgot herself then, to tell him where to go, but remembered her primary concern. She addressed Bertha. ‘I understand the kids were sent home from school this morning, suffering from measles. Where are they?’

It was her father that snarled back at her. ‘Where they should be. In bed. I don’t wanna see their faces down here until they’ve been given the all clear.’ Dropping the newspaper in a crumpled heap, Arnold eased his bony body out of the chair, gave a yawn and a stretch, and announced, ‘I’m off to the privy. Have the fire made up and a cuppa mashed for when I get back.’

He walked out, leaving Aidy glaring after him.

His departure gave Bertha the opportunity to vent all the pent-up fury she’d had to control until now. ‘That man!’ she fumed. ‘He’d try the patience of God Himself, let alone a saint. He wasn’t the nicest of people by the time he left yer mam the second time, Aidy, but those years he’s been away have turned him real nasty. Obviously the better life he thought he’d get never happened. Now he’s harbouring a deep grudge over it and teking it out on all of us.’

She eyed Aidy earnestly. ‘It’s been hell on earth for me today, him snarling his snide sarky comments at me ’cos I can’t fetch and carry for him and he had to get his own breakfast, moaning all the time ’cos there were no eggs and bread left and he had to make do with porridge. Then he was grumbling ’cos he had to boil his own water for his wash down. Mind you, at least he had one … a dustbin smells pleasanter than he did! Thank God you’ve come home. I don’t think I can keep me promise to keep me mouth shut any longer, love. It took me all me strength today not to give that bastard a piece of me mind.’

Aidy reminded her, ‘Well, you’re just going to have to try, Gran. He will throw you out if you cross him, I’ve no doubt of it. And are you going to be able to live with yourself if we’re all reduced to traipsing the streets?’

Bertha shook her head.

‘Well, then. I know it’s hard but just ignore him, Gran. Look, I promise I’ll find a way to get him out.’

‘I so wish you could, but I don’t see how.’

‘Nor do I, but I’ll try and find one. Nobody wants him gone more than I do, Gran. I hate him! I hate breathing the same air as he does. I hate the thought of the kids finding out what type of man their f—.’ She stopped short, her face filling with horror. ‘Oh, Gran, the kids!’

Bertha’s face coloured guiltily. ‘I haven’t been able to check on them since they came home, see if the poor little blighters need anything, ’cos I can’t get off this sofa, can I? There was no point in me asking
him
if he would check on them, ’cos I knew the answer.

‘Oh, Aidy, it were awful when they all trooped in, looking so sorry for themselves. It was obvious they weren’t at all well. As soon as George appeared in the doorway, he told me they’d been sent home as the teacher told them they’d all got measles. On hearing the word,
he
let rip, of course. Screamed blue murder at them to get up the stairs and out of his sight, and not to come down ’til there was no danger of him catching it. I’ve never seen them scarper upstairs so quick in all their lives! Poor little souls have no idea who he is, let alone why he’s bellowing orders at them. They must be worried witless. They haven’t had a drink or anything to eat since they came home …’

Aidy’s thoughts were in a whirl. All the time she had been shopping and waiting at the school, the children had been feeling ill and frightened. How did she explain to them that the strange man who had terrified them was their own father, and that for the foreseable future he would be living here with them?