Stay with Me (35 page)

‘What on earth are you talking about?' Lena glared at him.

‘It seems to have put you on edge. It appears as if, for you, the whole world revolves around this ship. You've just said what you desire, and that road could lead to ruin! We were comfortably off, running a good business . . .'

‘Have you no ambition?' she challenged him harshly.

‘Yes - to keep things as they were. But too late now. I fear we may be on the wrong road. It might have been better had I sold out to your brother . . .'

Lena's face darkened with anger. ‘Don't you ever think that! And don't you dare reverse our agreement and go behind my back to sell to that no-good brother of mine.'

‘No-good brother? There was a time when you didn't think so.'

‘Maybe, but look what he did to me.'

‘He didn't let you launch a ship? How trivial can you get?

‘He shut me out of the business.'

‘I thought your father did that with his Will?'

‘James could have let me in, in spite of what Father did, but he chose not to.'

‘Ah, so that's what this is all about - revenge? You've just mentioned your ambitions to make this firm the most powerful along the Yorkshire coast . . . and that means outsmarting your own brother.' Peter's eyes narrowed. ‘I'm beginning to think you're using me and my firm towards achieving that revenge. Be very careful how you tread, my dear.'

‘Is that a threat?'

‘Read it how you like.'

He swung towards the door but Lena was quickly beside him, grabbing his arm to pull him round. ‘Peter, I'm sorry. You're right - I've let things get on top of me. I'm so anxious for this to be a success for you. Please don't let us fall out.' Lena's eyes were pleading for forgiveness.

He felt his anger die as she looked up at him, and then he was lost. His arms came round her waist. He pulled her tightly to him and met her lips with a fierce kiss. As it ended he said hoarsely, ‘No more quarrelling. But, please, keep away from that shipyard.'

She nodded. ‘I promise.' She kissed him again. ‘Sealed with a kiss.'

He smiled. ‘Let's go home, there are better things to do there.'

Lena went willingly. But the thought never left her head that she had let things slip and now Peter was aware of her true ambition. She would have to play it down, tread warily as he had warned her.

During the next three months she did so and life resumed its old pattern, as if nothing eventful had happened between them. On his visits to the shipyard Peter found the men more settled thanks to Lena's continued absence from the site, except when she occasionally accompanied him at his invitation. She concentrated instead on building up good-will with suppliers of goods she knew would bring Hustwick's decent profits when their new ship was ready.

 

Olivia and her mother were in the nursery where little John was having his afternoon nap when they heard a loud knocking at the front door. They exchanged glances and received their answer when, a few moments later, a maid rushed in.

‘Ma'am, ma'am, come quickly!'

Her concern alarmed Olivia. ‘What is it, Anne?' she cried as she started for the door which the maid held open for her.

‘Mr Carnforth!'

Anxiety flooded Olivia. ‘What's wrong?'

Reaching the top of the stairs from which she could look down into the hall, she saw four men standing beside her husband whom they had laid on the floor. Fear almost suffocated her. ‘James!' she cried as she rushed down the stairs with the maid close behind her. Mrs Nash, concern lining her face, waited at the nursery door.

‘What happened?' Olivia asked, casting her glance around the four men, who were strangers to her.

‘Mr Carnforth was knocked down by a runaway horse and trap,' one of them explained.

Olivia was on her knees now beside her unconscious husband, feeling some relief in the fact that he was breathing at least. ‘Anne, quickly, find my brother!' The maid rushed from the house. Olivia looked at the men. ‘Can you bring him upstairs?'

They lifted him gently and proceeded up the stairs with care. On the landing, Olivia led the way to a room where they laid James on the bed.

‘Thank you,' she gasped.

Mrs Nash, who was still on the landing, also thanked them and, with a quick glance at baby John that told her he was asleep, hurried to her daughter's side.

Olivia was loosening her husband's dirt-stained jacket and then his cravat.

‘Do no more, wait for Alistair,' her mother advised.

As much as she felt she should be doing something, Olivia knew her mother was right. For endless anxious minutes they prayed James would regain consciousness, but he did not.

They heard the front door bang followed by footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Olivia was instantly at the bedroom door. ‘In here,' she cried, seeing her brother.

‘What happened?' he asked.

‘Knocked down by a runaway horse and trap. He must have been coming home, though why, at this time of day?'

Alistair was already at the bedside, making a quick observation. He began unfastening James's clothes so he could make a closer examination.

Olivia and her mother stood by, anxiety mounting with every passing second. Finally Alistair straightened up and looked at them with a serious expression. ‘I cannot disguise the gravity of his injuries. He has a broken leg and arm, but what concerns me most are the broken ribs and the possible internal damage from these. I would judge that he has taken a severe blow from a galloping horse and one of the trap's wheels then caught him as he fell. It's hard to tell at the moment all the damage that may have done. Can you send your maid to find Dr Jollif? I'd like a second opinion.'

Mrs Nash left the room to send Anne on another errand.

‘Olivia, help me get him out of these clothes and make him more comfortable so that I can attend to his broken limbs.'

Dr Jollif's arrival was a relief to Alistair. He gently persuaded Olivia to leave them so they could make a more thorough examination. The men went about this quickly but with care. Both were alarmed when James still showed no sign of regaining consciousness.

Dr Jollif was sombre-faced as he looked across the bed at Alistair. ‘It is difficult to assess the extent of the internal damage. I'm afraid we can do little more at the moment but wait for him to tell us exactly where the pain is so we can treat him accordingly.'

‘But you do think he will come round?' Alistair's doubt was evident in the way he voiced the question.

Dr Jollif read that doubt, which he shared but had not so far voiced. Now he did. ‘I don't think it very likely. Those blows on the head, which may have been caused by horse or trap or even the ground, are more severe than I first thought. The internal aspects, as you know, are difficult to assess and the patient may well have suffered internal bleeding as well as all the blood he has lost externally.' He paused then added solemnly, ‘I'm afraid I don't hold out much hope. I'm sorry, my boy. But there is always a chance. Care and attention can do wonders.'

‘I'd better get Olivia.' Alistair started for the door.

Dr Jollif bent over the prone figure again. ‘Wait!'

The sharp command stopped Alistair in his tracks and brought him swiftly back to the bedside.

Dr Jollif had his stethoscope to James's chest. The tension in the room was palpable.

‘The heartbeat is a little stronger.'

‘There's a chance then?' cried Alistair hopefully.

‘There's always a chance, my boy. It is only in the last resort that a doctor gives up. This young man will need a lot of care and attention.'

‘Olivia and her mother will see to that.'

‘I think a proper nurse is needed, someone who knows exactly what to do. Olivia can help but she has not the knowledge to do all that may be necessary.'

Alistair nodded. ‘I'll bring her in.'

A few minutes later he returned with his sister. Dr Jollif explained the situation to her. ‘I'm afraid I cannot recommend anyone in this area. Nurse Simpson is fully occupied. I'll contact a doctor friend of mine in York, but . . .'

‘Wait,' Olivia interrupted. She glanced at her brother. ‘Do you think Avril would come?'

‘Dr MacBride's daughter about whom you have spoken?' queried Dr Jollif.

‘Yes,' replied Alistair. ‘I think she would be most suitable. '

‘Then write to MacBride immediately.'

Alistair did so and three days later was in York to meet Avril.

‘Thank you for coming so promptly,' he said after the initial greeting was over; it had been too formal for Avril's liking, but maybe his mind was preoccupied with his patient.

‘It was no more than I should do,' she replied as they hurried from the station to find the carriage he had driven to the station from Whitby. ‘How is James?' she asked, bearing in mind the information that had been revealed in the letter to her father.

‘No change. He's still in a coma. At least, he was when I left yesterday. I stayed the night in York so I would be here when your train arrived. Do you feel up to the drive to Whitby after your journey?'

‘Of course! The sooner I am there, the more I will feel I am doing something to help.'

Once he had told her all about James, the diagnosis, and Dr Jollif's conclusion, Avril put the question to him, ‘Do you agree with this?'

‘Oh, yes, it was my conclusion too.' The firmness and certainty of his reply told her he was not slavishly copying his more experienced mentor but had formed his own opinion. Avril was pleased but kept that observation to herself.

Once the medical aspects were out of the way she directed their conversation to news of her family and more light-hearted topics, for she recognised Alistair was under severe strain. If only she could be the one to stay at his side, to offer him comfort and support. In the meantime, she would do all she could for his brother-in-law.

Avril quickly settled into the routine of the Carnforths' house. She took charge of the sick room quietly and without intrusion, sensing Olivia was more than pleased to have someone there who was trained in nursing the sick and incapacitated. Though Avril made no comment, after four days she shared the two doctors' outlook on James's likely prognosis.

A week passed during which Alistair visited the patient twice every day. On the eighth day he arrived mid-morning. When he came into the sick room he asked, ‘Any change?'

Avril shook her head. ‘None. He seems peaceful. The internal injuries you and Dr Jollif thought he might have sustained have not so far manifested themselves, and in that at least I think he has been very lucky. But I am not so hopeful concerning his head injuries.'

‘They can create unusual or unforseen repercussions in the rest of the body. We don't as yet know enough about the brain, I'm afraid, but head injuries are the hardest to treat.'

‘We can only keep on as we are, and trust in God.'

‘I think for an hour or so we must break the pattern.'

She looked sharply at him. ‘Is there something I am not doing right?'

‘Oh, my dear Avril, you are doing everything right. We are so lucky to have you. No, it is you for whom I am concerned. Apart from snatching some sleep, you are constantly in the sick room. You need to get out, have some fresh air.'

‘I don't . . .'

‘You are going to protest, and I am going to stop you. It is a beautiful day. Get your coat. You and I will take a walk on the West Pier. The sea air will do you good. I mentioned this to Olivia when I arrived and she is in full agreement. She will come and sit with James. Come on.' Alistair held out his hand and when she took it, pulled her to her feet.

When they reached the West Pier and felt the salt-laden breeze, Avril snatched her bonnet from her head and let the wind blow through her hair as she shook it free and turned her face to the sun. She breathed in deeply several times, and then her shoulders relaxed. ‘Oh that is so good,' she said, half to herself, but he caught the words.

Alistair smiled. ‘I'm so glad. Let's walk to the lighthouse. '

‘I'd love to.'

They fell into unhurried step, speaking little but enjoying being away from the confines of the sick room. When they reached the lighthouse they stood still while Avril admired the view, with the white-flecked sea running fast into the shore or crashing against the towering cliffs beyond.

‘That's a wonderful sight,' she said, then glancing at him, asked, ‘You like being in Whitby, Alistair?'

‘It has always been my home.'

‘And you still regard it as such, in spite of bad memories? '

‘Those belong the past. The happier ones to come I will treasure.'

‘Did you never consider the sea, in view of your father's successful business?'

‘Never.'

‘What made you want to become a doctor?'

‘'I think it was visiting Dundee and seeing what your father was doing there to help people try to better their living conditions. I vowed that one day I would do the same in Whitby.'

‘Are you having any success?'

‘I like to think so, even if only in a small way.'

‘I'm sure you'll succeed.'

‘But there is so much that still needs doing . . . no, enough of me! You have a gift for being able to help people in their illnesses, and I do appreciate your being here to help with James. I know Olivia does too. Whatever happens, we always will be grateful to you. And I am especially grateful that today you have taken my mind off more sombre things.'