Stormspell (6 page)

'He still sleeping in your room?' Celeste asked, bustling along the hall, and Ruth, trailing in her wake, nodded.

'I'm sleeping in the living room.' she added, her pulses racing as they neared Dominic's door. 'Daddy offered me his bed, but I refused. I'm quite comfortable on the couch.'

'Hmm!' Celeste snorted, reaching for the handle and flinging open the door. Then both women stopped, aghast. In the light shed from the hall they could see Dominic was no longer occupying the bed. He was stretched out on the floor, and judging by the way he was lying, he must have collapsed.

'Oh, gosh!'

Ruth turned anxious eyes in Celeste's direction, but the black woman was already moving forward, bending over the unconscious man. 'He have a fever,' she exclaimed, laying her hand against his forehead. 'Why you not tell me this before, Missy? Mr Howard, he poorly sick!'

Ruth expelled her breath unsteadily. 'I did tell you. Celeste.' she protested, pushing her hands into the pockets of her shorts and pulling them out again. 'Oh. lord, what are we going to do?'

Celeste straightened. 'It that cut in his arm.' she declared, her black face brooding as she considered her diagnosis. 'Sometime it happen this way. Feller feels okay, think it not going to trouble him. Then them little germs, they come along and throw you to the sharks.'

'All right. Celeste. I understand that.' said Ruth, trying to be patient. 'But what can we do?'

'I could have told you this was going to happen.' went on Celeste, as if Ruth hadn't spoken. 'I seen it all before. You remember that time little Bobby was bitten by his pet mongoose? Your daddy thought his leg was going to be all right, and what happened? Day after, it swell up like a balloon—'

'Celeste, please!' Ruth took hold of the other woman's arm and shook it. i know about secondary infection. And I'm not interested in what happened to little Bobby! I want to know what we ought to do now. Shouldn't we get him back on to the bed?'

Celeste looked as though she might take umbrage from the irritation in Ruth's voice, but the desperation in the younger girl's face won her compassion. 'Help me lift him,' she directed, taking charge of Dominic's shoulders, and with a struggle they managed to lever him back on to the mattress.

Ruth was panting with exertion by the time Celeste was satisfied, and she stood looking down at their patient with troubled eyes. The hectic flush which had coloured his face earlier had now drained away, and his pallor was frightening. His skin had an unhealthy grey sheen, and when Celeste put her thumb against his eyelid the pupil rolled sightlessly upward.

'What can we do?' Ruth appealed again. 'Oh. Celeste, he's not going to die. is he?'

Celeste looked at her curiously. 'You care?' she probed sardonically, and Ruth gave her an indignant stare.

'Of course I care,' she declared, aware of Celeste's interpretation of her flaming cheeks. 'I'd care about anybody in the same circumstances. I care about human life. Celeste. Don't you?'

'Perhaps not so passionately.' retorted the black woman dryly, making her own assessment. 'But if you feel so strongly about it. I guess you better wake your daddy. We need a doctor here, and ain't no way you and me's going to conjure one.'

The rest of the night passed in a blur of anxious speculation, of restlessness and impatience, and helpless impotence. Once her father was awakened, he took charge of the situation, and in no time at all Ruth found herself banished to his bed. there to remain until she was summoned.

'But I can help.' she protested, only to come up against an implacable opposition.

'Try to get some sleep,' her father told her firmly, and she had no choice but to do as he asked. Arguing would have proved time-wasting and futile, she knew that, and besides, her father could ill afford to waste his energies.

In consequence, she spent the night pacing the floor of Professor Jason's bedroom, not knowing what was going on. unable to do anything but wait in fretful impatience for the morning. She knew Celeste and her father would do everything they could, but that didn't help her. and frustration drew dark circles around her eyes as the hours passed. Had they sent for Doctor Francis? Would he come in time? Had Dominic regained consciousness? Had they succeeded in lowering his temperature? Her mind buzzed with questions, and despite her weariness she could not relax.

Nevertheless, towards morning exhaustion drove her to lie down on the bed. She would just rest for a while, she thought drowsily, and knew nothing more until the fingers of sunlight, creeping through the shutters, probed her heavy eyelids.

She rose hurriedly, and opening the bedroom door, peered down the hall. All was quiet. Her bedroom door was closed, and there was no sign of either her father or Celeste.

Feeling rather like the sole survivor of some awful disaster, she stole along the hall to the kitchen, then expelled her breath in some relief when she saw Celeste busy at the stove. The black woman was dressed now. her buxom form exaggerated by a dress with gaudy red and white flowers all over it, and Ruth felt guiltily aware that she had contributed nothing to the previous night's activities.

'Hi.' she said, supporting herself in the doorway. 'Where's Daddy?'

Celeste turned with a start, snorting impatiently when she saw Ruth's uneasy expression. 'So there you are at last.' she declared, placing her hands squarely on her hips. 'Some nurse you are. abandoning your patient!'

'How is he?' Ruth asked eagerly. 'Did Daddy send for Doctor Francis? I was so worried, but nobody came to tell me what was going on.'

'Mmm.' Celeste looked sceptical. 'You were worried all right. You were fast asleep when I looked in on you a couple of hours ago.'

'I know.' Ruth sighed. 'I stayed awake for ages, but then I must have closed my eyes. I don't remember anything else.' She moved her shoulders helplessly. 'So what happened? Where is—Mr Howard? Is he better?'

'Me. I don't get tired. I suppose.' Celeste grumbled. not answering her. 'I stay awake all night, but no one asks how I am.'

'Oh. Celeste!' Ruth came into the kitchen, spreading her arms apologetically. 'I'm sorry. I did want to help, but Daddy said—'

'I know what your daddy said.' declared Celeste, nodding vigorously. 'He say you too young, he say you not old enough to know about such things. You want I should disobey your daddy and tell you things he don't want you to know?'

Ruth kept her temper with difficulty. 'Celeste, please, tell me what's happened. Did Daddy send for Doctor Francis? If you don't tell me soon, I'll scream!'

'Don't do that.' Celeste glanced apprehensively towards the door. 'Why you so interested, anyway?'

'Celeste!'

'All right, all right.' The black woman hunched her shoulders resignedly and turned back to the stove. 'Mr Howard, he pretty sick man. His arm. it infected. Doctor say it could be matter of life and death.'

Ruth blanched. 'Doctor Francis has been here?'

'He here.' said Celeste nonchalantly, nodding towards the door of the dining room. 'What you think I doing? I making breakfast for your daddy and the doctor.'

'But Mr Howard!' exclaimed Ruth, resting her trembling hands on the table. 'Celeste, what do you mean? A matter of life and death?'

Celeste hesitated a moment, and then, as if feeling compassion for the girl's obvious distress, she added offhandedly: 'I didn't say it was a matter of life and death. I said doctor say it
could
be.'

Ruth felt suddenly weak. 'Celeste, what are you talking about?'

The black woman shrugged. 'If n we hadn't called Doctor Francis like we did. your Mr Howard might have died.'

Ruth sank down slackly into a chair. 'But he's not going to?'

'No.' Celeste broke eggs into a basin and began beating them up. 'Leastways, it ain't so likely.'

Ruth licked her dry lips. 'You said he was a sick man.'

'He is. Pretty sick.' Celeste agreed, pouring the eggs into a pan. 'That fever, it draining all the strength out of him.'

Ruth stared at her. 'You mean he's still got the fever?'

'Yes'm.' Celeste could be obtuse when she chose. 'You want breakfast, too? Go see your daddy. I'll fetch it in.'

'I don't want any breakfast.' said Ruth impatiently. turning to stare over her shoulder for a moment, before looking back at Celeste. 'Are they going to take him to hospital?'

'Not to my knowing.' replied Celeste indifferently. 'You want some coffee?'

'I've told you. I don't want anything.' said Ruth shortly, and Celeste arched her eyebrows.

'You mighty worried about that man, ain't you, honey?' she observed tormentingly. 'I wonder what your daddy think about that.'

'It's none of your business.' retorted Ruth irritably. and then sighed. 'Celeste, don't taunt me. I told you last night how I felt.'

'So you did. so you did.' Celeste's lips tightened. 'Only, seems to me you letting this man's trouble get to you.'

^:
I found him. didn't I?'

'So what that make you?'

'Nothing. I'm worried about him. that's all.'

'He your responsibility, is that it?'

'No.' Ruth's pale cheeks suffused with colour. 'I just want to know what's happening. Where is he? Is he still unconscious?'

Celeste considered her words, and then expanded. 'Seems like he's sleeping right now. Doctor given him some injection to cool his blood. Ain't nothing they can do but wait. Leastways, that's what I heard.'

Ruth expelled her breath unsteadily. 'And his arm?'

'All swollen, it was. Oozing that there pus, your daddy called it. Looked pretty ugly.'

Celeste seemed to be enjoying relating this part of her story, and Ruth wondered how she could handle food without feeling sick. Ruth felt sick, physically sick, and she looked up rather apprehensively when the door opened to admit her father.

'I thought I heard voices.' Professor Jason remarked heavily, weariness etched in every line of his face. 'Celeste, aren't those eggs almost ready? Doctor Francis doesn't have all day.'

'And I don't have more'n one pair of hands,' mumbled the black woman resentfully. They're ready. Go sit yourself down, and I'll fetch them to you.'

Professor Jason permitted his daughter a slight smile. 'Are you coming to join us. my dear?' he asked, gesturing behind him. and aware of Celeste standing impatiently with the tray in her hands, waiting for her reply. Ruth nodded and got to her feet. If she wanted information, why not from the horse's mouth? she thought wryly, ignoring the black woman's knowing stare, although the prospect of watching the two men devour the dish of eggs brought bile to the back of her throat.

Doctor Francis was a man in his early fifties. A Scotsman, he had settled in Kingstown after the last war. and his family had grown up in the islands. He and Ruth's father were good friends, their professional relationship spilling over into a more personal one. At least once a month the medical practitioner came over to the island to play chess with Professor Jason, and even his professional visits lately had become social occasions. Ruth knew he was worried about her father, knew that he saw little hope for the older man, and knew, too. that he worried about her and what she would do after her father was dead.

'Hello-there, lassie,' he greeted her now, his accent still as unmistakable as it had ever been. 'I hear you're responsible for finding our piece of human flotsam on the beach. I think your father wishes yon hadn't taken the trouble.'

Ruth looked at her father, and he quickly demurred. 'I didn't say that. John.' he protested, waving his daughter into a chair. 'I merely said the man's been nothing but trouble ever since he arrived.'

'How is he. Doctor Francis?' asked Ruth eagerly, seating herself at the table. 'Is he going to get better? He's not in any danger, is he?'

Doctor Francis pushed his horn-rimmed spectacles up his nose and surveyed her expectant face with humorous eyes. 'You sound very anxious. Ruth.' he remarked teasingly. 'Has this young man taken your fancy?'

'Don't talk nonsense. John.' Professor Jason's lips thinned, and Celeste, serving the eggs, cast the girl a mocking look. 'Naturally, Ruth is interested. Aren't we all? There's nothing very unusual about that.'

Doctor Francis pulled a wry face, if you say so. Curtis, if you say so.' He turned his attention back to Ruth, who was looking quite mortified now. and smiled encouragingly. 'Mr Howard will survive.' he assured her gently. 'I'd stake my life on it. But he owes his thanks to you for alerting your father as you did.'

Ruth flushed. 'Oh, really—'

'No. I mean it.' Doctor Francis was serious. 'Had he lain unconscious until morning. I doubt I could have saved him. The arm had become infected. If the poison had spread throughout his bloodstream . . .'

'You mean you had to open his arm again?' Ruth's lips quivered.

'It was unavoidable,' said her father shortly. 'Thank you. Celeste. You may leave us. I'll call if we need any more coffee.'

'We had to relieve the pressure,' explained Doctor Francis patiently, as Celeste unwillingly left the room. 'The cavity had to be evacuated and sterilised. There was no other way we could reduce the fever.'

'And now?'

'Now he's sleeping. The fever has greatly subsided. but as you can imagine, some poison did succeed in escaping into his bloodstream. Until his system is free of the infection, he'll continue to run a low temperature. But it's under control.'

Ruth nodded, watching dry-mouthed as Doctor Francis stopped speaking to fill his mouth with scrambled eggs. She wondered how he could eat after making such a statement, and her own stomach revolted at the fleshy food. But relief at hearing that Dominic was not going to lose either his arm. or his life, steadied her reeling senses.

'A storm in a tea-cup.' declared Professor Jason, buttering a slice of toast. 'Get your breakfast, child. You've got work to do later.'

Ruth shook her head. 'I'm not hungry.' she said, folding her hands in her lap. but her father's disapproving gaze was compelling.

'Of course you're hungry,' he insisted, holding the toast rack towards her. 'Come along, eat up. One invalid on my hands is quite enough!'