Barbara Taylor Bradford - Master of His Fate

Rossi looked across at him and explained gently, ‘Because we’re waiting for Father, and when he gets home we can sit down and have supper together.’

‘Will Mumma get up and come down?’ Eddie asked wistfully.

‘I don’t think so, lovey. It’s better she rests.’

Eddie jumped off the chair, and said, with sudden determination, ‘I’m going upstairs to see her. I want to give her a kiss to make her feel better.’

Rossi put the knives and forks she was holding down on the table, walked across to the pantry and went inside. ‘Just this once I’ll make an exception. Please bring me one of those plates, Eddie, and I’ll give you a sausage roll to keep you going.’

Running over to the oak table, Eddie took a plate to Rossi in the pantry, a beaming smile on his face. His sister placed the roll on it, then admonished, ‘Don’t gulp it down … eat it slowly.’

‘I will.’

‘And what else do you say?’ Rossi stared at her young brother.

‘Thank you,’ Eddie replied, and carried his plate to the end of the table, far away from where Rossi was setting the places for supper.

At this moment James came back into the room, carrying the cup. ‘Mum’s fallen asleep at last. The rest will do her good.’ He took the cup to the sink, and turned to his sister. ‘I see you gave in to Eddie’s nagging. But he probably is hungry, Rossi. It’s getting late.’

‘I know, but he has to learn to be patient.’

‘I don’t want to be a patient,’ Eddie cried. ‘Then I’d be in hospital.’

‘Patient also means being able to wait for something, without making a big fuss,’ James explained, and went to sit next to the nine-year-old. ‘I could eat one of those myself, but I’ll wait till Dad gets home.’

Eddie adored his older brother, and he looked up at him and smiled, offered him the sausage roll. ‘Have a bite. I don’t mind sharing it with you, Jimmy.’

Shaking his head, James put his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders. ‘Our grandmother brought us a cottage pie and chicken soup and, as soon as Dad arrives home, we’ll tuck into it.’

Rossi exclaimed, ‘Perhaps I’d better put the pie in the oven now, Jimmy, and the chicken soup in a pan on top of the range. What do you think?’

‘That’s a good idea. Shall I help you?’

‘I’ll help, too,’ Eddie volunteered, and took a bite of the sausage roll.

‘I can manage,’ their sister answered, finally finishing the last setting. Suddenly she began to laugh as she walked back to the pantry. ‘You and Grandma brought enough food to feed Nelson’s navy. There’s also a steak and kidney pie in here, and a hunk of boiled ham. Oh, and an apple pie. Not to mention the sausage rolls.’

James laughed with her. ‘Grans kept adding things once Grandpapa had insisted we come here in a hansom.’

‘I’ve never been in one,’ Eddie said, the wistful tone echoing yet again.

‘You will one day,’ James murmured.

‘When? I want to know when!’

‘Never if you don’t stop nagging!’ Rossi exclaimed.

James said to his sister, ‘How was school today?’

‘It went well. I taught some of the younger children, as I do these days, and then I had an hour with the sewing teacher. I love sewing and designing things. As you know, I won’t be going back after this month. I’ll be working with Mum, helping her to fill her orders for the blouses and shawls.’

The three of them jumped and looked startled at the sound of knocking on the door. It was James who immediately stood up, motioned the others to remain where they were.

The knocking started again as he reached the front door. ‘What do you want? Who is it?’ he asked, having been instructed time and again never to let anyone into the house if they were alone.

‘It’s me, James. Grandpapa. When your grandmother arrived back, she said your mother needed rest and she sent me to see if the three of you are all right.’

James turned the key and opened the door to let his grandfather in. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ James explained to Philip, ‘Dad has drilled it into the three of us not to open the door unless we know who’s there.’

‘Very wise,’ Philip answered, and he and James walked into the kitchen, where Philip was immediately assaulted by Eddie and Rossi, who threw themselves at him, hugging him.

When he finally became disentangled, he turned to James. ‘Shall I go upstairs and look in on your mother? Or is she resting?’

‘Perhaps she’s still asleep,’ James answered, ‘I’ll creep up and take a look.’

Philip nodded, and allowed himself to be pulled further into the kitchen. Having been taught to be polite, Rossi asked, ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Grandpapa?’

He shook his head, and then looked towards the door as he heard the key in the lock turning. ‘I think your father has arrived.’

Matthew stared at his father, alarm rushing through him. Why was he here? Had Maude become worse?

As if reading his son’s mind, Philip said, ‘I just dropped in to see how Maude is doing, Matt. Although when she got home, your mother told me it was definitely only a chill.’

‘And what do you think, Dad?’

‘I haven’t seen her yet—’

James interjected, ‘I was just upstairs, Father, and she’s sleeping.’

Relaxing, Matthew walked into the kitchen and opened his arms as his two younger children rushed towards him across the floor. He kissed them both, and then straightened. Turning to James, he asked, ‘Has your mother taken the raspberry vinegar?’

‘Yes, I sat there while she sipped it and fell asleep. It must have knock-out drops in it, or something like that.’

He’s far too bright for his own good, Philip thought, but said, ‘Don’t be silly, James. It’s the cherry juice your grandmother puts in it that makes a person sleepy and soothes a sore throat.’

Matthew walked towards the door, turned to look back at his father. ‘Will you have supper with us?’

‘I’ll stay a bit longer, go up and see Maude after you, but I can’t linger. I told your mother I would have dinner with her tonight. We don’t often get a chance to do that.’

Matthew nodded, hurried out, flew up the stairs two at a time, and then paused on the landing, took a deep breath and calmed himself before pushing open the bedroom door. He went in as quietly as possible, then realized Maude was awake.

‘Matt,’ she whispered hoarsely when he sat down next to the bed, and reached out her hand to him.

He took hold of it, leaned closer, his eyes searching her face. She was extremely pale and her forehead was damp. When he tried to kiss her, she moved her head. ‘I don’t want you to catch cold.’

Smiling at her, he ignored her words and kissed her cheek anyway.

‘It seems very hot in here, Maude.’

‘I am a bit warm.’ she answered.

He jumped up and went to the window. Although it was six thirty, it was still light outside. He opened the top and bottom of the sash window, shaking his head as he did so. Like every Victorian, he suffered from paranoia about his home not having sufficient oxygen. ‘I don’t understand why this is closed,’ he muttered. ‘We’re all fully aware we must have oxygen circulating through every room. The whole country knows it.’

He walked back to the bed, continuing, ‘We mustn’t let carbonic acid build up because we don’t have proper ventilation.’

Sitting down, he took her hand again and stared at Maude. ‘Breathe in, love, you need fresh air. It’ll help you get better.’

‘It was becoming stifling in here, but I just didn’t have the strength to get out of bed to open the window,’ she murmured.

‘What else can I do to make you more comfortable? Are you thirsty? Do you want a glass of water? Or perhaps some chicken soup? Are you hungry?’