Promise Made (21 page)

‘I don't tell everyone – but we shouldn't have secrets, Frances. We need each other. Apart we are vulnerable, but together we are much stronger. I am not your enemy, and Charlie means everything to me. If I promise that Sam will leave you alone in future, would you stay here – please?'

‘Perhaps.' Frances was thoughtful. ‘Sam is my main reason for leaving. I don't trust him, Rosalind. He scares me – and I've made him angry.'

‘He won't harm you as long as you don't push him too far,' Rosalind said. ‘But he dotes on Charlie and I think he might try to stop you taking him away from here.'

‘He couldn't stop me if I chose to leave.'

‘Perhaps not – but be careful,' Rosalind said. ‘May I pop up and look at Charlie one more time before I go?'

‘Yes, of course,' Frances said. ‘I'll come with you.'

She followed Rosalind up the stairs. Charlie was sleeping when they looked in. Rosalind smiled at her as they half-closed the door behind them.

‘He seems a lot better,' Rosalind said. ‘But I should call the doctor again if he doesn't come soon. You can't be too careful, Frances.'

‘Yes, I shall,' Frances said. ‘Thank you.' She leaned forward, giving Rosalind a kiss on the cheek. ‘Even if I go away, I shall always be pleased to have you come and stay with us. And I'll come for lunch on Christmas Day, but I shan't stay for the evening.'

‘Oh good, I am so pleased, and I shall come and visit you when you get settled,' Rosalind said. ‘I'll let you get on with your work, dear. Don't forget to keep an eye on Charlie.'

‘Of course,' Frances said. ‘I was worried when he was so sick earlier, but he does seem easier now.'

She saw Rosalind to the door, and then went into the back scullery. There were three sets of bed linen that needed to be washed, and then she would have to change her own dress. She was glad that Rosalind had called on her, but she wasn't going to give in and let Sam win over the money. Why should she? He deserved to pay for what he had done to Marcus – and to her.

‘I telephoned Frances,' Alice told Daniel when he came in for his docky that morning. ‘I asked her to lunch on Sunday but she wasn't sure she would be able to make it.'

‘Is she being stand-offish or what?' Daniel asked as he went to the large sink to wash his hands under the cold tap. ‘I thought she would be pleased to come. She hasn't got much else to do after all.'

‘She says that Charlie isn't well,' Alice said. ‘Actually, she sounded quite worried. He has been sick several times this morning. He settled for a while when Rosalind Danby was there, but now he is feeling very hot and feverish. Frances has telephoned for the doctor again – Rosalind phoned the first time – but he is still out on a call.'

‘Frances fusses too much,' Daniel said. ‘Danny had a bilious attack last week. You took him to the doctor yourself and he was soon over it.'

‘Danny was just a little bit sick,' Alice said and looked anxious. ‘I've got a funny feeling about this, Dan. Do you think you should go up there? If he is really ill it might be best to call for an ambulance.'

‘Surely you don't think it is that serious?'

‘I don't know,' Alice admitted. ‘But Frances doesn't have anyone else, does she? I know she is very worried and I sense something. I can't tell you why, but I think this could be serious.'

‘All right,' Daniel said, because Alice was usually a good judge of things like this. ‘I'll go and see what I can do – but I should think it is just Frances fussing.'

‘Oh, Charlie,' Frances said, taking him into her arms because he wouldn't stop crying. ‘What is the matter, darling? Mummy can't do anything. The doctor is coming soon . . .' But she had already telephoned twice herself and been told that he was still out on his rounds.

Hearing the front doorbell, Frances lay Charlie back on the pillows and ran downstairs. His desperate crying was breaking her heart and she prayed that the doctor had arrived. She was torn between relief and disappointment as she saw her brother.

‘Daniel,' she said on a sob. ‘Did Alice tell you to come? I don't know what to do. He just won't stop crying.'

‘Has he been sick again?'

‘Not since earlier – but he is so hot and he seems odd . . .'

‘What do you mean odd?' Daniel asked, moving towards the stairs. He could hear Charlie start to scream. ‘It sounds to me as if he is in pain.' Frances followed him as he ran up the stairs. He was bending over Charlie, lifting him from his bed. ‘He is burning up! This child needs a doctor fast . . .'

‘I've been ringing the surgery all morning,' Frances said. ‘The doctor is out on an emergency call . . .' She caught another sob as Charlie screamed again. ‘What can I do?'

‘Give me a blanket to wrap him in and get your coat,' Daniel said. ‘I don't think we should wait for the doctor to come back, Frances. I'm going to take you straight through to the hospital in Cambridge.'

‘Addenbrooks?' Frances stared at him in alarm. ‘Do you think . . .?'

‘Yes, I do,' Daniel said. ‘It is a good thing Alice telephoned you herself. Were you just going to sit here and wait? Surely you could see how ill he was?'

Frances flinched at the anger in his voice. ‘But he wasn't this ill,' she defended herself. ‘Both Rosalind and I thought he was resting when we looked in earlier. And we had sent for the doctor.'

‘You ought to have asked for the doctor the first time he was sick,' Daniel said and then glanced at her white face. ‘But I'm not blaming you. Alice says that I worry too much over Danny – but children die too easily.'

‘Don't!' Frances begged. ‘Please don't even think it . . .'

Daniel looked at her over her son's head. ‘I think you had better start praying,' he said. ‘Get in the car and I'll put Charlie on your lap. We haven't much time to waste.'

The drive to the hospital was one of the worst times of her life, Frances would think afterwards. Charlie was crying all the time at first, and then, quite suddenly, his head fell back and his body went rigid as he went into a spasm, jerking and twitching like a puppet on a string.

‘Something is happening,' Frances said, glancing at her brother. ‘He is having a fit I think. How much longer to the hospital?'

‘Not long now,' Daniel said, his mouth set into a grim line. ‘Just hold him Frances, there's not much more you can do until we get him there. You could try blowing into his mouth if he stops breathing.'

‘No, he's still breathing,' she said, ‘but he has gone a funny colour. He looks strange, Dan. Oh, God! I don't want him to die. He mustn't die . . .'

‘Don't panic,' Daniel said. ‘We're almost there.' He drew the car to a halt in the front courtyard of the hospital, jumping out to open the door for Frances. ‘Take him in. I'll find somewhere to park and come in. Don't worry I'll find you wherever you are.'

Frances thanked him, rushing into the hospital through the main door, Charlie in her arms. He had gone very still now and she was terrified. She saw a nurse walking along one of the green-painted corridors and rushed up to her.

‘My baby is ill,' Frances babbled. ‘He was sick and I called the doctor but he didn't come. My brother brought me in . . .'

‘He did the right thing by the look of it,' the nurse said. ‘Come with me. This child is very ill. He needs to see a doctor immediately.'

‘Will he be all right?' Frances asked, feeling frantic.

‘I can't tell you that,' the nurse said. ‘You need to talk to the doctor, but you should never have left it this late. The boy looks as if he is in an advanced stage of the illness, whatever it is.'

‘But he wasn't really ill at first . . .' Frances said. Her throat felt constricted and she was close to tears. ‘I thought it was just a little bilious attack.'

She was almost running to keep up with the nurse, who took her through several seemingly endless corridors to a small ward. She could see that there were other children in cots and a staff of two nurses and a doctor in a long white coat.

‘Here, give him to me,' the nurse said. ‘Sit over there outside the door. We need to give this child treatment immediately, and you will be in the way.'

‘But what are you going to do? What is wrong with him?'

‘He has become dehydrated because of being constantly sick,' the nurse said. ‘We have to redress that first and then we'll see. Please leave this to us, Mrs . . .?'

‘Frances Danby,' Frances said, feeling lost and bewildered. ‘But I want to be with him. His name is Charlie – Charlie Danby.'

‘Just sit there and wait,' the nurse said and went off with the boy in her arms, calling to one of the staff as she walked. ‘Doctor . . . this child needs your immediate attention . . .'

Frances stood at the entrance to the ward, looking through the glass top of the door. She was terrified, her nerves stretched to breaking point as she watched the nurse and doctor talking. Charlie was being taken through a door at the far end of the ward. She went back inside, catching the arm of a passing nurse.

‘Where have they taken him? Where have they taken my baby?' she asked desperately. ‘I want to see Charlie . . .'

‘Calm down,' the nurse said, a sharp note in her voice. ‘They have taken him into the intensive care ward next door, because he needs immediate attention. You can't go with him, because you would be in the way. Please go and sit down and we'll contact you as soon as we know if he is responding.'

‘If . . . do you mean he might die?' Frances asked, her voice rising shrilly. ‘He can't die! He mustn't die! He's all I've got . . .'

‘There's no point in you getting hysterical,' the nurse told her coldly. ‘I haven't time to deal with hysterics at the moment. I have patients to look after. Go and wait in the corridor as you were asked and someone will come to you soon.'

Frances wanted to scream and shout, but she sensed it was useless. They had no sympathy with her, because they thought she had neglected Charlie, bringing him in at the last moment.

She sat on one of the hard seats in the corridor outside the ward. The walls were painted in a dark green glossy paint to waist height and a muddy-coloured cream from there to the ceiling. She supposed it made them easier to clean, but they looked dismal and cold, and everywhere smelled strongly of carbolic.

She seemed to have been sitting there for ages when she saw Daniel coming towards her down the corridor. She got up and ran to him, relieved that he had found her at last.

‘They took him away from me,' she said. ‘They won't let me see him. I am sure they blame me because he is so ill.'

‘Calm down, Frances,' Daniel said frowning. ‘Of course they don't blame you. Charlie has some kind of a fever. They may think you should have got help sooner – but if you called the doctor there was nothing more you could have done yourself.'

‘Perhaps I should have called for an ambulance or got a taxi before you came . . .?' Frances put a hand to her face and sighed. She was on edge, her nerves stretched to breaking point because she was so worried. ‘I didn't know what to do, Dan. At first I didn't think he was very ill, just had a little tummy upset, and then Rosalind thought we should phone for the doctor but he was out. Before she went home he was sleeping. We both thought he was better. I looked in later and he was whimpering so I picked him up and gave him a cuddle, and then I rang for the doctor again. Charlie was sick again soon after, and I phoned again, but they said the doctor was still out on his rounds. I was wondering what to do when Alice called me, and then you came. I didn't neglect him, Dan. I swear I didn't.'

‘No, of course not,' he said and put an arm about her waist. ‘Usually you fuss too much over little things, but this time he seems really ill. Just sit down for a moment and I'll go and talk to the nurses, and find out what is happening.'

Frances sat down. She was a little calmer now that her brother was here, but she still felt uneasy. It was bad enough having her child so ill, but it made things even worse to see condemnation in the eyes of the nurses. She sensed that they thought she had neglected her child, but it wasn't true. She loved Charlie so much. Without him her life would have little meaning. She couldn't bear even to think about it.

Dan had been gone a long time. Frances stood up and walked to the door of the ward. She couldn't see her brother and she was tempted to go back into the ward to find him, but then a door opened a little further down the corridor and he came out and began to walk towards her. She got up and went to meet him, her heart racing.

‘How is he? What is happening?'

Daniel put out a hand to touch her arm. ‘They've put him on a drip of some kind, Frances, but they are very worried about him. They seem to think it may be some kind of a brain fever . . .'

‘What do you mean?' Frances felt a thrill of horror. ‘I don't know what that means.'

‘I'm not sure that they do at the moment,' Daniel said. ‘They are refusing to put a name to his condition; they just say he is very ill and will need to stay here at least overnight and perhaps for a few days.'

‘Stay here?' Frances felt an icy chill trickle down her spine. ‘But I can't leave him here. He's only a baby. He will want his mummy.' She felt close to panic. What was happening to her child? ‘I don't understand . . .'

‘The doctor is coming to talk to you in a few minutes. We'll sit and wait for him, Frances. He won't be long.'

‘I don't feel like waiting,' Frances said. ‘I want to see Charlie . . .' Daniel held her arm, preventing her from going into the ward. ‘I need to see him, Dan. I can't leave him here alone.'