Journey's End (3 page)

‘What’s all this then?’ she demanded, indignantly folding her arms. ‘You’ve been washing up again, haven’t yer? For heaven’s sakes, can you never do as you’re told
and take it easy? What’s more, I’d be obliged if you would stop doing my work. One fine day I’ll come through that door and there you’ll be, waiting with my pay packet and a “cheerio, how’s yer father but I don’t need yer any more”. Then what will I do, eh? Tell me that if yer please!’

Lucy tutted impatiently. ‘Don’t talk so much nonsense, woman.’ Clambering out of her chair, she confronted the
little person with a sense of outrage. ‘Anyway, who’s in charge round here, you tell me that.’

As the bantering continued, Mary stood by the door, quietly amused. There was no harm in these fiery exchanges, she knew that. Her mother valued Elsie as part of the family. And as for the little woman herself, she was hardworking, funny and lovable, and totally devoted to Lucy; but when she had a bee
in her bonnet she could be a real terrier.

‘Out with it,’ Elsie demanded grimly. ‘What else have yer been up to? Sweeping the yard, taking down the curtains – what?’

With a measure of dignity, Lucy stood her ground. ‘Just listen to yourself. You above all people should know I’m past doing those kind of things. Anyway, what if I
had
done everything you claim? It’s my right. It’s my house, isn’t
it?’

Exasperated, Elsie waggled her fat little head from side to side, which in turn wobbled the fat little shoulders. ‘It’s no use yer arguing with me,’ she retorted. ‘You had strict orders from the doctor … “gentle exercise and the occasional walk, as long as it’s not too far”, isn’t that what the man said?’

Lucy glared at her. ‘Good God, you make me sound like some poor old dog that needs
to be put down!’

‘Dearie, dearie me!’ Elsie had a way of making you feel guilty even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. ‘If yer don’t mind me saying, it’s
you
that’s talking nonsense now. My only concern is that you keep strong and healthy. I don’t want to see you standing at the sink to wash the dishes, or turning the mattress, like you did the other day. And if I hadn’t arrived in time
when you were struggling to get the vacuum cleaner out of the cupboard under the stairs, like as not you’d have broke a limb. And only yesterday I caught you cleaning out the pantry. God give me strength, you’re always meddling in places where you’ve no right to be. Cleaning, fetching and carrying is what
I’m
here for.’

When again she shook her head, her chubby little chops shivered with irritation.
‘It’s why yer pay me, for goodness’ sake!’

They both looked up as Mary stepped forward from the doorway. ‘I’ll make us a fresh pot of tea, shall I?’ she suggested tactfully. ‘That’s if nobody has any objections?’ Rona, Elsie’s daughter, worked alongside Mary in her flower-shop in Leighton Buzzard, and the two young women were fast friends. She’d be sure to report the latest exchange to her!

Grateful for the intervention, Lucy gave a warm smile. ‘Thank you, dear, that would be nice.’

But Elsie’s feathers were still ruffled. ‘I’ll have two sugars in mine,’ she snapped, ‘and just a whisper of milk, if yer please. There’s some Garibaldi biscuits in that tin. We’re keeping the homemade ones for Doctor Nolan.’ With that she took off her coat and hat and hung them up. ‘Meanwhile, I’d best
make a start on cleaning the winders … before somebody we all know takes a mind to do it herself!’ With that she threw Lucy a withering glance and departed.

Lucy was left chuckling. ‘Anybody would think I interfered with her daily routine.’

Mary turned with a wry little smile. ‘You do.’

‘Well, maybe I do, but I’m frightened that if I stop doing things, I might seize up altogether. Don’t you
know how hard it is for me to be still?’

‘I think I know that more than anybody. Don’t forget, I’m the one who has to live with you.’

‘Do you think I should apologise to Elsie? She’s such a treasure.’

‘It wouldn’t do any good if you did.’

‘Why not?’ Lucy had not expected an answer like that.

Coming to the table, Mary set the tray down. ‘Because the pair of you will only be going at it hammer
and tongs again tomorrow.’

Taken aback, Lucy stared up at Mary open-mouthed. ‘Are we really that bad?’

‘Worse!’

When the laughter carried outside to the men, they stopped work to look towards the kitchen. ‘Something’s tickled their funny-bones,’ Ben remarked with a grin.

‘Sounds like it,’ Adam agreed; the merry laughter was infectious.

‘That should do it.’ Laying down the spanner, Ben asked
Adam to start the car, and when it spluttered into life and seemed to run smoother than before, the older man gave a sigh of relief. ‘Don’t know how to thank you,’ he said, and Ben told him he was only too pleased to have been able to help.

‘I’d best get cleaned up, and take Mary to approve my new tractor.’ Ben smiled at the prospect. ‘After that, we’ve got the whole day to please ourselves what
we do.’

Adam saw the gleam in Ben’s eye and his heart warmed. ‘You really love her, don’t you?’

Ben’s answer was instant and sincere. ‘Like I’ve never loved anyone in my life,’ he said. ‘I can’t recall what my life was like before she came along, and now I can’t imagine a day without her.’

Suddenly, Mary was making her way towards them. Upstairs, hanging out of the window with her cloth, Elsie
was shouting down to her, ‘What were you two laughing about, eh?’

‘It’s Mum. You know what she’s like.’ Mary was still chuckling. ‘She was saying how she’d best teach you your place, because you’re getting too big for your boots.’

‘Huh! It’s the other way round, more like!’

When, a moment later, Elsie saw the doctor getting out of his car, she dropped her cloth into the bucket, ran to the landing
and called down to Lucy, who quickly made her way upstairs, brushed her hair and sat nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting to greet him.

Though deep down she knew it was unfair, Lucy harboured a certain distrust of doctors. It had started when Barney fell ill and they could do nothing to help him. To Lucy’s mind, doctors were all the same – authoritative and full of good advice, but as yet
they had not managed to instil any degree of confidence in her. There was one exception and that was Dr Raymond Lucas, from her old home outside Liverpool. He had been a true and trusted friend, and even now Lucy valued his letters and friendship.

Interrupting her thoughts, the knock sounded on the door for the second time. ‘Come in.’ Like a rebellious child, Lucy remained seated.

The door inched
open and a smiling face peeped in at her; with his cheeky grin and that ridiculous cap of thick brown hair, the doctor looked far younger than his early thirties. ‘Am I all right to come in?’ he asked gingerly. ‘Or am I likely to get my head chopped off at dawn?’ He knew Lucy well by now, and was aware that his visits were unpopular.

Lucy laughed and the atmosphere eased. ‘I’m not that much of
an ogre, am I?’ she asked, shame-facedly.

‘There are those who might argue the point.’ Straightening his shoulders, he pushed open the door and sauntered in.

Lucy asked him pointedly, ‘You’re not about to put me through the grinder, are you?’

He took a deep breath. ‘I’ll do whatever’s necessary to satisfy myself that you haven’t been overdoing it.’ He peeked at her with suspicion. ‘And have
you?’

‘What?’

‘Been overdoing it?’

‘I don’t think so.’ Lucy hoped he would leave before coming into contact with Elsie, who was certain to have her say on the matter.

‘Mmm.’ Slowly nodding his head, he made that peculiar sound that some doctors make when they’re not quite sure what to say. ‘Mmm … ah.’

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’

‘I don’t know what to think.’ He ventured forward. ‘And
if I don’t believe you, it’s no one’s fault but your own.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean, I need you to be honest, but sometimes you tell me one thing and do another. How am I supposed to know if you’re following my instructions when you won’t tell me the truth?’

‘Huh!’ Lucy couldn’t help but like him. ‘So now I’m a liar, am I?’

Fearing he might have got on the wrong side of her, he
suggested meekly, ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, that is not what I meant at all. Perhaps we should forget the conversation so far and start again, what do you think?’

Lucy smiled her sweetest. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea.’

With a twinkle in his eye, he made the smallest bow and to Lucy’s amusement, greeted her with a bright, ‘Good morning, Mrs Davidson.’

‘Good morning, Doctor Nolan.’ Bright as a
button, Lucy’s quick smile betrayed her enjoyment. ‘How very nice to see you,’ she lied beautifully.

Placing the big black bag on the bedside table, Dr Nolan opened it and took out his stethoscope. ‘And how are you today?’

‘I’m fine, thank you, Doctor.’ Unbuttoning the top of her blouse, Lucy prepared herself for the shock of the cold stethoscope against her skin.

‘Have you anything to report?’
he asked gently.

‘No, nothing.’ Sensing the game was over she replied in serious tone, ‘Everything is just the same as it was the last time you were here.’ She was determined not to reveal how her arm still hurt like the devil after trying to shift that heavy cleaner out of the cupboard, for which Elsie had rightfully given her a scolding.

‘So, no aches or pains then?’ He proceeded to examine
her, discreetly ignoring Lucy’s visible shudder as the cold receptacle pressed against the flat of her chest.

Lucy shook her head. ‘No more than usual,’ she answered. ‘There are times when my joints feel as though they’ve locked together, and other times when I feel I can carry the world.’

‘No change there then?’ he said, concentrating now on the job in hand of checking her blood pressure.

‘Not really, no.’ She laughed out loud. ‘I was flattered this morning when Elsie accused me of being ambitious enough to take down curtains, and clean all the windows.’ She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Those days are long gone, more’s the pity.’

Lucy remembered the time when she could throw a pitchfork of hay on top of a wagon, or carry an injured lamb on her shoulders, but that was in another
life. If she could bring it all back, she would. But it was gone, all but in her sorry heart.

A few moments later, after a thorough examination, the doctor put away his instruments and closed the bag. ‘It seems you’re no better and no worse, so you must be following my instructions after all.’

Lucy smiled triumphantly. ‘Isn’t that what I told you, Doctor?’

‘So it is,’ he replied. ‘So it is
– but you need to remember you’re not the young woman you once were and your joints aren’t quite so flexible. I’m not saying you can’t do certain things – of course you can – but you must take care not to aggravate your condition. And that includes getting all hot and bothered about things.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Good.’ He wrote out a prescription. ‘Your blood pressure is slightly up. Take one of these
each morning, and an hour’s rest in the afternoon. Right?’

‘Whatever you say. You’re the doctor.’

‘I’ll call again in a few days to check your blood pressure, just to be sure.’

Glad that the examination was over, Lucy relaxed. ‘Are you ready for tea and biscuits?’

‘Need you ask?’ It had become a ritual; a bit of a banter, then the examination, before tea and biscuits. He had come to look forward
to it. ‘That’s the main reason I come to visit,’ the young man teased. He picked up his black bag. ‘A few quiet moments in that delightful kitchen of yours sets me up for the day.’

Inching herself off the bed, Lucy slipped her shoes on. ‘You haven’t forgotten how I like mine, have you?’

He shook his head. ‘Strong, with a little milk and two sugars.’

‘That’s it.’ She waved him away with a gesture.
‘Off you go then. You make your way down, and I’ll follow on.’

By the time Lucy arrived in the kitchen, the doctor was pouring out two cups of tea and had got out a plate of Elsie’s home-baked shortbread. ‘I can’t stay long,’ he told Lucy. ‘I must check on Maggie Craig; she’s not too far away from giving birth.’

Lucy tut-tutted. ‘That’s her eighth in as many years. If you ask me, it’s not Maggie
as wants checking on, it’s her old man. Quickest way to help Maggie and cut your work down into the bargain, is to chop it off for him. That’ll give everyone a rest, won’t it?’

The doctor laughed. ‘It’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?’

Lucy shrugged. ‘He’s a selfish bugger, though. If it was
him
having the babies, he wouldn’t be so quick to make them.’

She thought of her dead son, little Jamie,
drowned these past twenty years or more, and her heart was sore. ‘Mind you,’ she went on in a softer voice, ‘there is nothing more magical than holding a child in your arms.’

The doctor looked up to see the sadness in her eyes; he had seen it before and had been curious. Not for the first time, he sensed there was something in Lucy’s past that she was unable to let go. He might have asked, but
the young man’s instinct told him Lucy would not thank him for it. So he waited until the sadness had passed, and she was smiling at him, as though everything was all right in her world.

‘I expect you have a busy day ahead of you, Doctor?’

‘I have, yes.’ Finishing his tea, he munched the last of his biscuit, and when he thought Lucy wasn’t looking, he tucked one into his jacket pocket. ‘I really
must get on now,’ he excused himself. ‘Remember what I said, won’t you?’

Lucy nodded. ‘I will, yes. Thank you, Doctor, and mind you don’t crush that biscuit to crumbs in your pocket. Here.’ Taking a napkin from the drawer she gave it to him with a knowing little smile. ‘Best wrap it up in that, eh?’

Looking like a little boy caught with his hand in the sweetie jar, Dr Nolan did as he was told,
and went sheepishly on his way.

Through the window Lucy watched him leave and when he was gone her gaze fell on Mary, who was walking with Ben towards the house.

‘We’re away now, Mother.’ Mary arrived to kiss Lucy cheerio. ‘Ben’s just washing the oil from his hands, then we’re off to organise the tractor.’