Page 72 of The Quiet Wife
Jemie sent for Doctor Emslie, and it seemed to take an age for him to come. He studied the patient and Frances waited for him to say those magic, reassuring words, that all would be well. That they just needed to wait for the fever to recede. To say that she would be right as ninepence and be running around and causing mischief within a day or two.
But he didn’t.
He examined her thoroughly, making her moan, but not waking her up. He listened to her chest, tapped on her back, looked into her eyes…
He turned to Frances. “Mrs Leyland, I’m afraid your daughter is gravely ill.”
No, no, no, no…
“I fear that the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”
She felt Jemie move closer to her and slide an arm about her waist. She was grateful for it, otherwise she may have fallen to the ground. Her legs were shaking so badly, and her entire body felt weak.
“What can we do? What can I do?”
“Exactly what you have been doing.”
“But there must be something else we can give her?” Lizzie spoke up, her voice thick with tears. “Something that will make her well?”
“You have done all you can. All we can do now is wait and see if her body can shake off the fever.”
Frances leaned into Jemie, who stood firm beside her and tightened his grip.
“I will sit with her.” Frances nodded as though speaking to herself.
“We will take turns,” Lizzie said. “You should eat.”
“I will sit with her,” was all Frances could say.
Anna saw the doctor out, and Frances pulled up a large chair beside Elinor’s bed. She reached out and stroked a lock of her hair.
“Don’t you worry about a thing,” she whispered to Elinor. “All will be well, you’ll see. We are all here, and we all love you.”
She heard Lizzie sob and glanced over to see Jemie lead her out of the room.
Frances sat with her baby and sang.
***
Jemie wrapped his arms around his mother, and she held him tightly.
“This is terrible,” he exhaled as he pulled away. His mother nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “She should send word to her husband.”
Lizzie got up, dashing the tears from her cheeks with her fingers. “I’ll do it,” she offered. “I’ll tell him he needs to get himself home forthwith.”
“Be gentle, darling,” his mother advised, moving to stand before Lizzie.
“Gentle?” Lizzie said with an expression of tempered emotion. “I shan’t be gentle. I shall tell him the truth, given he couldn’t be bothered to stay and care for his children. I shall tell him that his youngest daughter may not live to see the morning. So, if he would like to see her one last time, he needs to get himself into a carriage and come home.Now.” Her voice was rising until it broke on a sob.
“I know, love. I know,” his mother took Lizzie into her arms.
“What else should I say?” she asked, swiping at the tears that fell. “What am I supposed to say to the man who, upon hearing three of his children had scarlet fever, went to work rather than be with them? Rather than support his wife in tending to them?”
Jemie was forced to acknowledge she had a point and one he’d pondered himself several times without landing on a satisfactory answer.
“Listen to me. Frederick Leyland is not a good man,” his mother said to Lizzie, startling Jemie with her bluntness. He could see that feeling mirrored in Lizzie’s eyes. “If you are cold and disrespectful to him, who do you think will bear the brunt of your words? You, or your sister?”
“Frances,” she whispered.
