Page 59 of Zenith
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Irememberedthis hospital quite clearly.
The blue linoleum floor, the powder blue walls, the scent of stale disinfectant, and the chattering of doctors and nurses as they rushed up and down the halls. The dull beeping of medical equipment echoed from the doorway opposite as I leaned against the wall, watching the comings and goings of the little self-serving world that was the York General Hospital.
I’d lain here for a week after I’d been attacked by Bertha and had come to know the little idiosyncrasies of the place. Now after the same amount of time spent at Edward’s bedside after the fire, I’d come to know a different side of the hospital altogether.
We’d all been treated for smoke inhalation, and to the doctor’s chagrin, I’d stubbornly sat at Edward’s bedside, hooked up to oxygen of my own.
The following morning, people from the village had begun to show up at the hospital with flowers and gifts, bringing us all changes of clothing and offering to take in anyone who needed a place to stay. Everyone was cared for in the wake of the fire, but I still refused to leave Edward’s side. The next day, he was to be moved to a hospital in London where his burns could be treated by specialists, but for now, we lingered in the small facility in York under the watchful eye of our old friend Dr. Carter.
Before we left, Alice came to visit, though she was reluctant to look upon Edward in bed, having only ever seen him as the powerful master of Thornfield. She looked well, though she was troubled over her immediate future and that of mine it seemed.
“You look tired, Jane,” she said as we sought refuge in the hall. “Have you gone outside for some fresh air?”
I shook my head. “No. I hardly know where to go. I fear I’d walk outside, stare at the world, turn around, and come right back.”
“Where would you like to go?” she asked, knowing I hadn’t left the hospital, let alone slept or eaten. “The cafe perhaps? Or a turn around the village? We can go together.”
We were lingering in the hallway, and my gaze flickered back to the door to Edward’s room. There was only one place I wanted to see, and I hardly understood it myself.
“Thornfield,” I said. “Take me to Thornfield.”
She hesitated, a worried look appearing on her face “Are you sure?”
“I know what I will find, Alice,” I said, this time, stepping into the doorway so I could see Edward, who still lay prone in his bed. “But I need to see it with my own eyes. I need to close the final chapter of Thornfield once and for all.”
“It’s a long trip,” she said, attempting to dissuade me. “Are you sure you want to be away for that long?”
I nodded. “Edward will understand.”
That was how I found myself in a hire car with Alice behind the wheel, driving us through the city and out across the moors.
On the way, I phoned Mr. Briggs and asked for his assistance in setting up some sort of fund to assist the villagers who’d taken the clothes off their backs to help the staff of Thornfield. It was my first good deed with the money I’d inherited, and I was sure it would be far from the last.
* * *
Two days had passedsince the fire engulfed the hotel, and as I stood on the gravel driveway, my heart stopped beating.
A wasteland was before me, the foundations and brickwork a crumbling ruin. The grand facade, the oak staircases, the art and tapestries, the gilded antique furniture, the dining room and kitchens, the library with Edward’s mother’s books…it was nothing but a pile of charred ash. Hundreds of years of irreplaceable history was gone in the space of a few hours.
Thornfield was completely destroyed. Nothing could be salvaged from the wreckage other than a handful of bricks from the Tudor wing. The roses were gone, eaten away by the flames, the garden singed and burned in places, but the moor stood green, surrounding the blackened earth I now stood upon.
It was cold comfort.
Alice stood beside me, shivering despite the sun warming our backs.
“It’s a terrible business,” she said, her voice loud in the silence. “I’ll never forget the sight of it lit up by the flames.”
My gaze flickered to the part of the driveway where Bertha had lain after she jumped, and I felt my stomach roll.
“I wish things had gone differently,” she went on. “I wish Rocky had put Bertha into a proper facility that could have cared for her. Perhaps she may have even become better over time. Not healed, for I think she was too far gone, but at least better. Happier.”
“I’m not sure it would have mattered,” I replied. “I fear this would have been our end, no matter what we could have done to avoid it. Destruction would have been served in another way.”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “I shall miss it, though. It was my home for five years.” She turned her back on the house and sighed. “I don’t know where to go, Jane.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning away from the charred rubble. “I shall see that you are all looked after. You’re my family, after all.”
