Miss Mary Martha Crawford (41 page)

situation to be in, the house flooding with water, and at the rate it was going across that hall floor it could' be up to this landing in no time, and here he was almost helpless, with an ill woman on his hands, a small maid, and a very tired Martha Mary. And she was tired; the

strain was showing more and more on her face every day. If she was

allowed to decline at the present rate he had no doubt but that the

aunt would survive her.

What a sequence of events he had experienced in this house during the last few days. And now to end up in a flood. Well, it was a good job there were attics up above, although from what he remembered of them when he attended on Dilly they were of no height, and the small windows were set on the floor. Still, let's hope they wouldn't be their last resort. It seemed an oversight that they hadn't built attics over each of the wings they had stuck on this old structure.

The door opened, and Martha and Peg entered both carrying laden trays, and when they set them down on the table Peg turned towards the doctor and on a shaky laugh said, "Well, that lot should see us through the flood, doctor, eh? Eeh! it's like Noah's Ark."

"You're right, Peg, we'll likely find ourselves afloat shortly." He smiled at her but she didn't smile back.

"D'you think it'll get this far up then, doctor?"

"No, no; I was merely joking. But mind, you're going to have some mess to clear up once the water goes down."

"Oh no, I won't, doctor. Oh no, I won't, 'cos I've told Miss

Martha Mary here I'm not stayin'. No, thank you. I'm gona' long of

her, I am. "

"Light the lamp, Peg, it's getting quite dark." Martha turned to Harry and said, "I'll get your clothes."

When Martha had again left the room Harry asked, "Do you mean to go, Peg?"

"Aye, I do, doctor; course, I do... I'm not stayin' on here without her."

"Good for you. Peg."

They smiled at each other.

A few minutes later when Martha brought his suit and small clothes all neatly pressed she laid them on the blanket box at the foot of the bed, saying, "I don't really think there is any necessity for you to dress tonight, why not wait until the morning?"

"I'd rather...."

"As you wish.... Come along, Peg.* He waited until the door had closed on them, then he limped to the window and peered downwards through the slanting rain. He stared for a full minute at the first sight that

looked like a great expanse of sea, then muttered, " Good God! " for now he could just see the top of the door of the first outhouse that bordered the yard; by a rough calculation that would mean that the

water was about up to the second stair already.

Turning, he limped down the room and in fumbling haste got into his

clothes, but by the time he had donned his coat he found it necessary to lean back against the bedpost and rest while he took stock of

himself. He was as weak as a kitten; he had never felt like this in

his life before. Blast young Bailey! By God, he'd make him pay for

this if it was the last thing he did. Well, not so much this but for Fred. Oh yes, he'd make him pay for Fred. He had tried not to think

of Fred and how he had died, for knowing Nick Bailey he couldn't

imagine that the swine would let the animal off with a mere blow on the head. But about this water. He pulled himself upright again, pressed his finger and thumb tightly against each eyeball; then rising, he went slowly

towards the door and on to the landing. With one hand supporting

himself against the wall, he hobbled towards the stairs and looked down almost in horror. There was water everywhere, but unlike the

turbulence outside its rising was quiet, soft, sinister. As he watched a tread disappear under the grey flow he rapidly counted the rest of the stairs. There were only eight to the landing, and they were

shallow steps.

He turned hastily now and shouted, "Martha! Martha!"

A door opened at the far end of the landing and she came running.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

When she reached his side he pointed down the stairs, saying, "It's rising too quickly to be healthy; I think it would be wise to get up above."

"Into the attics?"

"Well, look at it."

She looked, and she gave a slight shudder but made no comment.

He took her arm as much for support as anything and turned her about, saying, "We'll be safe enough up above."

"But... but if it reaches here it'll mean the whole valley is

flooded.

They said it had been flooded once before but I didn't believe them.

"

She turned her head over her shoulder and looked towards the stairs

again.

"Come on, there's no time to waste." Again his tone was abrupt, no friendliness in it.

"You'd better get Miss Sophie up and dress her.

And get Peg to take some blankets and covers upstairs, we may need

them. "

She made no comment now, but hurried from him, and his voice followed her, saying, "And candles. Is there a lamp up there?"

She turned at Sophie's door, saying, "Yes."

"And oil? You'd better see if it's full... in any case we can take them from here."

She drew in a short breath as she went into Sophie's room. She wished he wouldn't talk like that, so domineering; he seemed to be two

distinct people. It always seemed that his manner changed for the

worse when he was worried or annoyed, and now he was likely very

worried, as she was, and

she was tired. Oh, she was so tired. She couldn't remember the last

time she'd had a full night's sleep; while her body ached for sleep her mind wouldn't allow it.

And when the waters went down, what then? The place would be a

shambles and she would not only have to see to its cleaning, but help dean it. She didn't want to do any more work, not of any kind, she

wanted to lay her body down and let it rest . together with her mind.

Oh, she wanted to put her mind to rest.

"Why are you dressing me, Martha Mary?"

"We have to go up to the attics, dear; the river has overflowed its banks."

"I know; I saw the water flooding the meadow this morning."

"But it ... it has reached the ground floor, dear. Come along now, put your arms into your blouse."

"But why need I be dressed, Martha Mary, to go up in the attics? I have never been dressed for a long time. Now if I intended to make a journey of course then I'd be dressed.... Are we going on a journey, Martha Mary?"

"No, Aunt Sophie, no, we're not going on a journey, just up into the attics."

"It is very strange to be dressed to go into the attics."

"There now, you look very nice. I'll get your coat, it may be a little chilly up there."

She went to the wardrobe and took down a coat that had hung there for years undisturbed, except every spring when the wardrobes were washed down inside and hung with camphor; and as she took it across the room she noticed that it was even more moth-eaten than when she had handled it last. No one had thought of throwing the coat away although Sophie had never worn it since she had taken it off when she first came into the house.

As Martha helped her into the voluptuous old-fashioned garment, Sophie persisted, "But why must I wear my coat if I'm not going on a journey, Martha Mary?"

"I've told you, we are going up into the attics, Aunt Sophie, just in case the water rises and ... and there's no

heat up there, and you know you never keep your shawl about your

shoulders, so you'll be warm in your coat. "

"Strange. Strange."

"What is strange, Aunt Sophie?"

"Many things these past few days, many things, Martha Mary. Are you afraid of the water rising?"

"No, no, of course not." She lied glibly.

"Now, there, we're ready, come along. You take my arm as if we're going for a walk."

Sophie did as she was bid, but she had taken only two steps when she stopped and laughed.

"What is it. Aunt Sophie?"

"It's just that you are very funny, Martha Mary, you keep reassuring me yet you are more afraid of the water than I am. I'm not afraid, do you know that? I'm not a bit afraid of the water rising. I wouldn't be

afraid because I've often wanted it to come right up the stairs. Do

you know that? Right up the stairs, and flood my room and take me

sailing away on a great wave."

"Don't talk like that, Aunt Sophie. Come along now, come along."

Martha's voice and manner were brisk and she pressed Sophie forward

along the landing and towards the attic stairs to where Harry was

standing, as if waiting for them.

"Why, hello, doctor." Sophie greeted him as if they were meeting on the street.

"It's such a long time since I saw you. Are you going on a journey too?"

"Yes, just a short one, up into the attics. That's it, up you go."

And she went up and laughed quite gaily as Martha steadied her from

behind.

When they all reached the top of the stairs it was to see Peg standing surrounded by blankets and kitchen utensils and trays.

"Which room will I put them in, Miss Martha Mary?" she asked.

"Into the schoolroom. Aunt Sophie will go into Dilly's room."

"No, I think it's better that we all stay together."

"But Aunt Sophie may--' Martha hesitated on her whispered protest, and Harry, nodding at her quickly, said, " Yes, yes, I know what attention Aunt Sophie may need, none better, but no one of us is likely to

collapse because of it. Now do as I say, choose a room that will take us all. Where's the schoolroom? " He turned to Peg, and she pointed towards a door, and he lifted a lamp from a narrow shelf attached to the wall and, opening the door, went in. There were two windows set

some distance apart on one wall and both began at floor level and

reached no higher than his' waist He bent his aching back low and

peered out of the nearer window, then turning to where Martha was now placing Sophie on to a chair, he said, " Where do they face, the windows? "

"The front of the house."

"Where arc you going?"

Martha stopped on her way to the door.

"To bring the mattress from Dilly's bed." She now glanced back towards Sophie, and he nodded at her and said, "Yes, yes, that's an idea. I'll come and help you."

"No, no, stay there, Peg will help. It's only a single feather tick and not heavy."

He made no protest for at the moment he was feeling in no condition, he told himself, to lift a single feather, let alone help with a tick full of them. It was an hour later and Sophie was lying down on the

mattress. They'd all had a cup of tea, lukewarm, but nevertheless

welcomed, but not one of them had eaten anything. Martha and Peg were sitting side by side at the rickety and stained nursery table, but

Harry was sitting on blankets which were placed on the floor between the two windows, his back supported by the wall. He said he felt more comfortable this way, and he did, for his whole body was aching,

particularly his hip bone where a boot had apparently found its target a number of times.

Because of the fear he could see in Peg's pinched face he started a

jocular conversation with her, saying, "You know something, Peg? In years to come when you have a family round you I can hear you spinning them the yarn, saying,

"Up in that attic for three weeks we were, three solid weeks without a bite." > Peg gave a shaky hoot of a laugh, saying, "Eeh! doctor, that would be stretchin' it, wouldn't it? Three weeks! Three days'd be

enough."

"Can you swim, Peg?"

"What! me swim, doctor? me? Why no, I'm not a duck. No!"

'you can't swim, and you living near the river all your life? I'm

surprised at you. "

"The river's not for swimmin' in, doctor, you've got to go to the sea to swim. Clan an' me are goin' to the sea one day ... Whitley Bay.

It's a long way off but we'll land there one day. He says we will; we made up our minds. "

"He's right. I'm sure you will, Peg."

He now looked from Peg to Martha, but she had her head bent as if she were dozing, yet he knew she wasn't, and he addressed her, saying, "I think we'd all better settle down, and the floor's the best place."

When she raised her head and looked at him, he asked, "How much oil is left?"

"It'll do the night if turned low."

"Good."

He now pulled himself to his feet and, turning to the window, he tried to raise the bottom sash.

"What is it? Why are you opening the window?" She was bending down by his side.

"Apparently I am not opening it." He tugged at it, then gasped for breath.

"It does open, doesn't it?"

"I ... I can't remember it being opened for years. But why?"

He cut off her question by putting his face close to hers and

whispering, "Just because I think it's necessary.... Can you swim?"

She drew her head and shoulders back from him and glanced towards the window again before saying, "No, no, I can't. Why ... why do you ask?

It can't surely get up this far. "

S-MMMC-Q qOX

Now his voice was scarcely audible as he said, "The way it has risen in the past hour it could swamp the two end wings, never mind this part of the house." Then shaking his head, he added, "Why didn't they put attics on them too when they were at it, or better still use some

forethought and build the place further back on the rise?"

She had often thought this herself. It seemed madness when you came to think of it to build a habitation where the foundations were below

river level.

"Listen to that." He was still whispering, "The wind's rising into a gale." He now raised his eyes towards the apex of the sloping ceiling and said, "There's an ornamental parapet, partly covered with ivy, isn't. there, running across the front?"

"Yes.... Yes, there is."

"It'll be just above these windows, not right on the top?"

She too looked upwards and nodded, then lowered her gaze towards the window again, and when he saw the stark fear in her face he caught hold of her hand and said softly, "We may not have to do it, but we should be prepared. If the water reaches the top of these windows and we are trapped in here.... Well!" He made a small movement with his head.