wouldn’t be afraid to die. Then she laid the tray across his legs, packed the pillows behind his back and made sure that he was coping before she left him.
After supper, he was joined by Mr Leslie. ‘The ladies are washing up, so I hope you don’t mind my company?’
‘I’m glad of the chance to thank you for what you did,’ Henry said earnestly if rather weakly. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I could have died.’
The man’s expression sobered. ‘Yes, I am afraid you are quite right. You should really have been in a hospital or gone to the doctor but I did what I could and, apparently, it was enough. Now, would you like to tell me a little about yourself if you do not think I am being too inquisitive?’
‘Not at all.’ Recognising that a man has to be careful about the people he brings into his house, Henry gave him a brief outline of his life until the ladies came in and the conversation broadened.
‘I usually have my last pipe outside so that the smoke will not bother the ladies,’ Mr Leslie observed as he stood up at nine thirty. Then, taking a small hand-bell from a drawer in the beautiful mahogany davenport, he handed it to Henry, ‘I will not bother you again but do not hesitate to ring this if you need me in the night.’
In another fifteen minutes, Fay and her mother had also left and he was alone with his thoughts. All his reflections led him to the same conclusion. Despite having almost sliced his thumb off with a scythe (he had hardly felt it at the time – the pain came later), the prolonged loss of blood then the agony of theiodine applications, it was the best day he had ever spent in his life. He would go through it all again if he could have more time with the girl he had met because of it.
Fay Leslie was in a class of her own. She had softness about her yet she had an air of superiority – although she hadn’t made him feel in the least in -ferior, quite the opposite. She had been warm and friendly, sympathetic while she attended to him and worried about leaving him on his own all night. Even after he assured her that he would be fine, she had been reluctant to go. She was a girl in a million, a girl who clearly had brains as well as beauty, a girl he would be happy to have as his … wife?
He heaved a great sigh at this point. He would certainly be happy, more than happy, but would she? It was an impossible dream. Even if Fay did respond to his feelings, a man with no real trade or profession wouldn’t be her father’s choice of son-in-law. The chemist would want his daughter to marry somebody who came of a well-to-do family, who could keep the girl in the manner to which she was accustomed, as the saying went, or in an even better manner, so what chance would an odd-job boy have?
Henry changed position now but it was some time before he fell asleep, a deep sleep of reaction to what he had gone through. Only about an hour later, he woke up drenched in sweat, pain shooting up his whole arm. Determined not to ring for help, he gritted his teeth and braced himself to bear it, thole it, as his Gramma would have said, but the pain only intensified. Not only that, he was sweating like a stuck pig.
Of course, he reassured himself, he was bound to get some discomfort; the cut could hardly have been worse. It wasn’t just discomfort, though. He tried to lift the affected left arm and found he couldn’t move it. He was being slowly paralysed yet he could feel the blood pounding in his head, louder and louder until he was almost screaming.
It had been an eventful day and Fay was far too emotional to sleep. She had never before met anyone like Henry, aworking-class boy who was softly spoken and well mannered. She had to admit that she didn’t know many young men of any class, except the sons of her father’s friends and they were either too stuck up to talk to her or they flirted outrageously if they had the chance. Most of those who came into the shop were rough in their speech as
After supper, he was joined by Mr Leslie. ‘The ladies are washing up, so I hope you don’t mind my company?’
‘I’m glad of the chance to thank you for what you did,’ Henry said earnestly if rather weakly. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, I could have died.’
The man’s expression sobered. ‘Yes, I am afraid you are quite right. You should really have been in a hospital or gone to the doctor but I did what I could and, apparently, it was enough. Now, would you like to tell me a little about yourself if you do not think I am being too inquisitive?’
‘Not at all.’ Recognising that a man has to be careful about the people he brings into his house, Henry gave him a brief outline of his life until the ladies came in and the conversation broadened.
‘I usually have my last pipe outside so that the smoke will not bother the ladies,’ Mr Leslie observed as he stood up at nine thirty. Then, taking a small hand-bell from a drawer in the beautiful mahogany davenport, he handed it to Henry, ‘I will not bother you again but do not hesitate to ring this if you need me in the night.’
In another fifteen minutes, Fay and her mother had also left and he was alone with his thoughts. All his reflections led him to the same conclusion. Despite having almost sliced his thumb off with a scythe (he had hardly felt it at the time – the pain came later), the prolonged loss of blood then the agony of theiodine applications, it was the best day he had ever spent in his life. He would go through it all again if he could have more time with the girl he had met because of it.
Fay Leslie was in a class of her own. She had softness about her yet she had an air of superiority – although she hadn’t made him feel in the least in -ferior, quite the opposite. She had been warm and friendly, sympathetic while she attended to him and worried about leaving him on his own all night. Even after he assured her that he would be fine, she had been reluctant to go. She was a girl in a million, a girl who clearly had brains as well as beauty, a girl he would be happy to have as his … wife?
He heaved a great sigh at this point. He would certainly be happy, more than happy, but would she? It was an impossible dream. Even if Fay did respond to his feelings, a man with no real trade or profession wouldn’t be her father’s choice of son-in-law. The chemist would want his daughter to marry somebody who came of a well-to-do family, who could keep the girl in the manner to which she was accustomed, as the saying went, or in an even better manner, so what chance would an odd-job boy have?
Henry changed position now but it was some time before he fell asleep, a deep sleep of reaction to what he had gone through. Only about an hour later, he woke up drenched in sweat, pain shooting up his whole arm. Determined not to ring for help, he gritted his teeth and braced himself to bear it, thole it, as his Gramma would have said, but the pain only intensified. Not only that, he was sweating like a stuck pig.
Of course, he reassured himself, he was bound to get some discomfort; the cut could hardly have been worse. It wasn’t just discomfort, though. He tried to lift the affected left arm and found he couldn’t move it. He was being slowly paralysed yet he could feel the blood pounding in his head, louder and louder until he was almost screaming.
It had been an eventful day and Fay was far too emotional to sleep. She had never before met anyone like Henry, aworking-class boy who was softly spoken and well mannered. She had to admit that she didn’t know many young men of any class, except the sons of her father’s friends and they were either too stuck up to talk to her or they flirted outrageously if they had the chance. Most of those who came into the shop were rough in their speech as
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