Dr Black was running down the stairs. ‘Is that them?’ he demanded, then, seeing the young woman at the door, he barked, ‘In or out, please, the ambulance will be here shortly and I can’t have the hall cluttered with people.’
‘How is she, Doctor?’ Mrs McClusky asked.
‘Sleeping at last,’ the doctor said grimly. ‘I’ve anaesthetised her. She was worn out.’
Claire was aware of heart-rending sobs. They came from a man sitting with his head in his hands in a chair in the living room. Through the half-open door, she recognised him as Janet’s father, who had arrived late and merry at the party.
The man’s grief shook her. ‘She’s not … Mrs Travers isn’t …’
‘She’s very ill,’ Mrs McClusky said. ‘We’ve had the priest. He gave her the sacraments, you know. He told the doctor if it has to be a choice between the mother and the child, the Church’s teaching is clear, it must be the child. I say bugger the Church, begging your pardon, miss. Where would the children be without our Betty, not to mention him there?’ She indicated the sobbing Bert. ‘Big gormless lump he is without my lass behind him. We need her here.’
Mrs McClusky’s voice broke. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Claire, ‘but we’re distracted with it all. Was you wanting something?’
‘No,’ Claire said, thinking that they all had enough to worry about. ‘I’ve just called with Janet’s coat and bag. She left them at school.’
Mrs McClusky thought that odd, and any other time she would have questioned it, but at that moment the sirens were heard. ‘You must excuse me, that’s the ambulance,’ she said.
Claire watched on the pavement with a knot of neighbours until she saw Mrs Travers carried to the ambulance, Bert stumbling behind her in his distress so that they had to help him too. The doctor got in his car and offered Mrs McClusky a lift.
‘When we see how she’s doing I’ll bring you back home,’ he said.
Mrs McClusky knew he meant ‘if she pulls through’, and with a sigh she climbed in beside Dr Black. Claire watched as they drove away.
You deserve to be flayed alive for what you did to Janet Travers today, she said to herself. And I don’t know how you’re ever going to make it up to her.
When Dr Black called round to Breda’s the next morning to tell them the news of Betty and the baby, he wasn’t surprised to find that Breda had taken all the Travers children in, although only Janet was up, and drinking tea with her aunt and uncle.
‘They’re fine,’ the doctor assured the three of them. He looked at Janet and said, ‘You have a baby sister. She’s small but she’s a fighter. She’s in the special care unit, being so premature.’
Janet felt little for the baby that had disrupted their lives and would continue to do so for years to come. ‘What about Mom?’ she said.
‘Well, she’s had a tough time,’ Dr Black said, ‘but she’ll be all right.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ Breda said.
Janet felt like crying with relief. ‘Can I see her?’
‘Not at the moment,’ the doctor said. ‘They’re only allowing Bert and her parents in. Later I’ll see what I can do.’ He nodded across at Peter and said, ‘Could you tell them at the factory that Bert won’t be in today. He’s been up all night. I told him I’d see to it.’
‘No problem,’ Peter said.
‘And Mammy must be bushed,’ Breda said. ‘I’ll keep the children with me today. I’ll have to go and get some clothes for them in a minute.’
‘Have we to go to school?’ Janet asked.
‘Not today,’ Breda said. ‘I could do with you at home anyway to give me a hand with the twins and Linda, but tomorrow you should be back.’
Tomorrow could look after itself. Janet let her breath out in a sigh of relief. Dr Black glanced up at her and said, ‘Thought you liked school?’
‘I do usually,’ said Janet. ‘Only I don’t particularly want to go today, ’cos I’m worried about Mom.’
‘I can understand that,’ Dr Black said. He stood up. ‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘I’ll have to be off or I’ll have patients beating the door down.’ He looked at Breda and added, ‘I’ll drop you at your sister’s if you like, it’s on my way.’
Janet saw Breda hesitate. ‘I’ll be here to see to the others if they wake up,’ she told her aunt.
‘Well, I certainly need to get them some clean clothes,’ Breda said. ‘The twins have gone to bed like a couple of tinkers and Janet here came home yesterday with holes in her stockings and her dress only fit for the rag bag.’
Janet, who’d been loaned a pair of Breda’s pyjamas for the night, saw the doctor’s eyebrows raised quizzically, and explained, ‘I fell over.’
She said the same thing, just a few minutes later, when Peter had left for work and Breda had gone upstairs to change out of her slippers. Dr Black and Janet were alone. Janet reached across the table to collect the cups to rinse in the sink and suddenly Dr Black took hold of her hand and turned it over gently.
Janet looked at the blistered ridges that had appeared overnight and pulled away from the doctor’s grasp. ‘I fell over,’ she said again. ‘Auntie Breda told you about the state of my clothes.’
‘Yes,’ said Dr Black, ‘but Auntie Breda’s not here now and you can tell me what really happened.’
‘I told you.’
‘Janet, I’m not a fool,’ the doctor said impatiently. ‘Who did this to you?’
‘Did what?’
‘Someone’s hit you with a cane or something,’ Dr Black said. Despite his impatience, he understood Janet’s reluctance to speak out: she wasn’t the type who was often in trouble and was probably ashamed that she’d been punished.
Janet looked at the doctor. She’d known him all her life. She wondered what would happen if she was to tell him everything. She gave an involuntary shiver. It didn’t bear thinking about.
She stared at him and said decisively, ‘I fell over.’
Dr Black sighed. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘have it your own way. But you’ve got dirt in it. If you don’t want it to fester, it will have to be cleaned and dressed.’
By the time Breda came down, Dr Black was winding a bandage expertly around Janet’s hand.
‘Young Janet got some dirt in that cut on her hand,’ he said by way of explanation to Breda. ‘Have to keep it out of the water for a day or two.’
‘What some people will do to get out of the washing-up,’ Breda said with a smile at Janet.
Janet was too nervous to smile back. She’d been worried what the doctor would tell Auntie Breda and was grateful to him for saying nothing. Her hand felt much better, though it had stung like mad when he was cleaning it. But the ointment he’d dabbed on it was soothing and now it felt much easier, protected as it was by the thick wad of bandage.
Duncan, much to his disgust, was dispatched with a shopping list later that morning. Seeing the sulky droop of his lips Breda said sharply, ‘Don’t even bother complaining, Duncan. Janet is more help to me in the house, and anyway, she can hardly carry heavy bags with her sore hand.’
He went, only slightly mollified. Being unused to shopping, it took him even longer than it did Janet, and when he’d finished he turned for home