Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 814 by Angharad

The pressure was mounting on me and I could feel the tension. Hilary was trying to remain rational, although in some ways the time for that had gone. As soon as she asked me, I would have to comply–to try and save her husband, but with something I didn’t understand nor know if it was still with me, whatever it actually was.

She sat at the table and continued drinking the coffee we’d poured for her–it had to be cold by now–as if the action of drinking comforted her or distracted her body so her mind could play by itself. Her eyes were fixed on me, but I don’t think she was seeing anything, her mind was elsewhere.

“Catherine?” she said diffidently, and I thought , Here it comes, “Could you pour me a fresh cup of coffee?”

“Of course, Hilary.” Okay, so I got it wrong, none of us are perfect you know.

“Would you like Cathy to...?” Stella shut up when I fixed her with an icy glance.

“Would I like Cathy to what, my dear?” Hilary said back.

“Pass you something to eat, while she’s up?” Stella changed the subject.

“No thank you, my dear; I’ve quite lost my appetite.”

I passed her the steaming coffee and poured myself another as well, it was as much to keep occupied as anything. Part of me was calculating, if she doesn’t ask soon, it’s going to be too late full stop. Bringing a child back from limbo is different to an older adult, who might have all sorts of other complications beside the cause of death.

I sipped my coffee. “This is excellent coffee, Catherine. I have a niece called Catherine, it’s not you is it? I haven’t seen her for some years, d’you see?”

“No it isn’t me, Lady Hilary.”

“Oh, anyway, this is excellent coffee, or did I just say that?”

“If you did, then I’m sure it needed saying twice–and it is very good coffee.”

“You are kind, and sweet. A very pretty young lady.”

“Thank you,” I said blushing.

“You remind me of someone, can’t think who?”

I nodded, I wasn’t enjoying the conversation, but I recalled the assistance she’d given me when I was practically out of my tree with worry. I wasn’t going to offer–I wasn’t–I really wasn’t. Then I saw her and she suddenly looked about fifty years older than she was last night.

“This is excellent coffee, or did I say that?” she said, again.

I nodded. I wasn’t going to offer–if she asked me, that was different. I looked at her, it was as if she was shrinking before my very eyes. I felt my own eyes forming tears, how long were we going to play out this charade?

She emptied her cup and placed it loudly on the table. “That was excellent coffee,” she said and burped, “Oops, excuse me,” she blushed. “Two years at a Swiss finishing school–obviously wasted.” She laughed to herself. Then she seemed to snap back into the present and she looked at me, “He’s going to die, isn’t he?”

I felt the salty fluid roll down my cheeks, “Probably.”

“It’s too young, he’s only sixty–that’s far too young.”

I nodded my agreement. Stella was keeping out of things but her tear filled eyes were missing nothing. “Would you like me to see–see if I can do anything to help him?” Damn, I wasn’t going to offer–was I?

“How can you help him, a pretty young thing like you? You do remind me of someone–now who is it?” She closed her eyes and they snapped open, “I’ve got it, you remind me of that girl on the TV, talked about mice, or something or other–very pretty–yes, you’re a lot like her.”

“Lady–um, Hilary, why don’t you go and have a rest, it’s been a very tiring morning and I’m sure you’d feel easier if you had a small nap.”

“I am quite tired–but rest? No, I can’t rest, my husband is dying, don’t you see? I can’t rest.”

“Maybe I can help him?”

“How can you help him? You don’t even believe in God, do you?”

Why do they always remember the bits that would have been better forgotten? “That doesn’t seem to make any difference.”

“Of course it does, I’d prefer my husband was seen by someone from the Church of England–they might be poofs–but at least they’re Christian poofs.”

I didn’t see that coming and its absurdity caught me on the funny bone and I snorted–then had to wipe my nose on a paper napkin. I blushed absolute scarlet. Try again. “Hilary, isn’t it supposed to be how you live rather than what you believe, that constitutes godliness?”

“Are you C of E?”

“Do you want him to die?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I don’t.”

“Then I’d better see what I can do, hadn’t I?”

“Don’t you touch him.”

“Why?”

“Because–because you’re not Christian.”

“You knew that yesterday and the day before and you gave me and my family shelter and hospitality. When I was practically out of my mind with worry for my missing children, you came and comforted me and Sir George did all he could to help me. I cannot walk away and let him die–human decency won’t allow it.”

“Please don’t touch him.”

“I’ll make a deal with you, I’ll try and save him, if you don’t like the way it turns out–you can always kill him later.” I touched her on the shoulders and I felt her relax–she slumped in the chair. “Stella, help me shove her on the couch, keep her here–I’d better get up to Sir George before it’s too late, if it isn’t already.”

We dumped her sleeping body on the couch, she was heavier than she looked. “I knew you’d save him, how did you–knock her out?”

“It isn’t by any means certain, in fact I’d still suggest you keep the undertaker’s number handy–I dunno what I did, but I felt a need to touch her.”

“She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?”

“How do I know, I deal with dormice–you’re the bloody nurse.” I dashed out of the room just as a maid was coming in to clear the breakfast dishes. “Can you leave that, your mistress is trying to sleep–she’s exhausted?”

“I s’pose I could, you sure?”

“Positive, look blame me if I’m wrong, but I’m not. Now, can you take me up to Sir Georges’ room.”

“But he’s very ill–maybe even–you know...”

“I know, that’s why I need to see him, before he does.”

“Oh you can’t disturb him, ma’am, your business will just have to wait and deal with Lady Hilary.”

“I have something which might just help him survive.”

“So why din’t the doctor give it to ‘im then?”

“It’s something we’ve been trying at the university–still very hush hush, most doctors don’t know about it yet.” Once upon a time I couldn’t tell a lie to save my life, now I can do it to save those of others. How the mighty have fallen?

“I don’t think my master should be used as a guinea pig.”

“Would you prefer a live guinea pig or a dead master?”

“Ooh-er, I don’t rightly know.”

“Come on show me the way and then make sure no one disturbs me until I say–okay?”

“I don’t know about this, ma’am,” she said as I dragged her towards the stairs.