On arriving at Gore Road, Emily was startled to find the doctor’s car outside the house. Hurrying as fast as her condition would allow, she climbed the stairs to Miss Rose’s room. Finding it empty, she was about to go to Mr George’s study when Cynthia Denton appeared on the landing outside George Winter’s bedroom.
‘What’s happened? Why is the doctor here?’ The words tumbled breathlessly from her lips.
Behind the closed door Emily could hear muted voices, one of which was heavy and deep, and which she recognised instantly as that of the Winters’ doctor.
‘I’m surprised you are worried, Miss Ford. You haven’t shown much concern for my cousin these past few months. If you had, you would have noticed that he hasn’t been well of late.’ Cynthia Denton saw Emily start to move forward and stepped in front of her, effectively barring the door behind. ‘Please return to your duties, Miss Ford. If either of my cousins asks for you, I shall inform you immediately, but until such time I forbid you to enter this room.’
Emily’s chest heaved with worry and anger.
‘How dare you speak to me in that way.’ Her voice was low and controlled. ‘I have every right to go where I please in this house. It is you who is the interloper here, Mrs Denton, not me. Now kindly move aside, before I remove you forcibly.’
Cynthia’s eyebrows rose, her lips curling into a sneer.
‘Well, well, the veneer is slipping, Miss Ford. Be careful it doesn’t slide too far. I don’t imagine my cousins would be too pleased to discover what lies beneath your façade.’
Putting out her hand, Emily thrust the startled woman to one side.
“There you are wrong, Mrs Denton. Both Miss Rose and Mr George have seen all aspects of my nature over the years. My temperament and moods hold no surprises for them. Which is more than can be said of you, you scheming bitch. I know what you’re after. I’m fully aware you’re doing your level best to get me out of this house. For an educated woman, you haven’t been too subtle about it. But your efforts will prove fruitless; both in removing me and in setting your cap at Captain Winter.’ The older woman flinched as if struck, and for a brief moment Emily felt a pang of pity for her adversary, but not for long. She had too much to lose by turning soft; she had her own particular war to fight, and she couldn’t afford to take any prisoners.
‘All those veiled questions about Captain Winter, wanting to know everything but his shoe size… Oh, yes, I’ve heard you trying to worm information out of Miss Rose, and what I haven’t heard for myself, I’ve been told by Miss Rose. She’s quite alarmed, you know, by your sudden interest in her nephew. Because, in spite of your so-called social standing, your cousin doesn’t think you’re suitable for her nephew, and I can’t say as I blame her. All things considered, I think Captain Winter is safer where he is.’ They stood glaring at each other, their faces only inches apart.
‘You’ll rue the day you trifled with me, madam. I have no intention of letting you get the better of me,’ Cynthia hissed menacingly.
‘Oooh, piffle,’ Emily countered, her hand waving the air in a dismissive gesture.
The door behind them was flung open to reveal an irate man, somewhere in his fifties, with a shock of iron-grey hair that looked as if it hadn’t seen a brush or comb in weeks.
‘What in tarnation is all this racket? I have a sick man in here and he can do without your female caterwauling, as can I… Oh, hello, there, Emily, dear. I didn’t realise it was you.’
‘Dr Green, how is Mr George? I didn’t know he was ill. He hasn’t said anything to me, he…’
‘There, there, my dear, don’t go upsetting yourself in your condition. George didn’t want to worry you, but… Look here, don’t stand out there like a stranger, come in, come in. I’m sure your presence will do the old boy a world of good.’ Leaning down he added wryly, ‘And you can take Rose off my hands into the bargain. The woman’s driving us both to distraction.’
Placing a fatherly arm around her shoulders, the doctor led Emily into the bedroom. Then, as if remembering the other woman’s presence, he turned to Cynthia and said off-handedly. ‘You, Mrs Whatever-your-name-is, make yourself useful, woman, and fetch some tea.’
Then the door was slammed shut once more, leaving Cynthia standing alone, her whole body seething with indignation and outrage at being treated in such a manner.
‘Ooh, I’ll see to you, madam, you see if I don’t,’ she said to the empty landing, before reluctantly, and with great ill-humour, making her way down to the kitchen.
Inside the large bedroom George Winter lay raised on a mountain of pillows, protesting weakly to the doctor about all the fuss he was causing.
‘Really, Alfred, all this palaver over a little turn. Stuff and nonsense, that’s what it is; stuff and nonsense.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that, George,’ said Alfred Green good-humouredly. Taking hold of the gnarled hand, he felt deftly for a pulse, his countenance showing none of the concern he was experiencing about his old friend.
Letting go of the wrist he said heartily, ‘Now then, ladies, I think we should let George get some rest. After all, he’s not as young as he was.’
‘No… I mean, I’d like a word with Emily, Alfred. Just a few minutes, I promise I won’t tire myself unduly.’
The doctor made as if to protest, then changed his mind. Ushering a flapping Miss Rose out of the room, he closed the door gently behind them.
‘Come here, my dear,’ George Winter said kindly, patting the side of the double bed. Sinking onto the soft mattress, Emily took hold of the wrinkled hands and clasped them gently.
‘I’m so sorry, Mr George, I never realised you were ill. You should have said something.’
‘There, there, child, stop your fussing. I know how worried you’ve been about your friend, and rightly so. It’s no more than I would expect of you.’
‘But I should have noticed. There’s no excuse for my negligence, I’ve been very selfish. But I know now, and I’ll take good care of you. I’ll soon have you up and running about the place, you’ll see.’
George’s eyes swept lovingly over her face, then in a quiet, dignified voice he said, ‘No. No, you won’t, child. My days of running are long gone, as indeed will I be soon.’
‘Oh, sir, don’t… Don’t say such things, please.’
‘Now, now, don’t you start blubbering. I’ve had enough of that with Rose, bless her. Listen, my dear, I wanted a chance to speak with you, to tell you that you need have no fear for the future. I’ve always said you would be looked after, and I’m a man of my word; besides which, I’m inordinately fond of you.’ He gave a short laugh and patted her hand.
‘There, you see, just like a man. Can’t come right out and say I love you. And I do, you know, Emily. I hoped that I would live long enough to see you married and settled down happily; and more so over the last months.’ Emily knew only too well the significance of the words, and her head drooped forward onto her neck.
‘Now, now, none of that.’ George Winter’s voice gained strength at Emily’s obvious discomfort. ‘I don’t know the whys or wherefores of your present condition, nor have I any intention of prying at this late stage. What I do know is that you remain as dear to me now as you’ve always been. Nothing in the world could ever alter my high regard for you. The only reason I mention it now is because of my anger towards myself for letting this business of making a new will drag on for so long. You’ve been like my own child over the years and, like any parent, I want to ensure that my child, and the children of that child, are taken care of. To that effect I want you to phone old Palmers and get him here as soon as possible.
‘The last will I made was over twenty years ago, when I was still young enough to imagine I would live for ever. But there you are, human nature doesn’t alter, and I’m not the only man, or woman, who has put off making a will in the twilight of their years. Once one gets past a certain age, it seems as if it would be tempting fate to put one’s affairs in order. I confess that is the sole reason why I have never made a new will. I imagined the ink to be barely dry on my signature before some calamity befell me…’ The faded eyes suddenly became bright with unshed tears.
‘Oh, Emily, I wish I could be brave about this… but… but I feel so afraid. You see, I don’t feel old, not inside. Inside I feel just as I did thirty years ago, and there’s so much I still want to do. Silly things, like certain books I’ve wanted to read and never quite got round to. One always says, I’ll do it tomorrow, or I’ll make a start next week. Only there comes a time when there are no tomorrows and… I… I don’t want to die, child… I don’t want to die.’
‘Oh, sir, sir, don’t, please don’t.’ Throwing herself into his trembling arms, Emily gave vent to her emotions. As the tears rained down her face, she was conscious of the sounds coming through the open window of the bedroom. The high-pitched voices of small children could be heard playing in the park opposite. An ice-cream vendor was shouting his wares, and in the distance the clip-clopping of horses’ hooves resounded on the cobbled roads. A light breeze floated through the window, fluttering the white, freshly laundered net curtain that Emily had hung up yesterday, while the faint whiff of lavender polish filled the room.
As the sounds from outside seemed to intensify, Emily wondered how everything could be so normal, so everyday, when this dear man lay dying.
Life goes on. The words sprang unbidden to her mind.
What a trite, insensitive platitude that was; it was also painfully true.
Emily hugged the thin body tighter and laid her head against the frail chest; against the heart that soon would beat no more.
George Winter died at six o’clock that evening. He died with dignity and without pain in the company of the young woman he had loved and respected, a woman who refused to leave the elderly gentleman to face death alone, and put aside her own fear and grief to comfort him during his last moments on earth.