The weather had changed rapidly and the colours of autumn were lost as winter began to make itself known. It was early one frosty morning and Jack was out sweeping the street of the detritus left by revellers the night before.
Wrapped against the cold with two pairs of woollen socks, a jumper over his shirt topped by a jacket, Jack pulled the muffler closer about his neck. Icy fingers pinched his nose as he breathed air so cold it burned his lungs. The onset of winter had come fast and threatened to be a hard one.
Looking at the window of The Crown Saloon, Jack saw white lacy patterns slowly creeping up the glass. His eyes travelled up to the guttering and caught sight of clear stalactites of ice hanging there.
He gave a shiver and continued sweeping, his back to the road. Suddenly there was a shout as a horse slipped on a patch of black ice. A woman watched in horror as the cart it was pulling skidded sideways before taking Jack clean off his feet.
The boy flew through the air to land with a sickening thud as the iron rimmed cart wheels slid to a halt. A woman screamed and the carter jumped from his seat to run to the child who lay unmoving.
Nellie rushed outside to find out what all the noise was about. Seeing the carter bent over a figure lying on the freezing ground, she quickly moved to offer assistance.
But, seeing it was her boy lying prone, Nellie let out a low groan which rose to a high pitched keening as she knelt down beside the child she loved with all her heart.
‘It ain’t my fault… I… the cart…’ the man was gibbering.
‘Somebody fetch the doctor!’ Nellie yelled at the top of her voice, ‘NOW!’
Returning her attention to Jack she called his name softly. ‘Jack, son, can you hear me?’
The woman who had screamed picked up the flat cap and held it out to Nellie. Nodding her thanks Nellie held it to her chest and looked around at the crowd beginning to gather.
‘A bloke’s gone for the doctor,’ the woman said and Nellie could only nod again as she gently pushed Jack’s hair from his closed eyes.
The carter whipped off his greatcoat and draped it over Jack while another man rolled up his jacket and pushed it beneath the boy’s head with care.
It seemed to take forever for the doctor to arrive and Nellie’s tears fell like rain. ‘Jack, oh, bab, open yer eyes for me, lad,’ Nellie blubbered. ‘Come on, sweetheart, wake up!’
‘Doctor’s here,’ someone called out and the crowd parted to allow him through. He then checked Jack’s pulse and felt him all over for broken bones. Lifting the boy’s eyelids, he looked into his eyes then said, ‘Right, let’s get him indoors so I can examine him thoroughly.’
‘Is he—?’ Nellie began.
‘No, he’s not dead, so don’t be fretting too much.’
The carter and the man who had rolled his coat for a pillow very gently lifted Jack and carried him inside. Careful not to jostle him they took him upstairs to his bed and left the doctor to do his work.
Meanwhile, Nellie was trying to explain to the others in the kitchen what had happened. Fred was furious and all set to beat the carter to a pulp.
‘It ain’t his fault, Fred, the wheels hit the ice and our Jack was in the way of it.’ Nellie explained what she’d been told by onlookers.
‘Fair enough.’ Fred then turned to the Dempsters and said, ‘Rake the ashes out of the fires and spread ’em on the road.’
Matthew and Noah jumped to it and Nancy rushed to add salt to the mixture which would help clear the ice.
So busy were they that no one noticed Dolly in the corner crying silently.
The carter sat at the table with Nellie. ‘I ain’t half sorry, missus, but there were nothing I could do!’ His hands shook as he accepted the hot sweet tea Nancy passed to him.
Nellie nodded her understanding as she wiped her tears on the corner of her shawl. Her eyes constantly darted to the stairs door as she awaited the appearance of the doctor.
Poppy glanced around the kitchen and saw Dolly quietly sobbing. Rushing to the girl she wrapped her arms about the slim form. ‘He’ll be all right, you’ll see,’ she whispered.
Everyone stood around the kitchen in a state of shock, not knowing what to do or say.
Finally, the sound of footsteps on the stairs had all look to the doorway.
‘Well, his arm is broken so I’ve set it, bandaged it and put a sling on. No other injuries as far as I can see but – his head took a nasty bang,’ the doctor said as he placed his Gladstone bag on the table.
Nancy passed him a cup of tea and then Nellie asked, ‘Will he be all right?’
‘There’s no knowing until he wakes up, I’m afraid. I understand it’s not what you want to hear but I’ll tell it straight. There could be some brain damage…’
Nellie cried out and covered her face with her hands.
‘Could be, Mrs Larkin; then again the lad could be fine. We’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sorry it’s not better news. Stay with him and keep him warm and I’ll call back this evening,’ the doctor said picking up his bag.
Nellie paid him and Fred saw him out before returning to fold a sobbing Nancy in his arms.
Nellie sat staring into space and her adoptive family exchanged glances as Poppy tried to talk to her. Nellie did not respond, but continued to stare into the middle distance, concentrating on something no one else could see.
With everyone consumed with comforting Nellie, the Dempsters took over serving at the bar, and no one saw Dolly slip away and quietly climb the stairs.
Tiptoeing into Jack’s room she dragged a chair to the bedside and sat down. Silent tears streaked down her face and dripped off her chin.
‘Jack,’ she whispered, ‘you have to get well. You’re my brother now and I need you. I love you, Jack Larkin, so come back to me.’
A little while later Nancy popped her head around the door and asked, ‘How is he?’
‘No change as yet,’ Dolly answered.
‘I brought you a cup of tea. I told Nellie you was here. I popped up quietly a little while ago and peeped in when we couldn’t find you earlier. Bloody hell, it’s cold in here, I’ll get one of the boys to light a fire.’ Taking a spare blanket from an ottoman in the corner, Nancy draped it around Dolly’s shoulders.
‘Thank you. How’s Nellie?’
Nancy just shook her head and left the room. Moments later John Jenkins was building a fire in the grate before leaving Dolly to her silent vigil.
Watching Jack’s chest rise and fall evenly, Dolly’s eyes then moved to his face. His complexion was pasty and his eyes were still beneath their lids. In her mind Dolly prayed for her friend’s recovery. Over and over she asked God to make him well again.
For want of something to do, Poppy and Fred joined the Dempsters in the bar while John and Jim watched from the side lines for any trouble brewing, ready to intervene if needed.
Nancy busied herself in the kitchen, keeping a close eye on the still form of her friend and she kept up a constant chatter in the hope Nellie could hear her.
‘The lad will be fine, Nell, you’ll see. I thought Fred was gonna paste the life outta that carter though. Poor bugger was shaken to his bones; couldn’t even hold the cup of tea I gave him. It ain’t surprisin’ though, I bet it was quite a shock for him.’
Later, Dolly was startled when the doctor entered the room; she’d not noticed the grey daylight slipping away.
‘You should get some rest, m’dear,’ the doctor said as he examined Jack.
‘I’m all right, but thank you for your concern,’ Dolly whispered.
‘Well, he’s no worse so that’s good news.’
‘Will he wake up soon?’ Dolly asked.
‘I don’t know, chick, and that’s the truth. I’m hoping by the morning he’ll be asking for his breakfast.’ The doctor gave a wan smile as he lifted his bag.
‘Can he hear me if I talk to him?’
‘Some in the profession don’t think so, but I believe he can. It’s my contention that familiar voices help in circumstances such as this. It assures the patient he’s not alone. Talk to him, read or sing to him – he’ll hear you, I’m sure.’ The doctor patted Dolly’s shoulder and left the room to check on Nellie who, he had been told, hadn’t moved a muscle all day.
Dolly threw more coal on the fire and turned up the gas light the doctor had lit. Returning to her seat she pulled the blanket around herself once more.
‘Right, Master Larkin, in the words of your mother – open yer eyes and get yer arse out of that bed!’