Chapter Thirty-Five

As the countdown to Christmas continued, the town seemed to be whipping itself into a festive frenzy. This was largely due to the return of hundreds of excited children to homes they had been forced to leave at the start of the war when they had been evacuated to farms and villages far away from the reach of Hitler’s bombs. Toys and sweets had also arrived from America to be distributed to the children of the poor, and the town’s annual Christmas Fayre was opened with much aplomb. With posters advertising dances at the New Rink and the Seaburn Hall, there was no doubting that this Christmas was going to be one to remember.

Arriving at the asylum to take Henrietta to the Maison Nouvelle for her final fitting, Helen found her grandmother waiting in the foyer. She was wrapped up in her winter coat and was sitting in a chair next to the large reception desk. Genevieve was talking on the phone, her back ramrod straight as she scribbled on a notepad. As Helen hurried across the tiled flooring, the acoustics of the asylum’s high-ceilinged entrance caused the sound of her heeled shoes to echo.

‘Henrietta …’ Helen was always careful to call her grandmother by her first name if there was a chance of anyone hearing her.

Genevieve placed the receiver back in its cradle.

‘She’s ready and raring to go,’ she said, nodding over to Henrietta. ‘Dr Eris has signed her day-release papers.’

Helen gave Genevieve a steely look as she took the form from her. She would have liked nothing more than to confront her about her indiscretions, but knew that would never be possible. Still, it didn’t mean she had to be nice to her.

Helen glanced back at her grandmother. She thought Henrietta looked ready, but not exactly raring. Her anger towards Genevieve was replaced by concern for her grandmother.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, sitting down on the chair next to Henrietta. ‘You look a little pale.’

‘Yes, yes, my dear, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.’

‘We can put this off until another day if you want?’ Helen asked.

‘No, no.’ Henrietta smiled. ‘I’ve been looking forward to this all week. Finally, I will have my new outfit … And I can bring it back with me, can’t I?’

‘Yes, of course you can,’ Helen said, touching her grandmother’s hand. It felt stone cold. She caught her grandmother shivering.

‘Dear me, I think we need to warm those hands up.’ She took them both in her own and rubbed them. Her grandmother seemed subdued.

‘Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?’ Helen asked again.

Henrietta pushed herself up out of her seat.

‘Wild horses wouldn’t stop me,’ she declared determinedly.

‘All right, but put my gloves on,’ Helen said, digging around in her coat pockets and handing Henrietta her fur-lined leather gloves.

It only took them a few minutes to get to the car. A pathway through the snow had been cleared. Seeing her grandmother start to tremble a little, Helen started up the ignition and put the heater on full blast.

It took just over a quarter of an hour to drive to the Maison Nouvelle. Helping her grandmother out of the car, she saw that she was still shaking, in spite of the car feeling like a sauna.

As soon as they walked into the boutique, the little brass bell announced their arrival. Kate appeared from the back of the shop and hurried over to greet them.

‘Oh, Henrietta, it’s lovely to see you.’ But the nearer she got to her client, the more she sensed that something was not right.

‘Dear me …’ She looked at Helen and then back to Henrietta. ‘You look frozen to the bone.’

Henrietta smiled, but didn’t reply. It was as though she hadn’t heard Kate. Her eyes scanned the shop before she found what she was looking for. Her face lit up and she clapped her hands in excitement.

‘Oh, Kate, it looks divine!’

Kate and Helen followed Henrietta’s gaze to her new outfit – an elegant two-piece displayed on a padded coat hanger that had been hooked onto a dressmaker’s dummy.

Henrietta took two steps towards the blue tailored skirt and jacket. She pulled off her gloves and reached out to touch the fine merino fabric. As she did so, she sighed and turned to Kate.

‘Thank you. It’s beautiful.’

As she looked back at her outfit, she swayed a little. She reached out to grab something to steady herself, but found only air.

Letting out a startled sound as her legs buckled, Henrietta sank to the floor in a small heap.

‘Grandmama!’ Helen rushed to her, dropping down on the ground and lifting Henrietta’s head from the carpet. She had landed on her side and was curled up like a sleeping dormouse, snuggled up in her thick winter coat.

‘I’ll get some water …’ Kate hurried to the back room, returning seconds later with a tumbler of water.

Henrietta’s eyes were fluttering open. She was still conscious.

‘Try and take a sip,’ Kate cajoled.

Henrietta did as she was told.

‘She’s shaking,’ Helen said. ‘I don’t like this. Not one bit.’

Kate put the tumbler down by her side and took a hold of Henrietta’s face. She gently pulled down Henrietta’s lower eyelids.

Helen watched Kate’s concerned face.

Grabbing a handkerchief from her cuff, Kate dabbed it in the glass of water and then started to wipe off Henrietta’s foundation and powder.

Helen gasped in shock.

The hue of her grandmother’s skin was a pale yellow.

‘Does Henrietta drink?’

Helen looked confused.

‘Spirits?’ Kate said. ‘Liquor? Any kind of alcohol?’

‘No, no.’ Helen shook her head vigorously. ‘We just pretend.’

Kate gave her a puzzled look.

‘She used to drink vodka – in the old days – before the asylum.’ Helen shook her head again. ‘We drink water. Pretend it’s Russian vodka.’

Feeling her grandmother starting to tremble once more, Helen wrapped her arms around her.

‘I think we need to get her to a hospital,’ Kate said. ‘I think she’s suffering from liver failure.’

Helen looked at Kate, confused.

‘I used to see it a lot on the street,’ Kate explained. ‘The jaundiced skin. The yellow tinge in the eyes.’ She touched Henrietta’s hand, which was still shaking. ‘This shaking – we’d call it the “tremors”.’

Kate touched Henrietta’s cheek to focus her attention. ‘Have you been drinking, Henrietta?’

Henrietta shook her head like a child. ‘No, just our Russian water.’ She looked up at Helen.

‘That’s right …’ Helen nodded, trying to give her grandmother a reassuring smile. She looked at her eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed the colour before?

‘Come on, let’s see if we can get you on your feet,’ Helen coaxed, moving Henrietta into a sitting position.

Helen and Kate positioned themselves on either side and gently lifted Henrietta to her feet. She was as light as a feather. Helen put her arm around Henrietta’s waist. It was only then that she realised her grandmother had lost weight.

‘I can manage her on my own,’ Helen said. Henrietta was so light, she thought she could fling her over her shoulder if need be. ‘Can you call Dr Parker at the Ryhope and Dr Eris at the asylum and get them to meet us at the Royal?’

Kate hurried to open the front door. ‘I will.’

Helen turned just as Kate was shutting the door. ‘Actually, Kate, call the asylum first. The receptionist there’s called Genevieve. Tell her to find them both and get them over to the hospital immediately. Tell her, Helen says she knows what she did, so she better find them or there’ll be hell to pay.’

Kate nodded, shut the door and hurried over to the wall phone behind the counter.

She got through to the asylum on the second ring. After telling Genevieve that Henrietta had fallen ill and been taken to the Royal, she repeated what Helen had told her to say. There was a second’s silence before Genevieve assured her that she would get Dr Eris and Dr Parker to the hospital as quickly as humanly possible. She had just seen them both leave the asylum moments earlier. Not wanting to miss them, she banged the phone down and hurried out of the main entrance. It was dark, but she could clearly see them just as they were about to get into a taxi.

*

Henrietta looked at Helen’s worried face as she sat in her lovely little sports car. She remembered being young and wanting to learn to drive herself, but Charles wasn’t having any of it. He’d said it was ridiculous. A woman driving. She thought of Charles. Of his evil. How had she been so blind? Turning her head to the left, she looked out of the window at the shops along Holmeside, all decorated for Christmas. Nearly every single one of them had a Christmas tree on show. She remembered when she’d last walked down this street. For a moment, she was a young woman again, shopping, stopping for tea in one of the cafeterias. Henrietta felt herself leaning into the passenger door as the car took a sharp left. Looking out onto Stockton Street, she felt confused.

‘Where am I?’ she asked. She felt as though she was in a dream. Her eyelids seemed to have become so heavy. So very heavy.

‘You’re with me, Grandmama.’ Helen’s voice sounded strained. ‘You’re not well. I’m taking you to the hospital.’

Suddenly, Helen slammed on the brakes and they both lurched forward.

‘Damn!’ The road was closed off. It looked as though there was some kind of water leak. The street had turned into a gurgling stream.

Banging the car into reverse, she managed to do a three-point turn. A car behind her was doing the same, but more slowly. She cursed again.

‘Get a move on!’ She slammed the palm of her hand on the horn.

The car’s brake lights went on and a hand appeared from the driver’s side. The man’s gesture left no doubt as to his feelings. Making her pay for her impatience, the car drove off at a snail’s pace, aware that there was no way she could overtake.

Helen caught her grandmother’s head drop to her chest. She was falling asleep.

‘Grandmama! Stay awake!’ she shouted.

Again, Helen thumped her hand on the horn and flashed her lights.

This time, the car in front of her stopped and she watched as a mountain of a man squeezed himself out of the driver’s side.

Helen opened her door. ‘You idiot! I’ve got a seriously ill woman here. I need to get her to the hospital!’

The man took a minute to digest what he had just heard before quickly turning around and cramming himself back into the driver’s seat. He immediately started up the engine and manoeuvred his car onto the pavement, enabling Helen to pass.

Driving to the end of the street and turning left, Helen stamped her foot on the accelerator. She could see that Henrietta had started to shake again. As she returned her attention to the road, she saw an old man shuffling across. Again, she slammed on her brakes. Her heart was thumping. After driving around the old man, she kept her focus on the road, but continued talking to her grandmother. Instinct told her that she needed to keep her awake.

Driving down the Durham Road, she saw the entrance lights of the Royal Infirmary. She hated the place. The last time she’d been there was when she’d had her miscarriage. Tears sprang to her eyes. She couldn’t lose someone else she loved. Pulling up at the entrance, she jumped out and ran round to the passenger side.

‘Grandmama, stay awake! We’re here. At the hospital!’ She guided her up the steps.

‘Help!’ she shouted out as soon as she was through the front door. ‘I need help!’ she shouted again. Looking about her, the place seemed deserted. For an insane moment she thought there’d been an air raid and everyone had gone to shelter.

‘Hello!’ she bellowed. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and saw the face of the receptionist appearing through a little hatch-like window.

‘If you can just take a seat,’ the young girl said, wiping crumbs from the side of her mouth. Helen caught the sound of distant laughter.

‘No, I can’t take a seat!’ Helen practically screamed. ‘I need a doctor now!’

As if on cue, Helen felt Henrietta’s hand grip her arm as she suddenly bent over and threw up on the shiny linoleum floor.

The young girl’s face disappeared just as Helen heard the screech of car brakes, the thuds of two doors closing and two sets of footsteps hurrying up the stone entrance. Helen turned around just as Dr Parker and Dr Eris came rushing into the main foyer.

‘Oh, thank God!’

‘What’s happened?’ Dr Parker said, immediately taking charge. He looked down at the vomit on the floor, checking it quickly for any signs of blood, and was relieved to see none.

‘I don’t know,’ Helen said, her voice shaking. She looked to see Dr Eris charging over to a wheelchair that had been parked further down the corridor. ‘She seemed unwell when I picked her up.’

‘How long ago?’ Dr Parker demanded.

‘About an hour or so,’ Helen said, watching as he gently held Henrietta’s head in both his hands and inspected her.

‘Henrietta.’ He spoke sternly and loudly. ‘What have you had to drink today?’ His eyes flickered down at the floor. The vomit was milky white, with what looked like small bits of dark grit.

‘Eggnog,’ Henrietta slurred.

‘Here.’ Dr Eris arrived with the wheelchair, avoiding the mess on the floor. ‘Let’s get you sat down, Henrietta.’ Her voice was calm.

Helen stood back as Henrietta sank into the chair.

Dr Parker started firing questions.

‘What have you eaten today, Henrietta?’

‘Biscuit,’ she said, her eyelids drooping. ‘Oatmeal.’

‘Anything else?’

She shook her head. ‘Not hungry.’

‘I think she’s lost weight,’ Helen chipped in. ‘I hadn’t really noticed until today.’

‘Have you been drinking anything, Henrietta? Alcohol?’ Dr Parker asked.

Again, Henrietta shook her head.

‘Not even in the eggnog?’

‘Mother’s taken to bringing her eggnog,’ Helen butted in, ‘but there’s no rum or anything in it.’

Dr Parker felt Henrietta’s brow. She was burning up. He then felt her stomach. He looked at Dr Eris. ‘What medication is she on?’

Dr Eris suddenly looked nervous.

‘Can you remember? Or do you need to ring the asylum to access her file?’ Dr Parker demanded.

Helen thought of her mother’s words – ‘a fishbowl full of drugs’.

‘Mmm …’ Dr Eris hesitated.

‘Claire!’ Dr Parker’s sharpness made both Dr Eris and Helen jump.

‘Do you need to get her file? We’ve not got much time. I need to know what she’s been taking.’

‘No, no, I don’t need her file. I know what she’s been taking,’ Dr Eris said.

Dr Parker stared at her.

‘What, then?’ Now he wasn’t even trying to keep the sharpness out of his voice. Why was she being so vague?

‘What is it?’ Helen said, touching Dr Eris’s arm. ‘What is it you don’t want to tell us?’

Dr Eris took a deep breath. ‘Henrietta’s not on anything.’

‘What do you mean?’ Dr Parker demanded.

‘I’ve been giving her placebos. Sugar pills. That’s all.’

Dr Parker nodded. There was no time to ask her why. ‘That’s good. That’s going to go in her favour. Give her liver more of a chance.’

He turned back to Henrietta.

‘Stay with us, Henrietta. We’re going to get you some help. But I need you to try to stay awake.’

Hearing movement from further down the corridor, Helen looked up to see a doctor and a nurse jogging towards them.

Dr Parker took the handles of the wheelchair.

‘You two stay here,’ he said, as he started pushing Henrietta down the corridor at speed.

Helen and Dr Eris stood watching as Dr Parker stopped to speak to the doctor and the nurse. Seconds later, they all disappeared around the corner.

The two women stood in silence for a moment.

‘Do you think she’s going to be all right?’ Helen asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Dr Eris said. ‘But I do know Henrietta’s in good hands. The best.’

Helen looked at her and saw how much respect she had for the man she was set on marrying.

‘Come on, let’s sit down,’ said Dr Eris.

Helen nodded. She suddenly felt exhausted, as though she had been drained of every ounce of energy.

As they both walked over to the seats by the front door, Dr Eris glanced at Helen. She looked terrible. Pale, with mascara smudges around her eyes.

They were both quiet as they sat down. Both immersed in their own thoughts, the only intrusion the sound of a wireless playing ‘Jingle Bells’ coming from the receptionist’s hatch.

Helen looked around the hospital waiting area. For the first time, she noticed that there was a Christmas tree in the corner, a few straggles of tinsel and paper chains dangling from pictures hanging on the wall. ‘Jingle Bells’ ended and the jolly strands of ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ started up.

‘Why were you giving Grandmother sugar pills?’ Helen asked suddenly.

Dr Eris knew the cat was out of the bag. She sighed and looked at Helen.

‘Your grandfather came to the asylum a while ago. He explained to me that Henrietta was a distant relative who had fallen under his care.’ As soon as Dr Eris started to speak about Mr Havelock, her tone changed. It was clear to Helen that she did not like the man.

‘Obviously, I didn’t tell him I knew that wasn’t the case.’ Dr Eris regarded Helen. ‘I told him that I had just about weaned her off most of her medication.’ She let out a sharp laugh. ‘I was feeling so positive about Henrietta’s progress. She’d been on some pretty heavy drugs – and treatment.’ She paused, thinking of the electric-shock therapy. ‘For years.’

Helen was listening intently. For the first time since getting to know Dr Eris, she realised that she was totally dedicated to the job she did. Claire might be a total cow when it came to her personal life, but in her professional life she was clearly a caring person.

As if reading her thoughts, Dr Eris said, ‘I love my job, you know. And my patients.’ She smiled sadly. ‘Probably more than I do normal people.’

Helen looked at her nemesis. She’d just caught a glimpse of humanity in the woman she despised, and it shocked her.

‘So, why the sugar pills?’ Helen asked.

Dr Eris arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

‘Your grandfather made it absolutely clear he was not at all happy that Henrietta was off her medication. He said if I didn’t comply with his demands, I’d find myself out of a job and unable to get another anywhere else.’

‘So you lied,’ said Helen.

‘I did,’ said Dr Eris. She gave Helen a bleak look.

‘If it comes out that I’ve been giving Henrietta sugar pills, I’ll be struck off. And if I’m not struck off, I’m sure your grandfather will make good his threats.’

Helen nodded. ‘That’s guaranteed.’ She gave Dr Eris a look that she hoped conveyed her sincerity. ‘Thanks, Claire. Thanks for doing that for Grandmama.’

‘She’s a lovely woman,’ Dr Eris said, her eyes pooled with sadness. ‘I really hope she pulls through.’

‘Me too,’ said Helen. ‘Me too.’