Every movement made him wince. Every part of his body screamed out for the pain to be relieved. It was difficult to focus; he couldn’t see out of one eye at all. At first he did not know where he was, then he remembered. He was in the grand new infirmary that had been built just beyond the western wall of the town. The dour young Scots doctor had told him that. A young boy had apparently found him bleeding in the gutter in, ironically, Love Lane. Lucky to be alive was the doctor’s considered opinion. Shouldn’t mix with such bad sorts was the doctor’s unasked-for advice.
Jack turned his head. The stab of pain told him that wasn’t a good idea. The large, sparse walls gave the room an airy, if dismal, feel. The other inmates, in two long rows of rough wooden beds, spent their time either groaning or making no noise at all. One of them had been so quiet for so long that it was no surprise when his rigid body was carted out of the room.
The young doctor breezed in through the door and made straight for Jack’s bed. The permanent, disapproving glumness had vanished. He was positively beaming. ‘Flyford, I have a visitor for you.’ And with what passed as a wink, he added, ‘She’s a lady.’ Bessie, thank goodness, thought Jack. It will be good to see her again.
The aches that racked his battered body melted away when Catherine Balmore glided through the door. The beautiful, pale face screwed up in horror when she saw Jack’s badly beaten features. ‘Oh, Jack, how awful!’
‘He will mend soon enough, madam,’ put in the doctor, who still hovered near the bed.
‘That is good news. At first, I heard that you were dead, Jack.’
‘It was what…’ Jack couldn’t continue. It was too difficult to speak through his swollen lips.
‘I think it is best if he does not speak, dear lady.’ I wish that doctor would sling his hook, Jack thought irritably. ‘What the young man needs is rest.’
No I don’t, Jack protested mutely. I want Catherine to sit here for ever; talk to me, touch me, let her soft hands soothe my broken body.
‘Of course, doctor. I must not tire poor Jack.’ She leant down and kissed his forehead gently. ‘The others at the theatre were most concerned about you, especially Mr Southby. Mr Spong took your part in the play, which has been a great success and will run for an extra two performances. Mr Courtney is most…’ Catherine hesitated and looked at Jack and instantly knew what was going through his mind at the mention of that name. ‘He is most pleased,’ she finished quietly.
Jack was left remembering the parting, sympathetic smile while the doctor over-attentively ushered Catherine out of the ward. Suddenly, he was aware that the room was totally silent. Turning his head ever so slowly, he saw two rows of faces staring at him, many with envious grins. Jack lay back with a contented smirk and relived the kiss before falling asleep.
His next visitor, the following day, was Bessie. She was not happy to hear, via the doctor, that Catherine Balmore had already been to see him. Bessie’s manner was cool. She told Jack that she had been twice before when he had been unconscious, and had sat at his bedside. Yet it was that strumpet Balmore, who had shown little interest in his wellbeing before, who was the first to speak to him. Jack was annoyed at Bessie’s constant sniping at Catherine. Now he was too tired to put up any defence, and his mouth still hurt when he spoke. But he was still glad to see Bessie, and when she had got Catherine out of her system, she showed touching concern. He liked the thought of her sitting by his bed while his body fought for its life – an angel of mercy. As she said her farewells, she bent over and kissed him on his forehead as Catherine had done. Her breasts wavered close to his face. Though he hadn’t the strength to do so, Jack felt the urge to grab them. He knew he must be recovering.
A week later, he was well enough to return to Acorn’s house, just in time for Christmas. During that week, Bessie had come every day. Angel Bright, Septimus Spong and Mr Southby had also paid visits. Significantly, thought Jack, Courtney had not. Sadly, Catherine Balmore had not come again. Little wonder the doctor had returned to his usual morose self by the time Jack climbed gingerly into the hired carriage to take him back to Bessie.
There was time for one more parting lecture. Bad company, strong drink and low women must be avoided. Regular prayer and attendance at church – as long as it wasn’t too “High” – would lead him down the path to righteousness. Jack thanked him and promised he would try his best, though, he added with a straight face, it might be difficult to keep his hands off Miss Balmore’s two most obvious charms. The doctor’s face lit up like a beacon and he hurried off in embarrassed confusion.