Chapter 18- Stone Cold
Scarlett’s ill health didn’t stay with her, soon her mother and father too came down with the poor health though her mother was recovered fully not even one week after she fell sick.
Her father however was bad, he had fits and fevers daily and Scarlett was kept away from him when she was eventually let out of bed herself. Her mother blamed her for her father’s condition and claimed that he would die but as Scarlett never saw him she could never see how true her mother was.
Doctor Freeman took to visiting almost daily though Letty missed noticing this as she was mostly busying herself enjoying the outdoors (now turned white from the mid December blizzards) which she had been missing for a month. However she was always seen leaving the house wrapped in coats and furs with gloves and hats provided to stop her from getting a chill, she no longer rejected stockings and socks although they always returned ripped and laddered which sent Gladys muttering of spoilt brats and wastage.
One particularly bitter pale day Scarlett was sitting at the dining table eating her breakfast alone (Her and Nate had been inseparable since their violent behaviour caused them both such pain though Nate still did not like to come downstairs where anyone else might be) when her mother burst through the door all of a twitter with excitement.
‘Your father is healthy enough to move from his bed and Doctor Freeman says he recommends him some fresh air and movement!’ Scarlett placed her fork neatly on the table and smiled at her mother.
‘That is good news.’ She commented lightly. ‘Shall I be in for luncheon to mark the occasion?’ Agnes’s eyes lit up at this idea.
‘Of course! A family meal.’ A family meal? Scarlett thought to herself, what kind of charade shall this be exactly? And for whose benefit? Agnes’s expression lightened further and she declared ‘Why! He shall be fit as a fiddle in time for Christmas!’
‘He shall be fully healed in five days time?’ Scarlett asked, though her shock was not at the idea of this but instead at the care Agnes seemed to be exhibiting for her husband.
‘Why ever not? I should not like to be a widow! I should sound older than my years! And if he is well in three we can ask over the Bradfords! Oh how I shall love this Christmas! If the occasion is jolly then I don’t see why Lewis should not propose to you! Oh I am so happy! My world could be so completely solved in six days time!’ I I I! Does she have no concern for anyone else? I now see that she only wishes father well for her own sake! Selfish wretch.
‘Indeed it could.’ Scarlett murmured as her mother practically waltzed out of the room. She reached to pick up her fork again and stared down at her plate of neatly cut fruit for a few minutes before throwing her fork down with such a temper that a crack split the plate in two but the girl barely noticed as she clanked out of the room.
The next five days followed with no spectacular event as all that occurred was Agnes’s oblivious selfishness got worse and worse and Scarlett tried so hard to be at her father’s side as his condition grew worse and worse. By the Christmas day, which Agnes had promised to be her own haven, the poor man was hot and cold with fever whilst wincing constantly from pains in his head, ears and throat.
Even so Luther was downstairs to witness Gladys in her best maroon silk frock, Clara the cook above stairs with an anxious gaze on her plump aged face, Emerson looked more fretful than ever about Luther’s health, Agnes making herself stupid with mulled wine and Scarlett biting her lip until blood mingled with her red lipstick whilst casting worried glances at both her parents. The black faced family had not been invited to the celebrations but they were usually content enough to stay together in the small stone gatehouse whenever they could.
Thankfully the Bradfords had not been invited either, as this would have driven everyone but Agnes over the edge but Agnes proved herself to be equally as tiresome as the two potential guests put together. She left the room at regular intervals and came back wide eyed and dim-witted, giggling and tripping whilst being convinced that no one suspected her ridiculous abuse of powders. Luther sat with a creased forehead next to the wireless listening intently to the fuzzy voices that floated from it. Eventually Scarlett couldn’t take it anymore and stood up and walked to the door forgetting how her mother got when under the effect of cocaine.
‘Where are you going?’ Agnes snapped.
‘I feel tired’ Scarlett said gently. ‘I just wanted to have a rest for a while’ and to speak to Nate, I need his presence, this combination deprivation and hellish company shall have me mad any minute! ‘I should be no more than an hour.’ She smiled pleasantly at her mother and continued to place her hand in the door handle.
‘No!’ Agnes shrieked. ‘It is Christmas and we shall be a family!’ Scarlett narrowed her eyes at her mother.
‘We have not been a family for nearly two years now Mother. You made sure of that when you cast my brother from our previous house in such a careless and loveless manner. So why do you think that one day that is set apart from all others due to a name should suddenly change the status of our bonds?’ Scarlett’s voice was calm and honest but the three remaining staff drew in their breath and bit their tongues as Agnes’s forehead creased and she proceeded to throw her glass at the wall just above Scarlett’s pretty head.
‘Bitch!’ She yelled with the hottest temper we have yet seen apart from that of Scarlett herself and of course Nate. Luther then decided that he could stand no more and so shakily yet defiant stood and made his way slowly to the door himself whilst Emerson walked between the two ladies, staring at them with blatant disbelief and disapproval and went to help the master.
‘I hope ye are both ‘appy!’ He cried. ‘You have disturbed Mas’er Crawford with your tantrums and have tain’ed a joyful occasion. Ha! Joy is not for this place!’ At which point Agnes waved Emerson away and laughed.
‘Shut up!’ She cackled ‘You say nothing and know nothing, tend to your master and remember your place!’ Scarlett sent one last glare to her mother and followed Emerson out of the room though she took the back servant’s stairs up to her room rather than the main ones, she did not want to speak to her father. She let the door creak open, the room seemed a little darker than usual but that was probably due to the outside surroundings being so white and bright with freshly lain snow. Nate was lolling across a settee in her sitting room, staring at the beams and twiddling with his thumbs.
‘What was the degree of the disaster this time Letty?’ She grimaced.
‘It was rather terrible. I said that I felt that we have no family here, in front of my parents and the servants.’ Nate made a noble attempt to hide his smile and did not do a half bad job at this feat.
‘I would insult you but I rather fancy that your vulgar mother must have provoked you somehow.’ Scarlett sighed and put a hand to her forehead. ‘Your family is becoming predictable to me, I am just glad that I could never call it my own.’
‘It is hardly a family.’ Nate finally tore his gaze from the ceiling to look at Scarlett.
‘You do feel guilty for these declarations don’t you? Even though your mother has been too terrible to you for too long?’
‘I feel guilty for ruining my father’s day when he had made the effort to force himself from bed despite his ill health. I do care for my father, he has always been good to me. And I suppose I always did take that for granted as I branded him and my mother as similar even though truthfully they are not.’ Nate took hold of Letty’s hand.
‘Then go and apologise, he is the best person in this house. He should not hesitate to forgive you and will respect you for your commendable actions.’ He said kindly. Scarlett smiled, squeezed Nate’s hand and left the room. She played out different versions of the conversation that was about to happen in her head before she reached the landing, imagining him smiling and telling her not to worry before moving onto more humorous subjects.
‘Father?’ Scarlett tapped on the door lightly, but there was no reply. ‘Father?’ she asked again. ‘I came to apologise, for my behaviour earlier. I did not mean those things I said!’ slowly she tried the door handle and walked into the room. Her father was lying in bed, wrapped in more than a dozen different kinds of blankets with the fire roaring. He lay very still, he was probably sleeping. Scarlett knew that she should probably go but something pulled her forward to speak with the middle aged sleeper.
His face was set strangely, one could not tell whether the man was smiling or not though he was clearly the epitome of indifference, as he always was. Scarlett could not help but smile, he always so peaceful and loving though his speech never never marked it. He did not love her as a father would love a daughter but as a distant friend that one might never lose touch with. Scarlett kneeled at his bedside and shook his shoulder, he felt cooler than a normal person and his head lolled suspiciously. He did not even stir.
‘Father?’ Scarlett asked again but there was still no response, she grabbed at his wrist and felt for a pulse but she found nothing. Growing desperate Scarlett tried to pull the man into an upright position but his body slumped against the pillows lifelessly, she hugged him tightly with her ear against his chest waiting for a heartbeat that never came. She wept and shuddered with inward pain until she fell into a dark haunted sleep.
Soon she was awakened by the door opening forcefully and she looked up to see Emerson standing in the doorway holding a brown glinting bottle and a tarnished silver spoon. He saw Scarlett’s eyes starry with tears as she turned to gaze at him.
‘He’s dead!’ she managed to utter. A gentle sob escaped her before she spoke again. ‘He is dead!’ She shrieked as she grabbed at her fathers shirt, her head bent over him as she suffered. She grew oblivious to everything that happened around her, she faintly heard footsteps and people rushing around. She heard people agreeing that Doctor Freeman should be sent for though there was nothing that he could do now. She heard felt hands trying to prise her own from their grip on her deceased father and then eventually someone lifted her and carried her to bed where she huddled in silent pain, after a while Nate joined her and sat by and held her hand until the sun rose as in her head played out different versions of the conversations that would never happen.
