Chapter 14
Iris rested for the best part of a week, though she would have been up much earlier, had she been allowed her own way. Evelyn Iverson and Franny Kingman decided right from the start that they would keep her strictly under Doctor Carter’s orders until she was pretty well mended, and she was confined to her room, with the three little Kingman girls as guardians. Evelyn and Franny also sat with her quite a while at the start, because they were curious to see how she would fit with them, whilst David joined them in the evenings. But they soon realized that that the four got along famously. Harriet, the eldest Kingman girl, and not quite turned eleven, quickly began teaching Iris her letters, alongside Jemma and Ellen, though both Jemma and Ellen could sometimes be rather mischievous.
‘I think Mama expects it of me’, Harriet told Iris and her sisters with a very grave and serious expression on Iris’ third morning in bed. She was seated on a chair facing the bed, with Jemma on a second chair at her side, whilst Ellen sat close to Iris on the bed itself. ‘I think because I am the oldest Kingman daughter, I should set how things should be.’ Here she looked hard at both the younger girls. Iris had great difficulty stifling a giggle, because she could have sworn that Ellen promptly poked out just the tiniest tip of her little pink tongue. But does not like to sow dissension, especially if one is only a maidservant, albeit rather pampered.
‘You do agree, Iris, don’t you?’
Iris nodded with all the vigor that her aching body could muster. ‘Yes, m’m.’
Harriet inclined her head winsomely. ‘You need not stand on ceremony, Iris, not at all.’ She was using an expression she had heard her father use, and thought it tripped rather prettily from her tongue. ‘You may freely call me Harriet - at least when we are not in company.’ She added her second phrase rather hurriedly, because one can gain a good sense of one’s own significance at ten years, particularly when one is allowed to put one’s hair up in ringlets.
Iris nodded obediently. She was sure she had never heard a child speak so much like a grown person, but she admired Harriet all the more it. The Kingman girls came out of a different world to her. At ten she had been milking cows, and helping cut hay, baking biscuits, and washing clothes. But Harriet, Jemma, and Ellen wore fine clothes, and ate fancy food, and took their time about living.
‘Well, then, girls.’ Harriet looked down her nose at her companions, for she had a tendency to be rather schoolmistressy at times. ‘I think we must rehearse our tables.’
The four began to recite their multiplications, working from one to twelve, and then Harriet quizzed them on individual combinations, though Ellen shrieked with laughter when she herself stumbled.
‘’That’s very reprehensible of you, Ellen.’ Harriet looked stern, rehearsing another long word she had learned from her father, and pointed into the corner of the room, by the window looking out towards the railroad depot. ‘You must go into the corner.’
Ellen looked defiant. ‘I shall howl if I go, and make such a row that all the house will come running.’
Harriet looked a little non-plussed, and Iris moved quickly to defuse the confrontation. ‘I’m sure Miz Ellen didn’t mean to sass you, Miz Harriet.’ She glared at Ellen, who showed every sign of having wanted to do just that. ‘I’m sure Miz Ellen just laughed a little out of place.’
Ellen stuck out her chin rebelliously, and Iris shoved at her, speaking in a very audible stage whisper. ‘I’ll push you down on the floor if you don’ ‘pologise.’
Ellen hesitated, and she pushed again, looking at the youngest Kingman girl very fiercely.
Ellen surrendered grudgingly. ‘I’m sorry, Harriet.’
Iris pulled her hand back, so that Ellen could settle back into place. ‘She’s your eldest sister.’
Ellen made a face, and Harriet moved on quickly. ‘I think we will now read together.’
So the four read, and the three sisters helped Iris when she had to spell out words, because she was really pretty much on a level with Ellen, and Harriet showed off quite considerably, as a ten year old going on eleven might.
‘I’m sure they make the sweetest combination.’ Franny was speaking to Evelyn after watching one of these playschool sessions on Iris’ third morning in the house. ‘I believe Iris is really growing to love them in place of the child she lost.’
‘I think they are growing to love her too.’ Evelyn smiled fondly. ‘She is fast becoming an elder sister to them.’
‘They are smoothing some of the rough edges from her as well.’ Franny looked thoughtful. ‘I wonder what her husband will make of her, when he returns.’
‘Perhaps he will like the change, my dear.’
‘I doubt it. I think he will consider her different.’
Evelyn was silent, because Franny had put her very own thoughts into words. The three Kingman girls were now treating Iris as one of themselves, and it was plain Iris relished their acceptance. Evelyn wondered whether it had been such a good idea to bring her into the house – and yet David could have done little else, short of engaging someone to nurse Iris in her own cottage. She imagined Uriah might very well resent her changing. But it was not a thing any of them could turn back.
The following day Doctor Carter deemed Iris to be mending fast enough to take a short turn around her bedroom, and then out on to the landing, supported by Evelyn on one side, and Harriet on the other. Soon Iris was moving quite freely, though she still lacked the agility to descend any stairs.
‘She’s a strong young woman.’ Doctor Carter watched her approvingly. He was seated in a comfortable armchair that had been brought up to the room specially for his daily visits. ‘She’s making very good progress.’
Evelyn saw Franny wince slightly. Words can cut very deep, even when they are meant well. Doctor Carter must have noticed Franny’s movement as well, because he looked away quickly, before turning back to glance rather hard at Evelyn.
She rose quickly to her feet. ‘I’ll show you out, doctor.’
Doctor Carter hesitated as he opened the front door of the house to leave. ‘It’s a sad thing to watch someone fade away.’
‘You don’t think she has long?’
‘I have warned David to be prepared.’ Doctor Carter sighed. ‘She has been coughing a good deal, though she tries to hide it, and she is just coughing her life away.’
‘Will she still be with us at Thanksgiving?’
‘I would not like to say.’ He spoke slowly, in a low voice, and their conversation was a secret between them. ‘But I think not.’
Evelyn closed the door softly behind him, and stood holding on to the handle. She was not surprised, because she had seen Franny’s condition worsening progressively. But it is not easy to watch your own child slip away slowly, growing thinner and paler with each passing day, and to have to try and put a brave face on things, and be cheerful and even-tempered at times when you are only frightened, and angry with fate for being so cruel. She realized that she was crying, and mopped at her eyes with her handkerchief.
‘Is Mama dying?’
Evelyn started, and looked down. Harriet was standing between her and the bottom of the stairs, with a look of strangely adult compassion in her blue eyes.
Evelyn nodded without speaking, her heart too full for words.
‘She will go to heaven, and we will look after Papa.’
‘I know you will, Hetty.’ Evelyn sighed. ‘We must all be brave.’
‘Because she is being brave?’
Evelyn saw that her grand-daughter was also crying, but noiselessly, with two thin lines of glistening tears rolling down her cheeks. She nodded, and held out her hands. ‘Because she is being brave.’
Yet bravery is a hard virtue to practice when sorrow and fear hang like a dark cloud in a home. Evelyn and Harriet tried their very best to maintain normality. But Franny had to keep to her bed the next day, and was only able to spoon down a little chicken soup and a cup of weak tea. She lay propped up on her pillows, and her eyes were shadowed by large dark circles, whilst her hands stretched out on her comforter might have belonged to a ghost, they were so frail and pale.
Jemma and Ellen sat to either side of her bed, taking turns to read Charles Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare out loud, whilst Harriet sewed on a little embroidered sampler she had been meaning to present to her mother at Christmas, but now feared might be finished too late. Iris also sat in the room, mending some dropped hems in the girls’ dresses, for she was still quite a starter in her stitching, though she had a good eye and a true touch with her needle, whilst Evelyn sat deep in thought.
David Kingman joined them on his return from his day at the railroad depot. He was bright and cheerful when he arrived home, for a man always looks forward to eating a good dinner, and Eulalia had promised to cook him a good hearty venison stew from a cut of deer presented to him. The weather had begun to turn chilly of nights, and the thought of venison with dumplings appealed to him mightily. But his face fell when he stepped into Franny’s room.
Evelyn got to her feet. ‘Come, girls, we must allow your father and mother some time together.’ She looked at Iris as well as the three girls, and it was plain that she now regarded Iris virtually as a surrogate daughter.
Harriet, Jemma and Ellen trooped out of the bedroom looking very despondent, and Iris racked her brains for something to distract them. She smiled rather more brightly than she felt, limping to the top of the stairs. ‘I’m going to try and make it down to ‘Lalia.’
Evelyn caught her breath. ‘Is that wise, my dear? What about Doctor Carter – has he said you can do such a thing?’
The three Kingman girls looked alarmed.
‘I’m gonna try.’ Iris jutted her chin stubbornly. She was dressed in a plain gray woolen dress that Evelyn had given her, for they were both about the same height, though the dress hung rather loose on her, with a fine matching woolen shawl, and she was wearing flat shoes, also a gift from Evelyn, for fortunately their feet were very similar. ‘I jes’ gotta get ma feet right.’
She had fallen back into her Tennessee way of speaking, and there could be no doubt but that she was very determined. She tried going down the stairs frontwards, only to wince in pain at having to lower one foot in front of the other. It was too much for her. But she was not to be bested. She turned about, with her back to the stairs, holding to the banister and lowering her right foot experimentally. It was not a very pleasant exercise, but she decided after a moment that she could cope. She smiled up tightly at her audience. ‘See? I’m gettin’ there.’
Evelyn frowned, and held up her hand. ‘You stay right there.’ She stepped past Iris so that she was behind her, a couple of steps down, anchoring one hand firmly to the banisters. ‘Now come down, but slowly, one step at a time.’
Iris took a second experimental step. The three little Kingman girls watched her wide-eyed. Harriet thought she had never ever seen someone be so brave, apart from her mother.
Meanwhile David Kingman sat at Franny’s bedside, holding one of her hands in his, and stroking it gently with his other hand, all thoughts of venison stew quite flown.
‘I’m not going to be with you much longer, husband.’
David tried to smile reassuringly, though he had no smile in him. ‘You will get better in the spring.’
‘Doctor Carter has warned me to be ready.’
David sighed. Doctor Carter had spoken to him as well, and warned him to prepare for the worst. He tried to think of something consoling to say, but he could find nothing.
‘You must have Iris look after the girls: they are beginning to love her dearly.’
‘I will try, my dear.’ David paused, marshalling his words. ‘But her husband will be back next week.’
‘Oh.’ Franny’s eyes clouded. ‘Will he object to her looking after them?’
‘He might object to her living here.’
‘I see.’ Franny’s voice sank until it was little more than a whisper, and her husband had to lean close to make out what she was saying. ‘You mean he will want her to go back?’
‘She is his wife, my dear.’
‘But she would be so much happier with the girls.’
David Kingman was silent. There is something in every man that recoils instinctively from imminent death to seek out new life and a continuation, and he had steeled his mind to resist a temptation personified by strength and youth. He knew Iris for a young woman with a strong character, possessed of the animal attraction of fecundity, and had deliberately closed his mind to her. Both Franny and her mother had described her as a ‘fine young woman’ and it had seemed almost as they were combining in a conspiracy to replace a dying force in his life with a living one. But he loved his wife, and he held to his commitments.
Eulalia served gloomy dinners that night. David Kingman ate with Evelyn and the three girls in the Kingman diningroom, whilst Eulalia served Iris in the kitchen. Eulalia already knew both that Franny was dying, and that Iris’ husband would soon return, and the burden of this knowledge grieved her.
‘Yo’ gwine back to yo’re lil’ house out theah?’ She gestured vaguely in the direction of the cottage out back of the house.
Iris was silent. She had never talked about Uriah to anyone, and it was doubly hard for her to discuss him both with a stranger and a person of color. Then she nodded slowly. ‘I guess so.’
Eulalia opened her mouth to speak again, and then thought better of it. Sometimes questions serve only to irritate, without engendering any response. She liked Iris, and wished her well, because she saw goodwill in her and resolve. But she also realized that she intended shielding herself, with a strength not to be contested. Yet Eulalia also possessed a very big heart, and she knew of Iris’ circumstances, and the loss of her child.
‘I hope all works out fer the best, honey.’
Iris looked up at her, and Eulalia saw tears glisten on her eyelashes before she dashed them away. ‘I hope so too.’
Evelyn went back up to sit with Franny after dinner, so that David would have some time with his daughters. The three girls wanted to accompany her, but she shook her head.
‘You tell your father about what you have learned today. Your mother must rest as much as she can, and she must not be excited.’
She saw Harriet brush at her eye, and took her grand-daughter in her arms. ‘No, honey. Remember that we are being brave.’
She found Franny lying back on her pillows with her eyes closed, and for a moment she wondered whether her daughter had slipped quietly away on her own. But then Franny blinked weakly, holding out her hand.
‘I think I am going soon, mother.’
Evelyn felt tears well up in her, and patted Franny’s hand gently.
‘I wish …’ Franny began to speak, and then relapsed back into silence.
‘What do you wish, darling?’ Evelyn spoke, though she already had a very good idea of how Franny would reply.
‘I wish Iris could look after the girls after I am gone.’
‘But she will, I am sure of it.’
‘No, mother. I wish that she could be a mother to them.’
Evelyn shook her head gently. ‘That cannot be.’
‘I know, mother. But it is something I have dreamed.’
The two women, mother and daughter, were silent, their hands entwined. Both wished for the same succession, and both knew that it could not be.
Suddenly Evelyn started up. Someone was hammering on the door of the house with great urgency. She crossed the bedroom to the door, to come face to face with David Kingman, who was pulling himself into a long riding coat.
‘I must go out. There has been an accident on the line, some way north of here. An engine has jumped the curve at Barren River, just outside Glasgow, and it seems that there are fatalities.’
Evelyn caught her breath. ‘Fatalities?’
‘Yes, it seems that the engineer has been hurt, and the fireman has died.’
‘Fireman?’ Her voice was little more than a whisper.
‘It was Uriah.’ He paused. ‘I have told Iris very briefly that he is dead, and that I will bring back his body. She is outside on the landing with the girls.’
He crossed the room quickly to Franny. ‘I must go and see what we can do. Turner will be riding with me. I imagine we will be away some time.’
He bent to kiss her quickly, and the next moment he was gone.
Evelyn and Franny stared at each other.
‘It is a sign from the Almighty.’ Franny’s words were very low, and Evelyn had to bend forward over her daughter to make out what she was saying. She searched her mind for words.
‘She’s a fine girl.’
Franny whispered again. ‘I think the Lord is rewarding David for being a good man.’
‘Ssh.’ Evelyn pressed her pale, almost bloodless, fingers. ‘You must not think such a thing.’
‘But, mother, it is a sign.’ Franny struggled to sit upright, but the effort was too much for her, and she fell back in a prolonged fit of coughing, and now her handkerchief soaked up so much blood that she had to abandon it for a small towel that had been lying on her bedside table. ‘Iris will now be free to care for the girls.’
Evelyn had a momentary vision of Iris, robed in white, with Franny’s three little girls dressed as bridesmaids, but pushed it from her mind. She took a bottle of cough linctus from the bedside table, and filled a medicine glass. ‘Drink this, my dear, and try to sleep.’ She bent to kiss Franny on the forehead. ‘David will tell us everything when he returns.’
She watched Franny close her eyes, and sat in silence for a moment, her mind whirling. It is strange how a few words can change a whole perspective of life. She could never have wished such a dreadful fate on Uriah, but fate had intervened of its own volition, and by so doing had wholly reshuffled the future for them all. Yet, for a moment, a doubt nagged at her mind. Might it be possible that Iris would seek to fly on her own now that she was a free agent? Might she wish to return to her rural life? Evelyn turned the thoughts in her mind, assessing and judging them, and took assurance from her thinking. She had watched Iris grow close to Franny’s three daughters in a few short days, and seen warmth, and love, grow in them for her, until the four of them almost formed a family group.
She sighed. She was a practical woman, accustomed to dealing in realities, and the facts were all too plain. Franny now stood at death’s door, about to leave three small girls without a mother. Iris was now a widow needing a good husband: both to take her mind off her past, and help her build a future. She would make an ideal wife for David and mother to his children, were he to ask, and she to accept. Evelyn sighed again. Franny was now sleeping, although her breathing was ragged and stertorous. She turned towards the door, and the four waiting girls beyond it. Heaven had indeed sent a sign, and she prayed in her heart that providence would now map a way forward.
She found the four sobbing together quietly. Iris had managed to lower herself sufficiently to sit on the top step of the staircase, and held Ellen in her arms, pressing her head against her bosom, whilst Harriet and Jemma sat squeezed in on either side of her.
Harriet looked up. ‘Has Papa told you and Mama?’
Evelyn nodded without speaking. She realised that she had begun to cry as well, and mopped at her eyes.
Iris seemed to have drifted away into some kind of daze.
Evelyn wondered what she should do. They could not stay out on the landing, for it was both draughty and uncomfortable. But she did not want the girls to disturb Franny’s sleeping.
‘Bring the lil’ ‘uns down into the kitchen, miz Evelyn.’ A deep voice broke in on her. Eulalia stood at the bottom of the stairs, arms akimbo. ‘I got some nice hot soup, ready and tasty.’
Evelyn nodded, smiling a little damply. Eulalia viewed hot food as a sovereign remedy for all ailments, both visible and hidden. The kitchen would be warm and cheerful, and soup would lull the girls to sleep. She herself would take a chair in Franny’s room.
‘It’s in the pot, miz, if yo’ don’ mind servin’.’ Eulalia waved towards her stove. ‘Y’all git somepin inside of you, whilst I climb up and watch over Miz Franny.’ She paused, lowering her voice. ‘C’ld she mebbe tek’ some soup too?’
Evelyn shook her head. ‘I think not, ‘Lalia. But it is a kind thought. Call me if she stirs, and I will be back up in a minute.’
The four of them sipped at their bowls of soup in the kitchen, and it was reviving. Ellen sat on Iris’ lap, sharing her spoonfuls, and Evelyn thought to herself that she had never seen such a pretty domestic picture, for Iris seemed like a mother to the four-year-old. Harriet and Jemma were both very subdued.
Evelyn got to her feet when they had all finished, and smiled brightly, though she felt anything but bright.
‘Bedtime, girls.’
Ellen blinked at her sleepily. ‘Can we say our prayers with Iris, Grandma?’
Evelyn glanced at Iris, and Iris hugged Ellen against her.
‘I think that would be a very good idea.’
Iris smiled a little wanly. ‘It’s been a bad day, m’m.’
Evelyn took a deep breath. There was much in her mind that she wanted to say, and very little that she could risk saying safely. ‘We must look to the future, and trust in the Lord.’
A teenage ‘Amen’ replied, and two younger responses. But Ellen had fallen fast asleep.