‘It’s Papa. He ... he collapsed.’ Julianne’s bottom lip trembled. ‘The doctor says he is gravely ill.’
Serena searched her face for any sign of doubt. ‘Take me to him.’
‘The fever is too high.’ Julianne filled her in as Serena rushed to Papa’s room. ‘We don’t know what to do.’ Her voice cracked on the last few words as the truth of her admission assaulted her. ‘What shall we do, Serena? How will we go on without him?’
Serena whirled on her sister and gripped her arm. ‘Papa will not die, Julianne. Go and heat the kettle on the stove and prepare tea for us. Settle yourself.’
With a deep, shaky breath, Julianne nodded and headed to the kitchen, wiping at her tear-stained face.
Serena stood outside the sickroom for a moment to compose herself. Her nerves fluttered, and a lump had grown in her throat. Papa’s condition couldn’t be as serious as that, surely. She wiped her damp hands on her skirt and pushed the door open.
An atmosphere of fear hung in the bedroom. Rachel sat beside the bed, holding Papa’s hand, without expression, shadows beneath her eyes. How long since she had slept or eaten? Serena’s eyes shifted to the shape of her father lying still, his skin pale as death, and his breath shallow and raspy.
‘Oh, Papa.’ Serena leaned over the bed and brushed a hand over his head. It was so hot. And dry. She lifted her eyes to her sister. ‘How long has he been sick?’
Rachel shrugged, miserable. ‘A few days. But he is much worse today.’
‘Julianne mentioned that the doctor has been. What did he say?’
‘Only that we should do our best to keep him cool, and that he’d come back and check on Papa tomorrow.’ Rachel’s face crumpled. ‘His face was so grim, Serena, I don’t think he held much hope for Papa.’
‘Nonsense.’ The word came out harsher than intended, but she needed to halt the running fear her sisters were allowing. Serena looked Rachel in the eye. ‘You are tired and worrying too much. I want you to refresh yourself. Find nourishment, even if all you manage is a piece of fruit or a slice of bread. We will be of no help to Papa if we starve and exhaust ourselves. I’ll stay here until you return.’
Rachel’s eyes widened, but she did not argue. With a deep sigh, she let go of Papa’s hand and rose from her position. ‘Please call me if there are any changes.’
‘Of course, my love.’ That went without saying.
Once her sister left the room, Serena reached to collect a cloth from the bowl of water next to the bed. Wringing it out, she dabbed at her father’s brow. Why did she have to leave from one heart-breaking environment only to come home to another? No, that was just selfish thinking. Serena pushed the thought deep down. Her focus needed to be on her family now. Edward had cast her out. There was no choice but to leave his care with his family, and of course, with God.
And so, the hours crept by, the three sisters rotating turns to eat and rest. Although, Serena rarely left the bedroom for long. Papa was her responsibility. Instead, she often dozed while sitting in the chair by his bed, or spent time praying for him and for Edward. It was too much for her sisters to bear, seeing Papa thrashing or mumbling in delirium. Often it sent them into fits of tears and so Serena would send them away.
This sudden illness of Papa’s brought back painful memories of when Mama had passed. She had been sick with the dropsy for several years, but in the end, her heart failed completely. Just as now, the family had held vigil beside her bed, knowing they were sharing their last moments with her. Somewhere in the early hours of one morning, before the birds had started their morning call, Mama had stirred and opened her eyes. Strength came to her hands as she returned the clasp of their hold. ‘My dear, dear girls.’ Mama’s voice was as cracked and dry as her lips.
Serena had reached for a glass of water, and with one hand behind Mama’s head, raised her a little to sip.
‘Thank you, my love.’
She had knelt beside the bed, and Papa did the same. He placed one hand on Mama’s shoulder, and with the other, caressed the hair at her temples. ‘My darling. It is good to see you.’
Mama had attempted a feeble smile, but then a hacking cough shook her body, taking her energy again. Her eyes closed.
Serena and her sisters poured out their love while they had the chance. The girls spoke words of endearment and encouragement. Serena could not have been more proud of her family in the way they handled that tragic, but special time. Papa had continued to stroke her face and added his affection often. Mama occasionally nodded or mumbled her thanks, letting them know she heard everything.
‘Serena, my girl.’ Mama had drawn her attention with the barest of whispers.
She had leaned down so her ear was near her mother’s mouth. ‘Yes, Mama?’
‘Take care of them. You are strong. You can do it.’ Her hand had fluttered up to find Serena’s cheek.
‘Yes, Mama,’ Serena swallowed, grief making a lump in her throat. Tears welled and dripped onto her mother’s pillow.
‘Good girl.’
Mama’s eyes flicked open and sought Papa. ‘My dearest. Thank you for loving me all these years, even in my weakness. Don’t weep for me too long. You have a life to live. I’ll not expect you to mourn forever. Be happy, my love.’ She sighed and sunk back into the pillow. ‘Be happy.’
Within moments they knew she was gone. One burden had lifted to be replaced with another. They suffered watching her deteriorate, but now they suffered from her loss and the sense of floating adrift, with no anchor on which to hold. The
