Page 59 of The Forgotten Boy

She was surprised to find Beth in the scullery, standing in the open doorway and speaking to someone in the yard.

“Who’s here?” Diana asked sharply, coming up to Beth’s shoulder.

“Mrs. Murray,” Beth said, at the same moment Diana recognized Joshua’s mother.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Diana said, glad to see that Beth was also wearing her mask. “We must keep quarantine until everyone’s well.”

“Yes, Joshua telephoned. I understand. I also understand that only two adults can be relied upon to remain healthy, so how exactly do you propose to care for twenty people on your own?”

“Not all the students are sick, and only one of the staff.”

“Today. What about tomorrow? I’m not proposing to force my way inside to nurse. But what I can do is relieve you of some responsibilities. Like meals. Alice and I can cook at home and bring it here. We have a fairly reliable motorcar. That will allow Mrs. Willis to help in the sickroom as needed—if she isn’t already ill. She looks a bit feverish to me.”

Diana took Beth by the arm and even without touching her face knew Mrs. Murray was right—fever burned through Beth’s sleeve. “Damn it,” she said, then instantly added, “I’m sorry, Beth. How’s your throat?”

“Painful,” she admitted. “But I can stay on my feet. It’s not like I can make any of the boys sicker than they are.”

“No, Mrs. Murray is right. You go straight to the infirmary, and I’ll be right there to check you over.” She waited until the secretary had gone, then turned back to Mrs. Murray. “I suppose I have little choice but to accept your offer. I’ll leave this door unlocked. Whatever you bring you can carry into the scullery and leave. Ring the bell to let us know you’ve come. And you should wear a mask even at that. I can leave you some in the scullery.”

She paused, hearing her own rattle of impersonal orders, and added, “I truly appreciate it. How can I thank you?”

“My son survived the war with both legs intact—and some of that is due to you. I trust Joshua is being useful in return?”

Useful, necessary, absolutely essential to my peace of mind and heart. “Very.”

“You’ll leave me word if he gets ill?”

“I will.” Diana wanted to cross her fingers or throw salt over shoulder to ward away ill fortune at the thought of Joshua struggling to breathe.

She managed to snatch an hour of sleep before helping feed broth to the boys who could manage it. She had to admit that Luther Weston continued to be both helpful and remarkably silent. Any snide comments he might make these days were made out of her hearing and she figured Joshua could handle himself.

In the makeshift infirmary Beth Willis lay in the bed nearest her younger son, Austin. She could stay there for now, but Diana was prepared to separate them if either took a turn for the worse. Dr. Bennett didn’t make it to Havencross that evening, but she felt mildly confident that they’d make it through the night. Besides Weston, she had Mrs. McCann and Clarissa Somersby helping in shifts. She had detailed Joshua to watch over the five boys who were still uninfected, including Jasper Willis, who had been carried to a room closer to his schoolmates.

As the clock passed midnight, Diana walked the center aisle. There were two boys she was keeping a close eye on whose breathing concerned her. One of them seemed to have eased while he slept, but she could hear stridor breathing from a thirteen-year-old orphan named Percy Nicholson. When Diana pressed her stethoscope to his chest, his eyes fluttered open.

“How are you, Percy?” she asked softly.

It took a moment for him to focus on her. “I’m … tired.”

Her heart sank as he had to stop and catch his breath just to say two words. She rearranged his pillows to prop him higher until she could get Weston to boil some water and try to ease his lungs with steam. She’d give it an hour more, but then it might be time to call the hospital and get him admitted.

She laid her hand on the boy’s cheek. “Go back to sleep for now.”

She had hardly stood up when she heard a voice coming from the opposite end of the hall. At first it was incoherent, and she thought one of the boys must be mumbling in his sleep. But as she paced quickly down the aisle, she made out the words. Except it wasn’t words, it was a name—spoken in a voice that made Diana’s blood run cold.

“Thomas … Thomas?”

Clarissa sat up where she had fallen asleep in her clothes on the last bed to the left. As Diana approached her, she swung her legs off the bed. Even in the darkened space her eyes glittered, focusing on something only she could see.

“Clarissa.” Diana used her softest voice, as she did with the boys. “Are you all right?”

“Where are you?” Clarissa whispered urgently.

Moving slowly so as not to startle her, Diana touched her hand to Clarissa’s hot forehead.

“Clarissa, can you lie back down for me? I need to take your temperature.”

She almost jumped when the headmistress clutched her hand, hard enough to hurt. “Did you see him?”

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