Page 87 of The Pearl Sister
‘How say you we take the kids on the cart to the beach?’ Drummond suggested.
‘Surely not?’
‘Riddell Beach is well away from the town. And I think a breath of fresh air will do us all good,’ he added.
Kitty was as desperate as he to leave the house, so she packed up a small picnic and they set off, Drummond taking the longer way round to avoid going through the town.
Kitty sat on the soft sand as Drummond removed his clothes and went into the water in a pair of long johns.
‘Sorry, but it has to be done,’ he teased her. ‘Come on, kids, race you to the water!’
She watched Charlie and Cat shouting and screaming as Drummond played with them in the shallows. She was glad to be out of the oppressive atmosphere of the house, but was disturbed by the facsimile of a family outing with a man who was not cowed by the rules of society, who looked like Andrew, but was not Andrew. A man who knew how to laugh, and live in the moment.
And yes, Kitty confessed to herself finally, she wished with all her heart that things were different.
When they arrived back home, Camira was already in the kitchen, her face full of relief. ‘Fred be fine now.’
‘Thank God,’ Kitty said as she gave Camira a hug. ‘Right, let’s get these children into the tub and think about supper.’
In the small hours of the night, Kitty felt sick and feverish. Then her stomach began to cramp and she only just made it to the privy, which was where Camira found her the following morning, collapsed on the floor.
‘Mister Drum! Come-a quick!’
Perhaps she dreamt Camira screaming at Drummond, ‘Nottum hospital, Mister Drum! Many people sick! Go gettum medicines, we takem care of Missus Kitty here.’
She opened her eyes to see Andrew’s face – or maybe it was Drummond’s – urging her to sip some salty liquid that made her gag, then vomit, and noticed that a foul, acidic smell hung permanently in the air.
Gentle hands washed her down with cool water as her stomach contracted again and again. She dreamt then of floating off to join Camira’s ancestors who lived in the sky, or maybe God himself . . . Once, she opened her eyes and there was an angel, shimmering white in front of her, offering her a hand. A beautiful high-pitched voice was singing in her ear.
It would be nice,she thought with a smile,to be free of the pain.
Then another figure appeared in front of the angel, telling her to ‘Fight, my darling Kitty. Don’t leave me now, I love you, I love you . . .’
She must have slept again, for when she opened her eyes, she could see small horizontal chinks of light appearing from behind the shutters.
‘Why did no one close the curtains?’ she murmured. ‘I always close them. Helps keep out the heat . . .’
‘Well, your majesty, please do forgive my tardiness. I’ve had other things on my mind just recently.’
Drummond stood over her, his hands clasped to his waist. He looked dreadful: pale and haggard, with dark purple rings visible under his eyes.
‘Welcome back to the land of the living,’ he said to her.
‘I dreamt an angel came to take me up to the heavens . . .’
‘I’m sure you did. We nearly lost you, Kitty. I thought you were giving up. However, it looks to me like God didn’t want you yet, and sent you back.’
‘Perhaps there is a God after all,’ she whispered as she tried to sit up, but then she felt horribly dizzy and lay back down on the pillows.
‘Nowthatis a conversation we’ll have another time, after I’ve taken a nap. You seem lucid – up to a point – and you haven’t messed the bed for a whole twelve hours,’ Drummond declared.
‘Messed the bed?!’ Kitty closed her eyes and used what little energy she had to turn away from him, full of horror and embarrassment.
‘Cholera is a messy disease. Don’t worry, I left the room when you and the sheets were changed. Camira did all that. Although I admit that if you had died, I was about to go to the police station and insist they arrest her for the murder of her mistress. When I tried to take you to the hospital, she fought like a tiger to restrain me. She’s convinced that “whitefella” hospitals are full of disease, which, in truth, they probably are. If you don’t die of your own bacteria in an epidemic, you’re likely to die of your neighbour’s. In the end, she wore me down and I agreed, God help me.’
‘An angel was in here, I swear . . .’
‘Are you delirious again, Kitty? I do hope not.’ Drummond raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I will leave you to your talk of angels and go and tell Nurse Camira that you are alive and could be very well soon.’
