“Brian stepped in as soon as he found out,” she said. “He brought the boy to live with him and started him working for the company as messenger boy. Made sure he worked him hard too so that he had no time for bad companions. But now what? I’d take him in, of course, but he doesn’t listen to an old woman. And Joseph—well, Joseph only cares about himself and money. And a fine sort of example he’d be for the boy. Look how Terrence has turned out.”
“He seems a pleasant enough young man to me,” I said.
She sniffed. “My dear. I can’t tell you the number of times his father has had to pay his bills—gambling debts, unpaid wine bills, girls he’s got in the family way. His mother has washed her hands of him, I can tell you. And even Brian could do nothing for once, because Jo wouldn’t let him take over the boy. They almost came to blows over it.”
She lifted the egg from the boiling water and found an eggcup. “You’ll no doubt want to take this up to him yourself,” she said.
I agreed and carried the tray upstairs. Daniel roused as I came into the room and I helped him into a sitting position. He was as weak as a kitten and lay back gasping as I propped pillows behind him.
“Try and get some of that egg down you,” I said. “You need building up now.”
“I can’t think how I let something like a little cold get the better of me,” he said. “And look at you—the picture of health.”
“Just you remember who the strong one is,” I said, smiling.
I paused, hearing a knock at the front door, then Mrs. Flannery’s voice.
“I hope that’s not Prescott again,” Daniel said. “I don’t feel in any state to speak to him now.”
Words were being exchanged downstairs. I couldn’t make them out but then I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I stepped out to intercept the visitor and found that it was the doctor.
“Mrs. Sullivan,” he said. “I’ve just been told the good news about your husband. So the fever broke by itself, did it? Oh, that is a relief. I have to tell you that I was expecting the worst this morning. I didn’t think the poor man would make it through the night.”
“Not only made it through the night but is currently eating breakfast,” I said and ushered him into the bedroom.
“You are a fortunate young man, sir,” he said to Daniel. “You clearly have a strong constitution to fight off the disease when it had such a grip on you.” He took out his stethoscope and started listening to Daniel’s chest. When he’d finished he nodded.
“Not out of the woods yet by any means,” he said. “There’s still a lot of fluid on the lungs. So no exertion, no excitement for a while yet. You’re not to move from this bed until I say so, and that’s an order.”
I followed him down the stairs. “Thank you for coming out in the night like that,” I said. “I’m so relieved. If I write out a telegram, I wonder could you arrange to have it sent from the telegraph office when you go back to town? I don’t want to leave him yet but I’d like his dear ones to know that he’s not going to die.”
The doctor shook his head and at first I thought he was refusing to send the telegram, but then he leaned closer to me. “I’d wait a little longer if I were you. He is not out of the woods yet. A relapse is all too possible with a disease like pneumonia. I’ve seen it many times. So hold off sending your good news for a while and make sure you keep him in bed, keep him quiet, on an invalid diet.”
“I will, don’t worry. You’ll be sending us the bill, will you?”
“I most certainly will. Extra money for being woken from my beauty sleep.” He smiled and patted my hand before he put his hat on his head and departed.
A young woman called Martha arrived soon after and Mrs. Flannery went back to the bickering at the big house. Daniel was asleep when I came to collect his tray, so I left Martha busy in the kitchen and went outside. I felt that I needed a breath of ocean air in my lungs after everything I’d been through that night. It was another perfect day for sailing, with a stiff breeze and puffy white clouds racing across a blue sky. I expected that Archie Van Horn was miffed that he couldn’t compete in his yacht races.
There was no sign of the family, nor of the gardeners and I strolled through the trees and down to the ocean front. Then I sat on a log and watched the sea birds and the waves. The sound of feet on gravel made me look up and there came the two little boys in their identical sailor suits, marching side by side at a great rate down the path, while their nursemaid struggled to keep up with them, gasping every now and then, “Slow down, boys. Do you hear me? Slow down.”