A Strong Hand to Hold. Anne Bennett
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‘Can we argue about this at home?’ Gerry interrupted. He turned to the doctor and said, ‘Whatever is decided, Jenny needs treatment I’d say, and if she stays here much longer, she’ll die from the cold.’
So saying he lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all and stilled her protests. ‘Be quiet, Jenny, you have to get your injuries treated, some food inside you and some clothes to cover you, before any decision is reached.’
‘I’m going back,’ Jenny said mutinously.
‘We’ll see.’
‘I am!’
‘All right,’ Gerry snapped back. ‘But let’s take one thing at a time.’
He was striding down the road as he spoke and Jenny relaxed when she realised she wasn’t being taken all the way home, only to her gran’s house. Maureen and the doctor were following behind. Once inside, Dr Sanders quickly washed the dust and grit from her and bandaged her arms, hands and legs and put salve on her face, and the smarting pain of it all subsided a little.
Then, dressed in thick trousers, shirt, pullover and boots, she was given a bowl of Irish stew, a cup of tea so strong the spoon could have stood up in it on its own, and was sat before the fire. The latter was nearly her undoing. The crawl through the tunnel and back had taken it out of her mentally and physically, and with a full stomach and the heat of the fire, Jenny felt incredibly drowsy. Her eyelids were so very heavy; surely she could shut them for a wee minute or two …
Suddenly she jerked herself back to wakefulness. How long had she slept – an hour, half an hour, a few minutes? She had no way of knowing. The clock now showed just after two o’clock in the morning.
She looked around at her gran and the doctor accusingly, knowing they would have let her sleep till morning and not tried to wake her. ‘I can’t believe you let me drop off like that,’ she said.
‘Cutie child, you’ve done enough,’ Maureen said.
Jenny made an impatient movement with her hand. ‘Linda Lennox is just twelve years old and has lost all belonging to her. She’s lain for hours, cold, frightened and alone in total darkness, injured and in constant pain. I promised her I would go back and I will. I’ve never broken a promise in my life and I think this is the most important one I’ve ever made.’ She looked at the doctor and said, ‘I wouldn’t answer for Linda’s mental condition if she’s left much longer in that place alone. I said I’d try and get her something for the pain too.’
‘But now we know where she is, it won’t be long till she’s out,’ the doctor said. ‘They were ordering heavy lifting gear when we left.’
‘Don’t treat me like an idiot,’ Jenny said desperately. ‘You know as well as I do, it will be hours yet. The stairs pinning Linda to the pantry floor are holding up the whole of the upper floor and part of the other house is leaning against it too. It will be some time before she’s reached, let alone rescued.’
‘But at least she will be rescued now,’ he said. ‘You did well detecting her.’
‘I did well?’ repeated Jenny. ‘That girl is almost delirious with pain, and when they eventually lift the stairs off her legs … well, I don’t think she’ll stand it. She needs something to kill the pain, and as soon as possible, I’d say.’
Dr Sanders regarded Jenny shrewdly. ‘I can’t get in there to give her an injection – you know that,’ he said. ‘Surely you’re not proposing you administer it?’
‘Have you a better idea?’
‘It would be incredibly dangerous.’
‘It’s all incredibly dangerous,’ Jenny said dismissively. ‘She’s not lying in a feather bed at this minute either.’
Maureen was open-mouthed at the way Jenny was attacking the doctor. She’d never heard her speak that way to anyone before. She hoped the man would put it down to shock and not be offended. Jenny didn’t seem to care if he was or not, because she cried out, ‘She needs help now! Why can’t you realise that?’
‘Hush, mavourneen,’ Maureen said, dropping down on her knees before the settee and gathering her weeping granddaughter into her arms. ‘Everyone knows about the wee wean and sure it’s terrible news, so it is. But why does it have to be you that goes back in?’
Jenny wiped the tears away and said, ‘Because I’m small, Gran, the only one that has any chance. There were even places I was nearly stuck too.’ She gave a shuddering sigh and went on, ‘I’m the only one who can keep her company.’
‘But the whole place could collapse on top of you both,’ Dr Sanders said gently.
Jenny swallowed the terror she had of going back into the dreadful tunnel and retorted, ‘I know all that. What I want to know is, are you going to help me, or sit up all night talking about it?’
Dr Sanders remembered suddenly the first time he’d seen Linda Lennox. She’d come into his surgery with half a crown in her cardigan pocket which he could guess was all the money she had in the world, and asked him if it were enough for him to visit her mother who’d collapsed. He’d seen the family many times since, and been impressed by the courage of both the mother and daughter. Linda was the same slight build as Patty, with a little elfin face, deep blue-grey eyes, a dainty nose and a fine mouth; her rich brown hair was wavy and fell to her shoulders, but her chin was well defined and Dr Sanders knew her to be a determined little thing.
But he also knew she’d been devoted to her younger brothers and she’d had a special bond with her mother. He couldn’t begin to comprehend the depth of her loss, or how she’d cope with it. He also knew she’d be very frightened, and if anyone needed a friend at this moment, it was Linda Lennox. Surely if the O’Leary girl was brave enough to go back in that tunnel, he was brave enough to trust her to administer morphine to alleviate the child’s pain. Really there was no other option anyway.
So in the end Jenny had her way, although most were astonished that she was going back to stay with the child because of a promise she had made. At last one of the official rescue workers, who’d appeared with lifting gear, saw her determination and knew she wasn’t to be dissuaded. ‘At least go better equipped this time,’ he said. ‘You know it might take hours before we reach you.’
‘I know.’
She was given a flashlight which she could push in front of her into the tunnel and a water bottle which was strapped to her back. High-energy biscuits used by the Forces were tucked into one of the breast pockets of her shirt, and a blanket was tied to her belt so that she could drag it behind her.
In the other breast pocket, she carried the precious morphine injection. The doctor was still apprehensive as he measured out the dose. ‘I’m worried about giving her too much,’ he said. ‘She’s quite slight as well as small for her age.’
‘She’s in terrible pain,’ Jenny reminded him.
‘Even so … Just try and keep her alert. Don’t let her sleep if you can help it. Keep talking to her.’
‘Yes, all right,’ Jenny said. She was impatient to be on her way before further objections could be raised.
She