The Christmas Wedding. Dilly Court

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feet. ‘It’s the doctor, and Alfie’s sitting beside him in the trap. You’ll be all right now, Jack.’

       Chapter Five

      ‘You’ve done well, Daisy.’ Nick lifted Jack gently and placed him on the seat. ‘You’d best sit beside him,’ he added in a low voice. ‘We don’t want him to fall off and suffer even more damage.’

      Daisy nodded and climbed up to sit beside Jack, who was very pale and obviously in pain. ‘It’s all right, Jack, you’ll be home soon and Dr Neville will look after you.’ She glanced down at Danny and Alfie, who were watching intently. ‘I think you’d best go to school and tell your teacher there’s been an accident, but Jack is in good hands now.’

      Nick eyed them sternly. ‘Do as Miss Marshall says, and think twice next time you decide to wag school. Jack was fortunate – he only broke an arm – it could have been his neck.’ He leaped onto the seat and picked up the reins. ‘Walk on.’

      Jack was trembling, either from shock or the pain or both, and Daisy placed her arm round his shoulders, holding him close. ‘It was fortunate that Alfie met you on his way to the vicarage, Doctor.’

      Nick urged the horse to a trot. ‘I was called to tend to a difficult birth. The locals have been used to sending for my father and they seem to assume that I’ll be taking his place.’

      ‘Will you?’ Daisy eyed him curiously.

      ‘I don’t know whether it’s possible, although I’d like to carry on my father’s work.’

      ‘We didn’t see you last evening. How did you get on at the solicitor’s office?’

      ‘I’m sorry, I intended to come and see you and Toby, but it was very late by the time I reached home.’

      ‘What did the solicitor say?’

      ‘He showed me my father’s will and statements from his bank. Unfortunately my worst fears were confirmed. Father had tried to get a mortgage on the house, but the bank refused and probably as a last resort he borrowed money from the squire, who now owns at least half the properties in the village.’

      ‘Is that a bad thing?’

      ‘You wouldn’t have to ask had you ever met Esmond Tattersall. Unfortunately my father was so desperate that he agreed to pay an exorbitant rate of interest on the loan.’

      ‘Did he keep up the repayments?’

      Nick shook his head. ‘Apparently not. I always knew that Pa had a soft heart, and it seems I was right – he rarely took money from his poorer patients. According to Mrs Bee they paid him with produce from their gardens, a chicken or some eggs, but hardly ever with actual cash.’

      ‘What will you do now?’

      ‘I’m afraid I’ll have to sell Creek Hall in order to pay off Tattersall, and I’ll move to a more lucrative practice elsewhere.’

      Jack’s eyes flew open. ‘Don’t go, Doctor. My sister needs the job at the hall.’

      ‘Not a word of this to anyone, young Fox,’ Nick said firmly. ‘It won’t be for a while, and who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen and I’ll be able to take up where my father left off.’

      ‘There’s our cottage.’ Jack pointed with his good hand. ‘Don’t tell me mum that I was wagging, sir. She ain’t well and neither is me dad.’

      Nick drew his horse to a halt outside the house. ‘I’ll be tactful, but only if you promise to attend school regularly, when your arm is healed. A bright boy like you could go far, providing he’s had a good education.’

      ‘I promise, sir.’

      Daisy climbed down and stood aside while Nick lifted Jack gently in his arms.

      ‘Would you be kind enough to bring my medical bag, Daisy?’

      ‘Yes, of course.’ Daisy reached into the foot well and picked up the bag, which looked as though it must have belonged to Nick’s father, judging by the well-worn leather. She followed them into the cottage, and she had to wait for a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to the darkness indoors. The rancid smell of tallow mingled with the pervading odour of damp, and a desultory fire burned in the small black-leaded range. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dim light Daisy could see that the coal scuttle was filled with pine cones and furze, and the temperature indoors was barely higher than that outside. She had always been aware that people lived in poverty, but this was the first time she had seen it first hand, and it came as something of a shock.

      The sound of coughing from upstairs echoed round the small room and a man, whom Daisy assumed must be Jack’s father, rose from a chair by the range. He was tall and gaunt with several days’ growth of beard masking his features.

      ‘What’s happened?’ he demanded hoarsely.

      ‘Jack had an accident, Lemuel. I need to take a look at his arm and make sure he has no other injuries.’

      ‘I fell out of a tree, Dad,’ Jack said warily. ‘The branch broke.’

      A bout of coughing prevented Lemuel from replying, but he pointed to a truckle bed placed beneath the stairs, and Nick laid Jack gently on the straw-filled palliasse.

      ‘I’m just going to take a look, Jack. I’ll be as careful as I can.’ Nick kneeled down on the flagstone floor. ‘I need some light, Lemuel.’

      Daisy looked round for a lamp or some candles, but there were only a couple of rush lights, which would account for the smell of burning animal fat. She could see that Lemuel Fox was embarrassed by the doctor’s request, and she felt a rush of pity for the man who was reduced to living in such straitened circumstances. It was easy to see why his daughters needed to work for low pay in order to provide even the basics to keep the family alive.

      ‘Would you open the door wider, please, Daisy?’ Nick said urgently. ‘I need more light.’

      Daisy held the door and winter sun shone palely into the room. Nick worked quickly, soothing Jack with a few words as he dealt with the fracture. He set the bone with a deft movement and Jack cried out, but was silent while his arm was bandaged.

      Nick rose to his feet. ‘I don’t suppose there’s much point in telling you to rest, Jack, but take things easy – no tree climbing for the foreseeable future.’

      ‘Yes, Doctor.’ Jack turned his head away, but not before Daisy had seen tears running down his cheeks. He was a little older than Timothy Carrington, who always tried hard to be a brave little soldier, and her heart went out to the boy. She put her hand in her skirt pocket and took out a poke of peppermint humbugs, a treat she had been saving for Hattie, who had a passion for the sweets. But Jack’s need was the greater and Daisy pressed the paper package into his good hand.

      ‘I’m sure the doctor would prescribe these to be taken freely, Jack. I believe they are very good for sore limbs.’

      Jack’s eyes lit up and he crammed a sweet into his mouth. ‘Ta, miss. Ta, ever so.’

      ‘Don’t

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