“No.” Enid put a hand on Joan’s arm but didn’t have anything except the hopeless wish that her sister would see the mountains of times it had happened before: what was coming, the long road ahead. A doctor would come, and another week of bandages and sleep would ensue, nothing would make it better but time, and she’d be looked at and not comforted. Rooms would grow quiet when she entered. All anyone would think to say would be, how is he? as if she’d vanished, as if her world contained nothing but a frightened, injured boy who should have been better looked after. Their care would be laced with admonishment and she would want to scream, it’s not my fault.

Joan pulled her arm away. “What do you mean, no?”

The blood, his sobs, the very tableau of them in the hall was enough, wasn’t it, for any normal mother to behave in a normal way? As he lay in Douglas’ arms, Enid bent her face close, her nose to his, while Joan pulled on her boots at the door.

Enid, 1921

5

Enid, 1921

The doctor came, a huge bear of a man taking up all the light in the attic bedroom. In the silence of crisis halted, he cradled Fagus’ head in his hands and wrapped a bandage around the bleeding.

“Poor little chap. What a bang. We shall have to wait till morning to get a proper look. Best to let the body do its work. They’re strong these little lads, you know. Bounce like balls. Attended a lad only last week who’d come rocketing down from a tree. We thought he’d broken his neck, but in twenty-four hours he was right as anything and asking to go up again. You’ll see, he’ll be fine.”

Douglas breathed out and smiled as he shook Dr Glendower’s hand. “Thanks awfully.”

“It’s the mothers you want to watch,” said Glendower, smiling idiotically at Enid. “Make sure she doesn’t disturb him. It’s sleep he needs. I shouldn’t mind that it’s sleep you need too, ma’am.”

Enid ignored him.

“How do you know he’ll be fine?” asked Joan.

“The swelling would be worse, and the pain,” said Dr Glendower. “I should imagine he’s somewhat concussed. On the stairs, you say? Stone – he might have caught the edge of the balustrade to give himself a cut like that, but—”

Heads bleed like billy-o, thought Enid.

“Heads bleed like billy-o,” continued the doctor. “Get cook to make up a dram of hot broth and drop a little whisky into it.”

“Whisky?” said Enid.

“For the shock,” said Dr Glendower.