The doctor looked crossly at Oliver as he pulled on the arm. It shot back into the shoulder socket with a sickening click. Luke woke and screamed but it was not as loud as Kerensa’s.

Luke groaned and lost consciousness once more. Dr Crebo fell back on a chair and put his face in sweating, trembling hands. Kerensa ran round the table and fell faint into Oliver’s arms. Beatrice approached the table and the motionless boy slowly. She took the hand of his good arm and her old head swung from side to side as she scrutinised him. Then she started to strip away the rest of his clothes and began to wash him down, singing a nursery rhyme as she worked. Kerensa was soon able to help her and moments later Luke was carried upstairs.

Beatrice stood at his bedside murmuring, ‘Poor little mite… poor little mite…’ until Kerensa could stand it no longer and asked her to go and comfort the other children.

Dr Crebo lifted Luke’s eyelids. The boy’s pupils were responsive to light.

‘He will be all right?’ Oliver asked in a shaken voice as the doctor began to pack his things in his bag.

‘Yes, Sir Oliver,’ he said breathlessly, ‘for now. I’ve done the tidying up and his arm is in a sling to keep it absolutely still, but…’

‘But what?’ demanded Oliver, glancing fearfully at Kerensa.

Dr Crebo looked sympathetically at the parents as they stood clutching each other. ‘I’m pessimistic the arm will heal as before. As you saw for yourselves it was a very bad injury, not just a case of an arm out of its socket. All the pulling and prodding I had to do was necessary but it will have aggravated the condition. It is possible that the boy’s arm may prove to be totally useless. But he is alive, be thankful for that.’ It was the worst dislocation he had ever had to treat in his long career. He was shaken and went on sharply, ‘Now if you’ll be good enough to provide me with a glass of brandy.’

‘Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr Crebo. You’ll find all the refreshment you need laid out in the hall. If you’ll excuse us, my wife and I will stay with our son.’

Dr Crebo left Kerensa and Oliver to begin an anguished vigil at Luke’s bedside. He stood at an open window in the corridor for a few moments retying his neckcloth neatly before he hastened downstairs. He was astonished to see the Blake family in the hall, in the process of leaving.

‘This is a surprise indeed, Mr Blake, Mistress Blake,’ he blurted out, his curling eyebrows moving upwards to meet his wig.