The Midwives' War by Chrissie Walsh

Author:Chrissie Walsh [Walsh, Chrissie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

At the same time as Grace attended the injured miners, Richard was driving frantically up the A1 from Duxford to Higher Melton. He didn’t arrive at The Grange until the early hours of the morning.

The house was silent. It was too early for Maggie Trotter to have arrived, and his mother must still be sleeping. He glanced into the drawing room, and then the dining room and library. Not finding what he was looking for, he frowned, the furrows in his brow receding when he realised why. Of course, he thought cynically, his mother wouldn’t want to clutter the reception rooms in her house with anything inappropriate. He went down to his father’s study.

The coffin lay on a wheeled bier in front of the desk, its lid leaned against the end of it. Richard steeled himself before slowly walking towards it. The study smelled cloyingly sweet, and he presumed the smell came from the large, white lilies in vases on the side tables. They reeked of death.

He gazed down into his father’s face, smooth and waxen, and peaceful. Garvey’s eyes were closed, but Richard imagined he could still see the sharp, bright blue so like his own. It took his breath away. His heart felt heavy inside his chest with the weight of so many unspoken words. When had he last told his father he loved him? He couldn’t remember. Tears welled in his eyes and he let them fall unheeded.

Garvey’s hands were clasped neatly on his chest. Richard placed his own hand over them. They felt cold and hard. He recalled how, as a boy, he had watched those deft hands make model aeroplanes for him or show him how to hold a pencil and draw. They had swung him up into the air for fun, had picked him up and brushed him down when he fell and held him tight whenever he was in need of comfort. It shocked him to think that he’d never again feel their warmth, or hear Garvey’s deep, gentle voice telling him a story or explaining the intricacies of an architectural design. They wouldn’t go fishing again or tinker with a motorbike or a car in the garage. An icy hand clutched Richard’s heart as he realised that he was already missing those wonderful times spent with his father. His cheeks wet with silent tears, he leaned into the coffin and brushed his father’s forehead with his lips. ‘Goodbye, Dad,’ he whispered. ‘You were the best in the world. If I can be half the man you were I’ll be satisfied.’

When he came upright, he gazed into his father’s peaceful face, and unwilling to leave him alone, he went and sat in Garvey’s chair behind the desk. He closed his eyes letting the memories of their time together wash over him. When next he opened his eyes, he realised that he had slept, he didn’t know for how long but hearing movement from up above, yawning and stretching, he slowly got to his feet.

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