God's Crusade

Part Twenty-Four

Family Ties

March 2041

Hermione Slade sat beside her grandmother's bed, all her tears hidden behind her veil and mantle. Mrs Slade's rapid deterioration had come as a shock to everyone. Perhaps not a surprise, considering her prognosis, but still a shock, and Hermione had taken it harder than anyone. She had been in Britain for just over four months, and in that time the two of them had grown so close that Hermione could not imagine life without her. They had always talked online, but it was just not the same as living together, and exploring Britain together. Redhill hospital, the nearest to Reigate, was a dismal place. A relic of the last century, it was not like the modern hospitals Hermione was used to in New York and California, and she could not let her grandmother die there. She had broken down in front of her father and told him so, but Chris Slade felt just as helpless as his daughter. He was still doing his 'contract' work but he did not really know what to do for the best, and the three of them, including a distraught Alan Slade, could only mount a bedside vigil as the old lady shrank before their eyes.

"Oh...thank you...sorry if I am in the way Sister." Hermione said, jolted back to reality by a nurse, a nun, checking the drip and the dreadful beeping monitor. The nun did not speak, but she curtseyed, and Hermione nodded, reaching out to take her Gran's hand again and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

"Sweetheart, Pastor Brown is here." Her father said, coming back into the small private room and trying a smile.

"Oh...is he? Will he mind...I am not muzzled...or mittened?" Hermione asked, a little flustered, and Chris realised just how much she had changed in the last few weeks, since she had visited Meadvale. She had told him and her grandparents everything that had happened to her, of course. He had been shocked, initially annoyed that his daughter had been treated like that, over what was clearly a misunderstanding at worst, but his mother had been ashamed and quite horrified by Hermione's behaviour. It had shocked them both to the core, because Hermione could do no wrong in Mrs Slade's eyes in normal circumstances, but the sick old lady had told her granddaughter off in no uncertain terms. Mrs Slade told her that she was a guest, a tourist, but she had been shown great kindness by the Pastor, and the Bishop's family in being invited to visit Meadvale. Mrs Slade made it sound like a visit to Mecca and she clearly felt that her granddaughter had offended her hosts by not doing exactly as she was told, regardless of her own feelings. It was, after all, just a sleeping gown, for goodness sake the old lady had said. Mrs Slade had really been quite humorous about it, her humiliation at the news abating a little as she saw the affect her scolding was having on Hermione. It was she insisted, just a sleeping bag with a hood and it was warm, modest and safe for a maiden to sleep in, especially at a sleepover. Chris Slade saw the nonsense in that, and they had all laughed, but it served to break the mood, and Hermione had felt better afterwards. She had to admit that she panicked and she was well aware that Miss Donald had every right to punish her, as she was in her care. She also understood that the act of touching her muzzle was a heinous sin to her hosts. Everyone she had told was horrified by what she had done, not by the punishment she had received, and she had started to feel guilty at her behaviour. Then her grandmother took her turn for the worst and the young maiden obviously tried to make things up to her, by being as good as she could be.

"Of course not, he is here to see Gran...and you look more than respectable." Her father replied, coming to sit beside her, leaving some space for the Pastor on the other side of the bed, nearest the door.

"Good morning Miss Slade...I really am so sorry we should meet again under such sad circumstances." Nigel Brown nodded at the girl and noted with pleasure that she offered no verbal response, but merely bowed her head, showing her respect. He had caught the end of her conversation with her father and was rather impressed by her attitude. He had a view about heathens, in that he had noticed that some girls brought into the loving embrace of God's love were absolute naturals. He was not sure what it was, and he really had very little experience of girls, let alone girls outside of the church, but in his job he got to observe a fair number from a suitable distance and some just seemed rather more suited to it than others were. Hermione was one of those. He knew she was American and he assumed that however well brought up she was that she had led a typical, if privileged American childhood, but with really very little training and only the good influences of her grandmother, who was hardly a proper Daughter of Eve, she was really making quite remarkable progress. "Please, feel free to speak in front of me, my dear; I am the one intruding on your grief and sadness. I would not dream of expecting you to ignore your grandmother out of respect for me."