Obsession

Chapter 6 - Illness

Both my charges ill

in my mindset a change

swallow a strengthening pill

escape plan to arrange

Approximately six months have passed since that dreadful day and I am returning after a fortnight away, in teacher's college. I loved the company, the camaraderie of people my own age, and learning new things. The noise they brought with them was what I loved most of all, it was the sound of freedom, the silence of Thorndale when Rosa was down for the night oppressed me, but I missed her dreadfully. Some of them where as reserved as me, they had no experience other than their own home and lifestyle. Others scoffed when I told them how Sir treated me. They oohed and aahed over my wardrobe and my description of Thorndale, but seemed disbelieving when I described it as fortress-like. I was wary of how much I divulged but devoured any advice they gave like a sponge. They talked about rights and how times are changing and that I need to change with them. One or two of them said they would not care where they lived or who with if they had such a wardrobe, particularly my hounds-tooth coat. I listened and stored what they told me in my memory bank reserved and filed for retrieval when needed to be. One of the best lessons I learnt is that he can lock Rosa and I up but he cannot put our minds under lock and key. I purchased two of the latest literature, which I know Rosa's going to adore, The Wizard of Oz and Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. I will give her one now and keep the other for when Sir's away, it will keep her occupied for a while. A bit advanced for her yet but she will enjoy watching me get into character and acting out what she cannot grasp. Her whole life so far apart from her Dad and I have been learnt between the pages of books. I also bought a deck of cards which I knew would pass many an hour on days when the weather was too bad to go outside, although Rosa always insists that the weather is never too bad. We won't be able to play all the games I learnt as there only two of us, three if Dad is around and willing. I'll start with Tommy, tickle me, fun and the easiest to grasp when learning.

I wrote it down so I wouldn't forget -

all the cards are dealt and one person says –

There's an ace as you may see

There's another as good as he

There's the best one of the three

And there's Tommy tickle me.

- They keep saying this till all the cards are done and the person that has the last card the other tickles them.

I and Rosa will have great fun with that one. She was a wee bit poorly when I left so I hope, she is feeling much better. We pull up outside and a dreadful sense of foreboding goes through me, something's wrong. I can feel it in my bones. Paying the driver abruptly, he already knows not to hang around here. Experiences have taught him well, that is to drop off, be paid, and get out of the vicinity. I do not have the time or inclination to give myself the usual dusting down. He will have to get one of those new automobiles, with a bloody roof he can well afford it. I think he keeps it in the hope that no one will be bothered to notice an old banger and I imagine Sir would rather have the driver's compliance and silence. Met by Sir in the hall he is wide eyed with exhaustion and pale with fright. I can sense a deep feeling of despair. What has happened? I fear but need the answer.

"Nanny, your here, I'm so relieved, it's been bloody awful."

"Why? What is wrong? Where's Rosalind?"

"She's upstairs, but she's not well Nanny, I've no idea what to do, I've tried everything?"

"Have you called a doctor?"

"Nanny, you know how I feel about doctors."

"Okay, well then you haven't tried everything, have you? Can I go up to her?"

"Yes, please, Nanny, quickly she's out of it."

The stench is overwhelming. 'Out of it' is a major understatement. Rosa is in the bed covered in puke and her own faecal matter. She is sweating profusely. I have to get some air in here the room is stuffy and muggy, illness settling in the air.

"Open that window, George, and you'll need to put the fire out, we have to try and get her temperature down, as soon as possible."

He is shocked. So shocked he does my bidding.

"Get the jug, take it to the kitchen, fill it, and bring it into the bathroom, warm but on the cool side, that's all the jugs we have, please."

He is getting over the initial shock. "Who are you? Telling me what to do, be careful Nanny, getting ideas above your station I'm the boss around here."

"Let's get one thing straight, George, the child I love is on the brink of death, and another thing from now on I call you George. You are no longer 'Sir' to me we are now on equal footing. Things are going to change as of now, otherwise, I'll have social services, doctors and anyone else I can think of to take the poor child away from you, do we understand each other?"

"You wouldn't, you know she's my world, I would do anything for her, Nanny, you know that."

"I'm no longer the Nanny. George, my name is Heather, and I am going to be your new wife. This state of affairs is never happening again. I need to have a say in what happens to this poor child, a legal say, now fill that tub, she has to be washed and cooled down. Whilst I'm in there doing that strip and remake the bed, she's been lying in her own excrement the poor wee mite."

Something has snapped, how can I speak to him like this? So glad I chose my grey suit this morning I feel somewhat empowered in it also seeing a beloved child at death's door has had an emboldening effect. Shock, child protection classes, and the other women's advice must be kicking in, and it is working, even though I am calling his bluff. I cannot get anybody else involved, not yet because, for years, I have been privy to his madness, allowing him to hide this child away, but she will not die, not on my watch. This will be a marriage of convenience, unavoidable; I will no longer have us live in fear of him. Even though my flesh crawls every time he is anywhere near me these days. When we are married legally, I will then be family and can get him help, or get him signed in somewhere. Any help whatsoever for whatever condition he has and the madness can stop, for the last time.

Feeling a weird sensation on the back of my neck, a cool breeze, like someone walking by and gone as quick as it came, cool but leaves me with a lasting impression, a warm feeling all over me. I feel I have done something right. I turn and am sure I see a shadow merging into the wall. Convincing myself, I am just stressed; imagination playing tricks on me. What other explanation is there?

"Sir, I mean, George, where's Molly? Rosa will want nothing but to see her as soon as she's feeling better, it will cheer her up no end."

"I have you told you many times Nanny that she was named Rosalind, not Rosa. It is a simple thing, and Molly is of no concern to me. The only thing I care about is in that bed."

"Well, I call her Rosa, always have. You may not care but Rosa does, go and get Molly now, I want to see her."

"She made Rosalind ill, she gave her whatever this is, so no I will not go and get her."

"Get her now, George or I'm fetching help and I'll take whatever consequences that may arise from that action, are we clear?"

He raises his hand and I pull myself up to my full height.

"That will never happen again George, you understand, I will leave right now, but rest assured I'll be back and not on my own, is that what you want?"

He lowers his hand, dejectedly, and leaves gesturing and grumbling I can only assume to himself, I lift Rosa off the bed, she's lighter than ever, what have we done to this precious little girl? Bathing her, singing softly, blowing on her face, trying to get any reaction, nothing happens, zero. She is in a trance-like state if she does not improve soon, I will have to get a doctor in, even if it has to be over George's cold and lifeless body.