By choice or by force Ch. 09

"Well we could do with a proper rota of nursing staff... you me and my nurse will not be able to care for our patient twenty-four hours a day, and then start testing people as well."

"Well I can get my hands on four nurses that I can think of. They are all shifters and know how to be discreet, and I can hire them as private nurses for Mr Richards."

"Excellent, that would work exceedingly well... now why don't we go and get a coffee and draw up a list of the other things we might need."

As the two men left the room, Michael strolled in, ready to take up station beside his parent.

He hated seeing his father lying there and looking so weak and vulnerable, but he had spent every moment allowed sitting in this room with him.

It was only when Trudy or the doctors chased him out, did he leave, only to wander aimlessly around.

That had been until he had run into Laurie.

One look into her dark compassionate eyes, and his own filled with despair -- or love or anguish or frustration... all and any emotion that raged through him he poured into their shared look and then she took him in his arms and just held him tight.

"It'll be all right, Michael, my love... everything will be all right," she whispered, and he believed her.

Things never went any further than that, there was no talk of a future together, but as long as she held on to him, then he felt he could weather whatever came.

He looked at his sleeping parent and thought -- hoped that he looked a little stronger this morning.

Jonathon stirred and slowly opened his eyes.

"Dad, how are you feeling?"

He took his hand and tried to transfer some of his energy to his father, and for a moment he thought that it might have worked as Jonathon opened his eyes wider and looked at his son with recognition.

"Michael," he sighed and then his eyelids flickered, and he seemed to drift off again.

But just for a moment.

His eyes opened again, and he moved as if to sit up.

"Michael," he coughed and fell back, but gripped his son's hand for a moment. "Your uncle, I... I need to talk to your uncle!"

"Uncle Mathew? He's away, you sent him away?"

"Yes, but he... he's coming back... as soon as he comes back... I have to see him!"

"Okay dad, don't worry; just as soon as he arrives, I will send him up to see you."

It was as though the reassurance was enough as his father smiled slightly and promptly lost consciousness again.

Mathew turned up towards midday, and amongst the chaos that was occurring, his arrival was missed by most people.

He strode through the downstairs of the house, but it seemed that most of the people he met up with were strangers, or members of the household who were in a frantic rush to do something. The one member of staff that he did manage to accost was in a mindless state of. "It all happened so fast -- we didn't know, did not realise that he was so ill!"

Seline had not told him anything this morning, when she had knocked him up with the dawn, by almost banging down his door.

He'd opened that door with a sleep befuddled brain, and blood shot eyes and seeing her standing there with a covered tray and steaming silver pot; he'd almost closed the door again right in her face.

She had worked him hard the day before, up on roofs mending tiles and digging up a hard dried out dirt patch ready for vegetable planting.

His first thought was 'god the bloody woman, couldn't even wait for daylight before setting him back to work!'

"Don't just stand there!" Selina said barging past him with the tray. "Your brother needs you back as quick as you can get going!"

"Jon?"

"Yes, that was still his name when I spoke to him last night," Seline said sarcastically.

"Something must have come up then," he mumbled running his hand through his tousled hair.

Seline hesitated, almost as if she wanted to say something, but then she sighed.

"Eat up, drink up, freshen up; and then get yourself off. I'll have one of the girls come down and tidy up after you a bit later."

"I'll pop in and say goodbye -- at least," Mathew protested.

Seline reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "It was lovely seeing you again Matt, thank you for the visit and the help; I will see you soon hopefully; keep well and goodbye."

Mathew was slowly becoming alert. "You are welcome and see you soon... goodbye?"

She patted his arm and walked out without looking back.

Mathew had left the little hut less than an hour later, but it still took several hours to get back and even though he had tried to call his brother several times on the way, it had always cut to voicemail.

Now he walked into his brother's study with a growing sense of unease.

He found it empty and the first hints of dust said that no one had been in here for more than several hours.

He strode across to the stairway with the intention of dropping his bags in his room and then going on a mission to find out what had occurred.

Rowena Beaumont stopped midway down just as he stepped up onto the first tread.

Her tired eyes took in his weary tousled look, and lines of concern with hints of pain, and her spitfire eyes softened to something... she smiled gently and came the rest of the way down.

"What's happened?" he demanded through gritted teeth; more unsettled by her look than anything else that had occurred.

She touched his arm gently. "Come and share a pot of coffee with me and I will tell you everything... but know for now that your brother lives and is in good -- the best of hands."

He dropped his bag weakly and the colour drained from his face.

"Where is he? I need to see him -- now!"

"The doctors have arranged for some nurses to come in and see to him, they are all in with him at the moment and family has been -- for want of a better term kicked out of the way for a bit. Michael is trying to bring some order to the house but is struggling to get anyone to listen. Your brother's authority here is so absolute that no one else can lead." She tugged his arm. "Come; you have had a long drive and you need sustenance and then you can start to help your nephew."

She led him to the small room beside the kitchen, which looked like it was being used a lot.

"We've started to keep pots of coffee and snacks, cereals and sandwiches and things on the go here, so that people can come and help themselves as and when they need it."

The room was empty for the moment and so Rowena sat him at one of the smaller tables with just two chairs and then went and fetched coffees and a plate of sandwiches and small cakes.

Mathew ate the food obligingly enjoying everything she had given him and then was surprised when she handed him a mug of coffee exactly as he would have made it himself.

"Thank you," he muttered gruffly.

He sipped the hot drink and looked at her pointedly.

Rowena sighed softly and her pale brows furrowed. "It was yesterday. After his afternoon session had finished, he was talking to a few of us -- to Michael, when suddenly he just collapsed."

She shrugged tiredly. "Luckily there was a doctor who your brother had arranged to come and visit, and he happened to arrive soon after and immediately took charge -- with the help of your brother's own GP who came along a little bit later... they have both been here and organising things ever since, and now they have arranged for more nurses to come, and soon they will be gathering us all together so that they can talk to us all, which will hopefully give us some good news."

"You look worn out," he observed gently. "Have you had any rest since his collapse?"

She turned away from his tenderness and he saw her shoulders stiffen. "I've had more than some, but less than others," she shrugged his concern away.

She stood up and took their cups and plates across to a tray in the corner.

"Someone will come and sort those in a bit," she told him. "Now I think you should go and find your nephew... he needs you now I think."

She would have turned away again but Mathew stopped her by taking her arm and turning her back to him. When she would have kept her eyes averted, he tilted her chin, with his fingers.

"Thank you for all that you..." as she looked up at him with her vivid blue eyes, the scar began to throb and the wavery image of a long-forgotten dream brushed at his memory.

"You are quite welcome -- it was nothing really," she pulled away just as Michael strode in.

"Uncle Mathew!"