Josephine Cox Sunday Times Bestsellers Collection. Josephine Cox
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to say it’s summat serious that they can’t put right. Good God, Barney, it could be any number o’ things.’
A glimmer of hope fluttered through Barney. ‘What could it be then?’
‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ Adam replied irritably. ‘Like yourself, I’m no doctor. All I know is, you shouldn’t go jumping to conclusions. It could be a simple little thing that can easily be dealt with.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Well, such as a bad bout of indigestion. I get it all the time – it nigh doubles me up, but it’s nothing to worry about. Then there’s the nature of your work; you’re out all hours in all weathers, and how many times have I seen you lying on the damp ground, under a machine, or hanging on the edge of a ladder reaching for this or that, then another time you’ll be stacking hay up to the ceiling in the barn. Jesus! You’re allus up to summat, stretching your body to its limit and not giving a thought to the consequences.’
He wagged a finger. ‘You know as well as I do, there’s many a farmer gone crippled because of his work and the changing weather.’
‘I know that, but it’s not the same thing at all.’
‘Like as not you’ve overstretched a chest-muscle, or you might even have fractured a rib. That’s been known to happen afore now and not been discovered for many a week – by which time it’s got worse.’
Barney’s hopes rose. ‘You’re right. I didn’t think of all that.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ Adam confirmed. ‘You were too busy thinking the worst instead.’
‘So, do you reckon I should still see the doctor?’
‘It wouldn’t hurt, not now that you’ve made the appointment.’
Barney nodded. ‘I’m glad I told you, Adam.’
‘So am I.’ The other man, though, was secretly worried. ‘You’d best mek tracks, lad. Soonest done is soonest mended.’
A few minutes later, Barney was ready to set off. ‘I’ll call in and see you at home on my way back,’ he told Adam. ‘Let you know what Dr Lucas says.’
His old friend waved him off. ‘You do that,’ he advised. ‘And stop your worriting!’
Long after Barney was out of sight, Adam stood at the door, mulling over what Barney had told him: pains in his chest, being sick, sleeping badly and at times hardly able to breathe. He had assured Barney it could be any number of minor things, but deep down he had to consider that it could be really serious – far more serious than he had led the other man to believe. He was frightened for his pal.
So frightened for him that he downed tools there and then and made his way home, intending to wait for Barney to let him know what Dr Lucas had to say.
Expecting his appointment to last some fifteen minutes or less, Barney was in Dr Lucas’s surgery for a whole hour and a half.
Having been pummelled about and then quizzed for what seemed an age, Barney dressed behind the screens and came out to stand before the man’s desk. ‘What’s the verdict then, Doctor?’ he asked. He needed to know, but was dreading the answer. Not for nothing had Raymond Lucas called in his colleague from the other consulting room, and each in turn had examined Barney yet again; in quiet tones discussing his condition while he quickly dressed.
The doctor smiled. ‘Sit down, Mr Davidson.’ His quick smile was not a reassuring one; instead, to Barney it seemed more of a consoling smile, and sure enough with his next words he confirmed Barney’s suspicions. ‘I’m afraid it’s not good news.’
Suppressing the fear inside him, Barney asked tremulously, ‘It’s my heart, isn’t it?’
Dr Lucas slowly nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’ Quickly adding, ‘But it’s not all bad news. With proper medication and rest, you could go on for years yet.’
Shocked to the soul, Barney interrupted him. ‘What you’re saying is, if I stop work and spend the rest of my life doing nothing, then I might live a few years more?’
‘Well, I’m not suggesting you should do nothing. I’m saying you will have to take things a lot easier. No more building haystacks, or driving in the sheep on a frosty winter’s morning. You have a damaged heart. It isn’t functioning as it should and that’s a dangerous thing, especially for an active man such as yourself, whose very livelihood depends on him using his strength to carry out his work.’
A note of impatience marbled his advice. ‘From now on, you must be sensible in everything you do, and I cannot emphasise that strongly enough.’
Barney wasn’t listening. By now he was seeing the future in his own mind, and what he saw was more crippling than anything he had so far endured. ‘Tell me, Dr Lucas …’ he paused, hoping against hope that he might receive the answer he needed. ‘Is there anything you can do to repair the damage?’
The doctor shook his head. ‘I’m afraid the damage seems to be quite considerable. The breathlessness, the pain and sickness … it all has to do with the heart not doing its work. As far as we can tell, there is little that can be done, except to give you the advice I’ve just given, and for you to follow it to the letter.’ He bent his head to his desk and taking out a notepad, began scribbling furiously. ‘I can carry out any number of tests and no doubt get a fuller picture. But the heart is a complex organ and often it can be more dangerous to interfere with it, than to leave it alone.’
Looking up, he added in a serious voice, ‘My opinion and that of my colleague is for us to treat the symptoms, and for you to do your part … follow my advice, and take the medicine prescribed. That way, it’s certainly possible that you may enjoy a few more good years.’
Handing Barney the folded paper, he told him, ‘I’ve made an appointment for you to be admitted into the Infirmary first thing in the morning.’ His smile was sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry the news was not what you might have expected, Mr Davidson, but we’ll do the best we can – as indeed you must.’
Barney was devastated.
In a kind of half-drunken stupor he left the surgery and made his way to the horse and cart, which he had tethered outside. Without his usual greeting to the old horse, he climbed aboard, took up the reins and clicking the horse away, sat back on his slatted wooden bench and turned his thoughts to Vicky and the family.
As he left the village behind and came into the open countryside, he stopped the horse in its tracks, and climbing down off the bench, stood at the top of the valley, from where he could see the whole world.
He stood for a long time, his mind numbed and his heart sore, and when the doctor’s words flooded back … It’s possible you may enjoy a few good years … he lifted his face to the skies and with the tears streaming down his face, he accused that Great Master somewhere in the heavens: ‘Every step of my life I’ve always trusted You, and now when my life seems to be taking a turn for the better, You snatch it away.’ Anger roared through him. ‘WHAT TERRIBLE THING DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?’ Sobbing, he fell to the ground.
In his mind’s eye he could see Vicky, and his children. He saw the joy in their eyes and the excitement in their voices as they spoke of their imminent new life in Boston, and it was as though a knife was twisting his soul.
Sobered by the prospect of telling them, he climbed back onto the cart, but he did not take up the reins. Instead he sat hunched and desolate, without hope; without a future.
Adam was sitting on the doorstep smoking his pipe when he saw Barney coming up the lane. ‘At last!’ He had almost given him up. Knocking out his pipe on the porch column, he laid it beside his empty beer mug and ran out to meet his old friend. ‘Where’ve you been? You’ve been gone an age,’ he told him as Barney wearily climbed down. ‘I thought you were never coming back.’
Half an hour later, the dreadful news imparted and