The Winds Of Fortune Episode 22
Norah made her way towards the police station with a mixture of excitement and dread in the pit of her stomach.
How she longed to see her brother and tend him, but she was terrified of the state in which she might find him.
When she arrived, she took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and made her way towards the counter at the back.
“Can I help you?”
The constable studied her appearance, eyeing her tatty shawl and taking in her servant’s clothes with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m here to see Joe Pipp,” she told him, drawing herself up and clutching her basket.
“I’m sorry, miss, but we’re not allowed to admit visitors.”
Norah felt a stab of panic in her chest.
“Please, sir. I’m his sister and I need to tend him.”
He looked at her, not without pity, but shook his head.
“I don’t make the rules. It’s more than my job’s worth.”
The panic began to spread and Norah had to swallow a sob.
“I was told I could come. I’ve been waiting days –”
“What’s going on, Jones?” An older man with an air of authority had appeared from the back.
“This girl wants to visit the prisoner, but I told her she can’t, sir.”
The older man looked Norah up and down.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m his sister, Norah. Norah Pipp, sir.”
“Show her to the cell, Jones. It’s been agreed with young Mr Northaven himself. Look sharp.”
Jones’s mouth fell open, but he got to his feet.
“This way, miss.”
Keys were turned and bolts slid back and Norah found herself standing in a small, dark cell.
It was a tiny room, lit only by a barred window, high up on one wall.
When her eyes had adjusted to the light, she saw Joe lying on a pallet in the corner.
She ran to him and took his hand.
“Joe, it’s Norah. I’ve come to see you.”
His head turned to her and a smile seemed to flicker on his lips, but Norah was horrified to take in his pallor and sunken eyes.
She put a hand to his forehead. He was slick with fever.
He didn’t seem fully conscious and certainly would not be able to move from his mat.
It took all of Norah’s strength not to cry, but tears would help no-one.
Joe needed her and she must stay strong.
“All will be well, Joe. Don’t worry,” she told him, keeping the tremor from her voice. “Mr Northaven and his cousin are working to get you released. You won’t be here long.”
She began to take things from the basket.
Tenderly, she washed his face and hands and felt a gentle pressure from his fingers as she did so.
At least he knew she was there.
She raised him up a little, resting his head on her lap, and encouraged him to drink chicken broth from the spoon she held to his lips.
“Come now, Joe. Have a little broth. It’ll give you strength.”
He managed a few sips, but couldn’t eat much.
Norah felt desperate – her worst fears had been realised.
She had to get Joe home or he wouldn’t survive long.
Still, she exercised an iron control.
Holding his hand, she talked calmly about Ma and the others and what they would do on his release.
He seemed comforted by her presence, but the time was up all too soon.
“Come with me, miss.” Jones was back.
Norah gathered her things together, leaving both food and medicine within her brother’s reach.
She kissed him on the forehead and left, stopping for a moment at the door to look back.
She couldn’t remember leaving the station or stumbling alone back towards Bothwell House.
Would Joe have the strength to take the food and medicine she’d left? Would he even live to see his trial?
Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
She pulled her coat tighter round her and tried to find a handkerchief.
She gathered her scattered wits. She would run the rest of the way and speak to Miss Minnie as soon as she could.
The rich folks could do more than a maidservant. She must beg for help.
As soon as she arrived, she rushed in through the servants’ entrance, then made her way up the back stairs in search of Miss Vandunlan.
It wasn’t long before she found her in the library.
Bursting through the door, she came to an abrupt halt a few feet away from the fireside chair, where Miss Minnie was reclining with a book.
“Goodness, Norah, what is the matter?” Miss Vandunlan sat up at once, staring at the maid’s blotchy face.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, miss, but I’ve been to see our Joe.”
“I take it the visit did not go well?”
Norah twisted her apron in her hands and tried not to cry.
“He’s poorly, miss,” she told her. “It’s worse than what I thought. He’s got a fever and can hardly eat.”
She swallowed hard and clenched her fists.
“If he don’t get out soon, I don’t think he’s got long for this world.”
A tear slid down her cheek and Minnie regarded her with compassion.
“This is dreadful,” she said, rising to her feet and taking Norah’s hand. “I will speak to Mr Northaven immediately.”
To be continued…