A Beautiful Saviour

Chapter Sixteen

It was hard to know that the world was a little lonelier. His family had joined him and Perttu had told Lily of Joseph’s decision. The children played with the sorcerers and were loving the tricks they did which tended to involve flowers and magic. Perttu could relax. He didn’t want to think about the week’s end, when everything would slowly come to an end.

“Lily, go home. Take the kids.”

“But-;”

“No Lily. You’re still new to this world; I don’t want you to see death. I don’t want the children to see him and get attached and then ask me where uncle Joseph has gone. Please, let my father take you home.”

“Fine!” She was angry at being dismissed like a weak child. “Fine, me and the children will go home… But Perttu, don’t give up on him. Don’t give up even at the last second. Minds change quicker than a rain drop, he is more than your cousin and he is more than an adopted brother, Perttu… Joseph is your brother, so don’t fail him; even if he’s on his way to failing you.”

*

Her mother had organised the dress, the church, the flowers and the guests were all invited. The hall that was to hold the reception was booked and Elsa was throwing up without fail every morning. The marriage was set and while she knew she was doing the right thing for her family, and for this lovely man she called a true friend, as the days crept closer she felt an almighty wrenching in her belly that got worse and worse until she couldn’t keep any food down. Alexander was no longer coming round as usual. News of her weak stomach was no doubt putting him off and she found herself obliged to write to him explaining that she would be better in a few days. That itself was a few days ago and there was no change to her sickness.

                It felt as if her very body was weighing her down, causing her pain and convulsions in order to keep her from moving around, moving forward. She was wondering how she would manage to walk to the church in a few days’ time when every day she sat in a chair huddling herself up into a small ball and taking small slow steps, only when necessary. Every time Joseph flashed as a memory in her mind she would have to hobble to privacy, very quickly, in order to be sick. He hadn’t wrote to her or called on her and she was sure that his friend would have, by now, told him the news. She was glad she hadn’t had to do it, just the thought of it made her feel so depressed she burst into floods of tears.

                Her mother had sent for the doctor but he had no real idea what was wrong with her. He had bled her arm and prepared her foul medicine that didn’t work, but other than that all he really did was sigh and mumble incoherently as he pottered about humming to himself. She wasn’t cured and she wasn’t even on her way to being together. She hoped it would fade by her wedding; she couldn’t walk down the aisle with a bucket in her hands just in case she was sick. It would be called off if she was too ill and she panicked at the stir that would cause. The people would gossip like crazy if she had to cancel. Cancelling would let down Alexander and she didn’t want to have to see his face if she did. She expected that it would look sad with a hint of anger in it because she was making him look a fool. Her mother would never let her hear the end of it and she would be lucky if all her father did was rage at her for a full day and night. It wasn’t an option she wanted to consider (cancelling) but after she was cleaning herself up, after a nasty bout of sickness, she recognised that it was one she had no choice but to contemplate. She needed to make alternate arrangements if that were the case and she needed to tell the vicar, and hall owner, that the dates would be changing. For they would never be cancelled, not now. But it could be moved to a later date. A slight inconvenience to everyone but not a scandal. Nothing too major.

                One of the servants brought her some stew and bread but the smell immediately sent her stomach churning. Rushing off to relief her convulsing stomach she closed her eyes and let her legs turn to jelly. The floor was soon covered in a mess and she still didn’t try to move away. Knelt on the ground her hands steadied her body so she didn’t fall down onto the sick in front of her and in that moment – the lowest of all her life she understood that she was doing this to herself. That this illness was caused by her because she made the wrong choice; this was her punishment. With tears streaming down her face she screamed her lungs out when a servant tried to get her up. The minute someone stooped down to lift her up she kicked out, threw her hands all around the air and cried and cried. She didn’t want anyone to pick her up; she deserved to be on the floor, she deserved to be positioned in a state of grovelling and she didn’t want anyone to pick her up – that was for her to do, it was her responsibility to sort out the mess she was in and she screamed that out loud for all the house to hear. Decorum was gone, modesty was gone, every tiny speck of etiquette training was gone and all that mattered now was that they left her alone to figure out her life.