Becoming Jane

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Harrison had not told the story to anyone, not even his own father. He’d just kept it inside, never letting anyone know why he’d abandoned the practice of medicine.

But there was something about Little J, something that made him want to divulge everything to her. Something told him that she would understand, that she would take his side. Her beautiful, blue eyes were trusting and he could imagine them filling with sympathy for him even when he didn’t deserve it.

But there she was, sitting across from him, willing to listen.

He’d always relied on science. It made sense to him, it made sense that he could use facts and figures to determine the reason behind everything. But as soon as the woman before him entered his life it all became confusing. He didn’t know anything anymore. All he knew was that he couldn’t imagine not seeing this woman every day. She was necessary, like air to breathe.

“Michael Paine was my best friend. He was the most amusing man you could ever meet,” he began. Remembering Michael was painful. It filled him with guilt. “We grew up together. My mother cooked for the orphanage in our village and Michael was one of the orphans. I’m sure my parents would have adopted us both if they could have afforded it."

“You were adopted?” Little J asked, sounding concerned. Her brows knitted together as she frowned.

His adoption was not an integral part to the story, but it had shaped his beliefs once he knew how he became to be an orphan.

“I’ll tell you about that afterward,” he promised. “But Michael and I were the best of friends. We got up to all sorts of mischief together. When it came time to leave for university he was eighteen as well so he was allowed to leave the orphanage. He came with me and found employment as a carriage driver. We were fine for years until … well, until he died.”

“What happened to him?” Little J asked, her voice breaking on the last word. Her little hand on his felt so comforting. He concentrated his vision on it. It was keeping him sane.

“We’d eaten some terrible meat. I don’t know what it was, but we were both sick. Michael was complaining for pains in his stomach and I diagnosed him, and myself, with food poisoning. He had it worse than me, he was in agony and he was vomiting.” Harrison could still see Michael as he was laying in one of the beds in his practice. Harrison himself felt awful but he was not as bad as Michael. He just thought that his friend had eaten more than him. “It was too late when I realised it wasn’t food poisoning. It was his appendix. It burst,” he said as he shook his head. “It burst and I didn’t catch it. By the time I did he’d already started to die of septicaemia. I carried him down the stairs and put him on the table – the table you were on – and I knocked him out with chloroform. I will never forget the frightened look on his face as I did. I told him to trust me. I told him that he would be fine. He died while my hands were inside him. I could feel the blood stop moving in his body. I felt him die.” All those years of study and he couldn’t save his friend from such a menial ailment.

Little J’s hand tightened over his which caused him to look up at her. He saw that her blue eyes had become glassy as a single tear spilled over the rim. “I’m so sorry,” she said quietly. “That is a terrible thing to endure.”