Master of His Fate. Barbara Taylor Bradford

three of them jumped and looked startled at the sound of knocking on the door. It was James who immediately stood up, motioned the others to remain where they were.

      The knocking started again as he reached the front door. ‘What do you want? Who is it?’ he asked, having been instructed time and again never to let anyone into the house if they were alone.

      ‘It’s me, James. Grandpapa. When your grandmother arrived back, she said your mother needed rest and she sent me to see if the three of you are all right.’

      James turned the key and opened the door to let his grandfather in. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting.’ James explained to Philip, ‘Dad has drilled it into the three of us not to open the door unless we know who’s there.’

      ‘Very wise,’ Philip answered, and he and James walked into the kitchen, where Philip was immediately assaulted by Eddie and Rossi, who threw themselves at him, hugging him.

      When he finally became disentangled, he turned to James. ‘Shall I go upstairs and look in on your mother? Or is she resting?’

      ‘Perhaps she’s still asleep,’ James answered, ‘I’ll creep up and take a look.’

      Philip nodded, and allowed himself to be pulled further into the kitchen. Having been taught to be polite, Rossi asked, ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Grandpapa?’

      He shook his head, and then looked towards the door as he heard the key in the lock turning. ‘I think your father has arrived.’

       FIVE

      Matthew stared at his father, alarm rushing through him. Why was he here? Had Maude become worse?

      As if reading his son’s mind, Philip said, ‘I just dropped in to see how Maude is doing, Matt. Although when she got home, your mother told me it was definitely only a chill.’

      ‘And what do you think, Dad?’

      ‘I haven’t seen her yet—’

      James interjected, ‘I was just upstairs, Father, and she’s sleeping.’

      Relaxing, Matthew walked into the kitchen and opened his arms as his two younger children rushed towards him across the floor. He kissed them both, and then straightened. Turning to James, he asked, ‘Has your mother taken the raspberry vinegar?’

      ‘Yes, I sat there while she sipped it and fell asleep. It must have knock-out drops in it, or something like that.’

      He’s far too bright for his own good, Philip thought, but said, ‘Don’t be silly, James. It’s the cherry juice your grandmother puts in it that makes a person sleepy and soothes a sore throat.’

      Matthew walked towards the door, turned to look back at his father. ‘Will you have supper with us?’

      ‘I’ll stay a bit longer, go up and see Maude after you, but I can’t linger. I told your mother I would have dinner with her tonight. We don’t often get a chance to do that.’

      Matthew nodded, hurried out, flew up the stairs two at a time, and then paused on the landing, took a deep breath and calmed himself before pushing open the bedroom door. He went in as quietly as possible, then realized Maude was awake.

      ‘Matt,’ she whispered hoarsely when he sat down next to the bed, and reached out her hand to him.

      He took hold of it, leaned closer, his eyes searching her face. She was extremely pale and her forehead was damp. When he tried to kiss her, she moved her head. ‘I don’t want you to catch cold.’

      Smiling at her, he ignored her words and kissed her cheek anyway.

      ‘It seems very hot in here, Maude.’

      ‘I am a bit warm.’ she answered.

      He jumped up and went to the window. Although it was six thirty, it was still light outside. He opened the top and bottom of the sash window, shaking his head as he did so. Like every Victorian, he suffered from paranoia about his home not having sufficient oxygen. ‘I don’t understand why this is closed,’ he muttered. ‘We’re all fully aware we must have oxygen circulating through every room. The whole country knows it.’

      He walked back to the bed, continuing, ‘We mustn’t let carbonic acid build up because we don’t have proper ventilation.’

      Sitting down, he took her hand again and stared at Maude. ‘Breathe in, love, you need fresh air. It’ll help you get better.’

      ‘It was becoming stifling in here, but I just didn’t have the strength to get out of bed to open the window,’ she murmured.

      ‘What else can I do to make you more comfortable? Are you thirsty? Do you want a glass of water? Or perhaps some chicken soup? Are you hungry?’

      ‘I have no appetite at all. I think I’d just like to rest here, maybe doze off again. Sleep is the best thing for me right now.’

      ‘Dad’s downstairs, Maude. He came to see you.’

      ‘Oh, that’s nice of him. Tell him to come up.’

      ‘I will. And I’ll get supper going, although I think Rossi has started doing that already.’

      A faint smile touched Maude’s face. ‘No doubt.’

      A moment later, Philip Falconer was seated in the bedside chair. His love for Maude was reflected in his eyes; he could only hope and pray that his two other sons, Harry and George, would be lucky enough to marry women like her. ‘I felt I had to come by to see you for myself, Maude. Naturally, I trust Dr Robertson’s diagnosis and Esther’s opinion. On the other hand, I do worry about the entire family. And I just can’t help being concerned about you, after that terrible bout of bronchitis you had last year.’

      ‘I know that, Dad,’ she answered, using the name she had called him since her marriage to Matthew. ‘This time it is just a bad chill. I’ll be better in a few days.’

      ‘Do you promise?’

      ‘I do.’ She smiled at him, her face ringed with affection.

      ‘Then I shall walk home with a lighter heart. And I know you’re in good hands with Matthew and the children to take care of you.’

      When he went downstairs, his grandchildren begged him to stay for supper with them. He told them he couldn’t, explaining that their grandmother was waiting for him.

      ‘Why didn’t Maw come with you?’ Eddie asked. He had never been able to say grandmother. Only Maw came out of his mouth as a small child, and that she had been ever since.

      ‘Maw is busy working on that rag rug she’s making for you,’ Philip said. Kissing the three of them and walking over to his son, he took Matthew’s arm, and led him into the hall.

      ‘Maude will be all right, Matt, just make sure she gets plenty of liquids, and don’t let her leave that bed for a few days. Oh, and keep the room cool, as you have it now.’

      ‘I will,’ Matthew replied, and gave his father a questioning look. ‘Is there something special in that raspberry vinegar Mum takes?’

      Philip couldn’t help laughing. ‘No. Just cherry juice, as I told James.’ He eyed his son, amusement still flickering on his face. ‘Fancy you asking me that at the age of thirty-seven. Has anybody in this family ever died after drinking it?’

      Matthew joined in his laughter. ‘Oh, Dad, you are a card. There’s nobody like you.’

      Philip drew his son closer and gave him a bear hug. ‘Have a good night, son,’ he murmured and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

      It was a nice evening and Philip decided to walk back to Regent’s Park.

      His thoughts lingered on Maude. His lovely daughter-in-law was more frail than she looked, and had a tendency