13 - The Midsummer Rose Read Free Page B

long we might have remained so – I was quite content to stay that way forever – is a moot point, but, as usual, our private moment was rudely interrupted. The room was suddenly full of people – my former mother-in-law and three children to be precise. But, as always with my nearest and dearest, it felt as if the hordes of Genghis Khan had invaded.
    ‘A fine scare you’ve given us!’ Margaret Walker upbraided me, standing at the foot of the bed, her arms akimbo. ‘Falling into the river like that! You could have been drowned! Don’t tell me! I suppose you were drunk!’
    My feeble attempts at denial were frustrated by Elizabeth and Nicholas, who clambered on to the bed, hauling Adam up after them. My son promptly gave a scream of delight and threw himself across my face in a determined endeavour to smother me.
    ‘Ge’m off!’ I mumbled.
    Fortunately, Adela was able to interpret this anguished, but muffled cry, and lifted Adam on to the floor, setting him down alongside Hercules, where he immediately gave vent to a howl that could split the eardrums.
    My daughter, ignoring her half-brother’s tantrum with practised ease, said reproachfully, ‘You didn’t bring us home any presents like you promised. We know, ’cause Nick and I searched your jerkin pockets. Your scrip was empty, too.’
    Her stepbrother nodded in agreement, then sniffed, wrinkling his nose. ‘Why do you smell so funny?’
    ‘Hercules has been licking me.’ I tried not to sound as irritable as I felt, at the same time trying to remember where I had put the small gifts I’d bought for the children. Memory came flooding back. ‘They’re in my pack …’
    My pack! Where was it? It must still be in that house. My cudgel, too! My money, thank God, the takings of a fortnight, had all been in my pouch. But where was that? Had it survived my immersion in the river? I propped myself on one elbow, dislodging Elizabeth and Nicholas. They started to grizzle.
    ‘My pack, cudgel, money—’ I began frantically, but Adela hushed me, laying a cool, if floury, hand on my forehead.
    ‘Shhh! They’re quite safe.’ She turned to her cousin. ‘Margaret, would you be kind enough to take the children away, my dear? And that flea-ridden hound.’ Hercules gave her one of his looks. ‘Roger needs rest and quiet. After a week in bed, his strength is bound to be at a very low ebb.’
    But her words only started me off again. As Margaret ushered children and dog from the room, I raised myself on both elbows.
    ‘A week?’ I gasped. ‘You mean I’ve been unconscious for a week?’
    ‘Not totally unconscious, no. You’ve been extremely feverish, not knowing anyone, not knowing where you were, talking a lot of gibberish.’ My wife leaned forward to kiss my cheek, but paused, grimacing. She reached for the ewer and a cloth, poured water into a basin and proceeded to bathe my face. ‘There, that’s better. You smell a bit less like a sewer and more like your normal self.’ I wondered uneasily what my normal self smelled like, but decided not to ask.
    She was trying to keep her tone light, but I could tell that she was still deeply anxious about me. I squeezed her hand.
    ‘I’m all right. There’s nothing to worry about. I shall be fit and strong again in plenty of time for the midsummer revels, you’ll see. I just want to know what’s happened.’
    ‘We all want to know that,’ Margaret Walker remarked with asperity, coming back into the room. She seated herself on the opposite side of the bed to my wife. ‘Now then, Roger, how in the name of heaven did you come to fall in the Avon?’
    ‘Never mind that for the moment,’ I retorted peevishly. ‘What I want to know is who pulled me out. And what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home, in Redcliffe?’
    Margaret was offended, as she had every right to be. My rudeness was unpardonable, but her constant presence, when all I wanted was to be alone with Adela, was beginning to irk me.
    ‘What