Highgate Rise - Anne Perry [74]
“Whoa! Steady—steady now. It’s all right—steady, girl. Hold hard!” And miraculously for once he was completely successful. The animal stopped and stood still, shuddering and rolling its eyes. “Steady,” he said again, full of relief, and began to lead it across the road, away from the roar and heat, and away from Shaw.
“The servants.” At last Shaw spoke. He twisted around on one foot and swayed a little. “What about the servants? Where are they? Are they hurt?”
“Not seriously,” Pitt replied. “They’ll be all right.”
Clitheridge was still across the street with the horse and trap, leading it away, but Oliphant the curate was coming towards them, his thin face lit by the glare from the flames, his figure gawky in a coat whose shoulders were too big. He stopped in front of them and his voice was quiet and certain.
“Dr. Shaw; I lodge with Mrs. Turner up on West Hill. She has other rooms and you’d be welcome to stay there as long as you choose. There is nothing you can do here, and I think a strong cup of tea, some hot water to wash in, and then sleep would help you to face tomorrow.”
Shaw opened his mouth to argue, then realized that Oliphant had not offered facile words of comfort. He had offered practical help and reminded him that there was another day ahead, and regardless of pain or shock, there would be duties, things to do that would be useful and have meaning.
“I—” He struggled for the practical. “I have no-nothing—it is all gone—again—”
“Of course,” Oliphant agreed. “I have an extra nightshirt you are welcome to, and a razor, soap, a clean shirt. Anything I have is yours.”
Shaw tried to cling to the moment, as if something could still be retrieved, some horror undone that would become fixed if he were to leave. It was as though accepting it made it true. Pitt knew the feeling, irrational and yet so strong it held one to the scene of tragedy because to move was to acknowledge it and allow it to be real.
“The servants,” Shaw said again. “What about them? Where are they to sleep? I must—” He turned one way and another, frantic for some action to help, and saw none.
Oliphant nodded, his face red in the flames’ reflection, his voice level. “Mary and Mrs. Wiggins will stay with Mr. and Mrs. Hatch, and Jones will stay with Mr. Clitheridge.”
Shaw stared at him. Two firemen went past supporting a third between them.
“We shall begin to search for new positions for them in the morning.” Oliphant held out his hand. “There are plenty of people who want good, reliable help that has been well trained. Don’t worry about it. They are frightened, but not hurt. They need sleep and the assurance that they will not be put on the street.”
Shaw looked at him incredulously.
“Come,” Oliphant repeated. “You cannot help here—”
“I can’t just—just walk away!” Shaw protested. “My friend is in that—” He stared helplessly at the blaze, now redder and sinking as the last of the wood crumbled away inside and the masonry collapsed inward. He searched for words to explain the tumult of emotions inside him, and failed. There were tears in the grime on his face. His hands clenched at his sides and jerked as if he still longed to move violently, and had no idea where or how.
“Yes you can leave it,” Oliphant insisted. “There is no one left here; but tomorrow there will be people who need you—sick, frightened people who trust you to be there and use the knowledge you have to help them.”
Shaw stared at him, horror in his face turning to a slow amazement. Then finally, without speaking, he followed him obediently, his shoulders sagging, his feet slow, as if he were bruised, and intensely, painfully tired.
Pitt watched him go and felt a racking mixture of emotions inside himself; pity for Shaw’s grief and the stunning pain he obviously felt, fury at the fearful waste of it, and a kind of anger because he did not know who to blame for it all, who to cherish and who to want to hunt and see punished. It was like having a dam pent up inside him and the pressure of confusion ached to burst in some easy and total action, and yet there was none.
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