The house was strangely quiet.
When Grace left with her family, I wanted to run after the carriage and get in with her and be carried away. Not be left behind with Mamma and Tom, as if we'd been marooned.
Mamma was inconsolable so I took over the running of the house. I kept expecting to hear Papa arriving home, to see him at breakfast. Every day it came to me, with a fresh jolt, that I would never see him again. But I still couldn't accept it.
The days went by, each as blank and dreary as the one before, and after a while, at the back of my mind a little voice started up, asking: what will happen to me now?
It seemed wrong to be thinking about myself at such a time, but I could see my life stretching in front of me, with nothing in it but staying at home and looking after Mamma.
At the thought of it, I felt stifled and a kind of dread filled me.
I had to do something.
Before he became too ill, I'd told Papa about my dreams. He said he was proud of me and it made my heart swell. But he'd warned me not to speak of my plans to Mamma until he'd talked to her first. I was sure he hadn't—she hadn't mentioned it. Now it was too late. I knew she'd never agree but I clung to one hope—maybe Tom could persuade her.
He and I had scarcely spoken since he'd come home. He'd spent time with Mamma, but largely ignored me. I didn't want him to leave with things as they were. Surely we'd be able to mend the breach...
***
I found Tom in Papa's study. I was dismayed to see that he was sorting books into piles. "What are you doing?"
"Mother said I could take anything that would be useful. I'm leaving tomorrow, you know."
Papa's books...
Aside from the fact that I might want to use them, I couldn't bear to see them going. But I swallowed my protest. I didn't want a row now, when I needed him to be on my side.
I'd decided to approach the subject of my future in a roundabout way, so I said tentatively, "Are you enjoying your studies? Are things progressing well?"
He shrugged. "Well enough."
"You know Mamma's unhappy about you going back to London. Now you've completed a year, had you thought of transferring to the hospital at Leeds? Then you'd be able to come home more often. Mamma would be pleased, and so would I."
As I said this, I realised it was true. Perhaps it was something to do with the loss of Papa, but I wanted to feel closer to my brother, to know him better. And not just because we shared the same interest in medicine...
Surely, now that we were older, this was possible?
Tom scowled. "Why would I want to transfer? Everyone knows the London teaching hospitals are the best. And if I want to get on—"
"Get on? What do you mean?"
He rolled his eyes as if he couldn't be bothered to explain it all to me and took another book off the shelf.
"Aren't you coming back here—to the practice?"
He appeared to be studying the title of the book intently. "To tell you the truth, Lou, I'm not interested in that anymore."
"But I thought Grandpapa intended—"
He cut in. "Things have changed since Grandpapa's day. I could be a top consultant in the West End, earning thousand of pounds a year."
I stared at him. "Did Papa know about this?"
His cheeks reddened and he dropped his eyes. "No. I was going to tell him..."
We both fell silent. I felt sure Papa would have been unhappy about Tom's plan, but I couldn't speak of it. Even to think about Papa made my throat tighten.
I looked around the study—all the other familiar things were still here: Papa's Gladstone bag, his pewter tobacco jar, the owl pipe-rack. It all looked just the same and yet it wasn't.
I swallowed. "Mamma will be upset, don't you think?"
He put the book down and took another. The silence lengthened.
I noticed that there were dark smudges under his eyes. Perhaps he'd been studying too hard. "How did your exams go?"
"Oh, well enough," he said again. He added hastily, "We haven't had the results yet." There was something odd about his tone, but I didn't want to press him. This might be my last chance to talk to him about my future. I had to seize it.
I took a deep breath, then the words came tumbling out. "Tom, there's something I wanted to ask you. I spoke to Papa about it and he agreed, but I don't think Mamma will, but she might, if you ask her."
Tom's frowned. "What are you talking about, Lou?"
"I want to be a doctor too."
Tom stared at me. I waited, praying that he'd understand. But to my astonishment, he started laughing. "A doctor! Don't be ridiculous, Lou. How could you be a doctor?" He shook his head and slapped his leg as if this was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.
His mockery stung, but I also felt a burning sensation in my chest, as if someone had lit a fuse. Why was it so ridiculous?
"Why not?"
"It's not something a woman can do."
"But there are women—"
He snorted. "Yes, but it's preposterous!"