William Monk 08 - The Silent Cry

time or effort of reading. If it did not stir the intellect, the emotions or theimagination, what point was there in it? Should she read him the railway timetable?
    But she had merely nodded and answered obediently.
    When Sylvestra Duff came into the room she was a complete surprise. Hester had not formed a picture of her in her mind, but she realized she had expected someone as anodyne as Dr. Wade’s regimen for Rhys. Sylvestra was anything but bland. She was, very naturally, dressed entirely in black, but on her tall, very slender figure, and with her intense coloring, it was dramatic and most flattering. She was pale with shock still, and moved as if she needed to be careful in case in her daze she bumped into things, but there was a grace and a composure in her which Hester could not help but admire. Her first impression was most favorable.
    She stood up immediately. “Good morning, Mrs. Duff. I am Hester Latterly, the nurse Dr. Wade engaged in your behalf to care for your son during his convalescence.”
    “How do you do, Miss Latterly.” Sylvestra spoke with a low voice, and rather slowly, as if she measured her words before she uttered them. “I am grateful you could come. You must have nursed many young men who have been terribly injured.”
    “Yes, I have.” Hester considered adding something to the effect that a large number of them had made startling recoveries, even from the most appalling circumstances, then she looked at Sylvestra’s calm eyes and decided it would be shallow and sound as if she were minimizing the truth. And she had not yet seen Rhys Duff; she had no idea for herself of his condition. Dr. Riley’s pinched face and anxious eyes, his expressed desire to hear of the young man’s progress, indicated that his fears were deep that Rhys would recover slowly, if at all. Dr. Wade had also seemed in some personal distress as he spoke of it to her when engaging her.
    “We have prepared a room for you next to my son’s,” Sylvestra continued, “and arranged a bell so that he can call you if he should need you. Of course, he cannot ring it, but he can knock it off onto the floor, and you will hear.” She was thinking of all the practical details, speaking too quickly to cover her emotion. “The kitchen will serve you meals, ofcourse, at whatever time may prove most suitable. You must advise Cook what you think best for my son from day to day. I hope you will be comfortable. If you have any other requirements, please tell me, and I shall do all I can to meet them.”
    “Thank you,” Hester acknowledged. “I am sure that will be satisfactory.”
    The shadow of a smile touched Sylvestra’s mouth. “I imagine the footman has taken your luggage upstairs. Do you wish to see your room first and perhaps change your attire?”
    “Thank you, but I should prefer to meet Mr. Duff before anything else,” Hester replied. “And perhaps you could tell me a little more about him.”
    “About him?” Sylvestra looked puzzled.
    “His nature, his interests,” Hester answered gently. “Dr. Wade said that the shock has temporarily robbed him of speech. I shall know of him only what you tell me, to begin with. I should not like to cause him any unnecessary annoyance or distress by ignorance. Also …” She hesitated.
    Sylvestra waited, with no idea what Hester meant.
    Hester took a breath.
    “Also I must know if you have told him of his father’s death.…”
    Sylvestra’s face cleared as she understood. “Of course! I’m sorry for being so slow to understand. Yes, I have told him. I did not think it right to keep it from him. He will have to face it. I do not want him to believe I have lied to him.”
    “I cannot imagine how difficult it must be for you,” Hester said. “I am sorry I had to ask.”
    Sylvestra was silent for a moment, as if she too was stunned even by the thought of what had happened to her in the space of a few days. Her husband was dead and her son was desperately ill, locked in his own world of isolation, hearing and seeing but unable to speak, unable to communicate with anyone the terror and the pain he must feel.
    “I’ll try to tell you something about him,” Sylvestra replied. “It … it is difficult to think of the kind of things which would help.” She turned to lead the way out of the room and across the hall to the stairs. At the bottom she looked back at Hester.“I am afraid that because of the nature of the incident, we have the police returning