My Dearest Darling

Chapter 39

Robert had been given this hope of the doctors trying to save her after spending weeks trying to come to terms with the reality of having to say goodbye long before her time should have come. Rosamund couldn't blame him for imagining only the worst things to happen.

It still worried her greatly how broken her brother was deep down — he had seemed to be coping so well at Mama's funeral, and even when they returned from America, he was not too different from his usual self. He was not ecstatic or overjoyed, that much was to be expected, but he appeared calm and collected when they stopped and stayed with her in London. Rosamund had silently admired him for how well he seemed to shoulder everything. He didn't look as if he spent his days sitting near a window, watching the world pass by with tears running down his face, tears that seemed to never end. He did not look as if he was coping as badly as she was. But the man sitting next to her in the waiting area seemed nothing like that man she had called her brother for the last six decades, he seemed so different to the Robert who had always tried to stay optimistic, who helped her so much when Marmaduke had passed. Had he been broken like this the entire time since they lost their mother, only putting on a brave face for her and everyone else; was all of this just a strategically placed masquerade that he had shown them the last few weeks and months? Surely not — someone would have noticed, right? He had never been good at hiding his emotions. He had always carried his heart on his sleeve, ever since they were children, much to their mother's dismay. She frequently said he was too much like his father, much too open and also too lenient and forgiving to those undeserving.

Rosamund felt him tense up when she put her arms around him and it took a few seconds of her holding him tight for Robert to let go and relax slightly. When she still wouldn't let go of him, he eventually started to hug her back and they stayed that way, silent, for a while.

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He had just dozed off, sitting at her bedside and holding her small, cold hand in both of his, when the door to her room opened again. Carefully, trying not to disturb their slumbering father, Mary and Edith entered after the nurse had opened the door and peered into the room.

Gently, Mary tried to wake Robert by whispering his name and nudging him on the shoulder.

"What? Is she waking up?" he asked, appearing quite disoriented when he opened his eyes.

"No, Papa. She is still asleep, it seems," Edith replied quietly with a smile.

"Edith? Mary? Where is your aunt, wasn't she just here?"

"Yes, she was, but we sent her home and you should follow her soon as well. It's been a long day for both of you and you look more than done in," his eldest replied warily.

Edith smiled gratefully at the nurse who had brought in another chair and put it to her mother's bedside, taking a seat opposite her father.

"No, I'll stay," Robert simply said. He sat up straighter, only having eyes for his wife who was lying so terrifyingly still in her bed. Had he not known that the operation had been successful, he would have been worried out of his mind by how motionless she lay in the bed that seemed much too big for her reduced form.

"Papa, we all need to go home soon, they want to close the practice for the day. The nurse won't leave her side even for a second in case Mama wakes up and they will telephone as soon as there is even the slightest change," said Edith, pleading with him with her big brown eyes.

Robert only vehemently shook his head no in reply to Edith's plea.

Mary put her hand on her father's shoulder and tried: "Papa, you are of very little help to her when you are overly tired. You look as if you haven't slept in days, and a bed is sure to guarantee for a better night's rest than any of these chairs here ever could. Come with us, sleep in a comfortable bed and we can come back here tomorrow as soon as they let us in."