A Swift Pure Cry by Siobhan Dowd

'What's wrong with Jimmy, then?' the doctor said. 'Has he a fever?'
    'I think it's meningitis, Doctor. The flu you get in the head.'
    'Doubt it,' the doctor said. 'No outbreaks at present, as far as I know. Where'd you get that idea?'
    'Father Rose, Doctor.'
    'Father Rose!' The doctor snorted. He shook his head. 'What's he got to do with it?'
    'Nothing. Only he told me about it today, see. His brother had it.'
    'Did he indeed?' Dr Fallon shook his head and accelerated. 'That young curate's full of notions.'
    Shell didn't reply. She thought of Jimmy in his hot, fevered agony, and Michael Rose who'd been named for an archangel, dying young. They sped round the last sharp turn. The grey breezeblock wall that marked their bungalow loomed ahead through the darkness. She realized she'd left the front door wide open in her panic.
    Dr Fallon followed her into the house, through the kitchen and down to the back room, to Jimmy's bed.
    Trix woke up when they came in, whimpering in confusion. Shell went over to her. 'Whisht, Trix,' she murmured. The doctor went over to Jimmy. Shell heard him say, 'Hello, young man...' but she didn't stop to hear more. Mam had often told her when she lay dying that the doctor's visits were private. Shell wrapped Trix up in a blanket and carried her in her wet, muddy arms to the kitchen. She plumped her down in Dad's armchair and mimed a shush . Then she crept into the hall, to the door that led off to Dad's bedroom. She listened at the keyhole. She could just hear the sound of him snoring. She came back to the kitchen, got out the comb and went over Trix's hair again.
    Dr Fallon soon joined them. 'Where's your father?' he said.
    Shell stared at him. There was a scrape in his voice. A cold fist yanked her insides. 'Is he that bad, Doctor?' she said.
    'Jimmy? No-he's only an infection.'
    'It's not the meningitis?'
    'Of course not. You can get that notion out of your head. He's a cut below the shoulder that's gone bad. I've given him an injection and some pills.'
    'So-I was on time calling you?'
    'You were, Shell-with time to spare. He'll be right as rain. But I'm glad we didn't leave it longer. He's been running a fever. He must have cut it days ago. Did you not notice?'
    Shell shook her head. 'No, Doctor. I didn't.' Days. He'd been hurt for days and she hadn't known? She hung her head. Dear Jesus . She thought of all the times she'd slapped Jimmy, feeling a rage with him that she didn't understand. Dear Jesus, forgive me for my lack of loving .
    'You weren't to know, Shell,' Dr Fallon said. His voice was different. The scrape had gone out of it. 'But I'd like a word with your father.'
    'He's in bed, Doctor. He's gone asleep again. Since he sent me for you, I mean.'
    The doctor walked out to the hall. Shell heard him open her dad's door. He came back with a wrinkle on his nose. 'I see,' he said. He looked sharply at Shell and at Trix, who'd a thumb in her mouth, a habit she'd gone back to in their troubles. 'I see.' He picked up his bag. 'Make sure Jimmy has a pill with his food. Three times a day. And get yourself out of those wet clothes.' He shook his head, glanced around at the kitchen as if it smelled bad. 'Good luck,' he said, and left.
    Shell put Trix back to bed. Then she crept over to Jimmy. 'Are you awake, Jimmy?'
    He opened his eyes.
    'Is it sore?' she whispered.
    He nodded. 'A small bit.'
    'Can I see it?'
    He eased his arm out from the pyjama top. 'It stung mad when he wiped it,' Jimmy said.
    An angry gash of about an inch was halfway between his elbow and shoulder. It had gone a crusty yellow, with red skin all around. She felt the hot hard mound around it.
    'How'd you do that, Jimmy?'
    'It was a stone,' he said.
    'A stone?'
    He nodded. 'The other morning. I found this sharp small stone. Only I didn't put it on the cairn. I tried it out. To see if it was sharp enough to cut.'
    Shell nodded. 'I see.'
    'I've it in my treasure box still.'
    'You should throw it out, Jimmy. A bad stone like