and gasped his reply in short, staccato phrases, pulling in a rasping breath between each one. ‘No – it’s all right. It’s just an asthma
attack.’
It was very frightening to watch the young boy fight for each breath, his skin shining with sweat, his lips tinged with blue, yet Kitty was not afraid. Before she had come into service, she had
often sat through the night with her younger brother, Timothy, while her mother had a few hours’ rest.
‘My mother says – you’re her new – maid. And Miriam’s too.’
Kitty avoided a direct answer by saying, ‘I don’t think you ought to try to talk, Master Edward. Lie quietly. Shall I come back when you’re feeling better?’
‘No . . .’ His voice was high-pitched. ‘Don’t leave me. Please – stay. I – don’t want to be alone.’ His hands plucked at the edge of the
bedclothes covering him.
She moved to the side of the bed and hitched herself up to sit on the edge. ‘My brother Timothy gets asthma. Me mam always tells him to lie ever so still and try to let himself go limp all
over. Ya know, like this.’ Kitty slumped her shoulders, dropped her head and let her arms and hands relax completely. ‘And try to breathe gently. Don’t try to take in deep
breaths, just little ones.’
The boy let out a breath and his hands lay still. He closed his eyes and for a moment there was no sound in the room. Kitty watched him. Now he wasn’t breathing at all.
‘Ya’ve got to breathe a bit, though, Master Edward.’
A small smile twitched the corner of his mouth and his eyes opened. He tried to taking a gentle, shallow breath and then pushed it out again, wheezing as he did so.
He followed her instructions for several minutes, not saying anything, while Kitty sat beside him, just watching.
‘It’s a horrid feeling,’ he said at last. ‘As if someone’s sitting on your chest.’
Kitty smiled. ‘Timothy always ses it’s like being buried in a haystack.’
‘I know – what he means.’ He paused for another few moments, concentrating on his shallow breathing and trying to lie still. Then he said, ‘Talk to me Kitty. Tell me
about your family.’
‘Why should you want to know about my family? We’re not anybody interesting.’
‘You are to me, Kitty Clegg,’ he murmured, so softly that she scarcely caught his words.
Kitty shrugged. Maybe, she thought with sudden intuition, any conversation was preferable to the lonely hours he spent shut away in his sickroom.
‘Well, now,’ she said settling herself more comfortably on the bed beside him. ‘There’s me mam and dad and us eight kids.’
‘Eight? Heavens!’
‘Lie still, Master Edward, and don’t talk, else I won’t stay.’
‘Please, Kitty. Go on. I won’t say another word.’
‘Promise?’
The boy pressed his lips together and nodded.
‘Me dad’s the stationmaster and we live in one of the station houses. Me mam cleans the waiting room and the offices, an’ that.’ She paused and then added, ‘I
didn’t know until I came to work here three years ago that me mam used to work for your grandmother.’
The boy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but remembering his promise just in time he closed it again, giving a slight shrug with his thin shoulders as a negative reply.
Kitty nodded, as if understanding what he had been going to say. ‘No, you’ll not remember it, ’cos it was before I was born, before me man and dad were married. Anyway,’
she went on, ‘I’m the eldest at sixteen, then there’s our George who works on the land. Then there’s Timothy, he’s the one who has asthma, then Milly, she’s
thirteen and she’s just come to work here to take my place as kitchen maid. After her, there’s Grace, Jane and the little one, Bobbie.’
Silently, Edward held up seven fingers and looked at her questioningly.
‘Oh yes,’ Kitty murmured and a note of sadness crept into her voice. ‘There was eight of us. Little Connie died not long after I
attack.’
It was very frightening to watch the young boy fight for each breath, his skin shining with sweat, his lips tinged with blue, yet Kitty was not afraid. Before she had come into service, she had
often sat through the night with her younger brother, Timothy, while her mother had a few hours’ rest.
‘My mother says – you’re her new – maid. And Miriam’s too.’
Kitty avoided a direct answer by saying, ‘I don’t think you ought to try to talk, Master Edward. Lie quietly. Shall I come back when you’re feeling better?’
‘No . . .’ His voice was high-pitched. ‘Don’t leave me. Please – stay. I – don’t want to be alone.’ His hands plucked at the edge of the
bedclothes covering him.
She moved to the side of the bed and hitched herself up to sit on the edge. ‘My brother Timothy gets asthma. Me mam always tells him to lie ever so still and try to let himself go limp all
over. Ya know, like this.’ Kitty slumped her shoulders, dropped her head and let her arms and hands relax completely. ‘And try to breathe gently. Don’t try to take in deep
breaths, just little ones.’
The boy let out a breath and his hands lay still. He closed his eyes and for a moment there was no sound in the room. Kitty watched him. Now he wasn’t breathing at all.
‘Ya’ve got to breathe a bit, though, Master Edward.’
A small smile twitched the corner of his mouth and his eyes opened. He tried to taking a gentle, shallow breath and then pushed it out again, wheezing as he did so.
He followed her instructions for several minutes, not saying anything, while Kitty sat beside him, just watching.
‘It’s a horrid feeling,’ he said at last. ‘As if someone’s sitting on your chest.’
Kitty smiled. ‘Timothy always ses it’s like being buried in a haystack.’
‘I know – what he means.’ He paused for another few moments, concentrating on his shallow breathing and trying to lie still. Then he said, ‘Talk to me Kitty. Tell me
about your family.’
‘Why should you want to know about my family? We’re not anybody interesting.’
‘You are to me, Kitty Clegg,’ he murmured, so softly that she scarcely caught his words.
Kitty shrugged. Maybe, she thought with sudden intuition, any conversation was preferable to the lonely hours he spent shut away in his sickroom.
‘Well, now,’ she said settling herself more comfortably on the bed beside him. ‘There’s me mam and dad and us eight kids.’
‘Eight? Heavens!’
‘Lie still, Master Edward, and don’t talk, else I won’t stay.’
‘Please, Kitty. Go on. I won’t say another word.’
‘Promise?’
The boy pressed his lips together and nodded.
‘Me dad’s the stationmaster and we live in one of the station houses. Me mam cleans the waiting room and the offices, an’ that.’ She paused and then added, ‘I
didn’t know until I came to work here three years ago that me mam used to work for your grandmother.’
The boy’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth, but remembering his promise just in time he closed it again, giving a slight shrug with his thin shoulders as a negative reply.
Kitty nodded, as if understanding what he had been going to say. ‘No, you’ll not remember it, ’cos it was before I was born, before me man and dad were married. Anyway,’
she went on, ‘I’m the eldest at sixteen, then there’s our George who works on the land. Then there’s Timothy, he’s the one who has asthma, then Milly, she’s
thirteen and she’s just come to work here to take my place as kitchen maid. After her, there’s Grace, Jane and the little one, Bobbie.’
Silently, Edward held up seven fingers and looked at her questioningly.
‘Oh yes,’ Kitty murmured and a note of sadness crept into her voice. ‘There was eight of us. Little Connie died not long after I
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