disappointed . . .’
‘Oh! Not at all.’ Cecily shook her head. ‘How does her chest sound?’
‘Too wheezy for my liking. I think your diagnosis is correct, Mrs Forsythe. Your maid is on the cusp of developing pneumonia. It’s a good job you called me when you did.’
‘Do you have anything to give her?’
‘I do indeed. It’s a new wonder-drug called penicillin and it’s technically only available in hospitals and administered by injections. I had a couple of patients presenting with much the same symptoms as your maid here and was able to beg some from the hospital. They are both recovering beautifully.’
Dr Barnes dug in his bag once more and produced a small bottle and some syringes. ‘It has to be administered four times daily over five days. Have you ever given an injection, Mrs Forsythe?’
‘As a matter of fact, I have, yes. My husband Bill was deeply clawed by a dying cheetah some years ago and our doctor prescribed morphea for it. He taught me how to inject it to ease the pain while he recovered.’
‘You were allowed to administer morphea yourself?’ Dr Barnes looked shocked.
‘As I said, when one lives miles from anywhere, one becomes quite self-sufficient,’ Cecily said. ‘I’m quite capable of giving an injection.’
‘That’s very helpful,’ Dr Barnes said. ‘The posterior is the best place of entry for such drugs. I’ll supervise your administration of the first one, and then it’s the same dose four times daily. You should see a change within forty-eight hours. Also, bring up some steaming bowls of water to help with her breathing.’
Dr Barnes helped her measure out the correct dosage, then watched as she gave Lankenua the injection. He nodded in approval.
‘Well done, Mrs Forsythe. You’re quite the nurse. Now, I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow.’
‘Goodness, you really don’t have to.’
‘Why, that’s what I’m here for, and after all, we’d like it if you could be well for your first Christmas in Manhattan, wouldn’t we?’ he said to Lankenua, who nodded at him weakly. ‘Right then, until tomorrow.’ Dr Barnes smiled at them all then left the room.
‘Tomorrow I’m going to take Stella out shopping for some warm clothes and to see Santa at Bloomingdale’s,’ said Cecily. ‘She’s bored with her mama sick in bed.’
‘She can always go to the kitchen and have the staff take care of her. You seem rather attached to that child.’ Dorothea eyed her daughter. ‘She is your maid’s child, not a relative.’
‘Maybe things are different in Africa, Dorothea,’ countered Walter.
‘Maybe they are, but I don’t think that I have ever seen a white woman wandering around Bloomingdale’s with a black child. Have you?’
‘Times are changing, dear,’ said Walter. ‘I was reading in the New York Times only last week that the number of black male entrants to both Yale and Harvard is on the rise.’
‘What about female students?’ Cecily muttered under her breath.
‘What was that, honey?’ Dorothea asked her.
‘Oh, nothing. Has Mary made up the spare room next to mine for Stella? If not, I can do it.’
‘The spare room is always made up, as you well know, Cecily. Though why it’s necessary to move her downstairs, I really don’t know.’
‘Because of the risk of infection, Mama. Dr Barnes told me I should keep Stella away until her mother is better,’ Cecily lied. ‘Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I must go and check on Lankenua.’ Cecily rose from the table. ‘Oh, and I thought I’d call in to the Stanhope Hotel where Kiki is staying. I want to take her a gift for Christmas.’
‘I called them today, but her mother said Kiki wasn’t seeing visitors.’
‘Well, I can at least leave my gift at reception for her. Goodnight, Mama, Papa.’
Cecily left the table and went upstairs to the attic, where she was pleased to see that Lankenua was sleeping peacefully and her forehead felt cooler. She’d wake her at ten o’clock for the next dose of medicine.
Stella, whom Cecily had left in her own room whilst the adults had dinner, was now sitting on Cecily’s bed in her nightdress, engrossed in an old picture book called ’Twas the Night Before Christmas.
‘How is Yeyo?’ Stella looked up anxiously.
‘Oh, she’s getting better already, honey. Let’s take you to your very own bedroom now.’ Cecily offered her hand to Stella and led her to the room next to hers where she had asked Mary to light the fire earlier so it was toasty warm. ‘Into bed you get,’ Cecily said, tucking Stella in.
‘Can Yeyo come down