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.Nulli Secundus -
'Second to None'
by Terence Cardwell
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Chapter
Twelve - Sonny
Young Annie Lawson was happy with her lot in life. She
had grown up with her grandad for the last four years,
enjoying his company and the stories he told about his
life: stories of when he was a champion ice skater,
winning the English open air championships twice in
succession.
Arthur had been invited to a number of towns where he
was treated like royalty, giving a number of
performances but receiving very little pay for them.
That was in his youth, but he spoke about it as if it
was yesterday. His eyes gleamed and took on a distant
look as he recalled his exploits.
He had skated on the River Trent when it had been frozen
over. He raced against other skaters for fun, did figure
skating and performed complicated movements.
‘All that was long ago,’ Arthur said with a sigh, as he
touched the precious gold-plated ice skates hanging on
the cabin wall. He still kept them polished and shining
like new. They had an engraving on the blades:
‘Presented to Arthur North— Champion Ice Skater,
Northern England, 1882.’
Annie enjoyed sitting on the side of the houseboat
fishing for pike or anything else that might take the
bait of fat and bread affixed to the fish hook. Sonny,
her younger brother, was an avid helper and a keen
fisherman. His proper name was William but everyone
called him Sonny. Usually they only had one line and
took turns holding it.
Today was no different, the weather was mild with blue
skies, scattered white clouds and a cool breeze blowing,
creating little whirlpools on the river. The daylight
was starting to fade into twilight in the summer
evening, casting long shadows across the river. They
were sitting together on the top deck. Sonny was holding
the line, quietly waiting in anticipation. They were
rewarded with a sudden tug. Sonny pulled the line hand
over hand.
‘I got one, I got one,’ he shouted as he pulled it
towards him. The line moved from side to side, offering
great resistance to Sonny’s efforts. It took all his
skill and strength to hang on to the jerking line. He
finally got the fish near the boat, with fishing line
all around his feet.
‘What is it Annie? I can’t see it properly.’
Annie knelt on the deck and carefully put her head
through the railings. ‘It’s a pike, and big enough for
tea.’
‘Oh goody, Grandad can cook it for us,’ Sonny said
excitedly.
With a great deal of effort they managed between them to
pull the pike up on deck, being careful not to put their
fingers near the pike’s mouth, which can give a severe
bite. They carried it by the fishing line and tail to
grandad, who was aft, taking their washed clothes off
the line strung across the back deck of the boat.
‘Look Grandad, look,’ Annie enthused. ‘We’ve got a fish
for tea.’
‘Excellent, we’ll make a nice meal with him, well done,’
he said, taking the fish and laying it on the back deck.
‘Take this washing below and have a wash, and get your
jamas on and I’ll clean the fish.’
They were excited at their catch, and after depositing
the washing basket they pulled out the oval tin tub,
partly filling it with cold water, and washed themselves
with soap and a cloth. After that they put their long
flannelette nightgowns on.
Arthur came down shortly after with the fish and cooked
it in the frying pan, cutting up some potatoes to go
with it.
‘Dinner will be a while so you kids can go and play, and
I’ll call you when it’s ready. You’ve done well, I can
see I’ll make fishermen out of you both.’
Annie and Sonny were very pleased with their success and
went off skipping to their bedroom where they shared a
steel framed bunk bed. Sonny climbed up to the top bunk
and bounced around on the bed.
‘Grandad will be cranky if he sees you doing that,’
Annie chastised.
‘You won’t tell on me, will you?’ Sonny replied, leaning
down.
His grip slipped on the steel pipe. He fell off the bunk
and landed on his back on top of the side rail of the
bottom bunk, his back hitting with a sickening thud. The
impact hit his right side, driving his spleen and kidney
hard against his back and ribs.
Annie watched in horror as she saw her brother fall.
Sonny lay on the floor staring up at Annie, his eyes
wide open as the wind was driven out of him. An
excruciating pain shot through his body, enveloping his
mind in a red haze of agony.
He screamed without realising it and could only stare at
Annie, unable to move.
‘Grandad, Grandad, come quick, Sonny’s badly hurt,’ she
yelled, kneeling alongside her brother.
Arthur heard Annie’s call. The urgency in her voice told
him something was terribly wrong. He hurried to the back
of the boat as fast as his old legs could carry him,
half running and half staggering. A cold fear swept
through him as he saw Sonny lying on his back on the
floor, his face screwed in agony, his screams reduced to
an agonising moan.
‘What happened?’ he asked, bending over to try and see
any injuries.
‘He fell off the top bunk and hit his back on my bed. It
wasn’t my fault, honest Grandad.’
‘Course it wasn’t Annie, but what has he hurt?’ Arthur
slid his hand gently down Sonny’s back. As his hand
neared the middle of his back Sonny screamed again. His
face had turned white and his eyes glazed.
Arthur realised his grandson was very seriously hurt and
had to get him to hospital. ‘But how am I going to do
that?’ he thought. ‘I don’t have any transport, only my
old bike.’ He thought of anyone who might have
transport. ‘There’s no one here, only the boats. Oh God,
he’ll die if I don’t find something,’ he thought.
‘Annie, wait here. I won’t be a minute,’ he said as he
staggered up the cabin steps. He stood on the deck in
the dark looking around him at the other boats.
‘There’s nothing there,’ he muttered. ‘Oh dear God, what
can I do?’ he pleaded as he stared into the darkness of
the fields, the moaning of his grandson ringing in his
ears.
In the distance he saw a glimmer of light in the middle
of the fields.
‘That’s it. The farm. They’ll have a horse and cart,’
he said. ‘Oh, but it’s so slow. Still, it’s all we’ve
got,’ he muttered as he hurried as quickly as he could
shuffle back below deck.
‘Annie, hurry to the Pitt’s farm and ask to borrow their
horse and cart, quick as you can. Can you do that,
love?’ he added in a shaky voice.
‘Yes Grandad, I’ll be quick as I can,’ Annie replied,
relieved at being able to do something to help her
brother. She jumped up and ran out on deck, across the
gangplank and towards the Pitt’s farm some half a mile
away.
Annie knew the Pitt’s well, as they went to visit them
every few days to buy fresh milk and eggs, and when the
farmer had killed a pig or cow. The odd piece of meat
was a treat that they enjoyed infrequently.
The daylight had gone but there was a three-quarter moon
with only the occasional cloud, so Annie could see
enough to find her way, running towards the farm house
light glowing in the distance. Her heart pounded. She
was gasping for breath and her legs were aching when she
finally reached the farm, tears running down her cheeks.
She banged on the door, afraid no one was there. But it
was quickly answered by an elderly man bent over from
years of farming. He was dressed in black trousers, and
a grey coarse woollen shirt and braces. His wife joined
him at the door. She was short and plump with a round
friendly face, and wore a plain white dress.
‘What is it Annie, what’s wrong?’ she asked, seeing how
distraught Annie was.
Annie panted. ‘Mrs Pitt, Sonny’s had a real bad
accident. He’s hurt real bad, and Grandad said can he
use your horse and cart to take him to hospital?’
‘Oh dear. How terrible. Of course you can. Quick Alf, go
and get Nessie and bring the cart.’
Her husband hurried out the door towards the barn.
‘Don’t worry Annie, we’ll have Sonny in hospital quick
smart like,’ Alf called back to her.
The horse and cart left the barn within ten minutes but
to Annie it seemed like an eternity. She paced around
waiting and when Mr Pitt arrived he lifted her into his
cart, followed by his wife who had collected some warm
blankets for them all.
They arrived at Arthur’s boat where he was waiting for
them, holding Sonny wrapped in a coarse grey blanket.
Mrs Pitt had brought a lantern, and as they laid Sonny
in the back of the cart she held the lamp high observing
Sonny. He appeared to be unconscious. His face was
white; all colour seemed to have drained away.
Arthur sat in the back alongside Sonny with Mrs Pitt on
the other side. She was stroking Sonny’s hair and
holding his hand, able to do little else.
‘Hold on love, we’ll get you there,’ she soothed.
Mr Pitt hurried the horse as much as he dared, trying to
avoid the bumps in the road. But this was nearly
impossible on the darkened road and Sonny groaned every
time they hit a large bump. After nearly half an hour
they arrived at the small town of Newark and pulled up
at the small local hospital. Mr Pitt jumped down and ran
as quick as he was able to fetch help.
Two men wearing white coats came hurrying out carrying a
stretcher. They carefully placed Sonny on it and carried
him inside. Shortly afterwards a tall heavily-built man
with a full grey beard, dressed in a white coat, entered
the room where Sonny had been taken.
Arthur sat outside with his arm around Annie, holding
her close whilst she sobbed and squeezed her
grandfather’s hand. Mr and Mrs Pitt sat alongside. Mrs
Pitt was wiping her tears with a small handkerchief. She
liked the Lawson children a great deal, and enjoyed
their visits to the farm, sometimes letting them try
their hand at milking cows and feeding the animals. She
was aware that they were poor and sold them farm
products at very low prices, without seeming to offer
them charity.
The waiting was agony, turning his insides and making
him feel sick until he felt Sonny’s pain himself.
After waiting nearly an hour the tall man in the white
coat reappeared with a sombre look on his face.
‘Good evening. I’m Doctor Adams. I’ve been attending to
young William.’ He hesitated then quietly said, ‘I’m so
very sorry, but we could not save him. He passed away
ten minutes ago.’
Arthur stared at the doctor, trying to comprehend his
words. He staggered back and held on to the back of the
seat.
‘But… but… that can’t be, not Sonny, I thought you would
save him.’ Tears ran down his cheeks.
It was the first time Annie had ever seen her grandad
cry. Mrs Pitt hugged her close as she sobbed: deep,
heavy sobs that made Mrs Pitt cry as well.
‘He ruptured his spleen and damaged his kidney; there
was nothing we could do to repair them. He also bled
internally, further complicating his condition. I’m
sorry we could not do more,’ the doctor said.
Arthur was at a loss, and stood stunned and confused.
Mrs Pitt gently took his hand and led him and Annie
away, back to the cart, to return home much slower than
they had come.
‘Sonny, I’m sorry,’ Arthur kept repeating as they rode
home slowly.
Annie cried and sobbed until her chest hurt. A terrible
ache lay within her. She knew that she would never see
Sonny again.
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