Cruel and Unusual - serialised novel EXCLUSIVE to Steemit Part 10

Exclusive for Steemit - serialisation of Cruel and Unusual – my second novel

added by edit cos I forgot - pictures from pixabay

Episodes:
1
2
3
4
5
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9

Two

Jack did well at his studies and worked very hard. As his father had hoped, he elected to become a surgeon. He studied hard to the detriment of any social life and when he qualified, he decided to specialise in gynaecology.

Jack became an eminent surgeon, much respected and well sought after for his skills and knowledge. A workaholic almost, he spent his daytime at a more select hospital, counting amongst his patients Duchesses, various Princesses and countless titled ladies. On a few nights every week and even on weekends, Jack was to be found at the London Hospital and at a few workhouse infirmaries, giving his services free gratis in exchange for research potential amongst the poorer classes.

Tragically, Amelia became ill and died young and Jack despaired when he discovered that she had died from one of the very diseases that he was studying and trying so hard to discover a cure or at least a treatment for.

Amelia had become bedridden and Jack took time away from his work and research in order to sit with her as she slipped into delirium through pain and drugs.

It was during this time that Jack brought his work home, and studied in the cellar, so that he could be home at the times that his mother was awake and not neglect his research too much.

He took no notice of her ravings as she lay dying, except when she mentioned his father. “Mind your papa, baby Jack. You will grow up big and strong like him, you watch.”

Yet Jack had always been led to believe that his father had died before he was even born - in military action in India. So, gently, he wheedled the name from his mother, the name was David.

Little by little, Jack began recalling childhood memories that had long been swamped by school and study - for Jack had been taken under the wing of many an indulgent tutor. Now that he thought with objectivity about it, they had probably been bribed to take an interest in him to encourage study.

One memory that evaded his every effort to recall was his very last evening at the country house in which he had spent most of his childhood.

Until, at last it came, along with the memory of the visit to the Zoological Gardens and the wolves.

He stayed by Amelia’s side through her final days. He talked with her and to her. In her more lucid moments, she told him about her family - her mother and father - and it was only by a matter of days that he missed finding them before she died. The joy they shared at the reunion with their grandson was deeply marred by the news of the death of their daughter, lost to them for so many years.

In February 1883, Amelia died. It was a bright and sunny morning, but for Jack, it was dull and grey, he thought that the sun would never shine again on his life.

Jack arranged the funeral, refusing all offers of help from his grandmother. Six jet black horses drew the ornate hearse which bore Jack’s beloved mother through the streets. Passersby removed their hats and bowed their heads. People stood on their doorsteps to watch, for this was extravagant even for London.

Victorian ideals governed that a stiff upper lip was ‘de rigeur’ and Jack, true to his mother and her sense of propriety, had never allowed another single tear to form since he had finished weeping on the day that she died.

He followed the coffin from the church, borne by hired pall bearers because Jack did not know many people and none that he would have asked to bear his mother to her final resting place.

Jack’s grandmother and grandfather attended and at least tried to give comfort to their returned grandson, but they were strangers to all intents and purposes.

At the graveside, the ceremony was at an end when Jack saw someone that he recognised. He walked towards the tall, well built young man, debating with himself as he went. No it could not possibly be him, yet it must be.

The man had not seemed to notice Jack as he approached in a cautious and tentative manner, hesitating and even halting at times.

Jack drew near to him and noticed the man’s shoulders jerk as he asked the back of the man: “Uncle David?”

The man’s self-control returned just as he turned and so the loss of composure went unnoticed by Jack.

It was Jack’s turn to be shocked as the man he had thought to be his uncle turned to face him. He was far younger than Jack had first thought as he saw him from a distance; this man was younger even than Jack.

He offered his hand to shake Jack’s and said, “David was my father; he died a few months ago. You must be my cousin Jack.”

“Yes of course. You could not possibly be my uncle; you can only be twenty-five at most. You are obviously younger than me, yet you resemble my uncle – as I remember him - so very closely.”

“It is often said so,” the younger man nodded, a small smile playing on the corners of his mouth.

“It causes great confusion at times, when old acquaintances of his appear, especially if they do not know of my father’s demise. You gave me quite a turn when you addressed me by my late father’s name.” He smiled though and with such an ancient wisdom that Jack studied him with suspicion.

Of course it was quite reasonable that this was his cousin and not his uncle but Jack was not entirely convinced. Certain mannerisms reminded Jack too strongly of his uncle. Then there was the fact that Jack himself had personally invited every person at this funeral. How did his cousin know Amelia when she had not kept in contact with even her parents?

“I did not realise that my mother had kept in contact with Uncle David or I would have attended his funeral. When was it, at Christmas time?” Jack asked.

The cousin’s eyes narrowed at this question but he was courteous in his reply. “No, he died in October; the funeral was in early November. My father and your dear mother did not keep in contact but whilst putting his affairs in order, I came across Aunt Amelia’s name a few times and yours of course and I determined to track you down. Unfortunately, I found her whereabouts too late.”

At the sound of her name being mentioned by what looked like his own uncle from years gone by, Jack was startled. He shook it off however and regained his composure. “Indeed, it was a tragedy for both of us then. As cousins, I am sure that we could have been firm friends.”

Pictures Google Images and Pixabay