Chapter Thirty
Sir Henry Mulberry died at six-thirty the next morning. Following his collapse at Boomerville, he was rushed by ambulance to the emergency department at Marland hospital where medical staff endeavoured to save his life.
But Sir Henry never regained consciousness and as dawn rose over his beloved grouse moors and the haunting woofs of his dearly departed dogs called from their heavenly kennels, the old man slipped quietly away.
Lucinda, who was hysterical, had been sedated and James, on hand to help in any way that he could, had taken her back to the hotel where he’d woken Kate and told her the terrible news.
He asked if she might sit with Lucinda. Kate was pleased to do something useful, given the circumstances, and together they assisted a drowsy Lucinda up the stairs to her room.
In his final hours, a small group had gathered around Sir Henry’s bed.
Hugo, with his head resting on Hattie’s shoulder, sat on one side with Bob and Jo on the other.
Hattie held Sir Henry’s hand and stroked the paper-thin skin, while Bob sang a soothing chant.
They all knew that the clock was ticking down.
The beep from a monitor had stopped and his shallow breaths could no longer be heard.
A nurse padded gently across the room to check the patient’s pulse. She stroked her fingers over his eyelids then neatened the sheet across his chest as the assembled group held their breath.
‘He’s gone,’ she said softly. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Hugo put his head on his brother’s chest and began to weep. He lay there for some time until Hattie, placing her hands on his shoulders, gently peeled him away.
‘Come on, Hugo dear,’ she said. ‘It’s time to leave.’ She eased him off the bed and hooked her arm around him. ‘Let’s go and get a nice hot cup of tea.’
Jo leaned in and kissed Sir Henry’s forehead and Bob followed suit. With tears in their eyes, Bob gripped Jo’s arm and they all silently stumbled out of the room.
They sat in the relatives’ room and thanked the medical team and Hattie immediately took control of the formalities.
She’d made a call to Henry’s son when they arrived at the hospital and now made another to tell him that his father had passed away and that there was no need for anyone to rush to the hospital in Marland.
Hugo was on hand and would take care of everything.
Hugo hadn’t spoken and seemed dazed as the little procession walked out of the hospital into daylight, where Pete was waiting with his car to take them back to Boomerville.
‘Nice and gently, old son,’ Pete said as he eased Hugo onto the back seat and helped Hattie slide alongside. ‘Soon have you home.’
They set off on their journey as the sun rose over the fells. Clouds drifted lazily in a pale blue sky and birds soared above.
Sir Henry’s life had ended and a new day was born.
* * *
‘Life goes on,’ Jo whispered as she watched the world come awake.
She stared out of the car window and thought back to the old times at Kirkton House when the two younger brothers were on their finest form – handsome and charismatic and smartly dressed for a day’s shooting on the moors.
There had been many weekends of fun at the hotel with the Mulberrys and their guests and Jo had enjoyed their company, little knowing at the time the value of those moments.
Now they were just a memory.
Boomerville had never been intended as a place for the elderly but she hadn’t thought twice when Sir Henry got in touch again.
She’d been delighted to welcome him back and he had spent his final days at Boomerville, where he was happy and had found a new lease of life, and Jo was humbled and knew that she’d done the right thing.
She dabbed at her eyes as Pete drove slowly and as they arrived in the village he eased the car across the drive. It came to a stop by the front door where guests and staff, waiting in silence, had gathered to see the party back.
The Shaman stood in the shadow of the willow tree and closed his eyes, as if in prayer.
He raised his staff and made a circle and several crows began to circle overhead.
Little was said as Hugo was helped out of the car, followed by Hattie, Jo and Bob, but hands were shaken and shoulders touched as everyone paid their respects.
‘How’s Lucinda?’ Jo asked James as she came into the hallway.
‘She’s sleeping,’ he replied. ‘Kate is with her.’
‘I think we all need a drink,’ Hattie said as she led Hugo to a chair in the lounge and Bob organised brandy for everyone.
With her glass in one hand and Sir Henry’s silver-topped cane in the other, Hattie moved to the centre of the room.
‘We’ve lost a dear friend and brother today,’ Hattie began, ‘and right now this is very painful.’ She had tears in her eyes as she continued.
‘But Henry was a man who loved life and he wouldn’t want us to be sad.
’ She paused and looked at Hugo. ‘I know that each and every one of you will be there for Hugo and Lucinda, who will need our love and support in the days to come. So let’s raise our glasses in tribute. ’
Hattie looked around the room at the solemn faces.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, please be upstanding for Sir Henry Mulberry, a fine man, our dearest friend and valued guest and our very first boomer at Boomerville.’