Three tankards now sat by the girls bedside, the daises, dandelions and marigolds offering some much needed cheer to counteract the gloom that hung in the air, even if some drooped, clinging on to the last bit of life they had, they still brought brightness to the room.
"Why is she not waking? She should be waking?!"
"Hush now Lily, girl needs her rest, told you."
"She should be awake, awake and talking, helping her Pa with the labels for the bottles, helping me..me..with the.."
Lily rested her palm over her eyes, the toll of too many sleepless nights of worry, of what might be, too heavy a burden, causing the normally resolute woman to break down into pitiful, ugly sobs. Still, her other hand gently held her daughters, a daughter who slept serenely, and likely unaware of the distress she caused.
Mrs Denton cuddled the woman in, her body warm, soft, like a large duck down pillow and lightly stroked her hair in a soothing manner, shushing her gently
"There, there...don't be crying, be strong for the lass, be strong."
The older woman gave the sobbing one a handkerchief, and for her trouble was met with the loudest sound as the distraught mother blew her nose into it several times. Her eyes were red, her face tired, but she gave into the cooks words with a resigned nod.
"She's my baby, how could this happen? She were going to do so much."
"And she still will Lily! Now, a nice cup of tea eh? Will calm your nerves and get you feeling a bit better."
"You can't say that, you don't know that! If she had just, if we hadn't..that house, it was cursed!"
"Nonsense, don't be blaming stone for whats happened, the girl got sick from being out in the rain"
"Why was she out there? Because of..because of.."
Lily bit her tongue, swallowing the words that had preyed on her mind as she looked at the study door
"No no..now, don't think that way. Ain't his fault, he's doing all he can. Now come on, don't want the lasses dreams turning sour because she can hear her Ma crying and all do you? Come on, lets have that tea."
Suddenly the door opened to the Soothery, yet none were there to greet in her stead. Ready to make her apologies for the temporary absence of others, she left her friend and walked to the front of the building and gave a long sigh through a kindly smile. Before her, her son Jack, a tankard in his hands with freshly picked flowers.
"Don't be letting the Wattle catch you stealing their tankards lad, come in, you can sit with the lasses Ma as I make tea"
