The Quality of Love (32 page)

‘Do you mean permanently?' Alvia said in alarm. ‘Break his heart if he thought he was out of work again. You've no idea the state he was in when he lost his job before.'

‘Don't worry, I hope it won't come to that,' Owen assured her. ‘That's why I want to see that there are a few changes made to cover things until he's well enough to return to work.'

‘What do I tell Sarah if she wakes up and wants to know where you are?'

‘Tell her I've gone to change out of these
clothes and that I'll be back in next to no time and then I'll take her along to the infirmary to see her father.'

The curtains were drawn around Lloyd's bed when they arrived at the Infirmary and for one moment Sarah thought that perhaps he had died because he'd appeared to be so ill the night before. She clung tightly to Owen's hand.

Even when the nurse assured them that Lloyd was only sleeping they were both shocked when they moved inside the curtains and saw him.

Sarah knew he was only in his fifties but he looked like a man of seventy. His face was devoid of colour and his mouth was twisted grotesquely on one side.

‘Dad.' Tentatively, she moved closer and bent to kiss him on the forehead.

He tried to smile but his lips refused to move and she noticed that he was drooling from one side of his mouth. Helpless, she looked towards Owen.

‘How are you, Lloyd?' Owen asked, leaning down in case he was able to reply but apart from a slight movement of the head there was no response.

When the nurse reappeared they asked what was happening but she was non-committal and said they must speak to the sister in charge of the ward.

The sister took them to one side and in a low
voice confirmed their worst fears. The stroke had left Lloyd slightly paralysed down one side.

‘How long is he going to be like this?' Sarah asked in a shocked voice.

The sister shook her head. ‘We are unable to tell you that, my dear. With careful nursing and encouragement he should recover. He will probably never be the man he was, of course, but given time and the right exercises he should regain all his faculties.'

Sarah looked at Owen in despair. The news was such a blow that she couldn't think of what to do or say. It seemed unbelievable that yesterday he'd been a proud, upright man, about to celebrate her wedding, and that today he appeared to be merely a shell without the power of speech or movement.

‘Do you think he knows us even though he can't talk to us?' Owen asked.

The sister smiled pityingly. ‘None of us know for certain. We must treat him kindly and with respect in the hope that he does. The reason I moved away from the bed to explain all this to you is because if he does comprehend what we are saying then it could distress him if he heard us discussing his condition.'

‘Do people recover?' Sarah pressed. ‘Have you known anyone who has?'

Again the sister hesitated. ‘I am sure he will improve, but it is impossible to tell at the moment how much he will do so. He appears to be a very strong, healthy man, so with the
right rest and treatment I am confident that he will make some improvement. What happens over the next few days will be critical.'

‘Does that mean that he will have to remain here in hospital?' Sarah asked.

‘For the present. As soon as we are satisfied that there is nothing else we can do for him then we will discharge him and you can take him home. He will probably need careful nursing, though, for quite some time to come.'

They left the infirmary in a daze. Sarah couldn't put the memory of how ill he looked out of her mind. He seemed to be so old and frail that it made her heart ache.

Although she said nothing to Owen she couldn't help feeling that all her optimism about the future had been misplaced; their marriage was blighted before it had begun. First of all her mother had died, then Owen had been attacked, and now that her father was so terribly ill it meant that, once more, their married life was going to be on hold.

She felt she was burdening Owen with problems that were not really his responsibility. When, haltingly, she tried to say this to him he quickly shushed her to silence.

‘Your family is my family now and I feel as responsible for your father as you do,' he told her firmly as he pulled her into his arms and held her close.

She felt so distressed by it all that she couldn't even cry. Her head was aching and the tears
were there, preventing her from speaking, and she longed for some form of release.

She was too scared to think ahead, to even contemplate what sort of a future they were going to have. At the moment all she wanted was to go back to the hospital and find that it had all been a mistake; to find her father sitting up in bed, laughing with them as they told him about the trauma of his falling over, clutching at the tablecloth and pulling everything, including their wedding cake, on to the floor.

It all seemed such a fiasco, all so unreal, and the sight of his distorted mouth and face haunted her. The sister had said that he was paralysed all down one side so she supposed that meant he couldn't walk or perhaps even stand.

All they could hope for now was that it wasn't going to be a permanent disability. If he ever fully regained his senses then he would hate the disfigurement and he'd be terribly distressed if someone had to help him all the time with everything he wanted to do.

She wasn't at all sure that she was going to be capable of looking after him for the rest of his life, yet she was aware that it was her duty to do so. She wondered how Owen would react when he'd had time to think everything through and realise that possibly her father might be a permanent invalid, and that there would be an enormous responsibility involved in looking after him.

It was almost the end of October before Lloyd was discharged from hospital. He looked frail and shaky and his face and mouth were still slightly twisted.

Although he could now speak and had regained almost full use of his limbs and he could now walk with two sticks, he still had trouble grasping things with his left hand and he had to use both hands when he was picking up a cup or a glass.

Eating was a slow struggle as he tried desperately hard to control any shaking so as not to spill anything. Even though Sarah made a point of cutting up his meat and vegetables into a manageable size he frequently found it difficult to lift the food from his plate to his mouth without dropping it.

Sarah and Owen had already given up the rooms they'd taken in Plasnewedd Place, even though it was only a few streets away. Instead they'd changed things around in Cyfartha Street so that Lloyd could have his bedroom downstairs because they thought it would be too great a strain for him to have to go up and down the stairs.

Sarah wasn't too sure how he was going to feel about this because she had redecorated the big bedroom that her parents had used all their lives, changed the curtains, and moved all her and Owen's belongings in there.

As it happened, Lloyd was so pleased to be out of hospital and back home that he made no comments whatsoever when he found that he now had a bedroom downstairs other than to say how sorry he was to be causing them so much trouble.

‘You had your own place all set up and I know you were both looking forward to being there,' he said sadly. ‘I've messed up everything for you one way or the other.'

‘Nonsense, we're extremely comfortable living here and it is much better for us to be on the spot so that we can keep an eye on you than having to be dashing backwards and forwards to Plasnewedd Place,' Owen assured him.

‘If Sarah has to look after me and isn't working, how on earth are we going to manage?' Lloyd asked worriedly.

‘We will, don't you worry about it. I've got a good job and you'll have your sickness pay,' Owen reminded him.

‘That's only ten shillings a week and it is only for twenty-six weeks,' Lloyd pointed out.

‘Well, that's months away,' Owen reassured him. ‘And by then you'll probably be as fit as a fiddle again,' he added cheerfully.

‘Morgan's can't keep my job open until then,' Lloyd pointed out worriedly.

‘Perhaps not, but I'm sure Bryn Morgan will be able to find some other work you can do.'

‘You mean you will,' Lloyd said dryly. ‘That's if we haven't all starved to death in the meantime,' he muttered gloomily. ‘With all the special foods and medicines I seem to need these days it isn't going to be at all easy existing on your wage alone, Owen.'

When Sarah and Owen discussed the matter between themselves they both agreed that there was very little hope of Lloyd ever going back to work.

‘In that case, it looks as though I will have to go on working for a while,' Sarah said firmly.

Owen shook his head. ‘I'm inclined to agree with your father; it's not right for a married woman to be working.'

‘Oh, why is that?' Sarah laughed. ‘Is it because you don't like the idea that I can earn almost as much as you or because you feel people might think you can't afford to keep me?' she teased.

‘It's no laughing matter, Sarah,' he told her sternly. ‘A man should be the provider. You'll have enough to do nursing your father, there's no possibility of you working as well.'

Sarah was insistent. ‘He's my responsibility, not yours, and although I am grateful that you are so willing to take care of him, it will not only make things so much easier for all of us
if I keep my job on, but I'll also feel better about it as well.'

‘I'm not sure what Bryn Morgan will say about that. Morgan's have never employed married women before.'

‘Well, there's a first time for everything and if you think it might worry him then I'll go and have a talk to him before we make any firm decision.'

Bryn was more than cooperative. He told Sarah that he'd been dreading the thought of having to replace her because she was such a valuable asset to his business.

‘Sarah, take all the time you need off,' he told her. ‘You might even find that you can do some of your work at home if it makes things easier for you,' he suggested.

‘That's all very well, cariad, but I think you'll find it means you are going to be rushed off your feet all the time,' Owen warned her when she told him what Bryn Morgan had said and how she was determined to go on working.

‘Not necessarily. Alvia and Marie can come in every day, like they started to do after Mam died. I'll fix it all up with them,' she promised.

‘Your Dad might object and, if he does, then it will mean he's left on his own for a greater part of the day.'

Lloyd was divided in his reaction. He understood that with all her learning and experience Sarah wanted to go on working, but he was
also afraid that it was all going to be too much for her.

‘We don't want you cracking up, cariad,' Lloyd pointed out, his voice full of concern.

‘Don't worry, I'm not going to let myself be overworked,' she promised.

‘Duw anwyl, I hope not. We'd really be in a fix if you were ill now, wouldn't we?'

‘I'm planning for Alvia and Maria to take it in turns to pop in during the day and make sure you're all right,' she assured him. ‘They'll make you a cup of tea at mid-morning and again in the afternoon. What's more they'll bring in a midday meal for you and make up the fire. If there is anything else you want doing you have only to ask them while they're here.'

For the first few months everything went like clockwork. Even so Sarah knew that without Owen's wonderful support she would never have been able to manage to do so much and that things would not have run as smoothly as they did.

For the first time she felt that she really knew what being married was all about. Owen was so completely different from Gwyn or Stefan. He was not only tender and loving when they were alone but also so caring and considerate, always putting her needs first, and so understanding when it came to looking after her father.

Two or sometimes even three days a week
she worked from home and she had to rely on Owen to bring home all the documents and relevant papers she needed. Frequently he would also have to take them back in again the next day for Bryn Morgan's approval and signature.

Although they were not able to spend very much time on their own, Owen left her in no doubt about how much he loved her. He expressed his love in so many thoughtful little ways that sometimes she felt quite overwhelmed.

Fond though they both were of Lloyd, their bedroom became a haven of retreat as soon as they'd settled Lloyd for the night. It was the only time they could relax and feel comfortable about fully expressing their feelings for each other.

Lloyd could do very little for himself but in other ways he had adjusted well to his health problems. They now all accepted that there was very little chance of him making any further improvement so each of them, in their own way, did their utmost to help him to cope with his disability.

While Sarah and Owen were out at work, Alvia and Marie were his mainstay. Although both women had family responsibilities and homes of their own to run they arranged between them to take excellent care of Lloyd.

Sarah left them to arrange a rota between them, and it worked well. She had complete confidence that at all times one or the other
would come in at regular intervals to make sure that her father was all right.

Sundays should have been a day of relaxation for Sarah and Owen but they were unable to do very much because they couldn't leave Lloyd on his own.

‘I'll be all right if you two want to go for a walk,' he would insist whenever it was a fine Sunday.

‘It's all right, Dad, we've plenty of odd jobs to do around the house,' Sarah reminded him. ‘I'm going to do the ironing,' she told him as she spread an old blanket over the dining table and put a flatiron on the trivet in front of the fire to heat up.