Читать книгу A Strong Hand to Hold - Anne Bennett - Страница 10

Jenny O’Leary’s heart was pounding against her ribs, the breath rasping in her throat as she tried to contain her panic. Every nerve in her body urged her to get out of the bombed house now, while she had a chance. Progress was pitifully slow; there wasn’t room either side of her for her elbows, so she had to pull herself along by her hands. Her whole body rested on broken bricks and tiles and shards of glass. Her arms were grazed, her hands and her legs tom and bleeding, but she bit her lip and pulled herself on across the rubble, inch by painful inch.

The space was so small she had to keep her head down and her mouth and eyes filled with dust and grit. Suddenly she stopped, too frightened to move any further. She couldn’t breathe and knew she’d die in this futile attempt to rescue Linda Lennox. The girl must surely already be dead! The tears came then and she sobbed and prayed more intensely than she’d ever done before. ‘Oh God, help me.’

Strangely, she did feel eased, though the roof of her mouth was still dry and her hands clammy. She forced herself to count to ten slowly and take deep breaths to prove that she could. Afterwards she felt a little better; she focused on the entombed child and inched herself a little further.

She wondered after a while how long she’d been in the tunnel. It seemed for ever. Surely the pantry wasn’t as far as this? Perhaps the tunnel led somewhere else entirely, or nowhere at all. Panic threatened to overwhelm her again; she moaned in great distress, dropped the torch and it went out.

‘Oh God! Oh God!’ In the pitch black she scrabbled frantically. To be stuck here in the pitch dark was the most frightening moment of her life. She’d not stand it! She’d go mad!

Then suddenly, her grasping hands found the torch again and, as she turned it on, the little tunnel seemed flooded with light despite the shield and she sobbed with relief.

A little further on, she realised the roof seemed further away than it had been. She found she could raise her head and did so, glad to be able to get away from the plaster and brick dust if only for a moment or two.

The space got bigger still. Soon Jenny was able to lift herself on to her knees and progress was slightly quicker. Then she came to an area where she could crouch and when she swung the torch this time, she saw why. The beams holding up the first floor had fallen against the stairs, but as the stairs rose so the space beneath them became larger. She sat for a moment, glad of the respite, and considered things.

The pantry must be near, because it was fitted under the stairs and anytime now she could be coming to it. It could well be blocked and yet she mustn’t miss it. She must search every few inches.

Even then she nearly went past it. It was the groan that alerted her. The girl was still alive, but she was obviously in a lot of pain. Frantically, she swung her torch, all fear for herself forgotten. She swung around onto her knees, searching every nook and cranny, wishing and hoping the child would groan again or cry out, anything to help her find out where she was.

‘Linda,’ she cried as loud as she could. ‘Linda, where are you?’

Silence, total silence. ‘Linda?’ Jenny shouted again after a few minutes. ‘Linda, please! Oh Linda, for God’s sake!’

And then it came, a long low groan to the left of where Jenny sat. She swung around and examined the wall which seemed totally blocked with a solid lump of wood except for a narrow space at the top.

She pulled herself up and peered over, playing the torch around. The missing girl lay so white and still she might have been a corpse, her legs held fast by the staircase that had semi-collapsed on top of her.

Jenny gasped. She knew she had to get through that gap to rescue Linda, and it would be a squeeze, even for her. Discarding her tattered blouse, suit, stockings and shoes without a thought, she crouched shivering in her slip.

The widest part of the human body is the head and Jenny was soon aware of this as hers took a great deal of manoeuvring to get through the small aperture. But at last she was on the other side, and kneeling by the unconscious child.

Linda was covered in grey dust. Her face was thick with it, but with cleaner trails as if she’d cried for some time. Her brownish hair was matted beneath her and she lay on a bed of fragmented bricks, an old teddy bear in her right hand. Compassion flooded through Jenny. ‘Linda,’ she said softly and then much louder, but there was no response.

Sudden fear gripped Jenny. Was that shuddering groan she’d heard the final whisper of life? She tried to feel for a pulse in the wrist and throat, but her lacerated hands could feel nothing, so very gently she laid her ear across the child’s chest and could have cried with relief when she distinctly heard the heart beating – faintly it was true, but definitely there.

But how could she rouse the girl? She couldn’t bring herself to smack her face. In fact, to touch her in any way could hurt her, seeing the way her legs were pinned. Eventually, Jenny ripped the bottom of her slip into strips and spat liberally on the first one and wiped it across the child’s face.

Linda had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some hours. She hated waking from the blissful oblivion for she woke to fear and loneliness and intense pain, stronger than she’d ever felt before, so strong it drained her of energy. Every bone and pore in her body seemed on fire and she burned with a fever that Jenny was aware of as soon as she touched her. In her lucid moments, Linda had heard people calling her, but it had seemed so far away and nothing to do with her at all.

But this was different, a stroking of her face and her cheeks, reminiscent of her mother who used to do that when she was small. She came to reluctantly, almost afraid to open her glazed eyes.

But when she did, she was gazing into deep brown ones, very like her mother’s. Someone was patting her face gently and it felt so soft, like a pillow. So soft, she closed her eyes again, but then the same someone called, ‘Linda.’

‘Mom.’ She knew her mother would come for her. Linda’s eyes opened again, but the face looking down on her was not her mother’s. ‘Who are you?’ she asked in a voice slurred with weariness and the agony of constant and unremitting pain.

The person didn’t answer, but tears rained down her face. Eventually, she controlled herself and said, ‘Oh Linda, I’m so glad I’ve found you.’

Linda was confused. She wasn’t lost; she knew where she was. She was in the pantry. Suddenly, it all came back; she’d nipped into the house to find Tolly, George’s teddy bear. She still had him in her hand. ‘I’m in the pantry,’ she said. ‘There was a bomb.’

‘I know, my dear.’

‘I came back for Tolly, he’s George’s bear.’

‘George?’

‘My little brother. He’ll be glad he’s safe.’

Jenny remembered the small dead bodies carried past her the previous evening and a shiver went through her. She had to keep off the subject of the girl’s family at all costs. ‘Are you in much pain?’ she asked.

Linda gave a brief nod and even that small movement caused such a severe spasm throughout her body that she nearly passed out again. ‘It used to be just my legs,’ Linda said wearily, when she recovered her breath. ‘Now it’s everywhere.’

‘Oh, God,’ Jenny thought, and tears stood out in her eyes.

‘It’s all right, it’s not so bad now you’re here,’ Linda said. ‘Are you going to get me out?’

Jenny held one of Linda’s hands and stroked it gently as she said, ‘There are people outside waiting to help, but we couldn’t do much till we found out where you were. I … I need to go back and tell them and then they can really start moving to get you free.’

‘Oh, please don’t go!’ Linda cried, her eyes wide with alarm and terror. ‘Oh, please! Oh please!’ Tears coursed down her cheeks and Jenny could hardly speak. She knew it would take all the young girl’s reserve of courage to stay by herself in the dark again while she alerted those waiting outside.

‘I must,’ she said, ‘don’t you see? They can’t start moving anything about until they know where you are.’

‘I can’t bear it if you go.’

‘Please, Linda, try and understand,’ Jenny said. ‘I promise I’ll come back and stay with you till you’re rescued.’

‘Do you promise, God’s honour, on your mother’s life?’ Linda asked, and shivered as she imagined the fear of being left alone again.

‘Yes,’ said Jenny firmly. ‘Yes, I do, and I’ll get something for the pain you’re in too. Dr Sanders is out there.’

Vague memories stirred in Linda’s befuddled brain and she said, ‘Yes, he came to see my mom. He’s nice. Is Mom all right?’

Oh God, Jenny thought. Instead of answering she said again, ‘I must get back and tell everyone you’re safe as quickly as possible.’ She got to her feet gingerly, wary of jarring the child. ‘Don’t expect me back too soon,’ she warned. ‘The tunnel is very narrow and in places I have to lie flat and drag myself through, but I promise you I’ll be back.’

‘Be as quick as you can,’ Linda said and shut her eyes tight so she wouldn’t see when the stranger disappeared and she was in darkness and alone once more.

When Jenny emerged from the tunnel, a cheer rose up. She was covered head to foot in a film of yellow-grey dust and clad only in a torn and filthy slip that hung on her like a tattered rag. As she shivered from reaction and cold, a woman stepped forward with a blanket to wrap around her.

Maureen ran towards her granddaughter, tears coursing down her face, for she thought she’d never see her again. She was shocked at the sight of her; even in the dim light of the torches she could see the mass of raw gravel grazes on Jenny’s face. Her nose had not escaped and there was a green/blue bruise swelling under her left eye. The deep gashes on her arms oozing droplets of blood were hidden by the blanket, but the legs sticking out from it had jagged slash-marks along the length of them and blood was dripping from them on to her bare, blistered feet.

‘She’s there in the pantry like we thought,’ she said wearily. ‘The stairs have collapsed on her, trapping her legs, but apart from that she’s all right.’

‘Oh my darling girl,’ Maureen cried, wrapping her arms around Jenny’s shoulders. She saw her wince and stood back. ‘Come away home now,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ve done enough for one night.’

‘Go home, Gran?’ Jenny echoed incredulously. ‘Don’t be silly, I have to go back.’

‘Oh no, my girl,’ Dr Sanders put in. ‘Doctor’s orders. You must go and rest now.’

‘How can I?’ Jenny cried. ‘You’re not my doctor, but you are that young girl’s. Would you have me abandon her and renege on my promise?’

‘Can we argue about this at home?’ Gerry interrupted. He turned to the doctor and said, ‘Whatever is decided, Jenny needs treatment I’d say, and if she stays here much longer, she’ll die from the cold.’

So saying he lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all and stilled her protests. ‘Be quiet, Jenny, you have to get your injuries treated, some food inside you and some clothes to cover you, before any decision is reached.’

‘I’m going back,’ Jenny said mutinously.

‘We’ll see.’

‘I am!’

‘All right,’ Gerry snapped back. ‘But let’s take one thing at a time.’

He was striding down the road as he spoke and Jenny relaxed when she realised she wasn’t being taken all the way home, only to her gran’s house. Maureen and the doctor were following behind. Once inside, Dr Sanders quickly washed the dust and grit from her and bandaged her arms, hands and legs and put salve on her face, and the smarting pain of it all subsided a little.

Then, dressed in thick trousers, shirt, pullover and boots, she was given a bowl of Irish stew, a cup of tea so strong the spoon could have stood up in it on its own, and was sat before the fire. The latter was nearly her undoing. The crawl through the tunnel and back had taken it out of her mentally and physically, and with a full stomach and the heat of the fire, Jenny felt incredibly drowsy. Her eyelids were so very heavy; surely she could shut them for a wee minute or two …

Suddenly she jerked herself back to wakefulness. How long had she slept – an hour, half an hour, a few minutes? She had no way of knowing. The clock now showed just after two o’clock in the morning.

She looked around at her gran and the doctor accusingly, knowing they would have let her sleep till morning and not tried to wake her. ‘I can’t believe you let me drop off like that,’ she said.

‘Cutie child, you’ve done enough,’ Maureen said.

Jenny made an impatient movement with her hand. ‘Linda Lennox is just twelve years old and has lost all belonging to her. She’s lain for hours, cold, frightened and alone in total darkness, injured and in constant pain. I promised her I would go back and I will. I’ve never broken a promise in my life and I think this is the most important one I’ve ever made.’ She looked at the doctor and said, ‘I wouldn’t answer for Linda’s mental condition if she’s left much longer in that place alone. I said I’d try and get her something for the pain too.’

‘But now we know where she is, it won’t be long till she’s out,’ the doctor said. ‘They were ordering heavy lifting gear when we left.’

‘Don’t treat me like an idiot,’ Jenny said desperately. ‘You know as well as I do, it will be hours yet. The stairs pinning Linda to the pantry floor are holding up the whole of the upper floor and part of the other house is leaning against it too. It will be some time before she’s reached, let alone rescued.’

‘But at least she will be rescued now,’ he said. ‘You did well detecting her.’

‘I did well?’ repeated Jenny. ‘That girl is almost delirious with pain, and when they eventually lift the stairs off her legs … well, I don’t think she’ll stand it. She needs something to kill the pain, and as soon as possible, I’d say.’

Dr Sanders regarded Jenny shrewdly. ‘I can’t get in there to give her an injection – you know that,’ he said. ‘Surely you’re not proposing you administer it?’

‘Have you a better idea?’

‘It would be incredibly dangerous.’

‘It’s all incredibly dangerous,’ Jenny said dismissively. ‘She’s not lying in a feather bed at this minute either.’

Maureen was open-mouthed at the way Jenny was attacking the doctor. She’d never heard her speak that way to anyone before. She hoped the man would put it down to shock and not be offended. Jenny didn’t seem to care if he was or not, because she cried out, ‘She needs help now! Why can’t you realise that?’

‘Hush, mavourneen,’ Maureen said, dropping down on her knees before the settee and gathering her weeping granddaughter into her arms. ‘Everyone knows about the wee wean and sure it’s terrible news, so it is. But why does it have to be you that goes back in?’

Jenny wiped the tears away and said, ‘Because I’m small, Gran, the only one that has any chance. There were even places I was nearly stuck too.’ She gave a shuddering sigh and went on, ‘I’m the only one who can keep her company.’

‘But the whole place could collapse on top of you both,’ Dr Sanders said gently.

Jenny swallowed the terror she had of going back into the dreadful tunnel and retorted, ‘I know all that. What I want to know is, are you going to help me, or sit up all night talking about it?’

Dr Sanders remembered suddenly the first time he’d seen Linda Lennox. She’d come into his surgery with half a crown in her cardigan pocket which he could guess was all the money she had in the world, and asked him if it were enough for him to visit her mother who’d collapsed. He’d seen the family many times since, and been impressed by the courage of both the mother and daughter. Linda was the same slight build as Patty, with a little elfin face, deep blue-grey eyes, a dainty nose and a fine mouth; her rich brown hair was wavy and fell to her shoulders, but her chin was well defined and Dr Sanders knew her to be a determined little thing.

But he also knew she’d been devoted to her younger brothers and she’d had a special bond with her mother. He couldn’t begin to comprehend the depth of her loss, or how she’d cope with it. He also knew she’d be very frightened, and if anyone needed a friend at this moment, it was Linda Lennox. Surely if the O’Leary girl was brave enough to go back in that tunnel, he was brave enough to trust her to administer morphine to alleviate the child’s pain. Really there was no other option anyway.

So in the end Jenny had her way, although most were astonished that she was going back to stay with the child because of a promise she had made. At last one of the official rescue workers, who’d appeared with lifting gear, saw her determination and knew she wasn’t to be dissuaded. ‘At least go better equipped this time,’ he said. ‘You know it might take hours before we reach you.’

‘I know.’

She was given a flashlight which she could push in front of her into the tunnel and a water bottle which was strapped to her back. High-energy biscuits used by the Forces were tucked into one of the breast pockets of her shirt, and a blanket was tied to her belt so that she could drag it behind her.

In the other breast pocket, she carried the precious morphine injection. The doctor was still apprehensive as he measured out the dose. ‘I’m worried about giving her too much,’ he said. ‘She’s quite slight as well as small for her age.’

‘She’s in terrible pain,’ Jenny reminded him.

‘Even so … Just try and keep her alert. Don’t let her sleep if you can help it. Keep talking to her.’

‘Yes, all right,’ Jenny said. She was impatient to be on her way before further objections could be raised.

She gave her gran a hug then knelt before the tunnel; the old lady’s eyes were wet with tears and her lips moved constantly in prayer to the Virgin, who’d tasted sorrow in her own life and would understand the gnawing worry she had for Jenny.

Jenny had been in the tunnel about half an hour when Gerry decided to call it a day. It was after three o’clock in the morning and he knew he’d be needed at work in the morning. The city was in a perilous position, with half the gas pipes in the centre ruptured, leaking or unusable, and it would be some time before Jenny reached the trapped child and even longer till the search-party located them. Meanwhile he was asleep on his feet and if he wanted to be any good at all in the morning, he knew he had to rest. His mother, too, looked dead beat, and he went over and put his arm around her. ‘Come on, Ma,’ he said. ‘Let’s away home for a wee while.’

‘Away home when my dear grandchild is in that hellhole?’ Maureen cried, but though her voice was strident, Gerry knew she was at the end of her tether.

‘Ma, she’ll be in there hours yet,’ he said. ‘Honest to God we can do nothing more, and when she is eventually rescued, then she’ll need you.’ Maureen knew Gerry was right; she was too tired to think straight or be any bloody use to anyone. She doubted she’d sleep, but even to rest in the warm would be nice. Gerry put his arm around her and led her away.

Willing hands took the places of those who dropped out as the night wore on. The tale of the child who lay buried under tons of rubble and the girl not much older who’d crawled in to give her comfort, had spread like wildfire across the estate, and people came from all over to lend a hand. It was heartening, Maureen thought as she made her way home, in a world where values and common decency seemed to have been turned on their heads.

In the tunnel the going was tough. Conscious of the needle in her breast pocket, Jenny tried to keep her upper body raised as much as possible, but that meant the water bottle dragged on the roof. Occasionally, it got stuck altogether and she would have to hunker down and wriggle free, hurting her face again. But though she felt the water bottle to be an encumbrance, she knew it was vital; she dreaded puncturing it and seeing the precious water trickle away.

The blanket hampered her progress considerably, it kept getting stuck on things and had to be shaken loose – not an easy task in such a small space. Jenny wished many times she could leave it behind, but knew she couldn’t; she knew they’d need it, Linda was probably near frozen stiff already.

When she eventually reached the slit in the top of the piece of wood blocking off the pantry, she knew she couldn’t struggle through it this time. Not only was she wearing more and thicker clothes, there was also the morphine syringe that she couldn’t risk breaking; nor did she want the biscuits to be reduced to useless crumbs.

She called out reassuringly to Linda as she unstrapped the water bottle and the blanket and pushed them through the small gap. There was no answer. Jenny hoped she hadn’t dropped into unconsciousness.

Impatiently, she set to examine the wood. Surely there was some way of enlarging the gap? She swung the flashlight around. The wood was balanced on one side on a heap of bricks: if she could kick them away, the wood could drop another twelve inches or so. It would be enough for her to get into the pantry where Linda lay. But had she the courage to do so? Because to move anything was extremely dicey.

But then, she thought, what choice did she have? She might as well have stayed in front of her gran’s fire all night otherwise. Gently she scraped away at the powdery gravel around the bricks, and then began to push at them one by one. They seemed wedged fast: Jenny had to exert more and more pressure. Eventually, she braced herself against the wall and pushed hard with her feet. At first they moved slowly and then suddenly they came out in a rush. There was a terrific roaring above Jenny’s head as a beam fell, glancing off her shoulder and causing her to cry out, and a pile of masonry, broken pieces of plaster and charred timbers fell and filled the tunnel behind her, effectively sealing it off, so if she’d wanted to get out she’d be unable to. Jenny wasn’t aware of it at once: she was aware of nothing but the dust swirling around her as thick and acrid as smoke. It stung her eyes and caused them to stream with tears, and filled her nostrils, and she felt she would choke with it as she coughed and coughed till her stomach ached.

Outside, the rescuers heard the roaring boom too, as loud as thunder. Those on the pavement saw the rubble drop several inches and the whole mountain of bricks began to tilt and sway. For some time after the dust had settled around Jenny in her tunnel, it dislodged bricks, plaster pieces and glass shards outside and they continued to slither on top of the pile, and so it was a while before the rescuers could begin again. ‘I think the little lady’s had it this time, don’t you?’ one man said.

‘Don’t you believe it!’ Stan Walker, Jenny’s fellow warden and one of the rescue team, stated forcibly. ‘I’ve worked with Jenny at the warden’s post for some time now, and I’ll tell you she’s one of the best.’

‘No one’s saying she isn’t, man,’ another protested. ‘It’s just … well, everyone knows what that noise means.’

‘Bloody good job her gran’s gone home. I reckon she’d have collapsed if she’d heard and seen that.’

There was a murmur of agreement and then someone said, ‘Let’s hope she hasn’t upset the lot and brought it all down on the child she was trying to save.’

This was a sobering thought and Stan burst in eventually with, ‘That’s defeatist talk and what Hitler would expect of you all. Whether they’re alive or dead, let’s get them out of that hell-hole, even if it’s just to give them a Christian burial.’

At Stan’s words there was a small cheer. ‘That’s telling them, mate,’ a man said from the back. ‘Come on, you lot – where’s your Brummie grit? Let’s get to it,’ and without another word the men turned to their task and redoubled their efforts.

Down in the tunnel, despite the dust still swirling around her Jenny saw she had achieved her objective; the wood had dropped sufficiently to let her climb inside to where Linda lay. Lightheaded with relief, for she really thought she’d had it that time, she got to her feet shakily and clambered over the wood partition to the injured child.

Linda was unconscious and delirious, she was mumbling on about her mother and little brothers in a way that brought tears to Jenny’s eyes. She hoped that she had some nice kindly gran or aunt to take care of her after all this, for the thin undersized child certainly looked as if she needed someone to see to her and help her over the terrible tragedy of losing her mother.

‘Linda,’ Jenny said gently, ‘remember me?’ She saw the slight frown on Linda’s face and knew she not only had no idea who she was, she probably couldn’t even hear her. ‘I said I’d come back and stay with you, do you remember?’ Linda’s eyes flickered shut again and Jenny went on doggedly, ‘I’ve spoken to the doctor. He’s given me an injection for you to take away the pain, is that all right?’

There was no response and Jenny realized she’d have to administer the injection anyway. She eased Linda out of one sleeve of her coat and rolled her cardigan up. As she moved the flashlight nearer, she was more nervous than she’d ever been in her whole life. It took all her reserves of courage to stick the needle into the flesh of the bunched up arm, as Dr Sanders had shown her, and press the plunger, especially as Linda flinched as she did it.

The child was shivering with cold, Jenny realized as she gently pulled down her sleeve and eased her into her coat again and buttoned it up. She brought over the blanket and put it around the two of them, then lay down beside Linda and put her arms around her, trying to warm her with her own body.

She must have dozed off, for when she woke, Jenny didn’t realize where she was for a moment or two. Then she saw a pair of solemn, blue-grey eyes staring into hers in the flickering beam of the flashlight. The child’s voice was slightly slurred – with the morphine Jenny supposed – but her mind seemed lucid enough as she said, as if she couldn’t believe it, ‘You came back.’

‘I said I would.’

‘I know.’

‘You didn’t believe me?’

‘I tried to, I waited a long time.’

‘It took a long time,’ Jenny said. ‘I told you that. I’d also cut my hands and legs getting to you and I had to have them dressed. Not that it did my hands much good,’ she added, because though her legs and feet had been protected by heavy-duty trousers and boots, the bandages around her hands were filthy dirty and were virtually ripped to shreds.

‘Would you like a drink of water?’ she asked.

‘You’ve got water?’ Linda said, amazed. ‘I’ve dreamed about having a drink. My throat is so dry.’

‘You can’t take too much,’ Jenny warned. ‘It might have to last some time. I have special energy biscuits too. Are you hungry?’

‘I was,’ Linda admitted. ‘Terribly hungry. It went off, but I’d love a drink.’

She lifted the water bottle to her mouth and had the urge to drink and drink until it was all gone, but when the water had just taken the dust from the back of her throat and done nothing to slake her thirst, Jenny put her hand on the bottle. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘but you can’t have any more just now.’

‘No?’ Linda said with a sigh.

‘How’s the pain?’ Jenny asked.

‘Better, much better,’ Linda said.

Jenny sighed with relief. ‘That’s the injection your doctor gave me to give you,’ she said.

‘You gave me an injection?’ Linda’s voice was high with surprise.

‘I did,’ Jenny said with a smile. ‘I was scared stiff, I’ve never done such a thing before. I’m glad it’s worked.’

‘Who are you?’

‘My name’s Jenny O’Leary,’ Jenny told the child, ‘and I live in Pype Hayes Road. I know you are Linda Lennox because your neighbours told us all about you.’

‘Have you seen Mom?’ Linda said. ‘She’ll want to know I’m all right – has anyone told her?’

‘I don’t know, love,’ Jenny said gently.

‘And my brothers,’ Linda went on. ‘I bet they was dead scared in that raid.’

‘I expect so, love,’ Jenny said miserably, unable to keep the depression out of her voice.

‘Were they hurt or summat?’ Linda demanded and Jenny realized she could probably read the distress on her face. ‘They should have been all right,’ she went on, ‘they was in the shelter.’

‘Linda, I’ll have to turn the lamp off,’ Jenny told her. ‘We may need it later and we’re just wasting the battery now. Will you mind?’

‘Not now you’re here,’ the young girl confided. ‘It was horrible on my own.’

‘Well, I’m going nowhere, so don’t you worry,’ Jenny said. She clicked off the lamp, glad of the velvet dark around them concealing the deep sorrow she felt for the child beside her.