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Sweat broke out on her face as she saw him. This couldn't be him not after all these years of waiting. Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks as she looked at this sneering face glaring down at her. Her eyes sprung open, she realised it was a dream. He hadn't come yet.
Claw like hands kept plucking at the bedding. All that could be heard in the dim lit room was the clicking of needles as the nurse knit. Occasionally her tongue made the same clicking sound at her patient as she said, "Now then dear don't get agitated, he will soon be here, it was you who agreed to this, against your families advice." These words were kept being repeated at regular intervals as the nurse could feel the frail old lady's agitation grow as she plucked more and more at the eiderdown.
Everything in the room resembled the oldness of the occupant. Small shivers of light came through the curtains where they did not fully meet. The furniture was dark and heavy with no lightness of feeling to it.
The old lady was partly propped up in a double bed that made her already small frail body seem even smaller. Pillows surrounded her to keep her propped up. A thick woollen shawl was around her shoulders, despite the fact the room already had a cloying, sickly heat about it. No more could be seen of the body, but a small face and the claw like hands.
The nurse paused a moment in her knitting to study the face. Yes, she supposed, there had once been beauty there. She had seen a portrait of the old lady as a young girl and she had been beautiful, even then it was in a delicate way. But there again all the tales she had heard of the lady contradicted this, she had always been strong in spirit. Hard to believe today looking at her, but after all she was ninety one years old. Thinking to herself the nurse wondered if she would live to that great age herself and despite apparent frailness still have all her faculties. She gave a small jump as she was broken from her thoughts by the question "What time is it, shouldn't he be here now?
The nurse quickly replied "It is not time yet, my dear, only another half an hour to wait. Now why don't you shut your eyes and have a few minutes rest so you look your best for him.
As her patient settled back down she thought yes I can still see that beauty there, despite the ravages of age. The face was hollowed cheeked, with many lines on it, which in a way added a quiet dignity to the features. It was the eyes that added that something, even though dimmed with age they still seemed to have a life of their own with a sparkle that could not be extinguished.
The nurse didn't really realise how active a mind her patient had despite her body that was frail and appeared to be letting that mind down. She had only worked here a week. Even so she would have some tales to tell when she saw her daughter again. Eh! how the gentry really lived, if some of us ordinary folk did half they did we would be looked upon as outcasts. Yet it seemed alright for the gentry to get away with things.
Slowly the needles started clicking again, as she saw the eyes shut and thought good she is having a cat nap, it will do her good, if he does come she should be at her best, if that's possible.
Little did she realise the appearance of drifting into and out of consciousness was really only a way for Eleanor to think. Oh, she had so many thoughts, so many memories. But were these memories really over seventy years ago, surely it had all happened last week, last year. Time had a funny way of deceiving as if it had happened so near yet so far away. The nurse was right in her thoughts that Eleanor was fully alert in mind if not body. Her mind could still function fully even if it did play tricks of time. This had only happened with him coming to see her. It had brought it all so vividly back. She knew her family were cross with her but she no longer cared. Her only regret was that she had not let her strong will be dominant seventy years ago. But then again times were different. A girl was brought up that she did as her parents said and did not question the fact.
Eleanor had always looked fragile but had inside her a strong will of iron. Over the years as she had lived in a progressive society so she developed her ability to speak her mind and do as she really wanted. This was why she really wanted to see him. Of course it should not have been this man who was coming to see her, but the other man was dead. Funny he had died before her, yet he had only been seventy years old when he died. Hard to imagine that he had grown up, had his own life and family and become an old man himself. All she could think of was the baby, he had been a baby when she had last seen him, she tried to picture what he would have been like when he grew up. Would there have been a family resemblance. There again would this young man, but he wasn't such a young man, he was forty five years old, would he look like Harry. These thoughts drifted her into thinking about Harry. I wonder if he has lived to a great age like me. I don't even know that, in fact I don't know what happened to him, what kind of life he had, even if time was kind to him. But I can remember his face. He was attractive, so alive and vibrant. Why can't I go back seventy years, oh life would be so different. A small tear spilled down her cheek and quickly she wiped it away. She did not want that silly woman of a nurse see her feelings. After all most of her real thoughts and feelings had been kept hidden for seventy years, why reveal them to a stranger, a nurse at that. Still this attitude of class differences appeared every so often in her manner.
The nurse seeing the hand move said "Nearly time now my dear."
No sooner were the words out then a gentle tap came at the bedroom door.

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