Helpmeet

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Bleak House

Copyright: Public Domain/BBC

"You have four schools today, my love. I recommend a hasty sandwich."

Prince watches languidly from his couch as Caddy rushes back and forth to collect her sheet music, button little Esther's dress, hunt for her misplaced shoes, and throw together the recommended sandwich to eat between lessons. Thinking of yesterday's excellent roast chicken and mashed potatoes waiting in the larder for her husband and daughter, something in Caddy snaps. She is a patient woman, but even patience has its limits.

"I know," she tells him brusquely. "Would it be too much to ask for you to come along and help me?"

Esther's eyes widen as she watches them from the doorway. She is used to her mother's occasional sharpness, but rarely when directed at her father.

"Oh, Caddy, please don't ask me. You know I can't."

Prince's handsome face crumples with pain and humiliation as he gestures to his ruined legs. Ever since his unfortunate fall downstairs, in too much of a hurry to run one of his errands for old Mr. Turveydrop, the hardworking man she fell in love with has been a shadow of his former self. It breaks her heart to look at him, and in her pity, she has fallen into the habit of waiting on him more attentively than she ever did for her father-in-law. She hadn't realized, until now, how harmful that kind of help might actually be.

"Your arms seem to be in fine working order," she points out. "Why don't you play the music while I teach?"

"And watch the dancing?" he says bitterly. "And become an object of pity and contempt for all the children and their parents?"

Caddy rolls her eyes, but makes an effort to speak more gently. She has learned over her years of marriage that losing her temper, though unavoidable sometimes, is rarely helpful. Especially with such sensitive men as the Turveydrops.

"If anyone is to be an object of contempt this morning, I am," she jokes. "You know my piano playing isn't worth a farthing compared to yours. Come now, my love, please help me. You know I can't do without you."

She catches his gaze, silently letting him know how much she means it, how frustrated and tired she is from running the school by herself, and how much she needs him. Come back, she wants to tell him. Come back and be my Prince again.

He must have understood, because his jaw hardens with fierce determination as he gestures for Esther to bring him his wheelchair. Slowly, awkwardly, the three of them maneuver him into it, and their daughter smiles with pride as she stands behind him to push.

He looks up at her with wide, anxious eyes, almost the way he did when he first proposed to her. She can se that he dreads being seen by their students, self-conscious as he is about his appearance, but she knows equally well that allowing him to spend the rest of his life on that couch would be infinitely worse.

"Thank you," Caddy murmurs, kissing her husband on the cheek. "I knew I could rely on you."

"I certainly hope so," Prince replies.