Diamonds Fall (6 page)

"Sad," he said.

"Yes," Annabel croaked. "Hetty has gone to heaven," she added after a short pause.

Billy seemed to not quite understand the concept of a person dying and he'd never really spoken to Hetty. However, he knew Patsy cared about her like family. He looked up at Annabel.

"Patsy sad?" he asked.

"Yes," Annabel repeated, "and baby." At this they both glanced down at the little pink infant, still covered in Hetty's drying blood.

"Dani bring baby. Billy look after it."

Annabel, tripping over her feet, sank to the floor beside him, leaning her head on Billy's large shoulder. He patted it before returning his hand to the back of the child. Looking down into the blankets Annabel traced a finger across the baby's soft head and down its cheek, managing a small smile. They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time, looking on at the small baby asleep in Billy's loving arms.

Daniel and Patsy came in just as darkness was drawing in. Daniel had his arm around Patsy who was still sniffling, her eyes bright red and bloodshot. They came over, sitting around the baby as if in some nativity parody.

"What - what is it?" she hiccupped, motioning towards the baby. Annabel shook her head and looked towards Billy. When he didn't answer either she gently peered beneath the blankets.

"A girl."

Annabel heard Daniel suck in a breath through his teeth.

"He'll kill her," he stated.

"What do we do?"

"I don't know." Daniel ran a hand through his blonde hair, sweeping it out of his eyes. "'e can't know. We keep her `ere. Say - say that Hetty and the baby both died - I put him outside, I'll tell `im when he wakes up. Had he passed out from drink?"

"No," Patsy's voice sounded rough and strained. "'e was drunk alright, `urtin' Hetty he was. Anna hit him. Good job too he woulda...well, I guess she died anyway didn't she?"

Daniel put his arm back around Patsy's shoulder as she sniffled and he looked up at Annabel. There was softness in his hazel eyes. They were the exact same shade as Billy's.

"Thank you," he whispered. A small crease appeared between his brows. "Let's hope he don't remember when he wakes." He gave her a small, tight smile.

"You're Daniel aren't you?"

The corners of his mouth twitched slightly and he nodded.

"This ain't how we shoulda met. Shouldn't of met at all really. I'm sorry you were brought here."

There was hell in his eyes too, that haggard look of seeing too much too young. He kissed the top of Patsy's head in a fatherly way before moving to stand up. She clung onto him.

"I need to move Hetty. Mama'll be back soon and you know she's on their side. She can't know before Tom. I'll be right back, promise."

Patsy nodded, letting her hands fall limply at her sides. "We'll bury her soon."

Daniel squeezed Patsy's shoulder. "It's the least she deserves."

He stood up, making his way to the door. They all knew they couldn't leave Hetty alone in that house.

"The baby needs to go up the ladder," Patsy whispered. "She can't be found."

"No. Baby no leave." Billy clung to the baby tighter.

"No Billy, baby's not goin' away. Just moving her upstairs, it'll be safer. Tom won't get her up there."

"Horses be lonely."

"No they've got each other, baby's got no one."

"Baby got Billy." He kissed her small head. "Billy baby's papa now."

Nobody had ever, in the history of man, uttered anything with more determination than Billy just then. As the words hung in the silent air the four of them drank them in, nourished by a new, fleeting sense of hope.

Patsy stood up, explaining that she needed to find milk for the now restless baby. Annabel thought Patsy also wanted to be alone, to have time to think over the horrific events of the day without anyone watching her, so she let her go without protest.

The baby, hungry and exhausted after its stressful birth, began to whine and fidget in Billy's cradling arms. He jiggled her up and down but this just made it worse. Holding her tighter to him they both sat in silent terror, listening for footfalls outside the door. In their fright they convinced each other that every breath of wind was a voice, every stomp of the horse's hooves was a fist falling onto supple flesh.

Both Billy and Annabel jumped almost out of their own skin when Patsy threw open the door, her arms laden with buckets of water and milk. The baby sucked on this sustenance greedily as Billy dripped it into her mouth. Patsy had clearly washed herself in the stream as well when she had fetched the water. Her face and arms were now clean, although her dress was still splattered with blood. Annabel slurped the water out of her cupped hands, feeling the cool liquid radiate through her body.

When Daniel re-emerged a few minutes later, his face was lined with new sadness. His own skin had been washed in the stream as well.

Now they were all together, they ascended into the loft. Annabel and Patsy went first. Her legs still shaky from shock Annabel slipped on the first rung, falling back down to the floor. Daniel placed a hand on her arm to steady her. Annabel started. The touch was familiar, safe. She turned her attentions back to the ladder as she tried to remember where she could have met him before, her mind came up blank.

Daniel followed behind Annabel, carrying a water bucket in one hand, climbing with the other. Billy was also adept at climbing this ladder, so was able to carry the baby at the same time. When they reached the top, Billy washed the child in the water, leaving a tender hand behind her head as he did so. Slowly, as the blood and mucus peeled away, they saw the beautiful pink skin of the baby and the soft tufts of dark brown hair atop her delicate head. When her eyes opened for the first time they were the exact same, stunning grey of Hetty's. As if they had been carved from solid crystal.

Billy, with a gentle, caring touch, managed to rock the child to sleep almost instantly, drifting off himself moments later. As they watched Billy and the baby sleeping peacefully in the corner, Daniel ran his hands through his hair looking defeated. He drew in a shaky breath.

"I - I told Tom wha' happened. He woke up an' saw me on me way back. I said Hetty hadn't survived. I told him the baby was a girl but that she died with Hetty. He's angry more than sad. Hit me, saying she was too weak and deserved to die. But `e's too drunk to get me proper now. Said he already had two sons, she'd done `er duty."

Tears were leaking out of Annabel's eyes, she swiped them away, annoyed at her own emotions. She had been here five minutes. These wonderful, brave people had been here their entire lives. Daniel reached a hand across to hers, squeezing her fingers awkwardly. They both sat stock still, frightened by this rare form of physical and emotional closeness. Slowly he reached out his other arm and placed it back around Patsy's shoulders, securing a bond between the three of them that would last their entire lives.

When it was deemed late enough to be safe, Daniel snuck into the house next door, coveting a large bowl of the burnt stew Patsy and her mother had cooked. Saving some for Billy, the three allies ate with only the sound of their chewing to fill the heavy darkness.

Daniel's eyes were fixed on Annabel as she greedily lapped up the last of her stew.

"You need more food," he muttered, in an attempt to lighten the mood somewhat but he wasn't really into it. His voice sounded as lifeless as his smile. "I can find you more if you like."

"No, really it's alright," she insisted. "I'm just being greedy. Don't go out of your way. Stay here where it's safe."

"I'll bring you a candle in the morning," Patsy said, almost as if un-aware the others had spoken at all. She stood up. Daniel watched her with the same concerned crease between his brows. She walked to the makeshift bed where she curled up, facing the wall.

"Anna," she murmured.

Hearing the despair in her friend's voice Annabel sat beside her.

"What is it?"

"Tell me something `bout your manor. Tell me `bout the jewels again, so I don' dream about today."

"Of course."

Brushing a strand of fiery hair off of Patsy's face, as a mother might do to their child, Annabel once more began to describe her former fairy tale life, as if she were reading a bedtime story. A single tear fled from her eye as she spoke, realising with a heavy heart how pointless everything in that life had been. The dresses, the jewels, the etiquette and standards had all been nothing but a ridiculous show of her own self-perceived importance.

Patsy's hand stroked over a square of cow hide as Annabel spoke, looking more childlike than ever. After a while her shoulders began to shake.

Leaving Patsy to her grief, Annabel kissed her cheek before settling back beside Daniel. At some point in her tale he had retreated back down the ladder to fetch more hay which he had arranged on the floor. After easing the baby from Billy's slack arms he placed her into something resembling a nest. Billy curled up beside her as if on instinct, still snoring quietly.

"I'm sorry," Annabel whispered. She knew this was an empty thing to say even before the words had formed on her lips.

"For what?" Daniel asked.

"Hetty. I should have done more. I don't know what, but surely there was something -"

"There was nothin', you did better than anyone else could `ave."

"But it wasn't enough."

A long silence followed these words. The desperate sadness pounded through her blood until Annabel could barely stand it. She wanted to wake up, to go back to her fine things...for an imperfect cup of tea to be her biggest worry.

After all they had witnessed, Daniel and Annabel were unaware of anything left to say. Every topic seemed so trivial. Besides, Annabel didn't know anything about Daniel, nor him about her. The tension grew until out of nowhere, Daniel started to hum.

He chose a melancholy tune, his forearms resting against his knees and his head bent towards the ground, as if in prayer. Annabel had never heard the song before but it fit the situation so perfectly she could have cried. Her ears prickled and strained as she listened with rapt attention. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. His voice carried the song perfectly, staying low and quiet yet smooth, gliding over the notes with practiced ease. She brought her own knees up under her chin and tilted her head to the side, shuffling subconsciously closer. She truly believed in that moment, she would do anything for the people in that small, grimy stable. The realisation was at the same time both terrifying and exhilarating.

All too soon Daniel stopped singing. The darkness mourned the loss of his music, once more becoming thick and oppressive. It crept into every crevice of the small room so Annabel felt blind, unable to even see her hands three inches from her face.

Hearing Daniel shift beside her she looked up. She only saw the whites of his eyes facing her in the gloom. The sounds of Patsy's grief had drifted some time ago into the uneven breath of someone deep in slumber. Every now and then a groan escaped her lips and Annabel felt sure she was reliving the horrific birth of the baby as she slept.

"What happened to Hetty?" Annabel asked, speaking quietly to avoid disturbing her sleeping friends. Daniel didn't answer for a few minutes but when he did his voice sounded strained, as if he too were anxious. He seemed on the surface to be dealing with Hetty's horrible death with an almost blasé attitude but, having been at the scene herself, Annabel saw that deep down he was barely clinging on.

"I don't know," he whispered. He sounded angry. "Tom took her. I didn't wanna tell Patsy, it'd make `er worse."

He shuffled, unable to sit still at the mention of his brother. Annabel's cheeks grew hot with anger as well.

"What will he do to her?"

Daniel's arm brushed Annabel's as he ran a hand through his hair, drawing in another shaky breath.

"I - I don't know." His voice caught and his body stiffened. His shoulder next to hers was trembling, making the material of her dress scratch against her skin. She didn't dare move.

"She deserved more - so much more. I shoulda given it to `er. She wanted me but I - I thought she'd marry someone better, someone good for her. I got angry when she had the twins, didn't understand why she'd done it. I thought she were gettin' back at me for - for breakin' her heart. I left her alone `cuz Tom was already jealous, thought we were sleepin' together or summit but I never, not with her. I didn't see her like that. I shoulda helped her more. I shoulda been there...or married `er when she asked, not put her in `is way."

"You didn't Daniel. How could you have known this would happen?"

"She was always fiery. She wanted what she wanted ya know? But I jus'...there was another girl I liked, but then tha' didn't work. She were havin' it away with another man, ran off to the town with `im. I had to stay `ere, had to keep an eye on Hetty. Seein' Hetty with Tom, weak an' broken after I'd turned her down for someone worth less than nothin' to me now. It nearly killed me every day."

"Did you love Hetty?"

There was another long silence.

"Not the way she wanted, as a friend or a sister perhaps, but nothin' more. I coulda looked after `er though...helped her. Maybe I coulda got her outta this shit heap."

"You can't blame yourself Daniel. You just can't. It wasn't your fault. You will go mad convincing yourself that it was."

"Then why do I feel like this?" His voice caught and his shoulder shook even more. Letting go of her reservations Annabel stretched out her hand and folded it around his. It was rough beneath her touch but all the more comforting for its imperfection.

"Because you cared and that is never ever something to let go of."

It was then, with the comforting touch of another human being beside him, that he let go completely. Finally unable to keep the tears from pouring out of his eyes they dripped down onto the dust carpeted floor with a soft, rhythmic plunk. Annabel moved her hand tentatively onto his broad back, rubbing it in some feeble attempt to comfort him.

His shirt was warm beneath her palm. The sound of his emotion, so close to her ear, stirred feelings deep within Annabel's heart. She wanted to cry along with him but she held back. These people had seen hell; she didn't have the right to cry.

Slowly, Daniel's breathing evened out and Annabel let him go, allowing him to wipe his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands and brush the hair once more from his face. He leaned back against the wall. Annabel's hands felt empty now as they rested in her lap. Daniel seemed to notice Annabel's loneliness and put his hand back in hers. She leaned her head against the wall too. Daniel began to hum again, the same melancholy tune. Annabel felt his body vibrate with the sound, as the music completely filled her every sense. She closed her eyes against the oppressive darkness and drifted slowly into a dreamless sleep, the reassuring warmth of Daniel at her side.

They all slept fitfully that night, being woken at least every hour by the shrill shrieks of the tiny baby in their midst, calling out for the mother who would never come. The cries seemed to convey pain from her very soul.

However, when Annabel awoke in the morning, she felt oddly warm. Becoming aware of the body beside her almost immediately, she opened her eyes.

They had shifted in their unconsciousness so Annabel's head was now resting on Daniel's shoulder. She pressed herself closer to him, still half asleep as she listened to the rhythm of his heart. He smelt of soap and earth...a smell that once again Annabel found strangely familiar, although her foggy brain couldn't conjure up the appropriate memory. A few moments later Daniel began to stir as well, jerking awake and letting go of Annabel as if he'd been burned. He stood up quickly, looking down as hurt crossed over Annabel's face, followed by the shock that she had been so close to someone for such an extended period of time.

Daniel looked as if he wanted to say something. Seeming to change his mind at the last minute, he turned and bent down to check on Patsy, still asleep on the straw. He touched her shoulder lightly, stirring her from sleep. When she opened her eyes they were red and puffy, as if she had been crying all night. Her face was blotchy whilst her chestnut hair stuck up in strange angles. The worst thing about her was a frightening vacancy in the depths of her dark eyes...there had always been so much passion about her. Daniel was talking now in a low, sympathetic voice, his hand still resting on Patsy's shoulder whilst she nodded at various intervals in the conversation.

Annabel was still sat in the same spot, stiff and achy from another night of sleeping on the floor, her more prominent bones having rubbed against the hard wood. It felt like new bruises were blooming up already.

Quietly both Patsy and Daniel rose. As Patsy walked past, she brushed a hand over the top of Annabel's head. Daniel supported Patsy's clumsy steps as they climbed down the ladder, whilst simultaneously avoiding Annabel's gaze with a slightly worried frown, almost identical to the one currently creasing Patsy's forehead. A few more seconds passed before the thud of the door closing resonated through the stable. The sound jerked Billy awake. His eyes darted immediately towards the sleeping infant in concern. The baby was already awake but for once was silent, kicking out her tiny legs with small, jerky movements.

"Morning Billy," Annabel croaked, wincing as a sharp pain shot down her neck when she tried to stretch it. She massaged the muscles, loosening the crick and thought longingly of the feather pillows back in the manor. Billy had now gathered the baby into his arms and was rocking her slowly. He glanced at Annabel and grinned, revealing all of his small, brown teeth.

"Mornin' Anna." He looked back down at the child. "Baby happy," he stated.

Still on his knees, Billy shuffled towards Annabel, coating his thin trousers with dust. When he reached her he shifted the baby wordlessly into her arms.

"Billy go." He inclined his head towards the door and she understood that he must work. She cradled the baby closer to her chest. It was the first time she had ever held a baby before. The weight felt strange in her arms.

Watching the baby's eyes roaming in their sockets, desperately trying to figure out the world around her, Annabel felt saddened that Hetty would never be able to look upon these tiny features. Never be able to smile at how perfect they were. Never be able to hear the soft breath entering and leaving the newly formed lungs, or to marvel at the complexities of every little thing about her youngest child. A single tear fled down Annabel's cheek, landing on the baby's forehead. She watched it trickle down into the soft tuft of raven hair before wiping it gently away.

Annabel now felt a much more familiar feeling stir in her breast...anger. How could this child grow up without a mother? Death was always described in the bible as something beautiful, glorious.

Hetty's had been anything but.

She hoped beyond anything there was something like heaven for Hetty to escape her pain, yet in her heart of hearts she knew there wasn't. Hetty would rot in the ground, or whatever godforsaken place Tom had dumped her and become nothing more than food for the worms. There wasn't anything poetic about that.