Pain began to blossom inside me, somewhere down in the pit of
the stomach. I cursed that it came at that moment for I knew I wouldn’t have long before I started to perspire. Soon after that, conversation would become impossible.
‘I can’t die until you say you’ve forgiven me.’ There. It was out.
Her face was small and dark and set, and even then I could see what I had found so difficult in her as a child, that she would never reveal anything, that I could never work out what she was thinking.
She could have said,
for
what
? Then I would have said,
for the fact that I wasn’t very kind to you when you was little, when you was poorly.
Then we both would have understood that it was all right to talk not directly about things. Then the talk could have moved on quickly to being ordinary.
But instead, she said, ‘Why d’you do it, Mum? Why were you like that with me all the time? You weren’t with the others.’ She was looking at me.
I had not expected this, this challenge from her. The pain began to radiate out, to travel up through my chest cavity and to my limbs. I would have to ask her to fetch one of the others, soon.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, breathing hard. ‘I do know that if you’d stood up to me, just once, I’d have stopped, but you just took it and took it, whatever I gave you. I never understood what you were about.’
‘I was a child, Mum.’
‘I know.’
My sight began to blur. The shape of her sitting in the chair wavered, became diagonal.
‘I forgive you, Mum.’ Her voice sounded distant.
I tried to arch my back slightly, as if I could lift myself away from the pain, but I knew it was no use.
‘Do you really?’ I could hear the wincing in my voice. I had to finish soon, ‘or are you just saying that?’
‘I do,’ she said quickly. ‘Mum, shall I get Scarlet or Fenella?’ Her voice was high pitched with anxiety.
I nodded. The movement sent small rockets of pain up the back of my head. ‘Get Scarlet.’
She left hurriedly. I closed my eyes and thought, I didn’t even ask her about that boy of hers.
Scarlet came quickly, with the pills and a glass of tepid water. She sat by me and stroked my hand while the pills did their work, oh so slowly, and made the pain a dull, bearable ache, instead of a fire. Afterwards, she left and I dozed for a while.
*
Later, there was a light knock at the door. It opened, and Clementina came in. She was carrying a small tray with a china plate and a glass of milk. She set them both on the bedside table. On the plate was four pieces of bread cut into neat triangles and spread thickly with butter.
‘I’ve brought you some supper,’ she said.
My head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool. With Clementina’s help, I managed to raise myself slightly. She plumped up the pillows behind me, then sat down on the upright chair and handed me the glass.
The milk was ice cold. It slipped right down. For the first time in a week, I drained it all. Clementina noted it as she took the glass from me.
She handed me the china plate. It was one of my favourites, a very old one from when Elijah and I were first married, with gilt edging, faded now, and yellow rosebuds. I looked down at it. The pieces of bread had been neatly arranged, overlapping each other.
‘I haven’t seen this plate in years,’ I said, ‘where d’you find it?’
‘Billy made your supper,’ Clementina replied. ‘She found the plate at the back of the dresser.’
I lifted one of the pieces of bread and took a small bite, then put it back on the plate. Swallowing was very uncomfortable.
‘Why didn’t she bring it up herself?’
‘She had to get back. You were asleep.’
There was a long silence between us. It came to me that Clementina, my mother-in-law, was the one member of my family I could rely on to tell me the truth.
‘I’ve not got long, have I?’ I asked her, looking her directly in the face.
She shook her head.
‘What did Mehitable say when she came downstairs?’
For the first time ever, I saw hesitation in Clementina’s eyes.
‘Tell me,’ I said quickly. ‘Don’t give me any guff. You, of all people …’
‘She said you asked for her forgiveness and she gave it.’
‘And?’
‘Scarlet said did you mean it, and she said yes.’
‘And what else?’
‘Rose…’ Clementina said. I thought how strange it was to hear her use my name, how we had known each other all these decades but hardly ever used each other’s names.
I gathered all the little strength I had left. ‘Clementina,’ I said, ‘I’ve never asked you anything my whole life, but I’m asking it now. I want you to tell me honestly what my daughter said when she got downstairs. What you’ve got to realise is that, however bad it was, if I don’t know then I’ll wonder and wonder and that is far worse and I think I’ve a right to know so I can get it straight in my head before I go.’ It was the longest speech I had made for some weeks and it exhausted me. Towards the end of it, my voice was so hoarse she had to lean towards me to catch my words.
She stared at me, then said, ‘Scarlet asked her did you mean it, and she said yes, then she said, I’ve forgiven her but don’t go expecting me to put flowers on her grave every Sunday, I’ve forgiven her and that’s it, I’m done with it.’
The pain returned anew, a long, slow wash of it, like the tide coming in. I closed my eyes and exhaled. When I opened them, Clementina was leaning forward to take the plate. ‘She made you a
nice supper,’ she said quietly. ‘She dug out that plate because she knew you liked it, and washed it too, and she went and opened a new bottle of milk from the larder so you’d get the cream of it cold.’
‘Thank you,’ I said.
*
After that, dying got a bit easier for a few days. The doctor visited every morning. Dan, Fenella and Scarlet popped in and out. Fenella liked to read to me from the paper and I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t interested as I knew it pleased her to be doing something for me. Whenever I got worried that she needed a break, I would say, ‘I think I’ll have a little sleep now.’
Fenella, always the beautiful one. She had taken to wearing her hair back off her face. It suited her but made her look older. I was worried how Tom and the girls would be managing without her but she never mentioned it.
I wasn’t frightened in the times they left me alone. There is something wonderful about letting your mind wander around a bit, let it float free. Once you are released from spending all day, every day, worrying about what there is for supper and how you are going to keep the house clean – it’s amazing how much time you have to think of other things. I found myself wondering, is this what it is like being a fine lady, a Lady Something, or a Dame or Baroness – or a Princess, even? Do they lie around, wondering what to think about? Of course, if you are such a person, then you do not even know that you have nothing to think about. You think thinking about nothing is being busy.
All sorts of odd things came in and out of my head. I remembered things I did not know were still inside me somewhere. I remembered how, in the bad days at Paradise Street, I had been so desperate for money that I had looked into Clementina’s purse one day, when she was out walking Bartholomew up and down the road to get him to sleep. She had left her purse, a small velvet
thing, with a drawstring, on the shelf by the door. I had gone to it and emptied it into my hands and had been disappointed to find nothing but a few farthings. Then I felt it, squeezed it in my hand, and realised there must be another pocket or a torn lining inside, as I could feel something hard.
I turned the purse inside out. There, it was, a secret little pocket, with a flap, stitched into the lining. I got quite excited at that point, for it came to me that Elijah’s mother was just the sort of mad old lady who might have gold sovereigns hidden in a box under her bed. Maybe she’s secretly wealthy, I thought. Her type often are. The coin I could feel was about the right size for a sovereign.
With a bit of fiddling, I managed to extract it, and then, of course, I was sorely disappointed. It was just a sixpence, one of the old sort, with the Queen’s hair up in a bun and her looking like a younger woman – later, they made her look much older. Why on earth is she keeping an old sixpence buried secretively in her purse? I thought to myself. It was smaller than a sovereign, of course. I had let my imagination run away with me.
I had only just returned the coin to its secret pouch and replaced the purse on the shelf, when the door opened and in came Clementina, Bartholomew asleep on her shoulder.
I swear she guessed what I had been doing, for she gave me a look so poisonous that I turned and fled upstairs.
*
There were only a few occasions when Elijah and I were able to be alone together on River Farm, so it’s not surprising they’ve stuck in my mind. There was one in particular … It was the only time we were able to be together for a few hours at a stretch. I can’t remember the excuse I gave back on the farm, how I managed it.
May. Is there a better month? The sky is never brighter the whole year than it is in May. We had been lying on a bank of some sort, looking at the sky. There were woods behind us and nobody about. It was like we had the whole world to ourselves. I remember how
we kissed, our carelessness.
Nobody
knows
where
I
am.
Nobody
can
find
me,
lost
in
this
man’s
kisses.
We did some talking as well, and some staring at the sky, and then a bit more kissing. I asked him how he learned to kiss so well and he got a bit funny with me, not liking to own up that he’d kissed a few other gorjer lasses, I bet, for that was one skill he certainly hadn’t picked up among his own.
The grass around us was long and dry – the sun hot.
After a while, he jumped to his feet. He stood upright before me. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sun, so I could look up at him.
‘I’m tired of courting,’ he declared. ‘Let’s box!’
I sat up. ‘Box?’
‘Aye, boxing. ‘’Tis great sport and there’s nothing better to watch than two fellas who know what they’re about.’ He was rolling up his sleeves. Then he reached out and pulled me up from the bank. He squared up to me. ‘Come on, Rosie,’ he nodded, ‘you’re a fair-sized lass. Let’s see what you’re made of.’
I thought he was mad, of course. But we circled for a while, and he made a few feigning jabs at me, with me shrieking ‘Elijah!’ in alarm, each time. Then, I do believe I managed to land one on him, for I was a good few inches taller. My fist glanced the side of his nose and he threw his face back in an exaggerated fashion. I stopped and dropped my hands, aghast I might have hurt him, and he took advantage of my dismay to throw himself upon me and push me backwards so I landed, winded and gasping, back on the bank.
I was panting. I could feel his weight upon me – a sweet weight, a weight that owned and claimed me, a weight that said,
I’ll not release you for the world.
He was silent for a while, still lying on me, using one hand to prop his face up, resting the elbow on the ground beside my head, and the other hand to stroke my hair back where I had gone a little sweaty at the temples.
‘Why Elijah Smith,’ I murmured, feeling him shift a little, ‘I do believe you have told me an outright lie. You’re not tired of courting at all.’
*
I lay on my deathbed and thought of this, and I forgave Elijah everything. I must tell him when he comes up, I thought, that I forgive him everything.
*
Later, there was a light tap at the door – and Clementina came in. She hovered at the door for a moment, and I could tell she was trying to work out whether I was asleep or not. Silly woman, I thought, of course I’m not asleep. After a moment, she came forward and rested two of her fingers gently against my neck. Then she stood up.
I opened my eyes. How had I seen her, before, if my eyes had been closed? My head is playing funny tricks with me, I thought.
Clementina was staring down at me. Her face was serious. Was something wrong?
‘The children want to come up, to say their goodbyes,’ she said quietly. ‘Have you got enough puff for it?’
I nodded.
*
In they came, one by one: Dan, Fenella, Scarlet, in that order. Only Scarlet managed not to cry, and it was a great relief to me, for I felt as though I had not one ounce of strength left in me, and I could not bear one minute more of anybody else’s grief. We held each other’s hands in silence for a while, then talked a little, then we had a little more silence, and the silence was lovely.
‘Shall I send Dad up?’ she asked gently, after a while.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I don’t want your dad. I want your gran.’
She didn’t seem surprised but then, all through her life, Scarlet rarely was.
When Clementina returned to me, it was as if she had aged
while she had been waiting downstairs. Slowly she came, clutching at the door handle with her bony fingers, leaning on her stick. She sat down on the upright chair and looked at me, with those piercing black eyes of hers, and suddenly, I would have given a wild laugh if I had been able, for I realised I now had licence to say whatever I liked to her, after all these years.
‘Well, Mother,’ I said, ‘you said I’d sup sorrow until the day I died, and you were right.’
She nodded, and to my astonishment, I saw that her eyes were rimmed with tears.
‘You’re not going to let me down, are you, Mother?’ I said, although my voice had suddenly become a strange whisper, hoarse but high. An odd calm had come over me.
Clementina looked at me, then sniffed loudly. ‘What am I going to do?’ she said, and her voice was practical as always.
‘Oh, you’ll manage …’ I whispered, and a cloudiness descended upon me. My sight of her became misty, then was enveloped in white.
I am going where none of you can reach me
,
I thought and I felt unfrightened and lucid and at peace.