by Jane Renshaw
The Sweetest Poison
Jane Renshaw
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, institutions and organizations are products of the author’s imagination or used fictionally.
Text copyright © 2019 Jane Renshaw
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author.
Cover design by The Cover Collection.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
When she was eight
1
2
3
When she was eighteen
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
When she was twenty-three
15
16
17
When she was thirty-four
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
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48
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50
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72
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74
Author’s Note
Acknowledgements
What They Found...
When she was eight
1
Helen looked up at the tree. There were plenty of pods hanging down from it, like peapods only skinnier.
How many would she need?
Yesterday when she was helping Daddy with the bales she had asked him, ‘How many laburnum seeds would someone have to eat before they died?’ and he’d shaken his head and said, ‘Hel’nie. You mustn’t ever take seeds from that tree,’ and she’d said, ‘I won’t. But how many would someone have to eat?’ and he’d shaken his head and said, ‘I don’t know, and I’m not just awful keen to find out.’
Helen wriggled her schoolbag off her back and dropped it down on the grass.
No one would see. The byre was between the tree and the kitchen window, and Daddy had gone up the fields to look at the calfies.
To reach the pods she would have to climb up on the fence, but Suzanne had shown her how to climb on barbed wire. She put one hand on the fence post under the tree, and one hand on the top wire, and climbed with her bum sticking out to keep her legs away from the jags. The wires were wobbly but she didn’t fall off. When she was high enough she let go the hand on the fence post and reached up and grabbed one of the pods.
It was as if the branch didn’t want to let go.
When they were little, Suzanne used to say peas were the pea plant’s children, and the peapod was a coat it had made for them, and when you ate peas you were eating the children. Even when she was little Helen hadn’t actually believed that, but now she couldn’t help thinking that the seeds were the tree’s children.
It had plenty though.
She leant out away from the fence so she could pull better, and the branch stretched and stretched but then it suddenly let go and flapped back. Helen grabbed the post.
She didn’t fall.
She could see the bumps of the seeds inside the pod. There were six.
Would that be enough?
She put the pod in the pocket of her pinafore dress and reached up for another. When she had five pods she jumped down off the fence and snatched up her schoolbag. She got into the straps and ran past the end of the byre and onto the track. If Mummy was at the kitchen window she might think, What was Helen doing round behind the byre? but if she asked after school Helen would say, ‘Playing with Baudrins.’
Her foot kicked a stone and it bounced down the track towards the bridge. She ran and jumped over the stone. The burn was gurgling under the bridge but she didn’t stop to look, she kept running until she got to the pine trees. Then in case of nettles she pulled her socks up and kicked her legs through the long grass at the side of the track until she was under the trees. Here the grass was short, with dead pine needles on it, and humps of moss. Through the trees she could see the wall of the steading at Mains of Clova, the big farm where Uncle Jim and Auntie Ina and Suzanne lived, but she couldn’t see the house. That was up past the steading.
She squatted down, took the laburnum pods out of her pocket and put them on the grass. Then she got the plastic box out of her bag and opened it, and took the top slice off one of the sandwiches. She picked up a pod and pressed its sides till it came apart. Inside was fluffy with the little black seeds snuggled down. The seed at the end was just little, like he was the baby.
She picked them all out and put them under the biggest juiciest slice of tomato. Except for the baby one. She made a hole in the earth and put him in it so he could grow into a tree. So he wouldn’t have to go inside Robin Beattie.
If someone stole a poisonous sandwich and ate it, that wasn’t murder.
That was their own fault.
Helen didn’t want to be a murderer, even if you didn’t get hung from the neck until you were dead any more. You still had to go to prison for about sixty-five years. What if Robin died before he’d finished the sandwich, and people found the bit he’d left and said, ‘Helen, why did you have poisonous laburnum in your sandwich?’
She would say, ‘I didn’t. I saw Robin put those seeds in that sandwich.’
◆◆◆
She ran past the steading and up across the yard towards the house. Auntie Ina didn’t have any flowerbeds, just hard ground and concrete at the front. At the back there was the Bleach Green, but that was just grass where she hung out her washing. Mummy said Auntie Ina liked it all bare because she thought it was neat and tidy, and nature and gardens were orra and in the way of things that had to be done on the farm.
The back door was open.
She could see Auntie Ina standing inside the scullery, and Suzanne’s feet kicking against the side of the kist where she always sat.
The scullery and the kitchen were in the bit of the house that stuck out at the back, and up above was the playroom. That used to be Jeannie Bell’s room. Jeannie Bell had been Grannie’s maid, before Daddy and Uncle Jim were born – sort of like a servant, but not like rich people had. Not like at the House. Grannie had needed someone to help her because there were six men working at the Mains then. They had all needed to be fed and have their clothes washed and everything. So Jeannie Bell had helped her.
Suzanne said Jeannie’s ghost haunted the playroom, and when she was little Helen had believed that, and once Suzanne had said, ‘What’s that noise like footsteps?’ and they had both screamed, and Helen had fallen right down the stairs from Jeannie’s room to the kitchen, and bumped her head, and Auntie Ina had taken her on her knee and put a cold
cloth on the sore place. And she’d said it must be a queer kind of ghost to be stumping round the Mains with Jeannie alive and well and living in a scheme in Aboyne. Suzanne wasn’t to frighten poor Hel’nie like that. But Auntie Ina hadn’t really been angry at Suzanne. She had smiled and smoothed Suzanne’s hair at the back where it stuck up.
Helen ran across the yard to the door and two hens ran in front of her and she nearly tripped over them. Silly craiters.
‘Well, Hel’nie,’ said Auntie Ina.
‘You’re late,’ said Suzanne. ‘Have you peed your pants?’
‘No.’
‘Have you got a sore stomach?’
Sometimes Helen told Mummy she had a sore stomach. Then Mummy would say, ‘Go as far as the Mains and see how you feel when you get there, and tell Auntie Ina if it’s still bad,’ but when she did Auntie Ina would just say, ‘I’m not as green as I’m cabbage-looking,’ and Helen still had to go to school.
She said, ‘No.’
Auntie Ina said, ‘Saving that for tomorrow?’
Helen shook her head, and Suzanne took her hand, and they ran across the yard.
This time tomorrow, Robin Beattie would probably be as dead as a doornail and she hoped he would be.
◆◆◆
Helen was Malfolio and Suzanne was Wonder Woman, and they were racing up the brae. The road sparkled where the shiny bits of stone were, like slices of diamond roadrollered in. Malfolio’s feet had thick brown fur all over them, and claws at the end that scratched on the pink and grey sparkly stones. He was a fast runner, and at the top of Worm Hill he had to stop by the Big Stone and wait for Wonder Woman. It was nice, with the wind, and the clouds all racing up in the sky and over back the way they had come. He couldn’t see home because of the woodie, but he could see the Lang Park up by the plantation and the calfies. He couldn’t see Daddy.
Helen wished she could run and run, back down the brae and down the track and past the Mains and home.
But that was stupid. She had to go to school, or else how could Robin eat the seeds? And there was still most of the way to go. She had plenty time left of being Malfolio.
Malfolio jumped up onto the Big Stone and looked up at where the moon would be and howled. It was bloodcurdling, and all the people in the houses grabbed their children and told them they couldn’t go out playing tonight because it just wasn’t safe.
Wonder Woman had stopped running, pretending she hadn’t been racing at all. She was picking flowers from the side of the road – campion because that was her favourite, and water aven because that was Malfolio’s. She said, ‘Okay, now you’re Wonder Woman, or you could still be Malfolio, and I’m a beautiful wedding bride. I’m called Demerara. This is my bouquet… and for the bridesmaids.’
‘And I’m your intended husband Malfolio, only you don’t know I’m a werewolf.’
‘We’re going to the kirk to get married.’
From the top of Worm Hill you could see down into Kirkton and the school playground, and the manse where Robin Beattie lived, and the kirkyard next to it.
Helen said, ‘All the people are waiting in the kirk.’
They started to run again, this time with Suzanne in front. Helen watched her thin legs in the white socks running and her purple coat flapping out behind her like her wedding dress. She should smooth her hair at the back before they got to the kirk. Mummy said it stuck up at the back because Auntie Ina cut it too short. But Malfolio didn’t care about things like that. Malfolio loved Demerara with all his heart and he didn’t care if her hair stuck up. He only bit nasty people. He’d been just a little boy when he’d become a werewolf and his parents had said, ‘Eeeuch we don’t want a werewolf in our house,’ and he’d lived in an orphanage.
Whoever she started out as, she always ended up being Malfolio.
Demerara wasn’t a very fast runner, and if Malfolio had wanted he could have caught her. Suzanne was just little, even though she was five months older than Helen, because she had been born before she was ready. She’d been a special baby because Auntie Ina had thought she couldn’t have any. But she’d had Suzanne.
When Robin Beattie was dead, he wouldn’t be able to tell Suzanne what to do. Helen put her hand round behind to her schoolbag and felt it jiggling. She would have to make sure the seeds hadn’t jiggled out of the bread.
At the kirkyard gate Demerara took Malfolio’s arm. ‘Now we’ve got confetti all on us… We’re going away on our honeymoon. Oh, Malfolio…’ She put her other hand up in the air and moved it about.
‘What’re you doing?’
‘Waving to the people. And now I’m going to run away and jilt you because I’ve found out you’re a werewolf.’ She pushed Helen’s arm away and ran.
‘And I’m going to bite you and werewolf you.’
Suzanne screamed, and ran away past the manse and over the bridge and along by the playground wall. Helen didn’t run after her though. She just walked. She always wanted the time before school to last forever because she didn’t want this time to come, when she almost had to go into the playground. When she was at home she always thought, There’s the whole of breakfast and brushing teeth and the walk to go, and when she was on Worm Hill she always thought, There’s the whole road to the crossroads and past the kirkyard to go, and when she was at the kirk she always thought, There’s past the manse and over the bridge and along the wall to go, but here was where there was hardly any road left to go at all and she had to keep walking and make the road between get less and less until there was none and she was there.
But maybe he wouldn’t be there. Maybe he’d be off.
But then he couldn’t eat the seeds.
He was at the gates. He was wearing grey shorts and a navy blue jersey. When she was little, Helen had thought he was called Robin because he looked like one. His head was big and round and his legs were thin. His hair looked like it would be soft if you touched it, like feathers. When he was angry his face went red. But robins were sweet, and she was glad the reason he was called Robin wasn’t really because he was like one. He was called Robin just because it was a boy’s name like John.
He was standing at the gates with Suzanne. She was whispering and he was doing his cough. Cough-cough cough. Helen tried to walk past but he stood in front of her. She looked past him to see if she could see Hector, but she couldn’t. Hector was always late.
She reached behind to touch her schoolbag.
He stepped forwards.
She stepped back.
She tried to go to the side to get past but he went to the side too. She went to the other side, right against one of the big stone pillars, but so did he, and she had to squeeze back against the hard stone, all cold through her cardigan and her pinafore dress. He had a little bit of yellow crust in the edge of one of his eyes. He smelt of toast.
People were staring.
Helen looked down at the ground.
Robin grabbed her arm and his nails dug in through the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘Did you have a nice time at the shops on Saturday? Did you have a nice time when you peed your pants in Crawford’s?’
‘I didn’t pee my pants.’
‘You did so,’ said Suzanne.
‘Did they have to throw away all the bread and cakes cos Smellie Nellie had been and peed on them?’ He dug his nails in harder.
Helen’s lip and the bit of her chin under it had gone funny but she didn’t cry.
‘No.’
‘They did,’ said Suzanne. ‘They had to put up a sign saying “Closed Cos of Pee”.’
Suzanne had to say those things. If she didn’t Robin might hurt her, and she was just little. Sometimes she got wheezy. If Suzanne was wearing a cardigan, Auntie Ina said Helen had to always check that the buttons were done right up to the top so her chestie didn’t get cold.
Robin let go Helen’s arm. ‘See this fist?’ He held it in front of her, white and knobbly with a jaggedy thumb nail. ‘If you tell a lie again, this fist is going to hit you right in the nose.
’
If that fist did hit her in the nose, what would happen? Would it bleed? Norrie’s nose had bled yesterday when he’d fallen over, and there had been blood dripping out of it and he’d cried.
‘Did you pee your pants in Crawford’s, Smellie?’
Helen looked at the fist.
‘Yes,’ she said.
But she hadn’t.
Cough-cough cough. ‘Did you pee your pants just now?’
She didn’t say anything. She hadn’t peed her pants.
‘Did you?’
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Eeeeeuuch!’ shouted Robin.
Suzanne ran away across the playground and Robin ran after her.
‘Helen Clack peed her paaaa-aants!’ he shouted. ‘She stiiiiiinks!’
Robin and Suzanne ran right round the edge of the playground and past the sycamore tree where Norrie and his brother were hitting each other with bits of branch.
‘Helen peed her pants!’ Suzanne shouted at them.
They stopped hitting each other and turned to look.
Robin and Suzanne came running back to the pillar where Helen was standing. Suzanne jumped up and down and Robin shouted, ‘Pee danger zone!’ He ran up to Katie Walker and Shona Morrison and shouted, ‘Get back, get back, pee danger zone!’ and pushed Katie hard so she nearly fell over.
Everyone was looking at Helen.
Jennifer Gordon shouted: ‘Smellie Nellie!’
‘Bubbly baby!’ shouted Robin.
Helen wanted to run away back out of the gates so no one could see her crying, but she couldn’t. She had to stay or she would get in trouble, and Mummy and Daddy would say she mustn’t ever go off on her own like that, and why had she? And she wouldn’t be able to tell them why, because Robin said if she ever told, he was going to get his dad to ask God to kill her mum and dad.
She looked down at the ground and sniffed up the wet.
She wished Hector would come.
‘Bubbly bubbly baaaaby,’ said Jennifer.
The bell went.
Helen wiped her hands over her eyes and her nose. She had forgotten her hanky. She sniffed and sniffed and Norrie came and said, ‘Are you all right Helen?’ and she said, ‘Yes,’ and when he ran away to the door she wiped her hands on her pinafore dress.