‘No you didn’t! Alfie died. You know he died. You’ve always known. But we had to pretend he was alive for your sake, because you couldn’t face the truth!’ She approached the head of the bed and bore down upon her mother, implacable. ‘I want to know if the truth you couldn’t face was really about me.’
Rae began to whimper. ‘Hattie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please - go and fetch Vivien. You’re frightening me! I insist that you get Vivien!’
‘Not until you’ve answered my questions about the baby.’
‘The baby?’
‘Yes. Did they tell you it was me? My fault the baby died?’
‘No one needed to tell me. I knew it was you. Who else would have left toys lying around? Frances was fifteen. I knew immediately it was you. But I never said anything. I never accused you! You were only six. You couldn’t possibly have understood.’
Hattie put a hand to her temple and rubbed, as if her head was hurting. ‘I remember you screaming at me… Screaming and screaming. I stood at the top of the stairs with my hands over my ears… Then Viv took me away to my room. She said you had to go to hospital. That Daddy was going with you… I remember looking out of my bedroom window and seeing an ambulance drive up… and men carrying you out on a stretcher.’
‘You remember all that? But you’ve never talked about it. Ever.’
‘I thought you’d died! I thought you’d burst with anger! I was so frightened.’
‘Oh, my dear - I didn’t realise! I wasn’t thinking of you, I was only thinking about myself. And the baby.’
‘What did I do? Tell me.’
‘You don’t remember that?’
‘No. I remember being in here. And I knew I shouldn’t have been. Daddy said I wasn’t allowed in here until Alfie was stronger.’ Hattie looked round the room as if she could see the scene she was describing. ‘There were no lights on and it was getting dark… The cot was over there.’ She pointed to the empty corner of the room by the window. ‘I don’t know where you were. You weren’t in here. I was alone… With Alfie.’
‘But Hattie, you’re getting confused—’
‘No, I remember all this very clearly. I stood beside the cot, watching Alfie. He didn’t wake up, he just lay there, quite still. I remember that I… I hated him. That I wanted him to go away. Back to the hospital… I remember that I wanted to hurt him… So I put my hand through the bars of the cot and I poked him. I poked him as hard as I could. But he didn’t move.’
‘Hattie—’
‘Then I started to drop things into the cot. My teddy. My shoes. The jug of water from the bedside table… I remember throwing things into the cot, trying to bury Alfie. I think he was crying, but it might have been me, I don’t remember. One of us must have been crying, because Daddy came rushing into the room and picked me up. He took me away, out of the room. He wasn’t angry with me, he was just frightened, I think. Or upset. I couldn’t tell. He put me to bed. He sat with me and held my hand and said everything would be all right, he would sort everything out.’ Hattie’s expression changed as another memory came to her. ‘He called it a mess. He said he would “sort this mess out”.’
‘And he did,’ Rae said softly. ‘Freddie sorted it all out. At least, he thought he did.’ A calm had settled on Rae and she reached for her daughter’s hand. As Hattie let her take it, she noticed Rae’s agitation was gone. Her eyes were focused now, clear, but infinitely sad. When she finally spoke her voice was quite steady. ‘The next day, Alfie was gone, wasn’t he?… Do you remember that?’
‘Yes. Daddy told me Alfie had been taken to hospital. He’d stopped breathing. Daddy said Alfie’s lungs had never been strong and they weren’t working properly. Then a few days later he told me Alfie had died and gone to Heaven… None of that was true, was it?’
‘No, it wasn’t.’
‘But I believed him. I believed him until I heard my sisters talking in the garden. They were talking about what really happened. Then I realised… I killed him, didn’t I?’
‘No!’ Rae clutched at Hattie’s hand. ‘You didn’t! Dear God, forgive me—’
‘I killed my baby brother while he lay in his cot. I suffocated him. Or I crushed his skull by dropping things on him. Which was it? I want to know what I did, Ma! I want to know just how evil I am. You’ve all protected me long enough. I killed a baby. I drove you mad with grief. I broke up your marriage. And I drove my father away. No wonder you hated me!’
‘Hattie, stop! I can’t bear it! Stop this at once!’ Rae threw back the bedclothes and struggled out of bed. Staggering as she made her way across the room, she lurched towards an armchair and clung to it until she regained her balance. Turning her head, she addressed Hattie over her shoulder, gasping, her words coming in short bursts. ‘Stay there. You hear me? You’re not to move. I have to fetch something. Something you must see.’
Rae tottered across the floor, opened the door to a dressing room and entered. Hattie heard a groan and the sound of something being dragged across the carpet, then the sharp click of two metal catches. There was a long exhalation from Rae, followed by silence.
Panic overwhelmed Hattie and she ran to the bedroom door. She’d grasped the handle and was pulling the door open when Rae’s voice - strange, high, unrecognisable - said, ‘Hattie, don’t go… I have something to show you.’ Hattie froze in the doorway, her back towards her mother.
‘Look… Please look, Hattie.’
She turned. By the dim light of the bedside lamp, Hattie saw her mother’s bent figure, standing at the end of the bed. She was cradling a baby wrapped in a shawl.
Gwen
I stared at Viv - open-mouthed, for all I know - as I struggled to take in what she’d said. After an eternity, Marek got up from the kitchen table and made a pot of tea. The rattle of spoons and the clink of crockery sounded deafening to me. He set mugs in front of each of us and sat down again. I was sitting beside Viv now and studied her profile. It was such a strong face - devoid of beauty, but there was integrity there, a fundamental honesty. This was a plain-dealing woman, surely someone you could trust. Yet she was party to a lifetime of lies, party to the destruction of her sister’s mind, nearly her life.
I thought of Hattie asleep in her room and wondered if I should go up and check on her, but at that moment, Viv started to speak again.
‘If you’re to understand what happened - what we did and why we did it - I have to go back a long way. A very long way. Back to Rae’s childhood… She was an unwanted child. My grandfather thought little of anything other than his own status and material possessions. Children fell into the latter category. He was a successful businessman and he wanted a son to train up as his successor. But he got Rae, an only child. She was christened Rachael, but she was always known as Rae. She believed that was because her father liked to imagine her as the son she should have been… You might think that as Rae herself had suffered from this dreadful sexual discrimination, she’d be the last person to perpetrate it herself.’ Viv looked up at Marek with a faint smile. ‘But it doesn’t work like that, does it?’
Marek shook his head.
‘Rae desperately wanted a son. As a young married woman she thought it was her last chance to redeem herself in her father’s eyes. If she presented him with a grandson, she would be forgiven, her life would somehow be validated - not just in her father’s eyes, but in her own. You have to remember that in those days - I was born in 1957 - equality of the sexes was a new and not very popular idea. It was still very much a man’s world. The birth of a son was something to boast about and the more Rae produced daughters - four in a row - the more she felt the pressure to produce a son. It was the thing she’d always wanted - wanted to be and wanted to have. And it was the thing she believed she never would have. Until she fell pregnant with Alfie.’
‘So there was a baby!’
Viv turned to me, her expression grave. ‘It depends on your point of view. There was a baby, for Rae. But legally, Alfie never exist
ed.’
‘I don’t understand—’
‘Gwen,’ Marek said, very softly. I turned to look at him but his gaze was fixed on Viv. ‘Go on.’
‘Rae and Freddie were thrilled about the pregnancy. Hattie had been yet another disappointment - Rae made no bones about that - and she was forty-three. This was her last chance and she knew it. She had the best medical care and she charmed - possibly even bribed - an obstetrician to tell her the sex of the baby. It was a boy. Well, you can imagine… Rae worked herself up into a frenzy of anticipation. She kitted out the nursery as soon as she found out. She bought blue baby clothes. She decided on the name Alfred, after Freddie, and the baby was known as “Alfie” when it was just a bump. Rae was so proud of this pregnancy. She put on maternity clothes long before she needed to. I simply don’t know how to convey to you how much this baby meant to her. Well, perhaps I don’t really need to try. I just have to tell you that when she lost the baby, she lost her mind.’
My voice was a whisper. ‘She miscarried?’
‘Yes. At twenty-three weeks. That’s too early to qualify as a stillbirth. Legally, Alfred Donovan never existed. But Rae gave birth to a perfect baby boy, too immature to survive.’
‘If he was perfect, why did she miscarry?’ I asked.
‘That was the most tragic part… Rae fell downstairs, here at Creake Hall. She fell down the hall staircase, from the landing to the stone flags below. She fell because she didn’t see there was a toy on the stairs - a little wooden horse on wheels that Hattie was forever dragging around behind her. I imagine Rae didn’t see it because she was dressed in her billowing maternity wear, like a galleon in full sail. She wouldn’t have been looking down at her feet. She must have trodden on Hattie’s little horse, slipped and then fell. She was on her own when it happened, but she screamed the place down and Freddie and I came running. I think Hattie was there too - standing at the top of the stairs, looking on. But I don’t think she knew she’d caused the accident. None of us knew then. And when we’d worked it out, no one said anything to her. She was only six. It was just an accident. A tragic accident…
‘Rae stayed in hospital for a week. We didn’t dare to put the cot or baby things away. I realise now we should have done that - it might have helped - but I was twenty-two. All this was outside my experience. Freddie didn’t know what to do either. He was grief-stricken, naturally. He was waiting for a lead from Rae, or from a doctor. He didn’t tell Hattie that Rae had lost the baby or why, because he didn’t want her to feel responsible. He told her Rae had had to go to hospital because the baby was coming early. His idea was that we would break the news to Hattie gently, when the time was right. She was his only child and he was very fond of her. It really didn’t seem such a bad idea at the time. She’d been terribly upset by what had happened. She’d thought Rae was going to die, so we were trying to reassure her. Protect her, in fact. But when Rae came home she talked about Alfie as if he’d survived, as if he was in the nursery, asleep! She talked like that in front of Hattie, so there was no way we could tell her that Rae had lost the baby. The poor child would have been so confused. We fudged it by saying Alfie wasn’t well and had to be protected from germs, so Hattie couldn’t see him. Then, when I could finally face going into the nursery - Freddie asked me to put away the baby’s things - we discovered that Rae had found an old doll…‘ Viv faltered and took a sip of her tea. ‘I think it was one of Fanny’s. One of those squishy baby dolls. Quite realistic, actually. Rae had dressed it up in the blue baby clothes and put it in the cot. She’d tucked sheets and blankets around it and placed toys at the end of the cot. It was… heartbreaking.
‘I told Freddie and he confronted Rae, but it was useless. She was living in a world of her own where Alfie hadn’t died. The proof was lying in the cot in the nursery… We didn’t know what to do. Nor did the doctors. We all agreed she shouldn’t be forced to confront the reality of her situation. She wasn’t a well woman, mentally or physically, and her GP thought this could be a natural process, a form of grieving. His policy was to wait and see, give Rae time to come to terms with her loss…
‘So that’s what we did. Freddie moved the cot into Rae’s bedroom so Hattie wouldn’t see it and she was forbidden to visit him.’ Viv gulped down her tea, which must have been cold by now. ‘You know, I think that was the beginning of Hattie being shut out, sidelined by everyone. She was the only one - apart from Rae - who didn’t know the truth and she was the only one who wasn’t preoccupied with Rae and her mental infirmity. We forgot about Hattie and left her pretty much to her own devices. I can see that now. I should have taken better care of her and let Freddie look after Rae. But it was very hard for me. My mother had gone mad! I was frightened too. And there was no one for me to turn to. No one at all. Freddie wasn’t my father and he wasn’t exactly a tower of strength, kind though he was. My sisters looked to me for guidance. Everyone did.’
‘It was a lot for a young woman of twenty-two to deal with,’ Marek said.
‘Yes, it was. And I didn’t make a very good job of it.’
Marek shook his head. ‘You acted for the best, Viv. With compassion. For Rae. Freddie. Hattie. Everyone. You just couldn’t see the big picture. Not until it was too late.’
She looked at him and smiled gratefully. ‘That’s not much consolation when you discover your little sister has spent her whole life believing she’s a murderer.’
‘But why does Hattie think that?’ I asked.
Viv sighed and appeared to brace herself. Staring down into her empty mug, she said, ‘Hattie must have overheard a conversation I had with my sisters… The family wasn’t coping with the pretend baby. Rae was, but we weren’t. And I knew it was only a matter of time before Hattie found out there was no baby, just this pathetic doll. There was no sign of Rae snapping out of it, as the doctors had hoped. On the contrary, Alfie seemed to become more and more real to her. She’d give us progress reports on feeding and broken nights! Things came to a head when we found Hattie alone in Rae’s bedroom. Freddie had heard her crying and he’d gone in and found her hurling things into the cot, crying and shouting at the doll. She was hysterical. That’s when Freddie decided to put a stop to it. He had to choose between his daughter and his poor mad wife. And he chose Hattie… He confronted Rae with the truth. I wasn’t there but I heard the fallout from several rooms away. It was pitiful… The cot was removed. The baby clothes and toys were put away. He allowed Rae to keep the doll on condition that no one ever saw it. I don’t know what she did with it. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she still has it somewhere.
‘Freddie told Hattie that her brother had been rushed into hospital, that he was very ill and might not recover. After a few days Freddie broke the news to her that Alfie had died. She appeared to accept this. Accepted it very readily, in fact. I think I see why now… If she’d actually heard what was said in the garden… And if she’d only heard some of it… Yes, I can see now how Hattie came to think she’d killed Alfie… She must have thought we were protecting her, that the story about Alfie dying in hospital was just a cover-up.’
‘What exactly did she hear, Viv? Can you remember?’
She turned her head to look at me. ‘Oh, yes. I can hardly bring myself to tell you, it’s so appalling… Hattie must have overheard us plotting. Plotting shock tactics, out of sheer desperation!’ Viv was struggling now to control her voice and, as if reading their mistress’ mind, the two terriers in front of the Aga raised their heads and looked up at her. One of them let out a high-pitched whine and trotted over to Viv, who bent down and fondled his ears absently. ‘Hattie must have heard us planning to use her as a way of making Rae accept Alfie was dead. If Hattie believes she murdered Alfie, then she can’t possibly have heard everything! But she must have heard enough to—’
Viv broke off, covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
‘We could say Hattie smothered him,’ said Frances. ‘Threw him out the window in one of her awful tempers.
’
‘It wouldn’t work. Rae would never swallow it.’
‘She might. After all, she swallowed the idea that the baby exists!’
Deborah broke a long silence. ‘Who’ll tell Ma?’
‘I will.’
Vivien and Deborah stared at Frances. ‘What will you say?’
‘I’ll tell her I saw Hattie do it. I’ll tell Ma I know what happened… I know how the baby died.’
‘Poor thing.’
‘The baby?’
‘No, Hattie.’
‘Oh, Deb, don’t be ridiculous! Hattie need never know I’ve told Ma! None of us will ever mention it.’
‘But Rae will never forgive her,’ Deborah persisted.
‘Rae’s never forgiven her for being born. I can’t really see this makes much difference,’ said Frances.
‘Poor Hattie…’
‘Oh, do shut up, Deb! Ma’s sanity is at stake here! She must face up to the truth. She has to accept that the baby is dead! For all our sakes.’
‘I know you’re right. It just seems so harsh… I mean, you’re actually going to tell her Hattie killed her brother?’
‘Yes. But she didn’t know what she was doing. It was just a game, a child’s game that got out of hand. Hattie wasn’t really to blame. A six year-old can’t be held responsible for murder.’
‘Not in the eyes of the law perhaps,’ Vivien said. ‘But Ma might not see it like that.’
‘Yes she will,’ Frances said firmly. ‘Once she’s got over the shock. Ma will see reason in the end. But she has to be told. We can’t put up with this charade any longer. It’s driving us all crazy.’
‘Poor Hattie,’ said Deborah and started to weep.
‘No, we can’t do that,’ said Viv putting an arm round Deborah’s shoulders. ‘It would be wicked! Worse than that, it would be criminal. I’m going to talk to Freddie. I’ll choose my moment… He’s got to make Ma see reason. And if he won’t, then I will. I’ll tell her the baby’s dead. That he never lived. And that this… this wretched fantasy is over.’
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