The House of Women

by Alison Taylor

  ‘How did she come to find out?’

  ‘She needed her birth certificate to get into college. Such a little thing, and such a cataclysm afterwards! I knew it would be, and I tried and tried to put off the evil day, but the college wouldn’t let her start the course without the certificate, and now she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s no idea who she is any longer, so she can’t move forward, and she can’t go back. I’m so afraid for her!’

  ‘And are you afraid of her?’ he asked.

  ‘You asked me that before,’ Edith said, her voice weary, ‘and I can’t put my hand on my heart and give you an answer.’ She gulped coffee, then reached for a cigarette, her hands trembling wildly. ‘We can’t know the truth about our ancestry because we don’t have personal memories to retrieve, so we rely on what people tell us. We trust what we’re told, and make up ourselves and our identity from it, and God alone can say what it does to a person to find out the whole self is a fiction.’

  ‘Some people are more than happy to create their own fiction,’ McKenna pointed out.

  ‘Yes, but they know the difference, don’t they?’ she said irritably. ‘Even if they get to the stage of believing their own lies. I created the lies and made Mina live them.’

  ‘Was it your idea? What did Professor Williams think? And your husband? And Ned?’

  ‘Iolo only cared about his own reputation, and my husband said I must lie in the dirty bed I’d made for myself.’ She drained the coffee. ‘No, he wasn’t heartless. I think he was too hurt to realize what he was doing.’

  ‘And Ned?’

  She smiled. ‘But for Iolo and my foolishness, Ned and I might have been friends. He was an honest man, but his sort of decency can be rather merciless. He called me all kinds of a fool for covering up, and said I must tell the truth. “Tell the truth and shame the devil,” he said, and because I wouldn’t, or couldn’t, it created a rift. He said my world was impinging on his, and alienating us when we should be brought together.’

  ‘Perhaps he had Gertrude in mind.’

  ‘But she had no opportunity to create another reality, did she? And Gladys didn’t share Ned’s view. She said telling the truth would upset the balances and traditions and received wisdoms, because in the end, Mina would be judged on her own merits and by her own actions, as we all are.’

  ‘And that’s what you fear, isn’t it?’

  She put her cigarette in the ashtray, and wrapped her arms around her body, watching the curling smoke. ‘I’ll never be free of drugs, you know. They’ll control me to the day I die, and be in my thoughts day and night, threatening me with what they might have done that I’ve yet to see, like a time bomb in my head.’ Shifting in her seat, she retrieved the cigarette. ‘Annie’s been so scared by what a so-called “good” drug did to me that she won’t even take an aspirin. Now she’s seen Ned killed by another “good” drug, while I’m turning back into myself with the help of a “bad” one. Or, at least, I’m turning into what I can remember about being myself.’

  ‘You won’t be as you were,’ he said. ‘You’ll have grown and changed despite yourself.’

  ‘I sincerely hope so, but how will I have changed? Will the drugs eventually make me a monster? And what have they done to my children?’ She knocked ash from the cigarette. ‘That’s why I fear for Mina, and for Phoebe too, if I’m honest, because those good little pills which let women fornicate to their heart’s content might have poisoned the cells from which they grew.’

  ‘How? What could they have done?’

  ‘They could have done anything or nothing, but no-one will put our minds to rest. Nobody conceded that tranquillizers can damage unborn children, or told us about the stockpiled poison gas in the mountains, or admitted the power stations were leaking until so much more poison drifted over from Chernobyl that it couldn’t be hidden.’

  ‘But millions of women take oral contraceptives.’

  ‘And does that prove they’re safe?’ She brushed a speck of ash from the table, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘Sometimes, I look at youngsters like Mina, and all I see are empty eyes and strange empty minds, as if they’re not quite human. Jason’s one of them, and you must have seen plenty. They all resemble each other, and I imagine the prisons and children’s homes are full of them. It’s quite terrifying.’

  ‘The rotten fruit of a poisoned womb?’

  ‘If you like. Mina’s not normal, however much it hurts me to say so, and she never was. She was like a wild animal when she was little. She didn’t seem to learn, or understand cause and effect, or have any feelings for others, and she got worse as she grew older. I can’t find any moral sense in her at all.’

  ‘That’s a terrible judgement on her.’ McKenna was shocked to the core.

  ‘It’s an honest one.’ She smiled grimly. ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil, eh?’ Drumming her fingers on the table, she added: ‘And she doesn’t look quite right. She looks as if something went amiss in the making, and it’s not just her ears, as Phoebe would have you believe, it’s everything about her. She suffers all kinds of strange allergies, and rashes, and stomach upsets, and red eyes, but we can never pin point this or that food or drink or whatever. Her whole system goes haywire every so often, and Solange doesn’t help. She’s made her utterly neurotic with her so-called “diet advice”.’ Viciously, she ground out the cigarette. ‘I hope to God she’s not gone on the Pill for that Jason. He’s the last person worth that kind of risk.’

  ‘You can’t have the same fears about Phoebe.’

  ‘Can’t I? She’s even less normal than Mina.’

  ‘She hardly lacks moral sense.’

  ‘She has so much of everything it almost overflows, while Mina hasn’t enough.’ She rose, dropping dirty crockery in the sink and sending more bubbles adrift. ‘I suppose they balance each other in a way, but even Phoebe isn’t complete.’ She pulled on the rubber gloves, staring out of the window. ‘Her back view is the most pathetic sight on earth, and it’s not because of the puppy fat.’ She began to wash the crockery. ‘I must sense the heartache she’ll know sooner or later.’

  ‘Why should she?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t she? Isn’t your life a litter of lost dreams and broken promises? What we can have depends on how the world sees us, but what we long for and dream about depends on how we see ourselves.’ She picked up a tea-towel printed with one black Scottie dog, and one white. ‘Phoebe will never be loved because she’s too complex and too knowing, and she lives in a self-created world. She’ll frighten people, especially when she tries to drag them into her world, and she won’t understand why they can’t make the leap of faith she wants of them.’

  ‘And Mina?’

  ‘I destroyed what little self she had by telling her about Iolo. She’s got nothing now, so she’ll take whatever comes her way and do whatever takes her fancy, and not know until later whether it might be good for her.’

  ‘Are you going to call Professor Williams? It’s getting rather late.’

  She stacked the clean mugs in the cupboard, rinsed the cafetiere, put the spoons in a drawer, and faced him, the tea-towel over her arm. ‘Have we discussed what you came for, or is there something else? I feel almost eviscerated.’

  He flinched as the impact of her words reached him.

  ‘I’m not blaming you,’ she added. ‘I’ve been so quiet for so long it’s rather like a dam burst now I’ve started talking.’

  ‘Why did you neglect to admit you knew of Ned’s long time friendship with Professor Williams?’

  ‘What?’ About to wipe the table with the dishcloth, she stopped. ‘What friendship?’

  ‘They were at university together. Professor Williams is the “Eddie” I spoke about earlier.’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ Edith said, vigorously wiping the table. ‘You must be mistaken. They hardly knew each other, and what they did know, neither of them seemed to like over much.’

  ‘I’m not mistaken, Mrs Harris. Ned and Iolo wer
e close friends, for a while at least.’

  ‘Who says so?’ she asked, rinsing the dishcloth. ‘Is that what Margaret told you?’

  ‘He’s been identified by someone else.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘A prominent scholar who was at university with him, and who knew both of them,’ McKenna replied. ‘And that might explain why Ned collected so much paper about the professor.’

  ‘Ned collected paper, full stop,’ Edith commented, bending down to examine the contents of her refrigerator. ‘I honestly think you must be wrong. I’ve seen them together countless times, and there was never a hint they had more than a passing acquaintance, and that through me.’ She straightened up, rubbing the small of her back. ‘You must be wrong. One of us would have noticed something!’

  ‘Not if Ned and Iolo made a pact never to disclose their friendship.’

  ‘And why should they do that?’

  ‘I hope Professor Williams will be able to tell me.’

  *

  Phoebe sat astride the garden wall, scuffing dust with her sandals. ‘Have you finished grilling Mama?’ she called, as McKenna emerged through the front door. ‘Can I come back in?’ She swung off the wall and walked to the gate, barring his way. ‘What on earth took you so long? It’s almost dusk.’

  ‘Don’t exaggerate,’ he chided. ‘The sun hasn’t even set. Anyway, I thought you’d gone to see George.’

  ‘He wasn’t in. Your car radio’s been squawking fit to bust. Will you get into trouble for not answering?’

  ‘They’d telephone if I was needed.’

  ‘The helicopter’s been sent to the demo at Welsh Water.’ Standing in his shadow as he unlocked the car, she added: ‘I couldn’t help listening. You don’t mind, do you? I saw it fly over about half an hour ago, and it hasn’t come back yet.’

  ‘It might go another way.’ Clipping on the seat belt, he put the keys in the ignition. ‘I must go, Phoebe.’

  ‘Will you be coming again?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘Is Mama OK? She’s not upset, is she?’

  ‘She’s fine.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ She turned, and walked away, closing the gate behind her. He watched as she trudged up the drive and into the house, Edith’s words in his mind, then drove to the crest of the hill to turn the car, wondering if the humped and twisted shadow pursuing the girl was the shape of her future.

  7

  Slumped in an office chair, his uniform shirt in filthy tatters, Dewi clutched an ice pack to his head.

  ‘What happened?’ McKenna demanded, looming over him. ‘What’s wrong with your head?’

  ‘He got into a fight at the demo,’ Rowlands offered. ‘We’ve arrested enough for a special night court.’

  ‘Yeah, and I’ll have to hang around to give evidence,’ Dewi said. ‘And most of them only went to make a noise and get their silly faces on telly. This bunch of bloody hippies was squatting in front of the building, and when the helicopter came over, they stood up, waving spliffs in the air, and yelling: “You think you’re high?”, and giggling, like they do.’

  ‘So who hit you?’ McKenna asked.

  ‘I didn’t see properly, sir. It was a bit of a bear garden.’

  ‘That’s not what you told me, is it?’ Rowlands countered. ‘You said somebody chucked a stone at one of the police dogs, so you chucked a stone back, and somebody else lobbed a missile at you in return.’

  ‘I still didn’t see who it was!’ Dewi snapped.

  ‘Lucky for you they weren’t close enough to get your number,’ Rowlands said. ‘Let’s hope you don’t turn up on someone’s video, demonstrating police brutality.’

  ‘Was the dog hurt?’

  ‘It dodged, sir.’

  ‘Have you been to the hospital for a check-up?’

  ‘No, sir. I don’t need to.’

  ‘So what’s under the ice pack?’

  ‘A bit of a lump, and a graze.’

  McKenna sighed. ‘Get to Casualty now, and don’t come back without something on paper to say you were injured. And don’t argue,’ he added, as Dewi’s mouth opened. ‘Far better for you to be at the hospital instead of the night court. And don’t bother changing.’

  When Dewi was out of earshot, Rowlands said: ‘Does he often compromise us?’

  ‘Animals are higher than most people on his scale of values. I’d have been hard pressed not to do the same myself, regardless of the fact that police dogs and police horses are well-armoured, and often better trained than a lot of their human counterparts.’ Hanging his jacket on the back of the chair, McKenna added: ‘Any news about Janet?’

  ‘She’s stopped bleeding, but she’s still critical, and her father’s apparently blaming us, because we didn’t insist on her seeing a doctor.’

  ‘She might have been less inclined towards evasion and denial if his portentous sermonising hadn’t blighted her common sense. And if Mrs Evans didn’t walk in fear of her husband, she might have noticed when Janet most needed her.’

  ‘On the subject of mothers and daughters, we’d better see Annie. The Shrewsbury car is the genuine article, so she could be driving round in another cut and shut, or a revamped write-off from an accident.’

  ‘She wasn’t in when I left. Neither was Mina.’

  ‘Doesn’t she go clubbing with loverboy every night?’

  ‘No-one’s quite sure what she does or what she might do, which is why Edith’s frightened.’

  ‘The worst she’s likely to do is take the same road as Janet,’ Rowlands said.

  ‘Edith wouldn’t agree with you.’ He began to pace the office, weaving around the heaps of detritus bestrewing the floor.

  ‘Why not? What do you and she know that I don’t?’

  ‘Edith lost her heart and her sense to Iolo, many moons ago, and she’s looked on the consequences every day since. And even if the worst Mina does is turn out like her father, that’ll be worry enough for everyone.’

  8

  As the sun set, the little breeze off the sea had taken a chill upon itself from the dark water. Whispering through the trees surrounding Iolo Williams’s house, it set the leaves chattering, and as McKenna climbed from the car, a single leaf drifted to the ground, then, lifted again by the breeze, began to rattle against the wall.

  ‘Another few weeks and we’ll see ground frost of a night,’ Rowlands commented. ‘I hope I get time to sort out my garden before the weather turns.’

  ‘My little patch almost looks after itself.’

  ‘Iolo’s got a nice garden, hasn’t he?’ Elbows on the wall, Rowlands surveyed the lawns and shrubbery and fine old trees. ‘Those holly bushes are a century old if they’re a day. He must have a gardener, because I can’t see him keeping this much land in order, and even less can I see Solange risking her nails with a bit of toil.’

  ‘Did you check their cars?’ McKenna asked, pushing open the gate.

  ‘Iolo’s is kosher, as you’d expect. It’s too conspicuous for a double-up. Solange doesn’t drive, so she hasn’t got a car.’

  ‘Does she not? I’m surprised. Has she lost her licence?’

  ‘There’s no record of her ever having one.’ Scuffing along the wide path towards the front door, Rowlands kicked another tiny brown leaf, and McKenna wondered if in essence there were any difference between the rearrangements wrought by the breeze and the man. ‘Not as Solange Williams, that is, although she could be registered under her maiden name. I didn’t think to check.’

  ‘We’ll ask Iolo,’ McKenna decided, ringing the doorbell. Dull light behind dirty glass touched the crowns of the bushes under the window, then a shadow obliterated the light as Williams peered out, a scowl distorting his face.

  ‘Did you make Edith cancel my dinner?’ he demanded, pulling open the door. The foul air of his house despoiled the summer night. ‘You did, didn’t you? No wonder she sounded strange on the phone! You’ve no right to interfere in people’s lives like this!’ The hectoring to
ne made his voice shrill.

  ‘I told Mrs Harris I intended to visit,’ McKenna said. ‘May we come in?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘To talk, Professor Williams. I think it’s about time, don’t you?’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to say to you!’ he snapped. ‘And I’m quite sure you won’t say anything I want to hear!’ He edged the door closed.

  McKenna put out his hand. ‘Let me add that you don’t have a choice in the matter.’

  ‘He told you, didn’t he?’ he said, his voice rasping. ‘That bloody jungle bunny told you! Oh, I’ll bet he enjoyed that! Getting his own back with the help of that crazy old man!’ He let go of the door, and lunged forward, teeth almost bared, and a froth of spittle at the sides of his mouth. ‘Well, I won’t have it! D’you hear me? I won’t have that bloody nigger ruining my life! And I want my solicitor!’ he shouted. ‘I want him now!’ Without warning, he leapt back into the hall, and slammed the door.

  McKenna leaned on the doorbell, hearing it shriek through the house in counterpoint to Williams’s voice screaming down a telephone. Then there was a clatter, and the voice fell silent, leaving the bell to shriek alone. He thumped on the door, and shouted to the man inside.

  ‘You’re wasting your breath,’ Rowlands said. ‘And your energy. Let him stew. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do a runner round the back.’

  McKenna sat on the doorstep, shivering when the breeze touched his flesh, then another large, luxurious car swished to a halt in the road, heavy wheels crunching tarmac, and the city’s most expensive solicitor made his way up the path. ‘What in God’s name are you up to?’ he demanded. ‘Professor Williams is terrified.’