by Sonia Tilson
Gillian kept silent.
Janet raised desperate, reddened eyes. “It must be you. Who else would say such things?”
Quite a lot of people actually now that the matter’s been opened up. Gillian saw again the appalled faces in the Hare and Hounds, and the waiter, standing behind Angus, wringing his napkin like the neck of a chicken. But all that was out of her hands now. Apart from making a statement to the police, which she could do in Swansea, she had done what she had to do. Suddenly aware of the time, she looked at her watch. If she were to catch the return bus, she should leave soon.
With Sally and the dog running about in the strong fresh wind, Gillian and Rhiannon walked in front of the house. Wiping her eyes, Rhiannon tucked away Gillian’s home address and phone number and hugged her so hard that Gillian felt a rib bend before they kissed each other goodbye.
As Gillian reached the first turn in the drive, Sally cried out that the monkey wanted to give her a goodbye kiss too and ran holding out her toy, a wide, confident smile on her face, clearly not a child to whom anything untoward had yet happened. Gillian kissed the monkey, and Sally too, who scrambled back to wave with her mother from underneath the monkey puzzle tree.
That tree was not what it had been, Gillian saw as she waved back. Lower limbs had been lopped off, the remaining branches had lost their manic thrust, and the sparse, browning needles were entirely missing from the top. This wind could blow it down.
Despite the shock and grief behind her, she looked up at the blue sky with an open face as she turned out of the driveway and onto the road. It was over. She had felled the giant. Her raincoat billowing behind her, she walked away from Maenordy and down to the crossroads to begin her journey home.
Acknowledgements
My heartfelt thanks go to my husband, Alistair, and my sons, Edward and David, as well as to my friends for their help and support throughout this whole process. I am grateful also to Ivan E. Coyote, whose upbeat writing course got me started; to the remarkable Mary Borsky and the members of her workshop, whose generous encouragement and feedback kept me going; and above all, to John Metcalf, my editor, who pushed me further than I knew I could go. Thanks also to all at Biblioasis, especially Tara Murpy, for their work in bringing the book to fruition.
PHOTO BY SILVIA ZANON
Sonia Tilson was born in Swansea, South Wales, and educated at Monmouth School for Girls and the University of Wales at Swansea. In 1964 she came to Canada where she has taught English at various levels, mostly in Ottawa. The Monkey Puzzle Tree is her first book.