A Dish of Stones

by Valentina Hepburn

  Leaving the peaceful baby to her slumbers she went upstairs to look for her. She knocked on her sister’s old bedroom door then opened it, looked around the room and closed the door again. The next room was Angie’s. There was no reason to look in there. It was the last place she would be, so she carried on past and knocked on the bathroom door. “Em’, are you OK?” There was no answer, so she called again. “Emma.”

  “I’m in here,” Emma said, her voice so quiet it was barely audible. Kate hesitated, hardly believing that she was in Angie’s room.

  Angie looked asleep. Her mouth had dropped open and she’d vomited over her pillow. Kate frowned at the pallor of her face and lips; pale, chalky-white tinged with blue. Wrenching her gaze from her mother’s face her eyes went to Emma who was standing by Angie’s bed. She stood bolt upright, petrified on her feet, her eyes wild with shock.

  “What happened? Emma? What the hell have you done?”

  Emma began to back away from her mother’s body. She turned towards the window, burying her face into the curtain, trying to blot out everything in the room. “I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me. She choked on something.” Kate grabbed Emma's arm. “Why didn’t you help her? You know this happens sometimes. Oh, my God, she’s dead. She’s really dead. You’ve let her die and there was no need. I told you I’d look after her. You didn’t even have to see her,” she cried, her eyes so filled with horror Emma thought she would attack her. She hardly dare breathe or move as Kate sobbed, her hands covering her face to block out the dreadful scene.

  The stench of stale sweat and vomit was too much for Kate. She ran into the bathroom where she soaked a flannel in cold water and held it against her burning face, her breath leaving her in short gasps. Pulling the flannel from her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. “Someone has changed it all again,” she said to the girl who stared back at her with grief-stricken eyes. “How are you going to make it right this time?” She went downstairs without looking into Angie’s bedroom.

  The living-room had darkened. The sky was black and a storm threatened. Christina slept soundly. Kate sat in the chair by the window watching the comings and goings of people in the street. Everything outside’s just the same and the world just keeps on turning, she thought. My mum’s lying dead in her bed, a life snuffed out like a spent candle, yet there are no alarm bells ringing or people shouting and screaming. In a few moments of madness Emma allowed Mum to die… and I don’t know what to do.

  A movement at the door caught her eye and she turned her head. Emma stood there, her eyes as black as charcoal, her face a deathly-white mask. Kate turned away from her.

  “Kate,” she whispered, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Kate, please.”

  “Who are your tears for, Emma? Shall I tell you? You’re crying for yourself because you know you could've stopped it from happening. This is irreversible, something I can’t put right.” She drew her knees up to her chin and rested her forehead on them. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” said Emma. Glistening tears brimming like beads in her eyes ran freely down her cheeks and dropped off her chin. “I don’t know why I didn’t help her. She was swearing at me when I got back from the clinic. I went up to her room to give her a piece of my mind. She was shouting at me, screaming out all kinds of horrible things. How I was a waster and no good and never would be. She said she was the unluckiest woman in the world to have two such ungrateful daughters and she hated us both.” She paused, searching for the words to make it right. “I could understand her hating me because I hated her, I admit it. But she couldn’t hate you, Kate. You never do anything she could hate you for. Then she started choking. She was being sick and the noise was terrible. I wanted the noise to stop. I didn’t mean to let her die. I know I said I wished she was dead, but I never thought...I didn’t think it would happen like this. I never intended for it to happen when I went into her bedroom. She sort of had a fit and her body arched up and her mouth went all blue. It was so horrible. Then you came back. I couldn’t ever kill anyone. Please believe me, Kate. I didn’t kill her, did I?”

  “Stop making excuses, Emma. You could have helped her if you'd wanted to. All you had to do was hit her between the shoulder blades. I showed you how, didn’t I, just in case it happened when I wasn’t here? I never thought you despised her enough to let her choke to death. I was sure even you didn’t hate her as much as that.”

  Her mind began its manoeuvres. She couldn’t prevent the side of her that always took responsibility for everything leaping into action. “We have to call a doctor,” she said, her voice a low monotone. Emma shook her head. “Don’t, Kate. Don’t tell anyone.”

  “We can’t just leave her there. We’ll call someone and we’ll take the consequences no matter what they are. Do you see now?” she said firmly. “Every time we do something there's an outcome. It’s called cause and effect. I know you did it at school, but then I don’t s’pose you were listening were you? Every time you do something, good or bad, there's a result.” She paused. “And I know you slept with Stephen Barton to get back at me.”

  “No, it wasn’t that.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, you’ve brought a sweet innocent kid into the world who didn't ask to be born.” She went over to the cot and stroked Christina's cheek. “I have no control over this and I can't put it right. You’ve taken control, Emma. You let her die when you could’ve helped her. No matter how many times she beat me, or however many times she swore at me and shut me under the floorboards I never once wanted her dead. D’you know why?” Emma silently shook her head. “I wanted her to love me. I really did. I thought if she could see I really cared about her and wanted to make things better for her, one day,” she cried, “one day...she might love me back.” She brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. “Now I’ll never know will I? I’ll never know why she hated me and I’ll never know if she could have ever found it in her heart to love me again. You’ve taken it away from me, Emma, my chance to bring us all together and perhaps be happy like we used to be. It wasn’t ever perfect, you were right about that, but we could’ve been a proper family.”

  She walked past Emma, out of the living-room and up the stairs. I’m not going to protect her any more, she thought. She has to take the consequences like I’ve had to. “Emma. I need you to help me. We must clean Mum up and put her in a clean night-dress and change the bed. We’ll do it now.” Emma began to protest. “But, Kate I can’t...”

  “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. You have to do your bit. I can’t lift Mum on my own. You must help me and then I’ll go to the phone-box and call for a doctor.” Emma reluctantly followed Kate up the stairs. She couldn’t get Angie’s expression of death out of her mind. It was an image she would never forget and would live in her memory always, constantly appearing and reappearing throughout her life. For Emma, Angie would never die.

  Chapter 32

  “Jack’ll look after her, Ivy. He dotes on her.”

  “Yes, but losing your mum’s a big thing, Ray. It’s an enormous thing in a girl’s life. I know Angie was awful to her but she was still her mum. Joe should be here to help them through it all. He’ll get a piece of my mind the next time I see him, you mark my words.”

  “Yeah, well. That might be never.”

  “He’d better hope it is.”

  Jack followed Kate into the kitchen. He was worried about her. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles and the paleness of her skin emphasised the shadows even more. He’d watched her as she’d cried, her tears silent and unchecked as Angie’s coffin was lowered into the ground. She looked so frail it was as though she hadn’t even enough strength to wipe the tears away. He’d wanted to hold her and tell her everything was going to be all right, but she’d built a barrier around herself; a force field to keep people away. Back at the house he put his arms around her. “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked her tenderly. He hugged her close to his chest, but she stood like a sentry. She’s so frag
ile, he thought. She’ll break in two if I squeeze her too hard. He kissed the top of her head and placing his hand under her chin, brought her eyes up to his.

  “I can’t remember,” she said quietly. “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “I love you with all my heart and then some.”

  A watery smile crossed her face and she rested her head against his chest. “I’m tired, Jack.” He gently pushed her away from him, his brow furrowed with worry for her. “You’ve got to rest, Kate. There’s nothing to stop you now.”

  “I wanted her to love me. I know it sounds strange and Emma doesn’t understand, but I wanted her to love me.”

  “I know,” he said softly, pulling her into his arms again. “You find the good in every one. There isn’t a malicious bone in your body and everyone knows it. Don’t question everything too much. You can’t change it. None of us can. Maybe you don’t want to...I don’t know, but the future is there for us and I can’t imagine my life without you. If I can’t be with you I don’t want to be with anyone.”

  She looked into his eyes again and saw such kindness and tenderness there her heart leapt with joy. This was the love she’d hoped for since she was a child. Jack was her rock and her sanctuary. “I found something in Mum’s jewellery box. I haven’t shown it to anyone else, not even Emma.” She reached for her bag and pulled out a small photograph.

  “It’s a baby,” Jack said, frowning. “Is it you? I suppose it looks a bit like you. It’s the hair...black... like yours.” She nodded eagerly. “I suppose it must be me. Well...I want it to be. Perhaps she loved me after all and couldn’t bring herself to tell me? I hope so, Jack. I really hope so.”

  The funeral had been harrowing. Emma, racked with guilt, didn’t leave Kate’s side until they returned to the house. She’d attached herself to her sister because being next to Kate was the only place she felt safe. When the doctor came to the house after Angie’s death, she locked herself in her room.

  “It’s all right,” Kate said to her. “You can stop worrying. He said Mum choked to death. You can forget it now, put it behind you and live your life. You’ve got what you wanted.”

  That night, after Angie’s body had gone to the mortuary, Emma knocked on Kate’s door crying. “Kate, can I come in?” She climbed into bed next to her sister, asking for forgiveness, saying she hadn’t meant to let it happen and if she could turn the clock back she would.

  “Give me time, Emma. I need time.” When Emma had gone back to Christina, Kate had taken the photograph of Joe from under her pillow. “You don’t know what’s happened, do you? I wonder if you’d even care.”

  All she could think of now was Joe, a man whose wife had departed this world and who was totally unaware of it. Wishing on the dandelion clock had not worked for her this time. Kate was at a loss to know how to find the elusive man who was her father.

  Chapter 33

  “You have to tell her, Ivy. The girl has a right to know. You’d want to know wouldn’t you?”

  “Katie’s had so much to deal with lately, Ray. I don’t know if it would be right.

  “Of course it’s right. It’s her family history. If anyone should know she should. And Emma as well.”

  Ivy poured two big mugs of tea and put one on the table next to Ray who unfolded his newspaper and placed a tick against the horse he would put a bet on that lunchtime. She leant against the cupboard, nursing the steaming mug in her hands. “Those girls have had a terrible time. I wish Joe would come home and sort the mess out. They need someone to take care of them.”

  “Kate’s got Jack,” he said. “You know he’d do anything for that girl.”

  “Yes, but Joe’s their dad. He should be with them now Angie’s gone.” Ray nervously cleared his throat. “Perhaps if he knew she was gone he would be here.” Ivy slammed her mug down on the pale-blue Formica table, spilling tea over Ray’s newspaper. She glared at him. “Ray Daly, are you trying to tell me something. You know where he is, don’t you?”

  Ray stuck his nose into his paper. He knew she would come down on him like a ton of bricks if he said anything out of turn. She was a wonderful woman but she had a temper like a spitfire when she got going.

  “Don’t hide away from me, Ray,” she said, pulling the paper away from his face and ripping it down the centre. He looked exasperated. “I don’t know anything of the sort,” Ray protested. “When Joe was telling me he’d had enough like, y’know of Angie, he said he wished he could turn the clock back. He said that was where his heart was.”

  “What did he mean by that?” Ray sighed shook his head. “I’ve no idea, Ivy, but that’s what he said. Now you know as much as I do.”

  He folded the paper and put it under his arm as he went into the hall. “I’m going down the bookies. D’you want anything?”

  “There’s nothing at the bookies I want Ray Daly and there’s nothing you want either. You make sure you don’t spend all our money. The grand-kids are coming tomorrow and I want to give them a little bit of pocket-money each. I don’t want to have to tell them their grandpa’s lost it all on the gee-gees. I’m going to market this morning to get them a few treats and I won’t be back until well after dinnertime. You can make dinner today.”

  “Give over moaning, woman. I’m the man of the house and I wear the trousers in this family.”

  “Yes, Ray, but I tell you which ones to put on.”

  ***

  A mid-June sun rose in the sky like a soft peach, promising a beautiful day. Emma strolled through Hatters Market watching six-week old Christina as she gurgled happily in her pram. Some of the shoppers had stopped her and admired her baby, saying how dainty she was in her lace dress and bonnet, and how like Emma she looked.

  “She’ll break some hearts,” one of them said and it had made her feel proud. She meandered down the aisles lined with stalls, not hurrying, enjoying the time with her baby. Kate had promised to meet her at The Coffee Kisses Cafe on her lunch break. She was back working at Kendalls. The store had insisted she return to them after hearing Angie had died. Kate had been flattered and jumped at the chance they offered her.

  At twelve-fifteen Emma made her way through the market towards the cafe. As she reached the last few stalls a hand reached out from the throng of people and grabbed her arm. She wrenched it away and looked directly into the eyes of Stephen Barton.

  “Get off,” she cried. Stephen positioned himself directly in front of her, blocking her path. “So,” he said as he walked round the pram. “This is the brat you’re trying to pass off as mine, eh? Ugly isn’t it?” Emma said nothing and tried to walk on but he put his hand on the handle to stop her. “Hey, just a minute, Emma. Not so fast.” He smiled at her. “Don’t be like that. It was just a joke. I just wanted to congratulate you and to tell you I’ve had an idea about how we can solve the problem of the baby. One of my friends knows someone who is desperate for a kid but they don’t seem to be able to manage it. They’ve tried for years but no luck. You could let me take it. I’ll make sure it gets a good home and that we get a decent payment. Then you and I can get it together again like the old days. What d’you say?”

  Emma raked her fingernails across Stephen’s hand as he held on to the pram. He cried out with pain. “You vicious bitch. I’m trying to help you, you little tramp.” Emma pushed him away. “Get lost, Stephen? If you ever come near me and Christina again I’ll kill you. Stay away from us. We don’t need you. And you’re right. You’re not her father. She doesn’t need a father like you. We don’t need any man if that’s what you call yourself. You’re nothing to write home about.”

  Some of the shoppers had gathered around them as the argument escalated. Emma tried unsuccessfully to push the pram through the crowd, and more people stopped and watched the unfolding drama, intrigued by the sound of raised voices.

  “You’re nothing but a whore, Emma McGuire,” Stephen shouted at her. “That bastard is nothing to do with me. Stay away from my home and don’t contact my parents again. They both
know you’re out to make a fast buck.”

  Emma’s face burnt with humiliation. Then she saw Kate pushing her way through the crowds.

  “Emma,” she called. “What’s going on?” Emma pointed to Stephen. Kate walked up to him, her eyes narrowing, her dislike for him galvanising her. “What d’you want?”

  “I want her to get rid of that bastard in the pram,” he said. “I told her I’ve found a way, and we could make some money too. She owes me, anyway. My parents cut my allowance because of you and that bitch coming to the house.”

  Kate took a step forward, pulled her arm back and struck out with a clenched fist, punching Stephen squarely on the nose. Emma gasped as he fell to the ground with a thud, his arms flailing as he tried to save himself. The crowd cheered as he squirmed with embarrassment. He sat up unsteadily then tried to stand but his legs had turned to rubber. Kate waited until he stood up, her hands on her hips. She was ready for more.

  “I could sue you for assault,” he said angrily, rubbing his chin.

  “Go ahead. We’ll see you in court any day of the week. We’ve a lot to tell them.”

  “You’re just a pair of tramps. Stay away from my family.” Kate grinned and turned her back on him. “It’ll be our pleasure.” They watched him as he walked into the crowd, barging people out of the way and looking back at them with hate in his eyes. “I don’t think we’ll see him again,” said Kate, rubbing her knuckles.