Diamonds Fall

by Rebecca Gibson

  "It's very beautiful," Patsy said. "Did it cost lots?"

  "I don't know. I assume so. I had four of them in my hair when I left, loads more at home though." Patsy's mouth opened in awe, she looked positively dumbstruck.

  "You `ad lots?"

  "Yes, I wore jewels every day."

  Patsy's mouth widened even more. Annabel felt her cheeks colour in further embarrassment, noticing how something as ordinary to her as a diamond hair comb, could cause so much disbelief. Once more, the insignificance of such a thing became startlingly apparent. Patsy's eyes glanced down towards the dusty floor.

  "So - so this diamond isn't that special then? `cuz you've got lots more."

  Annabel squeezed Patsy's hand again. "No Patsy, this one is the most special one I've ever owned, thank you for rescuing it. Honestly, thank you."

  Patsy smiled again, squeezing back. "Did you live in a big house?"

  "Yes, it was a manor house right at the top of a big hill, overlooking the entire town."

  "Wow. What's it like? I've only been to the town two times with Papa an' he covered my eyes the whole way `til we'd got to the market, then he'd use me to take things from the stalls `cuz I were so small at the time. You gotta tell me everythin'!"

  Patsy was beside herself with excitement. Annabel talked about everything she could think of. She described the balls, including the etiquette required of her, providing examples where necessary which Patsy always attempted to copy. Next Annabel took her through a description of the entire manor, with as much detail as she could remember. Patsy listened to the whole thing with rapt attention, hanging on every word like a child being told a fairy tale before bed. After a while, a voice made its way closer to the stable, calling for Patsy. She jumped up to hurry, with much more expertise than Annabel, down the rickety ladder.

  "In here!" she called.

  After a few seconds Hetty came into view at the stable door, looking pained and exhausted. Patsy put a hand tenderly on Hetty's shoulder and urged her to sit down.

  "No, no I can't. Tom wants me to help your mama and the boys need feeding."

  Seeing Patsy's concern she added, "I'm okay, the world don't stop because you're `aving a baby. Our men still need their chores done."

  Her voice started to strain with suppressed agony and she bent at the waist slightly, closing her eyes.

  "Hetty you need to rest!"

  "NO! I can't rest! Tom wants things done, `e won't have mercy if they aren't. When he wants what he wants it wouldn't matter if the baby was half way out, I would still have to do it!"

  Shaking slightly she turned and forced her voice to sound light.

  "Please come back to the house Patsy, I'd really like the help."

  Patsy glanced up at Annabel, now making her descent from the loft. She looked haggard.

  "Can you come to the house too?" she murmured, so quietly one might have missed it. "I don't think I can face her on my own, she's in agony."

  As she pondered her sister in laws fate, a mirror of all their futures, tears were not evident at all in Patsy's dark eyes...instead there was hell.

  Chapter Eight

  As they paced their way over to the wonky house next door, Annabel became aware of a growing unease in her stomach. She was walking into the complete unknown. The further lack of control terrified her.

  Following Patsy through a low wooden door, that wobbled on its handmade hinges as she opened it, Annabel found herself in a dark room with a low ceiling. The walls were made from dried mud and straw, the floor just bare earth.

  Most of the room was filled by a large table with wonky legs, surrounded by a set of stools, all of it handmade. In the far right hand corner was a doorway leading to what Annabel naively assumed to be the various bedchambers. On the wall to Annabel's left was a fireplace - or rather a deep dent in the wall with a hole above it, acting as something of a chimney. A small window beside the door was the only source of light in the otherwise dim and smoky space. At the fire stooped the elder woman. Her straw-like hair was tied roughly at the nape of her neck with a worn piece of string. Annabel's heart rate increased at the very sight of her sneering, prematurely aged face. In the opposite corner Hetty was knelt on the floor, one hand still rubbing at her grotesquely out of proportion belly, her other hand deep in a rusty tub of soapy water, washing what looked like blood off of a grey dress.

  "What happened?" Patsy asked, rushing to Hetty's side and taking the sodden dress out of her hand.

  "Oh it's just a bit of blood, it happens sometimes when you're pregnant, it's fine," she replied, trying to sound reassuring.

  "No it doesn't Hetty, you shouldn't be bleeding and you know it!"

  "I've got to get these stains out before Tom sees, he can't know."

  Annabel noticed that Hetty's bony hands were trembling as she worked. Feeling an out of character sense of concern Annabel rushed over as well, gently pulling at Hetty's shoulders to ease her back onto the floor.

  "Get off me!" she screamed, crawling out of Annabel's grasp to the other side of the tub, her face creased in pain. "Why did you bring her here? Haven't we got enough problems?" she snapped at Patsy.

  "I didn't bring her here Hetty, you know that. I'm jus' making her life better now she is."

  Hetty glanced up into Annabel's face sceptically. "She ain't a stray cat you can tame Patsy. Who are you anyway?" She directed the question towards Annabel.

  "Miss Annabel Hoddington, daughter of Lord Grayson and Lady Elizabeth Hoddington."

  "Lord and Lady? What were they thinking? We'll all be killed in our sleep."

  "I assure you, that is not my intention. I would like to leave as much as you want me gone."

  "You assure me." Hetty snorted in a scornful laugh that turned into a suppressed groan halfway. "Make yourself useful. Help the old woman with dinner."

  "I have never cooked before, so I think I would be better placed with you. I'd hate to ruin dinner."

  "Would you now? Well, grab one of those shirts," Hetty gestured to the large pile of clothes next to her knees. "Patsy you help your mama."

  Patsy did as she was told. Going over to the fire she rested a hand on her mother's shoulder and whispered in her ear. The older woman shook off her daughter's touch with a disgruntled look. Rising to her feet, she left Patsy alone to finish the meal, picking up a large woven basket on her way. Annabel watched her leave as she begun to wash the disgustingly dirty garment in her hands. Hetty continued to scrub at her dress with growing urgency, her face creased up and crimson. Her quick breath laboured occasionally over the strongest bouts of hurt. She groaned as the pain seemed to reach its peak.

  Annabel had no real knowledge of pregnancy. All the women she knew had been taken away for bed rest in the latter months. They never emerged back into society until their body had returned to as close to their former shape as possible. They certainly did not run errands and crouch on the floor to wash shirts.

  A thin sheen of sweat was now glistening over Hetty's face and chest; it started to trickle down her temples. A vein throbbed in her neck whilst the odd tear leaked out to drop into the murky water in front of her.

  When Annabel had finished hanging the shirt by the fire, she noticed a dark stain growing on the back of Hetty's current skirt. She was still bleeding and it looked bad.

  "Patsy," Annabel whispered, trying not to sound alarmed. "Can you just have a look at something for me?" She motioned towards Hetty. Patsy inspected the poor girl, her eyes wild with alarm.

  "Hetty sit back," she ordered.

  "No." Her voice was strained beyond recognition. "Have to finish."

  "Hetty, please!" Patsy's voice was thick with desperation. At the sound of it Hetty looked up. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and her hair was now stuck to her pale face. She looked as though she wanted to protest but was overcome by another peel of agony. Letting out a long, strained scream, she bent over her writhing bump, rocking slightly as if this movement would somehow stem the hurt. Suppressed tears now r
aced down her cheeks. Her face was soon saturated with them.

  "Make it stop Patsy. Please make it stop."

  "I'll try. I'll get help."

  "No!" Hetty seized Patsy's arm, her knuckles white. "I don't think there's time. Tom - Tom'll make it worse."

  Patsy obviously saw truth in these words and sat back down, stroking the hair off of Hetty's face almost frantically.

  "It's okay," Patsy crooned as Hetty gasped in the smoky air. "Anna, come to where I am, hold her head so I can have a look at `er."

  Annabel did as instructed, taking a wet shirt from the water to press against Hetty's clammy forehead.

  "We have to get her to a doctor," she announced.

  "No, if we take her anywhere Tom'll kill us all."

  "I'll go - I'll fetch the doctor."

  "No, you can't. The closest doctor's in your town - it's too far away."

  "We can't just leave her like this!"

  "We have to try on our own. She was fine for the others and they were twins."

  Despite her words, the fear in Patsy's face betrayed her.

  "Get it out Patsy! It doesn't feel like the others. I want it out," Hetty cried, sounding terrified. Annabel quickly realised this wasn't how child birth was meant to go at all.

  As Patsy lifted Hetty's skirt Hetty began to scream in renewed agony, wriggling on the ground. Annabel tried desperately to hold her as still as she could so Patsy could examine her.

  "She's been in labour for hours. Damn it Hetty!" she cursed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  The screaming grew louder and more pained as Hetty's body grew heavier in Annabel's arms. Her strength and will were diminishing rapidly.

  Lowering Hetty's head carefully to the floor, Annabel jumped up. Pouring some water from a jug on the table into a cup, she held it up to Hetty's cracked lips. Hetty drank in small sips, clenching her mouth around the rim of the cup to hold off another scream.

  Just as Annabel lowered the empty cup, the heavy door swung open, banging back on its frame. The figure in the doorway had Annabel shrinking against the wall.

  It was Tom, Hetty's husband and the younger of the two men who had attacked her. She prayed that seeing his wife in such agony he would help her but Annabel soon realised this was an absurd idea. When he spoke, his voice was full of menace. He swayed dangerously on his feet as he stood there, almost too drunk to move.

  "Get up whore!" he bellowed.

  Hetty jumped, crying out in pain. She bent forwards onto all fours with considerable effort, trying to rise to her feet but her legs and arms were too weak to lift her. Tom crouched down, his face only an inch from hers.

  "GET UP!" he screamed, spit flying from his foul smelling mouth. Annabel saw tears running off of Hetty's nose in the same rhythm as the blood now dripping steadily from her skirts.

  Patsy rushed to her side, holding her weight as she tried once more to stand.

  "Tom she's sick, she's having your child. Please have mercy."

  Tom turned his attention to his younger sister, slapping his palm across her cheek. Annabel shrank further into the wall, wanting to help but frozen in terror.

  "Shut up," he growled. "Women have babies all the time, why did my wife have to be so WEAK!"

  "It's not the same this time Tom, let her rest I beg you!"

  He laughed, grabbing Hetty's shoulders and shoved her to the floor. Blood gushed from beneath her dress, soaking the floor. Annabel screamed, covering her face. Patsy knelt at Hetty's side, looking more desperate than ever. Tom bent down at the same time, flinging Patsy towards the wall where she fell against the water tub with a metallic clang. Gripping his wife's chin, he put his nose against hers.

  "Clean your mess up and deliver me a son within the hour. If you haven't washed my clothes and served my dinner by the time I get back, I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

  The sight of Hetty, her face set in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, made something in Annabel snap. She slid the heavy water jug off the table next to her cowering form and rose to her feet. Drawing back the jug she smashed it hard into Tom's temple making him collapse to the ground. Patsy climbed indifferently over him to once again examine Hetty, whose legs were now curled at an odd angle beneath her body, her face paler than ever. As Annabel watched, Hetty's eyes rolled back into her head and she shook violently. Annabel seized the wet shirt once more, placing it back into position over Hetty's hot skin, holding down her shoulders as she tried to arch herself away from the pain.

  "Come on Hetty," Patsy cried. "You have to try."

  Annabel saw the tendons in Hetty's neck straining, until she thought they must snap clean in two, as she tried with all her might to deliver this child for her disgusting husband.

  Patsy shook almost as much as Hetty. She was covered from head to toe in blood and wild with panic. Annabel's head snapped up as she saw another male figure filling the open doorway. She bent over Hetty in a protective stance but when she looked at him again Annabel noticed he looked nothing like Tom or his father. He was a tall man with a slim but strong frame. From the blonde hair that fell over his eyes, she knew this must be Daniel.

  His eyes darted from Hetty's broken form to Patsy and finally to Tom, unconscious on the floor. Daniel checked his brother's pulse, if anything looking slightly disappointed when he found it, then scooped him up and carried him outside, closing the door behind him.

  Hetty's body was growing weaker by the second. She had lost too much blood already and was still losing more. Daniel re-entered the room a couple of minutes later, his arms laden with roughly cut blankets. Hetty strained with every ounce of energy she had left, screaming louder than Annabel thought possible.

  After what felt like hours, the baby finally slid into Patsy's waiting grasp. Daniel took the child from his sister, cradling its head in one large hand, staining his skin with blood. A beautiful high-pitched wail escaped from the infants purple lips. They all smiled in relief as Daniel wrapped it quickly in another blanket, gently rubbing its back with strong, sure hands that told of experience. Patsy sliced the cord with a kitchen knife and continued to tend to the mother. Hetty tried desperately to lift her head enough to see her child, yet no longer had the physical strength to do so. Daniel, noticing her struggle, held the baby against Hetty's chest so she could look upon its face for the first time. She smiled as if oblivious to her suffering and stroked a tender finger over the baby's tiny head.

  "Beautiful," Hetty whispered, and then her head fell back with another groan.

  Daniel snatched up the child in concern. Hetty's tremors quickly became more violent, her entire body shaking on the floor until she was unable to stay on her back. She thrashed from side to side, her eyes once more rolling into her head. A dark stream of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she bit down on her tongue and her body became rigid. Annabel leaned against Hetty, pinning her to the floor, holding her head tightly between her palms. Her heart hammered against her chest. She had no idea what she was doing. She looked around in a panic but Daniel had left the room with the baby.

  Patsy was sat on the floor trembling almost as badly as Hetty, her arms slick with blood. Her bloody face was streaked with tears, so thick she appeared to be choking on them, as she watched Hetty's writhing body vacantly.

  Annabel stayed on top of Hetty, knowing in the bottom of her heart there was nothing she could do but she had to keep trying...had to keep up the pretence she was trying to save the young woman's tragic life.

  Eventually Hetty's fit subsided and her body lay unmoving on the ground. The only sound in the room was the quiet hiss of the dying embers on the fire. The strong smell of blood filled Annabel's nostrils as she gazed upon Hetty's lifeless face.

  Hurried footsteps approached the house before Daniel burst back inside. His eyes instantly went to Hetty. Silently, without so much as breathing, he cupped the back of her head, placing two fingers against her throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, hanging his head as Patsy let out a loud, involuntary s
ob.

  Lifting her own shaky hand, Annabel pulled down Hetty's eyelids. It was in that moment she saw just how young Hetty was.

  "How - how old was she?" she whispered, her throat so dry it was hard to speak. Her voice sounded wrong in this sombre room. She felt more like an intruder than ever.

  "Seventeen," Daniel answered, so quietly it was practically inaudible. His voice was so smooth it was almost musical.

  Moving his hand from Hetty's head Daniel brushed the tips of his fingers lightly over her cheek. Another loud sob from Patsy made him look up and he crawled over to her, pulling her into his chest. She clung to his back as if he were a life raft in her deep ocean of pain. His stubble covered chin rested on his younger sister's head as he rocked her like a child. The sound of her tears touched Annabel so deeply she couldn't stand it. Getting shakily to her feet she crept towards the door. Leaving the two siblings to their shared grief she made her way back to the stable. She almost fell through the door she was so emotionally exhausted, yet she found Billy there, huddled in the corner with a small bundle cradled lovingly in his arms.

  "Sad," he said.

  "Yes," Annabel croaked. "Hetty has gone to heaven," she added after a short pause.

  Billy seemed to not quite understand the concept of a person dying and he'd never really spoken to Hetty. However, he knew Patsy cared about her like family. He looked up at Annabel.

  "Patsy sad?" he asked.

  "Yes," Annabel repeated, "and baby." At this they both glanced down at the little pink infant, still covered in Hetty's drying blood.

  "Dani bring baby. Billy look after it."

  Annabel, tripping over her feet, sank to the floor beside him, leaning her head on Billy's large shoulder. He patted it before returning his hand to the back of the child. Looking down into the blankets Annabel traced a finger across the baby's soft head and down its cheek, managing a small smile. They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time, looking on at the small baby asleep in Billy's loving arms.

  Daniel and Patsy came in just as darkness was drawing in. Daniel had his arm around Patsy who was still sniffling, her eyes bright red and bloodshot. They came over, sitting around the baby as if in some nativity parody.