Diamonds Fall

by Rebecca Gibson

  "Baby happy?" he questioned, sitting down heavily.

  "Yes," Annabel replied. "Yes she is."

  "What baby name?" Billy asked, looking at Annabel quizzically. This was something Annabel hadn't even considered. It seemed absurd now, that a child should remain nameless.

  "Oh...um...Hetty didn't...let's wait for Daniel and Patsy. Then we will come up with one together."

  Billy nodded so excitedly it looked as if his head would fly off. Annabel let out a little laugh, feeling warmth radiate through her at the mere sight of him. Annabel racked her brains for a suitable name, looking down at the baby in her arms every time she thought of one, to see if it fit the small face looking back at her.

  Daniel returned around lunch time, bounding up the ladder with ease and agility. He had a jug of milk clasped in one hand.

  "Patsy's with Mama, makin' food I think."

  He strolled over to Annabel and Billy's huddle, plopping down beside them and directing his gaze to the baby.

  "Does your mother know about Hetty?" Annabel asked. "Was she ever so upset?"

  To Annabel's surprise Daniel snorted in amusement, "was she `ell. Jus' one less mouth t' feed innit?"

  Annabel took in a sharp breath. It made a hissing noise as it passed her teeth.

  "She had her emotion beat outta her years ago Anna. No need'a be shocked. It's just life here."

  There was nothing to say to such a comment so they reverted back to silence, until Patsy's wild hair appeared at the top of the ladder. She was so quiet nobody even heard her enter the stable. With her came the smell of fresh bread. Annabel's mouth began to water in anticipation as Patsy tore up the misshapen loaf and gave a piece to everyone. It was still warm. Annabel held it between her cold hands for a few seconds, eating as slowly as she could to savour the feeling of the food sliding down into her stomach, the flavours filling her mouth.

  When she had finished Billy thrust the fresh milk into Annabel's hands, giving her a not so subtle hint that the baby should be fed as well. As the baby drank with loud, desperate sucking noises, Annabel faced the group.

  "Billy mentioned we should name the baby. I think he is right. Do you know whether Hetty had a name planned?"

  "George," Patsy replied humorously. "No point thinkin' about a girl's name."

  She cast her eyes down to the floor again, fidgeting with a piece of hair that had fallen in front of her face.

  "Um...well, I have been thinking all day and I want to ask your opinion...because she is, of course, your niece but there was some member of royalty who I once met in France called Genevieve. She had the same pale eyes as the baby does, so I thought...maybe Genevieve would work. It's not too dissimilar to George...I mean, it still begins with a G." Annabel broke off, looking around at the others faces, trying to gage their reactions. Patsy simply nodded.

  "What little girl don't wanna be a princess, eh? Genevieve, yeah it works." Daniel replied, smiling.

  Billy looked on frowning, his mouth moving as if he were trying to figure out exactly how to place the name on his tongue.

  "Jen!" he shouted out triumphantly as he came up with the abbreviation. Annabel winced, about to dissuade him from such a shortening but Patsy nodded again.

  "Jen," she muttered, smiling to herself, "yeah, she's Jen."

  Seeing the joy that filled all of the faces around her, Annabel just let herself be carried along with their merriment.

  "Hello Jen," Billy repeated the name, smiling down at Genevieve.

  A sudden thought struck Annabel...that Billy might accidentally mention the baby when he was out on his chores, without knowing the danger he would be putting her in.

  "Billy," she said, looking intently into his eyes. "I have to tell you something, okay?"

  He nodded, excited by the look on Annabel's face.

  "You must not tell anyone about Jen, alright?"

  He nodded.

  "No one, not Papa, not Mama, not Tom. Especially not Tom, you understand?"

  "Yes," he said with determination. "She is secret. Billy keep secret."

  Annabel let out a sigh of relief, smiling up at Billy who grinned back. He, of all people, understood the cruelty that could be unleashed by his family, if they found Genevieve. Annabel transferred the baby into Billy's waiting arms as Daniel ruffled his hair, making him laugh.

  "Genevieve Henrietta Prince." Patsy muttered from where she was leaning against the wall besides Daniel.

  "Your surname's Prince?" Annabel asked.

  "Not what you expected, huh?" Daniel laughed.

  "Well...I - I never knew. That makes her name even more perfect."

  They sat absorbing the small sounds and movements of the newly named Genevieve Prince, until Daniel and Patsy's names could be heard being hollered from next door. Daniel groaned and got to his feet, making his way down the ladder with just a small, reluctant wave. Patsy blew a kiss as she descended after him.

  The rest of the day passed in a daze, filled with Genevieve's cries and a frantic rush to silence them. Billy was astoundingly adept at taking care of a baby, noticing her distress often before she made a sound. So much love exuded from him that any worries Annabel may have had for Genevieve's wellbeing dispersed immediately.

  As night was creeping in, Patsy came back into the stable, dripping wet from the torrential rain now pounding against the thin wooden roof. In her hands were several of the candles she had promised just the night before.

  "Daniel's hunting," she muttered, her teeth chattering slightly.

  "Seriously? He will catch his death."

  "Nah, `e's fine. You rather go `ungry?"

  In reply Annabel's stomach let out a loud growl and they both laughed. The laughter however, was thin and lasted only a couple of seconds. Annabel never went out in the rain; she didn't really know what rain felt like.

  To cover her embarrassment, Annabel busied herself positioning the candles around them, hoping they would produce some sort of heat if ever she could figure out how to light them. She didn't think they would possess a match.

  Patsy walked over to Billy and Genevieve sat in the corner. Looking into the small face of her niece she said almost inaudibly, "shall we baptise her?"

  "What?" Annabel replied, unsure whether she had heard correctly.

  "She's so little. I've seen babies die without bein' baptized an' knowin' they can't get to heaven...I know it won' be proper, bu' God must...I dunno, please?" Annabel was sceptical and worried that Patsy was already anticipating this infant's death. However, having seen what little of this family she had, she agreed.

  "Do you want to wait for Daniel?" Annabel asked.

  Patsy shook her head. "No, `e thinks I'm mad believin' in heaven."

  Annabel nodded again, silently agreeing more with Daniel's point of view. How could someone live here and still believe in heaven? Where would someone even learn about heaven here? Patsy looked at Annabel expectantly.

  "Wha' do we `ave to do?" Patsy prompted.

  "Oh, right. Well I think we should...light the candles and then..."

  Annabel looked around her for inspiration, running a hand across her eyes as she tried to think back to the christenings she had attended. She had always been too consumed in the way the other guests were admiring her dress, whilst running her own eyes over everyone else's less flattering attire, to pay much attention to the service itself.

  "And holy water, I think that is quite important."

  There was a pause as Patsy lit the candles and looked at Annabel confused, unsure how to acquire the second request.

  "Oh...um...normal water should be fine. Yes, just normal water."

  Patsy scurried from the room, returning only a matter of minutes later with the water.

  "I've never prayed before, do you think God will mind?" Patsy asked sheepishly as she knelt beside the water, watching as it settled in the bucket.

  "No, he will forgive you in a heartbeat," Annabel replied, gesturing to Billy to follow her over to the bucket too.
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  Once they were all knelt in a circle, she took both Billy and Patsy's hands and began a prayer above the water. They asked forgiveness for their sins and impurity. They spoke of the pure heart of the baby and asked for her to have health, intelligence and a good life. Following this Annabel took up the baby and held her above the water. Genevieve wriggled and kicked out her legs in anticipation. Splashing water over the baby's head, Annabel recited the Lord's Prayer, the only prayer she had bothered to remember off the top of her head. As she reached the end of the prayer she drew a cross with her fingers on Genevieve's forehead. She was making it up but she wanted it to as least sound convincing. To her own ears her words sounded empty and ridiculous but Patsy and Billy both watched with rapt attention.

  "Genevieve Henrietta Prince, I offer you to God as a servant to our Lord. I, Annabel Maria Hoddington, hereby swear to protect her from all earthly harm and to submit this child, your daughter, to your care when you deem the moment right. Do you, Patricia and William Prince, swear in the name of God, to do the same?"

  "Yes," they chanted in unison.

  Annabel bent down and kissed Genevieve on the head. Picking up a blanket she then wrapped her tightly back inside it.

  "All done," Annabel smiled.

  Patsy had taken the child in her own arms and now held her tightly - as if her life depended on it - rocking her to soothe her gentle cries. Anxious at the sound, Billy scooped her up, away from his younger sister, calming the infant almost at once.

  It was a lovely sight to see Billy and Patsy cooing around the baby sandwiched between them. They had the same round faces, their mouths curving upwards in the exact same way. Annabel stood and watched their sibling chemistry for a while, drinking in their stolen moment. Annabel knew then, even with the trauma already tainting her tiny life, Genevieve would never live without love.

  Chapter Eleven

  Having completed Genevieve's christening, it dawned in everyone's mind just how unfair it would be not to fight for a funeral to be held for Hetty. Patsy and Annabel, the guilt still gnawing at their innards, both agreed it was the least they could do, having been unable to save Hetty in the first place. Billy took Genevieve, he still did not quite understand the fate that had befallen Hetty and Patsy was anxious to keep it that way. As they left the stable, Patsy held onto Annabel's arm for reassurance, as well as to show anybody who may be peeking out of their houses that she was in control of Annabel, not her ally...a necessity to avoid more abuse befalling them both. The feeling of constantly being watched still held that same threatening, sinister quality. They both knew that should they take a single step in the wrong direction, they would be hunted down immediately.

  Annabel was sure everyone had heard about Hetty by now, many of whom would have heard the screaming first hand yet stood in their houses, too cowardly to help.

  Patsy told Annabel of how Tom had confronted both her and Daniel together, accusing them of spiting him by stealing his child. He didn't even mention the loss of his wife. He demanded to see Jen simply to take her down to the stream and drown her. He was convinced Hetty had to have been unfaithful. He believed himself not weak enough to produce females. For a brief, terrifying moment, he had accused Daniel of fathering the child, yet seemed to deem this idea ludicrous after a few moments.

  Finishing her recollection, Patsy led Annabel into the dimly lit house next to the stable to find Patsy's mother, once more crouched by the fire stirring a thin stew.

  "Mama," Patsy greeted, bending down to kiss the older woman on her cheek. She did not even look up. A dark bruise was shadowing the cheek closest to the fire.

  "You ruined the stew yesterday Pat and then you wasted it on her."

  Patsy looked stung.

  "Mama I was...Hetty was..." She was unable to finish that sentence. "She needed me Mama."

  "I needed you Pat. You know your father doesn't like waiting and the mess she made."

  "You can't be that cold Mama, Hetty's..." she took a shuddering breath. "Where is she Mama, where did they take her?"

  Patsy hadn't been fooled by Daniel's white lie. She knew Tom had taken her. Patsy's mother closed her eyes for a moment, as if weary to her very bones.

  "I don't know Patsy," she sighed.

  "Yes you do." Patsy's voice had turned as hard as ice. "Tell me where she is. I gotta give `er somethin' as a funeral, please Mama."

  Her mother simply stirred the stew with the same slow turns, her eyes fixed on the ripples the ladle made in the watery mixture.

  "She migh' be jus' in the trees. I dunno where they took `er but I saw `em carry `er in the forest last night. She won' be on the path, they're clever." She said this with a sickening amount of pride in her voice.

  "Thank you Mama," Patsy whispered, grasping Annabel's elbow again and steering her outside into the rain.

  They found Hetty's body more by smell than sight. She was still covered in blood and almost blue in colour. There was already evidence of where insects and forest animals had taken their sustenance from her flesh. Turning away, Annabel threw up in a bush directly behind her, emptying her stomach completely until she was just dry heaving onto the leaves.

  "We - we need to find Daniel," Patsy said, stronger in stomach than Annabel but still appalled and sickened. Something in Patsy's face suggested this wasn't the first time she had seen a corpse. Carefully untying Hetty's blood stained apron, Patsy draped it over her unseeing face, affording Hetty this one last shred of dignity.

  Annabel heard someone approaching, twigs were snapping beneath heavy boots. However, these footfalls were steady and light. Turning around Annabel saw Daniel walking towards her with long, focused strides, as if he were concentrating really hard on this simple action. That way he could avoid the sight of Hetty on the saturated ground. Still lost in her own shock and grief, Patsy fell to her knees and began to scoop the wet mud into her hands, making a small hole in the ground. She dumped handfuls of mud beside her. Dirt coated her dress and arms in seconds. Annabel, realising that Patsy was trying to dig a grave, quickly joined her in the chore. It was absurd, Annabel knew that and so did Patsy, but still they continued.

  Sighing, out of weariness as opposed to impatience, Daniel laid a hand gently on his sister's shoulder and pulled her back until she was resting on her heels.

  "I'll go get a spade."

  Annabel breathed out in relief. Her tender hands were already scratched and raw from only a few seconds of the work. She sat back as well, watching Daniel's form retreat into the trees. He returned a few moments later with only one spade and a loaf of slightly burnt bread, which he threw at the women before sliding the metal tool into the ground with a swift, efficient movement. The sound of the spade slicing through the earth was akin to a sword, Annabel thought, as she nibbled on the bread absentmindedly. Patsy jumped up to help Daniel, not even touching her own bread, but he picked her up and plonked her back down like a toddler. With a loud groan, sounding almost like a growl, Patsy crossed her arms over her chest and squinted in Daniel's direction, watching the pile of mud increase in size beside the deepening grave. Tears were once more falling silently down her cheeks, gouging tracks through the dirt that had somehow found a way onto her face and mixing with the cold, steady rain water that sent a chill down Annabel's spine.

  When the grave was finally finished, Daniel climbed out and flopped down beside them, exhausted. His hands were bloodied and blistered, whilst all of their clothes were sodden from the rain and caked in mud. Patsy stood up slowly and cradled Hetty in her arms. Despite the putrid smell her body gave off, she lowered her into the grave, careful not to move the apron away from her deformed face.

  "I - I think we should say summit," Patsy croaked. The others nodded their affirmation and she continued. "He-Hetty, thank you for givin' up everythin' to be part of our family, even if you were only with us f-for a little bit, it were really nice. I'm gunna miss you and I promise to look after your little g-g-girl and to show her how much she is loved, every single day."r />
  Tears ran down all of their faces as they threw a handful of dirt into the grave and Daniel picked up his shovel again, wiping sweat from his already sodden brow. At the exact moment the shovel sliced back into the earth, a great flash of lightning illuminated the sky and a peel of thunder rolled over the tree tops. Annabel watched in silence, the rain plastering her hair to her face and making her shiver even more violently.

  When the earth had been replaced, forming a mound above Hetty's body, Annabel once more repeated the Lord's Prayer and Patsy laid two branches on the ground to form a cross.

  The three mourners turned to walk the few feet onwards, towards the grey stream where they each plunged their heads in and drank until they were full, lowering their aching bodies, fully clothed into the icy river, to rid themselves of the ghastly remnants of Hetty's tomb.

  Dripping wet but clean, they headed back to the stable.

  Once inside they immediately climbed up into the loft and sat on Annabel's bed, as close together as they could manage to get, feeding off of each other's body warmth in the hope of getting dry. They were tired beyond belief, hardly able to move a single muscle. Daniel's hands were cut up and bleeding, his shirt sleeves spotted with blood where he had touched them. Annabel glanced down at her own hands, noticing how much rougher they looked than they used to.

  It took both Patsy and Annabel to lift the ladder that evening, they both refused to let Daniel so much as stand up. Once they were sat on Annabel's bed, they would not have moved if the entire stable had burst into flames...in fact, they would have been glad for the warmth the inferno would have provided.

  Billy and Genevieve were both sleeping peacefully when they returned. Their eyes roamed behind their closed lids as they got lost in their own individual dreams. For that, at least, the three friends were glad.

  Sitting on Annabel's bed, watching the two dreamers, they each felt some sort of peace that they had given Hetty something of a burial. That they had granted some sort of dignity to her gruesome demise.