‘Maybe.’
She looks at the spoon in my hand. ‘The punishment—’
‘You decide it.’
‘But after what him did …’ mutters Kelmar, her eyes shine with tears. ‘And you’re thinking Barney’s still here somewhere. Look Mary—’
‘You loved Valmarie, dun you.’
‘Right. Food.’ She goes into the kitchen.
When she comes back in, her eyes are shining and she’s got a basket of bread in her hand. She slides out the chair and sits down opposite me. She says, ‘Getting upset for what’s gone and not set to come back dun make it easier.’
I swallow a spoonful of the chicken soup, my throat clenches. ‘You’re sure the women have the tall man? If him got out of the Thrashing House, how do you know him won’t—’
‘Course we’d be careful of that. Now stop asking me questions. You’re just talking me all over the place, but I’ve got questions for you. What’s got you thinking Barney’s still here, and who’s this Langward? I’m not talking of anything else till you get to talking.’
‘Dun want to.’ I put down the spoon.
‘Well, you got to tell someone, and I’m the only one you got to listen to you. Not like you bothered much with folks once your Mam died. You’ve had no one there in her place, little use that she were.’
‘She were my Mam, no matter what she did. I loved her, even if—’
Kelmar’s voice is sharp. ‘She only let me help you after I swore on my own life I’d not tell anyone. If she’d let you die giving birth, I’d have—’
‘You dun care for me that much.’
‘I always cared for you, and just because you dun know it,’ she takes my hand, ‘it dun mean I stopped. You’ve gone and done it again, we’re talking of something else. Come on. Who’s Langward?’
I mutter, ‘You need the name of the tall man, dun you?’
‘That’s hims name?’
I nod. She squeezes my hand and lets go. ‘Mary, that’s it. We’ll get him out of hims silence. Oh Mary, that’s the best thing you’ve done, telling me—’
‘You want me to talk, so stop up yours!’
There’s a smile hiding in her mouth. ‘Him can speak, then, just won’t. Sorry.’
‘You’re sure him is held firm?’
‘Him’ll not get out.’
There’s a shadow in the corner of the room, but when I look at it, it’s gone. I swallow hard and say, ‘Think I need to show you something.’ I unbutton the waist on the black dress. Hold it open so she can just see my belly.
Kelmar gasps, and comes round to get a closer look. ‘Oh Mary. Did him—’
‘No. Just this. It’s nothing.’ I button it up.
‘That’s not nothing. Can you not feel it? I’ll get a poultice.’
‘Dun need anything, it’s fine.’ I eat some more chicken soup.
Kelmar sits down. ‘You’re not feeling anything, are you?’ She puts her hand on my arm. ‘Might be that you’re right, maybe you do need to shut it away, for a while at least.’
She asks me what I’ll let her say tonight at the Weaving Rooms.
I say, ‘I want them to know Barney’s my son and that I’ll get him back off any one of them what’s found him. Tell them if anyone’s seen him or thinks someone them know might have him, them have to tell me. So, say whatever else you want, as long as you say that.’
‘Look Mary …’ Her voice is soft.
‘Dun say—’
‘It’s been a long time. Dun fix your hope too high.’ She pats her chest.
I dun pat mine. ‘I have to.’
She takes my hand. ‘Anything else you want to tell me?’
‘Him said Mam let him have me in her place.’ I frown at her. ‘A trade. Do you think she’d have done that?’
Her eyes have tears in them. ‘I know she weren’t always right in what she did, but even so, I can’t see her doing that. Him is trying to hurt you even more, blaming her. Harm even your memories of her. You’ve got to hang on to what you know.’
‘But I dun remember enough of her …’
Kelmar smudges a tear off her cheek. ‘What him did to you, him did for himself, even if it were to spite her. She couldn’t have made him do anything him dun want to.’
I stroke the rough weave in the fabric of the dress. ‘Tell the women never to talk to me of him. Not ever.’ One of Annie’s dogs comes over and leans against my leg. I stroke the dog’s head. ‘I’m so tired.’
There’s a drawing of shells on Kelmar’s bedroom wall. A patchwork quilt is spread over her bed. I kick off my boots. The smell of lavender makes me heavier. She lifts the quilt and I lie down.
She says, ‘You’ll need clean clothes for when you’re up. Ones what fit you, not like that piece you got on. You’ll fit better Jake’s clothes than mine.’
She goes and gets some folded black clothes, strokes them and lays them on a chair. She presses the quilt around me with solid sure hands.
I tell her I’ve never been in a bed this big. She smiles at me so warm, I say, ‘Can you tell me a story?’
She sits on the bed next to me and the mattress sags as she shifts her weight back. My eyelids close. Her pillow is so soft it sinks under my face.
Kelmar says:
This is the Story of the Stone Crow.
The crows stood along the rocks, talking and gossiping to one another, thems voices like croaks. This were many many years ago, when the sky were so low, if them flew upwards them bashed right into it. It were never thems intention, although them did fly and get bashed often enough, for birds are made to fly.
To the crows, it were a hard life, with the sky so low. Thems beaks got dented, thems feathers ruffled, sometimes them’d get pure knocked out by the sky, depending on how hard and sudden them took off into it. Some got killed, others got broken beaks and had to learn to eat in a whole different way, and the rest just felt giddy a while, till them recovered.
Crows are clever birds. Them watch and learn all kinds of things from one another. One crow never took off at all, but watched all the others bashing and buffeting against the sky. For weeks it sat on the edge of a rock, for months, for years, some say. This crow knew that if it stayed still, right where it were, it would never get hurt by flying. It sat and thought all the time about the sky and how it were so close, just hanging there above its head, waiting to damage it.
Over the years it turned to stone, this crow. A solid rock shaped like a crow, so you’d never have known it had ever been all feathers and made for flight. You’d have thought, if you saw it, that it were the stone carving of a bird.
The other crows knew though. Them pushed and tapped and rolled it off the rock with thems dented beaks, and used thems claws and wing tips to push it all the way across the hills to the edge of a cliff what looks out over the sea.
You can still see that stone crow to this day, though the weather has worn it so it looks like a rock with a sharp beak shape that points out at the sky over the sea. The other crows laid it there so it could always see the horizon, and all the clouds above it. Them wanted it to see how far the sky has risen to now.
So the stone crow can always imagine, even if it can’t feel it in its stone heart, what it could feel like to fly and not be afraid.
The bedroom is almost dark when I wake, the light from the window is strange – the night sky twists with blue-grey clouds. I get up, quiet, and put on Jake’s jumper and hims thick warm trousers. Never have worn trousers before, but my legs are so warm in them. I walk round the room, smiling at how I can sit down and stand up and lie on the floor and I’m all covered up from head to foot. I watch the door and loosen my bindings under Jake’s jumper, just a little.
Kelmar clatters in the kitchen.
The moppet crawls out from under the quilt. I pick it up, quick, and get back in bed.
‘Barney?’ I whisper. ‘Why’s the moppet out of my bag? Did Kelmar—’
Barney’s voice says, ‘Dun go to Weaver …’
‘I’m going to follow her so I can—’
‘This Mary say Weaverroom bad bad.’
‘I need to see the women all together, see who might’ve found you and got you hid somewhere it’s dark.’
‘She says keep away tall man.’
‘I could leave you both here. Hide the moppet somewhere.’
‘She say no no bad man. She make for cry.’
‘She makes you cry?’
‘Not Barney cry. Mary cry.’
A loud crash outside in the kitchen. I push the moppet under the pillow.
The dogs’ claws clatter behind the door.
I pull the moppet out again. ‘Barney …’
The sound of the sea. Him has gone.
In the kitchen I listen at the curtain to the women’s voices in the other room.
Nell’s voice says, ‘Can’t put him back in without the key.’
There’s muttering and Camery says, ‘Poor girl.’
I hear Chanty’s voice saying, ‘Him can’t stay here and, well … like Nell said …’ One of the dogs growls.
The voices speak again, them’re talking about Langward and how them each dun want to choose, and if them kill him, whose hands would do it and still be able to keep working on the cloths and weavings when them’d deaded someone. Camery’s saying she couldn’t step up for it.
Kelmar interrupts her and says, ‘We’ve got to decide on levels.’
‘Levels?’
‘Of punishment.’
Nell says, ‘Him deserves worse than anything.’
‘Well, that’s death with no truth left behind, ‘ent it?’ says Camery.
Kelmar says, ‘I guess him’d be pretty much considered punished if him is dead.’
Nell mutters, ‘Nothing from before and nothing to come—’
‘Shall I take the dogs back down to Annie after?’
‘No. Let her sit with herself for a bit. See what comes.’
Chanty pitches in. ‘So is it death we’re decided on? We could row him out to the island of the Glimmeras, let thems poison hair kill him. No, we could put him in a boat, tow him out to sea, far as we can get him. Then tell him to go back to hims home … if him can find it.’
Camery shrieks, ‘Him raped her!’
I back away from the curtain, cold all over, I crash against a cupboard and thems voices keep talking, but so far away …
Kelmar comes into the kitchen, closes the curtain behind her, puts her arm around me and says, quiet, ‘We’re off soon, but you dun want to be hearing any of this, you said—’
‘I’ve changed my mind. I do want a say in this. Punish him with what him is. That’s worse than being punished for anything him has done. If you’re looking for hims truth, like what the Thrashing House should’ve done, I can tell you of that. Him is a trader through and through. Him dun give anything unless him takes something away. So trade him.’
‘Trade him for what?’
‘The three boys them took to the main land. Make the tall men bring them home. Make the tall men agree that Langward is never to come back here. If the tall men refuse … keep him away from me. But do what you want with him.’
She hugs me and says, ‘I’ll speak well for you. You’ll be all right here?’
‘Aye.’
Her big hand squeezes my shoulder. ‘You sure?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re not, but we’ll talk of that later. We’re heading off now. Keep the dogs in, or them’ll head straight back to Annie. I’ll leave my door unlocked, but I’ll be taking my key with me. Just so you know.’ She smiles at me. ‘You’ll be … all right, given time.’
The fire crackles in the grate. There’s paper and charcoal sticks on Kelmar’s table. I stare at the blank paper, my hand clasps the charcoal like it wants to write something down, but it dun know what.
So I get the moppet and whisper, ‘Mary, write what you want.’
I put the moppet on the table next to the blank paper.
In the kitchen I give Annie’s dogs some water. In Kelmar’s bedroom I make her bed and sit down. I stare out of her window at the night sky and bright snow. Think how still and quiet it is.
And I think of the word Camery said. The women will speak that word to each other tonight, when them talk of what Langward did to me. The women will always think of that word now, whenever them see me. Whenever them speak my name.
I’m sitting at a wooden table, near a fire in someone else’s home, writing words I dun ever want to speak.
I’m here in another room, looking at warm snow out of the window, stroking patchwork with my fingers.
I warm my hands by the fire, stroke the dogs so them lie down quiet and I walk over to the table. Shadow Mary has written on the paper.
Or it might’ve been me:
I’ve no language for hims force, unwanted. No compass to measure it on my body, no map to chart where it were, or a clear injury to show what him took from me.
So I’ll not name it. It’s not mine. It’s nothing I can speak of.
Other people want to name it so them can choose a punishment for some damage them can’t see. But without a name for it, I’m myself. I refuse it. I’ll not let this word attach itself to me. If it does, people will only see damage when them look at me; them will meet this word, for it is a terrible word to meet.
Unspeak it for me.
Dun speak to me of a punishment for this crime.
The justice I need steps in my footprints and lives in a shadow. Let your eyes see the shadow what’s always beside you, for the shadow needs to be cared for, to be mended, repaired.
Dun let your eyes see what has been done.
Let your eyes see the things I do, and do well. Let your eyes see the shadow what can’t speak, and help it mend.
And that will be some kind of justice.
Annie’s dogs watch me. An ache in my chest. Enough being a child in someone else’s home. I have to go back to my home. Find Barney and bring him home too. That’s everything. And that’s enough.
Annie’s dogs jump at me as soon as I pick up my bag. I push them away and look around the room.
There’s something in the air in here, something missing, not noticed, forgot …
One of the dogs barks.
I sit down by the fire, hold out my hands and stare at them. Is it about Mam, about what Kelmar wouldn’t say, about Mam’s death …
No.
About Annie and Mam’s death … no. Still dun believe Annie would ever hurt Mam. But she’s never told me the truth about her death, for there’s more to it than what she’s said.
Not that.
Think.
About everything Annie’s been keeping to herself. That she knew about the boys being traded before anyone else did. She’s not been lying to me. Just not telling me the truth.
Not just that.
Firelight flickers over my fingers.
It’s the truth. I feel it like a secret glow in my hands.
Think.
Something about my hands.
What have them touched that them know is true?
Something here in this room.
Think.
It’s her dogs.
Pacing, by the door.
Think.
She loves these dogs more than anything else. Is never apart from them. So why weren’t she out with the women, tracking Langward with them? Why hasn’t she come for them?
Think.
I haven’t been inside her cottage since before Barney got took. Because each time I saw her, she said she’d come round to mine … and I never even noticed her do it.
Think.
She were talking of moving house with Martyn, all the way to Wreckers Shore, and that were decided quick and quiet, not long after Barney were took.
Think.
Whenever I asked the moppet, ‘Where are you?’ Barney said, ‘It’s dark.’ So him is so well hid, no one would ever see him outside.
Think.
; If him needs to be hid indoors and kept in the dark, it must be because all around him, outside in the light, or looking through the windows, are all the folks what know exactly what him looks like.
Think.
If Barney untangled himself from the nets and fell out of the boat just as the tall men left, him wouldn’t have had to swim far at all. Him could’ve been washed up on the beach.
Think.
The beach where Annie walks these dogs, every single day.
Think.
That’s it. That’s truth.
I scrawl a note for Kelmar and leave it on the table.
The bright light from the pale moon splashes off the snow. As I shut Annie’s dogs inside, a shadow moves next to me.
The shadow flits over the snow, the same shape and size as me. Shadow Mary is beside me. We run towards the cliff path what leads north. My feet slip and slide in the snow, catch on the stones hidden under it. Shadow Mary leaves no tracks.
I stop and breathe hard. Shadow Mary stands a few feet away. Waits. Watches me with her hollow eyes.
We’re running again. I hear her voice in my thoughts, Can’t even remember, can’t even remember, can’t even remember, her voice, the beat of a drum.
‘Stop it.’ My feet slide and slip, she runs faster than me. My legs are too weak, I trip, fall and sit up, rubbing my shins.
She leans over me. ‘You called me back. I’m not going away. Unlock the blank dark.’
‘Dun know what you mean.’ I try to get up, but stagger and fall again.
She leans down and hisses in my ear, ‘Stop taking keys from other folks, and unlock the blank dark.’
‘Dun know how to.’
‘I’m giving you all the memories back. Keep doing it, till them’re all just yours. For I dun want them neither.’
‘I were made to forget them. The tincture.’
‘You could’ve looked for them, you knew them were missing, knew you had blanks in your head.’
‘I dun want them! I should get rid of you – done it before, and I can do it again!’ I stagger to my feet.
She snarls at me. ‘Then you’ll be half of yourself.’
‘I just want Barney back.’ I walk away from her, fast as I can.
She’s next to me. ‘So you’re going to shut me away again, pour all your love into him—’
‘Aye, I am,’ I say. ‘Him needs it.’
Snake Ropes Page 26
