Stoney Beck

by Jean Houghton-Beatty

  “No, I’m not,” Sarah said, waving the spoon at her. “You came screaming into my room and pulled me out of bed.”

  Biddy squirmed. So it hadn’t been a dream. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t you remember? You pulled me out of bed and dragged me to the window to look at the tree? You said its big black eyes were staring at the house. I tried to tell you they’re not eyes. They’re just holes. But you wouldn’t listen. That’s were the squirrels put their nuts, Biddy. I think they’ve got their babies in there.”

  Normally Biddy would have told Sarah to shut up, but this time she wanted to hear the rest of it. All she could remember were snatches of what she had thought was a nightmare. “You’re just imagining this. Could be that medicine you’re taking. It can do things to you.”

  Sarah rubbed the back of her neck, still sore from Biddy’s rough grip the night before. “You pushed my face up to the window so I could see and said the tree was moving toward the house.” She rested her spoon on the side of the bowl as she felt herself getting short of breath. “Everybody in the world knows trees can’t move, Biddy. Why are you so frightened of it? It’s just an old dead tree.”

  “If it’s just an old dead tree, why do you talk to it? And don’t say you don’t because I’ve seen you.”

  “I’m not really talking to it. I’m just thinking out loud. We used to sit under that tree in the summer. We’d eat ice cream and Mummy would laugh at Daddy singing his songs. Remember, Biddy, the way she’d laugh.”

  Biddy leaned across the table and grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Why don’t you spit it out. You know as well as I do they’re in that tree watching us.”

  “How could they be?” Sarah said, frightened at the look on Biddy’s face. “They died in the car wreck.”

  “Don’t give me that. Are you trying to tell me it was just a wild coincidence that lightning struck the tree the very same time they were killed a thousand miles away.”

  “No, no. It wasn’t like that. You’re getting it all mixed up.”

  Biddy raised her hand for Sarah to hush, and pushed her cup away, sloshing tea over the sides. “I’m having the damn thing cut down and burned, roots and all.” She put her hands on the table and pulled herself up, then came around and grabbed hold of Sarah’s arm, twisting it behind her back until she cried out. “And if you breathe one word to anybody about last night, you’re in deep trouble. The other night in the bath was just a sample. Next time it won’t be just ten minutes and I can make the water colder. If you’re not careful, you’ll be in for half an hour, along with a bucket of ice cubes.”

  Sarah rubbed her arm as she held back the tears. “I won’t tell, honest I won’t. Please, Biddy, can’t we be nice to each other. I’m so tired of all this squabbling. I’m nearly better now and I’ll be back in Malone’s soon. Then you can have the house to yourself all day.”

  “Don’t bank on it, Sarah. Once you get kidney trouble you can go just like that.” Biddy snapped her fingers in front of Sarah’s face. “And we all know your resistance is already rock bottom.” She put her hand under Sarah’s chin and squeezed until tears rolled down her cheeks. “Still, if the nephritis doesn’t grab you, the men in the white coats will. One call from me and they’ll be over here fast as quicksilver. They’ll come racing up the drive pulling that paddy wagon behind them.”

  Sarah wiped her eyes on her napkin, then picked up her spoon with a shaky hand. Her appetite had gone now, but she slowly, deliberately, ate the fruit, chewing every piece. “Jenny said you’re just trying to frighten me. She said there’s no such things as men in white coats with paddy wagons.”

  As soon as the words were out, she clapped her hand over her mouth.

  Biddy leered, exposing her toothless gums. “So, you’ve been tattle-taling again. And to that girl of all people. Even after I’d warned you, you still went ahead and told.”

  “I didn’t mean it. Honestly I didn’t. It was the day I was poorly. You remember when I wet my knickers and Jenny brought me home.”

  Biddy cackled. “I’ll get you for this, and you can forget all about your friend Jenny. If she hasn’t already gone, she soon will be.”

  Sarah banged on the table with her fist. “That’s not true. She wouldn’t go without saying goodbye. She’s my friend. My very best friend.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. She can’t stand the sight of you. You’re the very reason she’s going. Nobody likes you, you little fool. Not a single soul.”

  Sarah didn’t believe Biddy, even though the words hurt. Lots of people liked her. Andy and Ada for starters. Hadn’t Andy got Sarah the job in Malone’s and wasn’t Ada always telling her what a good help she was? Then there was that nice Walter Pudsley. Even when Sarah had been sick all over him, he had held on to her so she wouldn’t fall. And he had come to see her in hospital and brought a lovely bunch of flowers as well as a pink nightie with roses round the collar that he said was from the staff and some customers at the Hare and Hounds.

  And what about that nice Lottie Mellville who had been in the hospital bed next to Sarah’s. Lottie hadn’t liked Sarah at first, which was the way it was with a lot of people when they first met her. But later, they had become best friends. She wore a lot of makeup and curled her hair every morning, as if she expected someone to visit her. But nobody ever came. Not a soul. When Lottie sometimes cried in the night from the pain in her broken leg, Sarah climbed out of her own bed and sat with her. They had held hands and whispered stories to each other until Lottie finally dropped off to sleep.

  Then there was Dr. Hall. He had put an arm round Sarah and explained things to her in front of Biddy. He told Sarah she much keep a daily record of how much she drank, how often she went to the toilet, and to always check her urine for blood. He had even got cross with Biddy for not paying attention when he was showing Sarah how to press a thumb against her ankles to check for swelling. If a dent stayed where Sarah’s thumb had been, he wanted to know about it. He had arranged for her to go to the village clinic twice a week to have her blood checked. Surely the doctor wouldn’t go to all that trouble if he didn’t like her. He had even taped a copy to the fridge of good things to eat.

  Best of all though was Jenny. When Sarah had asked her if she’d help out in the shop, she had said yes straightaway. And they had only known each other for just such little while. She called Sarah a pumpkin and had even gone with her in the ambulance to hospital. You’d have to think an awful lot of someone to go to all that trouble. Biddy was fibbing again. Jenny would never leave without saying goodbye.

  Sarah washed her bowl and placed it in the drainer. While she busied herself in the kitchen, out of the corner of her eye, she watched Biddy try to light another cigarette. Her hand shook and the flame jiggled until she held the lighter steady with two hands. She took a long drag and stared at a snapshot she had propped up against the sugar bowl. Every time Sarah had walked behind her chair to take a peek, Biddy had turned the picture face down on the table.

  Something was very wrong with Biddy. Here it was, two o’clock in the afternoon, and she was still in her dirty dressing gown. She hardly ever combed her hair any more or even put her teeth in. When Mummy and Daddy were alive, Biddy had been nicer. Back then, friends came to visit. Daddy had been an artist and some of his paintings sold for a lot of money. All the rooms in the house had their doors open, with the sun streaming through the windows. When Sarah tried hard she could still smell the furniture polish mingling with the scent of flowers from the garden. Now though, every door was closed except for the lounge and kitchen, and even they smelled of Biddy’s cigarettes and mother’s milk, as well as a funny smell, like old stuff. Worst of all, Sarah was all alone with Biddy, and didn’t know what she was going to do.

  She pulled out a chair and sat across from Biddy at the table. “Who’s on the snapshot?” she asked, trying to make friends as well as see the picture. “Can I see it?”

  “No.”

  Sarah got up a
nd went to the window when she heard the unmistakable sound of tires on the gravel outside. Thank heavens. Somebody was coming to see them.

  “It’s Andy.” she said, her breath coming out in a rush. “And, oh, Biddy, you’ll never guess who’s with him. It’s Dr. Thorne. Good old Dr. Thorne. He’s come home.”

  Biddy stuck the snapshot in her pocket and pushed her chair back with such force it toppled over. She left it there as she joined Sarah at the window. “What the hell is he doing here. He’s not due back for another month.”

  Sarah opened the kitchen door as Dr. Thorne stepped out of the car and headed for the house. Andy stuck his head out of the car window and yelled he’d be back in a few minutes, then circled the drive and drove off.

  Biddy looked around for the glass that held her teeth but remembered it was upstairs in her bedroom. Too late now. Dr. Thorne was coming through the door.

  Angus’s gaze swept the room, not missing the half-empty gin bottle near the sink, and five or six cigarette ends in the ashtray on the kitchen table. Biddy stood in the middle of the floor, toothless, her hair like a bird’s nest. Even with the day half gone, she was still in a robe that he’d bet a pound hadn’t seen soap and water for a year or more. His heart softened when he looked at Sarah. She wore a spotless long-sleeved pale blue dress, her fine light hair was clean and combed neatly to the side. But he didn’t miss the yellow cast to her skin, the puffiness in the face, her red-rimmed eyes, as if she’d been crying. She beamed up at him in her funny timid way, so obviously happy to see him.

  “So, how’s my best girl?” he asked. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her away from him. “Let me get a good look at you.”

  “I’m trying to get better as fast as I can, aren’t I, Biddy?” she said, avoiding Biddy’s eyes.

  “Yes love.” Biddy put her arm round Sarah’s waist. “We’re doing all we can to make this pretty girl good as good as new.”

  Dr. Thorne ran his hand along the handle of the fruit basket. “Where did this come from?”

  Sarah straightened the huge pink bow tied onto the basket’s handle. “It’s from Ada, Andy and Jenny. You’ve got to meet Jenny, Dr. Thorne. She came all the way from America by herself.”

  “An American, ay,” Dr. Thorne said, avoiding Biddy’s eyes. “I can’t wait to meet her, especially if she’s a friend of yours.”

  Without asking he opened the fridge and looked inside. “So, what’s this, Biddy? TV dinners, frozen pizza, hamburgers? You used to be a nurse and should know better. He closed the fridge and rapped the chart with his knuckles. “Check the list, Biddy. Check the list. All the good foods are on the left. See, starches, pasta, rice, bread and marshmallows or jelly beans if Sarah craves something sweet. There are fruits too. Strawberries, apples, some tinned fruits. I can’t stress too strongly that dairy products are bad for her. No milk, cheese, chocolates, and no junk food.”

  “We know, we know,” Sarah said with a little nervous laugh. “I’ve just had apples and strawberries out of the basket and I’m taking my medicine.”

  There was the soft beep of a car horn and Angus looked out the window. “Andy’s back. He had a couple of tires to deliver. Sarah, why don’t you keep him company outside for a bit. It’s a beautiful day. Biddy and I can sit here and natter over a cup of coffee.”

  Andy stood with his hands on his hips halfway between his car and the house as he watched Sarah open the door and walk toward him. He and his uncle had planned it all beforehand. He was to keep Sarah occupied while his Uncle weighed up Biddy. Less than an hour ago, his Uncle had told him about the twins born to an unmarried American woman, one healthy and one with Down syndrome. When he’d handed Jenny’s portrait to Andy and said she was the long-lost twin, a two hundred-watt bulb switched on in Andy’s head. All these years his uncle had never said one word about Sarah being one of the twins born to an American, or the complicated will left by the Fitzgeralds. It was a pact, his uncle told Andy. However, since Jenny now knew the whole story, it wouldn’t hurt to tell Andy. It was just a matter of time before the whole village knew.

  Andy stared across the fields. Did all this mean he still stood a chance with Jenny? He remembered the day she’d stepped off the train, looking all lost and lonely yet obviously trying to appear worldly. But it wasn’t until the day he’d found her on the bench outside the Hare, her eyes full of tears, that he realized he loved her. Now, for what had to be at least the tenth time, he thought about that evening. How he’d held her in his arms and she’d wept on his shoulder as she told him of the recent deaths of her parents. Then later, from their table in the restaurant, they’d watched the sun set behind the fells. They’d strolled by the lake and talked as if they’d known each other for ages. And he hadn’t imagined that look she gave him when she told him he was nice. After he’d let her out at the cottage, he thought about her all night long and couldn’t wait to be with her again. But the next day she’d stunned him by telling him to back off.

  Yesterday, he’d finally convinced himself he was giving up too easily, and gone into Malone’s to ask her for a date. She had her things all over the counter, wouldn’t even give him the time of day, so he’d pretended he needed light bulbs. Then out of nowhere, and of all people, Prissy Smith comes floating in, acting as if they’d never split, even talking about sheets and things. Was she crazy?

  Sarah was tugging at his sleeve. “Andy? Why don’t you answer me?”

  “Sorry. I was miles away. What did you say?”

  “Biddy said Jenny’s leaving.” She grabbed both his arms and stared up at him. “We’ve got to stop her, Andy.”

  “I saw her in the village this morning,” he said. “Didn’t look like she was leaving to me.”

  “She’s my very best friend. Andy. Please don’t let her get away.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll fix it,” he said, more to himself than to Sarah. “We’ll get her back. Just trust me.”

  “But you didn’t even know she’s leaving. I thought you loved her.”

  “What an imagination you’ve got. I hardly know her.”

  She reached for his hand. “But you do love her don’t you? Please marry her, Andy. Have some babies. Have five or ten, just to be on the safe side. If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me. Jenny would never be able to leave if she’s got you and a houseful of babies. And I can be their nanny.”

  He smiled down at her. “You paint a pretty picture, Sarah. But a girl like Jenny wouldn’t be interested in me.”

  “Why? What do you mean?”

  “I’m just an ordinary guy who fixes clocks and owns a garage tucked up here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “This isn’t the middle of nowhere,” Sarah said. “People come from all over just to see it. Daddy told me.”

  The seat that wrapped around the dead tree was faded now, paint peeling off, but still a nice place to sit, a good spot to remember the old days. They leaned back and stared up at the sky, watched the hawk hovering overhead, wings quivering. Suddenly it folded its wings against its sides and dived straight down, finally disappearing behind a hedge bordering the field beyond.

  “Do you think birds and other animals get kidney problems and stuff.”

  “Probably,” Andy said, having no idea. “They get lots of things we do.”

  Sarah looked down at her shoes as she scuffed them in the gravel. “Doctors can’t do everything. Even if they fix my kidneys, I’ll still be different. I’ll never be like everybody else.”

  Andy put an arm across her shoulders. “Ah, be proud, Sarah. Look how far you’ve come from the little girl I used to push on that swing there.”

  Angus Thorne looked through the window at Andy and Sarah while he waited for Biddy to dress. Eventually she came downstairs, hair combed, teeth in, and wearing a fairly clean dress.

  “Beverly Pender’s daughter came to see me this morning,” he said. “Can you believe it, her turning up after all this time.” He folded his arms and leaned against the fridge, pret
ending not to notice Biddy’s face turn the color of old parchment or the muscles in her jaw twitch, as she pulled out a chair and flopped into it. “I could hardly believe it myself,” he said, “but in she walks, into Malone’s. She said she’d already met you. Told me all about you saying you recognized her from a portrait her mother had sent to a doctor, then later said you’d got mixed up, case of mistaken identity. Why did you say that? You knew damn good and well it was her.”

  Biddy stared at the floor.

  “Ah, but Jennifer Robinson is the very last person you’d want to see,” Angus said. “Isn’t that right?”

  “Easy for you to say.” Biddy ground the words out. “You with your paid-up house, God knows how much money in the bank, and that fancy place you’ve got in France. What do you care about the likes of me, me who’s hung on here for years looking after Sarah. Then, at the last minute the long-lost twin turns up. Oh, she acts so bloody innocent, but she’s not fooling me. She’s here to cheat me out of everything.”

  Angus shoved his glasses to the top of his head. “Whether you believe it or not, Jenny was flabbergasted when I told her Sarah was her twin. You can fake a lot of things, but not turning white as a sheet. It was as if, as if she didn’t want any part of it. Even when I told her about the will, she brushed it off, then said she had to go, couldn’t get out of the house fast enough.”

  Biddy nodded, her mouth opening as if she was about to say something, then she pursed her lips and turned away.

  Angus stuck his hands in his pockets as he weighed the woman up, then slowly, deliberately, looked around the kitchen. “I don’t want you smoking in this house, Biddy. If you feel you can’t live without one, go outside. And get rid of the gin. This place smells like a brewery. Sarah’s got nephritis and I don’t have to tell you how serious that is.”

  Biddy thumped the table with her fist. “Sarah, bloody Sarah. That’s all I ever hear. Even in the night I hear it. Whispering voices coming from out there”