On Bone Bridge

by Maria Hoey

  I had done this a couple of times when I saw a flash of blue and knew I was seeing Violet-May’s dress. In the same moment I realised that the screaming had stopped and I remember thinking that perhaps everything was alright. Perhaps Violet-May had had a tantrum but it was all over now or maybe Rosemary-June had been stung by a bee – there were still some around because the weather was so good. As I peered through the hedge I could not see Rosemary-June at all. And it was Violet-May’s voice that I could hear, not screaming now, but still high-pitched and hysterical. But for all that, I knew for certain then that something bad had happened after all. At the same moment I spotted the gap in the hedge and I flung myself through it, not caring if I ripped my clothes or my hair got pulled out or if I tore my skin to pieces. As I burst through, it was Rosemary-June I saw first: she was standing facing me, staring right at me, her eyes wide with an expression in them that I had never seen there before. Behind her Violet-May was running from one end of the bridge to the other, all the time making horrible little whimpering sounds. Every few seconds she would stop to lean over the wall as though looking for something in the water and then off she would go again.

  “What’s she doing?” I pleaded with Rosemary-June. “What’s wrong, why were you screaming?”

  “Alexander,” said Rosemary-June.

  That was all she said and her voice was barely a whisper and her eyes stayed fixed on my face and something about them made me suddenly very afraid.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I said but she still didn’t answer me.

  I ran across the road to where the pram stood, its hood still up, the yellow-and-white blanket spilling out over the side, one corner touching the ground. And, although I somehow knew before I looked inside that there would be no red-faced baby in his bright-red romper suit lying there, seeing his blue rattle and the empty space where he should have been made me so afraid that I began to tremble.

  I looked at Violet-May and she was still running up and down and making that terrible whimpering sound.

  “Where is he?” I called. “Violet-May, where’s Alexander?”

  When she did not answer me, I called her name again, and this time it was a scream.

  “Violet-May! Tell me what’s happened to Alexander!”

  She stopped running then and when she looked at me I saw the terror in her wild, wet eyes.

  “He’s in the river,” she said. And then, as though she was realising for the first time not just who I was but that I was there at all, she said, “It was an accident, Kay – Alexander fell in the river, but it was an accident. I can’t find him, Kay – he’s in the river but I can’t find him. Please help me find him, Kay, please help me find Alexander.”

  And that was when Rosemary-June began to scream again.

  Chapter 11

  They found Alexander’s body snagged in the branches of a tree. The current had swept him downriver for almost three hundred yards. The guards who found him tried to resuscitate him but failed and he was taken to the nearest hospital where he was pronounced dead on arrival. I found out about all of this in the days afterwards from listening to what people were saying and also from the television.

  “What’s a post-mortem?” I asked once and my mother, who had not realised that I was standing in the doorway watching the news because she was too busy crying, jumped in her chair then shot to her feet and turned the television off.

  “You shouldn’t be listening to that, Kay,” she told me.

  From the beginning her coping mechanism was one of denial. Not that it had happened – because Alexander was dead and she could not get away from that fact – but denial that any of it had anything to do with me. Unlike the police who had asked me and Violet-May and Rosemary-June a lot of questions over and over again, my mother asked me only once if I had seen what had happened to Alexander. When I told her I had not, that I had been in the field looking for nuts and come back to find the pram empty, she never questioned me again about what had happened that day.

  She was there of course, the day Alexander died, when we were taken to the local police station and questioned, and she sat with my father and Mr Duff all in a row against the wall. I remember thinking that Mr Duff looked older somehow. Mrs Duff was not there and I heard Mr Duff tell my mother that she had been sedated. I did not know what sedated meant.

  My mother told Mr Duff that my father should be in his bed as he’d had a scare to which my father said, “Never mind that now, Liz.”

  We were questioned by a policewoman who was wearing a uniform and a man who was not. They sat on one side of the table and Violet-May and I sat facing them on the other side with Rosemary-June in the middle. There was a box of paper hankies on the table and I wondered if they were going to make us cry. I already wanted to cry anyway, every time I thought about the empty pram. But they were very kind to us, right from the beginning, and the policewoman smiled at us and told us we were not in trouble. She put a can of Fanta Orange down in front of each of us and said that her name was Fidelma. I remember thinking that I liked the name Fidelma, that it would have been nice to put it on my list of names. But I knew I never would now because it would always remind me of Alexander. Rosemary-June opened her can straight away and I remember the rasping sound of the ring-pull and the noise in her throat as she drank.

  Fidelma sat down and opened her notebook and picked up a pen. She told us the man was a detective and that they would need to ask us a lot of questions because it was very important that they be clear about what had happened. She said that all we had to do was tell the truth and then our parents could take us home. I looked over my shoulder at my mother and she was smiling at me. Fidelma said that the first thing they needed to know was what we were doing on the bridge in the first place and why we had the baby with us.

  I told her how the plan to pick hazelnuts had been cancelled because of my father feeling sick, how I had gone for a walk past Violet-May’s house and met her and Rosemary-June.

  “They were minding Alexander,” I said, “because Mrs Duff needed a lie-down.”

  Talking about Alexander made me feel upset and I began to cry. Fidelma gave me a paper hanky and asked me if I needed to take a break. I said I was alright and she asked if I would like to have a drink of my orange, and when I nodded she opened the can for me and I drank some.

  After a while she asked me if I was alright to tell her some more now and I said I was. So I carried on telling her what I remembered.

  “Violet-May said why couldn’t we go for hazelnuts ourselves but I’m not allowed to go in the woods by myself so I told her about the copse at Bone Bridge.”

  When I said that, I saw my father lean forward in his chair and put his head into his hands.

  I continued, “I thought we’d find some nuts there but when I got there I could hardly find any – the squirrels must have eaten them.”

  “So you walked along Old Road to Bone Bridge?” Fidelma prompted me.

  “Yes. Rosemary-June wanted to come too so we all walked down together.”

  “Did many cars pass as you were walking down Old Road?”

  “A few, I think, but I only remember a red car.”

  “Alright, so what happened when you got to the bridge then, Kay?”

  “Kay wasn’t on the bridge when the accident happened,” said my mother. “I’ve already told you that a few times now. She was in the field looking for hazelnuts just like she said.”

  “Mrs Kelly,” said the detective, “if you could let Kay tell us in her own words what happened, please.”

  “Tell them where you were, Kay,” said my mother. “Tell them you were in the field.”

  “I was in the field,” I said.

  “Mrs Kelly,” said the detective.

  “Liz,” said my father and my mother made a sound in her nose and tossed her head not unlike the way I had seen horses do.

  “Tell us about what happened before you went into the field to get the nuts, Kay,” said Fidelma.

  �
��Nothing happened,” I said. “Rosemary-June was hungry so I gave her my blackberries. Then I went to get the nuts in the field.”

  “And what did Violet-May and Rosemary-June do?”

  “They stayed on the bridge,.” I said.

  “And where was Alexander?”

  “In his pram. Rosemary-June was pushing him so he wouldn’t start crying again.”

  “Where was Violet-May?”

  “She was leaning over the bridge looking at something in the water.”

  Fidelma looked at Violet-May, “What was in the water, Violet-May?”

  “A stick,” said Violet-May, her voice sulky. “I threw in a stick to see how long it took to go under the bridge.”

  “OK,” said Fidelma. “So you went into the field, you say, Kay. Which field is that?”

  “The field with the hazelnut copse,” I said. “It’s beside the river and you get in through a gap in the hedge.”

  I looked down at the scrapes on my hands. There was one big scape on my left hand and two small ones – the right hand had two middle-sized scrapes.

  “The pram wouldn’t fit and anyway Violet-May didn’t want to tear her dress so she stayed on the bridge with Rosemary-June and ... and Alexander.”

  “How long were you gone looking for the nuts, Kay?” said Fidelma.

  “I don’t know.”

  “She was gone ages,” said Violet-May suddenly.

  Her voice sounded sulky and I turned to look at her, but she was looking down at her arm and fiddling with the beads of a white-and-yellow bracelet. I sat back thinking with a shock that she had made it sound somehow like what had happened had been my fault. The idea made me feel a little bit sick.

  “I ran back when I heard the screaming,” I gasped, “but I couldn’t find the gap in the hedge, I couldn’t find it for ages and ages. And then I found it and I climbed through but the pram was empty and Alexander was gone.”

  When Fidelma spoke again I didn’t hear what she said, and she had to repeat her question. She was asking if I had heard anything or seen anything while I was in the field.

  I didn’t answer at once. I looked from Fidelma to Violet-May and this time she was looking right at me.

  “Kay?” said my father gently.

  I glanced at him. He was watching me and trying to smile.

  I looked down at my can of Fanta Orange on the table.

  “Only the screaming,” I said. “I didn’t hear anything only the screaming.”

  My mother said, “You see, it had nothing to do with Kay, she wasn’t even there.”

  “But were you there on the bridge, Kay, when the Dempsey family came by in their car and stopped?” asked Fidelma.

  The Dempseys, I remember thinking – was that who they were – that fat man with the red hair who had stopped his car on the bridge, stuck his red face out of the window and looked at us suspiciously? That woman who had got out so quickly and knelt down and put her hands on Rosemary-June’s shoulders and tried to make her stop screaming so she could understand what we were saying? Her kind worried face had changed when she realised what we were telling her and her hand had gone to her mouth as Violet-May wailed, “My brother fell into the river! Alexander fell into the river and I can’t see him, I can’t see him anymore!”

  The woman had stared at the empty pram and said, “Oh sweet Jesus, oh sweet Jesus!” Then she too was screaming, screaming at the man in the car to come and help, “Oh sweet Jesus, Peadar, hurry up, there’s a baby in the river!”

  And the fat man had cursed and climbed out of the car and leaned over the parapet of the bridge and rubbed the back of his balding head and said he couldn’t see him, Jesus Christ he couldn’t see him, and were we absolutely sure he went in there?

  And Violet-May said, “Yes, I’m sure and please, please, will you get him out?”

  And the fat man said, “How the fuck am I supposed to get down there?”

  And the woman, crying now, said, “I don’t know, Peadar, can you jump or something? I don’t know, I don’t know ... but you have to do something, you have to, Holy Mother of God, Peadar, you have to do something!”

  And the fat man cried, “Christ Almighty, I can’t jump in there, ah fuck me, fuck me!” and he put his hand to the back of his head again and paced the length of the wall, peering down into the river.

  And all the time the small boy and girl in the back seat were watching us through the car window from big, stricken, terrified eyes.

  Fidelma said gently, “Kay? Were you there when the Dempseys came?”

  I came back to the present moment with a start.

  “Yes, I was there then,” I said. “The car came and the woman got out and Violet-May told her about Alexander and then the fat man got out to look, but he couldn’t see Alexander in the water. So I showed him how to get to the river by way of the gap in the hedge. I went with him and I watched him take off his shoes and socks and get into the water in his clothes. Then he went under the bridge and I stayed on the bank and I couldn’t see him anymore. And when I went back up onto the road two more cars had stopped and somebody went to phone the police and somebody asked us our names and a man who knew Mr Duff went to get him and then ... and then ...”

  I wasn’t sure quite what happened then. I remembered a small crowd of people had gathered on the bridge. I remembered standing staring into the river, watching the fat man flounder about as he waded downstream, his head down, staring into the water, looking I knew for Alexander. I watched him until he reached the curve of the river and then disappeared. I remembered Mr Duff arriving in his big car and the door opening and Mrs Duff almost falling out onto the road and I remembered hearing her screaming. I remembered the police coming and somewhere, at some point, the three of us being put in a car to be taken to the police station.

  And finally, I remembered looking back as the car drove us away and seeing the faces of the people staring after us: a woman with a small dog sitting at her feet, his tongue hanging out, a man in a silly-looking straw hat leaning on a walking stick, and a dark-haired girl in a bright green skirt.

  I remembered what happened when we arrived at the police station clearly and in detail though. I still do. We all three sat in a room and said nothing and did not look at one another and waited. After a while the door opened and my mother and father came in and my father knelt down and put his arms around me and told me not to worry because everything was going to be alright. My mother stood looking down at us and said nothing at all and I saw that she had a hanky in her hand and that she had been crying. After a long time Mr Duff came into the room too and Rosemary-June got up and ran to him but Violet-May stayed where she was sitting and just looked at them. Over the top of Rosemary’s head, I saw Mr Duff looking at my father and shaking his head and my mother began to cry again.

  It was Violet-May’s turn next.

  “Why did you take Alexander from his pram?” Fidelma wanted to know.

  “He wouldn’t stop crying,” said Violet-May. “I kept pushing the pram but he wouldn’t stop. So I took him out and I sat him on the wall. I thought if he could see the water it might make him stop – he likes shiny things. And I think he did like the water because he stopped crying and he waved his arms.”

  When Violet-May said that, my mother opened her bag and took out her hanky and blew her nose.

  Mr Duff got up and walked to the door and stood there with his back to us and waggled his ear furiously. Fidelma waited until he sat down again before she asked the next question.

  “And what happened then, Violet-May?”

  “Alexander slipped,” said Violet-May, “he just slipped. I was holding him, I was, but he sort of jumped and I couldn’t catch him and he slipped and he fell in the river. I could see him in the water but I couldn’t get down to him. There wasn’t any way down from the bridge. He wasn’t moving, he was just lying there with his face in the water, but it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t, it was an accident,it was just an accident!”

  I rememb
er thinking that she was going to become hysterical and I wondered what Fidelma and the detective would make of her rolling about on the police-station floor. But while I was thinking that I was also thinking something else, that if I had been there when Alexander fell I would have known the way down from the bridge. I would have gone through the gap, I would have got into the river. So what if the river was black and scummy and smelled bad? So what if I couldn’t really swim? I would have waded in. I wouldn’t even have waited to take off my shoes. I would have found Alexander and saved him, I would, I would ... if only I had been there on the bridge instead of in the field.

  “Nobody is saying it was your fault, Violet-May,” said Mr Duff, and I saw his hand stray to his ear once more.

  Fidelma nodded. “That’s right, nobody is accusing anyone here – we are just trying to establish what happened.”

  Then she turned to Rosemary-June.

  “Rosemary-June, could you tell us now what you remember, please?”

  I turned to look at Rosemary-June. She was running her finger around the rim of her Fanta can but she lifted her head and smiled at Fidelma before turning to look at Violet-May. Violet-May turned to her too and I saw the quick smile she flashed at her sister.