by Maria Hoey
“Is that me or you?” said Rosemary, as a phone beeped.
“Me, I think.” I pulled my phone from my bag – another text from Dominic – I shoved it back in. “Nobody important,” I said.
“Damn,” said Rosemary, who had been rummaging in the recesses of her own bag. “I’ve forgotten my phone. I must have left it on the table in the kitchen when I was talking to Grace.”
“Well, don’t worry,” I said. “The kids are with Grace and Violet-May will have gone by now. Though if it will make you feel better, I can call the house and make sure everything is alright?”
“No, it’s fine,” said Rosemary. “We won’t stay long.”
But, as it turned out, she proved reluctant to broach the subject we had come there to talk about. She seemed more interested in our surroundings than anything else. At one point, I tried to lead into it but just then a runner came up behind us on silent soles and it seemed to make Rosemary jumpy. I decided it was best to let her take the lead. It was her family we were concerned with and if she needed to work up to talking about what was happening then that was her right and who was I to rush her?
We were nearing the end of the footpath and I expected that we would turn back or strike out across the grass toward the ruined castle which bounded the park on the far side, but Rosemary surprised me.
“Let’s keep on going,” she said. “You can, you know – there’s a quiet spot beyond that turnstile thing with a bench where we can sit and talk in privacy.”
“You know about the Pool?” I had not expected that she would – the Duffs had left the town when she was only nine and the Duff girls had never been let wander freely as most of the children from our estate had back then in the eighties.
“Robbie brought us all here to the park the week we arrived,” said Rosemary. “Caroline spotted the turnstile and wanted to go through the ‘twirly gate’ as she called it and so Robbie showed us the way.”
“You’re right, it is peaceful there, and I doubt we’ll be disturbed.” I cast another look at the sky. “But, you know, I’m fairly sure it’s going to start raining any minute.”
“I don’t mind,” said Rosemary, “I like rain.” She beamed at me and once again I saw her as she had been as a little girl who conversed with fairies. “Besides, your jacket has a hood,” she said. “And the sooner we start talking the better. You know, about stuff.”
And so I agreed and we passed through the turnstile in single file. It had been a wet enough summer and the grass here was overgrown. With no sunlight spilling through the overhanging tree branches it was quite dim there too that day, a dim and gloomy place to talk about terrible things, I remember thinking – not at all the sort of place I would have thought would appeal to sunny Rosemary. But I supposed the sun had been shining when they had come here and I smiled inwardly at the sudden vision I had of Oliver riding high on Robbie’s shoulders, and Caroline chattering excitedly no doubt as she negotiated the “twirly gate”. But there was no sunshine today, no dappled light through the branches and no excited children either. I made straight for the bench which, although wooden, weather-bleached and very much the worse for wear, was still sturdy enough.
We sat down next to one another and for a moment we were silent. It was as quiet there as I remembered it being when I was a child. The Pool had always been curiously quiet. Probably, I decided, something to do with the way the trees enclosed it, nothing more. I gazed at the water. Since I had last been there, the trees had become even more entwined and the river threw back their reflection in watery green. The wind had lessened now and the water looked quite still, but that was the thing about the Pool, the water always looked still at first glance, then you noticed those tiny movements on the surface. And suddenly I had a mental picture of my father sitting on this very bench next to me as he told me about the simmering and how deep the water of the Pool was and how treacherous. And I remembered too Ken Fitzgerald telling me about the drowning boy and how the reeds had wrapped themselves about his face and neck like giant green spaghetti – and I shivered.
Rosemary noticed the shiver because she turned to me suddenly with a thoughtful expression on her face. “You don’t like it here, do you, Kay?”
“Not particularly,” I said.
“I do. It’s pretty and it’s peaceful – even the water looks peaceful. A good place to swim, I think.”
“I don’t swim,” I said.
“Yes, I know – you told us about your father’s attempts to teach you. Silly girl! It’s so easy.”
I glanced at her, feeling that was unkind – my cowardice about swimming was a sore point with me. But she was gazing at the water, smiling her usual serene smile.
“And even if I could,” I said, “I wouldn’t swim here. It might look peaceful but it isn’t safe.”
“Is it not?” said Rosemary. “What a shame, when it looks so pretty. The children loved it here, that day we came here with Robbie. You thought I should have brought them with me today, didn’t you, Kay? I could see it in your eyes.”
I had been so far away in my mind that I was taken completely by surprise and I am sure my face showed it.
“No,” I said quickly. “It wasn’t that. I was just expecting them to be in the car, that was all. But it’s fine, they’re perfectly safe with Grace, of course they are. Please don’t think I’m judging you, Rosemary. I wasn’t and I have no right to.”
“Yes, perfectly safe,” said Rosemary. “Alexander was fast asleep when I left. At least he seemed to be asleep but you never can tell with him.”
I felt a small chill creep over me; it was the third time she had made that mistake in my hearing. I had let it go before but for no reason I could put into words I could not let it go again.
“Not Alexander,” I said gently. “Oliver.”
“What?” Rosemary, who had been staring at the water, turned and looked at me.
“You said ‘Alexander’, Rosemary. But it was Oliver who was asleep when you left, not Alexander.”
Slowly, Rosemary’s eyes widened and when she spoke it was a whisper.
“You’ve seen it too,” she said. “I thought it was only me, but you’ve seen it too, Kay.”
I found her stare unsettling. “What have I seen, Rosemary? I don’t know what you mean.”
“But you do know, Kay, you do. You’ve seen it just like I have. Alexander and Oliver – they’re the same.”
“Oh, you mean the resemblance,” I said, and I remember feeling uncomfortable because I had of course noticed the likeness between Rosemary’s son and her dead brother.
“No,” said Rosemary, frowning. “I don’t mean a resemblance, it’s much more than that. He’s come back. I know it and you know it too.
“Who’s come back, Rosemary?” I asked but certain now that I already knew what her answer would be.
“Alexander of course,” said Rosemary. “Alexander’s come back.”
“What do you mean, Rosemary? How could Alexander have come back?” My voice surprised me in its evenness because in reality the chill I had felt had become a shiver that snaked the length of my spine.
“Oh, but he has,” said Rosemary. “I saw it in his eyes the day he was born, the very first moment they handed him to me.”
“You saw what in his eyes?”
“That it was Alexander of course.” Rosemary looked at me as though she thought I was perhaps a little slow. “The truth of course is that I never wanted babies. That was all Justin’s idea. Justin wanted a son so badly. I shouldn’t have had any and I did hold out for as long as I could but in the end I gave in. But instead of a son we got Caroline and Justin loved her and, after all, everything was fine. Because I won’t lie, Kay, I’d been worried.”
“Why were you worried, Rosemary?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Rosemary. “Because Caroline was such a pretty baby and she hardly ever cried. I wouldn’t even have minded taking care of her myself, really I wouldn’t. But Justin said we should have
a nanny so we did. Grace came even before the baby did. I knew it was really Violet-May’s idea, I heard her talking to Justin, telling him I should have some help with the baby. She told Mummy the same thing – she just wouldn’t mind her own business. Inviting herself to stay at our house even before Caroline was born and then afterwards refusing to go away. She stayed for ages and ages, until she was sure that it was alright, I think.”
“Until she was sure that what was alright?”
“Well, she was watching me of course, and she kept on watching me until she was sure that Caroline was safe.”
“Why wouldn’t Caroline be safe, Rosemary?” I heard the small tremor in my voice but in any event Rosemary was not listening.
“But it was different with the boy,” she said. “It was quite different and that was how I guessed even before he was born. I couldn’t be sure but then Justin had that terrible accident and then I knew I was right. He made Justin die, the boy did. I suppose it was because Justin was the only person who would never believe anything bad of me, who would always protect me. And so I knew then that I had to get ready. Violet-May had come to stay again and Mummy too. I told them I didn’t need them, I had Grace to help me, but Violet-May just said that I was in shock and didn’t know what I needed. But I knew what she was up to, and then the boy was born and I saw his eyes watching me and it was him, the other one, come back to torment me, to trick me and punish me.”
“Oh Rosemary,” I said gently, “don’t you see that you’ve got things a bit mixed up? Why would Alexander want to punish you?”
“Don’t you know?” Rosemary turned her gaze on me and her eyes narrowed. “Violet-May knew and Robbie too. He wanted to punish me for what I’d done to him, of course. And so it all began again, everyone watching me, trying to trick me and catch me out. ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’ they said, and ‘What will you call him?’ they said. But I was too clever for them. ‘Oliver,’ I said. ‘His name is Oliver after Justin’s father.’ And so we called him Oliver but I knew who he was really.”
“You say that Alexander wanted to punish you because of what you’d done to him,” I said slowly. “What did you do to Alexander, Rosemary?”
“Oh, come on, Kay,” said Rosemary. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand.” She smiled at me but it was a sly sort of smile and I instinctively drew myself back a little, increasing the space between us on the bench.
“But I don’t understand, Rosemary. What had you done to Alexander?”
Rosemary stopped smiling. “You know, Kay, you’re really not a good liar, are you? And all this playing dumb doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m not playing dumb, Rosemary,” I said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about and, if you don’t mind, it’s starting to rain and I’d much rather ...”
The truth was that I had an awful suspicion I did know what she was talking about, and while I was speaking I had made a move to get up.
Rosemary took me by surprise, reaching out suddenly and pulling me down roughly onto the bench once more, so roughly that, startled as I was, I was really surprised that anyone so frail-looking could have so much strength.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I said angrily.
I tried to push her off, but she had somehow pinned me in, her body leaning across mine, both arms forcing me back against the bench. “Let me go, you’re hurting me, Rosemary!”
“But we need to talk, Kay. You said so yourself, you said we needed to talk about what happened on the bridge that day. That was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about anything like this,” I said and I struggled against the weight of her arms.
“Then don’t try to run away again,” said Rosemary.
“I wasn’t trying to run away,” I said.
“Well, that’s alright then,” said Rosemary. She took her hands from my shoulders and sat back on the bench next to me, but I sensed that she was primed to spring should I try again to leave.
“Why should I want to run away?” I asked.
“Why indeed, when it was you who said we need to talk about what happened? Except that we already know what happened, don’t we, Kay? I know and you know and Violet-May knows.” She eyed me speculatively, “And Robbie? Robbie could never be sure before, although I think he suspected, because of the dog ...”
“What about the dog? “ I said, bewildered now. “What dog?”
“Oh didn’t you know?” said Rosemary. “Robbie’s dog, Prince. I was sure Robbie would have told you. He died. I put rat poison in his dish and he died. Robbie guessed it was me who did it.” She smiled at me. “It wasn’t hard, you know. The worst part was getting hold of the rat poison. I knew where Dad kept it on the top shelf in one of the sheds but I couldn’t reach it. I had to get the little stepladder from one of the other outhouses and to drag it across to the shed where the rat poison was kept. It wasn’t heavy, but I was afraid that someone would see me. But nobody did. And then I didn’t know how much to use, how much would be enough. So I used a lot and, well, it was enough. But Robbie knew it was me. He never told me outright that he knew, but he let me know in other ways. And I’d catch him looking at me, watching me with a look in his eyes. It was the same look you have right now, Kay.”
She was smiling at me, a terrifying smile, and I was torn between the urge to get up and run and the compulsion to hear her out.
“But why?” I said.
“Why did I poison Robbie’s dog?” Rosemary frowned. “Because I wanted a kitten, that’s why,” she said in a tone of sweet reasonableness which even if I live to be two hundred years old, I will never be able to forget. “And besides, Violet-May was always saying she wished the dog was dead. But you can’t trust Violet-May, because as soon as I made him die, she went and changed her mind and acted all sad about it. You know, Kay, I really was sure that Robbie would have told you all this. But perhaps he knew that no one would believe him.” She turned her dazzling smile on me again, “I mean, would you believe that I could poison a poor helpless dog? But Robbie believed it and I suppose that’s why he guessed about Alexander too.”
“Alexander?” I echoed and discovered that my mouth was almost dry. “What did Robbie guess about Alexander?”
“You know,” said Rosemary. “What I did to him on the bridge that day, Bone Bridge. Do you remember, Kay, how you told us all about how the bridge got its name? How they found a big grave with the bones of all those people – ”
“What did you do on the bridge that day, Rosemary?” I demanded and she stopped smiling.
“Why are you still pretending, Kay?” she said. “You know exactly what I did to Alexander, you’ve always known.”
“No,” I said. “No, that was Violet-May. You know it was, Rosemary, and I know too because I was there and I ...” I stopped, conscious that I had almost blurted out what I had kept inside for so very long.
I saw Rosemary’s eyes which were fixed on my face flash in triumph.
“I knew you knew,” she said. “I could see it on your face. Afterwards I kept waiting for you to tell someone, your mother or that policewoman who pretended she was so kind when all she wanted to do was trick us. I could never understand why you kept it to yourself when you knew all the time that it was me.” Her eyes narrowed and she said, much quieter now, “You know, you really should have told someone what you saw, Kay.”
I shivered as though a shadow had crossed the invisible sun. “I didn’t see anything,” I said. “I just heard, that’s all, and even then I didn’t know anything for sure. Or at least if I did, I put it out of my mind.”
“No, no, no, no, no, Kay.” Rosemary, still smiling, was wagging her finger like some awful parody of a disapproving nanny. “Now we both know that isn’t true, don’t we?”
“But I heard her. I heard Violet-May and she was pleading with you, begging you to say it was an accident. And I knew then whatever she’d done she’d done it on purpose. It was Violet-May, it had to be, it had to be ...”
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“Stop it,” said Rosemary, her voice suddenly hard and peremptory. “It was me and you know it was me. You’ve always known it, just like you’ve always known that it wasn’t an accident, that I did it on purpose.”
For a moment I stared at her in silence. I knew there wasn’t any point in arguing with her anymore just as I knew now that what she was telling me was true.
“Why, Rosemary?” I said. “Why would you do that to that beautiful little boy?”
“I told you, I wanted a kitten,” said Rosemary, sullen now. “I thought after the dog died I could have one, but that didn’t work out because of the baby. But nobody wanted the baby, even Mummy said so once, I heard her ...”
“But that was before he came!” I was almost screaming now and I was crying, I knew I was crying, tears making Rosemary’s face blur before my eyes. “And whatever she said, she didn’t mean it. How could you believe she meant it?”
