Crown of Stars

by Sophie Jaff

  I believe that Lucas’s “lady” is KATHERINE.

  I will explain. In the past months I have found Katherine’s behavior increasingly erratic and strange. Sometimes I would turn around and she would be standing there, just watching me. I wouldn’t even hear her come up behind me.

  When I tried to say hello or make small talk, she would grin in a way that I can only describe as menacing.

  On more than one occasion, I opened the door to Lucas’s room to find her sitting alone there in the dark. Lights off, curtains drawn. Of course she has every right to sit and stand where she wants to in her home, but something seemed unnatural about it, as if she was trying to frighten me.

  Sometimes I would refer to a conversation that we had had and she would have no recollection of it at all. She would ask me if I had seen an object she was carrying only a few minutes ago. I tried to raise this with her several times, but she would always change the subject.

  I would go downstairs to find the stove on with an empty pot on top of it. The third time this happened, I spoke with Katherine about it, telling her that I had turned the stove off and had she turned it on by mistake? She told me that she hadn’t left her room because she had been taking a nap, despite the fact that I had seen her downstairs only a short while before that.

  Another thing I began to notice was that raw meat was disappearing from the fridge. As you know, I did the food shopping after some discussion with Katherine, so I knew what was in the fridge. After this had happened a couple of times, some ground beef went missing and I asked her if it had been used to feed Cordelia. She told me that she didn’t know what I was talking about. Later on that day I was cleaning her bathroom and I found a bowl next to the sink with the remainder of the raw beef.

  One afternoon around the same time I came downstairs to make some tea and heard Cordelia growling. I was concerned, and when I went to see what she was growling at, I realized that she was growling at someone or something behind the couch. I was terrified until I saw in the mirror that hangs on the opposite wall that the person hiding was Katherine. She was crouched over with her hair hanging in her face, and I was upset but decided to ignore her. At that point I was already uncomfortable around her and I thought it might be a practical joke, albeit a bad one. I do not know if she saw me before I went upstairs again. When I came back down, she had left the house.

  I tried to rationalize everything because I have had children too and I know pregnancy can be difficult, but I was concerned about Lucas. He seemed to be more and more afraid of her. Sometimes he would even flinch when she reached out to touch him, or look anxious when she called to him.

  I had finally made up my mind to speak with you when Katherine discovered the Bible and the figurine and the crosses that I had placed in his room. I apologize for this again, but I didn’t know what else I could do to protect Lucas. I understood then that I had left it too late, and anything I said after that would not be taken seriously. I wanted to leave, but I was afraid for Lucas and did not want to abandon him.

  I did not say anything at the time of the incident with the palm crosses, knowing that I would not be believed, but I need you to know that I did not make those palm crosses, nor did I place them under Katherine’s pillow. The only explanation I can think of is that Katherine made and hid them herself. I am so sorry to have to tell you this, and even more sorry I did not come to you the moment I had my suspicions. I found myself overwhelmed and frightened and unsure of what to say.

  I only want Lucas to be happy and safe, and that is the reason I am writing to you today. I am not sure what you have been told about me, but my son James died of leukemia at the age of nine. I have come to love Lucas. He reminds me of James. But I assure you that my grief over his death is not influencing my perception of what I have seen or experienced. Although I loved my son with all my heart, he passed many years ago, and I have now learned how to live without him even though that is something I would have never thought possible before he died.

  I do not believe that Katherine is aware of what she is doing, but in my opinion that only makes her more dangerous, not just to Lucas but also possibly to you and even herself. I have come to care deeply for you and your family. I promise that I will not reach out to you again. If you wish to contact me, you have my number. But I had to let you know. I could not live with myself if I did not.

  May God bless you and keep you safe.

  Alice Bailey

  Katherine sits at the table for a long while. Then slowly, and with great deliberation, she rips up the pages. First into halves, then quarters, and then smaller and smaller, her hands moving in a frenzy, her face still. Then she gets up and gathers the pile of shredded paper and throws it in the garbage.

  She climbs up the stairs, a little smile playing on her lips as she thinks about what to pack for Wales.

  Third Trimester

  28

  Katherine

  “Now listen up, because this is important! What music does everyone want to hear? I’m taking requests. Apart from John, he’s not allowed.”

  “As the driver I call that a cheek!”

  “Darling, no one here wants to listen to Hildy.”

  “Hildy?” Katherine asks.

  “That’s what Matthew calls her, Hildegard von Bingen,” John explains. “A medieval abbess, very powerful—”

  “Yes, yes, very meaningful.” Matthew sighs. “The gist is that she had migraines, and wrote a bunch of trippy poetry that she set to music. It’s fine for two seconds and then you want to kill yourself.”

  “I wasn’t going to suggest her anyway,” John says coldly.

  “Liar! Who were you planning to suggest?”

  John opens his mouth, pauses, closes it again.

  “I thought so. All right, I have the Beatles, Amy Winehouse, Ella Fitzgerald, Elton John—my God, what’s that old queen doing here? Stone Roses, Rolling Stones, Bach’s Goldberg Variations . . . Katherine?”

  “I don’t know, they all sound great.” She’s not about to insert herself into a contentious conversation that has been clearly going on for years.

  “Useless.” Matthew twists farther around in his seat. “Lucas, you’re our last hope. Who would you like to hear?

  “Elton John.” Lucas is firm.

  Matthew looks surprised, but manages to recover. “Then Elton John it is. May I ask why?”

  “Because he’s a queen.”

  John and Katherine giggle. Now Matthew is the one who is speechless.

  “What?” Lucas turns to her, almost angry. “He did say that.”

  “You’re right, honey, he did.” She reaches over and kisses the top of his head. He doesn’t wriggle away like he has been doing in the past few weeks. Like his holding her hand at the fair, this is a victory.

  In the rearview mirror, Matthew meets her eyes and winks. No need to look so smug, she thinks, but she winks back. Maybe a change of scenery is what they needed, after all.

  Wales is green.

  Wales is rolling hills rising into mountains and then undulating down again.

  Wales is winding footpaths and cobbled streets and flowering hedgerows. Wales has smaller roads, which Matthew and John negotiate flawlessly. They talk and laugh softly in the front while Katherine and Lucas nap in the back. It feels like the kind of family trip Katherine longed for growing up.

  I am happy again, she realizes. The farther they travel from London, the lighter she becomes, as if she is shedding all the troubles and worries that have been weighing her down.

  In the last of the sunlight, they drive up a small road that seems barely fit for one car, ending up on a quiet street lined by a row of pretty houses that face the sea.

  “It’s the Irish Sea,” John tells them.

  “I thought we were in Wales?” Lucas turns to Katherine.

  She shrugs. “I don’t get it either, babe.”

  The bed-and-breakfast is run by a pleasant woman called Sue, a former teacher who still has that firm, smiling air
of authority as she shows them around the house. Their rooms have a strong pine theme, with old pine chests and old pine beds, flawlessly made, and framed illustrations of birds upon the pine-paneled walls. The bathrooms are impeccable, and there are heated railings where you can hang up your towels. Out of the windows, in the distance, Katherine can see small white sailboats cresting upon the water, and even farther out in the other direction, gentle mountains dip and rise. After they unpack, they wander down the road to the main stretch of the village. It’s early evening and already very quiet.

  There’s a small restaurant nestled among the white houses with the dark beams. They order fresh fish-and-chips, whiting with tartar sauce. Everyone has huge appetites. Meandering slowly back along the pier, they take in the evening’s hues of blue and purple and lavender. Gulls cry far above them as they breathe in the salty air.

  “I like it here.” Lucas takes Katherine’s hand.

  “Me too!”

  Full and sleepy, they are soon safe under the crisp white sheets. Katherine falls into a deep and dreamless sleep. The light slanting in through the windows wakes her, and she lies for just a moment longer, content to think about the day ahead and listening to the footsteps of the other guests. Sue has prepared a fully cooked English breakfast, sausage and bacon and eggs and toast. Katherine and Matthew have tea, and John has coffee, and Lucas has orange juice. The orange juice is freshly squeezed, and white porcelain bowls filled with fresh fruit and cereal sit atop a red-and-white tablecloth.

  “Food always tastes nicer when somebody else makes it,” announces Matthew.

  The first castle is only a short amble from the B&B. The roads are quiet—it’s early in the season. They walk past pale pastel houses, neatly parked cars, and old people sitting out in the sun, already eating ice cream.

  After they collect their castle passes, they stroll past the clothing shops and teashops and finally, finally . . .

  “The castle!” Lucas is very excited. “Look, Kat, there’s a moat! A moat!” He squeezes her arm and stares at the green body of water. “Do you think there are alligators and sharks in there?”

  “Absolutely.” She ruffles his hair. “So don’t fall in!”

  Over the drawbridge and through the main arch, the keep of the castle squats on velvety green manicured grass. Together they gaze at the moss-streaked, weatherworn stone walls soaring above them.

  “Do you ever wonder what it would have been like to live here?” John asks her.

  She nods. “All the time.”

  Matthew and Lucas have gone ahead.

  “Be careful!” she calls.

  “We will!”

  “Shall we climb the battlements?” Katherine suggests to John.

  Cut deep into the walls, the stone staircase spirals a little steeply, but it’s not hard.

  “Is this all right?” He glances at her stomach, concerned.

  “It’s fine.” She holds on to the rope and half pulls herself, half climbs up. At the top they look out on the meadows flocked with sheep and cows.

  “Not so different from times past.” John walks along the parapet a little, while Katherine stands still for a moment. She breathes in, filling her lungs with air. She closes her eyes. She feels good, better than good. She feels like she’s come home.

  “Kat! Kat!”

  She opens her eyes.

  Lucas is waving to her from the battlements on the other side of the castle. Next to him, Matthew aims his invisible bow at her, releases an arrow, and she clutches her heart and pretends to collapse.

  Later that afternoon, they pull into the parking lot of the Hidden Gardens, an estate containing three gardens cultivated in the early nineteenth century. Matthew has heard from friends, as only Matthew would, that it’s out of this world.

  “Look, Kat, look at the sheep!”

  “I see, I see.”

  There are sheep everywhere though, to be fair, the parking lot is a field.

  “I want to pat one.”

  “I don’t know if you can get close enough, and they might be smelly.”

  “Oh.” He looks disappointed.

  “But you’re welcome to try.” Katherine grins. “Mutton ventured, mutton gained!”

  “It would only be a sheep thrill anyway,” Matthew drawls. “They’re probably on the lamb.”

  “For crimes I shear-der to think about!”

  Now Matthew and Katherine are truly cracking up.

  Lucas, bewildered, turns to John. “What’s going on?”

  Without a pause, or even a change of expression, John replies, “Bleats me.” He eyes Katherine and Matthew, who are still giggling. “Wool you both stop making baaaa-aaad sheep puns, please?”

  He takes Lucas’s hand, and they both start off toward the reception.

  “That was pretty lamb-tastic.” Katherine stares at their retreating figures, dazzled by the brilliance of the delivery.

  “That’s why I love that maaaaa-aaan!”

  Katherine groans as she and Matthew follow them down the hill.

  The gardens are incredible, with an endless display of colors both delicate and bold. Gravel paths lead through the carpets of ferns, elephant ears and moss to quiet pools and even a waterfall. Small nooks with peaceful benches are shaded by sculpted hedges and surrounded by every type and hue of rose.

  Unfortunately, they aren’t the only ones who’ve heard about this paradise. Wrinkled and determined in practical, primary-colored clothing, with caps and hats to shield them from the weak sun, a slow-moving mass of old people wielding walking sticks and crutches blocks the paths. They seem determined to peer through binoculars and examine each and every petal on the giant red poppies, altogether traveling at the rate of ancient tortoises in a traffic jam.

  Matthew and Lucas make a game of passing them, sometimes running ahead when they hear the scrape of a stick or walker on the gravel, sometimes ducking down another path. John and Katherine, however, take it slowly.

  He smiles ruefully. “Both of them children, with Lucas slightly more mature.”

  “Yes.” She laughs. “This is gorgeous, isn’t it.”

  “It is.”

  “Pity I barely know a rose from a sunflower.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Any kicking yet?”

  “No. Not that I’ve noticed anyway. I’ve made an appointment with the OB next week, I guess we’ll see.”

  “It must be very strange, to have something growing inside you, something of you and yet not.”

  “It is. I guess part of me, maybe most of me, can’t really comprehend it. It’s like there’s an alien inside me, taking in my nutrients and siphoning off proteins and fats and calcium. It’s changing and developing, and it needs me to survive, but it remains a total mystery.”

  “In some ways it’s not fathomable.” He pauses and then continues, “Matthew wanted children. But I didn’t. I always felt that it was too much of a responsibility. And in some ways, many ways really, I’m far more selfish than Matthew is.”

  “I hear you.”

  “However, seeing him with Lucas, well, it gives one pause.”

  “There are rough days too.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Still, there’s a lot of joy.”

  “Speaking of . . .”

  She follows his gaze down toward Matthew and Lucas, who have taken a break from their game to admire the flowers growing a little way off the path. Lucas points to a beautiful purple-blue flower growing straight and tall, and Matthew reaches out his hand.

  “He shouldn’t be touching the flow—” John turns. “Katherine, what’s wrong?”

  “Hey!” Katherine calls out, but she’s too far away, and they don’t hear her. “Hey!” And then she’s running, or trying to.

  “Katherine, wait! What’s going on?!”

  But she doesn’t respond to John, only trying to get to them as quickly as possible, skidding on the gravel that’s turned slippery under
her feet. As fast as she runs, they seem to be slipping farther into the distance. She has to warn them, but she struggles to find air—there’s a stitch in her side.

  With her last puff of breath, she cries, “DON’T TOUCH IT!”

  Finally, they look up, gaping.

  She is gasping. “It’s poisonous!” she wheezes.

  Matthew pulls Lucas away from the flower with a speed that is almost comical, their eyes cartoonishly round.

  “Poisonous?”

  “Yes.” Her heart is slamming against her ribs “It’s monkshood. It’s highly poisonous.”

  “But”—Matthew is stammering—“we weren’t planning on eating it.”

  “I know, but sometimes touching it is enough.”

  Now John is by her side. “Jesus, Katherine, are you crazy? You could have fallen!” He rounds on Matthew. “As for you!”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t think.”

  “My God, of all the stupidity! There’s a reason why there are signs saying ‘Don’t Touch the Plants’!”

  “I’m sorry,” Matthew repeats in a small voice. “Katherine?” He turns to her. “Truly, I apologize.”

  She looks at Lucas, whose lip trembles. He is about to cry. She breathes in, breathes out, allowing her heartbeat to steady itself. “It’s okay, honey, he didn’t know.”

  “Lucas, I’m sorry.” Matthew is distraught. Katherine has never seen him so emotional. “I really am.”

  Lucas doesn’t take his eyes off Katherine. “You’re not mad?”

  “No, sweetheart, I just got a bit frightened.”

  “And ran like a maniac.” John glares at Matthew, and then shakes his head. “Come and sit down, Katherine.”

  “I’m fine now.”

  “For my sake.”

  She allows them to lead her to a bench. Matthew is rife with abject apologies. “That is the last time I touch any plant again. Even apples will be off-limits.”

  John rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch. “Honestly, the pair of you.”

  Lucas still seems spooked.

  John sighs and stands up. “Come on, Lucas, if you’re hungry for something unhealthy, let’s see if we can get you an ice cream.”