by Lesley Crewe
“He was sorry. He said he didn’t mean it. You can’t tell anyone. He didn’t mean it.”
After I put her to bed, I tossed and turned all night. My fury lit up the room. That bastard.
He showed up at my door at six the next morning.
“I want my daughter.”
“She’s still asleep.”
“Get her.”
I put my finger in his face. “I know you pushed Maggie. I’m telling the police.”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “It was an accident, pure and simple. Just leave us alone.” He dropped my hand and looked behind me. “Jane, let’s go.”
Jane was in her nightie with Bridie in her arms. She immediately obeyed her father and out the door they went.
At nine, I went down to the police station. Angus Turnbull was on duty. He smirked when he saw me.
“Miss Nell Sampson. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I want to report a murder.”
He laughed out loud. “Well, now, I didn’t expect that. Who did you murder?”
“Gervais Landry pushed his wife down the stairs.”
“Were you there?”
“No. Jane told me.”
“Jane?”
“Their daughter.”
“How old is she?”
“She’s five, almost six. Old enough to know what she saw. What are you going to do about it?”
“There’s no evidence. There’s nothing I can do about it. It’s purely hearsay.”
“I know what that man is like. He drinks and he’s moody. There’s no way that child should be under his care.”
Angus gave me a big sigh and for the first time looked resigned. “If I had to take children away from their fathers for drinking and being moody, there’s be no kids left in town. Drop it, Nell.”
“You’re not going to do anything? Maggie is dead. A child is without her mother because of that goon.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Suit yourself.”
He followed behind me in his police car. When we arrived at the cottage, Gervais was standing in his doorway.
“I can’t believe she’s dragged you here on a wild goose chase. She needs to mind her own business.”
“We need to talk, Gervais. Let’s go inside.”
It was the first time I’d been inside the cottage since the accident. The place was a tip. Dirty dishes on the table and clothes everywhere. Even the fire was almost out. I wanted to punch him.
“Nell tells me your daughter said you pushed her mother down the stairs. Is that correct?”
“No, I didn’t push her down the stairs. I’m not a monster. She tripped while she had the laundry basket in her arms. She lost her footing because she couldn’t see the stairs. Why is Nell causing trouble? This is harassment. I’m a grieving widower. I shouldn’t have to listen to this.”
“I’d like to talk to Jane.”
“This is ridiculous!” her father shouted.
“Never mind that. Let me speak to the child.”
For the first time, I felt a flutter of hesitation. “Do you have to question her? She told me about it. I’m not lying.”
Angus turned and faced me. “You started this. I need to hear it for myself.”
Gervais gave me a look filled with hatred. Even with Angus beside me, I felt frightened.
“Jane! Come down here,” he shouted.
Jane appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked nervous, but then she spotted me and raced down the steps. She held onto my legs.
Angus knelt down and spoke to her directly. “Jane, I’m a police officer. I need to know if what you said to Nell is true. Did your father push your mother down the stairs?”
She looked up at me. I’d betrayed her. She’d told me not to tell anyone.
“Jane? I need an answer.”
Jane looked at him and shook her head. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“You see?!” Gervais shouted. “This meddling bitch has had it in for me since we moved here. You tell her to leave us alone.”
I pleaded with Angus. “She’s not going to say anything in front of her father, is she?”
Angus straightened up and turned to Gervais. “Make sure you give this child the care she needs. You owe her mother that. Nell, let’s go.”
Gervais put his hand on Jane’s head and steered her away from me. I had no choice but to follow Angus outside.
“You’ve opened up a huge can of worms, Nell.”
“What would you have me do? Jane said he pushed her. I couldn’t just ignore that.”
“No, but now you’ve made an enemy for life. You obviously care about this little girl, and now you may not be able to see her. You have to pick your battles.”
“He’s getting away with murder!”
“Life is unfair. If I could do more, I would, but there’s no evidence and I sure don’t want to put that child through any more upset. Do you?”
When I didn’t say anything, he got in his car and drove away. The minute the car disappeared, Gervais came outside and rushed to my side, his face mottled with hate. “That’s enough, lady. You mind your business and stay away from my daughter or so help me, you’ll regret it.”
“And if you touch one hair on that child’s head, I’ll kill you. Have you got that, Gervais? I will kill you stone dead.”
For two years I hardly saw Jane. I’d catch glimpses of her going to school, but she didn’t play outside anymore, which broke my heart—I knew what that was like. I stayed away for her sake, but I often wondered if she thought I didn’t care anymore. It was a pitiful situation and I often regretted confronting Gervais. It might have been the right thing to do, but was it the smartest? Nothing in life is easy.
And then it got very complicated.
Dr. Mackenzie died. He had a heart attack while out on a call, and the whole town was devastated at his passing. I knew I had to show up for the funeral, because Jean had been so good to me over the years. There was no excuse I could think of to not attend.
And it annoyed me that I primped in front of the mirror and wore a black dress that showed every curve for the wake. It wasn’t so much for George as it was for Mavis. I didn’t want to be found lacking when we set eyes on each other for the first time.
The minute I stepped into the funeral parlour and saw the lineup of people waiting to give their respects to the family, my heart started to race. It had been eight years since I last saw George. I knew I would recognize him, but had he changed from the boy I loved?
I spied him first, standing so tall beside his mother. His handsome face had filled out and he had a confidence about him that I’d never seen before, but also a sadness, which was only natural. He loved his father very much. I envied him that.
Mavis stood beside him. The first word that came to mind was prissy. She was overdressed for the occasion and wore too much makeup. She was actually tittering as people spoke to her, like she was a queen bee. I disliked her on sight. She knew people were looking at her and she was lapping it up. I noticed she turned to Donny a lot and simpered. Donny was as I remembered him, but his wife wasn’t what I expected. She looked like wallflower. How odd that the two of them were together. It didn’t make sense. But then, I didn’t know a whole lot about how the world worked.
George suddenly caught my eye and he gave me a genuine smile before he remembered where he was and focused on the person in front of him. I was relieved. He didn’t hate my guts.
I reached Donny and his wife first.
“Nell Sampson,” said Donny. “Thank you for coming. You look great. This is my wife, Loretta.”
I shook their hands. “How do you do? I’m very sorry about your father, Donny. He was the ki
ndest man.”
“He was that. He’s pretty hard to live up to, although George and I are giving it the old college try. I’m sure George can’t wait to see you again.”
Then he winked at me. What an ass. I felt sorry for Loretta.
Mavis was next. She held out her hand. “I’m George’s wife, Mavis. And you are?”
“A family friend.”
George reached over with both hands and held mine. “It’s so good to see you, Nell. Thank you for coming.”
“Your father was a wonderful man. Everyone will miss him terribly.”
“How do you and George know each other?” Mavis asked.
“We went to school together,” I replied.
She looked me over. “Who made your dress?”
I was stunned. Now was not the time to be chatting about clothes.
George answered for me. “Nell made it herself.”
Mavis looked at him strangely. “How would you know?”
I wanted to curl up right there. He’d put his foot in it.
“My mother told me. She often buys Nell’s dresses.”
“First I heard of it.” Mavis frowned.
Fortunately, the person in front of me moved on from Jean, so I quickly went up to her. “I’m so sorry, Jean. Dr. Mackenzie was very good to me.”
Jean hugged me and nodded. “He thought you were a lovely girl. Thank you for coming, dear.”
She smiled at me and then quickly looked at George. I believe I saw regret in her eyes, but I might have imagined it. It was time to go.
The funeral was the next day, the church so full that people had to stand outside. I joined them and heard the hymns through the doorway. I watched the family come outside and depart in cars for the graveyard. George saw me and tipped his hat as he drove by. I left and went back home.
At ten o’clock that night, I heard a soft knock at the back door. I was half expecting it but hadn’t thought about what I’d do if it came. When George walked into the kitchen, it was a flashback to old times.
“Hi, George.”
He nodded and stood there. I went up and put my arms around him. He cried for a very long time. Eventually, I let him go and made him a cup of cocoa. He sat at the kitchen table, looking done in. Cat came over and sniffed his shoes.
“Another cat called Cat, I presume?”
“Why interfere with a good system?”
We looked at each other across the table. Nothing had changed. Nothing. The only thing I felt when I gazed at George was love. It wasn’t hard to see that it was the same for him. To stop things from getting too awkward, I quickly asked, “Do you like being a doctor?”
“Yes, I do. It’s hard work, but very rewarding.”
“You should’ve become a GP like your dad. Then you could’ve come back here and taken over your father’s practice.”
“No.”
“Because of me?”
He smiled. “Yes. Besides, Mavis wouldn’t want to move here. She’s a city girl.”
“Do you always do what Mavis wants?”
“I find it’s easier.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t want to know about your life with Mavis. She doesn’t matter to you and me.”
“How have you been? You’ve not met anyone who’s tempted you to marry?”
“I told you years ago that I would never marry. I meant it.”
He looked around the kitchen. “You don’t get lonely?”
“Sometimes. But it’s not a terminal disease.”
George laughed. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“Help yourself. Why are you asking me permission?”
“Mavis hates my pipe.”
“Sounds like Mavis hates everything you love.”
He nodded. “She hates fishing too.”
“Never mind. We’re not spending our time talking about Mavis.”
We spent an hour just chit-chatting. He looked so much more relaxed by the time he left. He gave me a hug, but I didn’t let him hold me for too long. Before he stepped out the door, he turned. “Do you mind if I come to visit you from time to time? I come home occasionally to go fishing.”
“Do you think that’s wise, George?”
“Maybe not, but the thought of not seeing you again makes me crazy.”
He showed up out of the blue one fall day. We didn’t speak a word. He came through the door and took me in his arms. He carried me upstairs, and there we stayed for the entire night. I didn’t give Mavis a thought. We weren’t cheating on her. We’d been cheating ourselves of the bliss we created when we became one.
I wasn’t sorry in the least.
4
1946
The months after the war were a happy time for everyone. It was memorable for me because Jane suddenly appeared in my life again. At ten, she was still thin and pale, but she looked more like her mother and that pleased me. I wondered if it bothered Gervais.
When I saw her meander up the laneway, picking daisies as she went, I rushed outside.
“Jane! It’s so good to see you.”
She gave me a shy smile, but didn’t come too close. “Hi.”
“I think of you every day. How are you?”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble by coming to see me, but I’m delighted you’re here.”
She looked behind her, as if to make sure no one followed her. “Dad isn’t home. He hasn’t been home for a couple of days.”
My fists clenched at the thought of that miserable man. “Does he do this often?”
“Only one night before, but I’m okay. I know how to cook.”
“Why don’t we go inside and I’ll make you breakfast, like I used to. Porridge, your favourite.”
She smiled again and nodded her head.
We had a fine morning. We took a picnic down to the brook and she told me that she still had Bridie, and that she wasn’t doing very well in school because she wasn’t there often.
“Why not?”
“I get colds and things.”
“Do you have friends?”
She shook her head. “Dad wants me home.”
“Is he good to you, Jane?”
She shrugged. “He doesn’t talk a lot. He mostly drinks and falls asleep.”
“If ever you’re afraid or feeling unsafe, I want you to come to me, no matter what time of day or night. I’m always here for you, even if you don’t see me often. Your father doesn’t want you to spend time with me, but if he’s gone for long periods, I don’t see why you can’t come here. You don’t have to tell him where you are.”
“All right.”
So that’s how we left things. She would come to me at odd hours and we’d read together or make cookies. I made sure she wasn’t around when I had fittings to do, not wanting anyone to know that she was in my house in case it got back to her father.
It occurred to me one night, while I rocked in my rocking chair on the porch, that I had only two meaningful relationships in my life, and both were a secret. I didn’t tell George about Jane; it was too complicated, and I didn’t want him to tell me I was doing the wrong thing. It was between Jane and me.
I didn’t feel too badly about it, because George and I had this unspoken pact. He didn’t tell me anything about his life in Sydney. When he was with me, it didn’t exist. It worked both ways.
The year Jane turned twelve, I found her sobbing in my back porch.
“Jane, what’s wrong?”
“I’m dying. I’ve got blood everywhere.”
“Oh, Jane.” I took her in my arms. “You’re not dying. I should’ve told you long ago. You’ve got your period, that’s all. All women do when they get to be a certain age.”
“Even you?”
&
nbsp; “Even me. Come in and I’ll show you how to deal with it.”
I was annoyed with myself that I hadn’t prepared her properly. I sent her home with everything she’d need. She asked me if she had to tell her father. I told her no. It was not likely he’d care. She lived in the same space, but he didn’t pay any attention to her. From what she said, his drinking was getting worse. I had no idea how he put any food on the table, or if he even worked full-time.
The extent of his neglect showed itself when he actually caught Jane and I walking together down the laneway. He got out of his old truck and looked at us for a moment, and then he walked right into the cottage and slammed the door.
He had to have known that Jane was coming to me when she was lonely. It was like he didn’t care anymore if she did. That seemed worse to me, but it did make our lives easier. We all pretended nothing was going on. It was like being part of a dysfunctional family.
Sometimes, after George would leave me in the early morning, I’d think back to the day I told him I’d never have children. What was Jane, if not my child? I had been so wrong on that score. Of course, I’d never admit it to George. There was nothing either of us could do about the situation now. My stubbornness was the root cause of this situation. It didn’t feel good to know that. Sometimes I fixated on it and couldn’t shut my brain off. One day I found myself in front of the liquor commission and went in and bought a bottle of gin. I hurried out the door and ran into Myrtle Turnbull. She looked at the brown bag in my hand and smirked.
“Why, goodness me, Nell. I didn’t know you imbibed. I can’t believe you’ve stooped so low. How does it feel to be like the rest of us?”
I wasn’t in the mood. “Do you ever have anything nice to say, Myrtle? Do you stay up at night thinking of mean things to say to other people, or does it just roll off your tongue with ease?”
Her smirk turned to a frown. “Why do you think you’re better than everyone else, Nell Sampson? You always have your nose in the air when you grace us with your presence here in the village. That’s why you don’t have any friends.”
“I have all the friends I need.”
She leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, “Sleeping with another woman’s husband doesn’t count.”
