Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Sixty-Three

Sixty-Three

For three days, our grandmother lay in her room, barely moving, barely breathing. Mother insisted she had not pushed her down the stairs. Instead, our grandmother had tripped as she walked out of her bedroom, after they had argued. This sounds awful, but I didn’t know whether to believe her or not- why would my grandmother have risen from her bed anyway? The damage was done; her body was mottled black and blue and deep violet.

*****

On the fourth day of tiptoeing around with thumping hearts, Grandfather suggested we get some fresh air and take a trip to Port Isaac. Mother wouldn’t stop her bedside vigil, so it was Mary, Emma, Sandy and I galloping along the lanes, adrenalin pumping through our veins. I hadn’t ridden in ages, so it was a lovely treat.

There was a strong wind pulling at my hair as I clutched Emma’s waist tightly (Mary was with Sandy because of height difference) suddenly realising how thin she had become as I could feel the outline of her ribcage. I peered around; her countenance was definitely pale, and there were circles under her eyes.

I remembered how abandoned she had looked when Grandfather had hugged my mother, Mary and I, and back to the beginning of the year at Rose’s, when I had laughed at her: Emma English, and Aleksandrov Russian. Suddenly, as the rain lashed down, I felt so terribly guilty and angry at myself for being so horrible.

My teeth were chattering as we rode over the hill and looked down on the little town of Port Isaac. It was built on top of cliffs and the sea was slapping against the rocks, froth spraying into the air. Black clouds hung over the busy port as the fisherman’s wives gutted the fish on the market stalls, crying out that their the mackerel and cod was the finest. We trotted through the rest of the narrow lanes, riding down the slope.

“Let’s do it,” Sandy grinned mischievously. With all the recent doom and gloom, we revelled in the idea of wildness. We unlaced our muddy boots, grabbed each other’s frozen hands, zig-zagged through the fishing boats moored on the beach, and ran into the sea.

*****

We returned back to the Englewood House, and it was rather nice to ride through the village of St Tudy, since we had arrived in darkness. We rode past many manors and farms, but none were as big as my grandfather’s, Midsummer Manor.

Sandy pointed out the parish church, which was adjacent to a place they called ‘The Clink’, which in turn had been an ale house, an actual clink, and a dame school. She showed us the blacksmith’s forge, the actual school (which she attended) and the Methodist Church.  It was lovely to experience village life!

*****

We were all dizzy with laughter, exhilaration, and the sheer stupid-ness of going into an October sea! Grandfather opened the door, as we dismounted. I just knew something had happened by his pink eyes and trembling bottom lip.  

“She’s woken up.” My body heaved with relief as I handed the bridle of my horse to one of the stable hands.

“And asked me to write her will.”

*****

"Satisfied?” Our Grandmother had bequeathed to us the contents of her smaller jewellery box. I turned to Mary, shaking. We both nodded.

“I wish your brother had survived so I could see him grow to a handsome young man; your new sibling won’t ever know me either.” I let out a little sob at the thought of my twin, murdered by Natalya, who had almost stabbed the grandmother of mine who was making a will.

“You will be here,” I cried, but she simply smiled as if she knew better and patted my hand.

*****

“Bella? Elsie? Mary?”

“Grandfather,” I hissed, “Why are you in my room in the middle of the night? It’s…improper!” My eyes widened in horror, and I scrambled to my knees, clenching a piece of the quilt. There could only be one reason. Mother and Mary were both asleep, and I tried not to wake them with my sudden tears.

“Don’t wake them. Tell them in the morning,” Grandfather said. He let out a sigh.

“At least she will be with Emmelina now.”

“Emmelina?” I frowned.

“Didn’t Bella ever tell you what she did to her little sister? She locked her sister in the barn and set it alight. Emmelina had discovered Bella’s diaries, which contained…inappropriate thoughts about her uncle. Bella believed he loved her, even though he was still married despite-. Anyway, you get back to sleep. I have matters to attend to.” He left the room abruptly, leaving me to grieve for the grandmother I barely knew and wonder if my mother was a murderer too.

*****

The next morning, Mother and Mary having been told, we all sat at the table, subdued, staring at our porridge. The only sounds were Mother’s sobs and Sandy on the sewing machine Grandmother bequeathed to her in her will. It had suddenly become clear that Sandy was my cousin, my own cousin. I clutched my stomach as it gave another violent turn. Was my Mother really that wicked, to kill her own sister? Why would Grandfather lie? I brushed more tears away as the front door opened.

“Mother, are you alright?” Mary asked. Mother was on her feet, hand to her heart, letting out little gasps.

“King!” she shrieked, and hurtled down the corridor to the shocked-looking man at the end.