Beryl Fletcher

16

 

In the early afternoon a brisk wind arose that melted away the remnants of the clinging fog. A languid sun made a reluctant appearance from behind the clouds. Hannalore was summoned to the parlour. Clouts of intermittent smoke blew out from the fire. Hannalore sat stiffly to attention on the wooden settle trying not to choke on the fumes. Lena blamed the damp wood. Mr Cooper blamed blow back caused by the unusual direction the wind was taking. First easterly then south westerly. Why the devil can’t it make up its mind. Reminds me of certain people who live in this blighted place. 

 

The door to the parlour was bolted from the inside. This, according to Lena, was to keep Juno away. She had left her in the kitchen breaking down a lump of dough with the rolling pin. The child had to have some amusement.

 

Mr Cooper said they were not here for an idle chat. There were decisions to be made. He stared at Hannalore.  She dropped her eyes and clasped her hands tightly together.

 

The door handle moved. Lena jumped up and unbolted the door and Mr Cattermole entered, stamping his feet and rubbing his hands together. He went directly to the open fire and held his hands out to the smouldering logs.  

 

There was a subtle shift in the room. The air lightened. The fire burned more cleanly. Mr Cattermole sat on the settle next to Hannalore. His leg touched her left thigh encased in her long skirt. She prayed that he would not notice her change of colour.

 

Mr Cooper said that they were here to discuss Juno’s condition. He was saddened and annoyed that Hannalore had not been informed of it until this morning.

 

Mr Cattermole said that he had thought it better to wait until they got back here in case Hannalore spilled the beans to the old women. Not that she would have done it deliberately, you understand.     

 

Lena said that as far as she was concerned, no one outside the family knew and if they did, it was nothing to do with her. She was not a gossip. But she had felt duty bound to inform Hannalore of the situation when she had discovered that Wilfred had not. Piker. He should have told her the truth right from the beginning.  

 

‘Be silent woman,’ said Mr Cooper. ‘Wilfred almost lost his life in that damned river.’

 

‘Hannalore saved me with her breath.’

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

Mr Cooper knocked out his pipe into a glass ash tray. ‘I’m coming around to the view that we should turn Juno in to the authorities.’

 

‘Do you mean the people who run the orphanage?’ asked Hannalore.

 

‘No, that was a smoke screen. Wilfred fed that story to Sarah and the elders so that they would not object to Juno leaving.’

 

‘Hold on Charlie,’ said Mr Cattermole. ‘I brought her here in good faith. I thought that you were going to take responsibility for her.’

 

‘Doctor Graham is coming to the house tonight to assess her.’

 

‘But he might put her into a mad house for life. Is this what you want?’

 

‘I don’t know what else to do.’

 

‘Don’t look at me,’ said Lena. ‘I feel sorry for the poor little soul but not enough to raise up her baby.’

 

‘Be quiet Lena,’ said Mr Cooper. ‘There’s not going to be a baby. Not this one or any others. Graham will make sure of that. He has modern ideas on such things.’

 

‘You can’t do this,’ said Hannalore.

 

Lena mumbled something about making tea and crept out of the room like a feral cat on the prowl but as she turned in the doorway, Hannalore noticed a half smile flicker across her face, a brief expression of triumph, a small victory won by the breaking of a rule about speaking her mind in front of her master.

 

Mr Cooper disturbed the fire with a poker. A shower of gold sparks flared out of the iron grate onto the hearth. He said that without Lena in the room he could speak more freely. ‘She is a good woman but like all members of her sex she is given to sudden attacks of excessive sentimentality.’

 

He said that his position was clear. Even though he has had little to do with Juno since she was born, he is not without compassion for her. ‘She cannot give birth to this child and that’s an end to it. And if I find the swine who took advantage of her, I’ll break his jaw.’

 

‘And so will I,’ said Mr Cattermole.

 

Lena came back with a loaded tea tray. The cups and saucers and the milk jug were decorated with hand-painted floral motifs. A plate of wine biscuits topped with sweet sultanas, a silver teapot and a cut-glass sugar bowl completed the ensemble.

 

After a half-hearted joke about Lena trying to put on the dog, Mr Cooper mentioned the lack of home-made fruit cake. Surely their visitors deserved better than these shop-bought biscuits?

 

‘Someone stole the last of the cake last night. Your long-lost daughter to be precise.’

 

Mr Cattermole risked a wink in Hannalore’s direction. She remembered a similar conspiratorial gesture when Mr Cattermole had been brought in front of the elders but this time she was comforted by his attention.

 

Mr Cattermole was a man who understood the ways of the world yet he had shown kindness and concern for her welfare. She wondered about the meaning of the fleeting sensual moments that had flared up between them on their journey to Piopio. She had no idea if he felt the same. Whether he did or not, it could not change the fact that she had allowed lustful thoughts to enter her body, and even more shameful, that she had enjoyed the sensation.  

 

Stay calm, his winking eye seemed to say, stay still. We will find a way out.