I Never Wear Black 6 |
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All work within this periodical is copyrighted by the authors and Big Pond Rumour, January 2008. No part is to be copied or reproduced without the written consent of the authors and Big Pond Rumour Press. |
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she knew Claire would be. She flew to her daughter. She was there. Her hair shone in the thin light from the windows. She laughed as she lay on the bed, her legs twisted, her hands tangled together above the pillow. She shouted sounds of greeting. Her beautiful daughter. She would never stand before the congregation in her red velvet dress, never say words of Torah. She would be twelve in three months’ time, but in her mind... Shelley staggered; the room swirled around her. The bags she was clutching slid over the polished floor. Then someone’s solid arms encircled her. ‘Shelley, what on earth’s the matter? Here, sit at the desk. Put your head down.’ She was being led to the nurses’ station; she sank on the chair, dropped her head into her hands. Tears fell hot on her fingers but she made no sound. ‘Drink this tea,’ said Hilda, a few minutes later. ‘I’ve put your packages on Claire’s bed.’ Shelley sipped the hot, sweet brew. Hilda remained standing, saying nothing. Then Shelley heard Claire calling and had to go to her. She stood up. ‘You’re a bit shaky,’ Hilda said, ‘She can wait a moment.’ Shelley sank back. ‘I’ve been a fool,’ she said slowly. ‘Worse, I think I’m-’ She hesitated. Hilda nodded encouragingly. ‘Hilda, I think I may be,’ she closed her eyes, turned her face away, knew if she were going to say it to anyone it would be Hilda. She opened them, and whispered, ‘I might be going mad.’ ‘Whatever it is, you’re not that.’ Hilda sat down behind the desk. ‘You’ve been ill, that’s all.’ ‘You think so?’ Hilda smiled, lines curling round her broad, comfortable face. ‘I know so.’ Shelley said nothing for some moments, then, ‘I’m not so sure, but still, thank you, Hilda.’ She stood up, feeling stronger now. ’I’ll go and see her.’ Claire had wriggled so much in her efforts to catch Shelley’s attention that she was spread-eagled across the bed, her knees scraping the wooden bed surrounds. ‘Hello, my darling.’ Shelley lifted Claire carefully, supporting her back. ’I’ve something special to show you.’ With Claire on her knee, she took the dress from the bag and held it up. The velvet rippled in the sunlight. Claire wriggled, shouted, ‘Dress,’ reached out to touch the skirt.
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