like some timid little mouse, burrowing into a book,
and I could have done something fun like Photography or Drama. Daisy does both and laughs when she sees me trailing off to Chemistry with all the geeks, as she calls them. I’ve a good mind to swap classes, he would never know, not if I was clever, and I’d get to have a bit more fun. But Craig is in Physics, that is if he’s in at all, and Maths too. Daisy told me he wants to go to uni and that he got all As in his GCSEs. Never judge a book by its cover, Granny used to say. Looks like she was right there. But she’d disapprove of me hanging around, moping about Craig. She was always on about how we should make something of ourselves, not just get married and have kids, but do something proper, something to make her proud. Never rely on a man, she said. Silly old thing. We had fun with Granny though, until our parents found out and that was that.
Rebecca
After
After he found out about my job delivering papers, after he stole my money and beat me black and blue, I didn’t know what more I could do. He’d meant to put me back in my place and to prove again that he was the king and I a mere minion. Hephzi didn’t agree. She told me to get out, and to do it right then and there.
It’s the only way, Reb
, she says.
Like I’ve always said, we’ve got to get out. Please hurry though, don’t wait, you have to hurry because there isn’t time to spare
.
I promise we’ll go together this time, you and me, we’ll go together and be free
.
At last she’d begun to talk to me properly, not just little words here and there. She was back to making me laugh and acting the fool and I was glad to have her near. It had been so long since her funeral, so long since they’d put her in that box and piled earth on her head. Three whole months without her. And now that she was really here, with me whether I called her or not, it made the minutes I spent in the vicarage softer, almost bearable. But she was angry too; she thought people should know what had happened and that I ought to tell.
I didn’t want to die, Reb!
she tells me, crying, her head nestled beside mine on the pillow, just like when we were little.
Why didn’t they care?
she asks, and I have no answer good enough, my own mistakes clanging loud in my ears like the Sunday church bells. Her life had just been getting interesting, she said. She and Craig had made
plans. She wanted to know why no one was bothered enough to find out the truth, why Craig didn’t at least come to our window and call.
I’d given up asking those questions long ago. When we were little I’d thought about pasting a sign on Hephzi’s back for people to see as we tramped up the road.
Help us!
it would say.
Quick!
But I knew better than to bother, that the ink would be trick and would disappear on drying; no matter how fast I re-wrote the letters they would only melt away, dissolving like snow on water.
There had been a chance, just one. I don’t know what happened, that was time that I lost, but Hephzi says I had a fit when he hit me too hard at the top of the stairs and Mrs Sparks walked in and there I was writhing on the hall floor, jerking and twisting, spinning like a top. Before he could say the words ‘devil’ or ‘possession’ or strike up a prayer, she was on the phone for an ambulance – cool as a cucumber, Hephzi said later. I just remember waking up in the hospital and staring up at the lights. Whether it was heaven or not, I wasn’t sure, but I was almost hoping it would be, if Hephzi was there too.
A nurse came in.
‘Awake at last! What on earth have you been up to?What a pickle you’re in.’ I read her lips. This was before my hearing aids and the sound of the world was just a faint sigh.
Of course I didn’t answer. But I felt that there was some sort of chance. She had something fine in her eyes.
She took my temperature and wrapped a tight band around my arm, pumping it up, then letting it down.
‘How about
and I could have done something fun like Photography or Drama. Daisy does both and laughs when she sees me trailing off to Chemistry with all the geeks, as she calls them. I’ve a good mind to swap classes, he would never know, not if I was clever, and I’d get to have a bit more fun. But Craig is in Physics, that is if he’s in at all, and Maths too. Daisy told me he wants to go to uni and that he got all As in his GCSEs. Never judge a book by its cover, Granny used to say. Looks like she was right there. But she’d disapprove of me hanging around, moping about Craig. She was always on about how we should make something of ourselves, not just get married and have kids, but do something proper, something to make her proud. Never rely on a man, she said. Silly old thing. We had fun with Granny though, until our parents found out and that was that.
Rebecca
After
After he found out about my job delivering papers, after he stole my money and beat me black and blue, I didn’t know what more I could do. He’d meant to put me back in my place and to prove again that he was the king and I a mere minion. Hephzi didn’t agree. She told me to get out, and to do it right then and there.
It’s the only way, Reb
, she says.
Like I’ve always said, we’ve got to get out. Please hurry though, don’t wait, you have to hurry because there isn’t time to spare
.
I promise we’ll go together this time, you and me, we’ll go together and be free
.
At last she’d begun to talk to me properly, not just little words here and there. She was back to making me laugh and acting the fool and I was glad to have her near. It had been so long since her funeral, so long since they’d put her in that box and piled earth on her head. Three whole months without her. And now that she was really here, with me whether I called her or not, it made the minutes I spent in the vicarage softer, almost bearable. But she was angry too; she thought people should know what had happened and that I ought to tell.
I didn’t want to die, Reb!
she tells me, crying, her head nestled beside mine on the pillow, just like when we were little.
Why didn’t they care?
she asks, and I have no answer good enough, my own mistakes clanging loud in my ears like the Sunday church bells. Her life had just been getting interesting, she said. She and Craig had made
plans. She wanted to know why no one was bothered enough to find out the truth, why Craig didn’t at least come to our window and call.
I’d given up asking those questions long ago. When we were little I’d thought about pasting a sign on Hephzi’s back for people to see as we tramped up the road.
Help us!
it would say.
Quick!
But I knew better than to bother, that the ink would be trick and would disappear on drying; no matter how fast I re-wrote the letters they would only melt away, dissolving like snow on water.
There had been a chance, just one. I don’t know what happened, that was time that I lost, but Hephzi says I had a fit when he hit me too hard at the top of the stairs and Mrs Sparks walked in and there I was writhing on the hall floor, jerking and twisting, spinning like a top. Before he could say the words ‘devil’ or ‘possession’ or strike up a prayer, she was on the phone for an ambulance – cool as a cucumber, Hephzi said later. I just remember waking up in the hospital and staring up at the lights. Whether it was heaven or not, I wasn’t sure, but I was almost hoping it would be, if Hephzi was there too.
A nurse came in.
‘Awake at last! What on earth have you been up to?What a pickle you’re in.’ I read her lips. This was before my hearing aids and the sound of the world was just a faint sigh.
Of course I didn’t answer. But I felt that there was some sort of chance. She had something fine in her eyes.
She took my temperature and wrapped a tight band around my arm, pumping it up, then letting it down.
‘How about
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