Read Online Mother of Pearl by Mary Morrissy - Free Book Online

up.’
    Stanley winced at the diminution of his name.
    â€˜Strictly against the rules, I can tell you! Fraternising they used to call it, isn’t that right, Irene?’
    He smiled saucily at Irene. She blushed and looked away. Stanley detected conspiracy.
    â€˜But then, Irene, you were always a special case.’
    A special case. The phrase rankled, somehow. Stanley had always regarded Granitefield as a neutral place where intimacy would have no quarter. It was an institution, a factory of sickness and death. He had never thought of it having a secret, sensual life.
    â€˜And what about you?’ Irene asked as she poured the tea. ‘Sugar?’
    â€˜Oh, footloose and fancy-free, as ever! You know me, never had much time for settling down.’
    You know me: Stanley tried to decipher meaning from Charlie’s emphasis. ‘As I was saying to Irene, Stannie, after you’ve been in a place like Granitefield you never want to stop anywhere long enough to be caught again.’ He balanced his cup and saucer carefully in one slender hand. He was painfully thin, Stanley noted.
    â€˜I tried to escape once,’ he said bashfully. ‘Did Irene tell you?’
    Stanley shook his head.
    â€˜Nearly damned well killed myself in the process. And the thing is, you can never escape it, really. Am I right, Irene?’
    Irene didn’t answer.
    â€˜That place is in my bones, Stannie, I can tell you.’ He sighed, then brightened. ‘Still, it can’t be all bad, can it? I mean it brought the two of you together!’
    Stanley met Irene’s gaze across the room. There was a pleading in her eyes. Don’t spoil it, that look said.
    â€˜True,’ was all Stanley could manage in response. But it was said heartily. Despite himself, he found Charlie’s blatant optimism infectious.
    â€˜Any kids?’ Charlie enquired.
    â€˜Yes,’ Irene said promptly, ‘but she’s asleep right now.’
    She pointed at the ceiling and put a finger to her lips. Alarmed, Stanley made to contradict her. There it was again, out of the blue. A totally brazen lie.
    â€˜She’s nearly three months old,’ Irene was saying. He realised with a pang that this was the age Pearl would have been. Her vengeance knew no bounds. He got to his feet hurriedly. Next Irene would be using her name; that was a cruelty he could not bear.
    â€˜Well,’ said Charlie, taking the hint and also rising, ‘I must be off! Nice to meet you folks!’
    Irene fetched his overcoat from the hall.
    â€˜Good to see you again, Irene,’ he said to her as he shrugged it on. ‘Oh, I almost forgot… you’ll
have
to see my samples now.’
    She bought a remnant, a floral pattern, navy sprig on a white ground. It might make a cushion cover, she said idly, putting it to one side.
    â€˜Trust Charlie,’ she said, ‘never one to miss the chance of turning a quick shilling.’
    Grudging and wry, it was not the tone Stanley expected. Not the way she might talk about an old flame. But why had she lied about the child? And why to
him
?
    As if reading his thoughts, Irene said dreamily: ‘He’s the one who started all of this.’
    Irene would remember this encounter as if it had been a brush with death. Or a relapse. A dangerous recurrence of the old disease. A sharp rise in temperature; a sudden collapse of the lung. He had no right, he had
no
right to reappear like that, no right at all. And with a great welcome for himself. Talking about old times, taunting her with his
bonhomie
, gloating. She could have lived a blameless life but for him.
    It might have been Charlie’s visit that prompted Irene to brood on her operation in Granitefield. She had not dwelt on the matter since she had left. But for the scar like a large fish bone traced on her skin, she would never have had to consider it at all. It was what they called an identifying mark. If she were dragged nameless