Read Online The Cellar by Minette Walters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Minette Walters
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complicated emotion. Yetunde hated Ebuka, and wanted nothing to do with his care, but she couldn’t bear to see Muna perform the tasks instead. Ebuka hated Yetunde, and was only truly happy when she was absent, but he reserved his softest smiles for Muna when Yetunde was in the room.
The concept was a mystery to Muna since she had no feelings for either of them. Their antagonism reminded her of Olubayo’s fights with Abiola whenever the younger boy stole the older boy’s clothes, and she wondered if jealousy had more to do with possessions than with love. Perhaps Yetunde thought Ebuka belonged to her? This was a curious idea when the only person Yetunde had ever laid claim to was Muna. You are mine to treat as I like, she had said each time she raised the rod.
But when Ebuka finally decided to leave his room, Yetunde’s wrath became worse. Out of sight was out of mind but to watch Ebuka tease smiles from Muna’s solemn face, and call her pretty, drove her to distraction. She was angriest in the evenings when Ebuka sat in the kitchen, watching Muna prepare supper and complimenting her on her skills. She would make a good wife, he said often in Yetunde’s hearing.
Olubayo did nothing to lessen the tension between his parents. Having refused to enter Ebuka’s room for weeks, he now preferred to join his father in the kitchen rather than sit with Yetunde in front of the television. He too appeared to be jealous of Ebuka’s new-found affection for Muna and showed it in the efforts he made to win his father’s approval. Had Muna been capable of sympathy she might have pitied his clumsy attempts, which were rebuffed more often than they were appreciated.
Muna never questioned Ebuka’s behaviour, only Yetunde’s and Olubayo’s. She despised them for their stupidity, wondering why they couldn’t see that Ebuka was acting deliberately to make their turmoil worse. She assumed it made him feel powerful to stoke up Yetunde’s anger and have Olubayo beg for his attention because the idea that it pleased him to sit with her never crossed her mind.
Muna had no desire to be in another’s company. Closeness was something to fear and avoid. She preferred to squat in a corner alone. Listening.
Yetunde was tipped into a frenzy when Ebuka asked Muna to take him into the garden. She watched sullenly as he told Muna to put on one of Abiola’s anoraks which hung in the downstairs cloakroom and the wellington boots that stood beneath it. Muna said they were too big for her and that she wasn’t ready to go outside. She had never left the house and the cold and the rain frightened her. But Ebuka would have none of it and cajoled her into taking the anorak from the hook.
She did as he asked because he said he’d go on his own otherwise, and she had a greater fear of being left with Yetunde. Nevertheless, her terror of the outside was genuine. Had she known what brainwashing was, she would have understood why, since Yetunde’s worst thrashings were associated with it. She had beaten Muna mercilessly each time she’d caught her staring out of a window or daring to open the kitchen door to allow a breeze to dispel the heat.
Perhaps it was seeing Muna in her son’s clothes that caused Yetunde to erupt, or simple fury at her having her orders overturned, but her flailing charge caught Muna by surprise. She would have been knocked to the ground if one of Yetunde’s massive hands had smacked her head instead of gripping the sleeve of the anorak. If she thought to stop Muna escaping her, she had forgotten how thin the girl was, for her fingers caught only cloth, and Muna was out of the garment even before Yetunde had drawn a breath.
She backed towards the stairs, watching warily as Yetunde stormed and screeched in the middle of the hall. Was Ebuka ignorant of the embarrassment he had caused her by becoming a cripple? Did he care nothing for his family’s pride that he was willing to parade himself in public? Worse, to allow the
The concept was a mystery to Muna since she had no feelings for either of them. Their antagonism reminded her of Olubayo’s fights with Abiola whenever the younger boy stole the older boy’s clothes, and she wondered if jealousy had more to do with possessions than with love. Perhaps Yetunde thought Ebuka belonged to her? This was a curious idea when the only person Yetunde had ever laid claim to was Muna. You are mine to treat as I like, she had said each time she raised the rod.
But when Ebuka finally decided to leave his room, Yetunde’s wrath became worse. Out of sight was out of mind but to watch Ebuka tease smiles from Muna’s solemn face, and call her pretty, drove her to distraction. She was angriest in the evenings when Ebuka sat in the kitchen, watching Muna prepare supper and complimenting her on her skills. She would make a good wife, he said often in Yetunde’s hearing.
Olubayo did nothing to lessen the tension between his parents. Having refused to enter Ebuka’s room for weeks, he now preferred to join his father in the kitchen rather than sit with Yetunde in front of the television. He too appeared to be jealous of Ebuka’s new-found affection for Muna and showed it in the efforts he made to win his father’s approval. Had Muna been capable of sympathy she might have pitied his clumsy attempts, which were rebuffed more often than they were appreciated.
Muna never questioned Ebuka’s behaviour, only Yetunde’s and Olubayo’s. She despised them for their stupidity, wondering why they couldn’t see that Ebuka was acting deliberately to make their turmoil worse. She assumed it made him feel powerful to stoke up Yetunde’s anger and have Olubayo beg for his attention because the idea that it pleased him to sit with her never crossed her mind.
Muna had no desire to be in another’s company. Closeness was something to fear and avoid. She preferred to squat in a corner alone. Listening.
Yetunde was tipped into a frenzy when Ebuka asked Muna to take him into the garden. She watched sullenly as he told Muna to put on one of Abiola’s anoraks which hung in the downstairs cloakroom and the wellington boots that stood beneath it. Muna said they were too big for her and that she wasn’t ready to go outside. She had never left the house and the cold and the rain frightened her. But Ebuka would have none of it and cajoled her into taking the anorak from the hook.
She did as he asked because he said he’d go on his own otherwise, and she had a greater fear of being left with Yetunde. Nevertheless, her terror of the outside was genuine. Had she known what brainwashing was, she would have understood why, since Yetunde’s worst thrashings were associated with it. She had beaten Muna mercilessly each time she’d caught her staring out of a window or daring to open the kitchen door to allow a breeze to dispel the heat.
Perhaps it was seeing Muna in her son’s clothes that caused Yetunde to erupt, or simple fury at her having her orders overturned, but her flailing charge caught Muna by surprise. She would have been knocked to the ground if one of Yetunde’s massive hands had smacked her head instead of gripping the sleeve of the anorak. If she thought to stop Muna escaping her, she had forgotten how thin the girl was, for her fingers caught only cloth, and Muna was out of the garment even before Yetunde had drawn a breath.
She backed towards the stairs, watching warily as Yetunde stormed and screeched in the middle of the hall. Was Ebuka ignorant of the embarrassment he had caused her by becoming a cripple? Did he care nothing for his family’s pride that he was willing to parade himself in public? Worse, to allow the
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