The Edge of the Fall

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Authors: Kate Williams
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‘Quite right.’ But when the mat or the napkin or the towel had been brought to obey him, he was all smiles again. He made noises at things. ‘He’s trying to talk,’ said Emmeline. ‘Clever boy.’ Mr Janus said he was going to be a leader. Celia supposed he was right. Albert slept on his back, open to the world, ready for its blows.
    Lily was entirely different. She was small, puny really, never took enough milk. Albert was always ravenous, hard to satisfy. She’d only take a little, then fall away, fretful. She cried and she didn’t make noises like her brother. She was shy, hid away from anyone looking at her, slept curled tight, and when Celia held her,she felt fear. ‘I’ll look after you, little one,’ she said. ‘I promise.’ She knew it was wrong, but Lily was her favourite. It wasn’t only because Celia had known she was there, looked into her eyes on that first night, said I found you . She also saw herself in her niece, shy, ill at ease, afraid.
    â€˜Please let me stay,’ she begged Emmeline again. ‘You need me to help.’ She held Lily close. ‘You know I’m good with them.’
    Emmeline’s face was pale, blue-purple smudges under her eyes. Albert slept well – sometimes five hours at a stretch – but Lily was always awake. Celia thought she hated the dark. ‘Samuel says we need the place to ourselves.’
    â€˜Or how about if I found rooms – Father would pay – and came in every day? I wouldn’t have to stay here.’ Albert was lying on Emmeline’s lap now, arm waving at the air.
    Emmeline shook her head. ‘Not for the moment. Samuel needs the flat for himself. He has things he must do. I’m sorry’
    â€˜You mustn’t let him! They’re dangerous. And how can you look after two babies yourself? You’re still exhausted!’
    Emmeline shrugged. ‘That’s the way it has to be. Maybe you can come later. But not now. I’m sorry. He says other things are more important.’
    â€˜He doesn’t care about you.’ Lily was nestled against Celia, not sleeping but quiet.
    Emmeline straightened up, pulling her wrapper around her. ‘You’re wrong to say things like that. And if you say it again, you’ll never come back here!’
    Celia clasped Lily closer. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, sister. I was wrong. I’ll just miss you, that’s all.’
    Emmeline touched her hand, lightly, a fairy touch. ‘I’ll miss you too, sister. But it won’t be for long. Anyway, Mama and Papa need you at home,’
    So Celia took the train back, got home, watched Arthur and Louisa talking endlessly, ignoring her. They walked in the garden together, deep in conversation. Sometimes Celia would come through the door into the parlour and find Louisa, alone, writing.She’d push whatever it was under her papers and look up, gazing-through Celia.
    â€˜Were you writing something?’ Celia said.
    Louisa shrugged. At dinner, she stared at Arthur, listened only to what he said.
    One night, the events of Peace Night still burning hard into her mind, she thought she’d attempt to talk to Louisa. Arthur was outside, smoking.
    â€˜The war must have been quiet at home,’ she said. ‘It was quiet here for me too. Mama wanted me to stay. But I had to leave, I really had to. I wanted to go and help. Was it the same for you?’
    Louisa shrugged and Celia took it as an encouragement – she started talking about being in the house with Verena, feeling alone, her desire to help. And then she wasn’t stopping, the words tumbling out, talking on about France and her life there, confiding, describing. She talked of the men screaming for help, how she recited Shakespeare to them so the pain would stop, the relief when she arrived at the hospital, the white cloth doors ghostly against the dark sky. She talked about Shep,

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