The Silent Girls. Ann Troup

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СКАЧАТЬ bath was run from the worryingly ancient hot water heater that needed a match to light it and a prayer to stop it from exploding. Edie wondered that Dolly had survived at all, alone in such a house; it seemed booby trapped by antiquity and liable to be the death of someone sooner or later.

      At six twenty-five she had managed some semblance of humanity again and set off to Lena’s for the promised tea.

      In juxtaposition to Number 17, Lena’s house had always been a riot of family life. People drifted in and out at will and there were always children haring about. A pot of fresh tea was always on the go. It seemed quieter now and there was no sign of the girl Georgia, but Lena hadn’t changed in the thirty-five years since Edie had last been in her company. She was a little more bent, softer around the middle and her face was lined, but her personality hadn’t altered a bit. Her tilted smile of welcome was wry and gave some indication that the loud mouthed matriarch of old was still fully present.

      ‘Sit yourself down.’ Lena said, indicating a chair to the side of a cloth covered table. The seating was marked out by the addition of place mats showing ‘scenes of old Winfield’, scenes that Edie couldn’t remember. Winfield as a verdant residential paradise was long before her time. She did as she was told and sat, smiling her thanks at the old woman. ‘It’s very kind of you to invite me round, I wasn’t sure if anyone who knew Dolly would still be living around here.’

      Lena hauled the huge teapot over the bone china mugs and poured expertly, a thin stream of golden liquid releasing its enticing perfume as it hit the china. Lena was so adept at this ritual that she could complete it without a drop being dribbled or splashed onto the white linen cloth beneath. As Edie watched she knew that she would never be able to achieve the same, everything would have been sullied if left in her hands.

      ‘Well, I think I might be the last, they’ve almost all gone one way or the other.’ Lena said, setting the pot down as if it weighed no more than a piece of fine blown glass. ‘So, you just back for the funeral then?’

      Edie tried to smile but couldn’t. ‘That, and I’m here to clear out the house and put it up for sale,’ she said.

      Lena froze for a moment and stiffened, the milk jug held in mid-air. ‘Sell?’

      ‘I’m afraid so. She had a little bit in the bank, but not enough to pay all the debts she had.’

      ‘Couldn’t one of you girls have lived with her and helped her? It’s what we did in my day, I looked after my mother until the day she died and Dolly looked after your grandmother until she died.’ Lena said. A little judgmentally if Edie were honest.

      A brief respite, brought about by the questions of milk and sugar, allowed Edie to think about her response. ‘Perhaps we should have, but I haven’t seen her since I was a kid. Rose and I thought things were fine, Dolly never said otherwise. We didn’t know how bad things had got.’ Even to Edie’s ears it sounded like a litany of excuses, the timbre of her guilt making her want to run from Lena’s censure.

      Lena stirred her tea and nodded. ‘Fair enough. Just thought I’d be gone before the square was. I thought Dolly would be the last one standing, not me. I’d like to say that you could move in next door and keep the old place ticking, but it’s beyond that, I know. I’ve been nagging her for years to sort the place out but after Dickie died she just lost heart for it. I tried to help her as much as I could, but in recent months she wouldn’t even answer the door to me, just cut me out completely, it’s like she lived her life in the past. She hardly left the house by the end and I feel so bad that I didn’t know that she was hurt.’

      There was such a look of sorrow and worry on Lena’s face that Edie felt compelled to reach out and squeeze the old lady’s hand. ‘You were friends for such a long time.’ she said.

      Lena looked away from her and surreptitiously wiped a tear away with the corner of her apron. ‘We were. Me and Dolly, the scourge of Winfield, your uncle Dickie trailing in our wake.’ She laughed and shook her head as if to shake off her memories. ‘All gone now though.’

      Edie thought about Dolly’s twin for a moment. Dickie had been the Boo Radley of Coronation Square, a ubiquitous yet quiet presence, unobtrusive but powerful nonetheless. He had died five years before; Edie hadn’t gone to his funeral and felt sad about that now. Sad that Dolly hadn’t told Rose until it was too late. Edie didn’t even know where he’d been cremated, or whether there was a memorial, no one had ever mentioned one. Dickie had been a sweet man and had deserved better, from everyone. ‘Things change,’ she said.

      Lena looked at her. ‘Aye, they do, and not always for the better.’

      They were quiet for a moment as both sipped their tea, though Edie was acutely aware that Lena was studying her intently. Eventually Lena broke the silence. ‘What was you shouting about, out in the street earlier? I was watching you through the curtains.’

      ‘I thought it might be you. I was having a go at that bloody man about running his murder tours on the doorstep.’

      ‘Hmmmm. Won’t do you any good, he’s been running them for a few years now and they’re very popular. We can’t stop him.’

      ‘It seems somewhat insensitive, given that you still live here, and well, you know…’

      Lena pushed her cup away and sat back in her chair. ‘It makes no difference. We’ve lived with the legacy of those murders for all these years, him rubbing our faces in it won’t make much difference.’

      ‘I find it pretty shocking that anybody would.’ Edie said.

      ‘Ah well, I expect he has his reasons.’

      Edie was about to argue about what those reasons might be when the front door slammed making her jump.

      ‘That’ll be Sam.’ Lena said, hauling herself to her feet. ‘I’d best get another cup.’

      Edie watched her waddle into the kitchen and braced herself for the re-acquaintance with Sam. She had forgotten about him until Lena had said his name. Somewhere in her mind were vivid memories of a boy prone to pulling hair and bullying little girls, a boy she’d had a huge crush on if she remembered correctly. The Sam she could recall had managed to turn a simple game of hide and seek into a terrifying blood sport, calling it Murder in the Dark and scaring her witless. She was still smiling at the memory when he walked in.

      ‘Bloody hell, Edie Morris!’

      ‘Hello Sam, and it’s Edie Byrne now. How are you, still terrorising the neighbourhood?’

      ‘Not so much these days, not so many annoying little girls following me around.’ he said, looking her up and down. ‘You’ve changed.’

      ‘I’d be a bit of a medical oddity if I hadn’t, it’s been thirty odd years.’ she said, returning his scrutiny and appraising him. She wished the years had been as kind to her and wondered why it was that men aged so much more appealingly than women. Where Sam had laughter lines, she had crow’s feet.

      ‘Back for the funeral are you? Bit of a mess to face next door. I don’t envy you, last time I was in there it was like the black hole of Calcutta.’

      ‘Something like that.’ Edie said, thinking about all the rooms she had yet to tackle. ‘When did you last visit?’

      ‘Years ago, when Dickie was alive. He was a bit prone to falling over and Dolly couldn’t lift him, I’d help out when СКАЧАТЬ