Monday Girl Read Free

tiddlywinks on the chenille-covered table. Peter had wanted to go to his daughter as soon as he knew of her loss, but had eventually been persuaded that she preferred to be on her own.
    Renee was allowed to sleep with her granny in the bed in the kitchen recess, and her granda went into the bedroom which had been shared by Anne and her sister, Bella, before they left home to be married. On that first night, only the nine-year-old had a decent sleep.
    Much the same pattern was followed on Tuesday and Wednesday, and, although Renee realised that this extended visit to her granny was not another holiday, she quite enjoyed the unforeseen absence from school. Only very occasionally did a vague flicker of disquiet assail her, and her grandmother could always dispel it.
    On Thursday morning, Maggie supervised her at the kitchen sink. ‘Ye’ll ha’e to gi’e yersel’ a right wash the day, my pet, for there’ll be a lot o’ folk seein’ ye, and we dinna want them speakin’ aboot ye nae bein’ clean.’
    Renee remembered how she’d been caught out on Sunday, so she washed herself carefully, even her neck, then Maggie made her dress in the bedroom to let Peter have a sponge-down.
    On the walk to her home, the girl reflected that her grandparents were dressed almost the same as Auntie Teenie and Uncle Jimmy had been when they went to church, even to the bowler hat perched on Granda’s grey head, and that they looked every bit as uncomfortable. Her amusement disappeared as they neared the house, to be replaced by apprehension about what lay in front of her.
    When they went inside, she cheered up when she saw her cousin, Peggy, with Auntie Jenny and Uncle George. The two girls, only a few weeks apart in age, were told to sit down and not make a nuisance of themselves, but Renee remembered that there was a pile of Children’s Newspapers in the lounge, where she had left them before setting off for Gowanbrae several weeks before. That would give them something to do, seeing they weren’t allowed out.
    Taking time to tell Peggy what she was going to do, she ran into the other room and was brought up short by the sight of the coffin. Seeing her father’s porcelain face, eyes closed in unnatural sleep, she forgot her reason for being there, and stood, horrified, gazing down at the waxen hands lying crossed on the white silk until she burst into choking sobs and dashed back to the living room. Maggie caught the full impact of the hurtling figure. ‘Oh, lassie, ye didna go through there, did ye?’ She enveloped the shivering girl in her comforting arms. ‘It’s a’ right! It’s a’ right! Granny’s got ye.’ It was Renee’s first sight of a corpse, and she vowed to herself that she would never, ever, look at another one, come what may. She sat down beside Peggy on the floor, in the corner between the sideboard and the window wall, and huddled closely against her in an effort to shift the icy coldness which seemed to have taken possession of her.
    Her terror transmitted itself to her cousin, and they sat in silence, not understanding what had happened, or even what was happening now, but realising that all the people who were arriving had not come on a normal visit.
    When the minister came, to conduct a short service over the coffin, the mourners went through to the lounge, but the two girls remained where they were, too scared to move, and no one remembered about them.
    The service over, all the men went out – to follow the hearse to the cemetery, Granny told them – and they were allowed to have a glass of milk and something to eat.
    The women scurried around, putting sandwiches and biscuits on cakestands and setting out cups, saucers and plates on the table, with both its extensions pulled out. Kettles were placed on the cooker, and teapots were rinsed out with boiling water before tea was spooned into them and they were filled to the brim.
    Renee noticed that they were using Granny’s kettle and teapot, as well as