Monday Girl Read Free Page A

her mother’s, and probably the other ones belonged to Mrs Fraser. They were going to need them, if they were going to fill all the cups they’d laid out.
    The men returned, and the room was filled with people, sitting, standing, milling about. It was all too much for the girl, as she and Peggy sat not making a nuisance of themselves, and tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn’t really understood when they told her, last Monday, that her father was dead, but finding him lying in his coffin like that had shocked her out of any hopes she’d nursed of ever seeing him again. She knew now what death meant.
    The hushed voices of the grown-ups as they went over, one after the other, to speak to her black-clad mother, made her flesh creep, and she prayed that her mother would never die. She could never look at another dead body, no matter whose it was, and the word corpse was the most revolting she’d ever heard.
    When she stopped living, she’d be a corpse herself, of course, but she wouldn’t have to look at it. All the relatives would gaze on her, and say how natural she looked, like they’d said today about her father, and she’d know nothing about it. A hysterical giggle rose in her throat at her senseless thoughts, and she clutched Peggy’s hand tightly.
    In ones and twos, the people departed at last, until only Granny and Granda, Auntie Jenny and Uncle George, and Peggy were left. The adults sat down to relax and recover over another cup of tea, although Granda and Uncle George took a glass of whisky first, and it was half an hour later before they were all gone, and Renee and her mother were completely alone.
    Anne Gordon sank down on the settee beside her daughter, her mousey hair damp with nervous perspiration. ‘I’m sorry, Renee. I haven’t had time to think about you, or notice what you were doing.’
    ‘I was thinking about last Sunday night, when Daddy switched off the lights, remember?’
    A faint smile lifted the corners of Anne’s mouth. ‘You came shooting out of the bathroom like a scared rabbit.’
    ‘I wasn’t scared,’ Renee protested. ‘But I told Daddy I hated him for doing it, and now he’s dead and I can’t let him know I didn’t mean it.’
    After a slight pause, Anne said, in a choked voice, ‘He knows, don’t worry. We all say things we don’t mean at times.’
    She studied the girl then – her daughter who would be ten years old in a few days. The shoulder-length fair hair was curling up at the ends, the bright blue eyes were clouded with remorse and doubt, the sturdy legs were encased in knee-high socks and the blouse and gym-tunic were what had been laid out for her on Monday morning to go to school.
    Renee was so like her father that Anne’s heart constricted in agony, and she was forced to avert her head, but, after a few minutes, she turned back to the girl. ‘Oh, God, Renee,’ she whispered sadly, ‘I hope you never have to go through anything like this.’
    Not knowing how to reply, Renee took her mother’s hand, and they sat in silence for a long time. At last, Anne stood up.
    ‘Help me to lay past the dishes, Renee. There’s only you and me now, so we’ll have to help each other as much as we can.’ The girl had a few private weeps when she recalled her last angry words to her father, but Anne remained dry-eyed, as she had been since the accident, until after the minister called, the next forenoon. The Reverend Graham was an old man, and had made hundreds of visits to the bereaved, but he could offer no explanation when Anne burst out, ‘Why does God let things like that happen? My Jim was a good man. He didn’t drink, or smoke, or swear, and we went to church every Sunday. Why was he taken from me?’
    Looking slightly uncomfortable, the minister laid his hand over hers. ‘It is not given to us to understand, my dear. The Lord moves in mysterious ways, and only the good are called to the Kingdom of Heaven.’
    Anne gave up. How could she argue with that?