Three Things About Elsie(104)

The last time I saw Beryl, Elsie and I were pressing our faces into the window of the town hall. We looked out into the darkness, cupping our hands against the glass to block out the lights, and we watched Beryl and Ronnie arguing in the car park and tried to hear what they were saying. Beryl and Ronnie falling out was nothing new, of course, but it was something else to look at when we got tired of other people’s feet. Although it was Beryl doing all the arguing; Ronnie just watched her in silence.

‘Do you see anything?’ I pressed my hands more tightly against the window. ‘Can you hear what they’re saying?’

Elsie shook her head.

‘What if he hits her, Elsie? What will we do?’

‘Cyril’s out there, too.’ Elsie breathed into the glass and her words clouded the view. ‘He won’t hit her, not in front of someone else.’

We watched Beryl pace out her anger across the tarmac. Backwards and forwards, throwing her arms in the air, shouting in his face. I saw the tip of his cigarette glow brighter in the darkness as he drew in lungfuls of smoke. After a few minutes, Beryl stopped screaming. Her eyes were inches from his, but just when I thought he might raise his fist after all, she turned on her heel and marched off towards the fields.

‘He can’t just let her go like that,’ I said. ‘It’s pitch black out there. She has no coat.’

‘She’ll come back. She won’t get very far,’ Elsie said, although she kept her eyes on the window.

The three of us waited. Elsie and I watching through the glass, and Ronnie out there in the car park, watching the darkness.

She didn’t come back.

‘I’m going after her,’ I said.

Elsie followed me into the cloakroom. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Florence. If anyone goes, it should be me.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘You’ll only end up arguing with her as well. I’ll go. I’ll bring her back for you.’

I pulled on my coat, and my arms argued with the sleeves in a rush to leave.

‘Why do you care so much, Florence? Why?’

I stopped fighting with the material, and I looked right into Elsie’s eyes, past all the questions. ‘Because I can’t bear anything to hurt you. Because whatever upsets you, I need to make it stop.’

I could hear my own breathing. It was the only thing I can remember about that moment, and when I look back to us standing there, just the two of us, it’s all I can hear.

‘You’ll freeze to death,’ she said.

I reached across to one of the pegs and took something. Something that wasn’t mine to take. ‘I’ll have this with me, I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘Just fine.’

And I wrapped her red scarf around my neck and went out into the night.





HANDY SIMON


The brandy had warmed Simon’s bones, but when he walked into the courtyard, the evening air rushed inside and cooled them all down again. September had clicked into October when no one was looking, and Simon thought it was always the biggest leap. Other months blended nicely together, but those two were always a bit of a jump, and everyone seemed to panic and start wearing big coats. He thought about calling into the staff room and borrowing something for the walk home, but he’d probably be fine once he got going.

Cherry Tree was in darkness. Ten o’clock and everyone was in bed. His boots ate their way across the gravel, and the world was as silent as a Christmas morning. He was halfway across the car park, and considering the idea that he might never have existed at all, when he heard it. A dog. Barking with such urgency, it stopped Simon in his tracks. It was an unusual bark, too. A bit lopsided, and he couldn’t make his mind up if it was a very long way from him, or almost at his side. No one at Cherry Tree had a dog. No pets allowed, that’s what Miss Bissell had decided. Even though there had once been a very heated debate about a goldfish.

He tried to follow the lopsided barking, and the dog seemed to know, because it became more urgent. He followed the path and turned the corner, where he found himself looking up at Miss Claybourne’s flat. There was a light. Just a faint one, in the hallway, leaking a yellow-orange on to the footpath. The barking stopped. He walked up to the front door and the whole of the courtyard was filled with the bright sparkle of the security light. Natasha must have left hours ago.

‘Miss Claybourne?’ He knocked very lightly on the glass. ‘Florence? It’s Simon. Is everything all right in there?’





11.12 p.m.


If I were to look back on my life and find the most important moments, I’m not sure I’d know how to choose. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it, lying here, but I still can’t decide which ones they were.

Perhaps it was when I got into a car with Ronnie Butler. I remember it now. How the seats smelled of beer, how I held on to the dashboard and begged him to slow down. I reached out. I tried to steer him away from her. I did everything I could. I know I did.

‘You’ve got to find forgiveness,’ Elsie said; I just didn’t realise she meant I had to find it for myself. Perhaps that’s the most important moment. Not the moment of the mistake itself, but the moment in which you finally forgive yourself for making it.

‘When you thought I was the one in the car, you found forgiveness, Florence. So why can’t you find it for yourself?’