Chosen (24 page)

Once there was enough money to buy a property, we did so, and the skilled members did the renovations. By the beginning of the eighties, when house prices were starting to go wild, the Soul-Life Community had amassed a small fortune all in the name of the Lord. Adam was happy and so I was, too. He loved me. He really did. What I'm about
to describe might make you doubt it, but I don't. He was led by his visions, by Jesus manifested in the herons, and I can't blame him, even though I did then.

†

It was September, nearly two years later. I can remember the day so clearly. Memory prints especially brightly on momentous days. The morning had been soft and grey. I'd woken with a niggling pain in my groin and found that my period had started. It was a few days late and Adam had been confident that this time the miracle had happened. The secret of my sterilization was like a bit of grit caught up in my heart, scratching at every beat.

I was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea while Hannah and Bethel loaded the washing machine with towels. As Adam's wife I wasn't expected to do as much of the domestic work – at least that was his view, not shared by my Sisters, particularly not by Hannah. Usually I did pitch in anyway, but not that day. Bethel and Hannah were singing one of Adam's songs and I had my eyes shut, trying to be soothed by their voices and the heat of my mug of tea.

When the phone rang it made me jump. Hannah shot me a look, so I got up to answer.

‘Is that Melanie?' Derek asked.

‘Yeah.
Martha
.'

‘Stella's in hospital, she's tried to . . .'

‘No!' I said, loudly, to cut him off, as if that would stop it being true. I wanted to drop the phone and stick my fingers in my ears. I wanted not to hear any more, not to let it in.

‘She's all right,' he said. ‘We found her in time.'

‘How . . .?'

‘She tried to hang herself,' he said, ‘in the barn. Kathy found her.' His voice, which had been sounding quite stern and normal, cracked at that point and I could hear him swallowing. ‘She's in hospital,' he said, ‘just for overnight observation and then she'll be transferred to the psychiatric unit.'

‘Psychiatric?' I said.

‘Regina's with her now. I've just got back.'

‘I'll come, shall I?' I said.

‘Ring me with your ETA at Edinburgh Waverley.'

I put the phone down and turned round. Hannah was transferring raisins from a huge paper sack into jars. Bethel was kneeling with her head in the fridge. Kezia came into the kitchen laughing about something.

‘What's up?' she said, noticing my expression.

‘My sister's in hospital,' I said. ‘I've got to go.'

‘Oh, sweetheart,' Kezia said.

I stared at the row of jam jars packed with wizened raisins. There was a butter bean on the table and a hair clip and a plate with a blackened toast crust.

‘She tried to kill herself,' I said.

‘Wow,' Hannah said. ‘That little Stella?'

‘Heavy,' Bethel said.

‘C'mere.' Kezia smothered me in a squashy hug. I submitted for a moment then pulled myself free.

‘What can we do to help?' Bethel said.

‘They're putting her in a loony bin,' I said, ‘but she isn't mad.'

‘Well . . .' Hannah crinkled her blond brows.

‘It'll be for her own good,' Kezia said.

‘But, see, she's always wanted to do it. She hasn't gone mad. She just can't see the point in living.'

‘Maybe that
is
mad?' Bethel said.

I frowned at her and stood in the middle of the kitchen, flexing and unflexing my hands.
Was
it mad? It hadn't sounded mad at all when Stella had said it, but rather – dangerously – sane.

‘We'll pray for her,' Kezia said.

There was no point trying to explain. I had to go. Adam was still out so I had to leave without seeing him. Obadiah gave me a lift to King's Cross and paid for a ticket to Edinburgh and said he'd ring Derek to say when I'd be arriving.

When I got off the train five hours later, Derek was waiting. He looked so much older – his skin almost the
same grey as his bushy beard and hair. We hugged and he took me to the car and we set off without saying a word. Then he reached over and patted my leg.

‘Good to see you,' he said gruffly.

‘How is she?'

‘Just herself,' he said, giving me a slidey, puzzled look.

‘Yeah,' I said.

‘Could you not have worn a different get-up?' he asked.

‘I don't have any other clothes,' I said, looking down at my lilac skirt. ‘Anyway, what does it matter?'

He said nothing but his expression hinted at a wealth of reasons why it might. We didn't speak any more until we got to the hospital. I saw Aunt Regina first, hands fisted against her chest as she leaned over the bed, and then Kathy, who was doing something immense in macramé. And then I focused on my sister. Her face looked puffy and ill but when she saw me, she smiled her old smile.

‘Mel,' she said, and I didn't correct her, just grabbed her hands and kissed her. Aunt Regina scrabbled and fussed at me and Kathy gave me her broad grin. I'd never seen her look the slightest bit perturbed and she didn't now.

‘Could I be alone with Mel for a bit?' Stella asked. Her voice had a painful husky catch to it and I saw then the purple bruising like a choker of lovebites around her throat. She saw me look and her hand flew up to cover it.

‘Cup of tea, Regi,' Kathy said. She draped her macramé over the end of the bed and led Aunt Regina away.

‘God, Stella,' I said.

‘It's a hammock!' She chuckled hoarsely and nodded towards the macramé.

‘
Stella
.' I took her hand and squeezed.

‘I think it would have worked,' she whispered, ‘only it wasn't quick like I thought. I think I started to die.'

I didn't know what to say. I sat on the bed holding her hand and though I tried to keep them in, some tears did run down my face.

‘Don't,' she said.

‘Why now?' I said.

‘You don't need me any more,' she said.

‘I do, I always will.'

‘That's not fair.' She looked at me fiercely. ‘You don't. When I die, yeah, you'll be sad.' Her own eyes watered with the strain of speaking and of swallowing. ‘But you'll get over it. You've got Bogart.'

‘Adam.'

‘You've got Jesus or whatever.'

‘But I still need
you
to be alive,' I said. ‘And Aunt Regina and Derek would be devastated. Can't you see how . . .' I struggled for a moment, ‘how
selfish
this is? You might not want your life but other people want you to have it.'

She shook her head and I caught an almost compassionate look in her eyes. ‘They didn't want you to marry Bogart,' she reminded me, ‘but you still did it. Was that selfish? Now I want to die. It feels like the right time.'

I was trying to think what Adam would say. ‘Only God can decide if it's the right time.'

‘I don't believe in God, but' – she reached for her glass of water and sucked a little through her straw, wincing as it went down – ‘if I
did
believe, maybe I would say that God said it
was
the right time.'

‘That's rubbish,' I said. ‘Did you know they're putting you in the loony bin?'

She shook her head and her cheeks stained with an angry flush. ‘They are not. Listen' – her fingers twisted round mine until I thought they'd break – ‘will you promise me something?'

‘Anything,' I said.

‘Do you promise that you'll promise?'

‘Yes.'

‘Cross your heart?'

I nodded.

‘Swear on your life? On Bogart's life?'

‘Yes,' I said, though she was beginning to make me nervous. ‘What?'

‘That you'll help me. When the time comes. That you'll help me do it.'

‘No!' I snatched my hand away. I stood up. ‘
No
, Stella.'

‘You just promised,' she pointed out. ‘You swore on your life. You can't take it back.' I couldn't look at her. Mother Clanger was sitting on her locker. I picked her up.

‘Aunt Regina brought her in for me.' Stella gave a painful scrap of laugh. ‘She said, “I've brought you your precious rag-rat!”'

I made myself smile.

Stella half closed her eyes. ‘I'm so tired,' she said. ‘Mind if I . . .'

‘I'll just sit here,' I said.

As she slept, I sat and watched the minute movements of her nostrils as the precious breath flowed in and out and the promise hung darkly round my heart.

†

I stayed with Aunt Regina, Derek and Kathy for three more days and I witnessed the awful battle to persuade Stella that she needed psychiatric treatment, and the eventual decision to section her. I saw her sedated, a floppy doll-version of herself who looked out with flat eyes, like bad paintings of her own with all the spark missed out. I talked to Adam on the phone and he said that he'd come and see her in a few days' time and take me home. The sound of his voice made me hollow out with longing and I knew I couldn't wait a few days. I'd go back early and surprise him and then we could travel back together to visit Stella.

I just couldn't feel at home at Wood End any more. I'd gone back to wearing my old clothes and even to eating meat and having a glass of Derek's beer, but it seemed different. It wasn't just me that had changed. The balance of power had shifted. Now it was Aunt Regina and Kathy on top, with poor Derek underneath them, being either ignored or used. They let him drive them around and walk the pugs and cook for them, but they didn't include him in conversations. Kathy had only ever grudgingly
acknowledged him but now Aunt Regina was nearly as bad. I went out of my way to address remarks particularly to Derek, and helped him wash up and fold the washing, while Kathy and Aunt Regina were upstairs practising massage.

On my last night at Wood End, Aunt Regina climbed the ladder to my room. They'd begun to use it as a glory hole, so I'd had to clear a path to uncover my bed.

‘Can I come in?' she said, putting her foot through a lampshade as she scrambled towards me. ‘We'd have tidied up,' she apologized, ‘but, well with, you know . . .'

I shrugged. I felt grumpy and childish in a way I hadn't since Adam, since I'd become a married woman.

‘Look,' I said. ‘I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch very well, but . . .' But how could I put into words the space that had opened up between us? It was as if I was looking at a tiny version of her across an abyss.

‘Well, the main thing is, it's lovely to see you now,' she said. We were quiet for a moment. There were piles of my old school books and papers in the corners. I could see the red corner of a geography project that I'd sweated over for months.

‘You can chuck all that away,' I said.

‘One day we'll have a clear-out,' Aunt Regina said. And then, ‘Are you happy?'

‘I am,' I said. ‘Are you?'

‘Cloud nine, dear.'

‘Why are you so horrible to Derek?' I dared.

She recoiled. ‘I'm not! What nonsense! The silly fool, what's he been saying?'

‘Nothing. I'm not blind. You shut him out, you and Kathy.'

She frowned, plucking at the goatskin on my bed. She had chequers on her forehead and the spray of lines at the corners of her eyes had spread to meet the brackets round her mouth.

‘He's a good man, Derek is; he's lovely,' I said.

‘You don't have to live with him day in, day out.'

‘I
did
,' I pointed out. ‘He's so kind.'

There was a bird hopping about on the roof, the claws scritch-scratching on the tiles.

‘Things change.' She looked up at me, her eyes naked. ‘Feelings change.'

‘Don't you love him any more?' My voice had fogged up.

‘Love changes too,' she said and now a skin seemed to close over her eyes. She became businesslike, rubbing her hands together. ‘Now then. Let's talk about what we're going to do about Stella.'

‘What
can
we do?' I said.

‘Well, I for one intend to visit her every day.'

‘We can't do anything to change how she feels inside.'

‘We can try to make her happier.'

‘But she's not unhappy. That's the thing. She just doesn't want to live.'

She snorted. ‘She just needs something to live
for
, that's all. A boyfriend. Or a hobby.'

I laughed, and I knew that Stella would laugh too when I told her that all she needed was a hobby.

‘I know that sounds feeble,' Aunt Regina said, ‘but everyone needs something. Kathy's got her goats; Derek his Esperanto . . .'

‘
You
used to like Esperanto,' I pointed out.

‘You've got your cult – and Bogart,' she said.

‘Adam. And it's not a cult.'

‘Adam then.'

‘So. What have you got?' I said, and her eyes skidded away.

‘There's Poochy and Princess, and –'

‘And
Kathy
?' I suggested, and she blushed a deep, unbecoming crimson.

I stared. The bird above us squawked. ‘Aunt Regina,' I said, ‘have you become a lesbian?'

She didn't say no. You could hear the wings of the bird as it took off. There was a gleam of sweat in the grain of her wrinkles.

‘I should mind my own business,' I said into the long silence.

‘So you should,' Aunt Regina said. She got up, though the ceiling wasn't high enough to allow her to quite straighten up and she stood hunched.

‘I'm going back tomorrow,' I said.

‘Oh, Melanie. Don't go yet. Stella needs you.'

‘I'll see her tomorrow,' I said, ‘and I'll come back with Adam at the weekend.'