The Fallen Silk

dirge

Sunlight streamed into the kitchen, painting trails on the wood. She opened her eyes to see Vincent sitting across from her, and a cup of tea near her bent arm. She straightened her back, stretching her arms over her head, bending her neck to the left and to the right – she hadn't fallen asleep at a table in some time, and she did not miss the stiffness in her back or hips.

'Thank you for making tea.' She said, her voice quiet and still somewhat sleepy. He offered a smile but remained silent as he sipped from his cup and glanced out the kitchen window. 'Mornings are nice out here in the forest. Do you have a nice view from your house?'

He did not answer. Perhaps he was still processing all of his emotions from the previous night – either way, whatever his reason for not speaking, Effie could do nothing more than accept it and move on. She took a drink of tea and let the hot liquid run down her throat. It was both soothing and invigorating, and was exactly what her aching joints needed.

Nimbus walked into the kitchen, a soft mewl escaping her mouth as she acknowledged Effie and Vincent. She sniffed at Effie's fingers but skittered away when she tried to give her a pet; feeling slightly out of place, even in her own kitchen, Effie stood and stretched her arms over head.

'I'm going to take a shower and get changed. If the phone rings, can you answer it?' He nodded in response, his eyes not meeting hers. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he placed his own over hers, but he remained silent and still otherwise. With a nod, she left the kitchen for the stairs, and took them two at a time.

The hot water filled the small bathroom with a thick cloud of steam, and Effie imagined it washing away the pain and fear from the night before. Showers had always been somewhat cleansing for her, a thing she did to clean herself of the daily residue of life – but it had more significance, for some reason, now that she had more knowledge of the town and its traditions. It all made her feel dirty, feel wrong somehow. Nothing felt right, not even her mother's pearl necklace that sat around her neck. It was as though a dark cloud had planted itself over her and everything she held dear – but the water, oh the warm, luxurious water, how it washed all of that away and left her feeling new.

From beyond the door, she could hear the phone ringing; after a few rings, it stopped, and she could hear Vincent's voice, faint from under the flow of water, in the living room. She turned the knob on the tap and the warm water trickled to a stop as she stepped out of the shower and onto the bathmat. The house was silent, save for the sound of cloth against skin as she dried off and dressed in clean clothing.

'Vincent, is everything all right?' Effie called, opening the bathroom door and stepping into the hallway. There was no answer, which did not bode well in her thoughts. She crept down the stairs, unsure of what she would found – there, on the couch, sat Vincent, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His shoulders moved and the soft sound of sobs reached her ears as she left the stairs. 'What happened?'

'Carol-Mae.' He said between sobs. 'She killed herself.'

Effie stopped, her hand fluttering to her mouth, eyes wide. Killed herself? Why would she do that? She wanted to reach out and comfort her friend, but could not force herself to move forward, to sit beside him, or to even touch him – the mere thought of contact with Vincent sent Effie into a panic, and instead of remaining in the room she chose to make a quiet exit into the kitchen. Tea, tea was always good for painful situations – tea was good for any situation, but the process of stoking the fire and heating the water and setting out a tray with cups, a pot, milk, sugar, and biscuits kept her mind off of the impending conversation she knew she would have with Vincent.

Effie was jerked back into reality as the kettle whistled from the stove. She had been lost somewhere in the forest, beyond the reach of recent events, beyond the death and the fear and the pain that seemed to fill her life. When the tea was a dark amber and the steam smelled strongly of lavender and rose, she carried the tray into the living room and placed it on the coffee table in front of Vincent.

'Here.' She said, offering him a cup. In silence he took it and held it between his hands. She sat on the floor next to the table, crossing her legs. 'How well did you know Carol-Mae?'

'As well as anyone in town, I suppose. I just can't wrap my head around it. She was quiet, but I've never heard a negative thing out of her, or about her.' He took a sip of the tea. Effie watched him as he considered what to say next. 'They invited us to the memorial.'

'Already?'

'Things move quickly in this town. It's so small, everyone knows everything. It's tonight, at the estate. Her funeral will be this weekend.' It all seemed so fast – how could everything be ready for a memorial, let alone a funeral?

'How did she die?' She knew it was a callous question, and she partially expected Vincent to chide her for asking, but he shrugged his shoulders instead.

'I don't know. I didn't feel right asking, but I assume we'll find out by this evening.'

'Right, yes.' Effie said, staring into her cup. 'Look, Vincent, I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to bring up anything that caused you pain.'

'Honestly, Effie, I needed to talk about it. I haven't been able to speak of Retha in front of Wyatt, and my mother won't hear anything either. I've been isolated with my grief, and it was a relief to finally open up.' He placed a hand on her shoulder and offered a smile, but it was weak and tired compared to his usual grin. As they drifted back into silence, Effie considered inviting him to the library before the memorial for a bit more research into the deaths, but thought better of dragging him back into the dark emotions he felt surrounding his sister's demise. She waited, on the floor beside the couch, until he drifted once more into sleep – when she was sure that he would not miss her, she stood and put her coat and boots on, then gave Nimbus a soft kiss on the top of her head.

'I'll be back soon.' She whispered as she eased the door open and closed, the cool autumn air refreshing against her still slightly damp hair and skin.

***

Effie was pulled out of her trance as her cellphone vibrated in her jacket pocket. She had spent more time than planned in the back of the library, but the information she had found was priceless. There was so much hidden away in the books and ledgers and albums the town kept covered in dust, and she was excited to share her findings with Vincent. When she checked the screen of her phone and saw his name, she smiled to herself – speak the devil, and he shall appear.

'Hey Vincent.' She said, holding the phone between her shoulder and her ear – she closed the book she had been reading and gathered her notes and pen, stuffing them in one of her pockets.

'Are you still going to the memorial?' His voice was heavy with emotions and she could hear the weight that those words placed on him.

'Of course. I'm on my way back right now. I'll be there in about ten minutes.'

'Thank you.' He hung up the phone without waiting for her response. His shortness must have been caused by his emotional state, and it worried her more knowing that he felt so alone in the entire process. She had never thought to contact him – she hadn't even known Retha had died, or had a child. She had been so caught up in her own messes, in her failing and abusive marriage, in her mother's own illness. Effie realised just how out of touch with the world she actually had been, but also knew that there was nothing she could do to change the past; all she could do was make the future brighter.

How she could do that from a memorial for a girl who was barely an adult, she had no clue, but she knew she had to try.