Sweet Satisfaction (Purple UGC Winner 2014)

Sweet Satisfaction - Sixty-Two

Sixty-Two

Taking in a deep breath, I stepped into the room. It was almost in complete darkness, apart from two candles on the bedside tables providing a weak glow.

“Who’s there?” A frail voice called out. I jerked around, whispering:

“What are we going to say?” Mary bit her lip.

“I said, who’s there? Victor? Sandy?” I moved forward into the light, and saw my grandmother for the first time in my life.

Her thin eyebrows furrowed in a v-shaped as she leant forward slowly, studying the two of us. The lines on her forehead were particularly prominent, as were her sky-blue eyes, which held a deep mysterious quality about them, a sharpness, that could make every person in a room quiver.

“You’re Isabella’s children.”

“How did you know?” Mary gasped, grabbing my arm as my own eyes widened. My grandmother looked at us with a steely gaze. I suddenly realised I was shaking, and it wasn’t because my hair was still damp. My grandmother folded her hands in her lap demurely, hardly moving, still staring, the Queen of Ice.

“Tell Isabella to come in then.” Mary and I looked at each other, rather bewildered, and backed out the room.

We stumbled out, and I was gasping for air. There was something so stunning about my grandmother that literally took your breath away. My head was spinning at the way she had reacted to us. I didn’t know what to feel or think. Why hadn’t she hugged us or something of a similar nature, the granddaughters she had never met? I nodded at Mother to go in.

Mary and I watched as Mother stopped, swaying, stuttering, staring.

“Hello, Isabella.” My grandmother remained as sedate and calm, there were no tears or smiles, or open arms for the daughter she hadn’t seen in eighteen years.

My grandfather’s warm breath on my neck startled me.

“Shall we leave them to their privacy?”

“Alright.” My voice was thick with tears, and I realised how important it was to me that Mother and her parents forgave each other. My legs were wobbling and my grandfather put his arm around me, smiling kindly.

“Let’s go and eat.”

*****

“So you’re Mary, and you’re Elsie, is that correct?” We choked on our soup. No-one had ever mistaken me for Mary, or vice-versa.  We corrected our grandfather, and Mary plucked up the courage to ask where our grandmother had been stabbed, shifting in her seat. I have to admit that question had been on my mind as well, for there seemed to be nothing wrong with her except her lack of friendliness. I had also been wondering how Natalya had managed to get into the house and try to stab her without being seen. There was so much I didn’t understand; why had Natalya even done this, after being let out of prison? Where was she now? Were the police looking for her? Would she finally be hanged? Grandfather hesitated.

“The heart.” Mary raised her eyebrows.

“I know, it doesn’t seem like she has one. Her mother died when she was three. She lacks a caring demeanour and it was hard for her when she was bringing up the children. She is a hard person to love, but I love her, because I know her like no-one else does.” He paused to let us finish our soup, clearing his throat.

“Bella is pregnant. It is… his child?” I felt my cheeks go warm, and Mary mumbled a stony ‘yes’.

How could he suggest that Mother was still provocative? If he couldn’t speak my father’s name, had he really forgiven Mother? Yes, Father had murdered his sister and brother-in-law eighteen years ago, but his niece, Natalya, had tried to stab his wife last week, and had drowned my brother, because she wanted revenge on Father. The idea was so complicated, with everything so inter-woven, that it hurt my head to think through it.

All our eyes suddenly widened. My heart missed a beat. Something heavy came crashing down the stairs, accompanied by a mangled scream. The kitchen was filled with the screeching sound of a broken violin, as we pushed our chairs backwards, running to the bottom of the stairs. Mary and I clutched each other for support, letting out little gasps.

Our grandmother was lying in a crumpled heap. I looked up, dread filling my body. Mother was standing at the top of the stairs.