The Quietness by Alison Rattle

Author:Alison Rattle [Alison Rattle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hot Key Books
Published: 2013-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

29

Queenie

It was hot in the kitchen. Queenie was breathless and agitated after her fast walk back from the chemist shop. Her skin was sticky and uncomfortable. Mrs Ellis was asleep in the kitchen chair, an empty glass on the table beside her. The newspaper boy’s words echoed around Queenie’s head. Dead babies dumped on the streets. Queenie checked on the babies. Eight of them sleeping peacefully, a bottle of milk resting by each head.

Queenie walked quietly into the scullery. It was cooler in there, with no fire. She splashed her face and the back of her neck with water. Still the boy’s words banged in her head. Another body found wrapped in brown paper. There was no room for any other thoughts. No matter how hard she tried. Just the same words repeating themselves over and over. She scooped up a handful of water and drank it. Drops dribbled down her chin and splashed back into the bowl. She needed to do something to make it all all right. She knew what she had to look for.

She began to search the cupboards, bringing out piles of old rags, brushes and empty glass bottles. She pulled storage jars, an old rolling pin, a bag of laundry bluing and an enamel jug from off the shelf. Queenie looked inside the jug and her belly tightened when she saw a small roll of brown paper. She turned the jug upside down, and the paper and a coil of string fell out onto the floor. Queenie stared and stared, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. She had no idea what to do. Then without knowing quite how it happened, she found herself picking up the paper and string and shoving it outside with the kitchen rubbish.

There, now she didn’t have to think about it any more. Her heart slowed and began to beat at its proper pace. She took a deep breath and put everything else back in its place.

‘Queenie? Is that you?’ Mrs Ellis shouted through from the kitchen.

‘Yes, ma’am. Just coming,’ Queenie shouted back. She fastened her apron around herself and picked up the new bottle of Godfrey’s Cordial to take to Mrs Ellis.

Later that evening Queenie took her candle over to the babies. She looked at them one by one. They were the lucky ones, she thought. They were here in the warm, with milk to drink and a place to sleep. Better than being out on the streets with a starving mother and no hope. She thought of the miserable room at home, and the cold and the hunger. Even Mam and Da hadn’t been able to keep the last baby alive. She lay on her mattress and hugged herself tight. Only then did she realise she’d forgotten to buy the orange. Tomorrow, she thought. I’ll get one tomorrow. Then she blew her candle out and the darkness closed in.

Queenie dreamt of Da. He was sauntering down the street with a tray of oranges around his neck. The oranges were piled high into a tower, each orange as big as a baby’s head.

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