The World is a Wedding by Wendy Jones

Author:Wendy Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Europa Editions
Published: 2015-04-07T16:00:00+00:00

Grace left the Ballantyre Suite, hurriedly pushing the gold watch inside her brassière, where the metal clasp dug into her hard breasts. Lady Lytton was the third person to give her money—Wilfred immediately after their divorce, her father as she left Narberth, and now Lady Lytton. She needed money, but what she wanted most of all, she thought with exhaustion, was a home, a refuge, someone and somewhere to support her, rather than having to survive on her own. Of what use was a gold watch to her? What would she do with it?

She ran her hand over her breast; the watch made an odd metal lump so she shoved it down further and it disappeared into her contours, then she rushed down the corridor looking at the crystal doorknobs, searching for a MAID CLEANING sign. When Grace found the sign, she knocked on the door and Hilda came out and looked at her suspiciously.

‘What did she want?’ Hilda demanded.

‘To finish tidying the beds.’

‘And she wanted you to do that on your own? Is there something wrong with me, then?’

‘No.’ Grace could see that Hilda’s sense of importance as the more senior chambermaid had been dented.

‘Right. Start cleaning. You make the beds. Let’s see if you’ve still got a problem with hospital corners.’ Even though she was aggrieved, Hilda talked: only now her talk expressed her hurt. ‘I can do beds as good as any of them,’ she boasted. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ she asked Grace chippily. ‘Lost your tongue?’

‘No,’ Grace mumbled, aware of the bullying tone that Hilda had adopted. But Hilda was right: she had lost her tongue. She’d lost her tongue the moment she had been forced by her brother and hadn’t found it since. He had silenced her. She talked when she had to, replied when questioned, said what needed to be said as briefly as possible, but that was all. Her tongue lay heavy and useless in her mouth; like something she owned but no longer used. She had lost her tongue and got a child.

‘You ought to talk more. It’s boring for me. You’re not the only one in the room. It’s warm in here, isn’t it?’ Hilda said, parodying conversation and goading Grace to speak.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, I give up with you,’ Hilda said, throwing the starched sheet over the mattress, then flinging the feather pillows onto the bed.

Grace knew now to move away from people who were gathering themselves up to be violent in one way or another.

‘If you’ll excuse me,’ Grace said, ‘I’m going to lie down in the dormitory. I’m feeling unwell.’

‘Well! That’s a cheek,’ exclaimed Hilda, working herself up into a steam and clearly with much more to say, but Grace had put her duster on the trolley and was walking away.

‘You could lose your job for this!’ Hilda called after her.

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