Perhaps she had even asked God to make her die. But Mother had wanted to die, had wanted to be with Father. Mackenzie had taken her through the door into the dining-room.ĭon't look, Sarah had told herself, fixing her gaze on the rich maroons and peacock blues of the carpet that Father had brought back from Constantinople. Grasping Sarah's hands, so tightly that the rings twisted into Sarah's fingers and made dents in her flesh, Mrs. Let the child remember her mother as she was.'īut Mrs. She's fanciful at the best of times - gets funny ideas in her head. She sipped the cocoa slowly, delaying the moment when she would have to pass that door on her way to bed.

She was safe on Annie's lap, with Annie's arms around her. Now, how about a nice cup of cocoa before I take you up to bed?' And your sisters are coming home tomorrow. No-one tells Annie things like that.' She tried to smile. 'Why didn't she think of us? We haven't got anybody. Father's got God.' Tears trickled down into Sarah's mouth, warm, salty. she lost heart, you see, when your father died. You shouldn't listen to things like that. The doctor said she'd get better but she wanted to die. 'It's a mark of respect, you see, for your mother. 'It only seemed that way.' She stroked the child's hair. 'You can have all the bright colours you want after.' 'It's only for a little while, wearing black,' she said gently. She put her head down on the soft, smooth surface of the table and wept.Īnnie pulled up a stool. Now there was nothing left even her favourite dress had gone. Her lips trembled as the dress disappeared into the dye. It was no good, she should have known it would be no good. 'I won't, I won't!' But her voice wavered as she struggled to hold the material. Let me have it now, there's a good girl.'

'Oh, Miss Sarah,' Annie said, 'you can't wear yellow - not at a time like this.

Please, please, let me keep my yellow dress.' 'Not my yellow dress!' She fell off the stool, grabbed Annie's arm. One by one, the happy colours became the dreary black of night until only one garment remained. She knew it was here, in the kitchen, shivering on a stool, while Annie, like a witch at her cauldron, took the brightly coloured garments from a pile on the table and dropped them one by one into the bubbling copper on the range. She could not pretend tonight that her body was lying in bed upstairs. One step outside the safe circle of lamplight and she would be trapped, caught in shadowy arms, carried away.Įven in her most terrible dreams she knew that in some way, at some time, there would be an awakening. They lurked in the shadows, all the evil spirits of every fairy story that she had ever read, ghouls, goblins, imps, crowding round the edges of the room, waiting for her to move into the darkness.

Julia's Story by Ruth Elwin Harris