Part 16 (2/2)

'I heard they came out here.'

'They came out and told us things.'

Elmer softly sighed. He said: 'There'll be steps I'll have to take.'

'What steps?' Mrs Dallon cried, suddenly shrill.

'They guessed it was Mary Louise who interfered with the rissoles. Only they don't know what she put in them. It isn't safe in the house the way things are.'

'What steps will you take?' Mrs Dallon repeated, calming a little.

Elmer didn't reply. 'What did Dr Cormican say when you saw him, Mrs Dallon?'

'He said if Mary Louise was sick he'd be sent for.'

'That's what I'll do then.'

When Kilkelly's car reached the outskirts of the town Elmer asked the driver to stop. He paid him off and entered the first public house he came to, a place he'd never been in before. It was dingy and cheerless, empty except for himself, but it suited his mood. He didn't want to have to talk to anyone, nor be addressed by name.

At Culleen, when James came into the kitchen after his day's work, he found his father and mother and his Aunt Emmeline sitting around the kitchen table. It surprised him that they should all be there at this particular time of day, not busy with their usual tasks. They were conversing very quietly when he entered the kitchen, their voices hardly raised above a whisper. They ceased immediately.

'What's up?' James asked, turning on both taps at the sink and working soap into his hands under the running water.

'Mary Louise isn't well, James,' his father said.

'Has she the 'flu?'

'Mary Louise has been doing funny things, boy. We're worried for her.'

'What kind of funny things?' James turned from the sink, the taps still running behind him, his hands dripping water on to the flagged floor. It was then that he saw his mother had been crying. His Aunt Emmeline looked as if she might have been crying also. His father's mouth was pulled down at the corners.

'What kind of funny things?'

They told him then, first asking him to sit down. That evening Mr Dallon drove over to tell Letty.

Alone in her bungalow, Miss Mullover found herself recalling Mary Louise's childhood fascination with Joan of Arc. Had she been wrong, she wondered now, not to find more significance in it than she had? When Mary Louise had confessed at her sister's wedding party that she and her cousin had been in love at the time of his death Miss Mullover had wondered if the confession, so abruptly offered to her, somehow belonged in that same realm of the imagination. More than once she had wondered so since, ending always with bewilderment. What she felt certain of was that the marriage of convenience that had taken place between a young girl and a draper could now be spoken of in the same breath as certain other marriages in the town that of the couple who communicated through their pet, that of the wife who'd danced secretly in the Dixie dancehall, of the bread deliverer who'd run away with a tinker girl by mistake. Marriages collapsed for all sorts of reasons, but presumably you never really knew why unless you were involved in one. Not that it mattered if other people knew or not, Miss Mullover supposed, but still could not prevent herself from wondering about the future of Elmer Quarry and Mary Louise.

'That's a terrible thing to do, Mary Louise.'

'Terrible?'

'You poisoned the food with rat poison,' Elmer said.

She smiled. I must not be mischievous I must not be mischievous she had written a hundred times after the episode of the worms in Possy Luke's desk. Downstrokes heavy, perfect loops, otherwise it would all have to be done again. Tessa Enright hadn't owned up. she had written a hundred times after the episode of the worms in Possy Luke's desk. Downstrokes heavy, perfect loops, otherwise it would all have to be done again. Tessa Enright hadn't owned up.

'You could have killed us stone dead,' he said.

'Yes.'

He had made up his mind: she could tell from the look in his eyes. Everything was there in his eyes, even for a moment something like distress.

'Yes,' she said again. 'Yes.' She thought of asking him if they'd let her bring her things with her, but she didn't. She was sure they would; the watch and the clothes at least, the books and the collar-stud.

29.

'I am back in the town.'

'You're back because you're better these days, dear. Because of the medicine. All the old stuff is over and done with.'

'I'm back because of the grave.'

'You can't touch a grave. You have to leave a grave alone.'

'You can change things if you want to.'

His hand is on the doork.n.o.b. More than anything else, Elmer requires a drink. His want is a need; he has scarcely the strength to stand; he came up with her tray and she smiled at him, delaying him by speaking of a graveyard, a subject she has raised before. 'Let her back into the attics if she asks for it,' Miss Foye advised, and duly he made the arrangements, putting sheets on the bed himself.

'I must go now,' he says.

'You can open a grave. You can move the remains. Isn't it funny, that expression, Elmer remains? To refer to a human person as remains?'

'Sure, what would be the point of it, dear?'

The first time he visited her in the asylum she said someone whose name he couldn't catch had stopped keeping a diary. A thick black line had been drawn and that was that. He asked her if it was herself, nervous about any diaries left lying about, but she didn't reply.

'Robert and I loved one another,' she says.

'Eat up that plateful before it's cold. And take the pills when you've had it. Put the tray outside and I'll get it later on.

'I don't need to take pills, Elmer.'

'Ah sure, you have to take them. Aren't they keeping you cured?'

'All it is is moving the remains from one graveyard to another. I want to be buried with him, Elmer.'

They maintained they wouldn't set foot on the attic stairs. They refused to so much as b.u.t.ter a slice of bread for her. They said if she came within ten yards of the pantry or the kitchen they'd walk out of the house. 'I'll see to her food,' he interrupted, and since her return he has done so, carrying her up anything that is left over, frying bacon and eggs for her if that is necessary.

'I have business down in the town,' he says. 'I can't be delaying.'

'All I want is to be buried with him.'

'I'll organize that. Only take your pills now.'

'Will you drive me out and I'll show you where the graveyard is?'

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