Free A Swift Pure Cry by Siobhan Dowd Page B

song. She couldn't hear the words, only the notes. They rose and fell, like shining bubbles, forming a pattern of loveliness. They were so beautiful, Shell wanted to cry. For by now she'd recognized the voice. It was Mam's. It seemed like she hadn't heard her sing in a lifetime. She smiled and relaxed, trying to make out the tune.
    A door opened and the song grew louder. Her mother was coming in from the yard, as she'd done countless times, ever since Shell could remember. She's in the kitchen now, Shell thought. A tap gushed on. A broom clattered on the floor. Was she singing the one about the lassie that dies a day before her wedding? She strained to hear the words, but she couldn't catch them.
    Long vowels curled their way towards her, through the bedroom door. The cadences grew closer, as if her mam was coming to check up on her, to see that she was all right. She was back at the time she'd had a fever, three years ago. Trix and Jimmy were at school, it was just Mam and herself in the house, with Mam in and out of her bedroom several times a day with the thermometer and hot lemon drinks, stopping to feel her cheeks. The floorboard on the other side of the door creaked in its familiar way. Shell couldn't wait to see her.
    The song paused, just for a fraction. Shell held her breath.
    When the voice resumed, something had changed. A terrible sadness had crept in. Perhaps the lassie was saying one last thing to her lover before she died. Or perhaps the man was explaining why he had to leave. A high note soared swiftly up to a sustained 'O', bringing the song to its climax. But instead of dropping back to a conclusion, the note stuck at the top, spinning like a coin, unbearably pure. The note turned into a fierce and piercing cry.
    The door handle turned, just as Shell remembered the truth.
    Mam was supposed to be dead. Her singing couldn't be coming from inside the house. It was coming from her grave. They'd buried her alive by some terrible accident and she wasn't singing, she was choking to death.
    Shell was her mam by then. She was penned under the ground, frantic, unable to breathe, pushing against the soft white padding of her coffin. She tried to jolt upright, back in the present. Her fingers kneaded the blanket. Velvet darkness pressed all around...

    ...She woke up.
    She couldn't tell where she was at first. In a coffin, or a field? By the gravestone of her mam? No. She was in her own bed. Mam's fingers had surely just fluttered past her face.
    'Moira.' A voice, familiar. Him again. She froze.
    The curtains were ajar. Moonlight toppled in over the counterpanes. Her father loomed at the foot of the bed, swaying on the spot. Only he'd no clothes on. His nakedness was appalling. She'd forgotten to bolt the door.
    Her heart hammered. Her breath came sharp and fast. He was fumbling towards her.
    'Moira.'
    His voice was slurred. There was a sizzling in her ears.
    One of his hands pawed at the hem of her dress. The other came up to her hair, pulling at the ribbon. His eyes were half shut, half open. His breath was stale and old. The flab on his pale arms wobbled as he groped.
    Jimmy murmured something in his sleep.
    The sound he made unfroze her. She knew what she had to do.
    She rolled swiftly off the edge of her bed, too quick for Dad to catch.
    His hands wondered over the sheets, shifting a pillow as if in search of her.
    She crouched on her hands and knees and began to move away.
    He sat on the bed rummaging, muttering. It was hard to tell if he was asleep or awake.
    She crossed the floor as soft and supple as a cat.
    She reached the door. She heard him groaning, stretching out on the bed. 'Moira. Don't turn away, lovey, turn to me.'
    Shell's belly heaved. Jimmy tossed and sighed, Trix breathed smoothly.
    She slunk through the door. Then closed it firmly behind her.
    In the kitchen, she huddled on the chair. God in heaven. Her breathing returned to normal as the darkness thinned. He'd have passed out by now. She waited