Free Miriam's Talisman by Elenor Gill Page B

that’s what she said.’
    â€˜Or perhaps she said the Sidhe. It’s one of those Gaelic words, doesn’t look anything like it’s pronounced. You sayit like the “shee” in banshee. Yes, that’s probably what it was. From what I know of Celtic mythology, the Sidhe are the fairies. They were supposed to be an ancient and noble race, very powerful beings. Still, I don’t understand why she should have been so upset.’
    â€˜Well, she went on about it for ages. Kept saying we shouldn’t mock this Sidhe, or whatever. Said they would take revenge. She got really upset, and in the end Richard had to apologise to calm her down.’
    We both sat quietly for a while. Then I said, ‘She talked about her sometimes, you know. Miriam, she talked about Hannah. About how she was as a child. Nothing like me, apparently. There never has been any closeness between them. I’m sure Miriam did feel some motherly affection for her daughter, but it seems they’ve been locked in a state of conflict ever since Hannah was young. There was no point of contact, you see. Their natures were too dissimilar for them ever to grow close.’
    â€˜They’re different all right,’ David agreed. ‘It’s hard to believe they’re even related. Well, look at them—Miriam in her shambling, old cottage with her books and her research students, and Hannah in her mock-Georgian semi, holding court at Tupperware parties. I bet she does, doesn’t she?’
    â€˜Does what?’
    â€˜Hold Tupperware parties.’
    â€˜I’ve no idea, but I wouldn’t put it past her. Can you just imagine it? Miriam always said that she was a difficult teenager. While her friends had dropped out, Hannah had rebelled by going straight.’
    By now the tension had dissolved and we were both laughing. Then we fell silent again.
    â€˜You’ll be there at the funeral, won’t you, David? You’ll look after Hannah? I don’t think I’ll be any help to her. You understand her better than I do. In a way she’s right, you know: I
am
Miriam’s child.’
    â€˜Yes, I’ll be there.’ He was silent for a moment, pretending to listen to the house. ‘Do you think it’s safe to go back indoors now?’
    â€˜Yes, I think she’s had time to finish the washing up.’

    I sat on the rug in front of the cold fireplace, hugging my cup of coffee. Hannah leaned back in her armchair and allowed her feet to slip out of her shoes. Her eyes were closed. David had departed in a shower of sprayed gravel, eager to meet up with Cambridge friends and flaunt his new set of wheels. There was a quietness between us that wasn’t comfortable, yet it was safer than any words. But I knew something had to be said.
    â€˜Look, I’m sure it’s not too late to sort this out. We can get it put right. We’ll go and see Uncle Greg. I’m sure he’d know how to get the will changed.’
    Hannah opened her eyes and smiled sadly. ‘No, of course not. It’s not the money or the house that worries me, it’s…well, it’s yours now and I’m happy that you should have it. It’s just a pity that David was overlooked—he deserved something from her. But I’m not surprised she left nothing to me.’
    â€˜Oh, no. It was surely some kind of mistake. She didn’t think it through properly. It was just an impulse. You know how generous she was!’
    â€˜Generous? Miriam? Generous? Chloe, my mother was the most selfish, self-centred bitch I’ve ever known.’
    I felt as if I’d been punched in the chest, the breath knocked out of me. I sat there on the floor, paralysed with disbelief, while Hannah sat up and searched for another cigarette. Eventually, unable to bear the sudden barrier of bitterness that had sprung up around her, I stumbled for words.
    â€˜Perhaps we both knew her differently.’ It was a