Ink & Bone Anthology

‘Daddy wants me to go to a clinic. He wants me to go away for a spell until I am better. I don’t want to, but I must.’

‘I’m not staying with Nin,’ Sybil cried.

‘No. Not Nin. You are going to live with the Hardcastles, just for a while. It will be fun, I think, and Mrs Hardcastle is pleased to be having you; a friend for Marj.’

‘But what if I don’t want to?’ she asked. Mother sighed and stood looking down at the rug. ‘How long will you be away?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘A week? A month?’

‘A little more, I am given to understand.’

‘Do you love Daddy?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Does he love you too?’

‘Yes, Sybil, he does.’

‘Why do you argue so often, then? Is it this, the sadness?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘Is that why he gets drunk?’

‘Sybil.’

‘But is it?’

‘Yes, I think it must be.’

‘Well perhaps it is Daddy who should be going away. I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to stay with the Hardcastles. I want to stay with you. Say no. Say no to Daddy. He’s not the boss of you.’

Mother walked to the door and stepped half out of the room.

Her shadow stayed in Sybil’s bedroom. It lay across the rug, shivering a little as she hovered in the doorway.

‘Goodnight, little one. Let’s go to sleep now, shall we?’

Sybil watched the door close and heard Mother’s muffled voice say, ‘Turn out your light, dear.’ She picked up her water glass. She was about to hurl it at the door. She looked at the light reflecting off the angles of the cut glass and it distracted her. Instead of throwing the glass she took a sip of water and put it back on to her bedside table. She felt under her bedclothes and fished out her diary.

She opened it and wrote: I had a brother. He was called Henry James Bragg. He died on the day he was born. Mother is going away. She is sick 113