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she’s going to be a real Ethiopian beauty

Abyssinian, Joseph, Grace countered

they call it Ethiopia these days, Grace

seven months, eight months, nine months

her nourishing milk filled out her child, after feeding, Lily slept across her chest, light and warm, sometimes she whistled when she exhaled, face squashed to one side, lips tiny and puckered

Grace’s own Ma came vividly back to her at this time, the remembered feeling of being deeply, utterly loved

of being the most important person in her mother’s life

of being utterly safe

ten months, eleven, twelve months and one year

one year and two months and four days

Grace woke up early as usual, keen to begin another day with her daughter, delighted that

Lily had only needed feeding once in the night, they’d been told by the midwife this meant they could start to look forward to more uninterrupted sleeps

she got up and went to Lily’s cot by the side of the bed

she reached out her arms to pick her little darling up, but Lily felt stiff, was cold, did not move, not when Grace stroked her cheek, or put her palm against her forehead

held her hands

cupped her toes

rocked her.

5

Joseph gave Grace no time, he wouldn’t stop trying for another, there had to be an heir, he said, it was his duty to pass the farm on to the next generation

it had been in his family for nearly one hundred and twenty years

at this point

it was only then that she realized how deeply he was attached to the property, perhaps even more than to her, he saw himself as the caretaker of it, his life would be a failure if he didn’t have a child to hand it over to

he had to honour his ancestors

Joseph stormed around the house, knocked things over, bellowed at the dogs, swore at the farmhands, drank too much ale in the evenings

when they were in sexual communion, he entered her like a machine, not with the caresses of before

his only ambition was to ruthlessly pollinate her

she endured his merciless thrusting, looked up at the lampshade hanging from the ceiling, how thrilled they’d been when electricity was installed in the house

it was her duty to provide strong heirs for him, for the land, for his legacy, she understood that, and so far she’d failed

would he cast her out for dereliction of duty? to once more become a maid-of-all-work? replaced by another wife who could deliver on her obligations?

she endured him as the mattress bounced on the wooden frame of the bed that creaked on the wooden floor underneath the rug

they sat apart from each other in the Long Room in the evenings, the sound of the grandfather clock ticked

Joseph might read a farming journal or the National Geographic he ordered monthly

(how her husband loved an excuse to look at exposed native bosoms!)

she read Woman’s Weekly or novels by Dickens, Austen, the Brontës, or any other she found in the study to preoccupy her

to take her away from this, from him, from herself

from a body that gave birth to death

when he went upstairs to bed, she lingered downstairs, as soon as she walked into the bedroom he’d wake up and it would start all over again

Grace gave birth to another one

Joseph named her Harriet when she refused to, after his grandmother, he said, who’d lived to a great age, never had a day’s illness and died in her sleep

this one will survive, Gracie, I can feel it, she’s a fighter, it doesn’t matter that she’s a girl

she didn’t care about the demon who’d almost killed her over three days of labour, who then angrily shouldered her way out of her battered body into the midwife’s hands

who brandished her fists, screwed up her gummy face and bawled the house down with powerful lungs when she was slapped

Grace required morphine and stitching, too weak at first, and later, too unwilling to cradle the latest in a long line of doomed children

she refused to breastfeed it

Joseph refused to talk to her

Lily had been such a delicate, placid child, whereas Harriet’s furious, taunting presence filled the house without respite

it was a demon screaming throughout the night, determined to wreck her mother’s life from her cot in the room next to their bedroom where the wet nurse was camped

later, Flossie moved in, a nanny from Berwick

Grace spent months barely able to speak or haul herself out of bed, barely able to wash or brush her teeth, her hair tangled, skin paled without daylight upon it, she slopped about in nightwear, looked away when the demon was brought to her, felt physically sick whenever she thought of it

she dreamed of slicing her arteries to get rid of the pain, the same way she’d seen Joseph do to farm animals

she studied the kitchen knives to decide which one would do the job most effectively, quickly

she held each one up to the light in the middle of one night, was caught by Joseph who grabbed the knife

don’t you dare, Grace Rydendale, don’t you dare

she thought of walking out of the house, down the fields at the back and entering the lake until the water closed over her head

Joseph threatened her with the asylum, they’ll chain you naked to a wall where you’ll sit in your own toilet for the rest of your life

she didn’t care, she was already in hell, she took to sleeping in another bedroom, that part of our lives is over, she told him

don’t worry, he replied bitterly, I was only doing my duty, and you are now failing in yours

Grace remembered how he used to look at her with a love so powerful she could only return it, now he refused, just as she refused to touch the thing she’d given birth to

when Joseph thrust it under her nose, she pushed past him

don’t you dare walk away from your daughter, you’re a wicked woman, Grace Rydendale

the demon was sent to taunt her with the hope of motherhood, of fulfilling her role on this earth, to have something that was fully hers, only to take it away again

Grace remembered the suffering of when she was a little girl left alone in the world

she missed her ma who’d know what to do, who’d hold her and rock her and say, you can do this, Gracie, you can get through this, we’ll get through this together

one year came and went

Harriet grew strong and sturdy

two years came and went

Harriet began to crawl/walk/ climb

thirty months came and went

Harriet was talking non-stop

Grace woke up one morning for the first time since the child was born and didn’t feel full of dread, the clouds outside were a lovely light grey against a radiant blue sky

she’d not looked at sky for a very long time, or anything else, she’d only felt the heaviness inside her weighing her down

she hadn’t seen Joseph either, not properly, the man who made her his Queen of the Nile, he’d be outside milking the cows

she arose and bathed, tried to comb out the tangles in her hair, had to unpick it with her fingers first

she dressed herself in proper clothes instead of keeping on her nightclothes

Grace walked into the kitchen

Harriet was sat there eating a boiled egg with bread soldiers for breakfast, prepared by Flossie who’d taken her to choose her own egg from the chickens earlier, their morning ritual

Grace usually waited until they’d left the room to have her own breakfast, spent the entire time avoiding the child, was expert at it, alert to wherever the child was in the house or outside it, and made sure their paths crossed as little as possible

ignored Flossie’s disapproving glares when she did

Harriet and Flossie were silenced by her presence, Harriet looked up at her as if she was a new person

she imagined she was – with her hair combed and piled on top of her head instead of the wild tangled mess her daughter was used to, and she wore a white dress with yellow flowers on it instead of her washed-out dressing gown