Agnes huffs. ‘We don’t needs charity. We can takes care of our own.’ She takes hold of Emmett’s hand. ‘Come on, b’y. Let’s go.’
Bertha Perkins watches the older woman pull the small boy along the path from the church’s basement hall. ‘Lovely to see you, Mrs Parsons! Give my best to Ellie!’
No response. She pulls her blue cardigan close around her body and closes the door.
***
Ellie rolls over under the covers and reaches for the handkerchief on the bedside table. She blows into the handkerchief and coughs hoarsely. Flopping back against the pillows, she pulls the covers up to her chin.
She should get up. There was supper still to make, and Thomas’s trousers to mend for tomorrow. At least Agnes had gone to collect Emmy. Agnes would never admit it, of course, but she had a soft spot for her grandson. If only she’d stop knitting Emmy girls’ clothes. Thomas was right. He’d start getting ribbed, now that he was in school.
She closes her eyes and succumbs to the aches throbbing through her body. The last time she’d been this sick she’d been back home in Norwich, tucked up in bed in her old room, Poppy filling her hot water bottles and Dottie bringing her hot lemon and honey for her throat. Before Thomas. Another life.
Why didn’t Dottie answer her letters? Nothing. Not a word since that telegram about Poppy. If only she could speak with her. Apologise for leaving, if that’s still what was upsetting Dottie so much.
Things change, Dottie. Don’t blame me for that. I have to live my life. And my life is with my family here in Newfoundland. My Emmy and my Thomas. I hope you find what you’re looking for, Dottie. I hope one day you’ll forgive me.
***
Agnes sets a glass of milk and a plate with a date square on the kitchen table in front of Emmett. ‘There you goes, Emmy. Don’t tell your mam, for it’ll spoil your supper.’
‘I won’t, Nanny.’
‘Say grace, Emmy. You must always thank Holy God for what you’re given or it’s a black mark against your immortal soul and you’ll go to Hell with the Devil. You don’t wants that, do you?
Emmett’s eyes widen. ‘No, Nanny.’ He presses his hands together and squeezes his eyes shut. ‘ForwhatImabouttoreceivethroughthybountyChristaLordAmen.’
‘Good b’y.’
Agnes takes up her knitting and sits in a chair across from Emmett. ‘How’s the little Chaffey girl? She back at school now?
Emmett chews on the date square. ‘Yes.’
‘She have anything to say about when she was gone?’
‘No.’
‘Ah, well. That’s normal, Emmy. It’s just like what happened to the girl down in Colinet back in 1915.’
‘What girl, Nanny?’
‘I don’t know her name, son. But the fairies took her.’
Emmett’s odd eyes widen. ‘Fairies?’
‘Yes, Emmy. I heard about it myself. I was visiting my sister down in Gambo and a neighbour came over for tea. She told us she’d been on the train from Brigus just the week before and a man got on who she recognised from Colinet – that’s down south, Emmy. He told her he’d been there helping to look for a little girl who’d gone missing.’
‘Did she run away?’
‘No, she was only a year old. She’d been crawling around the floor when her parents were havin’ their tea one day and she crawled out onto the porch. Her mam went out to get her but she wasn’t there.’
‘She was gone?’
‘Yes, b’y. Sure as ice melts, she was gone. So, the parents looks around all over the yard and the neighbours’ but they don’t find her. They searched high and low for twelve days. They tried every lake and river, thinkin’ the baby had fallen in.’
‘Did she, Nanny? Did she fall in the water?’
‘No, Emmy. They looked and looked and the parents were very sad because they couldn’t find her. Then after twelve days the father looks out the window and he sees a man walkin’ down an old path from the woods carryin’ a bundle. The father and the mother went out to meet him and he had the baby girl in his arms. He said he’d found her six miles away sittin’ under a tree playin’ with the dead leaves, happy as can be. He gave her some hard tack to chew on and picked her up and brought her back to Colinet.’
‘Was she hurt?’
‘No, she was fine. Just a bit of sunburn on her neck.’
‘How did she get so far away, Nanny?’
‘It was the fairies, Emmy. They’re angels that Holy God shut out of Heaven in the war with the Devil. You don’t wants to mix with fairies, Emmy. They took the child and they kept it alive, but you can be sure they were plannin’ some mischief. The baby was lucky to be found. Sometimes the fairies takes a child and you never sees it again. You don’t wants that to happen to you, do you, b’y?’
Emmett shakes his head, his eyes wide.
‘That’s right. You’re lucky ‘cause the fairies gave you different coloured eyes for protection. But just in case, always wears a piece of your clothes inside out and carry a bun. That way, they’ll leave you alone. Will you do that for Nanny?’
Emmett nods. ‘Yes, Nanny.’
‘There’s a good b’y, Emmy. Now, don’t tell your Mam which I told you. This is our secret. You gots that, son?’
‘Yes, Nanny.’
Agnes smiles and pulls another ball of wool out of her knitting bag. ‘There’s a good boy. Those fairies will never come after you. Not so long as your Nanny’s around.’
Chapter 59
Tippy’s Tickle – 13 September 2011
Sam waves at Wince as he powers Miss Julie out onto the highway, turning left towards Wesleyville. The sun is high in the sky. Twenty degrees, going up to twenty-two the next few days. And icebergs off the coast in September. Unheard of. It’d hardly ever got this hot in September when he’d first come back to Newfoundland. He used to have to wear his winter jacket to school
