Catherine was as quiet as a mouse when she let herself into the dark house. Her heart was beating violently in her chest, causing her to breathe heavily with fear. If her mother noticed the hour at which she was returning, she would not be allowed to go out on her own again.
As she walked past the large kitchen table, her dress slid against it causing the coins from Mrs. Pegg to jingle loudly. Catherine's breath caught and she stood and listened for several moments. The lack of sound caused her no relief. Surely her mother had worried about the money from the dress enough to notice, even if she was not awake and waiting for her at the door.
When she felt it safe to move again, she gingerly retrieved the coins from her pocket, careful to keep them squeezed closely together to avoid more noise, and placed them on the table where her mother would find them. She hurried to her bed in a corner of the large kitchen and crept under the covers. Sleep did not find her easily, her stomach still churning with uneasiness.
A loud noise startled her from her sleep what seemed to be only a few minutes later. Her mother stood in front of her, her expression dark. Catherine jumped out of bed, vaguely registering the fact that the sun was rising, and automatically stepped back.
“Where were you last night, you filthy girl,” her mother demanded harshly. Catherine blinked, drew a breath, then blinked again. Her nervousness causing her to hesitate for far too long.
“You are an ungrateful brat! After everything I've done for you, taking you in like that, giving you food and shelter, you go ahead and drag our family down?”
“No, mom, please, I just forgot time,” she began. Her mother interrupted her, slapping her face.
“Don't give me your excuses, girl. Where's the money? Did you really think I'd let you get away with stealing from us?”
There was a moment of silence as Catherine realised that she was expected to answer.
“I put it on the table, mom. It was there last night, I promise.” Her eyes searched the empty table desperately, as if the coins would suddenly appear if she tried hard enough.
“You filthy little liar. You have it much too good here! I would throw you out where you belong if I had a choice you know. Nobody wants you here but you father!” She spat the words out. They were silent for a moment, then there was the sound of flesh hitting flesh as Catherine was slapped again. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, willing herself not to cry out or think about the fact that she would bruise.
“You can stay in the stable from now on. Don't even bother coming back in here for food. I'm sure you can find some way of getting that on your own. Now get out!”
She did as she was told, hurrying to collect her blanket and boots before her mother could slap her again. She ran through the door and into the cool, damp morning air. The yard smelled like earth and herbs, mixed with the stale smell of dung. She slowed down and carefully opened the stable doors. They didn't have any animals in the house, except for a few chickens that her sister took care of. They were in the small garden behind the house, so Catherine would have the small space to herself. It wasn't even a real stable, more like a shed with space for a single horse, at most two, or a few goats.
There were a few piles of moulding hay laying about among the mess of unwanted household items and well kept gardening tools. She was the one who did the gardening, but her bother took care of the maintenance. Her brother and sister were twins. Strictly speaking they were her half siblings, but she was supposed to call their mother mother as well. She wasn't even supposed to know that it wasn't true. Her father had told her one late night and had been too drunk to remember it the next day. He was not used to drinking and rarely indulged.
That particular night had been strange all together. Her parents had fought and she had secretly followed her father to the inn, watched him drink himself into a stupor and had taken him home when he seemed to be done. He had mumbled the truth about her parentage on the way. Not that it had helped her much. All she knew was that the woman she was to call mother was not in fact her mother. It did explain a lot, though.
She had always tried to please her fathers wife, but it seemed like her very existence was a crime in their home. She was almost the same age as her siblings, just a few months younger, and she was old enough to suspect that something about that fact was a sign of her father's unfaithfulness.
As she thought about her father, who seemed to want to escape the home as much as she did, with the exception that he actually had a choice, something within her shifted. It did not really matter to her what he wanted her to do anymore. He left her in the care of the woman he'd married, despite the fact that she was clearly just waiting for an excuse to get rid of her, and never bothered to find out if she was still healthy and happy when he did return.
A comforting anger rose in her, and she left the stable and walked towards the house again. She wasn't going to let the angry, old woman in there ruin her day. If she wanted to get rid of her, surely they could come to an understanding. If not, at least she would make sure to fight back this time.
Ingen kommentarer:
Send en kommentar