Emmie 8

Emmie watched Jenny  down the path, heard her start the scooter and saw her edge her way down chapel walk. As the sound of the machine faded into the distance Emmie closed the front door and slowly moved into the back room. The air had got a trifle chilly so she turned on the gas fire and let it burn on a low light. She gathered the cups onto the tray and took them into the kitchen. She had just run the hot water, plunged the cups and saucers and was just about to take the pot into the garden when the door bell rang. It was Dorothy back from the saturday flower arranging with an expression of plain curiosity on her face. "What is going on?" it said."

"Come in."  Dorothy went into the back room.
" It's a bit warm in here Emmie," she said. " Now what's all this about?"

Emmie appeared in the doorway with a bottle and two glasses. " I thought we might mull this over with a small sherry."  She filled two small sherry glasses and put the bottle down carefully on a table mat. " Sandeman Amontillado, not too dry and not too sweet."  She avoided saying, "a bit like us," and settled herself down in the armchair. " Oh just a minute. I will must see to this teapot." she picked up the pot and went outside and emptied the tea leaves onto the compost heap. " Sorry about that." she said and she settled herself again.

She told Dorothy the whole of the story so far and it was decided to give the girl a place to stay so that she could feel safe and out of the way. Emmie said she would clear out the back bedroom and that would do for the time being. Dorothy said that she would come over on Monday and further plans could be made then. In the meantime nothing was to be said to anyone else. Dorothy's husband, George, would just put any comings and goings down to church business and no further questions would be asked.

Dorothy left down the path with a wave and a smile, but not before she had offered a share of Sunday lunch. Emmie accepted and  went straight upstairs to cast a calculating eye over her spare bedroom.  Her first thought was "What a mess!" but nothing daunted, she set forth with a will. This place had needed a tidy for years. She had been meaning to sort things out, just in case there was a visit from Mary Louise, plenty of time for that. The wardrobe was almost empty with just a few pairs of old shoes resting on the rack at the bottom. The chest of drawers yielded up sheets and blankets for the bed. Emmie had never got round to getting a duvet for the spare bed. That may now need a further thought. The bedside cabinet was littered with bits and bobs of make up, cologne, a ball of string, a penknife and a stud box.

The stud box was leather and of a size that just fell into the palm of the hand. The leather was stitched around the top and bottom and down the side.  Emmie had dealt with most of David's spent possessions. Most of the suits had gone to The British Heart  Foundation shop and the good quality pullovers and shirts to the local SVP for the homeless hostel. The stud box had somehow been hidden at the back of the drawer. The box opened with a single twist.   Emmie's response to the sight of the contents was a low sigh. 

There were a number of back studs, a pair of gold cuff links and a single front stud. There were always more back studs. They were flatter, being a bone button with a short metal shank and a smaller metal button at the end of the shank. They were never misplaced as they could always be found comfortably tucked into the neckband of the collarless shirt. The front studs always needed a search. They had a lower bone button but had a longer shank with a small nipple at the end which folded flat to slip through the front of the neckband and into the two ends of the collar. If came out when the shirt was taken off and  could fall to the floor and roll into hidden places until they were found to be lost and found when they rattled into the vacuum cleaner. As she rolled the stud between her thumb and forefinger, a slight flush of a smile drifted across her face and she caught sight of herself in the dressing table mirror.

She recalled a time as young girl in her convent school when she was in a retreat given by a crusty old Jesuit, seated in his armchair on the chapel's sanctuary steps. They sat under the forbidding eye of mother superior and   Sister Euphrasia their form teacher. The admonition was on the temptations of the flesh and impure thoughts. And afterwards the following conversation over lunch was whispered across the table.

" Well my child, did you entertain impure thoughts ?"
" No father but they did entertain me." followed by a stifled, explosive paroxysm of giggles. Happy days!

Emmie replaced the stud, closed the box and went into her bedroom.  She placed the box in her own dressing table drawer. These were private things and private thoughts from a previous life and so they would remain.
The organisation of the spare room could wait till Monday morning.

JL August 4th 12:36