Yes, it was lucky.
The officer took notes. The clock on the mantel ticked ticked. I thought about that morning, how I had told Emma, ‘Don’t eat breakfast today.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just heard Mrs Borden and Bridget vomiting.’
‘Oh.’ Emma stroked her throat. ‘I’ve already eaten some porridge with Father.’
Later in the room, I heard Emma moan, her body shifting, shifting in the bed. But she didn’t call for help and so I didn’t tell Dr Bowen when he came to the house for the rest of them. It took them days to fully recover. I allowed myself to eat pears in the sitting room when I wasn’t supposed to, I got those sticky fingers.
‘How has everyone’s health been recently?’ The officer was a stickybeak.
‘I think they were all sick again, Officer,’ I said.
‘When?’
‘This morning. That’s why Father came home early from work.’
‘What did he tell you, miss?’
I tried to conjure Father’s words in my mind but there was nothing but blood and his open head. My forehead throbbed and I rubbed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘I’m sure you will remember in good time.’ Dr Bowen was calming, soothed me.
‘I hope so. I want to remember as much as I can to help the police.’
‘Rest assured you’re doing a good job, Miss Borden.’ The officer smiled crooked, tooth over lip.
My stomach hardened, rock intestine, and the more I saw the tooth the more I wanted to reach up and rip it out, watch the gum bleed, but what to do with a tooth? I snaked my tongue over my teeth, years ago now, felt the little hole at the back of my mouth. It was Emma who had decided that my tooth should be pulled when I was seven. ‘If you do it, you’ll get money,’ she said. I liked the sound of that. We sat on her bed, our legs dangling over the side like we were riverside.
I pinched my molar between fingers and wriggled. ‘It’s like a little trapdoor!’
‘Maybe you could put Abby in there,’ Emma said. We laughed, filled the house with cracking.
I reached for my tooth again, made it wiggle. ‘I’m too scared to do it, Emma.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve had lots of experience.’ She stood in front of me and squinted. ‘Open wide.’ I opened wide and her fingers rushed in. The taste of salt, of honey. She pinched my tooth and pulled. Inside I was the sound of weeds uprooted from a garden.
‘Karoo! I got it,’ Emma said as if she’d found gold.
I screamed. Blood danced on my tongue. I spat onto my skirt.
Emma studied the tooth. ‘It’s huge, Lizzie.’
‘I don’t feel so good.’ Blood continued.
There was the sound of feet on the front stairs then the bedroom door opened. Mrs Borden stepped inside, was cross. ‘Girls, what on earth are you doing up here?’
Emma held the tooth high. ‘I got it!’
Mrs Borden came for me, a tender face. ‘Lizzie, are you alright?’
‘She’s perfectly fine,’ Emma said, arms folded across chest.
I shook my head.
‘Open up. Let’s see how bad it is.’
I opened and blood dribbled onto her hands. ‘Oh dear,’ she said. I cried. She pulled me into her body, warm with the smell of kitchen fat, warm with love, and said, ‘You’ve certainly had quite the adventure today.’ The absolute worst kind. She pulled away. My blood sat on her shoulder, trickled down towards her heart. She smiled at me. Teeth popped over lip.
I overheard an officer tell another, ‘We found a green tin full of money upstairs in Mr and Mrs Borden’s bedroom. Do you think whoever did this knew there was money hidden in the house?’
‘Who could say? Take it as evidence.’
What secret is Mrs Borden hiding now?
Somewhere along the floor I thought I could hear my name, the house whispering, There’s something down here you should see. I lowered my head just enough to see under the dining room table. There on the carpet, condensed meat and bile, the leftovers of rotting. ‘Where has that come from?’
An officer cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, what did you say Miss Borden?’
I tried to size up the mess, compare it to all the vile vomit of Bridget and Mrs Borden I had seen in the morning.
‘Nothing. It’s nothing,’ I said. Where had it come from? Is that Father’s? I was in the house this morning and then I was out of it. Bridget made noise, Mrs Borden made noise. I walked through the house and then Father came home. How did I miss the rotting?
‘I heard you say something,’ the officer said.
I better be good. ‘There’s something strange under the table.’ I pointed, watched the officer tilt forwards like a cuckoo.
‘What in the world . . .’ He crawled the floor and for a moment I considered straddling his back, riding him like a prized pony, I just want to be taken away from here. I’d command my little pony around the room, kick heels into his stomach.
‘I told you they were sick,’ I said, was right.
‘Did you see it happen?’
‘Of course not. I would’ve had Bridget clean up if I did.’ Where had it come from?
Everything hurt. A throbbing behind my eyes began every time the officer asked a question. ‘Where was your mother?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I think I was upstairs.’
‘What were you doing?’
Memory coiled like a snake. ‘I don’t remember.’ The clock on the mantel ticked ticked. I’d had enough of speaking. I wanted Emma to come home.
‘It’s very hot in here,’ I said. ‘Can we open a window?’ The house let out a sigh as windows opened. People spoke about me as if I didn’t exist.
They sent for Alice Russell to keep me company until Emma came home. When she arrived she said, ‘Lizzie, what on earth happened?’ She stroked my hand, like she should, and I told her, ‘They are dead. Just as I feared.’
‘How?’ Alice was hysterical, was too much.
I played with her hand, pinched her skin like dough. Her skin was softer than mine. I didn’t like that. I pinched harder and she eyed me. I smiled. ‘Someone came and cut them,’ I told her.
‘Oh my Lord!’ Her mouth dropped open like everyone else’s. I was tired of the look, the way it made me feel like hiding.
‘I don’t think I believe it myself,’ I said.
Someone had opened the window in the dining room and the house filled with more noise. I heard a pigeon coo-coo in a tree. I felt empty inside.
The officer asked, ‘Did you see anyone unusual loitering around your house this morning?’
‘No, not this morning.’
He paused. ‘You mean, there has been someone before?’
My heart skipped its beat. What’s the answer? ‘We were robbed last year.’
‘Who was the culprit?’
Footsteps above us became louder and louder, echoed in my head. ‘What are they doing with Mrs Borden?’
‘There are procedures to follow,’ he told me, offhand.
‘Oh.’ I wanted to be there, to make sure things were being carried through properly, isn’t that the right thought?
‘Miss, did they catch who robbed you?’
‘No.’
‘Can you tell me anything more about this morning?’