The next day Clara took the envelope to Yolande at home. Ringing the gleaming faux-brass bell and hearing the Beethoven chimes, Clara steeled herself. Just this one thing for Jane, just this one thing for Jane.
‘Bitch,’ a furious Yolande screamed. There followed a stream of insults and accusations, ending with a promise to sue Clara for everything she had.
Just this one thing for Jane, just this one thing for Jane. ‘You’re a goddamned thief, tête carrée. That home belongs to me. To my family. How can you sleep at night, you bitch?’
Just this one thing.
Clara held up the envelope until it caught Yolande’s attention, and like a child presented with something shiny and new, Yolande stopped screaming and stared, mesmerised by the slim white paper.
‘Is that for me? Is that mine? That’s Aunt Jane’s writing, isn’t it?’
‘I have a question for you.’ Clara waved it back and forth.
‘Give it to me.’ Yolande lunged, but Clara flicked it out of her reach.
‘Why did you cover up her drawings?’
‘So you found them,’ Yolande spat. ‘Filthy, insane things. Everyone thought she was so wonderful but her family knew she was nuts. My grandparents knew she was crazy since she was a teenager and doing those hideous drawings. They were ashamed of her. All her art looked retarded. My mother said she actually wanted to study art but my grandparents put an end to that. Told her the truth. Told her it wasn’t art. It was an embarrassment. They told her never to ever show anyone her scrawls. We told her the truth. It was our duty. We didn’t want her to get hurt, did we? It was for her own good. And what did we get for it? Thrown out of the family home. She actually had the nerve to say I’d be allowed back the moment I apologised. The only thing I was sorry about, I told her, was that she ruined our home. Crazy old lady.’
Clara saw again Jane sitting in the Bistro, crying. Tears of joy that someone, finally, accepted her art. And Clara knew then what it had taken for Jane to expose one of her works.
‘She fooled you, didn’t she? You didn’t know your friend was a freak. Well, now you know what we’ve had to put up with.’
‘You have no idea, have you? No idea what you’ve thrown away? You’re a stupid, stupid woman, Yolande.’ Clara’s mind went blank, as it always did in confrontations. She was vibrating and on the verge of losing it completely. She paid for her outburst by being forced to listen to a string of accusations and threats. Oddly enough, Yolande’s rage was so deeply unattractive Clara could feel her own anger ease.
‘Why that particular wallpaper?’ she asked into Yolande’s purple face.
‘Hideous, wasn’t it? It seemed fitting to cover one monstrosity with another. Besides, it was cheap.’
The door slammed. Clara realised she was still holding the envelope so she slipped it under the door. Done. Just this one thing for Jane. And it wasn’t so hard, after all, standing up to Yolande. All those years she’d stood silent in the face of Yolande’s sly and sometimes outright attacks, and now to find it’s possible to speak out. Clara wondered whether Jane knew this would happen when she addressed the envelope. Knew Clara would be the one to deliver it. Knew Yolande would react the way she always did to Clara. And knew she’d given Clara one last chance to stand up for herself.
As she walked away from the perfect, silent house, Clara thanked Jane.
Yolande saw the envelope appear. Tearing it open she found a single playing card. The Queen of Hearts. The same one Aunt Jane had put out on the kitchen table at night when tiny Yolande had visited her and Aunt Jane had promised that in the morning that card would be different. It would have changed.
She peered into the envelope again. Surely there was something else? Some inheritance from her aunt? A cheque? A key to a safety deposit box? But the envelope was empty. Yolande examined the card, trying to remember whether it was the same one from her childhood. Were the markings on the Queen’s robes the same? Did her face have one eye or two? No, Yolande concluded. This wasn’t the same card. Someone had switched them. She’d been cheated again. As she made for the bucket to clean off the front stoop where Clara had stood, she threw the Queen of Hearts on the fire.
Worthless.