Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square, Chapter 178

Chapter 178
Cordial 


As quickly as the amber light of dawn cut across the Aberdeenshire countryside, it faded—blotted out by the kind of angry clouds which only grew along the spikes of the pines of Scotland. A clap of thunder announced the arrival of the storm, and, soon, the glow of a new day was replaced by a darkness like night. The Grange was wrapped in a mantel of gloom.

Gamilla looked up at the thin lancet window which illuminated the silver vault.

Finlay lay on the floor still—covered in flour and moaning about his ear. A new panic gripped him. “It’s gone dark! The room’s gone dark! You took my sight!”

Gamilla tried not to chuckle. “Did I?”

“Don’t lie to me, lass!” Finlay groaned.

“I think I’ll leave ya now.” Gamilla stood up.

“You can’t!”

“Finlay Donnan, ya had your chance to be a good man. Ya coulda unburdened yourself before any o’ this was needed, but ya didn’t see the need, and now, ya gotta give yourself over to…them. Don’t need me for that. To be sure, I don’t need to see it. Don’t want to see it. This is your misery. I got my own. I’ll leave now.”

“Please!” Finlay sputtered. “Please don’t leave me. Please! I’m frightened!”

“Ain’t my concern, Finlay.” Gamilla clucked her tongue. “There’s a man upstairs who almost done lost his life tonight. If you could see, you’d notice the stains of his life on the my apron, my dress and under my nails. Red and brown and horrible. It’s cuz of you that Gerard bled. It’s cuz of you that Dr. Halifax done had to sew him up like mendin’ a pair of torn britches. He’s got a life of fineness ahead of him. He needs me at his side. He ain’t lost the way you are, Finlay. Ain’t nothin’ I can do for you now. Ain’t nothin’. But, there is plenty I can do for him and I aim to see to it that he gets all he needs in order to be full and whole and strong. You, Finlay, you can lie here in the darkness you done made for yourself. But, don’t fear. You won’t be alone—not for long. Darkness has a way of birthin’ company for a man. No, you won’t be alone for long.”

“What do you mean?”

“You may not see. You may not hear. But, you’ll know what’s ‘round ya. Finlay, when ya take a person’s life, some of that life stays on ya jus’ like these stains of Gerard’s blood done stayed on me. Only ain’t nothin’ you can do to wash that away. It’s like seeds in the earth. They just need darkness to grow. And, that’s what we got right here. Darkness. Oh, yes, there will be a soul to hear the answers to the questions that are tearin’ you up. Won’t be my ears to hear. Don’t need to be. I ain’t the one who needs to hear your answers.”

“You can’t just leave me here.” Finlay whimpered.

“But, I can.” Gamilla shook her head. “And, I am.”

“Have mercy!”

“I got mercy. I got mercy for them who earned it. Finlay, the blood of the man I love is caked beneath my fingernails like dirt. I gotta wash it away. I want my hands clean so I can stroke the face of my beloved. When he opens his eyes, I want him to see my hands clean—as clean and new as the life we’ll make together. We gotta new start, a pure start ahead. Ain’t such a thing for you. You’ll never be clean again. Ain’t nothin’ I can do for ya. No, you’ll never be clean. Not your hands, not your face, not your arms nor chest, and especially not your soul.”

“My hands are clean!”

“No, they ain’t. Finlay, can’t ya feel the blood on your hands—the life blood o’ them you done wronged? Ain’t it there? Warm and sticky and thick? Don’t it burn ya, Finlay? Don’t it? When those souls march ‘round ya, listenin’ to the answers to them questions which done pierce your flesh, what will they see on your hands? Their blood, Finlay. And, in your eyes, they’ll see their own pain reflected like light on a pond.”

With that, Gamilla walked toward the door, unlocked it, and silently exited—making sure to lock the door loudly behind her.

She walked to Mrs. North’s pantry and went inside. There, she found Mrs. North’s cloak hanging on a brass hook by the door. She paused and lifted the thick wool to her face, inhaling deeply. The cloak smelled of Mrs. North—cloves and candle wax and soap.

Removing the cloak from the hook, Gamilla slipped it over her shoulders.

“Forgive me, Mrs. North. I don’t mean for to disturb your fine things. I do this in respect and so that I can see that those what hurt ya won’t go unpunished.

Just as Gamilla was about to exit the pantry so that she might walk in front of Finlay in Mrs. North’s cloak to frighten him further, she stopped in her tracks. For a moment, she thought she felt fingertips on her shoulder. The scent of cloves grew stronger.

“You’re here with me, ain’t ya?” Gamilla smiled. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, and, behind the lids, she could faintly see the visage of the late housekeeper—worn and wrinkled like slept-in bedding.

“I done knew you was with me.” Gamilla whispered. “Do you approve of what I done?”

The face seemed to nod, and, then, as thunder crashed outside, the image faded.

Gamilla opened her eyes.

There, in front of her, illuminated by a flash of lightening, was a shining object which Gamilla hadn’t noticed when she first entered the pantry.

It was a simple enough thing—a crystal claret, partially filled with some thick red cordial.

Gamilla picked up the vessel and grinned.

“Thank you, Mrs. North.”

With the claret in her hand, Gamilla returned to the silver vault.





Did you miss Chapters 1-177? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 179 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square.