The Music Box: Chapter Forty-Six

The three of them sat around the table in stony silence. Percy was lost in his stew, or perhaps still mulling over some problem or other he had not been able to solve before coming downstairs.

Isabelle was not very hungry, having worried her tummy into a tight little knot.

Emily seemed to her mother strangely eager to eat every last morsel before her. Normally there was a bit of a struggle to convince her to pay attention, but tonight she seemed to be eating with a hunger Isabelle could never really recall having seen before.

She was about to say something, but thought better of it. If Emily was eating without a fuss, without getting lost in some story or dramatic re-enactment of something that had happened that day, she wasn’t going to interfere.

Percy smacked his lips together and gave a satisfied sigh. Rubbing his belly he winked at Emily. “Not bad hey ‘Ly? Your mother certainly has a way with cooking, that’s for sure.”

Isabelle watched as Emily looked up over her spoon. She though she caught a dark flash in Emily’s eyes as they fell on her father, but it was gone so quickly she was convinced it was a trick of the light.

Emily looked from her father to Isabelle, but her eyes quickly dropped back down to her spoon as though it suddenly required all her concentration to eat the next mouthful.

“It is very good mother, very good indeed.”

The clock that sat on the wall near the doorway was ticking more slowly than she could ever recall, dragging on as though under sufferance. Each tick seemed to require an incredible force of will and Isabelle realised she felt dreadfully tired. Her whole body seemed to ache with a fatigue that she felt a week of sleep would only begin to help lift.

She excused herself from the table and began clearing the now empty dishes. Percy declared that he was off to the garden for his final pipe of the evening, planting a kiss on Emily’s hairline and wishing her a good night’s rest. Isabelle watched as he reached for the handle on the door that passed from the kitchen to the garden, his other hand absentmindedly rummaging through his jacket pocket to retrieve his pipe and tobacco.

“It’s time we got you off to bed little missy,” she said to Emily, whose eyes she felt boring into her back as she washed the dishes clean.

“I still haven’t forgotten about today, but I think tomorrow would be the best time to discuss what we’re going to do with you.”

Emily nodded but didn’t leave the table. Isabelle sensed something about her was different, had changed in some almost imperceptible way since she had left that morning, but she was too tired to be able to devote the necessary thought power to it to untangle what it might be.

“Well off you go and brush those teeth. I’ll be up in a moment to tuck you in.”

Emily gave a wry smile and pushed out her chair. She pushed on the table so the legs scraped back across the room, then slipped down over the front of the chair. She seemed as though she were on the verge of approaching her mother, but instead turned around quickly and disappeared up the stairs.

Standing where she was, Isabelle could again hear the sea quite clearly. She realised it still had that unsettled and unsettling quality to its voice, its troubled faltering giving way to a reckless wildness. The wind was back up again and she could hear it whistling through the many-fingered trees at the end of the garden, even reaching in under the eaves and sneaking into the house, dancing around the rafters. It was going to be a rough old night, with a high likelihood of a storm hitting before it was through.

Isabelle went to the window and saw the faint glowing ember of Percy’s pipe, willing him to be done and come back into the house. She dried her hands on a small towel hanging from a nail next to the oven, placed her apron back onto its hook and took a deep breath. Emily would be in bed by now, she thought, and I best go and wish her good night.

The glow had dies from Percy’s pipe and she could no longer make out where he was. She knew he shouldn’t be too far behind so, leaving the door unlatched for his return, Isabelle set off for the stairs. Reaching the bottom, she was startled when she raised her eyes and saw Emily standing on the landing, watching her intently with that steady gaze.

“I’m ready for bed now mother,” she said levelly. “It’s been a big day.”