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“Jesus can weep for me all he likes, but I think he’s weeping for you more, Grandma. And he’s definitely weeping for Mum, isn’t he? You made sure of that.”
“Jesus isn’t weeping for me,” Mum said, but there was a flash of fear in her eyes. “Why would he be? I’m not a sinner.”
“No,” I replied. “You’re not. It’s just a shame Grandma made you feel like one when you were young enough to believe her. And it’s a shame you made me feel like one along with her.”
Mum’s eyes were like saucers, and I didn’t blame her for the outburst when it came out loud.
“This is crazy! Are you on drugs or something?!”
She looked at Grandma, expecting her to step into the situation, just as she always had done. But Grandma didn’t. Not this time. She read the strength in my stance and the pure truth in my soul, and for once in all the time I’d known her, she looked unsteady.
“Mum!” my mother pushed, gesturing at me. “Is Katherine on drugs? Is she lost to the Devil?”
Grandma was silent, staring at me as I stared back. She was raging, challenged, but I wasn’t. I felt a lightness to my soul that raised me high, and it made sense.
She had no power over me anymore. Grandma’s spite and judgement had no hold over my life.
“Katherine is well and truly lost to the Devil,” Grandma whispered. “She needs to leave now, Serena. She’s finished.”
She turned her back as my mother looked on.
“But wait… wait! Surely she can’t be damned after just a few months?”
“She’s damned,” Grandma said, already on the way into the hall. “See her out, Serena. She doesn’t belong here anymore.”
We’d see about that.
Time to play my first Ace card.
“Grandad says hello, Grandma.”
She spun in an instant, eyes like hot coals. “Sorry? Excuse me? What the hell did you just say?”
“Grandad says hello,” I repeated. “I’ve been up on the tower turrets with him through the night, chatting about his life. And his death. He says he loves you, by the way. He misses your cooking, but not your rotten egg omelettes.”
“Your grandfather wouldn’t be on the tower turrets,” she hissed. “He’s gone to the Lord.”
“He has now,” I told her. “But he’s been waiting an awfully long time to leave. He’s seen you trying to make up for your lies. He’s been watching you attend church every weekend since he fell, trying to tell yourself that lighting a candle makes you a saint, when it doesn’t.”
Mum was white-faced, bracing herself against the sink. It was obvious I’d touched a guilty nerve at the mention of my grandad.
She truly was more of a fragile woman than I’d ever realised. I got a flood of sympathy I’d never expected to be feeling.
“It wasn’t your fault, Mum,” I said. “Grandad told me that himself. Grandma can hint at it all she likes, and tell you the world is made up of sinners who need to atone for their sins, but she’s talking bullshit. If anyone’s committed any sins in this house, it’s her.”
Mum shook her head. “Stop it! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grandma’s eyes were simmering when they locked onto mine. It was a challenge. I felt her vicious soul squaring up to mine. But mine would win. I was sure of that now. She could spin the house up into the sky like the wicked witch of the west, but it wouldn’t make any difference, I’d still be secure in my heart, ready to come out unscathed.
“Don’t do this to your mother, it’s vile,” Grandma said, and I laughed, still holding my mug of tea.
“Don’t dowhatto Mum? Don’t tell her that you threatened to destroy her life unless my father walked away from Garway church that night? That you told my father she’d kill herself from the guilt of killing Grandad if he didn’t drive away and leave us alone?”
“This is ridiculous!” Grandma yelled, but I kept going.
“How about I don’t tell Mum you’ve been a vindictive witch reading into everyone’s secrets and using them to spread hate? How about I don’t tell her that Grandad sends his love and assures her she wasn’t to blame for his fall?”
“STOP!” Grandma screamed and every cupboard door flew open, the cutlery drawer shunted to the floor, spilling cutlery in a clatter. Mum jumped back, cowering.
