Lizzie Borden (16 page)

Lizzie was quite overwhelmed. It was everything she had dreamed of, and more. They rolled along the floor, biting and pulling at each other’s clothes until they were down to their drawers. Kathryn jumped up, grabbed Lizzie by the hand and they ran to the bedroom, where a candle had been lit and the bed turned down, and they climbed beneath the cool covers. The break in momentum seemed to settle them both down, although Lizzie’s breath still came hard and fast. When Kathryn slipped into bed next to her, Lizzie saw the longing again on her face. She drank in that look. It was something she never wanted to forget.

Later, as they lay in Kathryn’s spacious bed, in her large, well-appointed bedroom, Kathryn said, “I shall pretend not to know you well, you know.”

Lizzie nodded, wondering at the feeling of this house. This house was really little larger than her own house, and there was certainly no more furniture. But the air was spacious. There was tranquility in this house; it could be felt in the wallpaper, in the carpeting, in the chandeliers.

The wallpaper, carpeting and chandeliers at the Borden house were dingy, somehow, close and suffocating.

Kathryn’s house was cool and gracious. Lizzie’s house was stale and cramped.

Lizzie felt that she could even walk naked through Kathryn’s house, but the thought of even
being
naked in her own home made her feel shame for even thinking of it.

“If I were wealthy,” Kathryn said, “I’d buy a sailing ship and go to Africa.”

“But you
are
wealthy.”

Kathryn laughed at the ceiling. “I am comfortable, Lizzie. I am not wealthy. No. I would sell this terrible house and sail for the Dark Continent and find a man to hunt elephants with. And I would drink rye whiskey and smoke cigars. Seduce native girls.”

Lizzie turned in astonishment and looked at Kathryn’s profile. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t know Kathryn very well at all. . . there need be no pretending involved.

“What about you?”

“I’d buy a larger house, here in Fall River. On the Hill. I’d have dinner parties. I’d train to New York regularly to the theatre. And I’d give a large share to the WCTU.”

“The WCTU?”

“Yes, of course.”

“You really believe liquor is evil?”

“I don’t think liquor is evil; I think that people under the influence of liquor do evil things.”

“I think liquor is lovely.”

“But you’re on the committee. . .”

“Oh, Lizzie. It’s just a social organization.”

Lizzie was stunned. “It’s not!”

Kathryn still had not turned her head to look at Lizzie. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the ceiling.

“Are you telling me that you don’t believe in the work the WCTU is doing?”

“Oh, I suppose I must. I mean the way liquor is available today, I’m sure I can’t quite argue with the WCTU.”

“But you’ve been a member for years.”

“I know. That means nothing. Have you ever taken a drink, Lizzie?”

“Never.”

“Would you like one?”

“No! And I’d like it if we never discussed it again.”

“Well. I should think you would be in the mood to try some new and different things. I mean,” Kathryn turned and looked at Lizzie’s breast, then touched her nipple. It instantly shrank. “You seemed to take to other certain things that were new and different.” Kathryn looked up at Lizzie. “They were new and different, weren’t they?”

“Oh yes,” Lizzie breathed, her fire rekindling.

“Good. Then let us have a brandy.”

“No,” Lizzie said, and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Why, Lizzie, what is it about a little drink?”

“It’s no good, Kathryn. It makes people do things. . . terrible things.”

“Suit yourself,” Kathryn said, then climbed out of bed naked, picked a shirt from a hook in her closet, and walked out of the room.

Suddenly, Lizzie felt like a stranger. She didn’t know if she’d offended Kathryn, she didn’t know if Kathryn was coming back to bed, she didn’t know if Kathryn would even like her after her comments on alcohol. It was clear that Kathryn found no harm in moderate imbibing, perhaps Lizzie was taking the WCTU issue too much to heart.

She slipped out of bed, took a robe that was far too small for her and walked into the living room.

Kathryn was looking at a magazine, a brandy in her hand.

“I’ll have one too, if you don’t mind,” Lizzie said.

“Would you?” Kathryn raised an eyebrow.

“I think so.”

“Well good for you, Lizzie. The bottle is in the kitchen. Snifters are in the china cabinet.”

Lizzie took a delicate glass from the china cabinet and poured a dollop of brandy into the bottom of it. Something had been lost with Kathryn during the course of this conversation, and she wasn’t sure what, nor was she sure if she could fix it. She only knew that she was eager to fix it, desperately eager.

“Kathryn?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you care for me if this drinking goes badly?”

Kathryn laughed. “You have barely enough in that glass to wet your tongue, Lizzie. I have already had three times that much and do I look like a raving lunatic to you?”

“No, of course not,” Lizzie said, and smelled the liquor. It smelled rich and dark, sweet and bold. Bold. Bold, adventurous and self-assured. Lizzie wet her lip with it then licked it off. It tasted just like it smelled. She sipped a tiny bit, then saw that Kathryn was studying her with a critical look on her face. She took a larger swallow and felt the warmth slide down her throat and spread out in her stomach. “That’s kind of nice,” she said.

Kathryn laughed. “Oh, Lizzie,” she said. “We have much work to do on you.”

MAY

“You should have seen her, Lizzie.” Emma’s insides burned as she paced back and forth in Lizzie’s tiny bedroom. “She was as phony as a two-dollar bill. ‘Oooh, Oooh.’” Emma tried to mimick Abby in a high-pitched whine. “‘All my money is missing. All my jew-ells.’ I don’t think I need to tell
you
who orchestrated that little robbery.
Or
who she’s going to pin it on.”

“Emma,” Lizzie said, “you can’t possibly think that Abby is going to blame you?”

Emma looked at Lizzie, sitting calmly in her rocking chair. Sometimes the girl could be so thickheaded. “That’s exactly what I
do
think, Lizzie. They’re trying to make life unbearable for me here. They think that sooner or later I’ll leave, and then they’ll be able to do as they damned well please around here with no thought to anybody’s troubles but their own. Well,” she said, growing ever more agitated by the moment, “they won’t have it their way. They won’t.” Emma stopped pacing and stood quietly next to Lizzie’s door. She could only remember Abby’s eyes filled with accusation when Emma went up the stairs to her bedroom to find out what had upset her so much. Accusing eyes. Accusing eyes.

Emma felt Lizzie’s hand on her wrist. Lizzie tugged gently on Emma’s hand, which came away from her mouth with blood on her knuckles.

“Your mouth is bleeding, Emma,” Lizzie said. “You were rubbing your lips again with your knuckles. Come. Sit over here. You’ve got to learn how to calm down.”

“Calm down?” The concept was ludicrous. “Calm down? Lizzie, they’re likely to have me arrested.”

“It could as easily have been me, Emma, or Maggie. Lord knows she didn’t have much worth stealing.”

“That’s the point.” Emma blotted her bleeding lips with a handkerchief Lizzie handed her. Her knuckles were cut as well. “Who would want her ratty things? Not me. Not you. I’m sure Maggie has dusted her cheap jewelry every day for two years and has so far resisted temptation. Why would she suddenly take a shine to tarnished rhinestones?”

“How much money did she say was taken?”

“I think ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars! That’s quite a sum to be leaving about.”

“Her emergency money, to hear her say it. She says it was in her dresser drawer. Hidden. Said the thief had to have looked through her drawers to find it. But nothing looked ransacked to me. Everything looked normal. And only certain pieces of jewelry were missing, too. It’s not like the thief took the entire jewelry box.”

“I wonder. . .”

“Wonder! Wonder? I don’t wonder, Lizzie, and I am astonished that you would. Abby probably threw away that ugly old jewelry and gave the ten to her stupid half sister. And I am going to take all the blame.” Emma felt like squeezing something. She squeezed and twisted the handkerchief that Lizzie gave her hands hurt. She wanted to rip and tear, but she couldn’t rip that cloth, and besides, squeezing, hurting, killing something living, something small and furry would be far more satisfying.

“Have you looked in your room?”

“My room?”

“Yes, Emma, if Abby is trying to put you to blame for the burglary, then perhaps she put the missing items in your room.”

Emma jumped up and went into her room. She looked in each drawer, under the bed, in the closet. There was no evidence that anyone had been in her room. She went back to Lizzie’s. “You better search your room as well, Lizzie.” Lizzie began to open her drawers and root about in them. “Although, you know, I don’t believe either Abby or Father has a key to our rooms.”

“Oh, I’m sure Father has. Leastways, Maggie does.”

“Maggie. I believe we should talk to Maggie. I’ll do it.”

Emma went down the stairs and found Bridget stirring and seasoning the stew for supper.

“Maggie!”

“My name is Bridget, if you please, Miss Emma.”

“Yes, of course, did Mrs. Borden talk to you about her missing jewelry and money?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Did she accuse you?”

Bridget’s eyes grew large. “No, of course not, miss. Why. . . of course not.”

“Did she let on who she suspected?”

“It were a robbery, miss. It were a burglary.”

“So someone from the outside?”

“Must have been.”

“The doors were locked. You and I were home.”

“I. . .” Emma saw understanding cross the maid’s face. “I dunno, miss.” She turned back to her stirring.

“Have you seen Mr. Borden?”

“He isn’t home yet.”

“And Mrs. Borden?”

“She’s out at present.”

Emma turned on her heel and stomped through the dining room. She cold hear the rockers on Lizzie’s chair. She went up the stairs and into Lizzie’s room. “Well,” she said. “She didn’t accuse Maggie. And now she’s gone out. I don’t imagine she’ll be back until after Father gets home. He’ll come home and she’ll come home right after him, take him aside, tell him all, accuse  me and then sit in her corner sniveling to herself while he has the dirty work of proving his daughter innocent.”

“I think you’re taking this a bit too far, Emma,” Lizzie said.

Emma fixed Lizzie with a stare. “Mark my words,” she said, then walked into her bedroom and closed the door. She began to pace. She would hear Father at the door. She would run down to talk to him before Abby had a chance.

No, that would be falling down to her level of politics. No, let Father come to
her
with his accusation. She would meet him face to face. She would deny it all and there would be no proof, especially since Abby herself was the culprit.

Emma’s lips began to hurt and she stopped pacing and looked at her hands. There was blood again on her knuckles. A bad habit, she thought. I must stop doing that.

Within the half hour, the front door opened. Emma jumped up from where she had been sitting stonily in her chair. She opened the door to Lizzie’s room and exchanged a glance with Lizzie. “Don’t lie on your bed with your clothes on, Lizzie,” she said automatically, then opened Lizzie’s door and went out, without closing the door behind her. She descended the staircase and found Andrew Borden in the sitting room, shuffling through the mail.

“Father,” Emma said.

“Hello, Emma.”

“Father, have you spoken with Abby?”

“Not since this morning. Why?”

“It seems she’s had a few things missing from her bedroom.”

“Missing? Misplaced?”

“Stolen.”

“Stolen? Stolen! Had she called the police?”

“I think not, Father. I think she has a notion that I burgled the jewelry and some money.”

“You? Well that’s nonsense. Surely she was upset at the time. . .”

Emma looked him straight in the eye.

“I’ll speak with her. Is she home?”

They both heard the screen door in the kitchen slam. They heard Abby’s voice as she spoke with the maid. Emma’s face began a slow burn. She felt the flush come up from somewhere in her chest and burn its way up her throat to her cheeks. The tips of her ears felt on fire.

“Abby?” Andrew’s voice was lower with concern.

Abby came into the room, taking off the sweater she had worn to town. “Hello.”

“Abby, Emma tells me you’ve been missing some items.”

“Yes, Mr. Borden, in fact, some pieces of jewelry were missing from my jewelry box this morning. And the ten dollars I keep on hand for emergency purposes.”

“When was the last time you looked at that money?”

“Oh, mustn’t have been but a week or so, I saw that it was in its place. And the jewelry, well, I wore the necklace yesterday.”