Forgiving Bessie

9. Ravenspond

At the c***k of dawn on Saturday, Bessie wakes up and smiles. Under the covers, Miss Marple and Packer snuggle into her side. She slips out of bed, trying not to disturb them, and heads to the kitchen below to prepare the two-week old kitten’s formula. Looking outside the screen door into the backyard, dead leaves dance in a strong breeze.

It won’t be long until the first big snow fall, she predicts. I wonder how Leif is doing stuck in prison? Will he ever get in touch with me again? She fingers the delicate pendant around her neck containing the tiny wildflowers in the shape of bells frozen into resin he had given her for her birthday last June.

I wonder how Leif is doing stuck in prison? Will he ever get in touch with me again?“This belonged to my mother,” he had whispered when he presented it to her. “They are the national wildflowers of Sweden, her homeland. They call them the twin flowers, as they always bloom in twos. Life is better in twos, yes?”

Shyly, Bessie had raised her blue eyes to stare into his pale green ones. She could feel his breath tickle her skin when he had lifted her hair to …

Her thoughts jerk back to the present. Staring out at the cold dawn, Bessie reaches up to touch her neck, remembering his strong fingers as he had attached the lovely gift. She has never taken it off since, not even when he was arrested and deported.

Remembering why she’s downstairs, Bessie pours the warm formula from the pot on the stove into a small bowl. Taking a facecloth from the pile on the counter left there for this purpose, she runs it under hot water, wringing it out and placing it into another bowl. From the drawer, she finds a clean syringe. In the cupboard, she reaches up for the box of Milk Bones and puts some in her pocket.

Shivering at the sight of clouds thick as gray pudding scuttling across the sky outside the kitchen window, she heads up the stairs to her room in the back of the house.

Packer and Miss Marple greet her from her bed, eyes wide with expectation. “Okay, you two, food is on the way.” Bessie sits down between them, giving the dog her treat before lifting the kitten into her lap and expertly feeding him the formula. It’s become routine over the last couple of weeks; one all three are comfortable with.

After she’s cleaned up the kitten with the facecloth over the litter box, Bessie climbs back into bed for another snooze. She smiles as she drifts back into sleep.

Today’s the day she will meet with the nurse, Della St. Cloud, who looked after her while she was in a coma. Wonder what she’ll tell me … what does she know?

Wonder what she’ll tell me … what does she know?