THE EX-CON
The old bus, chugging and reeking of petrol, rattled off down the lane, leaving the woman by herself. She looked aroundnothing here had changed. The same muddy road, thick with black slush, snaked through the countryside. The hedgerows still wore their splattered, wintry grey. In the dusky distance, the village stretched in a neat line along the edge of the woods. The windows, glowing gold in the twilight, lent a homely touch, punctuated by the bark of dogs and the angry honking of geese.
Nothings changed here in six years, Helen thought, well, barely. Only to the right, on the hill, the old row of farm machinery no longer glimmered under worn-out lamps. Just darkness there now. Who knows what had become of the Williamson placemost likely sold off by the heirs.
Helen made her way onto the village high street, half-expecting someone to lob a stone her way. She was certain there were judgmental eyes peeking out from behind every curtain. Keeping her scarf low over her face, she hoped to go unnoticed. What waited for her here? Was there anything left of her home? There was nowhere else for her to go, though. She had to come back, even if the villagers resented her. Thanks to her, half the village lost their jobs six years back.
Since then shed changed, in every wayinside and out. The carefree girl with the sparkling eyes who once captivated Charles Williamson was long gone. Helen, a pretty brunette with wide blue eyes, had no family and lived alone in a wonky old cottage at the edge of the field. Back then, people almost worshipped Charles. Most of the villagers worked for him.
When Helen moved in with Charles, she thought shed hit the jackpot in life.
But it wasnt so simple. Charles fancied himself the local bigwig, a bit of a tyrant by all accounts. To him, Helen was little more than a servant at his beck and call, but dazzled by the interest of such an important man, she didnt see his true nature straight away. He started by cutting her off from her friends, then banned what he called improper clothes and even forbid make-up. Her life became a list of dos and (mostly) donts.
She stayed at home waiting for him, cooked hearty meals, kept the house spotless. There was no question of Helen getting a jobCharles wouldnt allow such a thing. He always suspected there was someone else, and his jealousy bordered on madness. Helen tried endlessly to prove she was faithful, but deep down she realizedit wasnt about her, it was him. No matter how she twisted herself, he was never satisfied.
It got to the point where he became violent. So Helen went back to her ramshackle cottage, hoping to put it all behind her like a bad dream. But the worst was still to come.
Charles stormed in the day after she left. Helen was mopping the kitchen floor, doors all open to the summer breeze, the freshness of it filling the house. There was peace in the rhythm of cleaning. Suddenly, Charles kicked the bucket halfway across the room, water flooding everywhere. Helen knew shed be next.
After that, Helens memory drew a blank, as if her mind was sparing her from reliving it. When she came to, police officers filled her garden, waving a bag right under her nosewith a kitchen knife inside. Nosy neighbours crowded by the fence; inside, the kitchen was in chaos, curtains torn aside and furniture upended. Lying there in the middle of it all was Charles.
Shes done him in! she heard someone huff outside. If she hadnt been so flirty, hed still be alive! What more did she want? She lived like a queen! Topped a good man, she has! Whatll become of us now? It was only thanks to him we had jobs round here! On and on the crowd muttered, Whatll happen? Howll we get by?
Helen was sentenced to six years in prison, sent to a regular womens facility. It wasnt easy, but it was never as awful as shed feared. With her quiet kindness and knack for listening, Helen made a few friends, and their company got her through the worst of it. Outwardly, she was unrecognisableno sign of the pretty, trusting girl with star-bright eyes. She grew heavier, silver threaded her hair, and she lost all desire to dress up or make herself pretty. Shed have never imagined ending up behind bars. As they say, Never say never to the workhouse or the prisonlife can shatter in a moment. And now, she was an ex-con.
Helen hid her face in her scarf, heart thudding as she approached her old home. Was her cottage even still there? Maybe someone had chopped it up for firewood But sure enough, at the far side of the field, between two sprawling silver birches, stood those familiar walls. From the hollow below crept a chilly draft, a brook babbled, and frogs croaked among the rushes. Shed pictured this moment so many times in her dreams. Beyond the hollow, the woods beckoned, full of mushroomspuffballs, field mushrooms, brown-caps Made her want to grab a basket and go right then!
She slipped through the gate like a shadow and found the hidden key where shed always left it. When she opened the door, she braced for that musty whiff of damp and abandonmentbut it smelt fine. Flicking the light, soft yellow glow filled the kitchen. It was spotless; geraniums bloomed pink on the windowsill. Helen stared, not quite believing it. She wandered from room to roomeverything in its place, nothing disturbed. Someone had been looking after the house while she was away.
Helen, Hellen! called a voice from the porch, and in bustled the neighbour, Edith. Blimey, she said instead of hello, you do look different Saw your lights on and shot roundbrought you a bit to eat, you must be starving after that journey. She set down a jar of milk and a loaf of bread, wrapped lovingly in a towel. Thank you, Helen managed a smile, was it you keeping an eye on my house? Course it was, Edith replied, cant just leave a cottage empty out here
Thank you, thank you so much! Helens voice caught and tears welled up. Ill nip off then, said Edith. A lot of the blokes round here still havent forgiven you, mind. If my old man finds out Ive been visiting, Ill be in for it!
Helens heart felt a bit lighterat least someone was on her side. She poured a glass of warm milk when she heard a nervous knock. There stood a gawky lad, about thirteen, awkwardly handing her a parcel. Mum said to bring this, he stuttered, shoving it at her and dashing off. Thank you! she called after him, but hed already disappeared. She didnt recognize himkids had grown so much in six years. The bundle gave off the mouth-watering scent of smoked ham and Helens stomach rumbled.
Thats when Annie barged in without knocking and hugged her hard. Theyd been the best of friends, once upon a time before Charles. Helen burst into tears, I thought everyone would want nothing to do with me Oh, come off it! Annie said, theres such a thing as sisterhood, isnt there? It was self-defence, no matter what they say. The blokes round here will never understand womens troubles, and thats why theyre so cross. Edith told me you were back. I just nipped over, brought you a load of veg from the garden. Rest up todayyou and I can have a right catch-up tomorrow!
Helen was so moved she could hardly eat. She realised shed been wrong about the villagersat least, wrong about some. The women understood and stood by her. When she finally slipped into her fresh bed linen, shed hardly closed her eyes when there was a firm knock at her window. Even in the dark she recognised the solid frame of George. Unofficial headman of the village, respected by all.
Dont come out, he said. Lets chat through the window. Weve all had a thinkme and the ladsand its daft, holding a grudge against you. Maybe women know different things, but you werent to blame for what happened. Course its been tough with no work, but Charles had it coming, lets be honest. And anywaywell, I wont say more. Weve had a whip-round and collected a bit of money for you. Just take it. Helen felt awkward, but George simply tossed the bundle through the window and melted away into the night.
Written by Ann Fisher.
