The Mask of White and Red - Part 2

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The house did not belong to Kerrie’s son at all. Ilsa quickly worked out who was boss, and it certainly wasn't him. With her son absent for long stretches managing Lord Terrington's highland estate, Ilsa and Kerrie were both at the mercy of Shona, Kerrie’s foul-tempered daughter-in-law, who delighted in reminding them of exactly whose patience was keeping them fed and dry.

Ilsa spent her days helping Kerrie hem trousers and skirts and visiting her parents when she could. Pastor Beckford’s good will was running thin and he and the ladies that ran the respite care group had already pressured Kerrie to suggest to Ilsa that her parents be released into Ilsa’s care. As much as she wanted to look after them, where would they live?

They said it was a mob that razed her home and all but wiped the suburb of Plum Toft from the face of the earth. Shona said it was because her father was a foreigner, stealing coin from honest, hard-working folk, and that her mother was a disgrace to the Epcot name. But that couldn't be right. Her father had been the greatest surgeon in Farrowton. She’d heard the Carrick twins tittering about how handsome he was. Now he was badly burned, and her mother had suffered some other horrific fate at the hands of the mob. No one would say exactly what. They would neither of them work again as doctor and nurse. Just thinking about it made her stomach ache.

A raw, red gash now divided her mother’s once-perfect face, branching into a delta of smaller tributaries, all of which her father’s hands could once have healed, but now would remain deeply etched reminders of that terrible night. As if in a final fit of meanness, the Serpent had seen to it to leave one side of her mother’s face as smooth as porcelain, but the other was a nightmare landscape of poorly-healed flesh. Looking at the scarring was easier than facing that emotionless, perfect skin. The look that resided there had little of her mother in it. It was unblemished like the handle of her father’s scalpel, and just as cold.

She’d also seen her mother shake like a wet cat whenever any man so much as looked at her. Why her mother had changed as she had Ilsa did not know, but her mother was sadder than she'd ever been.

“You need to make them pay,” her mother said one day while Ilsa was helping her brush her hair. It was peppered now with gray, but still long and beautiful.

“Don't fill her head with that nonsense.” Ilsa turned in surprise to see Pastor Beckford’s face gathered into a deep frown. She hadn't realized he was even in the room. Seeing him gave her the same wriggly feeling she got when she saw a black cat, or stepped on a crack. When she saw him she didn't like the thoughts that popped into her mind. Her mother quietly closed her mouth and said no more on the subject.

They never spoke about that day. Her father rarely talked at all. Mostly he sat in an old winged chair, staring at his ruined hands. Her mother’s sadness was like a sickness with no cure, infecting them all.

Kerrie could be relied on to talk about anything. Of them all, she was a real friend. But even Kerrie seemed uncomfortable when Ilsa raised the topic with her.

“He did cut a dashing figure, your father,” she said. “And being foreign and all, well the ladies did love to try to catch his eye. But he only ever had eyes for your mother.”

“Shona told me that's why they did it.” Ilsa felt the lemon cake she'd eaten for tea moving uncomfortably. “Because he’s a foreigner. Because of the crackdown…”

Kerrie scoffed. “That fool woman. I ought to—” Her face softened. “Darling girl, none of this was about us. And certainly not about your Da. It's the land they want, for Lord high-and-mighty Epcot’s new steam engine line, or some such nonsense.” She laughed. “Us? We were just in the way. They’re calling it a mob, and Lord Terrington and his ilk are happy to talk about closing ports and running off foreigners, financial high-and-mighty stabilization and all…but those were Epcot’s men. I can't prove it, but I know.” The smile vanished. “So you tell me, what kind of man hurts his own daughter for profit?”

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Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of The Mask of White and Red. Stay tuned for the next episode to be released soon. If you did enjoy this, please do upvote, resteem and comment.

Part 1 is here, please do go and check it out: https://steemit.com/fiction/@thinknzombie/the-mask-of-white-and-red-part-1-make-a-minnow-sbd-pledge-special-edition

-- @thinknzombie

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