Unsettled Ground by Claire Fuller (best large ereader txt) 📕

herself about the dead Polly Vaughn being wept over by the lover who killed her, her voice not quite loud enough to hide the sounds of a hammer nailing the coffin closed in the parlour next door.

When Stu and Ed have gone, Jeanie and Julius stand beside the coffin.

“You can’t dig a hole that big,” Jeanie says.

“We won’t even be able to carry it out. I’m not going to let you take one end. I don’t want you dead as well.” She knows these words are his apology for shouting.

Over the weekend Julius finishes digging the hole, and without them discussing it, they decide to bury Dot on Monday morning, as they told Stu they would. It feels to Jeanie that only when they get this momentous task done will they be able to focus on the money. Julius can visit Rawson and sort out the misunderstanding, she can search the cottage thoroughly for the cash Dot borrowed, and she can telephone the electricity company to see what can be done about the overdue bill. In the afternoon she will take some vegetables to Max. Nothing will seem impossible once their mother is in the ground.

In the chest in the parlour there are tablecloths and other linen which have never been used. Folded for so long in the damp, they are sprinkled with rust stains and have creases and wrinkles that no hot iron will ever eradicate. On the old treadle sewing machine, Jeanie stitches them together into a sheet large enough to wrap Dot in several times, while Julius levers off the coffin lid with a crowbar, cursing with the effort. But it is getting the body out of the coffin, when it is so deep and on top of the door on top of the trestles, that is the hardest thing. Jeanie tips and Julius heaves and swears until the body is in his arms. There is definitely a smell now. She follows him out through the yard, moving ahead to open the gate into the garden. Beside the grave he falls to his knees and the body almost rolls in, but he catches himself in time and, nearly lying flat, perpendicular to the grave, he lowers their mother inside. Jeanie lays twigs of apple blossom on the wrapped body, but neither know what to say. They stumble over the words and, in the end, Julius says that Dot always put them first, and Jeanie adds how much she loved this garden and this cottage. Neither of them say that she has gone to a better place.

10

Together, Jeanie and Julius hitch Dot’s small wooden trailer to her old bike. It’s been a long time since Jeanie has cycled—preferring to walk with Maude. She loads a basket into the trailer, filled with boxes of eggs and the vegetables she’s picked. There aren’t many—bundles of asparagus, bulbs of fresh garlic, and lots of radishes and spring onions from the polytunnel. Max’s customers seem to buy a little of everything, rather than be able to cope with gluts, and he pays only for what he sells, a deal that her mother arranged when he first opened the deli, which Jeanie has always thought unfair.

Julius makes her promise that she will go slowly and won’t exert herself. He has a hatchet in his hand, ready to chop up the coffin for firewood. She cannot allow herself to think about how much this firewood will have cost; instead she enjoys the feeling of the air on her face as she wobbles past Pepperwood Farm and down the lane. The produce that was on the table at the bottom has gone, and the honesty box contains two pounds fifty-one, as well as a farthing—a coin that hasn’t been in use since before she was born. There is no one about in the village; the fish and chip shop is open only in the evenings and no one is sitting at the tables outside the deli. Max is inside wearing his brown apron, doing something on his phone. There aren’t any customers.

“Jeanie,” he says when he finally looks up. He comes out from behind the chiller cabinet where expensive cheeses, pâtés, and tubs of salad are displayed. Behind him on a tall rack are loaves of different shapes. “I heard the news about Dot. I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.” Max moves his arms about a lot, his hands fly together as though he’s praying. “Is there anything I can do?” He puts his fingertips under his chin.

“I’ve brought some asparagus and other things,” Jeanie says. This job—delivering vegetables to Max—was something Dot did; Jeanie has been in the deli only a few times.

“Today?” he says. “You didn’t need to come today of all days.”

She thinks for a second that he must know they buried Dot in the garden a few hours ago. She frowns. “Well, I’m here now.” She has the basket in her arms, and he looks in it.

“More radishes,” he says. “I can put them out, but most of the last lot didn’t go. It’s a bit early in the year for people to want salad.” He takes the basket from her and puts it beside the chiller cabinet. “The asparagus, though, is wonderful. I can take as much as you can bring.” There isn’t any asparagus left in the garden, but plenty more radishes, and if she doesn’t pick them soon, they’ll become mealy and dry. “Let me make a note of everything,” he says. He counts the bundles in the basket, holds his thumb to a screen which he gets from behind the counter, and flicks it, touching various areas with his index finger, all too fast for Jeanie. When he finishes, he looks up and smiles. “There we are then. Can I get you a coffee?”

She’d love a coffee, but she isn’t sure whether he’ll charge her for it or if it will be free and she doesn’t want that floundering moment of confusion. “No thanks,” she