When her father made his appearance, handcuffed to a guard who looked to be almost twice his size, Nessie barely recognised him. He stood in the doorway then, spotting her, he muttered something in the man’s ear and the guard led him towards the table.
Nessie’s breath caught in her throat. Was this really the handsome father she remembered? He had lost so much weight he looked almost skeletal and his once gloriously thick hair had thinned so much that she could see his scalp through it. One of his eyes was black and closed and there was a cut on his cheek. Deep down she supposed that she had come to tell him how much she hated him for what he had done but she couldn’t stop a pang of pity piercing through her at the sight of him.
He glanced about as he took a seat, still handcuffed to the guard, then said, ‘Came alone then, did you?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, Reuben and Marcie didn’t want to come.’
He bowed his head and sighed and just for a second she could have sworn she saw tears on his lashes. ‘Can’t say as I blame ’em,’ he muttered.
A silence stretched between them until she suddenly blurted out, ‘Why, Dad? Why did you kill our mam? She loved you so much and she didn’t deserve to die like that.’ There was a catch in her voice and he caught his breath.
‘Cos I’m bad through an’ through.’ He kept his eyes downcast. ‘It’s only since I’ve bin in ’ere an’ I ain’t been able to get me hands on any opium that I’ve realised just how bad I am. There ain’t nothin’ I can say to excuse what I’ve done but I hope in the future that sometimes you’ll be able to remember happier times. The worst thing is that I won’t even be able to say sorry to yer mam. She’ll be up there.’ He thumbed towards the sky. ‘An’ I’ll be down there in ’ell, sure as eggs is eggs, but it ain’t no more than I deserve an’ I’m ready for it.’
The guard suddenly rattled his handcuffs. ‘Condemned men only get ten minutes, Carson,’ he reminded him brusquely. ‘But you will be allowed a final visit on the day of your execution.’
Tears were pouring down Nessie’s cheeks. She had said none of the things she had come to say. There didn’t seem to be much point.
‘No!’ His head snapped up. ‘I don’t want you to come again,’ he told his daughter. ‘Just go and try an’ think of me kindly now an’ again. You look fine an’ you’re doin’ well for yourself so go an’ have a good life. An’ will you …’ He gulped deep in his throat. ‘Will you tell Reuben … an’ Marcie … that I’m sorry? Marcie will know what you mean.’
Too full of emotion to speak she nodded as he rose. He reached out as if he intended to touch her but then seeming to think better of it he sighed and allowed the warder to lead him away without once looking back. Almost instantly the kindly guard who had admitted her was at her side, ‘Are you ready to leave, miss?’
She nodded numbly and rising from the hard wooden chair she followed him back through the courtyard and the many locked doors until she found herself outside the prison again where Andre was pacing anxiously up and down.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked, taking her hands in his, dismayed to see how pale she was.
‘Y-yes … but can we go home now?’
‘Of course.’
‘Was it … very bad?’ Andre could have bitten his tongue out the second the words had left his lips. What a thoughtless thing to say! Of course it must have been bad, how could it not have been?
She nodded. ‘Yes it was … but strangely not in the way I expected. I went in there prepared to tell him how much I hated him and yet I found myself feeling almost sorry for him. He … he seems prepared for what’s going to happen. In fact, I got the feeling he’s welcoming it.’
‘Perhaps we could arrange another visit?’ he suggested tentatively, but she shook her head as she mopped at her eyes with a crisp white handkerchief he had handed her.
‘No, Andre. He doesn’t want that, he made it clear. He knows he’s done wrong and he’s prepared to pay for it now so there’s no more to be said.’
‘Just as you like.’ He was afraid of saying the wrong thing so he just held her hand comfortingly as they headed back towards the station.
Both Marcie and Reuben were waiting for her when she and Andre arrived home and Marcie instantly asked, ‘Well, what did the bastard have to say for himself?’
Andre discreetly slipped away, leaving the family to talk.
‘Not a lot really.’ Nessie removed her bonnet and sank down at the table where she rubbed her brow. She could feel a headache starting behind her eyes. She would always remember this day as one of the worst of her life.
‘But didn’t he give any explanation as to why he’s done the things he’s done?’
Nessie shook her head. ‘Not really. He seems to have come to terms with the fact that he’s going to hang. In fact, I got the impression that he welcomes it and he told me to tell you both … that he’s sorry.’
‘Sorry!’ Marcie snorted in disgust, hands on hips. ‘And is that supposed to make everything right?’
‘Of course not. But at least he’s facing up to things.’
‘Hmm, well you can forgive him if you like but I hope he rots in hell,’ Marcie fumed and with that she turned and stamped towards the stairs.
On the day of their father’s execution, life went on seemingly as normal. Reuben and Andre had an early funeral to organise and they went about their business as if it was just any other day but Nessie, who was in the shop parlour, kept glancing at the grandfather clock. Not one of them had mentioned what day it was but Nessie knew that, like her, they must be thinking of it.
At a few minutes before ten in the morning she went to the shop window and peered up at the bright blue sky. On such a glorious May day it was hard to imagine that right at that moment they would be fastening the noose about her father’s neck. And then the clock began to strike and she lowered her head. It was done now and somehow the family must try to put all this behind them and get on with their lives.