The Stopped Heart by Julie Myerson Page A

with Lottie, kicking her feet and watching.
    James laughed and told her to mind her own business, but Icould see that he was annoyed. He was dark as a pocket when it came to his own personal history.
    Is he in heaven with the angels? Lottie asked him.
    Maybe, he said.
    And are they poking pins in him because he tried to kick the door down?
    James gave her a quick, black look.
    What door? he said. I don’t know what you’re on about. My pa never kicked any door down.
    Jazzy looked at her and laughed.
    Angels don’t have pins, you nonny. They don’t have any sewing in heaven. Only clouds and stars and great big golden thrones.
    They do have pins! Lottie shouted at her. They do! I seen it when I was sleeping.
    Jazzy looked at James.
    Ah, when you were sleeping, was it? Well, that’s what we call a dream, you little goose.
    A cloud went over Lottie’s face.
    It wasn’t a dream.
    Then how did you see it? Jazzy said, and she folded her arms and waited, still looking at James.
    Lottie stuck out her lip.
    When I was in heaven, I saw it.
    Jazzy frowned.
    But only dead people go to heaven, Lottikins.
    That’s right. I died.
    You didn’t die.
    I did.
    Don’t lie. Of course you didn’t.
    Now Lottie began to cry.
    I did! After the bad man hit me with the knife, I did.
    James looked at her now and clenched a fist.
    What bad man was that, Lottie? If a man hits you, you take me to him and I’ll give him something to think about.
    Lottie’s whole face was trembling and the tears were falling out of her eyes now.
    I can’t, I can’t. I can’t take you to him.
    Why can’t you?
    She shook her head and held out her hands.
    Because I just can’t.
    I WAS SCRUBBING POTS IN THE BACK SINK WHEN HE CAME UP behind me. I smelled him before I heard him. Tobacco. Onions. And something else more alive. The bright, raw smell of a young rabbit when the skin’s come off.
    He touched my shoulder and I swung around. He was smiling like a lunatic. His teeth were strong and white and only one was missing, toward the back. His breeches were ragged and his shirt was untucked and you could see the inky swirling point of his tattoo.
    Did I frighten you? he said.
    No.
    I didn’t mean to.
    Well, you didn’t.
    He stood there not moving, looking at me. I felt my cheeks start to burn, so I turned back to the pans. My hands were sore and stinging and I was in a hurry to get the job done. I tipped the heaviest pan over onto the wooden board to drain. He folded his arms and leaned up against the wall next to me. I didn’t look at him, but I felt my skin start to prickle with his closeness.
    What’s the matter? he said.
    Nothing’s the matter.
    Don’t you want us to be friends?
    I took a breath.
    Not really, I said.
    Why? What is it? Don’t you like me?
    I don’t know, I said, and I rinsed another of the big pans and turned it over to drain.
    I felt him staring at me.
    You’re a bit of a princess, aren’t you?
    No, I said.
    Oh, but you are. It’s on your face. Princess Eliza. Look at you—you think yourself so very high and mighty and fancy and fine.
    And he looked at my face and laughed to himself as if there were something secret and interesting there that only he could see. I wanted to say something but I knew it would be no use, so I buttoned my lip. But I couldn’t help glancing at him, and as I did so, the look on his face made my blood freeze.
    What? I said.
    He shook his head.
    You don’t know it, do you? he said, laughing again. You’ve not found it out yet, have you? You’ve no idea.
    I knew he wanted me to ask him what he was talking about, so I didn’t. But I could not easily turn my face away and he looked straight into the very center of my eyes and he smiled as eerily as if he had just turned over a card and found he’d won a great fat prize.
    You’re mine, he said. It’s you I came for. It’s why I’m