Rise & Fall

Rise & Fall

“Just because a fight is too big to win, doesn’t mean it’s not worth fighting.”

It’s safe to say that her home in Cornwall was Josephine’s favourite place in the entire world. It was, in her eyes, paradise on earth. She knew quite a lot about paradise from her father’s sermons every Sunday morning. It would be lush and green, constantly sunny, and full of natural colours, blooming like flowers. Everything reminded her of home. The large garden had the lushest green grass, and flower beds bursting with colour, crowned by the glorious pink roses that climbed the pale blue wooden frames that held the glass roof above their little grey patio. Upon that patio sat bright blue garden chairs, covered in chipped paint and made of twisted metal. It was in plain sight of the rope swing hanging from a cherry tree in the end of the garden, in front of the mulberry bush. She would play on it in her childhood, while eating these home-grown fruits.

Her glorious childhood.

Now the busy city streets full of pollution and smoke from the dull, brick, factories replaced them. The cruel, dark, lonely city streets were poles away from the childhood she had adored. Much to her surprise, she even missed those annoying fat bumblebees that would buzz around the flowers and the sugar bowl when they had tea parties outside. Even the insects here were sharper and more ruthless.

In his old age, cynicism had crept in and chipped away at his faith till he could stand it no longer. Her father refused to stand before their village each week and tell stories he didn’t believe in, to people who used religion to justify and hide their sins. He had hung up his collar, and given up on religion.

Which meant now he, her mother, Josephine, and Mrs Dixon, who had become more of a nanny to Josephine, and didn’t much want to leave them, had to move to the city to suffer there instead.

Her father had asked Josephine’s godfather to help find him a house, which he’d asked an acquaintance, John Thornton to do, which he had palmed off to his assistant. Being a factory owner, he had more important things to do with his time. So far, in just under a month of living here, Josephine had met him only once, and watched him beat a worker for having a cigarette in his mouth while working. It seemed cruel, but Dixie insisted it was a health and safety issue, and she was probably exaggerating how harsh it had been.

Not that Dixie could know. The only time she’d been out of the house was to buy food or wallpaper to make the house a more agreeable colour. Even so she heard whisperings.

“I don’t understand why we’re such a centre of gossip!” She complained, “people drop out of religion and move across the country all the time, this is nothing!”

“Ignore them all, they know nothing!” Her father said, calmly, from behind his newspaper.

“It’s because it’s strange for a vicar to up and move from his pasture after forty-seven years there!” Her mother complained.

“It is strange dad. People don’t give up their livelihoods and move to such dead-end places like this for nothing. They only do it to escape things,” Josephine agreed.

“Like murders. You fleeing a murder charge Richard? That I’d understand,” Dixie said.

The rotund woman was made of smiles. Curves and bends that looked like grins covered her whole body, from rosy cheeks to stretch marks on her thighs. Right now, though, she was looking rather annoyed.

“Josephine, go out and get us some butter,” her mother ordered.

Her mother was an old woman now. She didn’t like to fight, but when she ordered something as sharply as she did here, she was to be obeyed. Plus, Josephine didn’t want to watch her parents fight.

“I’ll make notes for you to read later,” Dixie whispered with a cheery wink.

“You go too Dixie. Drive her there,” her mother ordered.

Dixie groaned begrudgingly and stood up to join Josephine on her way downstairs.

“I blame you for this,” she said, “never worried about me listening in to the gossip before you came around.”

“That was twenty years ago Dixie,” Josephine pointed out.

“Seventeen actually,” Dixie said.

Since there was no free parking in the carpark and she was only running in for some butter, Dixie just threw Josephine out of the car and drove off to come back and pick her up in five minutes.

Josephine left with her head in the clouds and her headphones in her ears. Everyone else was wandering around in their own bubbles, ignoring everyone. Even the cashier was replaced with a machine so there was no one to talk to. She barely had enough money to buy the butter, and argued with the machines about whether the butter was in the bagging area or not. She ended up just walking out and leaving the two pence change in the pot it fell into.

Outside, she realised that Dixie had circled the carpark again, before leaving, to drive around the shop, and come back to pick her up. It was going to take a few minutes for her to get back. While waiting for her, Josephine leaned against a wall. Suddenly she drew the attention of a group of young men. All of them were dressed like they were unemployed, except their shirts had their name tags pinned to them, so they had to have just come from work.

They locked eyes on her like a wolf with an antelope. Before even approaching her, they started yelling obscenities across the car park. She frowned at them, and tried to pretend she didn’t know who they were talking to. Silently she willed Dixie to hurry up.

Then they all came scurrying over and surrounded her, trapping her against the wall. Each of them had terrible sneers and even worse breath. Their language was worst of all.

Josephine had never experienced catcalling before, and being pushed up against a wall, trapped in a carpark by her attackers, all alone... you could understand why a young woman might feel so terrified.

That’s why when an elder man in dark, shabby clothes came over to break them up, even in such raggy dress, he was a knight in shining armour to her. He even waited for Dixie to come back with her.

“They won’t hurt you really. They’re just kids being stupid. Is this your car?” He asked.

She nodded, too nervous to talk. He gave her a soft smile.

“Be careful around here at lunch time. A lot of idiot’s ready to be idiots about,” he said as he opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” was all she could manage in reply.

He wished her a safe journey, before vanishing into the dull crowds. Josephine buckled herself in, and slouched down in the seat, covering her face with her hand.

“What’s up with you?” Dixie asked.

“I don’t know what just happened and I hope it never happens again,” Josephine muttered.

She explained to Dixie what had happened. Dixie gave her an empathetic look, and warned her, in all seriousness, that there was a good chance this wouldn’t be the only time this happened to her. Or something like this anyway.

“Country boys aren’t good but they’re usually held accountable for it. City boys are allowed to be dirt because everyone else is. It’s not a nice place to live, but it is the only place where any jobs are on offer. Mostly,” Dixie explained.

“I hate it here,” Josephine sighed.

“I know. I do too, but we’re here now and we aren’t going anywhere. If there’s something you don’t like, either find a way to appreciate it, or make a change and make a difference. We’re in a dog eat dog world now duck. We have to start fighting now,” Dixie said.

Dixie had grown up in poverty. Her family were miners back in the eighties, when Thatcher wouldn’t make them safe. She lost family members through collapses, and she almost starved since they couldn’t afford food. Life was hard then. It felt like they were heading back towards it now.

Like a bowling ball towards the ground.

When they got back to the house, things looked worse than ever. The electricity had gone off, since they couldn’t afford to pay it. They say electricity is silent, but it isn’t. Not really. It’s just that the powerful hum is so low it’s easy to drown out. When it’s not there, however, you noticed. Now the house was even more deadly silent, and mildly terrifying.

This hallway had never had much light, since for some reason the steps were painted black, and the walls were a similar colour underneath the new eggshell blue wallpaper. All the light for it came from either the high window at the bend in the stairs, or the set of jam-jar shaped light bulbs on a metal stick, on the ceiling at the top of the stairs.

There was no ceiling between the bend in the stairs and the second floor, so the builders had put the lights too high to light the bottom floor properly. Since most of their time was spent on the second floor in the living room, they didn’t tend to worry about it.

Still it was sinister to hear such a bleak house so deathly silent.

“Mum? Dad?” She called.

Her voiced echoed slightly against the narrow corridor. Just as she was beginning to feel a little anxious, she felt someone grab her from behind. Josephine yelped in alarm, and Dixie howled with laughter.

“You’re too easy Pearl,” she laughed.

Josephine rolled her eyes.

“Well back up those stairs and find out what’s happened to the heating. It’s freezing in here,” Dixie rubbed her arms to prove it.

She found her father in the study. I say study, but it was actually a bathroom that had had the toilet removed at some point, and bookshelves stuck up on the wall. There were still navy-blue tiles instead of wallpaper. The only plug socket in here had a single stand up lamp plugged into it, that was currently not working.

“The electrics gone. Your mothers heading to the shop to put money on the key,” he explained.

“Oh,” Josephine said.

She didn’t want to ask her father where the money was coming from, but he could see the question written on her face.

“I found a job at a college down the street. I’ll have to volunteer there for a while before they give me a firm pay, but it’s better than nothing,” he said.

There was a tone of uncertainty in his voice that made Josephine realise that this was hard on him too. He had given up everything to come here, and it turned his family against him. She realised that she had been harsh to someone who needed her like she needed him.

Josephine hugged her father from behind and rested her cheek on his head.

“You’ll be fine Dad. We’ll all be fine,” she promised.

No matter how terrible things got, they had to stay together.