Page 87 of Deliver Us From Evil

“Yer ma was such a stubborn girl,” Charlie says lightly as he opens the photo album. “She did what she wanted. When she got an idea in her head, no one could stop her.”

A nostalgic chuckle leaves Imogen.

“Here is what I mean.”

Charlie turns the photo album so I can see the first page, which has an aged photograph of a class picture. About twenty pupils are dressed immaculately as their parents clearly wanted this memory to be one they would look back on proudly.

I notice all the little girls are wearing dresses, all but one.

Her blue eyes dare the photographer to comment on her appearance, and of course, they didn’t because my ma is the only wee girl wearing trousers. Back then, it would have been unheard of for a girl to wear trousers, but it seems my mum didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought.

“Yer ma was awful stubborn, but she was also quare smart. Her nose was always in a book.”

Charlie offers me the photo album, encouraging me to flick through the pages. I’ve never been offered this before, so now presented the opportunity, I take it.

Charlie commences sharing stories about my mum while I turn the pages of the album, gazing at each photograph, too afraid to blink. As my mum gets older, her personality shines through—she appears playful, a free spirit who wasn’t afraid to try anything.

It’s sensory overload, and my brain has a hard time connecting this person as my mum. I don’t even see her as a person anymore. But being able to live her life through these photographs makes her real—makes what I’m fighting for real.

And when I peer up, locking eyes with Sean, he knows it. He knows I won’t be beaten.

The photos suddenly lose their light, and I don’t mean that they were taken in the wrong lighting. My mum’s spark, it’s gone. The carefree woman now seems plagued, like she carries the world on her shoulders…and I know why that is.

She became a Kelly.

Her spirit was crushed because like a bird, her wings were clipped, and she was tossed into a cage. No wonder she fell for Sean’s bullshit. She was unhappy, a young woman caught up in a world she didn’t understand.

And he provided her a haven, a light in the darkness. I know this because he did the same thing to me.

The last photograph stops my heart. It’s of my ma, hands on her swollen belly as she smiles; a true smile. As this candid photo was taken mid-speech, it’s safe to assume whatever she was whispering to her belly was a promise that it would be just her and me.

Her light returned, and it returned because of me. For once in my life, I brought light instead of darkness.

Babydoll places a reassuring hand on my thigh, reading my inner thoughts. This is all too much.

“No hard feelin’s for burnin’ down yer last gaff?” I say while Charlie snorts in laughter. “I don’t know how ye managed to save these from the fire, but I’m awful glad ye did.”

I offer him the album, but he shakes his head. “They belong with you. Yer ma would have wanted that.”

Imogen bursts into tears. “Happy Birthday, Cara.”

Charlie places his hand over my knuckles, the ones which spell my mum’s name, and smiles. “Not one for tattoos myself, but this one, I like. Happy Birthday, wee sis.”

Babydoll sniffs beside me.

The mood has mellowed, but this little trip down memory lane has not softened me. If this is Sean’s way of waving a white flag, I’m about to use that flag to wipe his blood from my hands.

“Tea is almost ready,” Siobhan says, blowing her nose on a tissue before heading into the kitchen.

“Uncle,” I say between clenched teeth.

Charlie smiles, but when he realizes it’s not him I’m addressing, he quickly stands and helps Siobhan.

“Can I have a word?”

Sean nods, but when he stays put, I gesture with my head that we’re to speak outside.

He complies as it would look far more suspicious if he refused.

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