Sepulchre - Competition One - Winner
Aunty Jessie
by Sid Cumberland
I had been in the junk shop for almost half an hour, and I still hadn’t found what I was looking for. I had 4/6 altogether. The coins were warm and sweaty in my hand. I was about to give up when I saw, on the small table which served as a counter, exactly what I wanted. Beside the gold and black till was a small purple velvet pin cushion with four hat pins sticking out of it. I coughed quietly. Just enough to wake the old man who was dozing in a wicker chair behind the table.
‘Yes, my dear?’ he asked. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘How much are the hat pins, please?’
‘They would be – now, let me think. Let’s say thruppence ha’penny each. A shilling for the lot. With the pin cushion thrown in.’
A miracle – not only had I found what I wanted, I’d still have 3/6 of my pocket money left.
‘Could I have them all, please?’
The junk shop man found a small brown paper bag and dropped the pin cushion and pins into it and flicked the bag round by its corners to close it.
‘Are they a present for someone?’ he asked as I took one of my shillings and put it on the table.
‘Yes. For my Aunty Jessie.’
‘That’s nice. She’ll like that.’
I heard the ching of the till as I closed the shop door behind me. I ran home as fast as I could and went straight upstairs to my room.
I only had enough poison for one pin, so it was important to be sure which pin Aunty Jessie would choose first. I could imagine her with one finger to her lips, saying ‘I really don’t know which one I like best!’ and making that silly pigeon face that she does. I decided she would probably go for the pink and grey stripy one, so that was the one I put the poison on. When it was dry, I put it back in the velvet cushion with the others.
The thing I hate most about Aunty Jessie is her bony fingers. She squeezes my shoulders till I want to scream. She does the silly pigeon face I told you about – she doesn’t look like a pigeon, she just moves her head forwards and then backwards again, like a pigeon looking for food. She also has a funny smell. And she isn’t my real Aunty.
I expect you’re wondering where I got the poison from. I got it in a dream. I’m not sure who from. It might have been the goat. Anyway, I remember someone asking what I would really like, and me saying ‘Some poison to kill Aunty Jessie’, and then in the morning there was a little tin beside my bed with the tiniest drop of something runny in it, just enough for one hat pin.
The day before yesterday my dad made me sing a Christmas carol for Aunty Jessie. I was asleep in bed, and I had to get up and get dressed and come downstairs and stand by the Christmas tree and sing ‘Once in Royal David’s City’. Aunty Jessie sat like a pigeon. I could almost hear her cooing. I only knew one verse. When I finished, she said it was lovely, and she squeezed my shoulder with her bony fingers till it hurt. She said she’d come round on Boxing Day. I knew I’d have to get her a present. That’s why I went to the junk shop.
The door bell rang. My mum asked me to go. I opened the door and Aunty Jessie was there. She was wearing a pale brown fur coat with leather buttons. And a pink swirly hat.
‘What a lovely smile!’ she said. I didn’t mind smiling, because I knew she would be dead soon.
We had some mince pies and Christmas cake and a cup
of tea. Aunty Jessie asked if I was going to sing another carol. I said
I wasn’t, but I had a present for her. She said that was lovely.
She didn’t know.
I brought the hat pins down, wrapped up in reindeer paper, and gave
them to Aunty Jessie. She unwrapped them.
‘Oh how lovely!’ she said.
‘How super,’ said dad, reaching out his hand.
‘Careful!’ I said. I didn’t want my dad to die. He gave me a funny look.
Aunty Jessie looked at the four hat pins. She looked at her hat. She looked at me and made her pigeon face. She put her finger to her lips.
‘Do you know, I really don’t know which one I like best! I think I’m going to try this one!’ she said.
I held my breath as she reached towards the hat pins. She took the pink and grey one. I knew she would. She put her pink swirly hat on her head, smiled at me, and pushed the pin through it.
‘Oh!’ she said. She opened her eyes wide. She put the reindeer wrapping paper on the side table with the other pins. ‘Oh dear! I don’t know what’s come over me. Oh!’
Her breathing was very noisy.
‘Let’s move you onto the sofa,’ my dad said.
My mum looked at me and said ‘You’d better go to bed.’
‘But I want to stay with Aunty Jessie.’
I sat on the floor and held Aunty Jessie’s hand. She squeezed my hand as tight as she could. But she couldn’t squeeze it hard enough to hurt.
