Southern Ruby (51 page)

A sickening sensation crept over my skin. I no longer had to guess who had shot at our window and sent the wreath. My gaze fell to the rope between his hands. I tried to scream, but I had no air in my lungs. A strangled ‘Help!' that nobody would hear died in my throat. He moved towards the bed. I struggled to extricate myself from the sheets, but my foot got caught and I tumbled to the floor.

Jimmy grabbed me, but I managed to get myself on my feet and slip from his grasp. I ran for the door, but he caught the sleeve of my nightdress and dragged me back.

‘Where are you going?' The stench of whiskey on his breath was nauseating.

He spun me round and slammed me into the wall. Then he pulled me forward before slamming me into it again. I tasted blood in my mouth.

‘I've been watching you and your husband,' he hissed. ‘You won't get away from me, you nigger-loving bitch!' His eyes looked up to the ceiling pendant. ‘I'm going to string you up like one of those niggers you love so much.'

Panic ran through me. I struggled against him and clawed at the curtains in an attempt to get away. They tumbled down to the floor. Jimmy threw me onto the bed and put his knee in my back. I felt him slip the rough rope around my neck. I was going to lose this battle and there was something I wanted to know. Something that had disturbed me for years.

‘Did you kill Leroy Thezan?' I gasped.

Jimmy turned me around to face him and squinted at me. ‘I've heard your voice before,' he said.

It dawned on me then. That night he'd attacked me and Leroy, I'd forgotten my Jewel voice and screamed at him as Ruby.

‘I know you,' he said, his eyes glinting. Then he realised where from and his eyes opened wide. ‘You're that little hussy Jewel, ain't you?' He emitted a low whistle, like he'd just been given a million dollars, and laughed menacingly. ‘Who'd have thought that grand Mrs Lalande is a slut!'

I sensed he was going to find killing me even more pleasurable now as he'd be settling old scores. There were only seconds of my life left and I repeated my question. ‘Did you kill Leroy Thezan?'

He tightened the rope and frowned as if thinking over dozens of Negroes he'd killed, perhaps too many to recall. Then he
sniggered. ‘Yeah, I remember killing that nigger,' he boasted. ‘I killed him like a dog I didn't need no more. He begged for his life but I killed him anyway.'

It took my last ounce of air to spit in his face. He slapped me so hard I almost blacked out. He stood up on my chest so I couldn't move and slung the other end of the rope through the light fixture. My arms flailed as he pulled and the world around me began to fade. For a moment I felt the terror of all the innocent souls who had perished this way.

There was a sound like a crack. I thought he must have broken my neck, but he let go of the rope. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to the floor.

I looked up to see Mae holding the cast-iron monkey I used as a doorstop. Blood dripped from it.

I rolled over and looked at Jimmy lying on the rug. His eyes were half-open but glazed over and his lips were curled back. For a moment Mae and I didn't say anything. ‘Is he dead?' she asked, finally.

Blood was seeping from his mouth now. Mae must have given him one hell of a hit. I got off the bed and grabbed his arm, repulsed by the clammy feel of his skin, and searched for a pulse.

‘He's dead,' I confirmed.

Mae sat on the end of the bed and rocked backwards and forwards. ‘I killed a white man,' she wailed. ‘They're going to hang me, Mrs Ruby. They're going to hang me or electrocute me like they did to that other woman.'

‘Hush, hush,' I said and put my arm around her, still trying to convince myself that what had happened was real and not just a bad dream. The other woman Mae referred to had been a white woman, a cold-blooded killer who'd shot a salesman. She was the only woman ever to have been electrocuted in Louisiana. ‘You killed this monster to save me, Mae.'

But even as I spoke the words, I knew she was right. With the current atmosphere of hate and fear that pervaded New Orleans,
I couldn't be sure what would happen with an all-white jury in a segregated courthouse. Perhaps if Mae had defended any other white woman, that woman's testimony would be considered enough to exonerate her. But right now the Lalandes were one of the most vilified families in New Orleans for our stance on integration. Justice did not work in the South the way it should. Any of the white supremacist judges might view executing our loyal maid as revenge for our criticism of them.

I rubbed my head and tried to think. There was no way I could take the chance of calling the police.

‘They're not going to hang you, Mae, because we aren't going to tell anybody about this,' I said finally.

Mae's eyes showed their whites, like she was a frightened horse. ‘What are we going to do?'

I was too busy formulating a plan to answer her. ‘Go wake up Ned and tell him to come quickly.'

‘T
hat's why you won't let anybody repair the porch!' I cried.

I leaned forward and waited for Grandma Ruby to confess how she, Ned and Mae had carried Jimmy's body down the stairs, stripped it of all identification, removed the porch boards and, in the dead of night, dug a grave. Instead, she looked at me blankly and said, ‘Amandine, have you lost your mind? Why would we have buried that monster here?'

She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. ‘I called on Sam Coppola for the first time since I'd left the Vieux Carré Club. He sent some men to pick up the body. Jimmy ended up where he has always belonged — in the swamp!' Despite her proud posture, uncertainty flashed in her eyes. ‘You can't expect me to be sorry. Not after what he did to Leroy! Not after what he intended to do to me!'

I wondered if I really had lost my mind from hearing too many revelations in one night. It was a moment before I could explain myself.

‘It's difficult for me,' I told her. ‘It's not as if everything is coming together neatly in a logical way. One moment I have a piece of the puzzle solved, and the next I'm swept off balance by a surprise revelation. I thought you were going to tell me why my father was drunk the night of the accident.'

Grandma Ruby lowered her eyes and twisted the rings on her fingers. I knew this was difficult for her too. She was telling me things that she'd never revealed to anyone else. I felt a kinship with her in that regard: the past wasn't always the pleasant, romantic thing we wanted it to be. My past felt like a shark that could emerge from the depths any time to take a chunk out of me.

‘I understand about Jimmy,' I continued. ‘He tried to kill you, and you had no choice but to protect Mae. I probably wouldn't have gone to the police either in those circumstances. But there is something under the porch that you don't want anyone to find, isn't there?'

She looked at me intently. ‘When I hid what I did under the porch, I never expected it to be brought to light again, but time and nature have worked against me. The porch is rotting. It's like watching an old tomb crumble and not doing anything to fix it.' She clenched her hands together so tightly that her knuckles turned white. ‘It's better we take it out together, and then you and Oliver can fix the porch. I wouldn't want anybody but you to see it. Perhaps I can be strong enough if you're with me.'

Goosebumps pricked my skin. What on earth was hidden under there? Something worse than a decomposed body? I wasn't sure if I was ready to know.

Grandma Ruby stood and walked to the door. ‘Oliver keeps a crowbar and a spade in the potting shed. I'll get the key.'

‘Now?' I said.

She turned back to me. ‘If we don't do it now, I may never find the strength again to face it.'

The air had a tinge of coolness, but it was still humid. I stuck the crowbar into a gap in the porch floor and pried up one of the boards. Sweat rolled down my back and prickled my skin. A mosquito added to my discomfort by biting me several times on the back of the knee and causing itchy welts.

The floorboards were half rotted and I could lift them without having to saw them. Before long I found myself staring into the dark space under the porch. The earth smelled pungent. I wished we could've waited till the sun came up so I could see better, but it was Oliver's day for work and Grandma Ruby had insisted that it was now or never to uncover what was there.

‘Do you have snakes here?' I asked. I'd come across enough deadly spiders and snakes in our garden at Roseville to be wary of digging around under old houses without taking precautions.

‘We get garter snakes now and then,' said Grandma Ruby, shining the torch around the space. ‘But they're harmless. Their fangs can't break your skin.'

The light caught a large rectangular metal object. I took the torch and saw that it was the lid of an army-green World War Two military trunk. I'd seen enough of them at vintage fairs to recognise one.

‘There it is,' said Grandma Ruby, her voice trembling.

I grimaced. The trunk was large enough to hold a body if you twisted the corpse into a foetal position or . . . cut off some of its limbs. I gulped and chastised myself for being so morbid.

‘It's half out of the ground,' I said. ‘The water must have pushed it up from the soil.'

Grandma Ruby shook her head. ‘We never buried it. Clifford and I hid it under the floorboards. It must have sunk into the soil over time.'

‘Clifford helped you?' I felt a surge of relief at the mention of my grandfather's name. From Grandma Ruby's description, he had been so noble, so upright, I couldn't imagine him burying anything sinister under his beloved home.

Then I remembered something Blaine had told me the day we drove out along the River Road: that during the Civil War many plantation families had buried their money and jewels in the ground. Perhaps Grandma Ruby and Clifford had been following a Southern tradition of burying their treasures.

‘Do you want to tell me what's in the trunk before I take it out?' I asked.

Grandma Ruby opened her mouth, but emotion got the better of her and she shook her head. ‘I'm not sure there will be anything left now.'

The relief I'd felt a moment before deserted me again. The situation seemed surreal, like I was overseeing a grim exhumation.

I used the shovel to clear the soil away from the sides of the trunk. Then I took the crowbar and held my breath as I prised the trunk out of the soil. The humid climate of New Orleans was brutal and I expected the metal to break apart at any moment with rust. But apart from some scuffs and scratches, the trunk was in good condition. It was also lighter than I'd expected.

‘Is it all right if I turn it on its end to lift it out?' I asked.

Grandma Ruby didn't answer, and I looked up to see her standing at the end of the porch staring at the garden.

I managed to lift and then push the trunk up onto the porch, before climbing out of the hole myself. The front clamps were rusted, so I found a screwdriver and a hammer in the potting shed to break the locks open with. As I worked at them, I kept looking back at my grandmother but she was as still as a statue.

Dawn was breaking and the sun cast a soft orange light onto the porch. I remembered what Grandma Ruby had said to Leroy about them being vampires that disappeared with the morning.
For a moment, I saw myself opening the lid of the trunk and an undead creature leaping out at me. I shook my head to get rid of the absurd image and turned my attention back to the task. Finally, the locks gave way and I pushed the lid open.

The first thing I saw was a layer of muslin that had yellowed with age. I put my hand on it and felt something soft underneath. I glanced at Grandma Ruby, but she remained with her back to me. My hand trembled as I lifted the fabric. It came away like a magician's scarf to reveal something red and sparkly underneath.

‘Oh!' I cried, when I recognised what it was.

I remembered seeing a pair of cotton gloves under the kitchen sink. I rushed to the kitchen and put them on before returning to the porch.

‘Grandma Ruby! Look!' I gently lifted the red sequined dress from the box. The matching bra and G-string were underneath. It was the outfit that Orry-Kelly had made for Jewel for one of her Mardi Gras performances.

Grandma Ruby turned slowly and the agony on her face transformed to wonder.

I'd learned enough about fabric preservation to know that we were witnessing a miracle. Although it had been packed in a watertight and airtight trunk, by rights the dress should have disintegrated from the changes in temperature or be covered in mould and mildew. But apart from some faded patches and a strong musty smell, it looked almost new.

I took it and the underwear inside and laid them out on the rug in the parlour. The sight of the costume brought not only Jewel to life before my eyes but Leroy too. The cut of the dress was exquisite. How could he not have been in awe of Jewel when she wore this?

Grandma Ruby stood in the doorway watching me, as if afraid to have any contact with the dress.

‘Why did you hide it under the porch?' I asked her. ‘Why didn't you store it in the attic?'

She was quiet for a moment before answering. ‘I never got to say goodbye properly to Leroy. I got rid of everything from the room in Chartres Street, yet I couldn't bear to part with this costume. But I couldn't keep it in the house where someone might discover it. Clifford locked the costume away in his military trunk, but when we returned from our honeymoon and I discovered I was pregnant, I knew that I had to move forward. I told Clifford I wanted to bury the trunk. It would be the funeral for Jewel and Leroy that could never have taken place publicly.

‘Clifford thought under the back porch was the best place — his mother so dominated that spot that nobody would disturb it. It was better than the garden where it might accidentally be dug up or float up after heavy rain. It was a good choice in the end, because Helen wouldn't have thought to interrupt her civil rights crusade by having anyone work on the porch. Back in those days, it was in good repair anyway.' A faint smile came to her face. ‘You defeated me, Amandine. You and your strong will and your perfectionism. What a magnificent combination of your parents you've turned out to be.'

She sat down on the sofa but still didn't touch the dress. ‘I was lucky to have been loved by two great men. Clifford was a good husband to me. He was never jealous of Leroy and did all he could to help me and to love me, including entombing the dress. If he thought it was absurd, he never made me feel it.' She paused, the beginning of a tear glinting in her eye. ‘Every night of our marriage, when Clifford came to bed he would touch my shoulder and say, “I love you, Ruby. Sweet dreams!” In the morning when we awoke, he would put his arms around me and say, “Good morning, my lovely wife.” Then one morning he didn't say anything at all. My beautiful loyal husband of nearly a quarter of a century was gone. He'd passed away quietly in the night. That was so like him, so gentle, not one to be made
a fuss over. Even now, after all these years, I ache to hear his greeting in the morning.'

Grandma Ruby's description of Clifford's death made me think of Nan. I'd been furious with her only a few hours earlier for deceiving me about the circumstances of my parents' accident. Now the grief that she wasn't in my life any more came back as a heavy suffocating fog.

‘Nan went too quickly, without any warning,' I said. ‘There was no chance to say goodbye.'

Grandma Ruby looked at me compassionately. ‘The longer you live, the more loss you will live with. I've had so many losses that at times I thought they would crush me. But something always came along to give me hope again. It was terrible to lose Clifford when he was only in his fifties, but nobody on his side of the family seemed to live to old age. Kitty had died the previous year, the same way as her mother, from a stroke. As hard as it was for me to bear the loss of my husband, it was harder still for Dale and Louise of their father. I had to be strong for them even as my own heart was breaking. But then your mother appeared like a burst of sunshine that saved us all . . . and then you were born, Amandine. Your name means “deserving of love”. Did you know that?'

I went to sit next to Grandma Ruby. Putting my arm around her and resting my head on her shoulder, I replied, ‘No, I didn't know that.'

The sleepless night and the recovery of the Mardi Gras dress had drained Grandma Ruby. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes drooped with exhaustion so I made her go to bed. Afterwards, I sat on the steps of the porch and drank a cup of tea to calm my racing thoughts. Despite not having slept either, I was too overwrought to go to bed. What I'd learned about the accident the previous night had unbalanced me, and digging under the porch for the dress had only intensified the feeling of coming unstuck.

Lorena arrived for work, but Oliver was late. I found a spool of yellow ribbon in a sewing box in the linen press and tied it around the porch posts as a safety warning. What Grandma Ruby had said about me being a perfectionist came back to me and I was seized by an idea. I went to my room and examined the restoration plan that I'd sketched out. A project was what I needed to restore my equilibrium.

Oliver would be pleased that we were finally going to repair the porch, but we needed a skilled carpenter to advise us on the tricky bits of the restoration. I knew the perfect person: Terence. The senior architect I'd worked with in Sydney had advised me to always use older carpenters. ‘The younger ones will take short-cuts so they can get off in time to go to the beach,' he'd warned. I could see that Terence was detail-orientated and meticulous. I'd arranged to have another music lesson with him that day and I could ask him about it then.

I showered and changed before checking on Grandma Ruby again. She was asleep on her back with her head and body perfectly aligned and she looked peaceful. The red dress was on a hanger near her window. There was no need to hide it any more. If anyone asked about it, I could say it was something I'd picked up in a vintage store. I'd promised Grandma Ruby that I'd contact the textiles curator at the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney, who was a friend of Tamara's, to find out the best way to clean and store the costume.