Work Text:
For Oz Diva, who wanted a look inside Li's head.
January, 1933
Li knew it was portentous, Carl Meredith's daughter arriving in the last days of the Year of the Water Monkey. That meant clever, and stylish, and also that neither Li nor anyone else should have been all that surprised when in after-years said daughter and the resident simian overlord became an imperious, irrepressible dyad. Of course, Li couldn't have known how portentous until long-after years, when Una Meredith sat down on the other side of the world and put them all back together, but she knew this was important.
And anyway, that came later, Una and the broken puzzle pieces of the Meredith family. The story of the monkey that waited. First came a wave of warm, lazy sunshine. The rain had tapered off early that year, and the days were balmy, uncomfortably so for Li. So that January they took their tea indoors, Li half lying against the settle for comfort, a red tea bowl cradled in her hands, and Una sitting poised on the footstool to be closer to the coffee table for ease of pouring out. It saved Li moving, and she took care to do it Li's way, across the teacups for an equal strength. That afternoon it was a pale yellow oolong hand-picked up in the mountains of the mainland, and it tasted of spring blossoms.
Carl was on the settle too, Li's feet in his lap, rubbing circles into the soles, while Puck sat furiously atop that same settle and tried to divert his favourite's attention. He did this by throwing peanuts, occasionally by squealing. When he squealed the baby kicked. If Li had thought about it, she might have thought that this was an early herald of their kinship. She did not, because her feet hurt, her back was sore and the tea was warm and still in her cupped hands.
Then the sun shifted, Li groaned, and Puck leapt delicately onto Carl's shoulder. It became very clear very quickly to Li what was happening, and clearer still that left to his own devices Carl would panic. Now he paced the sun room with Puck on his shoulder and actually wrung his hands. Li hadn't thought people did that outside of books.
'There's no point in going to the hospital,' he said. 'The King Edward won't take her in. It would be a wasted trip, and then we'd be in the middle of the city and – '
'So we won't go to the hospital,' said Li. She said it stiffly, because a wave of hurt rippled up and down her back, and dove into the unseen places of her body. It threatened to tear her in two, which was apt, she thought, because wasn't that just what the world would do to this baby? Pull and claw at her in an everlasting tussle that proclaimed her neither one thing nor the other?
She grimaced and Una got a hand under her shoulders in support.
'Dozens of babies,' said Una staunchly, 'have never had the luxury of a hospital. We didn't.'
'Right,' said Carl. 'But the doctor won't come here, either, probably, or if he does, he'll go away on arrival, and obviously – '
'Obviously nothing,' said Una.
Simultaneously Li said, 'Carl, you are not helping.'
'But,' said Carl, helpless.
'No,' said Una firmly, 'you're not. Look, what you're going to do is go down the road and fetch Miss Bertram. She's done this before, and she'll do it as a favour to me.'
Li breathed deeply through her nose and focused on Una with her plan. Thought about how it was a good plan, and how Una and Miss Bertram had delivered any number of local babies these last few years, never mind the nationality. It helped a bit with the fury bubbling away under her skin. It had been there ever since mention of the hospital, simmering away behind the shock of labour, where it was coming to a fine, rich boil. It was there and it was as useless as the doctors that would not touch her or the baby. Li breathed again thought Not now. She must not waste such feeling, such energy on a tantrum. Later, she knew, there would be more pain and more hurt, and possibly she would die if she did not have this reserve of righteous fury to hold on to, if she could not fight like a tiger for the life of this child. So she breathed through her nose and counted to 40, and then back down to zero, then to ten for good measure.
'Una has done it before,' said Li, and breathed deeply. 'Yes? For the mission?'
'Yes,' said Una. 'Many of the mission women have. Miss Bertram will whip round for more if we need more hands. But we won't.'
'Right,' said Carl, but he still looked doubtful, his good eye wide, blue and anxious as an ocean. On his shoulder Puck shuffled from foot to alarmed foot.
'And when you've done that,' said Una to Carl, 'you're going to take That Monkey into the garage, and your research work also, and you are going to revise it next to Papatee until I tell you – or send someone to tell you – to do otherwise.'
'Right,' said Carl again. 'I suppose Puck should really…'
'Oh, take Puck with you,' said Una, perhaps more shortly than was necessary. But Li understood that because the baby was coming now, and that necessarily took precedence. Una began to help Li move towards the stairs, and thence the bedroom, and really, the last thing Li needed she thought as they went was Puck and his peanuts underfoot, shrieking and squealing amidst the chaos. Of course, Miss Bertram sounded unlikely to appreciate Puck on her doorstep either, but Li forbore to point this out. Needs must.
Carl set off, Puck chattering as they went, his little simian hands wrapped around Carl's neck.
They went out and Una and Li gained the stairs, where Nenni sat atop the newel post. She looked down and across at them as they passed her, almandine eyes narrow and dubious. Must you really? She seemed to ask. Li took no notice. She was vaguely aware of Una's murmured contrition to the cat. Up the stairs, halfway, and they paused to breathe. Well, Li tried to, anyway. Then up again, up and into the sanctuary of her room, which was somehow even warmer than downstairs. Una lingered by the window, debating, and decided on opening it. Li, her hands braced against the lacquered dresser, nodded gratefully.
They began together to strip the bed, appreciative of the breeze that drifted in through the windows. It was warm, but refreshing and full of shivering leaves and the call of the mynas and oriels. They were singing the hymn Una liked as she and Li rolled the sheets to the far end of the bed. Li paused for breath, bent double, and breathed again. She said, 'I want my mother.'
She sounded incredibly small to her own ear, smaller even than the far away mynas and oriels.
'Of course you do,' said Una as she rubbed her back. 'Here, sit down.'
Where was Miss Bertram? But there was no point asking; Una didn't know and Carl wasn't there. Surely he hadn't got lost?
'Mother Rosemary,' said Una as she rubbed circles into Li's back, 'baked a cake when Bruce was born. Groaning Cake, they call it. She had the recipe from her mother, who had it from hers.'
'A cake?' said Li. 'You are sure?'
'I helped her with it,' said Una.
'But…' said Li, and breathed heavily again, 'How?'
Li watched Una watching her as they sat on the bed and counted together the space between contractions. Una smiled ruefully at her and shook her head. 'I really don't know.' She made it sound like an apology, and Li squeezed her hand to signal that this wasn't necessary, that she recognised Una had been trying to think of something, anything to say.
'We could try,' said Li, but her forehead was damp, and the weather was hot enough without adding baking in an enclosed kitchen to the mix. Una shook her head. She got her arm under Li's and together they began to walk the room.
'Tell me how you met Carl,' she said, instead. 'I don't think I've ever heard that story, somehow.' Outside, under the window, the mynas and oriels chorused agreement.
From downstairs came a creek, a yowl, and a bustling as Miss Bertram's practically-shod step collided with what Li supposed to be Nenni's self-righteous, somnolent doughnut on the stairs.
She bustled further into the bedroom and said as she spread her things across the lacquered dresser, 'I'm afraid I frightened your cat coming in.'
'That is Nenni,' said Li with effort. 'She runs away from everyone who is not Una. We do not exist, or exist on a lesser plane.'
'I see,' said Miss Bertram. And to Una, 'If you'll forgive me, Miss Meredith, I'll just go put the kettle on.'
'Of course,' said Una. 'Li is going to tell me how she and Carl met.'
'Excellent idea,' said Miss Bertram with what was perhaps more than normal zeal and marched briskly out of the room before Li had fully taken in the surrealism of Una signing her kitchen over to someone else.
'Now,' said Una, as they rested by the windowsill, mynas and oriels chattering away, 'it was in the botanical gardens?'
'Yes,' said Li. 'I was sketching irises. They grow very tall there, willowy. They bow at the middle, the stalks, because of the height.' Here she squeezed Una's arm hard. 'They look like…like young ladies bowing to passers-by. Very lovely manners, I always thought, and of course I wanted to draw them.'
'Of course,' said Una.
'I have it still,' said Li. 'That sketch. I must show you – but afterwards, I think.'
Una agreed that this was a sensible way to order things. 'So I was sketching the blue women, which was what I called them. I learned afterwards your name for them. Trinity flowers…'
'Because they cluster in threes,' said Una for her while Li caught her breath.
'Yes,' said Li, bracing her hands against the headboard. She stood there like that, half bent for what seemed a long time, but was probably minutes stretched taut and long with nerves and pain. Stood and breathed and wanted her mother unbearably. The wanting of her pulsed sharp and sore through Li's body in all the usual places, wrists and stomach and neck and thighs. The mynas and oriels continued their late-afternoon serenade, and the smell of jasmine came through the window. Downstairs Li heard the kettle come to a blistering, angry boil. It screamed and the mynas screamed back at it.
'But then,' Li said, 'they were blue ladies, and I had not met Carl. I was sketching, and I did not see him.' She let go of the bed and said as they began to walk again, 'He did not see me either, you understand. I was on his wrong side. And he had Puck with him. Puck is a very useless guide to Carl.'
Una laughed in spite of herself. So did Li, and then stopped to clutch at the dresser because laughing was beyond her.
'Sorry,' said Una. Li shook her head.
'Not your fault,' she said, but breathless. 'Anyway, Carl tripped over me, which Puck thought was quite funny. He laughed quite a lot, Carl's Puck.'
'Puck would,' said Una. Still, it was hard not to smile at the image.
'It was good it was only a sketch,' said Li. 'He would have made a mess otherwise. Instead Puck ran off with my pencil. He tried to eat it, too. He did not like that at all and was cross with me about it.' Li shook her head, reminiscent. 'But Carl got it back for me. I think he even scolded Puck.'
Una was laughing again, Li thought it was in disbelief as much as anything else. 'I know,' said Li, 'I have never seen him do it since, either. But he did that day. And he told me about the Trinity Flowers that were my blue ladies. Very beautiful though, either way.'
'They're my favourite,' said Una. Li nodded agreement. At this juncture Miss Bertram arrived back with the boiling water, and Li knelt on the bed. Miss Bertram clucked her satisfaction at the progression of things.
'After that,' said Li, 'he bought them for me. Irises. They were blue – Iris-blue like your Good Days Gown.' Una smiled at the use of the ACS children's moniker for her one good, all-purpose dress for occasions. Then she batted a curious Nenni from the windowsill. That, like the signing over of the kitchen was abnormal, but it hardly registered on Li's radar. Nor on Nenni's; the cat took no notice; she stretched leisurely out and commenced to sun herself. Well, thought Li, at least the audience isn't throwing things.' They were beautiful,' said Li now, not for the first time. 'Very beautiful.'
It was the most natural thing in the world that the baby, when she arrived minutes later, was named for them. She was slippery with life, dark, and wet with the shell of existence, but wonderfully beautiful. Perfect, even. Her eyes were Li's deep, opalescent moons, but the shape was Cecilia Meredith's, was Carl's. Una's too. And under the wet and the life, Una said she had Li's colouring.
Miss Bertram said, delighted, 'A caul! I haven't caught a baby with one of those for a long time!'
Li could not grasp this, so Una, translating, said, 'It's good luck, or that's the belief.' Li thought she skipped over some of the technicalities, but was too worn out to blame her. She would never have understood anyway.
'Good,' said Li. Miss Bertram folded the caul gingerly, and offered to set it aside for the mother.
'Would you like that?' said Una.
'Can't hurt her to have luck,' said Li, 'however she comes by it.' After years of deliberating whether to spend a quiet night in with the buffalo or risk a walk through the city this seemed inarguable logic. Opposite her, Una nodded agreement. Miss Bertram set the caul aside, caught the afterbirth, and by the time Carl was summoned into the room to meet his daughter, she was named.
'Iris,' said Li, holding the baby out to her father, 'because they were the first thing you gave me, and she is the first child I've given you. And because they are lovely, and so is she.'
Carl said nothing, just thumbed his fingers across the delicate face, which was waxen and malleable in the way of new-born faces, and did not speak.
'But you,' said Li shifting her head on the pillows and turning so she could look at Una, 'you are family too, and I love you. So she must have your name, too. And your mother's, because she was very important to you.'
'I thought,' said Carl, his voice scratchy, 'you wanted your mother's name for her?'
'She is not here,' said Li. 'Neither is your mother, but she could not be, and mine could. It is different.'
So they wrote it on the paperwork, Iris Una Cecilia Meredith, but it was much too long a name for everyday use. It was too long even, really, for special occasions. She was their Iris, their delicate blue lady, a Trinity Flower for Trinity House. Nenni stretched lugubrious liquidity upon the windowsill, bored now by the familial tableau, and tucked her nose daintily between pink-padded paws. Akela though, came and snuffled dutifully at his new charge. He touched a wet, rough nose to iridescent fingers and Li smiled sleepily.
But it was Puck that really sealed Iris's tenure there. Li felt this immutably the moment he arrived in the room. He bounded in with a clutch of peanuts and a squeal like an overboiling pot. But then he saw Iris in her blanket nest, and crouched low to the ground. He put his hands to the floor and walked on surprisingly elegant all-fours, atypically quiet. Then, perhaps most improbable of all, he climbed up onto the bed next to Li, put out his little, clawed hands, scattering the peanuts, and to the horror of mother and aunt, plucked the little knitted bundle of infant from Carl's arms. Even Carl's good eye, suspiciously glossy, narrowed a little over that. Li had to hide a tired smile in her pillows, watching.
Puck though, just sat there on the edge of the bed, feet swinging, and rocking Iris back and forth. He was surprisingly careful about it, and – though Li would never have admitted it – oddly rhythmical. She did not appreciate this until he began to jabber Puck-fashion to the baby, and if she didn't know better, Li might have said he was singing. It was probably exhaustion talking, that. Back and forth Puck rocked the baby, his claws worked elaborately into the shell stitch of her blanket. And all the while he jabbered his simian lullaby and Iris never uttered a sound. She stared at him wide-eyed, but uncomplaining. Una looked at Li, and Li looked back, and they shook their heads. Carl beamed.
There ought, Li thought, to be a picture really, of Puck and the baby, but not now, and anyway, it wouldn't capture the singing. So instead she treasured it up in her heart, and thought that as luck went being crooned to by a proper monkey in the dying gasp of the Year of the Water Monkey was exactly the kind of potent, unlooked for luck they should cling to. So they did.