The May Moose

By Rebecca Lewis

Parenting is one of the most difficult jobs in the world. How do you cope with a willful child? When Albert and Emiline Rutherford try to discipline their daughter Dorothy, things get worse as Dorothy turns to her imaginary friend The May Moose for support. Together Dorothy and The May Moose plan Dorothy's future and it is only when Albert Rutherford returns home after the Second World War that he makes a horrific discovery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc
• Release date: Aug 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781487407377

Rebecca Lewis

Rebecca Lewis is the author of the New Adult novel, Player in Paradise, and the Young Adult novel, Merch Girl. She is a lover of all things music and pop culture. Her passion for entertainment and writing brought her to Boston University, where she graduated with a Bachelor of Science from the College of Communication. During her college career, she interned for various record labels in Boston and New York City, sold merch for local bands, worked at record stores, and did a whole lot of grassroots marketing. She currently resides in Florida with her husband and puppy.

Book preview

Chapter One

Dorothy! What are you doing? Emiline Rutherford’s voice was shrill. She rushed through the double glass doors from the morning room out into the garden. Dorothy was sitting on a checked blanket on the grass, and Emiline began to relax.

Oh! There you are! Good girl! I’ll just fetch my gloves and we’ll go. Emiline turned and went back into the house.

Dorothy’s mind drifted as she fidgeted in her chair. It was hard and uncomfortable—she needed another cushion. I’ll ask for one in a minute, but as soon as she thought it, her mind drifted from 2001 and her hospital room back to the warm July afternoon of 1927, when she’d been six years old and still loved. It had been a lazy afternoon. There was a cricket match being played off in the distance. Every so often there was a loud crack as the ball hit the wooden bat and then applause as a run was scored. Now who won? I can’t remember, and Father talked about it for days after. It was too hot. Her raven ringlets had hung down, making her neck sweat, and she would have loved to kick off her white socks and shoes, but Mother would never let her do that. I was wearing my best Sunday dress. Mother had doubtlessly gone inside to check her own appearance before we set off. She was always preening. They were going to tea at the Mayton’s. May Mayton was Emiline’s closest friend, but her name, May Mayton, made Dorothy laugh.

It sounds like people are stuttering when they say her name, she’d told her mother.

The first time I heard it, I laughed until I got the hiccups, and both Mother and May had been beside themselves with indignation. She chuckled.

Her bottom began to ache and momentarily her thoughts returned to the present. She reached for the cord and pressed the bell, keeping her thumb on it until someone came.

What now, Miss Rutherford? What do you need now? Nurse Evans was young, in her mid-twenties, attractive but cold. She sounded irritated at having been disturbed, but as she stood in front of Dorothy, keeping her distance, she tried to avoid eye contact.

Arse ache, Dorothy croaked.

I’m sorry?

"You heard! Arse ache, Dorothy shouted unexpectedly, making Nurse jump. I need another cushion."

Of course! Could I have another cushion please? Nurse corrected her in a voice more apt for speaking to a naughty child than an old lady, but she pulled a bunch of keys from her pocket. She took out an extra pillow, then not forgetting to lock the wardrobe again, she dropped the keys back into her pocket and slowly went over to Dorothy.

Dorothy watched Nurse come closer and didn’t take her focus off her. Head down, she looked at the young woman over the top of her glasses. Her face was expressionless, her eyes unblinking. She could feel the nurse’s unease, could almost smell her discomfort. It excited her.

Where do you need it, Miss Rutherford, behind your back?

If I’ve got arse ache, I need it under my arse, don’t I?

Nurse flinched and Dorothy chuckled quietly to herself. It doesn’t take much to ruffle miss Haughty Taughty’s feathers, does it? She chuckled again a little louder.

Can you lean forward or stand then? I’ll push it underneath you. Nurse had beads of sweat on her forehead.

Dorothy leaned forward enough to allow Nurse to push the cushion under her bottom. She was creaky and slow, but it wasn’t hard for her to stand. Just the same, she thought she’d have a bit of fun.

Ouch! Careful! she yelled suddenly and closed her wrinkled bony hand around Nurse’s wrist, grasping it tightly until the skin went white.

Nurse gasped and jumped backward, pulling her arm in an attempt to get away. Dorothy let her go and Nurse Evans turned and fled from the room. Dorothy chuckled again and then roared out a loud hysterical blast of laughter that must have followed the nurse down the corridor back to the staff kitchen.

Dorothy wriggled back into her cushion and settled more comfortably. She turned her head to the window and looked out onto the perfect lawns and flower beds. Rain spattered her window, blurring her vision, but it didn’t matter. As she stared out she no longer saw the lawns of her home and prison, Norton Hall Psychiatric Hospital. She was back on the lawn of her parents’ house in Derbyshire, a little girl, waiting to call on friends with her mother.

As Emiline came across the grass toward her, Dorothy could tell it was going to be a special tea. Her mother was wearing the silk dress that her father had bought her in London. The navy silk dress looked and was expensive, and Mother had only worn it twice before, once to lunch at the Ritz with Aunt Edwina and once to accompany her father to an important business lunch. Dorothy began to feel a little nervous. Special teas meant that she had to be on her best behaviour. No talking unless you were spoken to first. No getting dirty—no putting your fingers in your mouth or up your nose—no licking your knife—no eating with your mouth open. She started to feel anxious. She was bound to do something wrong—she always did. I never meant to be naughty. Somehow what seemed completely acceptable to her seemed to be totally outrageous to the grown-ups. She always ended up embarrassing her mother and being told off and humiliated. As her mother neared her she felt panicky. It was hot, and she felt her face flush because of the heat.

Are you ready, darling? her mother’s voice shrilled. You haven’t got grass stains on your socks have you? Emiline’s green eyes flicked over Dorothy as if to make sure she was immaculate.

Dorothy shrank under her mother’s gaze, feeling intimidated. She looked up at her from under her fringe. Her gaze fixed on her mother, almost challenging her to find something wrong, although she prayed she wouldn’t. I know she’ll lock me in the attic again if she finds something wrong. It was a horrible place and so hot.

Hold your hands out. Are your nails clean? Her mother looked her over. Good! Come on then.

Suddenly Dorothy had had enough. She forgot about the consequences and before she could stop herself she snapped at her mother.

I’m not a doll!

Emiline’s eyes widened in shock. I beg your pardon, young lady?

I said I’m not a doll. Dorothy stared at her mother unblinking in babyish defiance, examining her mother’s face, watching her reaction.

How dare you speak to me like that? Emiline leaned forward and grasped Dorothy by the wrist. We’ll be late, hurry up, you insolent child.

Dorothy pulled her wrist free and looked at her mother without getting up. She sat staring at her, and slowly a half smile spread across her face, then she began to sneer. A gentle summer breeze blew the daisies in the grass and a butterfly settled on a nearby buddleia. Dorothy began to chuckle tauntingly, and the wet patch beneath her spread through her knickers to her dress as she peed.

Chapter Two

Emiline stood looking down at her daughter. What have you done? You naughty child, look at you. She was totally exasperated. Elspeth! Elspeth! Emiline’s shrill voice pierced the lazy summer afternoon as she called for the maid.

The Rutherford’s were a comfortably-off middle class family. They didn’t have many servants, but Emiline was adamant that she couldn’t manage without a house maid and a cook. Albert Rutherford, her husband, also paid for a gardener to come once a week from spring to autumn and once a month during the winter to see to their large garden. Emiline loved the wrought iron gazebo with a table and chairs under it where they had tea in the afternoon. It was where she loved to sit and read when Dorothy was having her nap.

Yes, Ma’am? Elspeth rushed from the house.

Take Dorothy into the house, she’s wet. Change her and then take her to the attic. She can stay there until I get back.

Elspeth bowed her head, Yes, Ma’am. She bent down to Dorothy, who was still sitting on the grass and took her hand. Come on, ducky, let’s get you dry.

* * * *

Dorothy stood gripping Elspeth’s hand tightly. Emiline turned and strode off without a backward glance. She watched her mother go through the side gate and out of the garden. Although she was upset because she had made her mother angry, she was more upset about being shut in the attic. She watched her mother disappear from sight while staring at the centre of her back. I hate you. She was mad at her for not understanding how she felt and madder still because she was going to be locked in the attic all afternoon.

Come on, then. Elspeth jerked her hand, jolting her away from her thoughts, and led her into the house.

Up in Dorothy’s room, Elspeth stripped her wet clothes off her and wrapped her in her dressing gown while she heated some water for a quick bath. Once Dorothy was clean and dressed in dry clothes, Elspeth took her hand and led her along the landing. She stopped outside a narrow door that wasn’t immediately noticeable unless you knew it was there—it was painted the same colour as the walls and was well camouflaged. She pulled a small key from her pocket and unlocked the door. It creaked open, revealing the wooden stairs that went up to the attic.

Go on up, then. I’ll wait until you’re in before I close the door.

Dorothy knew it would do no good to protest. She had tried everything, screaming, pleading, faking illness and even fainting. Elspeth was helpless to do anything but obey Emiline’s orders. Dorothy knew her mother had said she was firmly convinced that a strong hand with children was the best education you could give them—after all it had done her no harm. Albert Rutherford had said he was firmly convinced his daughter’s education was his wife’s business and kept well away from the subject most of the time.

Dorothy walked through the door taking fairy steps, procrastinating. The longer she took to get up to the attic, the longer Elspeth would have to wait at the bottom of the steps. If Elspeth closed the door before Dorothy reached the top, the staircase would be plunged into darkness and she wouldn’t be able to see to open the door at the top of the stairs. Dorothy could hear as Elspeth fidgeted from foot to foot down in the corridor. After what seemed like an eternity, Dorothy reached the top of the stairs and opened the door into the attic. She stood in the doorway looking round the dusty room, not wanting to go inside. A beam of sunlight lit up a streak of dust from the window to the doorway, particles of dust dancing in the light. Dorothy turned back to look at Elspeth, who was still standing down in the corridor.

In you go, then. Don’t get up to mischief or you’ll have to stay there even longer, Elspeth reminded her, then she closed the door to the staircase. Dorothy heard the key turn and Elspeth’s footsteps going away along the corridor and down the stairs back to the kitchen.

Dorothy was momentarily confused. She heard clanking outside her door and thought for a second that she was still in the attic.

Elspeth? Is that you? Can I come out now, is Mother back?

The door opened and Nurse Evans came in again.

Miss Rutherford, it’s lunch time. Do you want to eat in the dining room with the others?

The others, Dorothy spat, unimpressed. Why? For a nice little chat? They’re all mad, didn’t you know? I’ll eat in here on my own, it’ll be more fun.

As you wish.

Nurse Evans backed out of the room and came back five minutes later with a tray. She put it on the table near the window and set a place for Dorothy.

Mmm! It smells nice! Fish and chips today! Nurse smiled at her, but she refused to smile back.

Smells like a brothel, Dorothy snapped ungraciously. Don’t want the fish, just leave me the chips.

I wouldn’t know. Nurse Evans went red. , then. The things are on the sideboard," Emiline joined in.

Her father moved a chair round so that Young Albert could sit next to Dorothy.

If you’ve finished, go and wash your hands before we go into the garden, Emiline said.

Dorothy skipped out of the room, but she stopped in the doorway and held it open for a few seconds before going through and closing it behind her.

* * * *

Albert turned to his wife. What on earth was all that about?

I’m sure I don’t know. Emiline felt responsible.

When did all this start?

The first I heard of it was when Dorothy told us that it had been Young Albert who had used that foul language she copied yesterday. Then this morning Elspeth told me that Dorothy had asked who else lived in the house with us. Apparently she asked Elspeth if any other children lived here too.

Was there anybody with her in the attic yesterday?

No, of course not. She was being punished.

Why? What did she do?

Emiline was embarrassed. Well, er, she hesitated trying to find the right words so that she didn’t sound coarse. She wet herself on purpose to spite me. She stood bracing herself, expecting her husband to blame her.

Good God! This sounds more serious than I thought—then what she said yesterday in that obscene way was actually true. To be honest, I didn’t believe her. I thought she was just looking for a chance to use that horrible word. He sat down and looked deep in thought for a moment. Emiline watched him silently. The room was quiet, but she could feel the atmosphere, heavy and suffocating.

I’m sorry. I don’t know how it’s come to this. Emiline apologised. Dorothy’s education had been left up to her, and she felt somehow she had failed.

I don’t think that this is your fault at all, dear. I think Doctor Miles should see her. We can only pray that her behaviour is due to a rebellious little girl growing up. There’s always a remedy for that.

Emiline sighed, relieved. At least he doesn’t think it’s my fault. After all, I’ve done my best. She’s such a difficult child.

I shall call in on Doctor Miles myself this morning. Hopefully he can come over this afternoon, Albert said.

* * * *

Miss Rutherford! Miss Rutherford! Nurse Evans’ voice floated over to her, and reluctantly Dorothy brought her mind back to her hospital room and the present.

What is it now? Dorothy was quite fed up with all the interruptions. Her reminiscing was a way to survive the long boring hours she had to spend in this hateful prison, as she could forget where she was and be free. They can lock my body in here, but they’ll never have my mind and my thoughts.

The knowledge of that made her feel stronger, almost untouchable. They’ll never really be able to make me become a good girl. Good girls are boring and don’t have any fun.

We are going outside—it’s stopped raining, and it’s quite warm now, Nurse Evans said.

We? Does that mean you, or are you expecting me to come too? Dorothy saw no sense in beating about the bush, and she didn’t care if she came across as rude or not. She stared at Nurse Evans from over her glasses, her gaze boring holes into the nurse like lasers.

It means, Miss Rutherford, that we are all going, including you.

Including me, Dorothy repeated thoughtfully. She arched her eyebrows and gave the nurse what she knew was a rather unsettling wry smile.

Including you, Miss Rutherford! Now where is your coat and shawl?

My coat is in the wardrobe you keep locked, and my shawl is hanging up there, Dorothy replied accusingly. She couldn’t even get into her own wardrobe. What are they worried about? She pointed absent-mindedly to the shawl that was hanging over an antler. It was where she wanted to keep it. It reminded her of home and of the best times she’d spent with the May Moose and Young Albert.

The May Moose stared straight ahead unseeingly. Screwed to the wall slightly to one side of her bed, it was dusty and threadbare and it still had that unsettling air about it. She had grown used to it, but most of the hospital staff hated it. She kept her shawl hanging on it and her slippers below it.

Once she was dressed in her outdoor clothes, she lowered herself into a wheelchair and allowed herself to be pushed down the corridor, where she was left to wait while some of the other patients were wrapped up.

She was parked next to Mrs Baxter, who although a good bit younger than her, could walk, but refused to do so any further than to the dining room or the day room. Eileen Baxter was convinced that the SS were after her and it was too dangerous to leave the building alone or on her own two feet. The wheelchair was a kind of cover as far as she was concerned. If they were all in wheelchairs, the SS wouldn’t be able to work out which one was Eileen Baxter. Eileen kept looking up and down the corridor nervously.

Don’t worry, Eileen, there’s nobody here, Dorothy reassured her.

How do you know? You can’t tell ’em from normal people.

Well, look around you, there’s only you and me.

They could be hiding anywhere, they’re bloody well trained you know, Eileen hissed loudly at Dorothy, her eyes flicking left and right continuously.

I tell you there’s no one here, Dorothy snapped.

They’re waiting outside, I saw them from my window. They’re hiding behind the rose bushes out front. If they take us out there, I don’t know what will happen. She made her voice sound confidential, as if she was trying to do Eileen a favour by tipping her off.

The colour drained from Eileen’s face as she began to panic. "N-n-Nurse, Nurse, Nurse, Nurse, Nurse." She began to scream over and over until Nurse Evans and Nurse Greenwood rushed out of Mr Hunter’s room where they had been changing him.

Mrs Baxter, calm down! Calm down! Nurse Greenwood tried to take charge of the situation.

They’re here, they’re outside. I can’t go out. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I... Eileen screamed hysterically until Nurse Greenwood slapped her hard across the face, leaving red finger marks on her cheek. Eileen began to sob inconsolably as she was wheeled back to her room and sedated.

Nurse Evans looked at Dorothy accusingly, but Dorothy was quick to wipe the smirk from her face.

Chapter Three

Once the nurses came back from assisting Eileen, Dorothy was wheeled back to her room.

You’re all excited now, we won’t be taking anybody out this afternoon, Nurse Evans said in her normal matter-of-fact voice as she pushed Dorothy along the corridor toward her room.

As they approached Dorothy’s room, Dorothy sensed a change in Evans. She took