It was Florence who broke the silence.

“I was sorry to hear about your daughter.”

Verna looked in Flo’s direction but her eyes were distant. A moment passed and Flo wondered if Verna had actually heard her. Then Verna shifted and staring at the tankard in her hand said, “The doctors are hopeful.“

Raising the tankard she drained what remained, then said, “Which is more than I can say for the courts.”

“Oh Verna, that must have been so hard,” said Ginger.

Verna shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. A movement so slight it might have gone unnoticed except that eveyone in the circle was focused on her every move.

“You know what she said the time before?”

Verna looked from one concerned face to another.

“She made excuses for him. I told her to leave but she refused and now this.” Another pause. “He’ll get away with it. They always do.”

No one spoke. What could they say? What happened to Verna’s daughter was nothing new. Everyone of them had experienced such violence themselves or knew someone who had.

“Perhaps we should call it a night,” said Margret. “Florence can save her story for next time. You don’t mind do you Flo?”

“Of course not,” replied Florence but as she stood, Verna grabbed her arm and said, “Absolutely not. Remember our vow. We will not be silenced.”

Flo sat back down.

“We will not be silenced,” she whispered and the others repeated the same.

Verna sighed, the hint of a smile played on her lips as her eyes closed. Then her head dropped and the tankard slipped from her hand. It clanked and rolled across the slate floor, resting as it hit Flo’s foot. There was a general looking around as each woman sought to judge for herself if they should stay or go.

“Should we take her home?” asked Ginger.

“Let her sleep it off in the chair,” said Flo.

“In that case,” said Beatrice, “why not tell your tale.”

“Perhaps now is not the time.”

“You heard Verna,” said Margret. “We should not be silenced, not by the world or those who would rule and certainly not by us.”

The others nodded their agreement. So as the knitting needles resumed their clicking and with the first light creeping in, Florence settled back in her chair, saying, “My tale is a short one and like Verna’s all too common. It’s the story of a missing girl. The sort you never hear about because she wasn’t a princess. She wasn’t the brightest and fairest in the land. She wasn’t pretty or popular and she didn’t have suitors vying for her hand. She wasn’t one of those girls you could say had a bright future because girls like her didn’t have bright futures. She was likely to wind up like her mother and her mother’s mother before her, poor, pregnant and likely unwed. She was one of those girls who were so indistinguishable from each other that they became invisible which is why no one notices when they go missing. And if they were reported missing, they weren’t listed as missing. They were listed as runaways because it was common knowledge that girls like that ran from abuse, or poverty. Or they ran away with boys who pimped them in the back streets of town. They were sold, traded, discarded. There were so many ways for a girl like that to disappear. For girls like that were of no consequence. That’s what everyone thought when she went missing so it was not surprising that the authorities were slow to act. What was surprising was that the Coroner held an inquisition which is the only reason her story has been recorded.

The proceedings started with the mother’s testimony. She said that the day the girl went missing was a normal day, a bit foggy in the morning but by noon the skies had cleared and the afternoon while brisk was sunny. It was because of this coolness that the mother told her daughter to take her cloak. The Coroner asked the mother to describe the cloak.

“It’s the red cloak commonly worn by schoolgirls, your honour. It has a hood and for some reason is called a riding cloak but only rich girls have horses.”

The Coroner asked the mother to tell him about that morning.

The mother explained that there was to be a fete at school so she’d baked biscuits for the girl to share with the other students. And, as there were extras, gave the girl a basket of them to drop off at her grandmother’s on the way.

Later, the investigators would state that it was the unusual circumstances; the biscuits, the school fete, the drop-off at granny’s that delayed their search. It certainly wasn’t because the girl was ordinary. They had followed standard procedures. Nothing more. Nothing less. This was obvious in the Sargeants testimony.

Transcript of the Coroners Hearing dated Once Upon A Time

Coroner: Why did it take so long to begin the search?

Sargeant: Your honour, the mother reported the girl missing on a Friday afternoon. She was hysterical as people like her can get.

Coroner: People like her?

Sargeant: Single mothers, living on the fringes. There’s always dramas in that area but most of them get sorted without police intervention.

Coroner: Continue.

Sargeant: At the time, the mother stated that the girl hadn’t returned home at the normal time. We asked the usual questions. How old was the girl? Had the mother checked with the girl’s friends? Was the girl unhappy?

Coroner: And what did she tell you?

Sargeant: As I said, your honour, she was quite hysterical so it was difficult to get the story straight.

(Sargeant checks his notebook)

I calmed the woman down. Offered her a cup of tea. She declined. She told me the girl was fourteen. I suggested that girls of that age were unpredictable, rebellious even. The woman replied that her daughter was a good girl that she always came straight home after school. I asked the mother if she worked and she said yes. She did laundry. I asked the mother if her work meant that she wasn’t always home when the girl returned from school. This angered the mother and again I had to calm her down. I said that if she wasn’t home every day, how did she know that the girl always came straight home. I pointed out that girls that age often lost track of time. They got distracted picking flowers or talking to their girlfriends. The mother said she’d already checked with all the girl’s friends and they hadn’t seen her all day.

Coroner: So is this when you learned that she hadn’t shown up for school.

Sargeant: No your honour. That was not apparent from what the woman said. She never said that the girl didn’t show up at school, she only said the girl’s friends hadn’t seen her that day. How was I to know that that meant the girl never showed up for school.

Coroner: I understand. Please continue.

Sargeant: I suggested to the mother that perhaps the girl had friends the mother didn’t know about. Friends of the opposite sex. The mother said that she and the girl were close but I took that with a grain of salt.

Coroner: And why was that Sargeant?

Sargeant: We’ve all been there your honour. At the risk of being indiscrete, I had experiences I never told my parents about.

Coroner: Alright Sargeant. Moving on.

Sargeant: At this point, we had another call, some business about a cat and a fiddle disturbing the peace so I told the mother that she should go home and wait. The girl would no doubt show up in due course.

Coroner: No mention of the basket of cookies or the trip to granny’s?

Sargeant: Not at that time your honour.

Mother: I tried to tell him. He wouldn’t listen. Kept cutting me off.

Gavel knocking

Coroner: Silence in the courtroom. Madam, You’ll get your turn. Now Sargeant what happened next.

Sargeant: Well, we retrieved the fiddle.

Laughter

Coroner: Silence! Sargeant, I was referring to the girl.

Sargeant: Oh, that. Well, the mother came back the next day and said she’d gone to granny’s house to look for the girl but that the old woman’s house was empty.

Coroner: So is this the first you knew of the girl visiting grandmother’s house to deliver biscuits?

Sargeant: It wasn’t clear at this moment, no your honour. The mother only said that she’d gone to the grandmother’s house to see if the girl was there. She didn’t say that the girl was going there on her way to school and there was no mention of biscuits.

Coroner: And you never thought to ask?

Sargeant: We were still assuming the girl had run off, your honour, and that she’d turn up eventually.

Coroner: So at this point there was no suspicion of foul play?

Sargeant: Not at that time, your honour. The mother only said that she went to the old lady’s house and found it empty.

Coroner: And you didn’t find that strange?

Sargeant: I asked if the old lady might have gone for a walk and the mother said that the old woman wasn’t well enough to go on a walk. That’s when I asked if the girl might have stopped by her grandmother’s and the mother said, of course. That’s why she went there in the first place.

Coroner: So at this point did you visit the grandmother’s house?

Sargeant: Not right away. You see it occurred to me that the girl had likely gone to the grandmother’s house and finding the woman ill had taken her to hospital.

Coroner: So did you check the hospitals?

Sargeant: Not at that time, your honour. You see, we had a more pressing matter. A farmer reported his prized cow was missing, possibly stolen. I suggested the mother go to the hospitals and make her own enquiries while we went in search of the missing cow.

Coroner: Then what happened?

Sargeant: Well, we found that the cow had jumped over the moon which explained how she wound up in the neighbouring farmer’s field.

Mother: I told him the house was ransacked.

Gavel banging.

Coroner: One more outburst like that Madam and I’ll have you removed. Now, Sargeant, can you stick to the case at hand.

Sargeant: Apologies, your honour but you see it proves my case. Girls, especially teenaged ones that go missing aren’t so different from cows. They usually turn up in someone else’s field. They come home eventually and we had no reason to believe there was any misadventure.

Coroner: So is it common to not attend to missing person reports for two days?

Sargeant: Not quite. If we suspect foul play we begin immediately but in the case of teenagers like the girl in question, we take a more cautious approach.

Mother: She was a child. A vulnerable child and you did nothing.

Coroner: I have repeatedly warned you Madam. Bailiff, remove the woman.

The woman was removed.

Coroner: So at what point did you begin your investigation?

Sargeant: On the Monday, your honour.

Coroner: Let me get this straight. The girl went missing on the Friday but you didn’t get involved until the Monday?

Sargeant: Well, you see, your honour, the mother came back on the Sunday and said she’d checked the hospitals and even contacted the girl’s father. I asked why she hadn’t contacted him earlier and she said that they weren’t on the best of terms. That she had a restraining order out on him. Now, that changed things a bit. It was starting to look like a domestic case so I contacted the local social worker and asked him to check on the father as we had real police work to attend. A silver spoon had gone missing so I told the woman to go home and wait for us to get back in touch.

Coroner: And how did that turn out?

Sargeant: Open and shut case. It turns out the dish ran away wirh the spoon. We apprehended both and—

Coroner: The girl, Sargeant. Had the father seen the girl?

Sargeant: Sorry. I mean, no your honour. The social worker said that the father hadn’t seen the girl. Turns out, the girl and her father were estranged because she didn’t like her step-mother.

Coroner: So now it’s Monday morning. Is that when you attended the grandmother’s residence?

Sargeant: Not first thing your honour. There was a sighting of a wolf near the school yard so we went there first. Turns out the boy who spotted the wolf was playing tricks. Anyway, while we were there we interviewed the teacher and learned thar the girl hadn’t shown up for school on the Friday.

Coroner: And was it common for the girl to skip school?

Sargeant: According the the school teacher, the girl had missed some days, saying that she had to look after her granny.

Coroner: And so you were still labouring under the assumption that the girl was alive and well.

Sargeant: That’s correct your honour. Before we assembled a search party and put up notices we decided to interview the grandmother.

Coroner: Which I presume you did on the Monday.

Sargeant: We were going to your honour but we had a report of two children who claimed they were incarcerated by an evil witch. We had to organise for them to be returned to their father so it wasn’t until Tuesday that we went to the grandmother’s house.

Coroner: And what did you discover?

Sargeant: The first thing we noticed was that the place was a mess. The bed was unmade, furniture was toppled, and there were cookie crumbs everywhere.

Coroner: At this point did you suspect foul play?

Sargeant: Not at this point, your honour. You know how it is with old people. They get slack when it comes to keeping things tidy. But what did catch our attention was the basket. It was green and yellow. Quite similar to one that had been lost by a lovely young lady in the village. She said she dropped it on her way to market so we decided to check with her to see if she recognised it.

Coroner: Didn’t it occur to you that the basket was the one the missing girl was carrying when she left home.

Sargeant: It was such a fine basket your honour that we thought it was too good for the girl in question. Unless of course she’d found it. That’s why we took the basket in question to the lady who’d lost hers. She said that no, it wasn’t hers but did offer us a cup of tea. They’re a fine upstanding family so we could hardly refuse.

Coroner: But having ascertained that the basket didn’t belong to this fine upstanding lady, I presume you went to the missing girl’s house.

Sargeant: It was quite late at this point your honour but we did go first thing the next morning.

Coroner: And did the mother recognise the basket?

Sargeant: She did your honour.

Coroner: And at this point, did you organise a search party?

Sargeant: Well, we were discussing doing just that when a woodsman arrived. He said he’d discovered a wolf’s den that contained some bones. We had him take us to the spot. There was no wolf but as he said, there were bones and – other items.

Coroner: Can you describe these – other items.

Sargeant: We found a bloody nightie and a piece of red cloth.

Coroner: And on seeing these items what did you do?

Sargeant: We asked the mother to identify them and she recognised the nightie as belonging to her mother.

Coroner: And the piece of cloth.

Sargeant: She also recognised it as belonging to her daughter’s cloak.

Coroner: And what of the wolf? Was the animal found?

Sargeant: Yes, your honour. We had a report of another missing child. It was the boy from the school who was known for playing pranks. If I told you his name I’m sure you’d recognise it because his family has a large sheep farm outside town. That’s why, despite his pranks, we immediately sent out a search party and cornered the wolf.

Coroner: In the same den?

Sargeant: No, it was on the other side of the wood but we believe it was the same wolf. It has been destroyed, your honour.

Coroner: Well, I think that we have enough evidence to conclude that the girl and her grandmother were killed by the wolf and that the wolf has been despatched. Based on your testimony, I think we can close this case. You may step down Sargeant.

Not long after the Coroner’s findings, the mother disappeared. No one noticed because they were busy mourning the loss of the boy swho everyone said had a bright future and would be greatly missed. The whole case of the missing girl and her grandmother might have been forgotten if another girl hadn’t disappeared walking through those same woods. This time it was a lovely girl from a solid family and this time the police began their search immediately. They found the girl alive. She’d been abducted by the woodsman and hidden in his hut deep in the woods. When they searched his house they found a red riding hood. The kind school girls wore but of course by then everyone had forgotten the girl and so the story remained that she and her grandmother were eaten by a wolf.

Flo said that was the end of her story and the others stretched and yawned. It had been a long night and the fire had gone out. Not that it mattered. The sun was already starting to warm the room.

“Just as well Verna slept through that,” said Margret placing her knitting in her bag. “Perhaps next time we should pick a lighter subject.”

“Well, as this month’s host, it’s up to Flo to name the topic,” said Beatrice.

“Oh, Flo do pick something a little lighter than fairy tales. They’re too dark,” said Ginger.

“Something where women show their inner strength,” added Beatrice.

“Yes, something that shows how women succeed.”

“Even when the odds are against them.”

“I’lll let you know in the next few days,” said Flo. “But for now would anyone like a cup of tea?”

“Sorry, customer’s coming early today.”

“And I have to check on Henrietta. Her twins are due.”

“Seems, I’m the only one that has the morning off,” said Margret. “Shall I take Verna home?”

Flo shook her head. “Let her sleep, In the end it’s the only medicine that heals the soul.”

“That and time,” said Beatrice.

“Healing is a gift from the gods.”

The women, poised to leave stopped and turned. Verna, still slumped in her chair, was awake.

“Did you know that at one time, the word girl referred to an adolescent of either sex.” Verna stood up and stretched. “Isn’t it interesting that to call a grown male a boy is demeaning but to refer to a female, even ones as old as us, as girls is perfectly acceptable.”

“They’re more likely to refer to us as crones but I think even that term has become derogatory,” said Beatrice.

“So what would you have us called?” asked Margret.

“Goddesses,” replied Ginger.

“Why Ginger,” said Flo. “I believe you have come up with the theme for our next get together.”

“What derogatory names for women?”

“No. Goddesses.”