BRAMBLY HEDGE

 

‘He placed the forefinger of his left hand under the ‘fly,’ and with the same finger of his right hand, he gave her a squeeze on the back of the chest.’* He peered through cracked spectacles at her beauty- the fine features of the ‘White Admirable’, (Limenitis Camilla) kaleidoscoped through shards of light. The species is sometimes called, ‘The Glider’ for the effortless way she moves in lightly shaded woodland.

        He’d been chasing her for some time, studying her from different angles. She was quite unaware of this of course, although they’d been a moment in late May when she almost caught a glimpse of him. The Bramble was blossoming, a wedding dress of cream and pink.  From the darker side of the hedge he admired her secretly, her whole body focused on the sensuous task of imbibing nectar. He’d had that funny feeling in his groin that reminded him of a childhood memory. Whilst out looking for butterflies in the woods, he’d come upon a couple embracing passionately. He’d hidden behind the Bramble hedge to watch; the man’s bottom, coal-grubby cupped in tight trousers; the women’s breasts tumbling out of her dress, like new-born Labradors.

    He turned her over on the bench, took the pin, one he’d made especially for the purpose in his lab, and ran it in one smooth incision from her neck, through her body.  Her chest parted, exposing a heart still beating and lungs pulsating. His breath grew shallower. He plunged his right hand inside her and pulled out her organs, slopping them into a kidney dish. Then he took a needle and threaded it with fishing line, and meticulously sewed her up, as if he was embroidering a cushion cover. He took out a luggage label, wrote down her name ‘Camilla,’ and tied it loosely round her ankle, placing her in a glass cabinet, next to the rest of his collection.

 

Janet Daniel

*Quotation from Wilkes, The Admirable Butterfly, 1742.