‘I hope there is another time,’ Kai says, smiling. ‘Don’t want you disappearing into nowhere after we leave Spain.’
Becky smiles back at him. ‘I might give you my email address.’
‘Might.’ He sighs. ‘Cruel, dangling a carrot like that.’
Becky finds herself smiling some more. It’s just an exchange of emails. And there’s nothing Kai has said that suggests he’s attracted to her. Maybe that’s what she likes so much, how friendly he is without trying to hit on her.
Hannah, Ed and Dean appear from the path then. Kai jumps up and gives them high fives. The rest of the evening descends into drunken fun, but Becky feels as though she’s watching from inside a bubble. She wraps her arms around herself, staring out at the setting sun and yearning for the warmth of her dogs by her feet.
After a while, she notices Berenice walk outside, picking up a flute and playing a sorrowful tune to the moon above.
So it was her who’d been playing that beautiful music earlier.
Becky goes out to her, watching her until she finishes playing. It makes her think of her mum, of those sad last moments in the cave with her, and her eyes fill with tears.
‘You play beautifully,’ she tells Berenice after.
‘Thank you.’
Becky leans against a small wall that’s been created from stones. ‘It’s lovely here,’ she says.
‘It is, isn’t it?’
They both survey the town for a few moments, silent as they take in the flickering lights against twilight skies, the glimpses of white caves below and the distant sound of flamenco music and cheering tourists.
‘Do you visit the gypsy caves much?’ Becky asks Berenice.
‘Sometimes. But I prefer it here.’ She turns to Becky, looking her in the eye. ‘Did you live with Idris and your mother?’
Becky shakes her head. ‘My mum and I had a … difficult relationship. She left when I was eight.’
Berenice is quiet for a few moments then she smiles sadly. ‘Yes, I left Carina’s father once.’
Becky looks at her in surprise.
‘It was when Carina was at university,’ she explains. ‘I left Mattia to come here. I’d spent so long being just a mother, I needed to get away. I have four children, you see, three of them are still in Italy. It is hard, often thankless work.’ She looks Becky in the eye. ‘Your mother may have felt the same.’
‘But she only had me.’
‘Still difficult. You’ll see when you have children.’ She looks back out over the city again. ‘It was good to be free, to live in a cave with another woman, something I’d never done before since I was with my mamma.’
‘Another woman?’
Berenice laughs. ‘Not what you think! Just a friend, a free spirit. Then my husband came to find me. I still remember him walking up there with his suitcase,’ she says, gesturing towards the winding path. ‘He said to me, “I know you still love me. So I’ve come to live with you.”’ She laughs a beautiful laugh. ‘I was happy to see him. It was a moment of madness for me. But it ended up being the best thing that ever happened to us.’
Becky imagines her dad doing the same. How different would her childhood have been?
‘Dean told me about your quest,’ Berenice says. ‘My friend was here when Idris was.’
Becky peers around her. ‘Is she still here?’
Berenice shakes her head. ‘She has gone back to France. Come, I want to show you something.’
She starts walking down the path and Becky follows her until they reach the charred cave she’d seen when she first arrived. They stop at the entrance.
‘My friend told me there was a fire here,’ Berenice explains. ‘It was where Idris stored his paints. See, he’d built a gate across it,’ she adds, gesturing towards nails drilled into the sides. ‘One night, my friend says they all woke to see flames in the sky. She found Idris here, crying as he looked into the cave, watching as all of his paints and brushes turned to ash. The next day, they all left. But not before he painted that over the charred walls.’
She points towards a large face, one side white, one side black. Next to the face is a solitary eye.
‘Mal de Ojo,’ Berenice says, pointing to the eye. ‘The evil eye. Julien often talks of someone Idris was running from. My friend tells me, when Idris left with his followers, the child with them was wearing an amulet bracelet with the same evil eye on it to ward off danger.’
‘That would have been my sister,’ Becky says. ‘Do you know where they went when they left?’
Berenice nods. ‘My friend told me one of the followers, Darja, would often talk of the Postojna caves in Slovenia where she grew up.’
Hadn’t Julien mentioned Slovenia?
‘The day of the fire,’ Berenice continues, ‘Idris declared that was where they would all go next. My friend decided to stay but the others went, including the child. If you are searching for your sister, then that might be where you need to go.’
Becky looks back at the evil eye, its whiteness stark against the blue. If Idris had given Solar a bracelet with it on, did he think she was in danger too?
There is only one way to find out. Becky has to go to Slovenia.
Chapter Sixteen
Selma
Kent, UK
30 July 1991
I stood outside my house, feeling sunburnt and windswept. It was like I’d been on a gap year, touring every corner of the earth. And yet I’d been gone just two days. In my bag, my notepad pulsed, all the pages filled to bursting after another day of writing. I couldn’t believe how prolific the cave had made me! But that wasn’t what was important that day. Becky was.
And so was Mike and what I was preparing to say to him.
I put the key in the lock and let myself in. The TV was on, familiar clattering sounds from the kitchen ringing out.
‘Hello?’ I called out.
‘Mummy!’ Becky ran down the hallway and bulldozed into my stomach as Mike looked on from the kitchen, brow knitted. ‘Mummy, mummy, mummy!’ Becky repeated.
‘Oh darling.’ A rush of emotions ran through me, right at the top of them guilt. When I wrote, hours turned into seconds so it had seemed as though I’d spent barely any time apart from Becky, but I could see as I looked down into her pretty little face it had felt much longer to her.
‘I missed you, Mummy,’ Becky said. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Just a little holiday,’ I said, stroking her blonde hair back from her face.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her dollhouse. ‘Play with me, Mummy, play with me! Daddy got me new bedroom furniture for it.’
‘Let me go chat to Daddy for a second.’
Becky’s face fell and, for a moment, I thought about just returning, going back to my normal life, just so I didn’t have to see her so disappointed. But then I remembered how happy I’d been the past two days. A happy mum means a happy child. It might take time, but eventually Becky would reap the rewards.
‘Can we talk?’ I asked Mike with a renewed determination.
He nodded, face expressionless, and I followed him to the kitchen.
He picked up a knife and started to angrily chop up a cucumber. ‘You look tanned.’
‘It’s been hot.’
‘I haven’t noticed, been too busy being a single dad.’
‘Oh Mike, it’s been two days.’
He stopped chopping and turned to look at me, blue eyes flashing with anger. ‘Two days when I didn’t have a clue if you’d be coming back or not! It’s your two weeks to look after Becky, for Christ’s sake. I had to book time off at the last minute, you know how my boss is about that kind of thing, especially with the way things are at work at the moment with all the threat of redundancies!’
I looked down at the floor, not sure what to say.
He took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I promised I wouldn’t do this.’ He walked towards me suddenly and took my hand in his. I could see the sense of panic on his face,
as if he knew what was about to happen. It made me feel even worse.
‘I’m pleased you’re back,’ he said. ‘You got it out of your system, didn’t you? Now we can get on with things. In fact, how about we get Greg and Julie to look after Becky tonight and go out, just the two of us?’
I shook my head, sadness filling me. ‘No, Mike.’
‘Fine. If you want to stay in, we can do that. I’ll cook us pasta.’
‘I mean, I’m not coming back.’
Mike stepped away from me, shocked. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
‘You said a hundred per cent or nothing. I can’t give this marriage a hundred per cent, I just can’t! I haven’t been able to for a while. Neither have you,’ I added gently.
He took deep shuddery breaths. ‘So you’re going back there?’
‘Yes.’
‘But I thought—’ He put his hands to his face then pulled them away again. ‘So this is it? You’re moving out?’
‘I think so.’
‘You think so? Make up your fucking mind, Selma!’ He paced up and down the kitchen. ‘Jesus, what have I done wrong? Is it the writing? I’ve been good to you, let you reduce your hours to write, taken Becky out on Sundays when your deadline approached. And all for a paltry few hundred pounds.’ He stopped pacing, looking me in the eye. ‘Or is it him, that man? Are you fucking him? Is that what I need to do to stop you from flinching whenever I touch you, dye my hair and grow it?’
I felt my cheeks burn with humiliation. ‘No, of course I’m not sleeping with him! Don’t be ridiculous. I just can’t live this life any more,’ I said, feeling strangely tranquil despite the momentous nature of the occasion.
‘You mean you can’t be a mum and a wife?’
‘How can you say that? I’ll never stop being a mum.’
Mike held my gaze then crossed his arms. ‘Life doesn’t work like this, Selma. Especially family life. You can’t just go live in a cave when it takes your fancy. What about work? Please tell me you’ll be going to work.’
I hadn’t really thought about that. ‘I suppose I’ll have to.’
‘She supposes she has to,’ Mike mimicked me with a bitter laugh. ‘Listen to yourself! We have a mortgage to pay. We’d all love to escape the rat race. And Jesus Christ, you’ve achieved that better than most, doing your little hobby two days a week. But oh no, that’s not enough for you. We’re not enough for you.’
Little hobby. He’d never understood, not like the others in the cave had.
Not like Idris did.
I thought of what Idris had said to me the evening before. You should take yourself more seriously. Have more confidence in your actions.
‘It’s clear whatever I say won’t make you understand,’ I said calmly. I took a deep breath. ‘The fact remains, our marriage is over.’
There, better said like that. Quick, painless, like pulling off a plaster. Why draw it out? I was being kind to Mike doing it this way. He might not see that now but, eventually, he’d be grateful.
Mike’s face flickered with pain.
‘This can’t come as too much of a surprise,’ I quickly said. ‘You must have been able to tell how much I’ve been struggling, Mike?’
‘Yes, and I told you to go to the bloody doctor to get some more anti-depressants but you never did, did you? I thought things had got better after the problems you had after having Becky. But it’s all just come back again.’
‘It’s not like that! Those were baby blues. I – it’s just writer’s block, it’s been getting me down.’
‘Maybe we’re making excuses when none are needed. Maybe it’s just the way you are, Selma.’ He paused, his gaze hardening. ‘Maybe you’re just like your mother.’
I looked at him in shock. He knew that was the worst possible thing to say to me.
‘I’m nothing like her,’ I hissed, trying to remain calm. I would not let him wind me up.
‘Really? Ignoring your child, leaving your husband. Selfish, cruel. Becky will probably end up bitter and messed up just like you because of her mother.’
‘How fucking dare you?’ I screamed.
Becky came running into the room. ‘Mummy? What’s wrong?’
‘I’m just telling your mum she’s selfish like your grandmother,’ Mike spat.
I took some deep breaths to calm myself. I was not like my mother and I was going to prove that by calming down.
‘Mummy?’ Becky said in a trembly voice.
I turned to her. ‘I’m fine, darling, I just stubbed my foot. Clumsy like your grandmother, that’s all Daddy meant. Let Daddy and me talk for a few moments then I’ll come play.’
Becky hesitated, looking between us both.
‘Go on,’ I gently urged her.
She frowned then walked out.
‘Nice lie,’ Mike said when she was gone. ‘But then you’ve always been good at that.’
‘I need to see Becky properly,’ I said, ignoring him. I hadn’t expected him to turn bitter like that. I just had to rise above it, put Becky first. ‘I’d like to take her to the cave. Just for a few days, make it like a little holiday for her. Isn’t that what the school holidays are for? Then we can figure out how we divide her time between us.’
‘No way,’ Mike said, shaking his head. ‘No way is she staying in that cave with those people.’
‘Those people? Mike, they’re good, decent people.’
He laughed. ‘You’ve clearly been brainwashed. They’re all nutters. You should hear what people are saying about them at work. And now they’ll all be talking about you too.’
I sighed. ‘That’s ridiculous, nobody’s making me do anything. This is all on me and you know it.’
We held each other’s gaze then he shook his head again. ‘Absolutely not. Becky is not sleeping in a cave.’
‘It’s safe, it’s warm, there’s food and another child for her to play with.’
‘I said no,’ he shouted.
Becky looked up from her dollhouse in the other room.
‘It’s okay, darling,’ I called out. ‘I’ll be out in a moment.’ I turned back to Mike, heart thumping. ‘You need to stop losing your temper in front of her.’
‘I’m not the only one.’
‘Okay, we both need to. Look,’ I said quietly, ‘she’s my daughter too. You have no right to keep her from me. We’ve got to put her first, Mike, not your hurt feelings.’
Mike took a deep breath then he closed his eyes. ‘Fine, just one day and not at that bloody cave. There are plenty of things you can do around here without taking her there.’
I thought about protesting again but realised there was no use. So I just nodded. How would Mike know if I took Becky to the cave anyway?
‘I want her back by six tonight,’ he said.
‘Eight,’ I replied. I’d love Becky to experience feasting at the cave. We’d even got a little bell to announce when dinner was ready.
‘No, absolutely not,’ Mike replied. ‘Six. You can put her to bed here then we can sit down and talk when she’s asleep.’
‘Talk?’
‘You can’t just walk out and not make arrangements, Selma. There’s bills to pay, schedules to discuss. Jesus,’ he said, pacing up and down as he slid his hand over his head. ‘I can’t believe it’s come to this.’
‘This is hard for me too, Mike.’
‘No, it’s not Selma. As long as you’re writing, you’ll be fine.’ Then he walked away.
Five minutes later, I was walking out of the house with Becky. I turned once to see Mike watching from the window, face drawn, and got a flashback to my own father, his face the same as he walked down the path with his suitcase when I was the same age as Becky.
I shook my head, making the memory disappear. I wasn’t like my mother, throwing her husband out in the night so a new man could move in a few weeks later, the first of many. This was different, so different.
I looked down at Becky. ‘We are going to have so much fun!’
It
wasn’t long before we approached the cave. Idris was by the sea, helping Donna’s son Tom fish in the shallow waters. He looked up when I was near, and I couldn’t help it, my tummy trembled. He strolled over, giving me a joyous look.
‘This must be Becky,’ he said, waving at her. She stared at him, her mouth open. She’d probably heard about the man with the long white hair at school. I felt a strange shimmer of pride. It felt like I was walking her into a fantasy book. ‘I’m showing Tom how to fish,’ Idris said, crouching down in front of Becky so he was at her level. ‘Will you join us with your mummy?’
Becky peered up at me with big eyes then nodded. ‘Okay.’
We walked towards Tom. The water was calm and the palest of blues, rippling beneath the relentless sun. I settled down on the sand and watched through squinting eyes as Idris showed Becky how to fish with a tiny red fishing net. Every now and again, Becky peered around at me, smiling. I felt the warmth of contentment. This was a good move. If only Mike could understand. Maybe if he came here, he could see it through my eyes. I looked towards the cave, watching people going about their usual business, ceramic plates being moulded, poetry being written, the tinkling of a new tune and the smell of a delicious new sauce being concocted by Donna. Despite how difficult it was to tell Mike the truth, mainly it felt wonderful to be so free.
I peered back at Becky who was yelping with joy as a fish flip-flopped around in her net. Now I just needed Becky to be here with me permanently, not just for a few hours.
‘Look, Mummy, I caught a big one!’ Becky said, looking at me proudly.
‘Clever girl!’ I exclaimed. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘Eat it for dinner?’ Becky said, shrugging.
I crawled towards Becky on the sand and grabbed her, euphoria filling me.
‘Then I’m going to have you for pudding.’ I pretended to gobble her up as Tom and Idris laughed, Becky giggling in delight. As we did that, the fish escaped, wiggling out into the ocean and swimming away.
Over the rest of the day, Becky played on the beach with Tom as I sat against my favoured rock, its warmth seeping into my back as I scribbled on my notepad. I’d never been able to write for more than five minutes with Becky around. It was as if my notepad was a magnet for Becky’s attention. But here, with the beach as her playground, a new friend to run riot with, Becky was content.
The Lost Sister Page 16