by Ayse Hafiza
“I don’t believe you are safe,” Sophie would say as she inevitably would start bawling then leave the room.
Frank could hear the little girl in her room alone, the same whispering that he heard before, and he hoped with all his might that it was only the ghost of Heaven with her, not that he had ever seen Heaven.
If Nevaeh had said yes let’s go, Frank would have left with them too. He would have left the mirror in the house and run away with them somewhere else, a new start. He felt the burden of having let Sophie down, she had always wanted somewhere safe for herself and the girls and this house hadn’t been that place.
With the passing of summer, sadness washed over the house, and a harsh winter set in. They never left the house, they burned wood logs, Nevaeh was always in her room whispering. Sophie had become withdrawn and Frank used all his time studying his book in his room.
The house was silent, and as Frank watched the first snow settle, he wished that he was sitting on a piece of cardboard on a London street, anonymous and invisible.
He felt the demonic specter of the maid stealing all their energy and happiness. He wondered if that was what had happened to the past residents of the house. He felt weak and slowly a darkness creep into his soul. Every day was a battle with himself, an effort to find sanctuary and relief, and for that to never come was tiring. He missed the laughter of the girls, he missed Heaven. He missed the hope that the children brought, and most of all he knew that somehow, somewhere they needed to get away.
Frank immersed himself in the magic of the book and at times he would enter the mirror to see if he could find the little girl. But she hadn’t been captured by the mirror, Heaven had been caught by the maid. He wanted to find her, see if there was a safe way for her to send a message, he was willing to try anything that would help raise Sophie’s spirits. But there was never any sign of the little girl on the other side. When he went into the mirror he tried his hardest to see if he could find her, but he never could. He harbored a secret hope that she was out of the grasp of the maid, that being innocent she had passed to another place, a better place.
Frank stood on his upper hallway inside the reflection of the mirror. While looking through the crowd for Heaven he spotted a face in the crowd, it was Jane. He almost forgot that she was the person he had come to find. Her brown hair glinted as if she was the only soul there. Frank ran downstairs into the sea of captured souls swaying in the garden. He ran as fast as his legs would take him, moving past them and among them he felt himself beginning to drown, the closer he felt he was to her, the further away she moved.
“Jane! Jane!” he screamed until the mirror spat him out on his bedroom floor. He would cry in pure frustration at times and at other times he would punch the mirror.
Nothing he tried to do would help him win. Jane never came to him and he was never able to get any closer to her, he would just catch glimpses now and again, and each time she would move away. It was starting to drive him crazy.
This was the start of his meltdown, he might have been Master or the Coven, and leader of the commune, but he was nothing but a frail man grasping at fading hopes and dreams.
12
The Gift
The snows began to melt, and small green stems of snowdrops pushed through the perfect white. Patches of green rebelled against the weather as the Isle of Eigg began to thaw. Frank was in a routine, he made himself breakfast and tea and then left the kitchen to head to his bedroom where he stayed, studied and practiced potions and magic all day. He came out only when he felt hungry.
Nevaeh had regressed to how she had lived in the commune, never speaking, never being heard, whereas Sophie and Roger were independently moving around. Sometimes Frank would hear a door open or a cough on the landing outside his room, but generally he heard nothing. Until there were three short, sharp raps to the door causing it to gently vibrate in its frame. Frank really couldn’t face seeing anyone. He was tired, the dark rings that rimmed his eyes were a testament to that and his bones were stiff from sitting in the same position on the soft bed for so long.
Again, came the three knocks, but this time they were followed by a hushed male voice, “Frank? You in there?”
Everyone knew he was in his room, it was the only place he had been for months. It was Roger. With a soft sigh and a quiet huff, Frank closed his book and covered it with his sheets. He pushed himself off the bed and shuffled to the door, his tired and stiff muscles aching with each step. Pulling the door open slowly, giving just an inch or two of a gap he caught sight of the other man.
“What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you for a minute,” said Roger.
Frank opened his door fully, the irritation on his face evident.
Once inside the room Roger looked around it, his eyes lingered on the mirror that sat on the wall. Frank’s eyes narrowed wondering if maybe Roger knew something. He took his hat off, and held the brim between his fingers, and hung his head. Frank knew from his body language this would not be a quick conversation.
“When was the last time you saw Sophie?” asked Roger.
“I don’t know. When I’m in the kitchen she isn’t,” said Frank not really sure whether he cared anymore.
“That’s what I thought,” he let out a deep sigh and moved further into the room. “You’d better take a seat.”
Panic flashed through his mind and at that moment Frank realized that he did care what happened to Sophie, he didn’t want her to be ill or withdrawn. He sat on the edge of his bed. He was beginning to get frustrated with Roger, he wanted him to hurry up and spit out all he had to say.
“So, I was in the kitchen and you know, her jumper snagged against one of the cupboard doors and I noticed that she had put on a lot of weight.”
Frank nodded, he wasn’t worried if she was enjoying being able to eat, for years in the commune they never had a decent or hot meal.
He nodded.
“A lot of weight.”
Frank nodded again. He couldn’t understand why her eating habits were any of his concern.
Roger was flustered and starting to redden at the cheeks.
“A lot of weight,” he said again, this time with a curved hand gesture at the stomach.
Frank looked at him repeating the gesture in his mind.
“Oh my God!” he said finally getting it.
“Do you know who the Dad is? Because if it’s Phil or Paul, I’m sure they would want to know,” said Roger.
Frank nodded his head, although he knew it wasn’t the younger men. He sat on his bed long after Roger left and looked at the wall of his room, what the hell had he been doing sitting in the airless room and staring into the magic mirror, he was about to become a father.
When he managed to catch her in the kitchen, he noticed her larger breasts, as well as the lower rounded stomach that she was trying very hard to hide. She tried to leave when he stepped in, and although he wanted to block her exit and force her to talk to him, he didn’t. He knew then he needed to find a way to reconnect with her. At night he heard her move around the house, and in the mornings, he heard her vomit into the bucket in her room. He was tuned into her movements, her sounds. It was the only thing that he noticed.
Frank started to make her cups of tea and look after her in any little way he could. The men moved around Sophie, they knew her secret, but no one said a word. The ice thawed between them, and when they were finally comfortable around each other she and Frank sat at the breakfast table alone, then she finally felt ready to speak.
“You want it, don’t you?” Sophie blurted out.
He realized that throughout her pregnancy that had been the first worry on her mind. Frank was overcome with emotion. He looked across the table at her.
“I’m sorry I never knew. . .but yes, of course I want it,” he nodded sincerely.
He could see the burden visibly lift off her shoulders and she sat up a little straighter, Frank reached for her hand and held it in his.
&nb
sp; Tears of relief sprung from the corners of her eyes. For the first time in his life he was about to become a dad. She was creating a life with him; no woman had ever done that before. As he touched her hand, he wrapped his fingers around hers and led her upstairs to his bedroom. On the bed he held her until she soaked his shirt with her tears, then he kissed them away. Then finally he made love to her. Frank hadn’t noticed a change in the reflection of the mirror when Sophie was in his room. Looking into his world as she watched from inside the mirror was the jealous face of Jane.
Sophie slept in her room with Nevaeh and Frank slept in his bedroom alone. He didn’t want to think about the mirror now, so from that moment, he used it as a jacket stand. Now that a new life was brewing in the house, the past held less appeal. He could feel the clutches of the mirror losing its grip on him, that was until Mrs. Boswell came to visit one day. He walked with her in the garden.
“How are you holding up Frank?”
“Fantastic, you know that Sophie is pregnant?”
“Aye, spring babies seem to be everywhere,” she said with a stern look. Frank glanced at her, he wanted the older woman to elaborate.
“Audrey is too, she’ll be due in a few months and I don’t know who the father is.”
Frank froze, he knew from the tingle running through his veins that it was the blood of the ancestors at work. He tried his best to act natural, although he was freaking out.
“We’re Wicca, so it’s part of our way, but it’d be nice to know who the father might be, I was wondering if you knew where those two young lads that were living here went.”
Frank shook his head.
“Never mind.”
“Besides I didn’t come here to speak to you about Audrey. What have you been up to?”
Frank raised his hands in the air surrendering himself. He would tell Mrs. Boswell anything she wanted to know, but he was confused because she just said she didn’t want to speak about Audrey.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked as he noted the puzzled look on her face.
“I can feel her,” said Mrs. Boswell.
“Can you be a bit more specific?” he asked.
“The Oban witch. She’s different, powerful. People are getting sick on the island and we’re a hardy bunch. She is sapping our life force, pushing us to the brink,” said Mrs. Boswell.
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Don’t you get it, you’re her adversary and it seems you’ve been distracted so she’s been getting even more powerful.”
“Well, what can I do?” he asked.
“You need to strike a bargain with her.”
“What does that mean?”
“Talk to the mirror, ask it what it wants in exchange for balance here on Eigg.”
“Can I do that, just talk to it? To her?”
“Laddie! What the hell have you been doing?” asked Mrs. Boswell aggressively.
“I’ve been going inside it.”
“Ohhhh? Inside it, how did you get inside?”
“It lets me inside.”
“I don’t think any other witch has been able to do that.”
Frank scratched his head, that was a revelation.
He walked Mrs. Boswell back to her house, then when they arrived at the door he asked to speak to Audrey.
She came downstairs with an unmistakable swell in her stomach.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested with a guilty look on her face.
They both walked quietly to the sands neither of them speaking. This Audrey was different, she didn’t want anything from him, not even to hold his hand.
“Thanks for not telling your mom it was me,” he confessed.
She nodded.
“You don’t need to worry Frank. You don’t need to have anything to do with junior,” she said reassuring him.
He wasn’t reassured, he would have loved to pick her up and kiss her, she was giving him a gift, but the only reason it didn’t feel like a gift was because he had another woman in the very same condition waiting for him back at home.
“I will support you any way I can.”
“You are the Master of the Coven, you are expected to have lots of babies, I don’t think you realize that I have a gift from you. Anything you ask of me I will give you,” she said staring deep into his eyes.
He wanted to move away from her, not comprehending the depth of her passion. He had never thought of Audrey as being a spiritual woman, more of an easy one, but now he realized just how involved she was with her faith and that she saw no distinction between spirituality and fertility. He wasn’t sure how involved he could be with her, especially when Sophie was roughly at the same stage of pregnancy.
She sighed softly before standing up and without another word she walked away, he watched her until she reached her house. He knew she was genuine with him about wanting nothing more, but at the same time Frank wanted to give her more, he wanted to put his hand on her tummy and tell her that he would love the bean inside. But she didn’t need that from him, she needed the island to be safe.
He didn’t want to make her any promises that he couldn’t keep so that night Frank set to work. He put candles out in his room and sprinkled water that he blessed onto the surface of the mirror, then he stood in front of it.
“Priestess of the Oban Coven,” he called into the mirror.
The face of Jane appeared in the reflection. Frank wanted to reach in and pull her out, but he knew it was a trick, one that was being used to manipulate and test his emotions. He fixed his face, making sure that he betrayed none of his thoughts.
“Master of the Hamilton Coven, you summoned,” came the whisper.
If nothing else, the witches of Scottish clans had great manners.
The face of Jane still looked back at him. He expected her to fade and for someone else, maybe the demonic maid, to face him.
Maybe this way he was at a disadvantage, the mirror knew his face, but he didn’t know what the Priestess of the Oban Coven looked like. He cleared his throat.
“My people tell me that you’re spreading illness.”
“My people tell me you have been trespassing into my mirror,” she countered.
He hadn’t expected such a fast response.
“You have a woman that belongs to me,” he replied.
“I have many people that were of importance to the Hamilton Clan leaders.”
“I am only concerned with Jane and the people of my island.”
“What do you offer in return for her?” asked the mirror.
“I offer a truce,” said Frank confidently.
“I will take a truce and your unborn child.”
Frank held his poker face, while he looked at her. What the hell was he meant to answer to that? The mirror wanted more than he was willing to give. His brain wasn’t engaged when he spoke next.
“Your terms are accepted.”
His voice said the words and his ears heard them, but in his brain, he couldn’t believe that he had struck that deal.
The image of Jane faded, and Frank padded around his bedroom blowing out the candles one by one.
He lay in bed and buried his face into the pillow, he didn’t want the mirror to see the tears that he shed or hear his silent screams at his stupidity. He should have run away, left and never looked back. Now he had made a promise that he knew he was never going to keep, he had just lied to the witch putting at risk his unborn baby, the anticipation of its arrival and the innocence it represented gave him joy. For Frank he needed to defeat her, he needed to win because the stakes were far higher than they had ever been.
He watched twilight come and go and when the first shaft of dawn hit the floor of his bedroom floorboards, after which he was finally able to sleep for a couple of hours.
13
Ending the Curse
In the morning Frank watched the rising sun as he lay in bed. He wondered what he had done, what promise had he made with the witch in the mirror? In the mor
ning he waited for news. Predictably Mrs. Boswell came to visit and together they walked in the garden.
“The Islanders are starting to feel better,” she reported with a measured tone. Mrs. Boswell was not foolish, she knew that Frank would have paid a high price for their health.
Frank smiled, but she knew it was a strained negotiation.
“What was the deal?”
“I don’t know that it was a deal at all. Mrs. Boswell if the Priestess of the Oban clan has the ability to affect the health of the Islanders then I think we need to accept that she is far superior in strength than us.”
He sat on a tree stump and let his shoulders sink. Mrs. Boswell sat on the other side and patted him on the back.
“Aye, she is strong.”
“Not just strong, she is far stronger than me. As a Master of the Coven, I don’t know that we can stand up to her, I don’t know how much we can negotiate. I think we are going to have to give her whatever she wants,” he said as he looked at his shoes.
“Frank we can’t just give up. Hold up a white flag, is that your plan?” she asked.
He could see her nostrils flare.
“We’ve been through centuries of persecution with that damned mirror, and now you just want to give it all up. Do you think that is what the ancestors wanted?”
“I don’t bloody well know what the ancestors wanted all I know is that she can impact the people of the island and what she demands in return is too high a price for any man to pay.”
Both sat together in silence with their shoulders slumped.
“Frank if you don’t know what the ancestors want then let’s ask.”
The older woman stood up and walked toward the fig tree, Frank slowly got up and followed. They held hands together as they rested their hands on the bark. The vision of the demonic maid swinging from a hangman’s noose, and behind her, the other woman in the pink satin dress unnerved him.
Frank turned his sight to the garden where fires burned children at stakes, again his nostrils filled with flames, he could feel their pain.