by Lu Hersey
“You’re not coming in with us?”
“No, I’m picking up an order of Peruvian shaman rattles from my supplier – I’ll come up and find you when I’ve got them.”
I reckon he’s probably just made that up as an excuse not to visit Mum with us, but I don’t mind. It’ll be nice to have Michelle along, and Dad would probably just get in the way.
Mum’s room smells a bit better. More like soap. Someone’s opened the window a little too, so there’s some air.
Mum just sits in her chair, staring straight ahead. She’s not showing any real improvement since I last saw her, but she does seem a bit calmer. Less fidgety somehow. Maybe it’s simply because Michelle is talking to her normally, as if there’s nothing wrong.
“I’m going to a party later,” says Michelle. “I’ve got a new dress. My mum made it for me because I wanted wings on it. Like fairy wings, you know?”
Mum doesn’t look at her but strokes the arm of her chair distractedly. It breaks my heart to see Mum completely ignoring us, but Michelle just keeps chatting.
“I wanted to put glitter on the wings, but my mum said it wouldn’t go in the wash, so she actually sewed sequins on instead.”
I think back to when I was little. Parties were so important. Mum was never much good at sewing, but Marlene, Levi’s mum, used to make dressing-up clothes for me sometimes. I remember Levi insisting she made him a lobster outfit once and I smile at the memory of him waving his pincers at everyone.
Michelle starts telling Mum about the present she’s bought for her friend. It’s a complicated new game and Michelle chatters away about how you play it. Mum just stares into the distance.
I glance at my photo on top of Mum’s cupboard. There’s a vase of flowers next to it. They’re lovely. I wonder where they came from? I feel bad that I didn’t think of bringing any. I open Mum’s cupboard while Michelle’s still talking to her.
“Just going to sort your laundry, Mum,” I say. She doesn’t look at me. The vase of flowers on her cupboard wobbles and I reach out to stop it spilling. There’s a beautiful heart-shaped stone next to the vase.
“Wow, look at this, Shell!”
I hold up the stone. It’s a glittery white rock of some kind.
“Oh, that’s beautiful!” says Michelle. “What a nice present.”
“Who gave you this, Mum?”
Mum doesn’t answer me of course.
I look at the flowers again. Someone else must have visited Mum. But who?
Dad doesn’t show up for ages, so in the end Michelle and I decide to go and wait for him outside. On the way out of the ward, I say hello to the male nurse. He’s the same one as last time.
“How’s your mum today?” he asks.
“Not much different. Nice flowers. Do you know who put them there?”
“Yes, it was the old lady earlier. She was in a hurry so I didn’t get a chance to ask her much. Said she was a relative. They really cheer the room up, don’t they?”
My head reels in shock. I can’t think what to say, and before I find my tongue, a patient starts shouting and screaming from a room down the corridor.
The nurse runs towards the sound.
Michelle and I get in the lift.
“Why didn’t you tell me your mum had relatives round here?” she asks.
“I didn’t know, Shell. Mum’s always been very secretive. She told Dad she hadn’t any family.”
“But you’re looking for your grandmother, so you think she was lying.”
I smile at her.
“You catch on fast, sister!”
“Wow. Wouldn’t it be amazing if it was your grandmother who left the flowers?”
“Nice idea – but I doubt it. Even if she’s alive, how would she know Mum was here?”
“I don’t know. But it might have been her! There were flowers in the graveyard too – the same kind. Maybe she left those as well?”
I stare at Michelle in astonishment. It’s the first time it’s occurred to me that it might not have been Mum who left the flowers in the graveyard. It was the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. Maybe it was my grandmother?
chapter 13
Michelle is all dressed up in her new pink party dress with sparkly wings. She looks angelic but she’s scowling at Dad.
“Do you have to come too?”
“Yes, I’m invited to stay along with the other parents. I’m looking forward to it. What’s the problem?”
Dad is wearing a well-worn Glastonbury T-shirt, which is far too short for him. When he raises his arms, it exposes his beer gut. It’s the pride of his vintage T-shirt collection, so I guess it’s his equivalent of Michelle’s pink party dress. He’s stuck some beads in his dreads too. No wonder Michelle doesn’t want him there.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay here, Danni? You can come with us if you want?”
He has to be joking.
“Nah, you’re all right, Dad. I’ll be fine.”
I wink at Michelle and she grins at me.
“Come on, Dad,” she says. “Put your coat on. We’d better get going.”
A few minutes later, I see Dad’s car driving past the shop. Michelle waves at me from the back seat as they go by and points at Dad’s hair, pulling a face. I have to laugh.
Dad’s left me a load of dreamcatchers to price while they’re out, so I sit on the floor next to the counter and gradually unpack the box. The feathers keep getting tangled and they’re really annoying to sort and price. I don’t care though. I’m in the shop with Elliot.
I can’t help watching him when he’s serving customers. He has this habit of pushing his hair back off his forehead, and the dark fringe constantly flops back again when he takes his hand away. His hands are beautiful. When he catches me watching him, I look away quickly and pretend I’m concentrating on untying some feathers.
A shadow crosses the window and I look up. There’s an old man outside the shop staring in. I smile in an effort to be friendly but he just glares at me.
Suddenly he does this really weird thing, flicking his hand in front of his face three times, kind of slowly and deliberately. He glares at me again, then spits on the pavement before he walks off. It’s horrible and quite disturbing. I glance at Elliot to see if he noticed, but he’s too busy hanging up the dreamcatchers. Maybe the man just had some kind of dementia, but I feel unsettled. It looked like it was personal.
I stand up to stretch my legs and try to shake off the feeling. I wander over to the window and spot the newspaper boy coming towards the shop. He smiles at me as he comes in, and leaves a paper folded on the counter. He winks at me on his way out again and I smile back, relieved not everyone’s unfriendly to me round here.
Elliot’s busy showing a customer some crystal skulls in a glass cabinet, so I sneak a quick look at the paper. It’s the Cornish Guardian. The word Porthenys instantly catches my eye on the front page. Porthenys is a small place. Even before I start reading, anxiety gnaws at my stomach. I pick it up and open it out.
TRAGEDY OF WOMAN AT PORTHENYS
Police have revealed the identity of the mystery woman found in Porthenys last week as Mrs Erin Lancaster.
It’s about Mum. I knew it. My heart twists.
…found unclothed, soaking wet and unconscious on the beach by a man out walking his dog.
Unclothed? I immediately think of the priest on the beach saying he covered her with his coat. Does unclothed mean naked? Mum would hate to be seen naked by someone like him, I’m sure of it. Thank goodness she was unconscious. But why the hell had she taken her clothes off? This time of year, it’s crazy to go swimming without a wetsuit.
Local people believe this sad event may possibly have been an attempted suicide.
What? Attempted suicide? No way. No bloody way! They’re wrong. They’re so totally wrong! Tears sting my eyes. I hardly notice the shop bell ringing as the customer leaves.
…Mrs Lancaster is the only daughter of tragic local fisherman Joseph Pengelly.
Mrs Lancaster was found on the anniversary of the sinking of her father’s fishing boat, the Eva Marie, twenty-two years ago. The boat went down just off the very same treacherous stretch of coastline.
The tears start spilling down my face. It can’t be true. Surely it isn’t true? Was she really trying to kill herself?
Elliot comes over to me quickly from behind the counter. He puts his arm round me.
“What’s up, Danni? Tell me what’s wrong.”
I can’t speak. I bury my face in his shirt and sob. I don’t care that I look awful when I’ve been crying. I don’t care about anything. I feel Elliot’s steady heartbeat through his shirt. He keeps holding me. Gradually I calm down. I breathe in the smell of fresh laundry and start to feel embarrassed. I hope I haven’t just messed up his clean shirt by blubbing onto it. I break away slowly, trying to hide my blotchy face as I wipe a sleeve across my eyes.
Elliot reaches over and gets me a tissue from a box under the counter. When I’ve blown my nose, I hand him the newspaper.
“Elliot, why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Tell you what?” He looks at the article and we don’t speak for a few minutes while he reads.
“I just can’t believe…” I pause while I try to think of a way of saying it without crying again. “That she was, you know, that unhappy, she’d try to…” My eyes fill up again.
Elliot doesn’t say anything. I can’t read his expression so I blink and look away. It must have been what everyone was thinking except me. How come I’m so stupid? I’m the one that was living with her, seeing her every day. Why didn’t I notice she was depressed?
I feel Elliot touch my arm, obviously trying to reach out to me again.
“It’s just what some people have been saying, Danni. You know, because of the date she was found and everything. But it doesn’t make it true.”
“I wish someone had mentioned it to me before now. I’m so angry with Dad for not warning me.” I can’t help the tears welling up again.
“Do you think he knew?” Elliot asks quietly. “I mean, you didn’t realize and you’re the one they spoke to at the hospital.”
“He must have done. And Dr Murphy. I hate them both.”
“That’s a bit harsh. It just says ‘local people’. Your dad and that doctor might not think anything of the kind. Newspapers always try to make things more sensational.”
I hope he’s right. I try to remember what they said in the hospital in case I missed something. The consultant did say Mum might need more radical treatment. Dr Murphy said it was a treatment for depression, but not to worry about it. I didn’t ask why they thought she was depressed. Now I want to know more.
“I’m going to phone the hospital.”
Elliot looks worried, but doesn’t try to stop me. I leave the tangle of dreamcatchers on the floor and run upstairs.
“Can I speak to Dr Murphy, please? It’s Danni Lancaster.”
“I’ll put you through.”
There’s silence for a moment and then a series of clicks.
“Hello, Dr Murphy speaking.”
“Dr Murphy, it’s Danni, Danni Lancaster – my mother is…”
“Oh yes, Danni – is there a problem?”
I’m faltering already. I was angry before, but now I don’t know where to begin.
“Um, have you seen the Cornish Guardian?”
“No, I don’t usually read the local paper. Why?”
“Mum’s on the front page. It says she was attempting suicide.”
My voice cracks on the last word and I almost start crying again.
There’s another moment of silence.
“So where did the reporter get that idea?” She sounds annoyed.
“The day they found her on the beach… It was the anniversary of the date my grandfather drowned.” As I’m telling her, I realize it sounds more and more likely that everyone must think the same thing. “And it was the same bit of coast where the boat went down.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that, Danni. I didn’t know. I suppose you can see why the newspaper has jumped to that conclusion. However, in my opinion, that’s not the case.”
I breathe a sigh of relief.
“So what do you think she was doing on that beach?”
“I’ve no idea, but from her symptoms I’d say she’s suffering from shock, not depression. Mr Albright’s diagnosis may be different however. I wonder, have you found out any more about her mother yet?”
“No, why?”
She doesn’t say anything for a minute.
“I think finding your grandmother could help. Call it a hunch.”
I get the strange feeling we’re talking in riddles. I’ve never liked puzzles. I like things clear.
“But you don’t think Mum was trying to kill herself?”
“I don’t believe she was, no. But I’m aware other people may consider it a possibility when they read the article. I’m sorry, I have to go now, Danni, but you can talk to me next time you visit the hospital.”
“Okay. Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
I put the phone down. I wish I could have asked her more questions, but I’m glad I called.
I start wondering about Dad instead. He must have heard people in the village talking, surely? But then Dad’s oblivious to most things. On reflection I think it’s likely he hasn’t a clue. In which case I’d better warn him about the newspaper as soon as he gets back.
I feel a lot better about things by the time I head back downstairs. Elliot untangles all the dreamcatchers ready for me to price. I find myself staring at his hands, amazed at how quickly he does it. I want to talk to him more, but unfortunately there’s a customer in the shop who doesn’t stop asking about crystals and takes all Elliot’s attention.
The rest of the afternoon goes quickly. We’re so busy, I don’t even get much time to think about the newspaper article again. Every so often I look over and Elliot catches my eye. It’s stupid, but I get butterflies every time he smiles at me.
When the last customer leaves the shop, Elliot shuts the door and turns the sign round to CLOSED. Dad and Michelle aren’t back yet.
“Do you need to wait for Dad so he can pay you?”
“No, it’s okay, I can call by tomorrow.”
I feel a pang of disappointment, but I can’t think of anything to say.
“I could kill for a can of Coke though. Do you want one? I’ll go up to the corner shop.”
“Oh, um, is that, er – do you mind? Yes, please.”
Now we’re finally alone, I can’t even speak properly. I wish I didn’t sound like such an idiot.
He just smiles.
“Back in a minute.”
When he’s gone, I wonder why I still haven’t told him I don’t really like Coke.
A few minutes later, Elliot reappears. He hands me a can, and we grab ourselves a couple of chairs from behind the counter. We sit down and drink in silence for a moment. I feel so awkward. I try and think of something to say. Elliot shifts on his seat.
“Would you…”
“Do you…”
We both start speaking at the same time and then laugh.
“After you,” I say.
“No, you first.”
We’re sitting so close that whatever I was going to ask him goes completely from my mind. He reaches out and moves a wisp of hair out of my eyes.
“I love your hair,” he says.
The air seems to crackle between us. I wonder if he feels it too. He moves closer and I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I close my eyes, a part of me secretly glad I reapplied my mascara after I stopped crying earlier. Then I sense him hesitate.
“Danni, I was going to tell you earlier…”
At that moment the shop door opens and the shop bell clamours. My eyes snap open and Elliot jumps up off his chair as Dad, Michelle and Jackson burst into the shop together.
“Oh great, glad I caught you,” says Dad.
I feel myself go red and take a swig of C
oke to hide my expression. I can still feel the spot where Elliot was breathing against my cheek.
Fortunately for me, Jackson is so excited he starts jumping up at everyone, and Dad tries frantically to stop him knocking anything over. Finally Jackson calms down and Dad turns to Elliot again.
“Elliot, I must pay you for today. Sorry we’re a bit late.”
“That’s fine, me and Danni have just have been chatting. The shop’s been really busy this afternoon.”
Dad looks pleased and he and Elliot start talking about the day’s takings. Dad spends a lot of time worrying about money.
“Come upstairs with me, Danni, you can share my party bag,” says Michelle.
I’m touched. Having Dad and Michelle around is beginning to make me feel like I’m part of a proper family. I guess I always have been, but I’ve never really felt it before. Up to now, it mostly seemed like there was only me and Mum.
I’m beginning to realize Mum must have preferred it that way.
chapter 14
There’s a door in front of me. Faded blue with peeling paint. The knocker is old and blackened, shaped like a dolphin. The door creaks open. In the darkness, someone is watching, waiting for me. I want to know who it is, but I’m afraid. The door opens enough to step into the dark and unknown. I try to force myself through. The fear is too great. My heart starts beating faster. I have to wake up.
The bed is damp and my hands feel prickly. I want to switch the light on to look at them, but it’s not even dawn yet and I don’t want to disturb Michelle, fast asleep in the twin bed next to mine. I know the water has been coming through my hands again. Where does it all come from? There’s no way it’s just sweat. I’m sure it’s not normal.
Panicking makes my heart race, and I’m even more awake. I would go to the front room, but Levi arrived yesterday so he’s in there. He’ll be really grumpy if I wake him up too early, especially since it’s Saturday and he’s been looking after Cheryl and Syrus all week. Instead I lie on my back and stare at the pattern the street light makes on the pink, fairy-covered ceiling. Eventually I close my eyes.
I’m underwater. Diving in the deep green light. I can swim so fast, it’s exhilarating. I belong here.