by Lu Hersey
When we get inside, the minister, Mrs Goodwin, comes over. “Can you help me with the table tennis tables, Elliot?”
I offer to give them both a hand. Mrs Goodwin looks at me.
“Hello, Danni. I’m glad you’ve come back again. Thought Elliot might have put you off telling you about our gruesome history.”
“What gruesome history?”
She laughs. “Ah. That explains why you’re here – he didn’t tell you. Well it’s nice to see you again anyway.”
As soon as I get a chance, I ask Elliot.
“What did she mean?”
“Who?”
“Mrs Goodwin. The history.”
“Oh that. I meant to tell you after the club last week but then everything went haywire when the police found your mum.”
“So tell me now, I’m curious.”
Elliot looks so serious, I almost wish I hadn’t asked.
“It all happened a long time ago, okay, Danni? But it affected everyone here and local people still won’t talk about it much, especially the older ones.”
“So tell me. I really want to know.” I smile, but Elliot doesn’t smile back. He hesitates a moment as if he’s weighing up whether or not to go on, then takes a swig of Coke before he starts talking.
“The minister back then was a man called Crawford. Cyril Crawford. He was mad.”
“Mad in what way?” I probably sound a bit defensive. People might describe Mum like that right now.
“As in crazy. But powerful. He became a sort of cult leader. And he killed a child.”
The room temperature drops. I feel the chill in my bones.
“Cult leader?”
“Sort of.”
“How did he kill the child?”
“Exorcism.”
“That’s not funny, Elliot.”
“No, really, it’s true. Ask Mrs Goodwin. She probably knows more than me.”
“Ask Mrs Goodwin what?” The minister comes over with a large bag of crisps in one hand.
“About Crawford.”
“Oh him.” Her eyes shift to the Latin Bible text on the wall. It still hasn’t been painted over. “It all happened before your time, back when I was a girl. I remember everyone talking about it. It was in the headlines for weeks.”
“But he actually killed someone?”
“Yes. A young boy. Dreadful business.”
“Why did he do it?”
“Crawford was obsessed with ridding the village of evil – evil as he saw it anyway. Apparently he believed the boy was possessed. He and his followers, the so-called Chosen, decided to exorcise the boy and took it much too far. Please don’t think that kind of behaviour is condoned by our church. It definitely isn’t.”
I shiver as Mrs Goodwin wanders off to put out the evening drinks and snacks on a side table.
“Are you okay, Danni? You look upset.” Elliot puts his arm round me. It’s amazing having him so close and I want to be able to enjoy being with him. But I can’t stop thinking about the boy.
“How did Crawford kill him?”
“I’m not sure, but I heard he shook him too hard.”
I try to picture the scene. “How old was the boy?”
“Eight. Does it matter? It was a terrible thing to do, however old he was.”
“He was only eight? That’s how old Michelle is!”
“Like Mrs Goodwin said, it was a long time ago, Danni. And Crawford went to jail for manslaughter.”
“I should hope so.”
“Try and let it go. I told you, people round here are still sensitive about it and it’s too late to change anything. Come on, let’s get some food.”
I follow Elliot over to the snack table. I try to think about something other than the tragedy, but I can’t. Why would anyone shake a young boy to death? I know Elliot doesn’t want to talk about it, but I have to find out more.
“What had the boy done?”
“Nothing. I told you, the man was mad.”
“So why did Crawford think he was possessed?”
“Oh that. Ancrows had a reputation back then.” Elliot looks uncomfortable. I don’t really understand why.
“What sort of reputation?”
“Witchcraft, that kind of thing. Crawford was determined to stamp it out.”
“Witchcraft? That’s stupid! No one’s been killed for being a witch for hundreds of years, have they? Anyway, the boy was only eight!”
“Yes, I know. And his family were just wind sellers too. Totally harmless.” He bites his lip as though he thinks he’s said too much.
“Wind sellers? What are wind sellers?”
“They used to sell weather charms to fishermen. It’s a gift that runs in families. Supposedly.”
“You mean like the dreamcatchers Dad sells in the shop?”
“Probably about as much use, yes.” Elliot smiles. “But not so tangly and easier to put in your pocket.”
The word pocket triggers something in my memory. Suddenly I think of the homeless man, Robert, in the graveyard.
“Elliot, what do weather charms look like exactly?”
“Not sure. I heard they were just bits of knotted rope or sailcloth.”
I don’t say anything. But I know exactly what a weather charm looks like. I’ve got one in my coat pocket. No wonder Robert was cautious when he gave it to me. A boy in the village was killed for making things like that.
“Penny for them.” Elliot is watching me.
“Eh?”
“Penny for your thoughts. That’s what my mother used to say when she was alive.”
For a moment I can’t think of anything to say. I’ve been so wrapped up in my own worries that I’d almost forgotten he told me his mother was dead.
“You must really miss her.”
He says nothing and just stares at the floor for a while. I want to hug him to make the pain go away. Instead I reach out and squeeze his arm gently.
“What happened – or is it too difficult to talk about?”
“Accident.”
“That’s awful. How old were you?”
“It was two years ago.”
Elliot looks at me. He’s fighting back tears. I’m overwhelmed with sadness too.
“We make a right pair, don’t we?” he says softly. “Let’s go outside a minute.”
Out in front of the chapel, I link my arm through Elliot’s.
“I thought things were difficult for me with Mum being in hospital at the moment. But I guess I’m really lucky she’s alive.”
“Even better, you don’t have to put up with someone like Aunty Bea all the time.” Elliot manages a faint smile as he mentions his aunt.
“Is she your mum’s sister?” I shiver involuntarily at the thought of his Aunty Bea.
“Yes. But just because they were family doesn’t mean they had anything in common. They hardly spoke when Mum was alive. Mum couldn’t stand her either.”
“I’m not surprised!” I say it without thinking. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No, don’t worry. You’re right. She’s a nightmare.” He brushes my cheek with his fingers and looks deep into my eyes. “Still, good things come out of bad situations sometimes.”
He rests his hands on my shoulders and we’re so close I can feel his breath on my face. He looks into my eyes.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before,” he says quietly.
“Neither have I. Um, I mean, met anyone like you before.” My heart’s fluttering so much I’m finding it hard to string a sentence together, but somehow it doesn’t seem to matter.
He traces a line across my bottom lip with his thumb, and I hardly dare to breathe.
He pulls me gently closer, then looks at me questioningly to check I’m okay with that. I smile. I forget about everything else going on in my life as he kisses me, softly, gently. It feels amazing.
I start to kiss him back, unthinking of the cold or where we’re standing right in front of the chapel, or anything else at
all.
A loud rattling signals someone trying to open the heavy chapel door. We pull apart slightly, but Elliot grabs hold of my hand. He obviously doesn’t care if other people see we’re together. I feel like I’m glowing, despite being out here in the cold and dark.
Levi sticks his head round the door, light from the chapel flooding out behind him.
“What are you two doing? I need someone to slaughter at table tennis. Danni? It’s your lucky day!”
chapter 16
Levi has to get back to Graymouth. It’s Sunday lunchtime and term starts again tomorrow. After we’ve waved him off at the station, Dad gives me a serious look.
“Danni, we have to talk about you going back to school. It’s important you keep up with everything.”
I hadn’t given school much thought until now. I wonder what he wants me to do about it.
“Do you think I should stay at Mum’s or something?” I ask.
“Not on your own!”
I pull a face. He’s right. I don’t want to stay there by myself. “I guess it’s too far for you to drive me there every morning?”
Dad looks worried. “I could manage it once or twice a week, but not every day.”
“If Mum gets better, it won’t be a problem.”
Dad sighs. “Danni, you may have to face up to the fact that it could take a long time. You might be better transferring to a school over here for a while.”
I’m getting close to tears.
“Pity Levi’s place is so small. Otherwise I could stay with him.” My bottom lip starts wobbling. I bite it quickly, but Dad notices anyway and gives me a hug. I know he means well, but the stupid beads in his dreads slap against my face and a faint smell of burned sage wafts up my nose.
He sighs. “I’ll tell you what, love. We’ll go over to the school tomorrow and pick up some schoolwork for you. I’ll talk to the head to see if you can spend the rest of the week here. In the circumstances, I’m sure they can make allowances.”
I wonder briefly what the headmaster will make of Dad. But it seems like the best solution for now, and if we’re going into Graymouth, I’ll get the chance to pick up some more of my things from home. When I left, I didn’t think I’d be staying at Dad’s for so long.
There’s also the diary page I found in Mum’s drawer. Since I read it, I’ve been dying to search through her stuff to see if the rest of the diary’s there somewhere. I feel bad about nosing into her personal things, but it might hold some more clues to her past. And I have this weird feeling that if I can understand what she’s been trying to hide, I can help her to get well again.
Mamwyn said we’re the only ones who can help. Whenever I think about going back to see my grandmother, my pulse rate shoots up and I feel really anxious. But even so, if I didn’t have to go to Graymouth tomorrow, I’d be back there like a shot.
Dad drops me at the hospital in the afternoon. I spend the next couple of hours with Mum. Her condition hasn’t improved at all. She just scratches at the arms of her chair and whimpers all the time. It’s so sad, and I feel terrible. I know she’d hate it if she was aware of the state she’s in. Mum’s usually so overprotective of me and spends her time fussing round and nagging me to make sure I get to swimming events on time and stuff like that. Now I feel guilty that I found it so irritating.
I try really hard to stay upbeat and keep talking to her. I tell her about what happened when I met Mamwyn and ask her lots of questions. Of course there’s no point. She doesn’t answer. I even tell her about Elliot, but there’s no response.
Normally she’d be asking me loads of questions about him, trying to find out if he’s the kind of person she’d want me to spend time with, and generally being really annoying. But so much better than this. This is awful.
I give up. She doesn’t even know I’m in the room. It’s far worse than last time, when Michelle was with me. I start crying, and once I’ve started, it’s hard to stop. No one comes in the whole time I’m there.
When it’s time to leave, I can’t seem to shift the smell of disinfectant in my nose. My eyes feel sore and puffy.
Things don’t get any better when I get back to Cararth. I want to go to Mamwyn’s but Dad says it’s too late to just turn up unannounced.
I cheer up a bit when I get a message from Elliot wanting to meet up later in the week, but I still feel edgy and restless. After tea, I spend the evening with Dad, watching a sci-fi film I’ve already seen on TV.
The evening seems to drag on for ever.
Dad and I spend half of Monday morning at my school. I have to go and see all my teachers individually to get work from them to do at home. It’s great to see a few friends, and I get a chance to catch up on some of the school gossip at break time while Dad’s in with the headmaster. Everyone’s really nice to me about Mum.
I know Dad wants to get back to the shop before lunchtime if we can, so I say goodbye to everyone at the end of break and go to find him.
He’s waiting for me outside the headmaster’s office.
“Everything okay, Danni?” Dad looks relieved to see me.
“Think so, Dad. Have you finished with Mr Sutton?”
He nods. “Let’s go then, shall we?”
We drive straight to my house from the school. Dad decides to wait outside in the car again, but I take Jackson in with me this time. No point worrying about dog hair now I know Mum’s not coming back anytime soon.
It smells damp and it’s so cold without the heating on. Upstairs in my room, I check my shelves for school books. When Dad saw the head, he got permission for me to work from home for a couple of weeks, but I have to keep in touch with my teachers and send homework when I’ve finished it.
Jackson rolls on my carpet while I search through my drawers for one of my favourite tops. After a few minutes he jumps up and sneezes a couple of times. He wanders out onto the landing.
When I’ve got everything I need, I can’t resist it any longer. I walk into Mum’s room. It smells very faintly of her perfume. Jackson has already made himself at home and curled up in the middle of her bed. He glances up to see if I’m leaving. When he realizes I’m not, he yawns and puts his head back down on his paws.
I open the top drawer where Mum keeps her underwear. I want to find the rest of her diary if it’s in there. I search through, pulling out the remaining socks and tights and dumping them on the bed. Nothing. I stare at the empty drawer, which is lined with shiny red paper. It doesn’t seem to fit in the drawer properly, so I skim the surface with my fingers. I can feel the outline of something underneath. My pulse is racing as I lift the paper.
I find an old school exercise book and a couple of faded postcards. I pick up the postcards. They’re of fishing boats. I turn them over, but there’s nothing on the back. I look at them again. I can just make out the name of one of the fishing boats. Eva Marie. My grandfather’s boat. Looking more carefully, I see the same boat is in the other picture too. My eyes sting with tears. Poor Mum. This must be all she has to remind her of her father.
I put them back and pull out the exercise book. I flip through a few pages, my hands now shaking with anticipation. It’s obviously the rest of the diary. The inside cover says Private, and Mum’s proper name, Mary Pengelly. No wonder she kept it hidden from me.
Looks like she didn’t write in it that regularly. Months go by when she writes nothing.
Mam and Dad were rowing AGAIN last night…
Doesn’t look that interesting. I flip through to the next year.
I think Beryl’s in love with the minister…
Lots more about what a cow Beryl is. I turn to the middle of the diary. She’s fourteen now, nearly as old as me. I’m drawn in immediately.
March 21st
The dreams have begun. Mam says it always starts like this. It gets stronger and stronger until the changing. Soon the water will come through too.
I was hoping maybe I was like Dad and not her, but Mam says it’s a wonderful gift and I’ll und
erstand that soon.
I don’t want the bloody gift. I just want to be normal. Everyone hates the way we are and they’re scared of us. Even Beryl pretends to be scared of me since she started going to the chapel. It’s not like it was in Mam’s day.
I feel a prickling sensation in my hands and glance down at them quickly. My heart plummets. The water is seeping out of my palms again. I feel dizzy suddenly, like I might faint. I drop the book and sit on the bed staring at my hands. The water pools and starts to drip onto my jeans. I can’t hold back the tears any more. Jackson jumps up and tries to sit on my lap. He knows I’m upset. I stroke him and his fur becomes all wet. I look at my hands again but I can’t see properly because the tears have made my vision blurry. I wipe my eyes on Mum’s duvet cover, leaving a smudge of mascara.
The water’s stopped but Jackson’s fur is still damp. I run back to my room to pick up my things. I just want to get out of here.
Back in the car, I dump my stuff on the back seat. I didn’t bring anything from Mum’s room. In fact now I realize I’ve left her diary on the floor. I can’t face going back for it.
“Are you okay, Danni?”
I nod and attempt a smile.
I wonder if I should tell Dad about what’s happening to me, but I can’t. He’d worry too much. If I told Levi, he’d just say I was imagining things. There’s only one person I know would understand.
“Dad, is it okay for me to cycle to Mamwyn’s this afternoon?” I ask.
chapter 17
I wave at Dad standing in the shop doorway. It’s three o’clock already and I want to get to Mamwyn’s and back in daylight.
“Go carefully!” says Dad.
As I wobble off, I’m not sure if he’s more worried about me or Michelle’s bike. I gather speed and ride as fast as I can along the high street towards the coast road. Unfortunately it isn’t fast enough.
“Hey, Danni! Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Elliot. My heart leaps. He must be back from school early. Of course I’m delighted to see him, but my hands have started to tingle again. I begin to panic. I pull the brakes sharply and the bike shudders to a halt.
“Nice bike.” He grins.