Ghostbird

by Carol Lovekin

  If she leaned into him, everything would change.

  Folding his other arm across her body, he placed his hand on the back of her head. Violet could no longer hear the bees in the lavender. His shirt smelled of launderette soap. The birds fell silent and as the sky changed from blue to grey, she wanted her other daughter so badly it made her shake.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘I promised.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I don’t know. Be here when I get back?’

  He smiled and let her go. ‘What, out here?’ He looked up at the sky. ‘Have a heart, cariad; it’s going to chuck it down.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Go home, Owen.’ She held out her arm. ‘Write down your number.’

  He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and reached for her hand. ‘I’m that popular today I need a social secretary.’

  As he wrote the number on her hand his finger brushed the scar. For the first time, the skin didn’t itch.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ she said. ‘First, I have to find Cadi.’

  Cadi slipped into the house, up to her room and sat at the window.

  Owen and Violet stood in the garden, his arm around her. She watched until they drew apart and disappeared. She heard Owen’s voice saying goodbye, and her mother coming into the house and calling up the stairs. From the doorway, she looked down at Violet.

  ‘Owen said to say goodbye. He said to call him if you need anything.’

  Cadi stared. ‘What’s going on, Mam? Are you okay?’

  ‘I think so.’ Violet hesitated for a moment. ‘I’d like to talk now, if that’s alright with you.’

  I’m waiting…

  Her wings are as broad and pleasing as an unblemished sky.

  The ghost dreams about songs and laughter, and each dream brings half-remembered landscapes of unknown longing. The desire to fly as high as the moon is intense.

  Waves of air ripple through her feathers, her wings billow and lift.

  She has stopped wanting to eat chocolate and forgotten what pasta tastes like. Instead, she hunts mice until dawn.

  Her longing for her sister – and to be heard – exists in a space where she remembers her heart ought to be.

  Other voices – other sufferings – murmur in the outer reaches of her new dreams.

  Can you hear me?

  Seventy

  Afterwards, Cadi couldn’t remember which one of them cried first.

  She watched Violet’s tears slow-falling as if they were notes from a lost tune, uncertain how they were supposed to sound. Cadi had never been exposed to this level of despair. Her mother’s sad, flawed life lay between them like the doll she has once discarded.

  Cadi said, ‘Do you remember the rag doll?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ve still got it. I found it in the bin.’

  ‘I should never have thrown it away.’ Violet twisted her hands. ‘There was so much hate in me. I even thought it would be better for you if I’d died too, before you were born and had to have me for a mother.’

  She told Cadi as much as she could remember, explaining how some memories were buried too deeply and hurt too much.

  Cadi saw she would have to be patient. ‘Can you bear to tell me about Dora?’

  Violet smiled, and the longing in it almost broke Cadi’s heart.

  ‘When she was born, I saw inside her to the sweetness to come. She smiled all the time as if she could see the world.’

  ‘I must have been a disappointment.’

  Violet’s face fell. ‘You haven’t had much to smile about, have you?’

  ‘You saw me and it frightened you.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’

  Violet fingered her cigarette packet. After a moment she looked up and said, ‘The other day, you said there hadn’t been enough time to find out how your father felt?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was the same with for me with Dora. There wasn’t enough time to know her.’

  A scatter of rain made them both look up.

  ‘I ought to have used the time since then better. For you.’

  It was an out-loud thought, addressed to the past, and Cadi was conscious of her mother relinquishing something. Violet began talking about her fear of the lake, about how the police came and how, two weeks later, they came again. The words tumbled out of her. ‘And when I knew I was pregnant again, it was like he’d tricked me. It felt deliberate and another rip in my heart. I didn’t understand how he could leave me to deal with it alone. How I was going to summon enough love for you. It was too much. You were too much.’

  Cadi didn’t flinch. Years of silence lay between them. The window was dotted with points of rain and she caught them with the edge of her eyes, determined nothing would distract either of them.

  ‘Asleep and awake,’ Violet went on, ‘he haunted my dreams. And Lili reminded me of him every single day. Is it any wonder I resented her? I loved your father so much. Even when he died and I despised him, I carried him with me.’

  She explained how she still dreamed of the lake, as if it flowed in front of her. Her voice broke and large slow tears rolled down her face. ‘And sometimes, I see him floating away with her.’

  And now Dora’s in all our dreams, Cadi thought.

  Her tears made Violet soft. ‘It was never your fault, Cadi, never. It was me and my misery and selfishness.’

  ‘Lili says if we don’t forgive it shrinks out hearts. And we have to forgive ourselves.’

  Maddau. The word had settled in her heart like a shadow. Forgive.

  ‘Your aunt is a very odd woman.’ Violet raised her hand. ‘No, Cadi, listen. Lili and I have had our differences, but I know she’s wise. And I’m not a fool. In the beginning I admit, I didn’t like her. Even without knowing me Lili managed to work me out, and it scared me.’

  Cadi made tea. She found the Rescue Remedy and put a few drops in Violet’s. ‘Lili says it’s good for shock.’

  ‘I used to think you loved Lili more than you loved me.’

  ‘Sometimes I do. I told you.’

  When she mentioned the photographs, Violet didn’t seem to mind.

  ‘I did feel awful, Mam, but I had to know.’

  ‘It’s alright. Forget it.’

  It was harder to explain how it made her feel to see her father’s image with air for a face. She averted her eyes, a childish gesture.

  ‘I’ve overheard things all my life,’ she said. ‘Half-truths and whispers and then I heard you telling Lili he was a coward.’ For a moment, Violet’s stricken face made Cadi falter. It was out in the open now and nothing was going to stop her. ‘All I ever wanted was to know them: my dad and my sister.’ She paused. ‘I hear her. It’s like she’s trying to talk to me, as if she’s a ghost.’

  The spot at the nape of her neck tingled.

  Violet shook her head. ‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’

  You’re like Owen; you’re terrified they might be real.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘However much they hurt,’ Violet said, ‘memories keep me linked to Dora, not ghosts.’ She shivered. ‘Touching those memories has been like a drug. I couldn’t give her up.’

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  Violet drummed her fingers on the cigarette packet and said nothing.

  ‘The ghost is real.’ Cadi’s fingers crossed themselves. ‘I’ve seen her.’

  ‘I told you, I don’t believe in them.’ Violet shook her head, dismissing ghosts. ‘Dora was too real, Cadi, and too small.’ Struggling not to cry again, she went on. ‘I’m scared she’ll become nothing more than a footnote and I’ll be the only one who remembers her. I’m scared I’ll forget what she looked like.’

  ‘So tell me, remember now and tell me. I won’t forget and if she is a ghost – and I think she is – and I know her, I can help her.’ Cadi uncrossed her fingers. ‘That’s what Lili says. A ghost has to know it can move on. Otherwise, it can’t.’ />
  ‘Lili means well, Cadi, but really, there aren’t any ghosts.’ Violet pulled a cigarette from the pack and Cadi didn’t say a word. ‘Your sister had curly hair like yours, only it was blonde.’ She snapped her lighter. ‘She was scared of spiders and mad about rabbits and she blew kisses at stars. She was funny and always happy. The day she learned to walk, she took off down the garden like a wind-up toy.’ Violet’s eyes shone with tears. ‘She used to bring me wild flowers. Every time she went out, she’d bring me flowers. It’s why I can’t bear it when you bring them into the house.’

  ‘Oh, Mam, I’m sorry. It’s because I didn’t know.’

  Violet nodded, twisting the lighter in her hands. ‘I know. It’s alright.’

  ‘Lili said you argued about her name.’

  ‘Yes, we did, because of the lake and his obsession with myths and legends. I didn’t get it. I still don’t.’ Violet dragged hard on her cigarette. ‘He wouldn’t talk to me. He told me and told me and never listened, as if my feelings didn’t matter.’

  Cadi didn’t want to hear any more criticism of Teilo. ‘Tell me about her name.’

  ‘I liked it, and from the moment I held her, I knew I would call her Dora.’

  ‘I like it too.’ Cadi found she could smile. ‘Blodeuwedd is pretty amazing, but it’s a bit of a mouthful.’

  ‘Cadi, you can call her what you like.’

  ‘Dora’s a proper name.’ Cadi gave her mother a look. ‘If you ask me, Isadora’s as ridiculous as Blodeuwedd.’

  ‘Even Lili called her Dora most of the time.’

  ‘You have to make it okay with Lili too, Mam,’ Cadi said. ‘He was her brother.’

  ‘I know, and I will.’ Violet stubbed out her cigarette. ‘One thing at a time, eh?’

  Seventy-one

  That night it rained so hard, the stream behind the church burst its banks.

  As the wind rose, it snatched at branches, bending them until they snapped. People dreamed they were caught up in a torrent of rain and carried off on the wind.

  The ghost who has almost turned into a bird makes a dream for Lili. She isn’t sure she trusts Lili and wants to frighten her away.

  Rain streams off her feathers and she shakes with cold. Her world is still too small, her share of the sky little more than a wistful thought.

  Listening for her heart, she hears its defenceless beat against the bones of her slender ribs.

  Cadi sleeps.

  The ghost makes her sister a different dream, but loses her hold on it and can only watch as it flies away out of her reach.

  Lili dreams herself running through a storm. Rain lashes down and she moves through it, bone dry. Drenched to the skin, girls in gauzy gowns stumble and trip alongside her. Lili’s eyes dart from side to side; she watches the soundless crying mouths of the flimsy girls.

  And now she does hear: the clash of pursuit. Fear finally catches up with her and she runs deeper into the wood, after the girls and toward the scent of a stagnant, black lake.

  Claws tangle in her hair and she runs and runs until she thinks her heart will burst…

  In the cottage on the other side of the wall, light from a brand new moon bled through the clouds, into her bedroom and Lili’s ghost dream floated through the wall to where Cadi lay sleeping.

  Alarmed, the ghost tries to change the dream, make it less frightening.

  Peidiwch â bod ofn…

  I’m sorry – don’t be afraid…

  In her bed, Cadi turned in her sleep and muttered.

  Forgive…

  She looked at her hands in her sleep and rubbed them together.

  Peidiwch â bod ofn…

  Her hands fluttered over the duvet. She dreamed herself flying toward the lake and her fingers moved like wings.

  Seventy-two

  Lili was furious.

  ‘What did he think he was doing?’

  ‘That’s what I said. It’s okay though. He made sure she knew who he was.’

  ‘I bet he did!’ Lili slammed the teapot onto the table.

  ‘Lili, no harm’s been done.’

  Lili waved her away. ‘He’s trouble, Violet, you know he is.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Violet looked away, although not before Lili saw a flash of guilt.

  ‘You’ve changed your tune!’ Lili threw her hands in the air. ‘Have you been seeing him?’ Her eyes glittered. ‘You have, haven’t you?’

  ‘It’s alright, Lili. I get it now. It’s not what you think.’

  ‘I haven’t spent all these years keeping your secrets for you to suddenly decide the past doesn’t matter anymore.’

  ‘She knows.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Cadi. She found the inquest report.’

  ‘Yes, she told me.’

  Violet gave a half smile and nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose she would.’

  Lili shrugged. ‘Never mind that; what about Owen?’

  ‘It’s not a problem.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Lili, I’m tired of where I’ve been. Maybe he can help me work out where I’m going.’

  ‘You mean…?’ Lili sat down. She knew a thing or two about signs, how even when people thought they weren’t giving away a thing, the truth was written all over their faces.

  Violet smiled. ‘Have I taken the wind out of your sails, Lili?’

  ‘A bit.’

  You’ve flattened my sails. It seemed reasonable to ask questions, and yet Lili knew, Violet wasn’t finished.

  ‘When I came here, it was like I’d escaped. The trouble is, if you run away you need to know where you’re running to. This was the wrong place. Even before…’ Violet sat still, as if she weighed her words. ‘I don’t fit in small places – I never have.’

  ‘You used to walk all the time. I remember.’

  ‘And then I stopped. I stopped doing a lot of things. And now…’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘I want to love my child.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Does there have to be one?’

  ‘Don’t kid a kidder, Violet.’

  ‘Okay.’ Violet stood up. ‘Then watch this space.’

  Ignoring Owen was no longer an option.

  Was this, Violet wondered, what came from trust, when all of a sudden she could see possibilities beyond her entrenched unhappiness?

  She did what she always did when she felt exposed, and retreated. This time she found herself drawn to old haunts. Treading the familiar paths. It wasn’t escape she sought, it was space to think and instead of aimless wandering she looked where she was going, marked each tree and flower and hardly noticed when she got caught in the rain.

  Outside the cottages a large puddle formed. Cadi managed to navigate the side of the road without getting her feet wet. She sent Cerys a text and by the time she reached the square, her friend was waiting by the church.

  ‘What gives, sweetie?’

  ‘I think my mother’s having a thing with her ex-boyfriend and my aunt’s having one with the new lesbian in town.’

  ‘To the swings?’

  The park was deserted. It was too early for children and the tramps and lovers were long gone.

  ‘So, who’s the mystery man?’

  ‘Owen somebody, he used to know my dad.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Mam had a fling with him before I was born, before Dora died.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  ‘I’m not.’ Cadi hooked her hands round the chains of the swing, kicked it into slow motion. ‘Oh yes, and I found out about my dad. He killed himself.’ She found the words easier to say than she’d imagined. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Now tell me you want my life.’ The details of the inquest were quickly told and Cerys was suitably subdued. The rest took a little longer.

  ‘Owen’s okay actually,’ Cadi said. ‘I like him. He’s got this gorgeous dog. She’s having puppies and he said I can have one.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘Yes. It’s weird
though. I finally got my mother talking about my real dad, and it looks like she’s got another one lined up.’

  ‘Do you mind?’ Cerys peered over her glasses.

  ‘I don’t think so. I guess I’ll just have to find out. And it’s really sad. I never thought I’d feel sorry for Violet.’ Cadi kicked her foot and the swing creaked. ‘Once she started to tell me, it kind of made it better. I’ve got memories now, even though they’re new and not really memories at all, if that makes sense.’

  ‘Of course it does.’

  ‘They’re better than nothing.’

  Cerys brought her swing to a halt. ‘I wonder why your dad didn’t leave a note.’

  ‘I thought that. Most people do, don’t they?’

  ‘I don’t know; I’ve never known anyone who killed themself before.’

  ‘No, me neither.’

  They stared at one another, and Cerys burst out laughing. She clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Cadi. My God, that’s awful.’

  Cadi shook her head and said it was so horribly funny you couldn’t help laughing. If she didn’t laugh she’d have to cry again and she’d cried so much she could well be responsible for the flood in the lane. ‘A note might have explained why he did it.’

  ‘And she’d have known, and told you.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Cadi sighed. ‘I guess there wasn’t a note, then. I’m still going to ask her.’

  ‘What about the lesbians?’

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘It’s not as if we hadn’t guessed is it? About Lili. It was only a matter of time.’

  ‘Her name’s Pomona.’

  Cerys smiled with delight. ‘Now that’s classy.’

  ‘How did I know you were going to say that?’

  ‘Because you know my every thought? You and I are destined for one another, I keep telling you. You’re sensible, I’m smart, and neither of us do drama.’

  ‘You love drama.’

  ‘Don’t mistake drama for passion, cariad.’ Cerys eyed the sky. ‘I do like the idea of love though.’ She sighed.