‘Baptism record?’
‘She already said no,’ Jack says, the irritation creeping in.
‘School records.’
‘I was home-schooled.’
‘Yeah, but state exams would have you on file.’
‘I didn’t sit state exams.’
‘Okay, cool,’ Bianca says, looking down at her printout from the passport office. ‘A letter from someone who knows you from an early age attesting they believe you to be born in Ireland.’ She looks up at Laura. They all do.
Jack laughs. ‘Well, that should be easy. Know anyone who knows you were born?’
Curt chuckles for Jack’s benefit.
‘No.’ Laura’s eyes fill. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Okay, wait. Something’s up here. You need to tell us what’s going on,’ Jack says gently, and Curtis sits up, all ears.
Part 2
A solitary creature, the lyrebird is a creature of the wild. It cannot, or will not, subsist in cleared and settled areas. While they’re a tame and shy bird, many lyrebirds have been snared alive and are subjected to examination by experienced naturalists. The outcome is that the lyrebird mopes in captivity and quickly perishes.
Ambrose Pratt, The Lore of the Lyrebird
24
After sharing her story with Curtis and Jack, StarrGaze Entertainment book Laura for an interview on Ireland’s biggest radio chat show, an in-depth interview which reveals exclusive never-talked-about details of her life in the Toolin cottage alone for ten years, and a discussion of her inability to get a passport. There follows a debate on air about how Laura or anybody in Laura’s very unusual situation can receive a passport. Members of the public, officials, ring in with tips and advice and tell their own stories. Her local TD’s constituency office vows to help her.
After an exhausting day, feeling utterly drained from sharing herself, her personal story, with strangers who dig at her soul, Laura returns to the apartment. She leans against the door, her eyes closed, her migraine reaching an all-time high.
‘You just shared our exclusive with the entire fucking nation!’
Laura opens her eyes.
Bo is standing before her, hands on her hips. Laura has never seen her so angry.
‘Is that a problem?’ Laura looks nervously to Solomon, who has just stepped out of the bedroom to see what all the fuss is about.
This angers Bo even more, that Laura continuously turns to Solomon for support. She’s using him as her get-out clause. Poor little mountain girl who can’t make decisions for herself, when she’s turned out to be far more savvy than any of them could have imagined.
‘Of course it’s a problem,’ Bo snaps. ‘You told me you were going on air to talk about a passport. Not to reveal everything.’
Laura looks at her in surprise.
‘You’re doing the documentary with me, remember? You’re supposed to be telling me your story, and instead you’re planning to travel to the other side of the world, and telling all to the rag-mags. Oh yes, I heard about that one too.’
Laura swallows nervously. She makes a sound.
‘No, don’t start that, Laura, seriously. Sometimes I think you start that shit to avoid the subject. We’re adults. Start acting like one.’
‘Bo,’ Solomon cuts in. ‘Stop it.’
Bo ignores him and continues: ‘I found you, I brought you here, I got you the place on StarrQuest, you’re staying with me, I’m feeding you, you’re sleeping here—’
‘Bo, stop—’
‘No, don’t interrupt me,’ she raises her voice. ‘The deal was that you share your story with us, not use us to get to bigger and better things.’ She looks Laura up and down, at her clothes and the stack of magazines in her hand. ‘I see you reading through these all day, I see you have a new wardrobe, designer sunglasses. You want to be famous Laura, is that what this is all about?’
‘Bo! Shut up!’ Solomon yells at the top of his voice, which frightens Laura but Bo doesn’t even blink.
‘Stay out of this, Sol – Laura should be no concern of yours,’ she hisses. Which means so many things.
‘No, that’s right, she’s yours and Jack’s baby, isn’t she? The two of you get to play God over somebody else’s life. You accuse Laura of wanting glory? The two of you couldn’t be worse.’
While they shout abuse at each other, Laura looks from one to the other in alarm. Her eyes fill with tears, her hands go to her ears at the awful sound, the venom, the anger and hatred emanating from two people who are supposed to love each other.
‘Stop it!’ she shrieks.
They both look at her. She’s trembling. She looks directly at Bo.
‘The show bought me these clothes. I have to return them when it’s over. Bianca gave me these magazines. Every single one of them has asked me to do an interview or a photoshoot. They wanted me to look through them to see. I said no to all of them but the one I said yes to are paying me. In case you haven’t noticed, I have no money.’ She says this, anger rising in her voice. ‘I can’t pay for my food because I have no money. I can’t pay for my clothes because I have no money. I can’t buy you anything or give you anything in return for what you’ve done for me because I have no money.
‘Aside from not having any money, I couldn’t get a passport. I had no birth certificate. I had no baptism records, no school records, not even a letter from somebody who could attest to me being born in Ireland. I had to go on national radio to tell my personal story to get a passport,’ she says, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. ‘Do you know how humiliating that was? Do you think I wanted to do that? Apparently, the contract that you assisted me in signing states that I’m obligated to carry out all promotional duties that StarrQuest request of me. Australia is included in that, but you don’t need to worry because it doesn’t look as though I’ll be able to get my hands on a passport because there is nobody in the world who is a witness to my birth or existence.
‘Our agreement, Bo, was that you follow me while I try to move on with my life. And I took you up on that because I had no choice. You told me Joe didn’t want me at the cottage any more, and as I had nowhere else to go, all I could do was follow you. You encouraged me to take part in this talent show because you said it would give me options. This is me, trying to make a choice, to make something for myself in the only way that I know how. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I trusted you.’ This she says to Solomon and her voice breaks. Then returning to Bo, she says, ‘You were supposed to follow me, but what I was really doing was following you. You were the only people I had to help me and you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I try to cook as much as possible to show you my thanks, I try to stay in my room, or on the balcony as much as possible to give you both your privacy. Bo, I really do try to stay out of your way. I’m doing what I can.’
Laura seems to make a decision because the tears dry and a determination appears on her face. ‘Unfortunately, instead of trying to build something up, I am clearly breaking things down. I’m going to honour the documentary because I’m an honourable person and I am thankful to you, but I think the best thing for me to do is to get out of here. To leave you in peace. I don’t want to cause you both any more trouble.’ She looks at Solomon, her eyes filled. ‘And I certainly don’t want to come between you two.’ She turns away and moves towards the door.
‘Laura, you don’t have to leave,’ Solomon says, feeling the pain rising in his chest.
‘Yes, I do,’ she says quietly, closing the bedroom door behind her.
Solomon turns to Bo, thunder on his face.
‘Go on, Solomon,’ she says, teeth bared. ‘You have a go at me one more time over something I’ve said or done and I’ll scream bloody murder. She can’t go anywhere anyway.’ She lowers her voice. ‘Where’s she going to go?’
Solomon thinks about it. Bo is right. There is nowhere for Laura to go, which makes him feel hugely relieved, and sad for her at the same time. But he needs to get
away from Bo quickly before he says or does something he’ll regret. ‘I’m out of here,’ he says, grabbing his jacket. ‘Because, right now, I cannot stand to look at you or be anywhere near you.’
‘Good. The feeling’s mutual.’
‘I’m out of the documentary. I don’t want anything to do with it,’ he adds angrily, without thinking it through.
She pauses, then replies less confidently, ‘Good.’
‘It started as something beautiful, but you made it ugly.’
‘Great, thanks.’
‘You hear me, Bo?’
‘Loud and clear, the verbal bullying again. I’m a terrible person, Solomon, you’re a saint. Got it. Why don’t you run away and leave everybody else to clean up the mess? Then you can get on your high horse as usual and blame everybody but yourself.’
‘Go fuck yourself,’ he says, grabbing his keys and banging the door behind him.
Left in silence, Bo sits on the couch, the adrenaline pumping. She bites the skin around her nails, her foot bouncing up and down, pretending she doesn’t care about either of them. But she feels the sting around her nail and tastes blood and of course she cares. She’s got everything riding on this documentary. Financing, promises to investors, her reputation. Her relationship. Everything.
Laura isn’t even moving around in her bedroom, there’s no sound of her packing her bags. Bo doubts she’ll leave. What she said to Solomon was the truth: Laura has nowhere to go. As the minutes tick by in silence she calms down; perhaps she went at Laura too hard about the radio show. After all, how could Laura discuss not being able to get a passport if she didn’t tell her entire story. It’s not entirely Laura’s fault, the situation has gotten out of control. It was badly managed but who could plan for this level of insanity?
There’s a knock at the door. Bo gets up to answer, assuming it’s Solomon, but as she reaches for the latch, she remembers him grabbing his keys.
She pauses. ‘Who is it?’
‘Bianca from StarrQuest. Somebody downstairs let me in.’
Bo pulls the door open. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Hello to you too,’ Bianca says. ‘I’m here to collect Lyrebird. I’ve booked her a hotel.’
Bo stares at her, open-mouthed. ‘But you can’t take her away.’
Bianca frowns. ‘I’m not taking her away, she called me. Hi,’ she says looking past Bo.
Bo’s mind races. She should call Sol, he would stop this from happening, but by the time she processes it, makes a decision to search for her phone, Laura is leaving with Bianca, her hands full of her bags of belongings.
Laura turns to Bo. ‘I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Thank you for letting me stay in your home, but you’re right, Bo, I’m an adult and I don’t need minding.’
Bo stares at her open-mouthed as Lyrebird flies away from her life.
In a city centre hotel, pacing the floor of the box bedroom, Laura’s heart pounds with panic.
What has she done, what has she done? She’s cut herself off from the people she truly needs. Yet despite the fear of what she’s done, she knows it’s the right thing. The atmosphere in the apartment is toxic. She had to get away from them, and wasn’t it Solomon who was slowly cutting himself off from her? At first it was off and on, and then he disappeared and he cut the ties completely. She may have lived alone for most of her life but she can still read people.
The phone rings, giving her a fright.
‘Hello.’
‘It’s Jane calling from reception, Ms Button, we have a man here named Solomon who wishes to see you. Should I send him up?’
Her heart pounds.
‘Yes, thank you.’ She can barely breathe.
She rushes to the bathroom and splashes water on her face. Her mind races as she thinks of what to say. How she will refuse to go back to the apartment. Or perhaps she won’t refuse at all, maybe this is exactly what she wants. He’s saved her again, he’s going to take her from this hotel where she doesn’t want to be anyway.
There’s a knock at her door.
She doesn’t trust herself being in the same room as him. What she’s feeling for him is wrong. She puts the chain on the door before opening it.
Solomon’s dark eyes sear into hers. She swallows. He looks at the chain, hurt.
‘I understand if you don’t want to see me, I wouldn’t blame you after what we’ve done. I want to apologise for everything. I’m sorry for what Bo said today, I’m sorry I asked you to enter StarrQuest, I’m sorry I left you this week, I’m sorry I took you from your home. I’m sorry about it all.’
Laura’s heart pounds. She can barely think straight with all she’s hearing.
‘I don’t blame you for leaving the apartment. You’re right and I don’t blame you if you never want to see either of us again.’ He looks down. ‘I just came here to say that I’m sorry. You’re right that you’ll be better off without us. The show will take care of you. There is so much out there for you.’
She feels his hand on hers, and she looks down and sees that he has reached through the gap in the door. His touch is soft and her body tingles. She feels a rush of adrenaline, and sweet sadness. She feels the ache of his goodbye. He’s slipping away, she’s watching it happen, and her heart pounds and pounds like a warning drum. She wanted him to take her from here. She wanted him to say that they wanted her back. Instead, he’s letting her go.
‘If you ever need me,’ he says, embarrassed to suggest it after all that he feels he’s done, ‘I’m here. I’ll always be here.’
Then before he’s had time to finish his final word, his hand is gone and so is he, leaving Laura breathless and staring at an empty gap.
The pain in her head seems to shift to her heart, her entire chest aches. She slides down the wall, pushes the door closed and sits on the floor until the room gets dark, feeling yet another great loss in her life.
What has she done?
25
Laura was wrong about Bo’s luck. It goes from bad to worse for her documentary as the public gets behind Lyrebird. Before she knows what’s happening, Laura has been granted an emergency passport to fly to Australia. Mouth to Mouth productions are absolutely not allowed to accompany her on the trip. After the revelation of Lyrebird’s sad and solitary life, she is firmly in the nation’s hearts. They want to help her get along as much as possible.
By Sunday evening, carrying a new small carry-on case, Laura boards a flight to Australia. She will arrive on Tuesday morning at 06.25. She will do interviews and a photoshoot on Tuesday, the big TV appearance on Wednesday, then will leave Australia on Thursday at 22.25, returning to Dublin on Saturday night at 11.20. Two days in Australia. She will be back in time for her semi-final performance on Monday.
Despite her early arrival, Laura has to begin work at twelve. The assumption is that she’ll have had plenty of rest in first-class during her twenty-three-hour journey. In reality, she barely blinked, there was so much to take in, to process. She’d never been at an airport before, nor on a plane, and once on the plane she kept mimicking the sounds – much to the air steward’s frustration as she mimicked the ping of the call button. He stopped coming to her after the first four times, but then when she really needed him to help her with her tray, he wasn’t there.
She’s wide-eyed and alert on the way to her hotel. There is so much to see, she has been greeted at the airport by more photographers and reporters, then bundled into a black jeep. She’s taken to the Langham Hotel, to a beautiful hotel suite. She soaks in a bath and is starting to nod off when Bianca phones to tell her the car is ready to take her to the photoshoot in the Dandenong Ranges.
Laura sits in the back seat of the car, quietly, no conversation between her and Bianca, but she’s happy with that. There is so much of this new world to take in. The new accents, sounds, smells, the new look. Despite wanting to immerse herself in what feels like a new world, she can’t help but feel detached. It’s as though there is a piece of her missing, a
piece that she has left at home. She’s homesick. She’s felt like this twice in her life: when she moved from her family home to the Toolin cottage and when she moved from that home to Dublin. She feels disconnected, like the same person but in the wrong place. It is a surreal feeling, while everybody carries on as normal around her.
Photo with Lyrebird, is all the schedule says, but what Laura discovers on arrival is that the destination for the photoshoot is an enchanting boutique wedding venue called Lyrebird Falls, set within the evergreen forest of the Dandenong Ranges on the edge of Melbourne.
A crew waits for her. She shakes so many hands and hears so many names that go out of her head immediately, she barely has a chance to look around before she is seated in a chair for hair and make-up. Everyone is friendly and chatty, everyone is dressed in black, but she can’t help feeling disconnected, like she’s there but on the outside, watching everybody. She can’t get inside the moment.
They have all seen her audition on StarrQuest. They all ask her polite questions about her talent, where did she learn to do it, how did she learn to do it? She has no answers for them and they fall into a polite silence. Bianca tells her she should prepare some of these answers in her head, for future interviews. Laura mulls over all of these questions, never having had to analyse herself and her actions so much in her life. Why does she do the things that she does, why is she the person she is? Laura wonders why these things are in any way important to other people.
Despite the hair and make-up team being familiar with her audition piece, they are concerned with her spontaneous bursts. The stylist unzips a bag, Laura mimics it.
‘Are you okay?’
She unfolds a fantastic rail that magically appears from a small bag, and begins to hang the clothes.
Laura mimics the sound of the hairspray.
‘Do you need some water?’
‘Are you rehearsing?’
What hasn’t been explained in the multitude of print and social media that’s been dedicated to Laura Lyrebird Button is that this ‘gift’ she has is completely and utterly natural. It is not contrived, concocted, conceived as part of an act. It is within her, part of her. It is her make-up, her function, her way to communicate, as others have their own ways. There is no talk of her spontaneity, her quirk, if you will. It’s almost as though it isn’t seen, it doesn’t want to be seen, as though the only gifts these days that are taken seriously are those that come in packages, carefully wrapped, and well-presented to the world. She cannot turn it on and off like a tap, yet it’s left to Laura to rein it in, when they knew what they were getting in the first place.
Lyrebird Page 21