‘No need for that.’ Seth sighed deeply. ‘I’ll look after her like I did when she was a baby.’
In the silence that followed, a feeling of outrage began to rise up in Kite. So they had made a plan to take her away somewhere without even consulting her. What did they think that she would do – follow in Dawn’s footsteps? And if she couldn’t talk to Miss Choulty, how was she going to speak to this counsellor? Never in a million years would she ever take her own life, but then again, the thought had never crossed her mind that Dawn would consider such a thing either.
Seth began strumming his guitar. He was playing her lullaby. The song that to thousands of other people was Seth Solomon’s ‘hit’ belonged in truth only to her.
‘It was your naming day that released the song writer in me,’ he never tired of telling her.
She knew the words so well that she let them wash over her as she listened through the wall, the tune meandering through her thoughts.
‘How do you see the world, my love?
Looking up at the sky
Eyes bright
Gazing into the blue
My love
Diamonds darting, lifting, floating . . .’
Tomorrow, Kite thought, I will be sixteen and it should be Dawn’s turn to sit on my bed and wish me a happy birthday.
‘Looking up at the sky
My love
Eyes bright
Hands unfolding, reaching out
So much hope
So much joy
So much life.’
Kite cast around the room, letting her eyes settle on the bright multicoloured diamonds of her birthday kites. There was no space for posters, or photos, or anything else apart from her long mirror, her wardrobe and a few bookshelves – because the fifteen kites, one for every year of her life, dominated her horizon. Just as well that even Ruby would understand there was no room now for any more kites after this year.
The door swung open gently, wafting kite tails. For a moment Kite almost expected Dawn to be standing there, but it was Seth who hovered in the entrance, strumming away, as if asking permission to enter. She nodded and he strolled around aimlessly; singing and playing, lost somewhere deep in his own thoughts.
Gradually, note by note, she felt her body relax. The song took her to a faraway time in her own childhood. Eventually Seth’s voice trailed off. He placed his guitar by her bed and lay beside her. Tiredness swam around her head, and her eyelids felt unnaturally heavy. Seth flicked his sandy silver-flecked hair over one eye and fidgeted with his collection of leather bracelets. He had one from each of the many festivals he’d played at.
‘I’ve been thinking that you and I should go away for the summer. Get away from . . . well – just get away really.’
When she didn’t respond he continued. ‘Sid from my record company’s got this idea about a new ballad album. He’s sending songwriters off to write about the places their ancestors came from.’
‘Sheffield?’
‘Your grandpa was from there, and your grandma was brought up in a children’s home there, but it wasn’t where she was from originally.’ Kite nodded. She vaguely remembered him saying something about that, but as her grandparents had died before she was born, she never really felt that connected to them.
‘Mum once told me that her maiden name, ‘Storey’, was from the Lake District or around that part of the world. When I was about your age I asked her why I didn’t have any grandparents. She just said that her mum and dad had “given her up”, she didn’t know why and she didn’t want to dwell on it. It was obviously too painful for her, so I stopped asking questions, but my finding out can’t do her any harm now, can it? Besides, I’ve always wanted to see the Lakes; it’s supposed to be beautiful up there.’
Kite was only half listening to Seth’s ramblings, but she was grateful that he wasn’t trying to get her to talk about Dawn or, worse still, her birthday. She had told Ruby a hundred times to cancel even the idea of it. She couldn’t stand the thought of stepping into her seventeenth year without Dawn.
‘Anyway I think it would be quite something for us to find out about my family’s roots together,’ Seth said in his soft, contemplative voice, still staring at the ceiling.
Ruby had been so set on teaching Kite about the history of her family in the Caribbean that Kite had spent most of her preschool years in St Kitts back when Grandad Cyril was alive. She could picture him holding on to her as she stood on his feet and he danced her around the room roaring with laughter. Ruby said that any daughter of hers should have carnival and sunshine in her soul. But all she knew about Seth’s family is that they were from Sheffield, and now it seemed that even that was only half the story. It reminded Kite of something Dawn had said in drama one day, after Dawn’s uncannily accurate impression of Ruby.
‘I wish I came from somewhere else, like you!’
‘But we’re both from London!’
‘Yes! But you know what I mean; you’ve got your St Kitts family too and all Ruby’s arty connections. We don’t really see anyone in our family. What do I say if someone asks me what my culture is?’
Now Kite thought she might be beginning to understand what Dawn had been getting at. Kite had Grandma Grace and Jai and all her cousins in St Kitts, and even though they were so far away, she Skyped them most weeks and they were always in her thoughts. So maybe if Dawn had belonged to a big bustling family of aunties and uncles and cousins, she might have found someone to talk to. Maybe if Dawn had had a Grandma Grace with all her funny stories . . . Now Kite thought about it, there were plenty of things that she might not tell Seth or Ruby, but she couldn’t think of anything really that she would need to hide from her grandma.
On the occasions that he’d mentioned them, Seth always referred to his mother and father as ‘Grandma Hannah’ and ‘Grandpa David’, which was strange to Kite as Ruby and Seth always made such a big deal about people not being labelled by their titles.
‘What was their surname?’ Kite asked suddenly. When she spoke her voice sounded strangely flat and lifeless to her.
‘Didn’t I ever tell you?’ Seth asked in surprise.
Kite shook her head.
‘Jackson. I suppose I have found it a bit hard to talk about them – you know, because they died so close to when you were born. I was gutted about that. Your grandma went just a month before you arrived. Ruby was so pregnant at her funeral. That’s what upset me the most. She was really looking forward to meeting you.’ Seth’s eyes filled with tears as he hugged Kite to him.
‘I would have liked to meet her too. So I could have been Kite Jackson?’ she asked as she tried out her new name. ‘I prefer Solomon . . .’
Seth nodded. ‘I did too! My “Song of Solomon” album did pretty well for me, so I never used Jackson after that! Anyway, what do you think to a road trip to the Lakes? How about setting off tomorrow? It might make it easier, on your birthday, to be doing something different.’
Kite shrugged by way of answer. She couldn’t feel any worse than she already did, and maybe if she got away from Fairview and London, where everything reminded her of Dawn, she would be able to sleep.
‘OK!’ Kite whispered.
‘Good!’ Seth sighed with relief, wrapping his arm around Kite’s shoulder. ‘You know Ruby’s choreographing this show in Manchester, so she can come up and visit from time to time. Wait till you see the house the record company’s rented for us. It’s supposed to have been designed by some prize-winning architect. Shall we have a look online?’ Seth walked over to the computer and went to switch it on.
‘Leave it, Seth,’ Kite groaned.
‘OK, then it can be a surprise.’ He smiled, picked up his guitar and walked out of the room.
As soon as he was gone she regretted not showing more interest. He’d looked so upset when he’d talked about Grandma Hannah dying. Knowing Seth, he was probably trying to find a way to get her to share her grief with him, but she’d pushed him away, like she seemed to p
ush everyone away now.
Bitter Sixteenth – 20 July
Kite watched as the display on her alarm clock switched to 5.42 a.m., the exact time of her birth. These were important times, times that people should know, the time of your birth and the time of your death, but even with the inquest over, nobody was able to pinpoint the moment of Dawn’s death. With thoughts like these filling her mind, Kite was grateful to be heading off.
Kite watched the rain fall steadily. She couldn’t remember the last time it had rained on her birthday. It had been raining since Dawn’s funeral. It made her shudder now to think of Dawn, who had always smelt so clean, like a spring day, festering in the stagnant water of her grave. No! She would not allow these gruesome visions to enter her mind. Kite walked over to her bed and rested her head on her pillows, closed her eyes and tried to think of nothing.
No matter how long she lay there, just trying to breathe, she could not escape the endless whirring of her mind. She stood up, straightened her back and stretched out her arms as if she was walking a tightrope towards the mirror. Her breath misted the glass and it was a relief not to have to face herself on her most miserable birthday ever.
Kite crossed the room and logged on to Facebook. There were plenty of birthday messages from people in her tutor group. She quickly scrolled through them. There was a sweet one from Jamila – ‘I’m thinking of you, and my family makes Dua for you every day. I’ve got a little present. Let me know when you’re ready to see people.’ There were also ‘thinking of you’s from the running club. ‘Whenever you’re ready to come back, we’ll be waiting for you.’ No one was insensitive enough to actually say ‘Happy Birthday’ but they sent their ‘best wishes’. Next Kite read through the dozens of new messages on Dawn’s memorial page. If she’d really been this popular, she would have had someone to talk to, thought Kite, closing down the screen and switching off her computer. I don’t ever want to read this rubbish again. She was actually looking forward to getting in the car and driving away.
At that moment Ruby knocked on her door.
‘Brought you some breakfast.’
The smell of freshly baked bread filled the flat. Usually, at the first wholesome scent of it, Kite’s stomach would groan with hunger, but today it made her feel slightly sick. Ruby had put together a case of things that Kite might need: cagoules, sweatshirts, jumpers, outward-bound gear. ‘You’ll be grateful for this, because from what I hear, it always rains up there!’ Ruby’s voice was slightly strained and Kite tried not to meet her eyes – she knew her mother loved making a fuss of her on her birthday and she couldn’t bear to hear anyone wish her happiness today.
‘Got enough running gear?’ asked Ruby, folding up a few Lycra tops and leggings from Kite’s drawers and packing them in the case.
Kite didn’t answer. Couldn’t Ruby tell that she had no strength to walk, let alone run? It was as if she thought that running again would cure her. Of what? Dawn finishing herself off in her bedroom downstairs?
Ruby sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s shoulders; the strength of her perfume made Kite cough. She pulled away sharply, but Ruby caught hold of her hand, refusing to let go.
‘Let’s just sit together, darlin’, for a while. How about I do your nails, like we always do? Look! I’ve gone delicate turquoise; this is the exact colour of the blanket I wrapped you in when you were born!’ She fluttered her fingers towards Kite.
Kite flinched.
‘Sorry. I’m not in the mood.’
‘I know you don’t want me to, but I think it’s wrong not to at least mark your sixteenth birthday. There’s only one thing I have to give to you.’
‘Why can’t you just leave me alone?’ Kite’s voice was shrill and full of anger.
‘You know this is hard for all of us.’ Kite noticed that her mother’s eyes were bloodshot as she looked back at her from the doorway. Seth always said that Ruby was warm enough to break the iciest heart, and at that moment Kite realized how selfish she was being: it was Ruby who needed to mark her birthday, more than she did. She reminded herself how much she regretted being so off with Seth yesterday and relented.
‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘Bring it through!’
For sixteen years this moment had been just between the two of them. Ruby reappeared in the doorway, her hands behind her back, unable to hide the size of her diamond-shaped parcel. Kite felt nothing inside, not the usual bubbling up of excitement, or the ridiculous urgency she’d always felt as soon as she held the new kite in her hands; to run with it and watch it soar through the sky. Since Dawn had moved into Fairview her ritual had been to call for her to fly her kite with her on her birthday morning.
‘Come on, darlin’.’ Ruby laid a hand on Kite’s arm as she listlessly unwrapped the first layer of bright yellow tissue paper.
In front of her was a kite unlike any of the others in her collection. She ran her fingers over what looked like a patchwork of tiny triangular pieces of parachute silk. Handwritten into each coloured panel in gold and silver were birthday wishes from people from all parts of her life, here and in St Kitts. Ruby’s sparkling fingernails traced over the many messages that she must have spent weeks collecting and sewing together.
‘Happy Birthday, my beauty,’ read the message from Grandma Grace.
‘Go crazy, girl!’ her cousin Jai wrote, in his so-laid-back-it-was-almost-lying-down, spidery handwriting.
On one triangle was written: ‘To our wonderful daughter, our Kite Spirit, on your 16th birthday, love Ruby and Seth xx’.
Ruby hugged her tight as she read her own message and for a moment Kite closed her eyes and allowed herself to be comforted.
‘There are loads more messages,’ Ruby encouraged her, and for her mother’s sake only Kite opened her eyes and read on.
‘You turn my world! Love Mali xxx’
‘Who’s Mali?’ Ruby asked, smiling as she read the message at the same time as Kite. ‘I sent a few triangles and pens in a packet down to Circus Space and this is what came back.’ Well, they had been sort of going out together – ‘sort of’ was actually the only way she had ever been out with a boy. It didn’t seem worth spending so much time with someone unless you really cared and, the truth is, she had never felt that way about anyone yet.
‘Just someone at Circus Space,’ she muttered.
Reading this now, she wondered what Mali thought of her for not being in touch; he’d been messaging her on Facebook and she just hadn’t replied. She’d let her phone run out of charge ages ago because she couldn’t stand to see Dawn’s name on it. What do you do with the text messages from your best friend when she’s not here any more? Deleting them would be like erasing her. Anyway, Kite hadn’t seen any recent messages from Mali – no birthday wishes on Facebook this morning – so she assumed that he had finally given up on her.
Kite read on.
‘We have an appointment on the cloud swing! Love Annalisa x’
Ruby attempted to skip the next message, gliding over it. But the second that Kite recognized the careful handwriting, she moved Ruby’s hand aside to reveal . . .
‘Happy Birthday, “Thithter”. Here’s to flying for your 16th! Love Dawn X’
‘I got everyone to sign the silk ages ago so that I’d have time to sew it together,’ explained Ruby.
It was all too much for Kite.
‘All history now.’ She spat the bitter words at Ruby.
‘I thought about taking Dawn’s message out, but that didn’t feel right either . . .’
They sat in silence for a while. ‘Thank you,’ Kite whispered, softening as she took in the work that Ruby must have put into making this. She squeezed Ruby’s hand before getting up and walking around the room to examine her collection of kites. A different colour for every year, but there was nothing that came close to this exquisite hand-made multicoloured creation.
‘The material’s from recycled carnival costumes.’ Ruby smoothed her hands over the silk. ‘Well, you know,
my darlin’, it was meant to be such a special birthday.’ Her liquid liner had smudged with tears, leaving dark rings around her eyes like bruises.
‘I’m on the phone any time of the day or night if you need me, and I’ll come over when I can.’ Ruby smiled.
‘I’m not taking my mobile,’ Kite mumbled.
‘I never thought I’d hear the day!’ Ruby took Kite’s chin in her hands, and Kite pulled away from her once more. ‘Well, Seth’s got his, so we can always talk. I know how tired you are, darlin’ – maybe you’ll sleep in the car.’ Ruby clapped her palms against her head as if she’d been a fool. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before. It’s how we used to get you to sleep when you were a baby . . . driving you around the block.’
‘Don’t you get it? Little Kite’s not a baby any more, and little Dawn’s—’ She stopped abruptly.
Ruby didn’t deserve any of her outbursts, but when Kite spoke to her like this it felt as if she had no idea how grown up her daughter had become.
The doorbell rang – a single, hesitant ring.
Ruby sighed deeply and walked out of the room. She was always being called on by someone, for something. She felt that neighbours should know each other, help each other out, like family. Whenever there was a Fairview block party, it would always be Ruby hosting it, and hanging bunting from the little communal walkways. It had been Ruby’s idea to paint each of the front doors a different 1930s colour, in keeping with the period of the building, with its large leaded windows and simple red brick. People walking along the street below would look up and admire or frown at the acid-green, the creamy orange, light turquoise and salmon-pink doors. Dawn’s door (it would always be Dawn’s door to Kite) was salmon pink and looked especially lovely this summer with Hazel’s planting of delicate sweet peas. Kite often used to think how much each door suited its inhabitants. Her own was of the brightest orange with a large blue glazed pot at the entrance, like a Caribbean sky. Out of the pot grew long-necked birds of paradise with their magnificent orange and purple crests. As Ruby never tired of telling her, Kite had been born in this flat, and so it had always been home for her. Now that had been spoilt too. Kite wondered if she would ever be able to rid her mind of the vile image of her friend lying alone as she stood outside her door and knocked and knocked.
Kite Spirit Page 5