by Rhian Ivory
‘I think we thought that it was a one off, that the first time this happened was a fluke. To be honest, Noah, I couldn’t really deal with it, not on top of Grace, too.’ Dad’s voice cuts out like a power cable pulled out. Mum takes over, clutching his hand in hers. They look nervous. My stomach rolls as I wait for the tide to turn, for their voices to go cold and hard now that her name is out there, hovering in the middle of the room like something about to detonate.
‘We weren’t able to think about what happened to you; we were both trying to deal with grief and loss and looking back, not dealing with it very well. I couldn’t put the two things together because that would have made it all the worse, but this isn’t going away and you’re all we’ve got left, Noah. We loved Grace very much, so much … we love both of you so much and all we want … I just want you to be happy, love, happy and safe. We’re going to keep you safe and help you to come to terms with this … with your gift.’ I expected her to say curse not gift.
She offers the word to me like a present and holds her hand out to me. I take it.
Dad says, ‘It’s all about finding out, learning and working out a plan now, OK, mate? We’re going to find out how to help you. We’re in this together. We might not get it right, in fact, so far we’ve got a lot of it wrong, but we’ll try again. We’ll keep trying till we get it right.’ He is in problem-solver mode. I wonder if he’ll try and take my other hand and am a bit relieved when he doesn’t. But I notice he doesn’t say ‘gift’. He wants to fix things, but at least he has realised there is something left to fix. At least he doesn’t think I am completely broken.
‘We’re not saying things are going to all work out straight away and that this will be easy, because it won’t. But between the three of us we’ll find a way, love. And don’t forget, you saved her, Noah. You saved Beth and I’m really very proud of you.’ Mum is standing in front of me now, pulling me up by my hands, not even wiping her tears away. I get up awkwardly and let her hug me. I rest my chin on her head and wrap my arms around her as she sniffs into my chest. And then Dad comes and stands behind me and holds us all. I can’t see or breathe with my head buried somewhere underneath one of his arms, but I don’t care. I listen to his heart beating steady and solid. I feel safe, for now anyway.
CHAPTER 38
THE HEDINGHAM HERALD
The Witchcraft case of Sible Hedingham reaches its dramatic conclusion
Thomas Garland, a Farrier from Sible Hedingham, was summoned last week to speak against Emilia Rawlinson and Henry Hall for assaulting Blaze Ambroise, a boy between 14 or 15, also of Sible Hedingham. Complainant said, ‘I heard a crowd of men led by Henry Hall coming up from the river. They were chasing a boy across the bridge and up into the high street making much noise and bother and threats. I did hear them chant “witch” over and over. The boy ran past my cottage and so I took him in. I took him in to my cottage and gave him food and drink. He was in fear of his life and couldn’t speak, he was bruised and beaten. His clothes were wet and he had ropes around his wrists, as if he had been bound. I told the authorities what I’d seen and where he was. They came to my cottage and took him over to the Guardians. I had hoped they’d put him in the hospital first but they took him off to the infirmary at the Workhouse.’
Sentencing – Emilia Rawlinson and Henry Hall were charged with a criminal assault on Blaze Ambroise. Both Rawlinson and Hall were charged by the Superintendent before the magistrates at Castle Hedingham with having ‘unlawfully assaulted a young boy known commonly as Blaze, with the intent of causing his death.’ Some sensation has been excited by the near death of this little known foreigner, his case attracted much interest and the small courtroom at Castle Hedingham was packed.
A woman known as Jennifer White came forward during this time and said, ‘I gave him the ring. The emerald was from me, it was my engagement ring. It never belonged to Emilia Rawlinson. She took it from him, she’s the thief.’ This stunning admission silenced the courtroom as Rawlinson was questioned and forced to admit her own deceit and theft with Hall as her accomplice.
Rawlinson and Hall were officially charged yesterday with attempt on the boy’s life and the death of his dog whose body was found to be poisoned with arsenic. They were both tried at Chelmsford Assizes where they were found guilty, receiving six months hard labour. Neither Hall nor Rawlinson will be allowed to return to The Swan Inn, nor work or reside in the village of Sible Hedingham again.
ADDITION – Blaze Ambroise believed to be aged 14 or 15 was taken to Halstead Workhouse but disappeared from the same some days later. Records show that his mother, a Céline Ambroise died at Halstead Workhouse some two years ago.
The boy known as Blaze was in the habit of offering remedies and other potions to the sick in the village. The foreigner, possibly French, had no fixed abode but was said to live in a gardener’s hut in the grounds of the still vacant Hedingham Manor. No reports of sightings of a Blaze Ambroise have been received at this time. No information is forthcoming about his whereabouts since he was reported missing from Halstead Workhouse.
More details regarding the probate case of the Manor House to follow.
Announcement – Death
Alfred Stoke (Alfie), shipman late of Sible Hedingham parish. Died setting out to sea during the Great Earthquake at Colchester, two other men were killed along with Stoke, the only survivor being Daniel White. The Stoke family and Alfred’s fiancée Jennifer White and brother Daniel White ask for flowers to be left in the vestry at St Peter’s.
Daniel White (Dan) has since returned to sea, setting sail for France and no longer resides in Sible Hedingham.
Announcement – Marriage
Married at St Peter’s church, Mary Wright, daughter of Eli Wright, Baker to Jacob Hill, and son of Benedict Hill, Blacksmith, both of Sible Hedingham.
Announcement – Birth
Thomas and Aileen Garland announce the happy arrival of a second child. The much longed for child; a son, Thomas was born to the couple at the healthy weight of 7lbs 2oz. Mother, Father and sister Caitlin give thanks for gifts of clothing and other items.
CHAPTER 39
NOAH
Beth’s mum has set up a bed in the lounge, in front of the TV and the DVD player. Edward Scissorhands is playing. I pick up her copy of Great Expectations off the chair next to the sofa bed and sit down. Her mum says something about cups of tea and leaves us alone.
‘You finally finished it then?’ I ask, holding the worn and weary copy up to her.
‘Yes. Pip forgives Estella. They walk off hand in hand into the sunset. Happily ever after?’ she asks, another question hidden in the layers of this one.
‘Yes, hand in hand. “He sees no shadow of another parting from her in their future.” No more parting.’ I offer my answer to her silent question, hoping it’s the right one.
‘It might be a while before I can walk off into any sunset but I can definitely hold your hand.’ She smiles at me, poking her leg out of the bed. It is wrapped in a cast with some netting peeking out near her toes. I reach out my hand to cover them, they look cold. They’ve been painted a bright purple which suits her better than the dead blue colour. I don’t know what to say, so keep looking around the room, half-heartedly watching the film, rubbing her toes.
‘I never got the chance to say thank you,’ she whispers, her eyes still on the screen watching Edward rest his chin on Kim’s head as they hold one another, Edward taking great care not to hurt Kim.
‘You don’t have to thank me. I fell on you like a total idiot making things ten times worse. I probably broke your leg,’ I reply, wishing things could just go back to normal.
‘You saved me.’ She begins taking my hand in hers. ‘I thought I was going to drown, Noah.’ She’s determined to have her way and paint me as a hero.
The word cuts into me, I pull my hand out of hers.
‘But I was there, you didn’t … drown.’ I choke on the word. I need to stop her. The music from the film is still
building, violins and something twinkling like a child’s merry-go-round. I want to turn it off, to silence it.
‘Did they tell you what happened, Beth? It was just the water pipes; they got blocked by something and Mr Bourne said the pressure built up and it burst through the door and into the tunnel. Theo and Harley were messing around with the water pump, they probably broke it and left it running. Mr Bourne said something about flash floods all over the place too so…’ I speak loud and clear, wanting her to think it was just one of those things like a random event or a natural disaster.
‘Yep, he came to see Mum and Dad, who, by the way, think you are the best thing ever. They’ve been going on and on about you, said you saved my life. Mum said you are a hero. I know! I know!’ She wrinkles her face up.
‘Well, that’s a first, a girl’s parents actually liking her boyfriend.’ I test out the word, feeling awkward. This time I pick up her hand.
‘Yep. Must be a first. An all-time record. First time for everything … like you said.’ She pulls me towards her, down to her lips. All thoughts about bones and bodies and corpse tunnels leave my mind for the first time in days as we kiss.
‘They want to give you something, Mum and Dad, or show you their thanks. I think they’re going to invite you and your parents round for Sunday lunch or something like that. My mum’s been on the phone to your mum.’
Beth moves away from me to read my face. I feel the heat in my skin, burning. I don’t care about Sunday lunch, I want to carry on kissing.
‘Oh, they don’t need to do that, tell them not to worry.’ I lean back in to kiss her again.
‘Not to bother? What? Well, I want you to come. I want to show you what you mean to me, what you did for me. I could have died, Noah. I keep having nightmares about it, about being trapped under the water, about gasping for air, they’re horrible. I keep seeing bones and bodies floating by me in the water, hands reaching out to me with long fingernails trying to pull me down the steps under with them, trying to drown me.’
I can see where she’s heading, but I have to stop her. I am not her hero. Heroes don’t get stuff wrong. Heroes don’t take too long to work stuff out. Heroes don’t make stupid, stupid mistakes.
‘Beth, just stop! Just stop for a minute … please?’ I hear the wobble in my voice as I stand up and move away from her.
She pushes herself up in bed and stares across the room at me, annoyed.
‘You wouldn’t have drowned, please stop staying that, just stop saying that … word!’ I can’t keep the volume out of my voice. I am walking around the room, back and forth, not sure how I am going to explain. How am I going to show her how little she really knows about her hero?
‘We used to live in a town called Buckingham. I was born there. It was nice and we had a lovely house with a long garden, a bit like yours actually but thinner. I used to spend all my time out there, in the sandpit and the paddling pool. We had a long cobbled path that wound around the garden and ended in a circle where all our stuff was, you know a slide, sandpit, a swing for two like a seesaw thing and the pool. I’d been running and tripped over on the cobbles. Mum told me off all the time about running on the path but I never listened. Dad kept saying he was going to replace it with a patio or gravel but he never did. I remember flying up into the air like I had wings, like I was a bird and it was really exciting, thrilling, for a second. Then I fell down and sent her crashing into the water. I landed next to Grace but on the rockery, not in the pool.’
Beth holds her hand up, as if we’re in class, to ask me a question. I knew it was coming.
‘Who’s Grace?’
No. I can’t say it yet. I have to keep going or I’ll never get it all out.
‘It was silent and so fast, too quick for me to scream or raise the alarm. I think I was winded cos I couldn’t call for Mum or Dad. The pool was shallow but she must have banged her head because she didn’t lift it out of the water. I remember I thought about pulling her long hair to raise her up out of the paddling pool. She looked like a mermaid. Noises kept coming in and out of my ears and my hands were asleep, sharp with pins and needles. I lay on my side like I was in an upside-down world with everything spinning. Speckles of light were in my eyes, I rubbed at them with my sun-creamed hand and I remember how much it stung. That’s what I was thinking about! I was thinking about how much my bloody eyes stung!’ I am so angry with myself, after all this time. I could live for a thousand years and never ever forgive myself.
‘I kept my eyes closed.’ I shut my eyes as I speak, remembering how my mother had run towards me, howling my sister’s name ‘Grace’ like a wild animal being torn apart. It was the worst sound she’d ever made.
‘I said nothing. I was standing, rubbing my hands right into my eye sockets. I thought I could block it all out, that I could hide from what I’d drawn the day before. I could run away from the pictures I’d made. I could just run away. I remember standing there, crossing my fingers and wishing that the drawings in my toy box would just fly away!’ I laugh and it’s a nasty sound in the quiet room. I open my eyes but I don’t dare look at Beth. I have to finish, there’s one last bit to tell her. I have to tell her what I am.
I broke my family.
And I lost my sister.
‘I didn’t ever see her again. I’ll never see her again. They took my sister away in an ambulance with my parents. They left a neighbour to watch me. Even though it was too late, they still took Grace to the hospital with the sirens on and the lights flashing blue. And then the storm broke, rain falling in my face almost sideways so I couldn’t see the lights anymore and then they were gone.’ I pause, remembering the crack of thunder, smelling the sharp rain, that tangy smell that’s like nothing else, the lightning in the sky, an almost alien line of light across the navy blue skyline, leaving its mark.
‘She’ll always be three now, Grace. She’s stuck at three and I can’t even remember what she looked like. I have to sneak into Mum’s room and look at photos of her. I can’t hear her voice or her giggle, I can’t remember what songs she liked me to sing, or what her favourite TV programme was, or if she preferred strawberry or vanilla ice cream, it’s just all gone, washed away for ever.’
I sit back down on the sofa opposite her. I can’t be near her. I can’t be near anyone.
I thought I’d feel better. I thought I’d feel lighter, more honest. But I just feel empty, like all the words have gushed out of my mouth, which is now hanging open.
‘Come here. Noah … I can’t come to you, so you’ll have to come to me. Come here, please?’ Her voice is crackly and when I look up there are tears tracks on her cheeks. She holds her arms out to me.
I go to her. I fold myself carefully into her arms, taking care not to squash her or break any other part of her. She winds her arms around my back and pats me like I am a child who has fallen over. She speaks quietly to me, whispering in my ear.
‘You couldn’t save her, Noah. You couldn’t have stopped it or understood it even, you were too little. Drawings couldn’t have made any sense to you then. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have saved … Grace. But you did save me. You got it this time.’ She sounds triumphant at the end, as if she’s just worked it all out for herself.
‘But I broke your leg. I hurt you. I hurt you as well!’ I stutter.
‘No you didn’t. The doctor said I broke it when I slipped on the steps, before you fell. You’re not an actual giant, you know, you couldn’t have broken my bones! You’d never hurt me, I know that even if you don’t trust it yourself. I know you.’ She wipes my eyes with her fingertips. I didn’t even realise I was crying.
‘Listen to me. You knew what would happen to me, didn’t you? You drew it, you made sense of it, even if you didn’t quite get it at the time. You knew as it happened. And then you stopped it happening. Yes, you did, you did. And you can do it again. That’s what this means. You can do it again.’
I listen to her repeat herself, saying the same thing over and over as
she rubs my back.
I saved her and who knows maybe I saved Eva’s brother too? Maybe I am finally starting to make sense of this, or parts of it, anyway. Like a tessellation, there’s a pattern to my drawings emerging. I’ve been able to see it all the time, but I’m only just starting to understand it. Maybe, if I look hard enough next time – really hard – a picture will develop.
EPILOGUE
Noah whistles softly to his dog who pads along the river path next to him. He hears the return call of a nightingale with its high, fast notes. The bird spreads out its wings and lifts upwards leaving the ground like heat rising.
Noah and his dog watch the bird hover over the river looking down at the slow moving water and then he sees it. The hand is right at the centre, fingers pushed together, palm upright. It is just where he knew it would be, waiting in the same place, warning him to stop. The river moves ever on around it as his breath catches in his throat.
And he stops. He listens this time. And he stops.
He stops breathing and waits for something to begin or for something to come to an end. The nightingale descends rapidly and the hand reaches out towards the bird as if to catch it, but just at the last moment the nightingale flicks its brown tail, flying away. Noah watches it soar into the clear blue sky, setting free the trapped air in his chest.
He turns back to the river just in time to see the fingers spread wide open before finally disappearing into the dark water. His big black dog barks a warning, an impatient sound and tugs insistently, pulling Noah towards the occupied bench and Beth sitting on it.
Noah walks quickly along the path towards her but he doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t look back, not once, because everything he needs to see is in front of him. His future is right there smiling at him and he knows this because he has drawn it.