The Girl Who Lost Her Shadow
Page 13
Kay stirred in her sleep, her shadow rippling with the movement, and Gail froze. Now that she was back, Gail didn’t know what to say. There was too much to say. Kay twitched and a strand of hair fell across her cheek. Gail tucked it neatly behind her ear. The freckles on her sister’s cheek were like stars. What would Mhirran say? Gail grinned and took a deep breath.
“Did you know that whales can speak across thousands of miles and that storms have pockets and the sea is colder without you?”
Kay opened her eyes and blinked.
“Hi,” Gail said.
“Hi.”
Kay’s eyes were just as she remembered them. Sad and so far away. Gail swallowed. “I’m sor—”
“You found it.” A sudden smile tugged at Kay’s mouth. She pointed at the carpet. “You found it,” she said again and there was the shine of scales in her voice.
Gail’s eyes widened. Kay wasn’t pointing at her own shadow at all. She was pointing to Gail’s. Mhirran was right. Kay’s shadow had been trying to find Gail’s all along. Gail bit her lip and rubbed at her nose. Something wobbled inside her eyes. “We got yours back too. And there’s something I want to show you.” Gail gestured to the window. “I asked my friend to make it for you.”
Kay raised her eyes at ‘friend’ and slowly, carefully, pulled herself out of the bed. Gail took her hand. “Because when you’re sinking,” she said, “you always need something to hold on to.”
She opened the curtain. On the grey side wall of the newsagent next door, Femi had painted their story. He’d painted a huge sunfish, round and glowing, the water around it filled with swirls and jellyfish. He’d painted a limpet, small and determined, and two shadowy storm petrels spinning through the air. He’d painted a mimic octopus pretending to be a sea snake and a leafy seadragon disappearing amongst a ripple of seaweed. He’d painted the two Storm Sisters, sharing one cave-heart between them, Eilidh leaning protectively across Mor. He’d painted a young sperm whale, swimming away towards the horizon, in a blue-grey sea. And, in the middle of the wall, he’d painted a manta ray leaping high over a wildcat, whilst all around them were the quick swirls and eddies of a strong wind, like the wind of change or adventure ‒ like the wind of a gale.
Kay gasped and there, deep deep in her eyes, Gail saw a light gleaming, like the glow from a far-off ship, or a star. As they stood, hand in hand staring at their world, Gail’s shadow stretched dark and silk-grey next to Kay’s, saying
I am here
I am here
I am here.
Acknowledgements
As a child, I used to begin notebooks by writing: This is the story that I will finish. Of course, I never did finish them, so it is with some astonishment and much pride that I find myself at the end of this story. My ten-year-old self would be delighted, and I owe thanks to a great many people for helping me along the way.
Firstly, thank you to my beta readers. Thank you to my younger sister, Martha Ilett, for reading multiple drafts with enthusiasm, and to Caitlyn McHarge, Claire Martin and Quinn Ramsay. Your questions, insight and encouragement were utterly invaluable in propelling me onwards through the early drafts. Thank you also to Carly Brown for the much-needed cake-and-writing chats, and to Ashanti Harris and Nicole Culp for your generous feedback.
Thank you to my editors, Eleanor Collins and Jennie Skinner, the most committed and considerate editors I could hope for. I’ve learned so much from you and you have brought clarity to a sprawling, strange story. Thank you to Leah and the design team for this stunning cover and thank you to everyone at Floris Books; I feel extremely lucky to be supported by such an incredible team.
For their encouragement when I was just beginning to write children’s fiction, I would like to thank my creative writing tutors, Dr Carolyn Jess-Cooke and Dr Eleanor Rees. Thank you to Mairi Hedderwick and Moniack Mhor for the opportunity to meet wonderful writers in a beautiful place, and to Wigtown Book Festival for trusting in me; it was an honour to be Children’s Writer in Residence in 2015.
The research for this book took me to many places, but I’d particularly like to acknowledge contributors to National Geographic, who are responsible for my deep enthusiasm for wobbegongs, leafy seadragons, pinecone fish and many more wonderful and intriguing creatures. What a world there is in the ocean to learn about, and to protect against our misdoings.
Thank you to everyone who asked me how the writing was going; your questions pushed this procrastinator forward. Thank you to Jessy for the laughter, the adventures, and for holding my hand through the tricky bits; thank you to Moa, for your writing and friendship; thank you to Nicole and Farah for your beautiful encouragement; and to Sogol, Ashanti, Romany and Julia: you inspire, challenge and support me in the best way. Thank you to everyone at Glasgow Women’s Library, I feel so lucky to be surrounded by so many incredible women.
Finally, thank you to my mum and dad for nurturing within me a love of words and stories from such a young age. Thank you to my sisters, Hannah and Martha, for always being there for me. And to all my family, I’m so grateful for your support and excitement for my writing.
And thank you, reader, for swimming alongside Gail.
About the Author
Emily Ilett studied at the Glasgow School of Art and the University of Glasgow. She was awarded the Mairi Hedderwick Writing for Children Bursary from Moniack Mhor in 2015, and was Children’s Writer in Residence at Wigtown Book Festival the same year. The Girl Who Lost Her Shadow, her first novel, won the Kelpies Prize for new Scottish children’s writing in 2017.
Copyright
Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books
First published in 2019 by Floris Books
First published in North America in 2020
© 2019 Emily Ilett
This eBook edition published in 2019
Emily Ilett has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the Author of this Work
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the prior permission of Floris Books, Edinburgh.
www.florisbooks.co.uk
British Library CIP data available
ISBN 978–178250–621–8