Chapter Five
The smell of smoke.
A crow caws.
I blink my eyes open.
I’m slumped on the garden chair at an awkward angle. Nanny Bet is standing over me holding a cup. ‘Michael, you OK?’
I don’t know.
‘I think so.’ I blink again. ‘What happened?’
She places a warm hand on my arm and I shiver. She frowns. ‘I don’t know. You called out something.’
I take a deep breath and cough.
‘I smell smoke.’
Her frown deepens. ‘Michael, love, there’s no smoke.’
‘I saw…’
She crouches beside me. ‘What?’
A loud caw pulls my attention to the fence. A crow pecks at the post it sits on, one eye trained on me.
‘I think I saw something.’
She follows my gaze. ‘There’s nothing there. Should I call your mummy?’
‘No.’ I force a smile. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’
‘You’re a bit pale,’ she says, setting the cup down on the table.
I push myself to my feet and then I gasp.
My camera lies on the path, smashed to pieces.
‘My camera.’
‘Oh, love. What happened?’
I stoop to pick it up. The whole back is missing.
‘I dropped it.’
I try turning it on but it flickers and cuts out. My throat aches.
‘It’s OK,’ she says. ‘We can get you a new one.’
I run my finger over one of the cracks. ‘Dad bought me this. It’s the last thing…’
‘Ah, love. I’m sorry.’ She hugs me from behind. ‘Why don’t you sit down and take your tea? I’ll go clear this away.’ I pass her what’s left of my camera and she heads back to the house.
As I wait for her to return, I feel the panic rising. This is the second time in two days. On the ferry, the same thing. I blacked out with no memory.
No, that’s not right, I did see something on the ferry. Right, of course it was the…
It was…
There was something.
I close my eyes and strain to piece it together. I catch a flash of the ferry. A bright light.
Then blackness.
Why can’t I remember?
Something is very, very wrong with me.
Nanny Bet offers to make me some lunch, but I’m not hungry. She seems unsettled after the fainting, watching me like I might break. Mum watches me like that too and I can’t stand it. As if I’m fragile. Or worse, like I’m already cracked or broken and could fall apart at any moment.
Is that what this is? Am I blacking out because of some mental-health issue?
‘What’s on your mind?’ asks Nanny Bet, stroking Fergal on her knee.
Tell her.
I take a breath. ‘I had a blackout on the ferry too.’ I stare down at my feet. ‘Do you think there’s something wrong with me?’
The cat leaps from her as she reaches over and hugs me. ‘There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing at all. You hear me?’
‘But the blackouts…’
She shakes her head as she releases me. ‘If you have them again, you tell me. We can work it out together. OK?’
I nod and stand up. ‘I’m going into town with Cormac and some friends, but I’ll come back tomorrow, yeah?’
Her eyebrows furrow. ‘I have some things to do. But yes, call me tomorrow.’ She places her hand on my wrist. ‘And tell me if anything else happens. Promise?’
‘Promise.’
She hugs me again. ‘Be careful in that town. Don’t be going into any areas you don’t know. There’s a shower of bigoted shitheads out there at the minute.’ This gets a laugh and she seems pleased. ‘I love you, Michael. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, of course. Love you too.’ I give her a kiss on the cheek.
As I step away, there’s a prickle of heat at the back of my neck. I turn and look at the back of the garden fence and all of Belfast beyond. Something itches at the back of my mind.
The crow is still tapping its beak on the fence post.
‘Michael…?’ Nanny Bet rubs my arm.
I smile. ‘Sorry, just love the view. Thanks for today.’ I step over Fergal and leave.
I’m not ready to meet the others so I wander through the estate.
I try to picture Dad growing up here, and his absence gnaws at me. Not the man he became, but the Dad I remember from when I was younger. When he was happy.
The drinking got bad about four years ago and then he started missing jobs.
His mood swings were fierce. He never got angry, that I saw, but he was cold.
The Dad that hugged me and laughed at my jokes became distant.
He and Mum kept me out of their fights, which I know on some level was out of love but all it really did was keep me out of their lives.
We lived in a forced niceness for a while.
Dad would go on shoots for a few days at a time, but we’d never see the photos.
Mum dealt with it by overcompensating, showering me with affection then discreetly wiping at tears as we chopped veg for dinner.
But whenever I asked what was going on, the answer was always the same. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
The last year was really bad.
Dad sold his car. He wasn’t working but would disappear for days.
No matter how loud I turned up the music on my headphones, I couldn’t drown out the arguments about the mortgage and the bills.
I’d do what I could to help round the house.
I stopped asking for pocket money and said no to school trips and days out with friends.
I thought if I could make things a little easier, it might be OK.
Then one day, Dad left for good.
I came home from school and Mum was sitting on the sofa, hands clasped together. ‘He’s gone this time.’
‘Where?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he can’t be here any more.’
‘When’ll he be back?’
She started crying then and something in me broke. I hugged her and made her tea. I tried to ask about what happened, but she only cried again. We existed like that for a few months. I’d try to find out where my dad was and Mum would fall apart.
Since then, I’ve texted Dad once a week. He’s never replied.
I lean against a wall and take out my phone. I scroll down.
We’re in Belfast now. I hope you
are well. Love M x
As always, I wait a few seconds to see if he’s seen it.
Nothing.
I slump against the wall. There’s a familiar numbness in my hands and a heaviness behind my eyes.
I check to see if Ben has replied, but he hasn’t. I consider calling him, but what’s the point? He won’t answer.
He hates you.
Cormac has messaged three times, asking where I am. I want to cancel, but I promised him and Meg and I kind of need a distraction.
And that distraction is called Paul.