Chapter Fourteen
Mum passes me a bottle of water and closes the car door. ‘You have to see a doctor. No arguments.’
Before I can object, Meg speaks up from the back seat. ‘That’s probably a good idea.’
Traitor.
‘I just fainted.’
Mum’s voice is low. ‘Twice in one week.’
At least three times, actually.
‘It’s no big deal.’
Mum’s eyes flash to Meg and Cormac in the back. She hates being angry in front of other people. ‘Healthy people don’t faint, Michael. Thanks for calling me, Cormac.’
‘No problem.’ He offers a smile.
I fold my arms. My cheeks are hot. I’m glad Paul had to go to meet Ellen. I don’t need him seeing this.
My phone buzzes. A message from Meg.
Say yes. It’s not like the doctor will
have a test for magical abilities
I push my phone back in my pocket.
‘OK.’
Mum blinks. ‘OK?’
‘Yeah, I’ll see a doctor.’
She relaxes. ‘Good. Thank you. I know you don’t like going, but you have to take care of yourself.’
‘I know, sorry for worrying you.’
She pats my hand and I sink back into my seat. I shiver as a wave of nervous energy zigzags down my back. I’m trying very hard to not think about the woman, but that’s proving impossible. I’m pretty sure I’m deeply, irrevocably traumatised by what I experienced.
I turn in hope to my rational self. I saw that woman in a photo. I had a dream about her. Then a daydream. That’s all.
Except it wasn’t a daydream. I somehow recovered a memory of seeing a vision of the Titanic.
Oh, and I was potentially able to telepathically convey what I saw to Meg.
Then a black feather transported me to a plane of reality in which a banshee – what else could it be? – told me to remember what I was.
I can’t rationalise it.
Meg said someone was behind the visions. I think we’ve worked out who that is.
I shiver again.
‘You all right?’
I smile at Mum. ‘Yeah.’
‘Someone walked over your grave.’ She turns the car, not seeing my look of horror.
I text Meg.
We need to develop the photos
Agreed
‘Can you drop us at Meg’s, please? We’re going to start working on our project.’
Mum frowns. ‘Michael, no. You’re not well, and anyway Sheila’s getting chips in to celebrate Cormac’s job. Well done again, love.’
‘Cheers, Aoife.’
‘We can develop the photos tomorrow,’ says Meg.
Mum nods. ‘How’s the project going?’
My cheeks burn as I try to think of a good lie.
Meg clears her throat. ‘It’s proving interesting. A real journey of historical discovery.’
‘Great stuff.’ Mum beams. ‘I look forward to hearing all about it. Do you study history, Meg?’
Mum practically hyperventilates with joy when Meg says she’s doing it for A level. They launch into a chat about the syllabus. Meg is interested in Irish history, but worried about having to study too much about America.
Mum stops at a shop to get some drinks for Sheila and Cormac goes in with her. I turn round to face Meg. ‘Mum is obsessed with you.’
Meg smiles sweetly. ‘Adults love me.’
‘Yeah, whatever.’
‘Are you annoyed we called her? We were worried about you.’
I sniff. ‘I mean, she’ll not let me out of her sight now, but you probably did the right thing.’ I check that Mum and Cormac are still in the shop. ‘This is insane, right?’
‘Just a bit,’ says Meg. ‘I’m gutted you didn’t get a photo of the Titanic.’
‘The vision was enough for me. Well, for the both of us.’
Meg nods. ‘It’s weird that you didn’t take one at the time though. Right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Didn’t you have your camera with you?’
‘Yeah, I’d gone out to take some photos on the deck.’
‘But you didn’t take any?’
I close my eyes and try to remember. I had the camera in my hand, I think. ‘Maybe, but that’s the camera and memory card that were destroyed.’
Meg stares out of the window.
‘What is it?’
She says nothing for a bit too long then turns back. ‘Doesn’t matter. OK, so any photos you might’ve taken are gone. Then how did you remember?’
I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I heard the seagull, then the camera flashed and—’
‘And it all came back. That hasn’t happened before, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘So, what if you can re-trigger the things you’ve forgotten?’
My brain hurts. ‘How would I know if I’ve forgotten them?’
Meg sighs. ‘Well, think about it. When and where did you also have a blackout?’
My stomach squirms. ‘Nan’s garden.’
‘I know you don’t want to think about why your dad kept this a secret from her. But what if you saw something there? Something important that you’ve forgotten.’ She chews her lip. ‘We have to find out what happened.’
I don’t like this. Frustration tightens like a band across my head. Meg seems determined not to trust my nan. Even if Dad was keeping something from her, that doesn’t mean she’s done anything wrong. He was full of secrets.
‘Maybe, but can you leave it with my nan.’
Meg breathes out. ‘OK. Sorry.’ She glances out of the window. ‘They’re coming back. You still coming to Paul’s tonight?’
I shrug. ‘Probably.’
The people pleaser in me wants to shift this mood and pretend I’m not a bit pissed at Meg for going on about my nan, but I’m tired and I’ve had a few spats with her today. So I leave her to talk to Mum until we drop her off and head home.
We get back to find Nanny Bet there, sitting with Sheila at the dining table, sipping a coffee. My neck sweats and I tighten my grip on my backpack. The pinhole camera inside seems to double in weight.
‘Look who’s here,’ says Sheila, her eyebrows raised.
‘Bet, how’re you?’ Mum says.
Nanny Bet stares at me as she answers. ‘I was calling down just to say hello, and Sheila told me Michael was unwell.’
Sheila mouths an apology and takes the shopping bags into the kitchen.
‘What happened?’ says Nanny Bet.
I wipe the sweat from my neck as I bend to give her a kiss. ‘Oh, I fainted again, but honestly I feel fine now.’
She frowns and rests the back of her hand on my forehead. ‘How many times is that?’
‘Just twice,’ I say quickly. ‘I’m going to go see a doctor, but I’m sure it’s nothing. Right, Mum?’
‘Yes, hopefully nothing serious.’
‘I’m sure it’s just the adjustment. I’d better get on. Aoife, could you put my cup in the kitchen for me, please?’
Mum takes it, leaving me alone with Nanny Bet. She stands up and folds her arms.
‘Right,’ she says. ‘What’s really going on?’
I swallow. ‘Nothing, I promise. I just fainted.’
Her head cocks to the side and she reminds me of Meg for a second. ‘Michael, my love.’ She smiles thinly. ‘You can’t bullshit a bullshitter. There’s something you’re not telling me.’
‘I…’ She raises her eyebrows, daring me to lie. But I can’t do it. ‘I can’t say.’
She leans in. ‘You can tell me anything.’
‘I know.’
‘What’s going on?’ She places her hand on my arm, gripping it slightly. ‘You can trust me.’
I want to tell her, but then I think of Dad as a teenager hiding the camera and his notebook from her. I hear Meg’s doubts. I trust my nan more than anyone in the world, but I can’t tell her this and I hate myself for it. ‘Sorry. It’s private.’
I can’t bring myself to look at her until Mum walks back in. I steel myself for the hurt I’m going to see on Nanny Bet’s face, but instead there’s a tremor in her lips.
What’s going on?
‘Sure you won’t stay for supper, Bet?’ calls Sheila from the kitchen. ‘We’re having a chippy for Cormac.’
‘No thanks, Sheila.’ Nanny Bet pats down her white linen shirt. ‘I’ve got things to be getting on with. Tell Cormac I’ll be expecting some top-class coffee when I visit.’
Right on cue, Cormac swings into the living room with Fiona behind him. ‘Oh, will Madam Bet be sitting at her usual table?’
Nanny Bet chuckles. ‘Why, of course. But I don’t expect any special treatment because I used to change your nappy.’
Cormac bows. ‘I owe you a debt of honour for that service. I have it on good authority that my nappies could’ve been used in chemical warfare.’
She laughs. ‘Congratulations on the job, son!’ She squeezes his arm on her way past. ‘Bye, all.’
My chest hurts as I call after her. ‘Bye, Nan.’
She gives me a quick nod before leaving.
I’m not sure how much more guilt I can take today. I do my best to channel Cormac’s energy and pull out my biggest smile. ‘So, shall we get this party started?’
‘Oh my God, you’re such a dork,’ says Fiona.
I blush, but it does the trick. The tension is broken and we get the chippy ordered.
Tommy brings back a big Toblerone for Cormac and pats him on the back. The tips of Cormac’s ears go pink.
‘What are you going to buy me with all that moola?’ asks Fiona, dunking a chip into the sea of gravy on her plate.
Cormac strokes an invisible beard. ‘Hmm, I’d say probably a Netflix subscription. I’m worried about all this reading you’re doing.’
Tommy ruffles her hair. ‘My wee brainbox, aren’t ya?’
Fiona smiles proudly and, if I was being rude and she wasn’t nine years old, I’d say ‘smugly’.
‘Just like her aunt Aoife,’ says Sheila. ‘Maybe we’ll have another professor in the family, eh, Fiona?’
Fiona screws up her face. ‘No, thanks. When I grow up I’m going to be an investigative reporter.’
Figures.
‘How do you even know those words?’ says Cormac.
She sticks out her tongue. ‘Because I read books instead of looking at boobs on the internet.’
‘Fiona!’ Sheila shoots her a glare and she goes back to her book.
‘This is a madhouse,’ grumbles Tommy as he spikes a chip. ‘How were the docks, Michaél?’
‘Yeah, had a look about. Took some photos with Meg.’
Encountered a potentially malevolent spirit that haunts my dreams.
‘Who’s Meg?’ Tommy asks.
‘Friend.’
‘Oh aye?’ He wiggles his eyebrows and I can see Cormac grinning.
‘Oh, here,’ says Sheila. ‘Is that the wee goth girl, Cormac?’
‘Aye.’
‘Ack, she’s lovely.’
‘She is,’ says Mum.
‘She your girlfriend?’ says Tommy.
Fiona lowers the book, hungry for gossip.
Mum is dissecting a chip on her plate, Sheila is smiling and Tommy’s eyes are boring into me like a heteronormative power drill. I turn to Cormac, begging him to come to my rescue.
He clears his throat. ‘Well, actually, Michael isn’t her type.’
OK.
‘Because…’
No, Cormac, please.
‘…she’s queer.’