Chapter Sixteen #2
She sets down her tea and lays out the photos in front of us. ‘Right, let’s work these out.’
I consider the five photos of a potential goddess (of death) appearing in images of the past, that I can see in the present. I’d much rather be thinking of a flirty reply to Paul.
I press delete on the mental image of his smile and focus on the pictures.
My gaze rests on the baby. ‘I wish I knew who she was.’
Meg sighs and puts her hand to where her acorn necklace used to rest. ‘Yeah, what could she have become?’
‘She must’ve been special.’
Meg touches the photo.
An idea stirs. ‘No, think about it,’ I say. ‘She really must’ve been special. You said that the Morrigan don’t comfort people or bring them to the underworld or whatever, right?’
‘I think so. There’s a lot we don’t know about them.’
‘Yes, but assuming that they don’t do that, then why is a goddess of death with a baby? She must have been significant.’
Her face is different from the twisted fury and rage in the other pictures. She’s weeping, almost like…
‘She knows that baby.’
‘What?’ says Meg.
‘Look at her. She’s surrounded by death in the Blitz photo, but is raging at the skies. She’s not looking at any of the dead people around her. But here she’s mourning that child. She knows her.’ A wave of emotion hits my stomach as I see it. ‘She’s grieving. Is that even possible?’
Meg is lost in thought as she touches the edge of the grainy photos. Then her eyes light up. ‘Macha.’
I recall the unfamiliar Irish word. One of the aspects of the Morrigan. ‘What about her?’
‘She was mortal… No, that’s not right… The Morrigan lived as a mortal called Macha.
Like, among us. She was married, she lost her children and then died when forced to race against the king’s horses.
Though not before cursing all the men of Ulster to experience the pain of childbirth when they needed to fight, for, like, nine generations. ’
‘Wow.’
‘Yeah, she’s pretty amazing.’ Meg grins. ‘Imagine if it was her.’
‘So, was she human?’
‘No, definitely a goddess, but she lived as one. She was a mother.’
I lift the photo. ‘Could the baby be the Morrigan’s daughter?’
‘Possibly, but wouldn’t she be holding her or trying to help her?’
‘She’s important, though, that baby,’ I say.
Meg nods and picks up the photo of the young girl on the street. ‘So is this one. Like you said, we need to work out who she is and what the Morrigan is doing here.’
The goddess in this photo is angry, raging as she gazes into the lens. Her mouth is open, like she’s speaking.
‘Why is she looking at me? Am I taking photos of her in the past or…’
‘Or was she there in the present moment, but you can only see her in the photos?’
My neck prickles and I check over my shoulder. I remember her in my dream. Arms reaching out, speaking to me. ‘She’s here. She wants me to know something.’
‘We’ll work it out.’ Meg picks up the photo of Granda Frank’s funeral. ‘It definitely looks like she’s reaching out to your dad here.’
‘He was just a child though. What could she want with him?’
‘Same thing she wants with you,’ says Meg. ‘And also…’ She turns away.
‘What?’
‘Why me? Have I got something to do with this too? How did you connect with me like that at the docks?’
I rest a hand on hers. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, I love it. It’s amazing. I just wish I could see what you see.’
‘No, you don’t. Trust me.’
She frowns for a second then picks up the last photo. Nan’s house. ‘Why this one? It doesn’t look any different to what was happening at the actual time, right?’
‘Nope, I saw literally nothing in that vision. That green car wasn’t there in reality, but that’s about it.’
Meg shakes her head. ‘The Morrigan wouldn’t show you this for no reason. There must be something here. Really look.’
I search the image. The house is normal. Meg is leaving through the front door with Nanny Bet behind her. In the living room window, she appears again. ‘My nan’s there in the vision too.’ I point. ‘Though there’s nothing weird about that. It’s her house.’
Everything else is the same. My eyes linger on a second crow above the house. I’d not noticed it before, but then I hadn’t known it could be an animal version of a goddesses.
The bird is flapping in mid-air. Flying over the—
‘The back garden. The crow.’
‘What about it?’ Meg leans in.
‘The missing vision.’
Meg’s mouth drops open. ‘Shit! She wants you to go back. There’s something you need to see.’
I’ve been avoiding this for long enough.
‘Let’s go see what I forgot.’
The outside of Nanny Bet’s house is just as it is in the photo, minus the green car.
I open the gate and head up the path to the front door.
‘What are you doing?’ Meg hisses.
My hand pauses mid-air as I’m about to knock. ‘Checking if she’s in.’
‘And then what? We ask if we can go check for visions?’
‘I can’t just sneak into her garden! What if someone thinks we’re burglars?’
Meg looks me up and down. ‘Yeah, you scream criminal mastermind. Listen, your dad didn’t want her to know about the visions, his power, right?’
‘We don’t know that.’
‘Well, while it’s a possibility, I think you should try to keep her out of it.’
I’m getting tired of Meg being so off about my nan. I’m about to say so when a burst of pain explodes in the back of my head.
Meg grips my arm. ‘Where is it?’
I can’t see any light yet, but I have a good idea where it’s coming from. I race round the side of the house, through the gate and into the back garden.
I stop dead. The entire garden is lit up as if I’ve stepped onto a film set.
‘What can you see?’ Meg’s voice sounds distant, like I’m underwater.
There’s a movement at the back of the garden and I catch my breath. There’s a soldier crouched by the fence, a rifle in his hand.
‘It’s a soldier.’
A memory stirs. Then I see him. A young boy, shouting.
‘I’ve seen this before.’
‘What is it?’
I drop my bag and step towards the boy. I cough at the overpowering smell of blood, smoke, earth and sweat. My limbs are heavy, like I’m walking through mud. The air shimmers. He’s angry. Screaming at the soldier. I can’t make out the words. It’s like tuning an old-fashioned radio.
‘…gone…hate you…’
I’m beside the boy now. He’s screaming. Pointing at the soldier.
‘Dad?’
I gasp as a hand lands on my shoulder.
‘Michael.’ Meg tries to give me the camera.
I push it away. I want to hear Dad. The visions have never been this vivid before. It’s like I’m actually there.
I step closer and his words take shape. His face is twisted in rage.
‘MURDERER!’
‘You need to take a photo,’ cries Meg.
I want to hold Dad. I feel like I’m more in the world of the vision than the real one and I don’t want to leave him. Even this past version of him is better than nothing.
‘You don’t want to forget this.’
Meg’s right.
I take the pinhole camera and step back to be sure I get Dad and the soldier in shot. The light is fading.
The soldier is saying something back, his eyes softening.
A voice comes from behind me. ‘What’s going on?’
The soldier looks behind me. As Dad turns round, his face is red, his chin trembling.
I follow their gaze and Nanny Bet is standing there, both in the past and the present. Younger her has long dark hair and her eyes are wide with fear. She speaks, but it’s just a jumble of sounds as the vision fades.
My Nanny Bet is standing beside her. Older, but with just as much fear written on her face.
Her mouth is pressed in a thin, hard line.
The light fades away.
A crow calls.
Nanny Bet takes a step towards me.
‘You can see them, can’t you?’