Skellig

Chapter 46

SHE CAME HOME ON A SUNDAY. A beautiful bright warm day. It was really spring at last. Dad went off in the car and I stayed behind to finish cleaning the kitchen up. I wrapped last night’s take-out containers in newspaper and threw them in the bin. I put the kettle on for Mum. I got a can of beer and a glass ready for Dad.

I went upstairs and slipped the baby’s feather under her mattress. I smiled, because I knew she’d have the best of dreams.

I waited, looking out into the empty space left by Mr. Batley and his sons. Even the cracked concrete floor was gone now. There was a wooden fence instead of the back wall. I imagined the garden, filled it with all the shrubs and flowers and the grass that would soon be growing where the ragged yard had been.

I trembled when I heard the car. I couldn’t move. Then I took deep breaths, and thought of Skellig and went to open the front door. Dad had the baby in his arms. Mum stood there beaming.

“Welcome home, Mum,” I whispered, using the words I’d practiced.

She smiled at how nervous I was. She took my hand and led me back into the house, into the kitchen. She sat me on a chair and put the baby in my arms.

“Look how beautiful your sister is,” she said. “Look how strong she is.”

I lifted the baby higher. She arched her back like she was about to dance or fly. She reached out and scratched with her tiny nails at the skin on my face. She tugged at my lips and touched my tongue. She tasted of milk and salt and of something mysterious, sweet and sour all at once. She whimpered and gurgled. I held her closer and her dark eyes looked right into me, right into the place where all my dreams were, and she smiled.

“She’ll have to keep going for checkups,” Mum said. “But they’re sure the danger’s gone, Michael. Your sister is really going to be all right.”

We laid the baby on the table and sat around her. We didn’t know what to say. Mum drank her tea. Dad let me have swigs of his beer. We just sat there looking at each other and touching each other and we laughed and laughed and we cried and cried.

Soon there was a gentle knock at the door. I went and found Mina standing there. She was shy and quiet, like I’d never seen her before. She started to say something, but it was a mumble and she ended up just looking into my eyes.

“Come and see,” I said.

I took her hand and led her into the kitchen. She said good evening politely to my parents. She said she hoped they didn’t mind. Dad shifted aside to let her in beside the table. She looked down at the baby.

“She’s beautiful,” she gasped. “She’s extraordinary!”

And she looked around and laughed with us all.

She was really shy again when she said, “I brought a present. I hope you don’t mind.”

She unrolled a picture of Skellig, with his wings rising from his back and a tender smile on his white face.

Mum caught her breath.

She stared at me and she stared at Mina. For a moment, I thought she was going to ask us something. Then she simply smiled at both of us.

“Just something I made up,” said Mina. “I thought the baby might like it on her wall.”

“It’s really lovely, Mina,” Mum said, and she took it gently from Mina’s hands.

“Thank you,” said Mina. She stood there awkwardly. “I’ll leave you alone now.”

I led her back to the door.

We smiled at each other.

“See you tomorrow, Mina.”

“See you tomorrow, Michael.”

I watched her walk away in the late light. From across the street, Whisper came to join her. When Mina stooped down to stroke the cat, I was sure I saw for a second the ghostly image of her wings.

Back in the kitchen, they were talking again about giving the baby a proper name.

“Persephone,” I said.

“Not that mouthful again,” said Dad.

We thought a little longer, and in the end we simply called her Joy.