Ghostbird Read online

  ‘For someone who’s turned keeping secrets into an art form, you’ve got a funny way of reading the rules.’

  ‘I’ve told you before, they aren’t my secrets.’

  ‘You mean there’s more than one? Brilliant.’

  ‘That’s enough, Cadi.’

  Cadi heard something dangerous in her aunt’s voice. She didn’t care. ‘You can say that again.’ She hadn’t realise she enjoyed talking back quite so much.

  ‘Alright, alright, I’m sorry. You’re upset, I can see that. I won’t say anything, for now. So long as you promise me there’s nothing to worry about. Now drink up your chocolate.’

  ‘There isn’t.’ Crossing her fingers under the table, Cadi decided if she didn’t promise out loud it didn’t count. And Violet wouldn’t suspect a thing. She’d be too wrapped up in being annoyed with Cadi for going to the lake.

  She’sgoing to have to get used to it. The hard edge of the bangle in her pocket rubbed her hand. My dad loved the lake and even though Mam hates it and I’m scared to death, I’m going back.

  ‘Don’t worry, Lili,’ she said, forcing a smile. She picked up the mug. ‘And thanks for the chocolate.’

  Later that night she woke up with the end of a dream fading. Her mother and father slow-danced together under the cherry tree in Lili’s garden … a silver bangle hung from a branch…

  Cadi lurched to wakefulness.

  They gave her the bangle. It had been Dora’s. She realised she’d half guessed this the moment she lifted it out of the water; when she saw the shadow and sensed the restless energy, as if something had attached itself to the water.

  And it’s why I can’t tell Lili. I can’t tell her because I can’t be sure she won’t tell Violet. It didn’t matter how much she hated her mother, the truth was she wanted to love her. She wanted everything to be normal and for them to be the kind of family where the only secrets they had concerned birthday treats and Christmas presents.

  If she told Violet about the bangle it would break her mother’s heart.

  Falling asleep again, she dreamed her parents still danced in the garden under a slender moon.

  Five

  Most people missed unadorned magic.

  Lilwen Hopkins kept her knowledge to herself (and her athame hidden under her mattress.) She kept her Tarot cards wrapped in black silk and hardly ever looked at them. Even if she was persuaded to, the way a woman sighed when asked an innocent question about a man she desired told Lili everything she needed to know.

  Her lineage was old: Gwenllian, her mother, had been a green-fingered witch woman. She could, people insisted, plant a twig and grow a rose. And her grandmother, Morwenna, had known more about herbs than most of the village’s gardeners had forgotten. Tŷ Aderyn herbs were legendary.

  Lili still potted up cuttings of betony and borage from original stock, offering them to people in need of good dreams or productive bees. She cut mistletoe, the all-purpose magic, from the oak tree in the garden, and left bunches of it on people’s doorsteps. No one ever refused her gifts.

  Hopkins women knew small magic: nothing spectacular – none of them rode broomsticks or could turn metal into gold, although there were people who said Morwenna could light a candle by looking at it. Her fires never went out and while she was châtelaine of the big cottage, the chimney never once needed cleaning. Gwenllian couldn’t keep a fire in to save her life but her garden hardly ever needed weeding. Some of her roses were so sweet the bees got drunk and you could hold twenty of them in your closed hand and they would never sting you.

  The village accepted this – the Hopkins were old village and Lili’s father (by rights a Jones) had been a respected solicitor admired for his integrity.

  Acceptance is relative.

  Lilwen Hopkins possessed a subtle energy giving people the impression of a much larger woman. When she spoke, her voice took strangers by surprise. It held an edge, as if dust lingered in her throat. She wore her hair – as dark as Cadi’s – in a twist of blue or green silk. In winter she favoured emerald green boots and in summer, when she could get away with it, bare feet.

  Lili’s particular talent was for glamours which, rather than having the drama of invisibility, rendered her unimportant. Her mother told her anyone could do it, if only they had the patience to apply themselves. If Lili chose to, she could pass virtually unseen.

  Gwenllian taught Lili that nature resisted arrogance and most spells were cast by the ill-advised. Magic, she said, was as much about common sense and intention as it was about spells. ‘I have recipes and cures; blessings and healings. Don’t ask me for spells, cariad; spells are for fools. If people need you, they’ll find you. And always be wary of showing your hand. When a certain type of person believes you have a gift, they’ll do anything to get you to use it.’

  Sitting in the velvet armchair, the row with Violet and Cadi ran through Lili’s head. She recalled Cadi telling her, if she was a real witch, she’d make things happen.

  She means, get Violet to talk. Lili knew this as sure as her own name. But it doesn’t work like that.

  There had been something different in Cadi’s eyes today, more adult and distant. And Lili hadn’t seen her this upset or frightened in years. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen her niece cry. Until a few weeks ago, Cadi was always bursting through the door demanding to be read to, or begging to make fairy cakes, wearing her grandmother’s apron. Nagging Lili to let her help pot up geraniums for the kitchen windowsill. She couldn’t recall a Saturday evening when she hadn’t bought a pizza and rented a DVD and the two of them curled up on Lili’s bed surrounded by crumbs and chocolate wrappers. Whatever had upset her so badly, only a fool would fail to make a connection.

  Lili had no choice.

  Magic, her mother told her, didn’t make you strange, it made you useful. Stick to nature’s rules and you wouldn’t go far wrong. A witch woman’s power was to make things happen. But that kind of ability came from knowing what was needed rather than what a person believed they wanted.

  And a promise was a promise.

  If you can hear me, Mam, help me out here? The asking echoed round the kitchen.

  She would keep Violet’s secret. And she would keep an eye on Cadi. Getting to her feet, she straightened the cushion and blew out the candle.

  The following morning, she sat at her bedroom window trying to concentrate on her notes. Even though it had been raining for half an hour the air was already humid. The pencil slipped from her fingers. Lili tilted her face toward the window and imagined the rain running over her eyelids and her neck, into the cleft of her collarbone, cooling her skin. On the other side of the window lay the gardens she had known all her life, as perfect and as wild as the best of dreams.

  A witch woman’s garden is different, even one where the woman is discreet. The birds know it and make their nests boldly, knowing they are safe. And even if she doesn’t plant them, certain plants remember. Nightshade, valerian and foxglove take root in a witch woman’s garden.

  The older garden, behind Violet’s cottage, lay in shadow. Lili sighed and turned her eye and her heart away. Leaning against the window frame she breathed in warm air and the scent of lake water, looked toward the far end of her own garden, to where a spreading cherry tree disguised the view. Beneath the tree a wrought iron table stood, and chairs holding faded cushions.

  A door slammed. Cadi walked down the path, her feet crunching on the gravel.

  Lili opened the window. ‘Is your mam at work?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where are you going? How’s your face?’

  Cadi waved. ‘Don’t stress, Lili. I’m going to see Cerys. I’ll be back when I’m back.’

  ‘How long will you be?’ I have to talk to her.

  Cadi shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  Lili hesitated and the moment passed. ‘It’s starting to rain; you’ll get soaked.’

  ‘It’s August, Lili. It’s nothing and it’ll stop in a minute, you
know it will. I’m off. I’ll see you when I see you.’

  ‘Not good enough, tea-time at the latest.’ Lili watched as her niece strode away down the lane, her frock spilling behind her like a flowered cloud. ‘Give my love to Cerys.’

  The edges of the sky stretched, turned milky blue and rainlight drifted through the trees. The garden shook itself; spiders admired their newly decorated webs. Lili watched the rain shape-shifting across the window. Even though it wasn’t heavy it didn’t fool her. In August the rain could throw a person off their guard and leave them wondering where the birds had gone. It slanted across the wind and when the stars came out, caught on their edges like icicles. It fell with no meaning or intention – its nature was to fall.

  August rain followed its own rhythm, capricious and yet as certain as the dawn chorus. There would be a flicker, between breathing in and breathing out and there it would be: rain edged with the scent of lake water drifting through the village. And no matter how many times she washed it, it left a damp tang in Lili’s hair.

  On a rainy morning in August, Lili knew, if a woman ran outside and collided with her future lover, however hard she fell, it wouldn’t last. You didn’t go looking for love in the village in August.

  ‘I got the curse.’

  ‘I’d say that was cool, if I thought it was.’ Cerys patted Cadi’s hand.

  Cadi shrugged. ‘Nothing is as bad as you going away. Not that I begrudge you your holiday.’

  The two girls sat side by side on a double swing under Cerys’ umbrella.

  ‘I know, cariad.’ Cerys pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. Her dark red hair was pulled up in a ponytail. ‘I’ll miss you so much, I’ll be too miserable to enjoy myself.’

  She looked so mournful, Cadi almost laughed. ‘You kill me.’

  ‘You’re so prosaic, Cadi. But we’re the opposites that attract. Nothing will part us, not even death.’

  The toes of Cadi’s canvas shoes scraped the tarmac. ‘I’ll miss you more.’

  ‘You won’t miss me at all. You’ll turn into a hermit. I’ll get back and find you living in a cave.’

  Cadi agreed this was a possibility. Nevertheless, she would count the days until Cerys came home. ‘Ten days is ages.’

  ‘They’ll fly by,’ Cerys groaned. ‘There, I’ve said it again, the ‘F’ word. Why do I have to fly to Greece?’

  ‘Because your parents choose brilliant holidays?’

  ‘I wish you could come with me. What if the plane crashes?’

  ‘We’d both be dead?’

  ‘Unhelpful and cruel.’ Cerys pushed her foot on the ground and brought the swing to a stop. ‘I’m not making it up. I’m really scared.’

  A pulse of energy hit the back of Cadi’s neck, and her friend’s terror swept through her like a hot wind. Cadi shook her head to clear it. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s a new moon; Lili always says it’s a good time for adventures. I could ask her to do a protection spell.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘I’m kidding.’

  ‘I’ll tell you what the real differences between us are,’ Cerys said. ‘You’re clever, sensible and kind. And you have a witch for an aunt.’ A deep sigh registered her approval. ‘I’m shallow, but I’m smart and brave.’

  ‘That is true.’ Cadi kept her doubts about Lili to herself. Cerys adored Lili and wouldn’t hear a word against her.

  Cerys peered at Cadi’s face again. ‘You still haven’t told me how you got those awful scratches.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ A moment of fear surged through her and she felt the branch again, hitting her face, heard the fury in the unknown child’s voice. ‘I went for a walk and I wasn’t looking where I was going and smacked into a branch.’

  ‘You always look where’s you’re going.’

  Cadi glanced up at the church clock. ‘I have to go otherwise I’ll be in trouble.’

  Cerys frowned. ‘You sure you’re alright?’

  ‘I’m fine, don’t worry. I really have to go though. Lili is so on my case.’

  ‘I know the feeling. It’s rent-a-row in my house. Anyone would think we were going on safari, the fuss Mam’s making over the packing.’

  ‘At least your mother notices you.’

  ‘Lili notices you.’

  Cadi agreed, although she thought Lili didn’t know fourteen as well as she thought she did. Not what felt so important to Cadi it had become a second shadow.

  ‘It’s four o’clock already,’ Cerys said. ‘Mam’s on my case too. She said if I’m late she’d kill me.’

  ‘So either way, you’ll end up dead.’

  ‘Looks that way.’ Cerys eyed the sky and closed her umbrella. ‘I do believe the rain’s stopped.’

  ‘We better go.’

  ‘Best friends forever?’

  From the pocket of her denim jacket, Cadi pulled a small package. She handed it to Cerys. ‘I made this for you.’

  Inside a fold of tissue paper lay a friendship bracelet woven in green and gold silk.

  Cerys beamed. ‘It’s beautiful. Tie it on for me.’

  Cadi looped the bracelet round her friend’s wrist and made a knot.

  ‘Thanks, Cadi. I’ll never take it off.’

  ‘I should hope not.’

  They walked to the playground entrance.

  ‘Now don’t you go looking back,’ Cerys said. ‘Don’t forget to let them know what an amazing and talented person I was. And avenge my death.’

  ‘You can count on it.’

  They stood close enough to hear one another’s breath. Above them, in one of the poplar trees a dove cooed.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ Cerys said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Trust me. Close them.’

  Cadi did as she was told, and Cerys brushed her lips with a kiss.

  ‘What did you do that for?’ Cadi said.

  ‘Because I can?’

  Six

  Cadi couldn’t care less if she was late, but she didn’t want to give Lili a reason to question her again.

  As she came through the door, Lili greeted her with a smile. ‘Ah, there you are.’

  ‘Sorry if I’m late, we lost track of time. Cerys is going on holiday tomorrow; I shan’t see her for ages.’

  Lili placed the teapot on the table. ‘Never mind, I’m sure we can find things to do.’

  Cadi hung her jacket on the back of the door. ‘What have you been up to?’

  ‘You sound like my mother. I’m supposed to ask you questions like that.’

  ‘You know what I’ve been up to.’

  Lili raised her eyebrows. ‘I know what you told me.’

  Cadi ignored her and went over to the laptop. ‘Can I look?’

  ‘Of course.’ Lili opened the lid. ‘I wanted to live on one of these things when I was a kid.’

  Cadi leaned over her shoulder and peered at the screen. A houseboat with a wooden hull and a cabin in the stern, painted red. A girl steered the craft along a narrow canal and below the prow, water fell away in glittering arrows.

  ‘I thought, maybe two children going through a magic portal into another world.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Now, there’s a question.’ Lili smiled. ‘I don’t know yet, cariad.’

  The picture vanished. Cadi’s reflection in the screen made her look ghostly again. There were no birds or trees this time, only a blue blank making her face cold and unearthly. She sat down. ‘The sign’s gone from the White House.’

  ‘Yes, I saw that. Miss Bevan told me a woman from Cardiff’s bought it.’

  ‘Miss Bevan probably knows the poor woman’s bank balance and her bra size.’

  Lili grinned. She reached for a milk jug. Light like bee pollen caught in the fine hairs on her bare arm.

  Cadi said, ‘I can’t believe two weeks have gone already. Cerys going makes it feel like the last day of term all over again.’

  ‘Last days are best.’ Lili poured tea. ‘We tied our ties on the school gates one year.’


  ‘Did you get into trouble?’

  ‘What do you think? Mam went mad. We tied them so tight the headmistress made us cut them off with scissors. I didn’t get any pocket money for a month to pay for a new one. It was worth it, mind.’

  ‘Was Teilo there?’

  ‘No. He’d left school by then – started working for Joe at the garage. And in any case, my brother wouldn’t be seen dead hanging out with a bunch of girls.’ She smiled. ‘Not in those days. Not at school anyway.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Lili stirred her tea. There wasn’t any sugar in it. Some old habits never die. She liked her small rituals: tea in a pot with proper cups and saucers. It didn’t matter to Lili whether they matched or not.

  ‘Oh, you know boys, they’re all the same.’ She passed Cadi a plate of homemade brownies. ‘Now then, cariad, are you going to tell me what really happened at the lake?’

  In no mood to be deflected, determined not to tell Lili anything, Cadi said, ‘You always do this, Lili, change the subject when I talk about my dad. I don’t want to talk about what happened yesterday, I want to know about the time before now. And you’re the only person who can tell me. You know she won’t.’

  Lili chewed on her lip and put her brownie back on her plate. ‘Cadi, don’t.’

  ‘Why not? It’s always the same. You treat me like a kid and never tell me anything. He was my dad, Lili. What’s so terrible I can’t be told about my own father?’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘Really? It seems pretty straightforward to me.’

  Cadi knew only two things for certain: she must never call her dead sister Blodeuwedd in front of her mother, and her father died before she was born, in an accident while driving his beloved Jaguar: an old car with old brakes and the lanes no place for reckless driving.

  She was born eight months later. My mother hates me. I may as well be an orphan.

  It is midnight on May eve.

  The heartbeat of the land thunders in time to Violet’s contractions. As she pushes her second girl child into the world, the room floods with moonlight. And Violet’s wail is one of anguish rather than pain.