Finding Sky (21 page)

I really didn’t want to do this but knew I had to.

‘Don’t be frightened,’ whispered Zed. ‘I’ll be there with you.’

‘OK. OK. So what do I do?’

Uriel smiled reassuringly. ‘Just relax and let me in.’

It started out fine. I felt him examining my memories—the ones where I met my adoptive parents and how music helped heal me. I hadn’t buried those. It was when he pushed on the door leading back that I felt fear.

Don’t fight
, Zed said.
He’s not going to hurt you.

But it wasn’t Uriel I was scared of: it was what lay beyond the door.

Nothing we see there will make us feel any different about you
, he assured me.

I could feel waves of calm emotion coming from the other members of the Benedict family; Xav was doing something to reduce my racing pulse.

I took a deep breath.
OK
.

Uriel pushed the block aside and images began to stream through like a crowd rushing the turnstiles.

A cold night. Seething anger in a car.

‘I’ve had as much as I can take of this kid. She ruins everything!’ A man beating the steering wheel while a hollow-cheeked woman fixed her make-up in the mirror. She looked a bit like me but her skin was really bad, as if she’d not eaten properly for months. The layers of foundation didn’t hide the blemishes.

‘What can I do? I’m the only family she has.’ The woman made kissy noises as she patched up her blood-red lipstick.

A door opened further back in time. Other lips, bubblegum pink, kissing my cheek. My mummy had been Red Lips’s sister. She smelt of light perfume and had a silvery laugh. Her long fair hair brushed my tummy when she leant over to tickle me. I giggled.

The doorbell rang.

‘Stay here, poppet.’ She put up the side of the travel cot.

A rumbling voice in the corridor. Daddy. We didn’t want him to find us, did we, Mummy? Why was he here? I clutched my lop-eared rabbit tight, listening to them in the hall.

‘But you’re not my soulfinder, Ian—we both know that. Miguel is. I’m going to him and you can’t stop me!’ Mummy’s voice was ugly. She was really cross, but she was also scared. I felt scared.

‘What about the child? What about me? You can’t leave England with her!’

‘You never wanted her before—you’re just jealous!’

‘That’s not true. I’m not letting you do this.’

‘I have to be with him. You of all people should understand.’

‘Go then. But I’ll take my daughter with me.’

They were getting nearer. I whimpered. The room was red with anger and the brash gold of love. A shadowy man plucked me from my bed and hugged me to his chest. The mouse nightlight exploded—bulb fragments flying.

‘Mouse!’ I screamed.

Mummy was shaking with anger. ‘You lost Di too young—lost your soulfinder—and I’m really, really sorry, Ian. But against all the odds, I found mine after I’d given up and I have to go to him. Now just put her down!’

Daddy squeezed me tighter. He was shaking. ‘Why should I be the one left with nothing, Franny? I won’t stand for it.’ As she moved to take me back, he threw his hand towards her and my books leapt off the shelf, bombarding her.

The carpet began to smoke under his feet. I sobbed.

‘Stop it, Franny. You’ll set the whole bloody house on fire!’

‘You’re not taking her from me!’ Mummy’s temper flared and my bed went up in flames. ‘I won’t leave my baby behind.’ She reached out, tugging at my sleep suit.

The burning bed spun in the air and slammed into her, throwing her into a wall.

‘Mummy!’ I screwed my eyes shut.

I never saw them again.

Another image. Auntie Red Lips had collected me from the hospital. I was the only one to have survived the fire—miraculously floated out of the house by unseen forces and found curled up on the dew-damp grass. Now we lived in a flat. I was still cold, my dress filthy. I was tiny—my head not even reaching the door handles. There was loud music in the main room; I’d been told to keep out of the way so was hiding in the hallway.

‘Don’t look at me like that!’ It was the driver man again; he had a friend with him this time. He kicked out when I didn’t move fast enough. I scurried back, pressing myself against the wall, trying to pretend I wasn’t there. I watched as he passed the other man something and got money in exchange.

‘He cheated you,’ I whispered.

The second man stopped and knelt beside me. His breath was horrible, like fried onions. ‘What you say, little chicky?’ He seemed to find me funny.

‘He lied. He’s pleased he tricked you.’ I rocked to and fro, knowing I was going to be punished but at least He would be too.

‘Hey,’ He said, smile insincere. ‘You’re listening to my girlfriend’s little brat? What she know about anything?’

The onion man took the package out of his pocket and pressed it between thumb and finger, no longer smiling. ‘This pure?’

‘One hundred per cent. I give you my word.’

‘He’s lying,’ I said. The Man’s colours were sickly yellow.

Mr Onion held it out. ‘Thanks, chicky. I want my money back. Your word isn’t worth fifty quid.’

The man handed it back, swearing his innocence.

Next came pain.

Later, I heard Him telling the doctor how I’d fallen down the stairs and broken my arm. I was clumsy. A lie. He’d got angry with me.

Then we were back in the car. Another day. On the move again before anyone got too interested in us. Auntie Red Lips was feeling jittery. She’d been moaning, said He was about to ditch her because of me. She didn’t like me either. I saw too much, she said. Like a witch. Like her stupid, dead half-sister.

‘We could give her to the social services in Bristol, say we can’t cope.’ Auntie glared at me.

‘First rule—never let the authorities even know we exist. We’re not going back to Bristol—we’ve moved on.’ He cut up another car undertaking on the motorway.

‘Since when, Phil?’

‘Since the police busted the Cricketer’s Arms.’

I gazed out of the window at the blue sign—I saw it had a little symbol of a plane at the top. The road was going somewhere, taking off on a jumbo jet. I wished I could. I started to sing.
Leaving on a jet plane
…

‘That’s it!’ The man indicated, taking us off the road and into a service station. ‘We’re dumping the freak here.’

‘What!’ The woman glanced across at him in bewilderment.

Slime green malice emanated from the man; her colours were dark purple, with a hint of green. It made me feel sick to look at them. I looked at my grubby shorts instead.

‘You’re joking, right?’

‘Wrong. I’m leaving her here. You can either stay with her or come with me. Your choice.’

‘Bloody hell, Phil, I can’t just dump her!’

He pulled over into a space towards the rear of the car park, checking his mirrors nervously. ‘Why not? I can’t operate with her around. Some do-gooder will find her. She’ll be their problem, Jo, not ours. She’s just Franny’s mistake. She should’ve got rid of her. She’s nothing to do with you—with us.’ He leant over and kissed her, his colours a horrid yellow which signalled a big fat lie.

The woman bit her lip. ‘All right, all right, give me a moment. God, I need a drink. Won’t we be traced?’

He shrugged. ‘Car plates are false. If we don’t get out, we won’t be caught on camera. No one in England knows her. Parents died in Dublin—unless they think to check abroad, she’s nobody. Who’s gonna recognize her after all this time? She’s not even got the accent.’

‘So we leave her and someone else looks after her. She doesn’t get hurt.’ Auntie was trying to persuade herself she was doing the right thing.

‘But she will if I have to come back for her. She’s bad for us—ruining what we’ve got.’

Summoning up the courage, the woman nodded. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘We just need a chance to get clear.’ The man turned round and grabbed the front of my T-shirt. ‘Listen, freak, you be quiet, no fuss, or we’ll come back and get you. Understand?’

I nodded. I was so scared I thought I might wet myself. His lights were pulsing a violent red like just before he hit me.

He reached over and opened the door. ‘Now get out and sit over there. Don’t cause trouble.’

I unclicked my belt, used to looking after myself.

‘Are you sure about this, Phil?’ the woman whined.

He didn’t answer, just pulled the door closed. The next thing I heard was the car accelerating away.

I sat down and counted daisies.

When I opened my eyes this time, I wasn’t in a car park, but sitting in the circle of Zed arms, warm, cared for.

‘You saw that?’ I whispered, not daring to look at him.

‘Yeah. Thank God they dumped you before he killed you.’ Zed rubbed his chin lightly over the crown of my head, the hair catching in his stubble.

‘I still don’t know who I am. I don’t think they ever said a name.’

Auntie Jo, Phil, and the freak—that’s what we’d been when I was six. If my mother and father—Franny and Ian—had given me a name, I’d forgotten it. My parents had been savants; they’d killed each other because they hadn’t controlled their gifts, leaving me with a junkie as my guardian. I felt so angry with them for that betrayal.

‘A truth-teller don’t go down too well in the house of a dealer.’ Zed circled my wrists with his fingers, brushing my palms to gentle out my clenched fists. ‘I’ve seen scum like that before working for Trace and Victor. You were lucky to get out.’

As a child, I’d not understood the transaction in the passageway, but I did now. ‘I spoiled things for Phil big time—that man was his best customer. I did that more than once.’

‘And he hurt you more than once.’

I cringed, hating having so much ugly stuff exposed like this before the Benedicts. ‘I think so.’

Zed’s anger was crimson, not directed at me, but out at the one who had dared hurt me. ‘I’d like to get him, make him feel what he did to you.’

‘He was an evil man, using my aunt. She was mostly OK—but couldn’t be bothered with me. I don’t suppose they’re still together.’

‘They’re probably both dead. Drugs and dealing don’t make for long happy lives,’ said Uriel matter-of-factly.

I sagged back against Zed, exhausted and raw. I needed time to put what I’d seen in place, adjust my memories. We weren’t talking about it, but I had to come to terms with what my mum’s obsession about going to her soulfinder had done to us all. It crept like an ugly stain seeping across what I thought I had with Zed. I felt dirtied by it—threatened.

‘You’ve seen enough,’ said Zed. ‘We don’t expect you to remember everything right away.’

‘But we’ve found the foundation,’ said Uriel. ‘We can build on that.’

Looking round at the others in the room, I could tell they weren’t expecting any answers today. Victor and Trace were the most impatient for information but trying to hide it.

‘You need a break. Take the girl snowboarding, Zed,’ said Trace. ‘We’ll make sure you’re safe.’

I pushed away the grim memories with an effort. ‘By break, do you mean I should break a leg, because that’s what’s going to happen if I try to board.’

Trace laughed, the serious cop-face relaxing into a fond smile as he regarded his kid brother. ‘No, Sky, I don’t. He’ll take good care of you.’

 

It was a relief to get outside. The memories were hanging over my head like a poisonous cloud but the pristine white slopes blew them away—for the moment. Everything sparkled. If I concentrated, I could count every pine needle, every cone, every snowflake, my perception was so clear. The mountains didn’t daunt me today but exhilarated.

I’d borrowed a snowsuit from Karla, which made me look like a dumpling, but Zed seemed to think it was cute.

‘Nursery slopes?’ I asked, my breath puffing like a dragon.

‘No, too many people.’ Shading his eyes, he studied the mountain, giving me the chance to appreciate how long and dangerous he looked in his close-fitting navy ski suit, a shark on the slopes. He flashed a grin when he caught me admiring him and waggled his eyebrows teasingly. ‘Like what you see?’

I elbowed him. ‘Shut up! You really need to work on that humility thing.’

He laughed. ‘I will—if you’ll promise to teach me.’

‘I think you’re a lost cause.’

That provided him with even more amusement. When he’d finally stopped laughing, he hugged me to his side. ‘So, Sky, are you ready? Because we’re going up. There’s a peaceful place. I was going to take you there that day we got shot at in the woods, but I think it’s even better in winter. We’ll catch the lift up and walk down to it.’

The top of the mountain was much quieter than at the weekend. José wasn’t manning his stall so I couldn’t stop for a doughnut and a chat as I usually did. Zed led me away from the busy runs and into the woods.

‘Is this a good idea? You know what happened last time we went into the forest.’

Arm looped over my shoulders, he rubbed my upper arm in reassurance. ‘Dad and Mom are holding a barrier around the place. Trace, Vick, and Will are on lookout. We should be fine.’

‘A mind barrier?’

‘Yeah, it sends people away, makes them think they left the headlights on or got to meet someone in town. Which reminds me: how did you get through ours last night?’

I shrugged. ‘I felt it, but I was too desperate to care.’

‘You shouldn’t have been able to do that. It was why Trace and Vick were so suspicious of you just turning up out of the blue.’

‘Maybe this barrier isn’t as strong as you’d like to think.’

‘Maybe you’re stronger than we realize. We’ll have to find out.’

‘Not just now, please.’ I didn’t want anything more to do with savants—their powers were too freaky.

‘No, not now. This is playtime.’

We broke out into the open and the ground dropped away in an awesome sweep, smoothly curved like a J. The peaks across the valley towered on the horizon like an audience of giants come to watch the show.

‘Wow.’

‘Great, isn’t it? Not many people come here because it heads nowhere, but I like it. You can do some extreme boarding here without pesky skiers like my brother getting in the road.’

‘I’m not ready for extreme.’

‘I know. We can do slow and gentle too.’ He flipped the board down on to the snow. ‘Been surfing?’

I laughed. ‘You don’t know much about London, do you? We’re not exactly beach babes in Richmond.’

He grinned. ‘So what did you do all day?’

‘We have a deer park. You can go riding. There’s the Thames if you like rowing.’

‘Spill it.’

‘I … er … shopped. I’ve got an Olympic gold in that. And I had my music, of course.’

‘Time to broaden your horizons. Take a run then slide.’

‘What?’

‘Trust me, just do it.’

Feeling more than a bit foolish, I did as he asked.

‘OK, so you lead with your right foot.’

‘You can tell that how?’

‘It’s the foot you chose to slide with. Now, I’ll get you in the right stance.’ He adjusted the board and showed me where to put my feet. He put his arm around my waist and rocked me to and fro. ‘It’s about balance.’

‘This is just an excuse for you to get your hands on me.’

‘I know. Great, isn’t it?’

To my surprise, I proved much better at boarding than skiing. I fell over lots, of course, but more like the average learner than the complete idiot I was on skis.

‘Let me see you do your thing, Hot Stuff,’ I teased Zed after I felt I’d sat enough times on my butt to call it a day.

‘OK, Short Stuff. Make yourself comfortable over there and don’t move. I’m gonna show you how it’s done. I’ve just got to go up the hill some.’

I sat in the shelter of a little cliff, watching the slope for any sign of Zed but he seemed to be taking a very long while to get to the beginning of his run.

‘Woo-ee!’

A board shot overhead and Zed landed six metres in front of me, weaving his way down the hill.

‘Show off!’ I had to laugh. I should’ve guessed he’d do that.

He took a while to trudge back up to me, board on his shoulder, but he was grinning every step of the way.

‘What d’ya think?’ he called.

‘Hmm.’ I examined my nails. ‘Passable.’

‘Passable! That was perfect.’

‘You see, this other guy came by and did a somersault. I gave him a ten.’

He dumped the board and tackled me down on to the snow. ‘I want a ten too.’

‘Uh-uh. Not without a triple axel.’

‘That’s skating, you dork.’

‘My guy, he did one of those on the way back. Got maximum points.’

Zed growled into my neck. ‘I’m your guy. Admit it: there was no one else here.’

I giggled. ‘Still can’t give you a ten for that jump.’

‘How about I try and bribe you?’ He kissed his way up my neck to my lips, taking time to hit all the right spots. ‘So? How did I do?’

Hoping his future sense was on hold for the moment, I quietly took a handful of snow. ‘Hmm, let me think. It seems to me … you still need practice!’ Before he could react, I stuffed the snow down his neck, producing a squawk I’d not heard from him before.

‘Right, this is war.’ He rolled me over but I scrambled free, gasping with laughter. I ran but he caught me in a few steps and lifted me off my feet. ‘It’s into the snowdrift for you.’ Finding a deep patch, he dumped me down so I was half buried.

‘All the more ammunition!’ I made a quick snowball and chucked it at him.

It veered in the air and came back to hit my face.

‘You cheater!’

Zed bent over with laughter at my outrage.

‘That does it! Two can play at that game.’ Remembering my egg lasso, I imagined pulling the branch over his head down then let go. It sprang up, showering him with snow. Pleased with the effect, I brushed my hands nonchalantly together. ‘Take that!’

Zed shook the ice off his hat. ‘We should never have told you about being a savant. You’re dangerous.’

I leapt up, clapping my hands. ‘I’m dangerous—dangerous! Woo-hoo, I’m dangerous!’

‘But not yet skilled!’ The snow shifted from under me and I was on my back in the snowdrift with Zed kneeling over me, a threatening snowball in hand. ‘So what was that about my snowboarding?’

I smiled. ‘Definitely a ten. No, an eleven.’

He chucked the ball aside. ‘Good. I’m glad you’ve seen reason.’

I spent some time on my own later in the day, walking in the woods at the back of the house, sorting through the memories Uriel had unlocked. After my parents’ murderous argument—I couldn’t bear to dwell on that—my early childhood had been a chaotic nightmare of constant moves, haphazard care, and no love. It hadn’t become completely terrible until my aunt had hooked up with the drug dealing boyfriend.

What had happened to the rest of my family? I wondered. Had my mother and father no parents or grandparents, or other brothers or sisters for me to go to? It was a puzzle, and I suspected the answers would not be happy ones. At six, I’d only had a vague grasp of my circumstances, knowing I counted on two unreliable adults to look after me. It had been a horrible existence; not knowing how to make them love me, I had retreated into myself and taken small steps against Phil the bully who had made a project of hurting me.

I rather admired my child-self for that, even though I could have avoided some pain by keeping silent.

I strained to remember more. My name. It seemed a simple thing, one I should remember.

‘Sky, are you all right?’ Zed thought I’d brooded for long enough and had come in search of me bearing a takeaway cup.

‘I’m OK. Just thinking.’

He handed me the container. ‘You’ve done enough of that. Here, I made you hot chocolate. Not as good as the café’s, I know, but it should warm you up.’

‘Thanks. I need a chocolate hit right now.’

He took my elbow, steering me back towards the house. ‘Did you know that chocolate had special chemicals in it to make you feel happy?’

‘I don’t need an excuse for chocolate.’ I sipped, glancing at him sideways. The front of his hair where it was not covered by his hat carried a few snowflakes. His eyes were cheerful today—the pale green-blue of the river shallows in the sunshine. ‘And you, have you been sneaking some of the same chemicals?’

‘Hmm?’

‘’Cause you look happy.’

He laughed. ‘No, not chocolate, just you. That’s what being a soulfinder is all about—you’re my happiness shot.’

No, that wasn’t right: my parents proved that having a soulfinder spelled destruction. I was pretending to Zed that everything was OK but I just couldn’t do it—couldn’t take the risk. That crushing realization made me feel as if I’d just skied off a cliff and was still in freefall. How was I going to tell Zed—and his family—that after seeing what had happened to my mum and dad, I couldn’t be what they expected? When I landed with that news, everything was going to turn really ugly. Zed was going to hate me—and I already hated myself.

I was so scared.

With that hanging over me, the Benedicts chose that evening to begin preparing their house for Christmas. I felt like the Judas at the feast. Saul and Trace disappeared up into the attic and emerged with boxes upon boxes of decorations.

‘You take this seriously, don’t you?’ I marvelled, fingering a beautiful glass bauble with a golden angel suspended inside. That was me—trapped in a bubble of panic, unable to break free.

‘Of course, Sky,’ said Karla. ‘We collect as we travel. My family in the Savant Net, they send me special decorations to add to it each year. It would be an insult to the giver if we did not use them.’

Zed, standing behind his mother, rolled his eyes. ‘Mom doesn’t think one decoration enough when ten will do. You’ll think you’re standing in the Christmas department of Macy’s by the time we finish.’

No inflatable Santas for the Benedicts. Every artefact was exquisitely handmade and unique. I found a carved nativity set from South America, a string of icicle lights from Canada, and Venetian glass baubles. Part of me craved to belong to this wider family of people with the same kind of gifts, but I didn’t deserve to, not when I rejected their ways. I was going to have to say something and soon—it wasn’t fair to let them all treat me like one of them when I’d already made my decision to cut myself off from that future. But as each moment ticked by, I couldn’t find the courage to speak.

The ‘boys’, as Karla termed her menfolk, hauled back a fir tree cut from the family plot. It was twice my height and filled the family room to the ceiling. After the customary swearing over faulty bulbs and missing extension cords, Saul and Victor wrapped it in lights. The younger members of the family got to put on the decorations, Zed lifting me up on his back so I could put my choices on the higher branches. Karla recounted a tale for each one, either something about the person who gave it to her or about the place she had bought it. I got an impression of a huge extended family from here to Argentina with far flung branches in Asia and Europe. It made my own family of three seem very small.

‘Now we have the carols!’ declared Karla, returning with a tray of mulled wine, more hot chocolate for me, and sweet cinnamon biscuits.

Trace pretended to groan and complain. From the amused lights that shone around him, I guessed he was merely fulfilling his expected role as family musical failure. I settled back on a beanbag, keeping out of the way with my guilty conscience for company, and watched Saul tune up his fiddle, Zed get out his guitar, and Uriel assemble his flute. They played a selection of traditional carols beautifully, some of the tunes so haunting I felt I was transported back in time to when these were first sung. It was only then that I realized Uriel was glowing gently with a bronze light. He was not only playing tunes from the past, I could see that he was partly there.

‘We need a vocalist,’ Uriel announced. ‘Trace?’

Everyone laughed.

‘Sure, if you want to spoil the moment,’ he said, half getting up before Will wrestled him back down.

‘Sky?’ suggested Yves.

I shook my head. ‘I don’t sing.’

‘You’re really musical—I’ve played with you, remember,’ he coaxed.

A flutter of panic made me want to hide. ‘I don’t sing.’

Uriel closed his eyes for a moment. ‘You did.’

‘Not any more.’

‘Why not, Sky?’ asked Zed softly. ‘That’s behind you now. You’ve looked at the memories and can put them away. Today’s a new start.’

Just not the start he was expecting. Oh God, help me.