The Girl Who Cried Wolf(31)
‘Let me look at you,’ she tells me, and smiles as she holds my face in her hands. ‘Anna, you are just the same.’
‘I thought I would never see you again.’ I remember how much I had cried after her passing, knowing she had gone for ever.
‘You knew you would see me one day, darling, you just didn’t know that you knew!’
She laughs her tinkling laugh again and beckons me to follow her into the cottage.
Although my heart is filled with joy, I shudder with apprehension as I do not see the dark wolf but I feel his ominous presence nearby.
***
I walk into a room and call out to my Great Grandmother, but she does not respond and unaware of me, continues to carry her tray into the living room. I once again become an unwitting observer to the scene.
A girl of perhaps twelve is crying softly, holding her head in her hands as she sits in a comfortable-looking armchair adorned with crocheted blankets. She is stroking a shaggy dog who sits contentedly in her lap.
‘Lillian, my dear. I’m pleased to see you after all this time, but I’ll have to tell your parents you’re here. They called this morning, and I hope they call again so I can put an end to their worrying. Why on earth have you run away this time?’
‘Why have I run away? A thousand reasons! How about because we’re moving again? I’ve only just made friends and wanted to go to their school, I never learn anything in that stupid caravan. Mother doesn’t know about anything I want to be taught! I am tired of seeing them get drunk! The men they think are their friends look at me for too long and try to tickle me until I scream and everyone thinks it’s funny! I don’t want their filthy rough hands anywhere near me.’
She looks gravely concerned and stares hard into the open fire, as though the answer may be found somewhere in the crackling flames.
‘They’re travellers, darling; they never stay somewhere long enough for you to be in school. I know you get tired of moving but they love you very much. You are a family and you must stay together. You may not like their choice of friends, but I know neither of them would let you come to any harm.’
My young mother snorts and I can tell those words sound as hollow to her ears as they do to mine. I am shocked that my grandparents could have let her be exposed her to this. I begin to feel uncomfortable as I remember the night I drank some of their ‘special juice’.
‘Grandma, they were so drunk last night they didn’t even hear me sneak out. I want to live with you, I hate that pokey caravan. I cannot wait until I am old enough to buy my own house … it’ll be big and beautiful and I will stay there for ever!’
I see my Great Grandmother smile sadly as she hands my mother the tray and watches her devour the scones, giving the dog a few crumbs to nibble. It surprises me to see her so fond of the little thing, I could never imagine her, in her crisp, white linen trousers, letting a dog lick sticky jam from her fingers.
A ringing breaks through my reverie and I see Beth run towards an old fashioned phone and lift the receiver. My mother looks horrified as she tells the caller that yes, Lilly is safe and with her. She asks them to call back later tonight when she has had time to think.
‘Lilly, they are terribly worried. You must stop running away, that is not the answer. I think you should stay here with me for now, at least until I know what to do.’ My mother laughs happily as the little dog licks her face and she looks pleased to discover her determination may have won at last. I cannot help but think that she looks remarkably like me.
***
I’m being guided towards another room and as the door opens I see a busy street, and my mother (a little older) is apologising to a handsome man as she picks up his books from the pavement.
‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!’ She picks up the last book and smiles at him before hurrying into a room past a sign saying, ‘Auction.’
The man is without a doubt my father, but I am taken aback by how young and good looking he is. He’s in his twenties and still has very dark hair and a moustache, but it is trimmed neatly. His hair is gelled fashionably into place. With a bemused look on his face he follows her past the sign and finds her looking at a tired and tattered-looking sofa.
She smiles when she sees him. ‘I need furniture for my flat. I’m going to university to study History.’
‘How old are you?’ he asks, unable to take his eyes off her face.
‘Nineteen.’ I see her flick her hair over her shoulders the way I used to and I realise she likes him. I understand that he must seem very impressive to her considering her upbringing. He’s dressed in an expensive grey suit and has an imposing aura. People were noticing him amongst the tatter and jumble and I could sense that my mother appreciated that. Perhaps she saw an opportunity for the life she had always dreamed of, a proper family living in a big house with a garden where she could live for ever. In that instant, maybe the smell of the dingy caravan of her youth became a little less prevalent. I understood her a little better as she smiled at this man, a radiant beautiful smile that clearly beguiled him. He asked her name, and I noted that she almost said ‘Lilly,’ then quickly changed to telling him ‘Lillian.’
***
Vibrations intensify as the scene vanishes and I walk down a dark corridor of what seems to be a hotel. I push open the nearest door and recoil as I see him on top of my mother.