Freckles(38)

I recently heard the phrase, you are the average of the five people you spend the most time with. If the phrase is true, and on long contemplation on the people in and on the course of my life, I think it is, then I want my five to be a mash-up of the greatest and most inspiring five that I can think of. I’m not looking for an intimate friendship, that would be weird, but whatever you’d be comfortable with on your terms. I suggest letters, emails, Zoom or Skype, but it’s up to you.

It was recently brought to my attention that I have control of the five people in my life, it’s not just who you’re stuck with. So I can kind of curate the person I want to be. Sure we’ll see how it goes.

I’d love to know who your five are. They must be very special for you to be the way you are.

I hope to hear from you.

Best wishes

Allegra Bird

I fall into bed as soon as I arrive back to the house at ten thirty. The McGoverns are still away on their sun break in Marbella, the house is dark and locked up. It’s eerie to be faced with this great big empty mansion. There are a few night lights left on to make people think they’re home.

I think I see Barley out on the grass sniffing around but then remember he’s been sent to doggy day care and as the creature nears a garden light, its bushy tail reveals itself. An madra rua. The fox. I turn my lights off to get a clearer look. Sensing the change in light, it pauses and looks up my way. I hold my breath. It holds my stare. I don’t want to blink. I don’t want to look away. I’m not scared this time.

I gently move away to the fridge and take out a packet of ham. I go outside to the secret garden, hoping it hasn’t left. It’s still sniffing around the lawn. It’s not a cub, it’s a big one, an expert scavenger, fed itself nice and healthy.

I pull apart the slices of ham and place them down on the grass. The fox watches me from afar, through the entrance of the neatly manicured hedge.

That’s for you, I whisper.

I slowly back away, far enough so that it’s not threatened, but close enough to be able to see in the dark. It watches me, as if assessing me. Sizing me up. Can I be trusted. It decides I can and hurries forward, straight to the ham. Snaps it up and dashes away.

Pleased with myself, I turn around to go into the garage and the house alarm goes off, so sudden and so piercing it gives me such a fright I drop all of the ham and hurry inside.

By the time I get into my room my phone is ringing.

Becky calling.

Hi Allegra.

Hi Becky.

You’re out of breath, where are you, she asks.

In Dublin.

Funny, she says, drily. Where exactly.

I wasn’t being funny, I was home in Valentia for Easter, I reply, confused. I thought you meant … anyway now I’m back. I just got back a few hours ago.

Oh. Right, she says, so as you know the house alarm has gone off. I can hear it in the background. Gosh it’s loud. It’s probably nothing, but the security company just called me about it … they’ve contacted the guards and they’ll be over shortly.

Okay.

Allegra, she says slowly then pauses. You didn’t go inside the house did you.

Why would I, I say, rushing around the room to put a tracksuit on. Guards, she said, guards. Detective Freckles.

You sure you didn’t go near the house or hit the sensors …

I stop and frown, realising this is sounding like an accusation. No, I say bluntly.

I grab the super flashlight that’s beside the fire extinguisher. Advertised as the world’s brightest flashlight, it must come close with a blinding 4,100 lumens. I remember pointing it at bats with Marion, Jamie and Cyclops. You’re so weird, Marion had said with a laugh, watching me pack my bags to leave. What are you going to do with that in Dublin. It’s a city, there’ll be lights everywhere. Apparently you can barely see the stars there. Well, Marion, who’s the weirdo now.

Okay, well I didn’t want you to get a fright, Becky says, all nice again, as if she hadn’t just accused me of breaking into her house. But I don’t care, I’m excited the guards are coming.

As I pull the garage door closed behind me the flashlight illuminates the entire garden. I don’t know if Donnacha’s studio has an alarm. At five hundred euro for a small bowl that doesn’t hold anything, there’s a lot of value in that room. With the house alarm wailing in my ear I check the studio door. It’s locked. No smashed windows. I shine the light inside and see all his work in various levels of production and completion. All is still.

Hey there, I hear a man call.

I turn around and see two guards entering the garden from the side gate. My stomach flips with excitement. The male guard has got a tiny little torch, nothing like mine. I shine it in their direction, not in their face, I’m not stupid, and walk towards them. As I get closer I recognise them from the local station. The female garda is the cool one I see around the village. She wears lots of make-up and her blonde hair is tied up. She’s not much older than me. Could have been me, I think whenever I see her. I always say hi and wave at her as I pass the office. I smile at them now but they don’t reciprocate and I’m a little disappointed, in fact a lot disappointed that they don’t recognise me as the parking warden. My job is to essentially assist them, after all.

I’m Allegra Bird, I say, my hand extended. I’m the McGoverns’ tenant. I live above the gym. I point the torch at my room to show them. Becky told me you were on the way. I was worried about Donnacha’s studio, he has some valuable stuff in there, so I checked it out. No signs of forced entry. I haven’t checked the house yet. I turn my torch to the work studio and they take a few steps in that direction. The male garda walks up to the window. Looks inside. Checks the handle on the door. Same thing I did. I watch their every move. It could have been me.