Songbirds(78)

I held the kestrel on my lap, while working on disentangling it from the net. It lay still, looking up at me with its large, beady eyes. Above us and around us flew the birds that had been rescued. On the ground beside us lay the birds that had died.

Finally, I released the kestrel from the net and Yiannis and I both stopped to watch as the kestrel opened its spotted wings and launched into the sky. I said: ‘Nisha was always smiling, you know, in spite of everything. She brought up my daughter and cleaned my home and always smiled with all of her heart. Did you see that?’

‘Nisha once told me,’ replied Yiannis, tracing the kestrel’s path in the sky with his eyes, ‘that she wanted to protect Aliki from her pain. She carried much of it – pain. I don’t know if you knew that. But she wanted Aliki to see her as happy, so that the child could feel that the world was full of joy. Nisha said, “Children search our eyes to discover the world. When they see happiness or joy or love there, then they know that these things exist.”’

I knew instantly that this was the gift Nisha had given to my daughter – that Aliki had learnt to understand the world through Nisha’s eyes.

*

Two nights later, I was tucking Aliki into bed. ‘Do you remember you told me about the birds stolen from the sky?’ I asked her, as I pulled the sheets up to her chin, then folded them back and patted around her arms, pulling the fabric tight as she liked it.

She nodded.

‘I rescued them. Yiannis and I, we went to rescue them. We released them from the nets so they would be able to fly again.’

‘So now they can carry on with their journey?’

‘Yes.’

She nodded again, her eyes wide and watery in the light of the bedside lamp.

‘Did some of the birds die?’

I paused. ‘They did,’

‘Nisha will be sad.’

*

On Thursday, Tony rang and asked if he could come visit that evening. He didn’t sound OK.

‘Is there something wrong?’ I said. I had become accustomed to the tone of his voice, but today he sounded apprehensive, tentative. He called nearly every day to check in, give any updates, to see if Yiannis or I had any news.

‘It’s best if we talk when I see you,’ he said.

I went up to tell Yiannis that Tony would be visiting at 7 p.m., but I did not elaborate on the nature of our conversation.

I took Aliki over to Mrs Hadjikyriacou’s.

‘Someone is coming to tell you something about Nisha, aren’t they?’ Aliki said, as we knocked on Mrs Hadjikyriacou’s door.

‘I think so,’ I said.

‘Hm,’ was her response. A small sound, like a mouse.

Yiannis arrived first, just before 7 p.m. He was holding his tablet in his hand in case Kumari called: he was worried about her. His hair had grown, he was unshaven, there were dark circles under his eyes and he looked as though he’d been wearing the same clothes for days. His arm was still in a sling and I didn’t bother to ask him again about it. He sat down on the sofa close to the fire. Neither of us mentioned the afternoon of the songbirds, and neither of us mentioned Nisha.

‘How is Aliki?’ he said.

‘She’s fine, thank you. She’s with Mrs Hadjikyriacou.’

He nodded.

‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘Just water.’

I went off to the kitchen and heard the tablet ring.

‘Why aren’t you at school?’ Yiannis said.

‘I couldn’t go in, Mr Yiannis . . . feel too worried. I make up stories of what has happened to Amma. Maybe she is trapped underground like my baba was. Amma told me the story about Baba. Will you tell me true things from now on, Mr Yiannis, because then my brain make up other things?’

‘Of course,’ he said.

‘My grandmother want to know any more information. She is in the other room on the bed. She has been crying.’

‘OK, Kumari,’ he said. ‘Listen to me carefully and remember that I’m here any time if you or your grandmother need to speak to me.’ Yiannis hesitated as I returned with a jug and three glasses on a tray, placing it on the coffee table. ‘A woman has been found in a lake here on the island,’ he said.

I stood behind him out of the glow of the screen. Kumari remained silent at first, then with a shake in her voice, she said, ‘Is the lady in the lake alive?’

‘No.’

‘Could the lady in the lake be my amma?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m sure it’s not.’

Once again there was no response for a while.

‘You think it might be Amma. I know you do,’ she said. ‘Because if you thought it was definitely not Amma you wouldn’t tell me this information. You are telling me to . . . prepare me. Isn’t that right Mr Yiannis?’

‘Yes, Kumari.’

Then she was gone.

Yiannis sat without moving, staring at his own reflection in the dark screen. I took a step forward and placed my hand on his shoulder.

The doorbell rang.

I left Yiannis sitting there and went to let Tony in. It was strange to see him out of the booth. He was much taller and wider than I realised and he walked slowly and heavily, like a bear.

He sat in the armchair opposite Yiannis and I poured him a glass of water.