The Sister(206)

Stella had beaten him in getting ready. She looked immaculate in the clothes she’d been wearing the day before; hair tucked up into a silken scarf; make-up faultlessly applied.

‘How did you—?’

‘When I have to get going, I don’t mess about. Unlike some.’ She grinned.





An hour later, they were on the road. The trip didn’t seem to take anywhere near as long as Miller’s blindfolded journey.

‘You decided you can trust us enough not to tell anyone where you live then?’

Rosetta glanced sideways at him. ‘It was never a question of trust. What you don’t know, you can’t tell anyone else. After this, we are moving on, so it really doesn’t matter.’

Miller looked at Stella, turned down one corner of his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. She mirrored his gestures and raised an eyebrow.

Rosetta smiled, crinkling her eyes, and met Stella’s gaze in the rear-view mirror. ‘Your sister is so much better,’ she said.

‘It would be a miracle if that were true.’

Rosetta’s eyes came back from the road to the mirror again, still smiling. ‘Oh, ye of little faith.’





Open heath gave way to woods and then forest; where the sun streamed flickering beams through passing trees; light and dark strobed in and out in equal measure. Miller, drawn by the rhythm into abstract thought, glanced at Stella. She appeared to be sleeping. He closed his eyes.

Rosetta slowed, and without indicating, turned from the road into a narrow lane. Deeper into the woods the density of the trees increased, closing up their leafy overhead canopies until the sky could be seen no more. Gloominess prevailed. The uneven road bounced and jarred him from his daydream. Miller opened his eyes. Stella stretched her arms wide, fists clenched and shivered. Guessing they were close, she remained silent, contemplating. A narrow gap in the earthen bank presented itself, and Rosetta turned into it. Ahead, the track led out into the sunshine.

‘How does the postman find you?’ he laughed.

‘Nobody finds us. We have no need of mail delivery. What we send, we deliver ourselves, one way or another.’ Her eyes blinked at the sudden increase in brightness. ‘And what we need, we collect.’

Tyres crunched over gravel as she slowed, wildflowers and weeds, overgrown and undisturbed by traffic, brushed against both sides of the car with a gentle rasp.

Around a long slow bend, nestled among a copse of trees, a house came into view. With walls of stone and leaded windows, under a heavy slate roof, it was an oasis of civilisation amongst the wilds, its gardens neat and clipped. A flash of light reflected from a lower window, dazzling him. Vision blurred; he leaned back into the seat to avoid the glare, and watched his own arrival in his mind’s eye. He sat forward with a start. On the cusp, understanding lingered at the edge of his consciousness, as elusive as the shadows that had dogged him all his life. Pusty umysl. He cleared it all from his mind.

The car drew to a halt. Miller appeared to be in a trance. Stella glanced at him and waved a hand before his eyes. He was gone, yet still he followed Rosetta, in through the front door, past the lobby into the hall. At the first door on the left hand side, she turned to Stella and said, ‘Sit in there, please.’

‘Is he all right, Rosetta?’

‘He’ll be fine,’ she said and smiling reassurance, led Miller down the narrow passageway towards the last door on the right as she’d done before. At the end of the corridor, brilliant light shone through the window and fuzzed his vision. Kaleidoscope colours preceded Sister’s appearance in the doorway. As he advanced towards her, his viewpoint switched, and he watched himself coming forwards. Rosetta withdrew from his side, trailing behind. Shadows formed and gathered to the left and right of him. Three dimensional and no longer dark, they emerged from the washed-out watercolour hues of hair and clothes and creamy flesh, becoming lit and exposed in the brightening light, as he neared the window. Am I seeing through her eyes?

With only two paces remaining between them, his view switched back. The shadows at his shoulders resumed their darkness on the periphery of his vision, but he felt no danger. Her gloved hand extended; she smiled at him. I know what to do! Snatching her hand, he gripped her wrist. Eyes flashed. Receding. Caught between here and there, he understood at last. I wasn’t controlling the bird that day. She was.





‘Where’s Kathy?’ Stella asked when Rosetta returned.

‘She’s upstairs, sleeping in the room right above us.’ She lifted her face to the bowed ceiling.

‘How can you be sure? We’ve only just walked in,’ Stella said. ‘And you’ve been gone at least three quarters of an hour.’

‘Oh, Stella, you’ll be seeing her soon enough. I think it’s best my mother enlightens you.’

She fell silent. Intrigued, but reluctant to push for an answer, she changed the subject. ‘I'd go crazy if I had to live all the way out here, away from it all. Doesn’t it drive you mad?’

Rosetta considered the question. ‘No, not at all, there’s always something to do.’ She indicated a tray in the far corner of the room. ‘See that?’

‘What about it?’

‘One of the first things I learned from my mother. You don’t need props, but some people like it, if you have them.’