Take Me Home

by Daniela Sacerdoti

  I set out to walk home, but it was a beautiful early spring evening, and my feet didn’t seem to obey. They took me to the main street, and all the way to the loch. I stood on the shore in the soft light of dusk. The call of a tawny owl broke the silence once, twice.

  Take me home, she had begged me. Twice. Once when I was a child barely older than her, and then a few weeks ago. Twice she’d looked for me – she’d waited thirteen years for me to go back on the loch, she’d waited thirteen years to speak to anyone, probably. Hoping I would listen. And her sister had come to me too – I’d always known that there was a reason for Mary’s visits. No other spirit had ever come to me so often, or so intensely.

  But I didn’t know how to get her there. Helpless tears started flowing out of me, and before I realised what I was doing I found myself on the shore, sobbing. I didn’t know what I was crying for any more: Mary’s sister, or my own, or maybe for the love Mary and I no longer had. All of those things, probably. Two lost girls, and me in the middle, at a loss.

  40

  And still I found her

  Alex

  And so, Inary was magical. As simple as that. She had a gift I didn’t even know existed, though I’d read about it in books and seen it in films – not the kind of thing you’d ever think existed for real. What were the chances of falling for someone so unique?

  And still, I’d found her.

  I’d believed her at once. There was no room in my mind to wonder if she was really telling the truth, to suspect that there was something wrong with her. I knew her too well to doubt her.

  What she’d told me about the loch girl was disquieting. I didn’t really want to think of Inary in the cold waters of the loch, or having nightmares every night. Maybe, if I held her in my arms, she wouldn’t have bad dreams any more – I’d scare the girl in the loch away from her.

  But it wasn’t Inary I had in my arms, at night – it was Sharon. And I wasn’t sure how I could keep it going, to have my heart with one woman and be going out with another. Every day I said to myself I’d be stronger, and really try very, very hard to fall in love with the person beside me; every night I realised I’d failed again. How long could I keep Sharon in this limbo? But if I broke up with her, just like I’d broken up with Gaby, would it mean continuing on this awful, lonely road with Inary beside me, and still not there? Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. That was me.

  41

  Broken promises

  Inary

  The next day, as if I weren’t shaken enough, I bumped into him.

  Lewis.

  The world spun around me, a flood of memories swept me away.

  “Inary. I’ve been looking all over for you . . .”

  I folded my arms, looking down. He knew where I lived. Though maybe he didn’t dare show his face to Logan. And I couldn’t blame him.

  “You look lovely,” he said, and I fantasised about slapping him in the face, like I should have done three years ago. “To see you again . . . it feels so good.”

  Good wasn’t how I’d describe it. At Emily’s funeral I was too stunned, too overcome by everything to have the presence of mind to turn him away. He was lucky Logan hadn’t seen him there.

  “Look, can we go somewhere? Somewhere a bit more private than the street?”

  Is there anywhere private in Glen Avich? Apart from my house. And he wasn’t setting foot in there. I shook my head.

  “Inary . . . please. Just listen to me. Just this once.”

  I sighed. Oh, what the hell. Whatever he had to say couldn’t hurt me any more. And maybe, finally, I could have an explanation, and know if it’d really been finding out about the Sight that made him leave me.

  I started walking towards St Colman’s Way, and Lewis followed me in silence. I sat on the bench overlooking the village, sinking into my soft angora cardigan, and braced myself for what he was about to say.

  “How have you been?”

  Mutinously, I took my notebook out.

  Okay. So where’s Claire?

  “She’s fine. At home.” They were living together. I felt sick. “Good God, Inary . . . you’re writing instead of talking! Have you been to the doctor?”

  I rolled my eyes. A bit late to start worrying about me. Trauma, probably, I wrote. It’ll come back.

  “Oh, Inary . . .” he said, and brushed my arm.

  I felt myself folding in two, repulsed – and yet a tiny part of me, the part that was still sitting at the table in our house in Kilronan, reeling in shock, that part of me nearly cried with relief to feel his touch again. I hated that part. I truly, truly hated it.

  Were you seeing Claire when we were together? I scribbled, my hands shaking.

  “No! Oh God, Inary! Of course not!”

  Right, right. Sorry for thinking you were actually more of a bastard than you actually are.

  “It wasn’t that. It’s just that . . . I don’t know. It was all so fast . . .”

  You wanted to move in together. You wanted to get engaged. My eyes stung with the unfairness of it all. It had been him, the one rushing, the one who couldn’t get enough of me, who promised to be with me forever.

  “I know. I know. I’m an idiot.” He looked into the distance. I couldn’t believe his bloody cheek to look for me now.

  Was it the Sight?

  He looked away.

  Got you.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me . . . when you told me that. I panicked.”

  Why? What did it have to do with you?

  “Inary! You told me you see ghosts! How would you have reacted, had I told you that? You told me you were attacked by a drowned girl coming out of the loch!”

  I was.

  “I just couldn’t . . . I couldn’t . . .”

  You thought I was mad.

  “I thought I knew you. And then you sprang that on me.”

  It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have told you.

  “No, no. It was the right thing to do. It was me, being an idiot . . . After I left you I was in pieces . . .”

  Poor you, I thought.

  “Logan came to see me. He said you were in London. To stay away from you. He said he’d break my nose, you know your brother . . .”

  Good, I scribbled furiously.

  “I know, I deserved it. And then I just didn’t have the courage to get in touch. When I saw you at Emily’s funeral . . .”

  I winced.

  Conversation over, I wrote and stood up.

  “Inary. Please don’t go,” he said, and stood in front of me. He took a step closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and wrapped a lock of my hair behind my ear. “When you told me about your . . . gift . . . I should have stood by you. I should have known you were asking for help. And I should have been there to help you.”

  What? I mouthed.

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed about, Inary,” he continued, a soothing hand clasping mine. “I understand now. We should have faced your issues together . . .”

  My issues?

  I laughed.

  I just couldn’t help it.

  “Inary?”

  He thought I was ill. Mentally ill. Well, no point in arguing.

  I turned on my heels and walked away.

  Just like that.

  And there was no sense of having to rip myself from him, of a limb missing, like it used to be every time we were apart.

  “Inary?” he repeated. I stopped. There was still something left to say. I took out my notebook again and scribbled quickly.

  By the way, I see dead people again. All over the place. Tell your mum. She can have me exorcised.

  I wish I could say that this gave me some satisfaction, but I would be lying. The truth is, I felt nothing. I walked off and didn’t look back, darting down St Colman’s Way with the cold wind in my hair and not a tear in my eye.

  My gift wasn’t an illness. It was a privilege.

  And it was about time I used it.

  When I got home, I took a long,
deep breath. For the first time in three years, I felt free. Free of Lewis, free of regret. He thought I was ill – but the Sight was the best part of me. And now he was gone, and I had my gift back.

  I was whole again. The heart that Lewis had broken had grown stronger, and there was no reason for me to hide any more, to hide my Sight from the one I loved.

  Talking to Lewis had made me see. My gift had come back at the worst time of my life, the time I lost Emily. Just then, Mary arrived to comfort me in my darkest times – now it was my turn to help her. The girl in the loch needed me. Scaring me to death was the only way she thought she could make me listen. She looked like a monster, but her words were those of a frightened child: Please, Inary. Help me. Take me home.

  There was nobody else. Nobody else to listen, nobody else to take her home.

  Nobody but me.

  From Inary@gmail.com

  To Alex.McIlvenny@hotmail.co.uk

  Dear Alex,

  I bumped into Lewis. He said he was sorry for what he did, that when I told him about the Sight he should have helped me face my issues.

  God, I had a lucky escape.

  Inary

  From Alex.McIlvenny@hotmail.co.uk

  To Inary@gmail.com

  I wish it’d been me who bumped into him. Or even bumped him. Tosser . . .

  The idea of Alex bumping anyone made me laugh – he was so mellow, it was just impossible to imagine . . .

  Sorry, I have to go now.

  Speak later,

  Alex

  Oh. That was hasty. I wondered what he had to do, where he had to go. He was seeing Sharon, so better not ask. I could have kicked myself a million times for having been so blind. But I couldn’t turn the clock back.

  42

  Truth

  Alex

  She started crying. I couldn’t bear it.

  But I had to do it. Whether there would be something between Inary and me or not, Sharon deserved to be loved. For real.

  “I’m sorry . . .” I rubbed my face with my hands.

  “I can’t take this any more, Alex. I’ve been in love with you for years . . .”

  My heart skipped a beat in hearing her confession.

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  “Stop saying you’re sorry! It’s that Scottish girl, isn’t it? That Hillary, Inary, whatever her name is . . .” She forced me to turn around and look at her.

  “We’re not together.”

  “No, I know you aren’t! Because she doesn’t want you, and you keep going after her . . . You’re an idiot. And so am I. A complete and total idiot.”

  “Sharon . . .”

  “I’m handing in my resignation, Alex. I can’t see you every day any more. I owe this to myself . . .”

  “No, that’s not fair. I’ll go.”

  “For God’s sake, Alex. Let me make a decision for myself,” she said, and strode to the front door. She jerked it open for me.

  I nodded, my stomach in knots.

  “Go.”

  I made my way towards the door. I was crossing the threshold when she called me back.

  “Alex . . .”

  “Yes?” I said, turning. Maybe she’d have a word of forgiveness for me. Maybe I was hoping for absolution . . .

  “The owls. They were for her, weren’t they?”

  I nodded again.

  “Fuck off, Alex.”

  I’d earned that one. No forgiveness for me, not from Sharon.

  *

  The first thing I did as I stepped into the street was text Inary, the craving for her stronger than guilt or shame. Love had turned me into a liar, and it would not happen again. If Inary and I were not to be together, I would not mangle anyone else in the process, ever again.

  Sharon and I broke up, I said simply.

  The reply came as I was opening my car door. I’m sorry. Not what I was hoping for. But then, I was a fool, we’d established that already.

  That was it. I went home alone.

  43

  Drowning

  Inary

  I hurried towards Logan’s shop, a fragrant food parcel of sandwiches and brownies from La Piazza under my jacket, to keep them dry. My mind was reeling with thoughts of Alex. His text. He was free. But he hadn’t said anything more. Still, I couldn’t wait to tell him all about what I was about to do. Maybe then I’d have the courage to understand my own feelings.

  A soft spring rain was falling, the treacherous kind, the one that soaks you fast and subtly. I broke into a run, my hair dripping already. I was hatching a plan. I would answer her call; I would do what the girl in the loch was asking me. I would take her home.

  I ran through my options: go to the police and say that there was a body in the loch. How did I know? Never mind how.

  No, that wasn’t good. And how would we find her? It’s a big loch. The only way would be to try and get an idea of where the girl was, and then I needed the means to retrieve her. Diving equipment. Taylor. I couldn’t tell him the truth, of course. I would have to find some sort of complicated explanation as to how I knew there was a body somewhere underwater. But first, I had to find out where the girl was. And that meant going back and asking her.

  I couldn’t go alone. The effect she had on me – pure, unbridled panic, terror so strong I lost my bearings – that alone was enough to make me want to run away and never set foot on the loch shore again. I didn’t believe she wanted to hurt me – but she was desperate, and frightened like only a child could be. If she dragged me in the loch again, and in that state, so panicked that I couldn’t even swim – I would drown, whether she actually wanted to harm me or not.

  I would explain everything to Logan, and he could come with me to see if the girl could give me any sort of hint as to where her body lay. It was a long shot, but I had to try. Then we’d go to Taylor and . . . invent something.

  As I ran through the situation in my head, the constant refrain was, what am I doing? What am I messing with? I felt my heart speeding up its rhythm and panic slowly rising again. I ran faster, trying to sweat away my anxiety. The one single scariest thing of my whole existence – and I was going to offer myself to it, again. I knew now that she was just a little girl – but her spirit was so powerful, so full of anger and despair, it terrified me all the same.

  I barged into the shop, panting.

  “Hello. Here on your day off?” Logan greeted me. “Did you run all the way?”

  Very observant, I thought as my lungs were bursting. I handed him the food parcel.

  “Oh, cheers! Is this from La Piazza? Brownies as well. Sweet.”

  I strode to the counter and grabbed some paper and a pen. Something’s up, I wrote.

  “What’s wrong?” I could read the apprehension in his eyes.

  I took a deep breath. Now or never.

  Is anyone around?

  “No, why?”

  Private stuff to discuss. I need you to come to the loch with me.

  “Why?” he repeated.

  I took a deep breath and started scribbling as quickly as I could. Same as thirteen years ago. I saw a drowned girl. Very scary. She asked me to take her home. Please take me to the loch. I need to find her.

  Logan stared at me in silence for a few seconds. Even if his grandmother and sister had the Sight, it was still difficult for him to quite wrap his head round the whole thing. It would be difficult for anyone, I suppose.

  She’s terrifying. But she’s only little. Remember I told you about this girl I’ve seen a few times, Mary? It’s her sister, I wrote, and showed him the photograph I’d slipped in my bag.

  “Oh . . . This is her? How did she end up in the loch?”

  I don’t know. I don’t know her first name either. Just her second name: Gibson.

  “That’s what you saw that day Dad took you out?”

  Yes.

  “Where did you find this picture?”

  Torcuil.

  Logan took a deep breath. “Basically, Samara.”

  ? I do
odled.

  “Samara. The evil spirit child from The Ring.”

  She’s not evil!

  “She might not be evil, but you ended up in the loch. Twice. The first time you nearly didn’t come out, remember? Mum and Dad were beside themselves. And the second time . . . just as well Taylor was there!”

  That’s what happened to her. She fell in the loch and didn’t come out. There was nobody there to help her. Nobody.

  “Mmmm.”

  She’s asking me to take her home.

  “Yes, you said. As in . . . how? Jesus, I can’t even believe I’m talking about this . . . you’re asking me to go looking for a spirit who nearly drowned you twice! Do you even realise that?”

  Yes!!! I had thought things over. I wasn’t taking this lightly. I was about to get seriously angry, when he said something that softened me.

  “I just lost a sister. I’m not going to lose two, Inary.” His mouth was set in a thin line, and I knew he wouldn’t change his mind.

  I had no choice: I’d go on the loch alone.

  44

  Rose

  Inary

  My hands were shaking so hard I had to slip them into my jacket pockets. My excuse for Logan had been a visit to Auntie Mhairi for the afternoon. I hadn’t told Alex what I was doing – I’d kept the scariest bits of my encounters with Mary’s sister from him, because I didn’t want to worry him. Telling him I was going to go on the loch on my own, after what had happened there – twice – would have horrified him.

  When the loch appeared in the distance, I felt my knees giving way. But I had no choice. She needed me. Mary needed me. And it was that or endless nights of drowning in my dreams.

  The little peapod boat swayed as I got in. In spite of my fear, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful the loch was, its black, calm water reflecting the steely sky, and Ailsa in the middle, with its gnarled trees and bushes.