“Wow, this is not what I expected,” I chortled. “I don’t remember her house being so huge! Daisy lives here alone? Unreal!”
“See? I knew you’d like it here,” Mum seemed to explode in delight at my comment.
Finally opening the car door I got out, stretching my legs, feeling the relief in my leg muscles after the arduous journey.
I looked up. “It’s amazing!” I said aghast, and it was no exaggeration. I sucked in a breath of awe before I turned back to help my mum get the cases from the car. I had bought a lot of luggage, not wanting to be without any of my more personal possessions. The majority of my things had been shipped on ahead.
As my mother heaved out the last suitcase the white front door opened and my grandmother emerged. She was a tall sturdy lady with white short hair, cut into a tidy bob style. Her face was hardly wrinkled at all and it was kind, and clearly happy we had arrived. Funny, she was exactly as I had remembered; curiously I noted that she hadn’t aged much.
“Rose!” she exclaimed and came towards me with open arms. Her hug was warm and tight and I smelled a familiar floral fragrance on her blue silk blouse. She held my shoulders at arms length and gazed at me closely. I looked into her grey sparkly eyes which were the same clarity as my own.
“Just look at you!” she exclaimed again. “You’ve grown very beautiful. I’m so glad you’re here; we’re going to be great friends. And please call me Daisy. No more Grandma or Grandmother, that just make me feel old.”
She laughed as she talked and I noticed a slight cringe as she said the word ‘grandma’.
“Okay…Daisy,” I tried the words out, and they felt comfortable. I smiled. It was much easier than saying ‘grandma’ as I had always called her.
She let me go, moving to hug my mother but I noticed their welcome was cool, chilly almost. Neither smiled or seemed pleased to see one another. Kind of odd considering.
“Rose,” Daisy said. “Why don’t you go and find your room while I chat to your mother. Do you remember where it is? At the top of the stairs, turn left and it’s the last door. You have the garden view you so liked as a child. I thought you could keep the same room, I hope you like it.”
“Okay,” I replied, half wanting to stay but really wanting to check out the house and my room which would be my indefinite sanctuary.
I carried my bag and a small case through the porch to the hall area. Now this I remembered. Amy and I used to slide along this floor in our socks, again and again, to see who could slide the furthest. The black and white polished tiles hinted of old, leading directly to the wide stone central stairway which was older. In the corner to the left, beside the living room door, was an old grandfather clock, with its intricately carved door and carefully balanced pendulum which was still swinging. I had often stared at it as a child, trying to learn the roman numerals, instead of numbers, of the clock face and then jumping when the hour hand pointed north and the chime pealed out.
On the other side of the door was the matching lattice-door sideboard with the house phone atop and some notepaper. Across the hallway on the other side was a white marble statue of a woman. Whether she was Roman or Greek, I had no idea, but the stonemason had carved her beautifully in her flowing gown. Around her neck was a torc necklace, the ends were round and balancing on her collarbone. Her arms were by her side and one hand held a book with the letters HD carved ornately. I wondered whether she had some history with the house or whether Daisy had banally picked her up at an auction.
I headed up the stairway, along the corridor, passing other doors to my left while the huge windows on my right looked out onto the front garden and driveway. I could see my mother and Daisy, still deep in conversation. At the last door on the left I recollected the dark wood with polished brass handle, and it opened with a creak.
The room was much bigger than I thought, and ahead was the huge three panelled, almost floor to ceiling arched windows. The original stone work showed through the decorated room beautifully. It was like an old chapel. The light coloured curtains each side of the windows were tied back, hanging to the floor. I wasn’t a fan of curtains, preferring natural dark and light so I doubted they would be used much.
From the smell I could tell the walls had recently been painted, the pale yellow bringing colour and a luminous bright hue to the room. On the left wall I observed empty wooden shelves above a long desk similar to a work bench. There would be enough room for my computer and school books. On the right side of the room the large packing boxes were piled high against a bare wall – evidently my things had arrived.
It seemed odd at first but in the centre of the room and in front of the wide window was a wrought iron double bed. I quickly realised why it wasn’t pushed to the wall. I could lie in bed, propped up by the four pillows and stare at the glorious view ahead of me now. The hedges and fields looked like a quilt of gold’s and green’s disappearing over the horizon. I sat down for a moment gazing at the view. My previous houses had been on estates or cul-de-sacs. The most I knew of countryside was staying at Daisy’s through my holidays. I stared into the distance and then my vision lowered to the back garden.
Climbing flowers, trees and colourful shrubs had now been carefully planted down the sides of lawn. I wouldn’t have been exaggerating if I said it was the size of four tennis courts. At the end of the garden was a small cottage, which I didn’t recall. Surrounded by conifers to bar the view, the cottage looked no bigger than a summer house. There were no signs of anyone living there, and while the grey bricks looked old, the terracotta tiled roof shone new and clear of mildew and moss in the sunlight.
Around the entire perimeter of the garden and house, but somewhat at a distance, was the high solid wall. Beige in colour, its expanse carried in either direction as far as I could see. My mum had said that Daisy owned acres, so Daisy must own the land behind the wall too. There were no other houses in the view, so I had been right in my earlier assumptions. I was in the middle of nowhere. I moaned as my exciting social life I could have had ebbed away into an abyss. But then I cursed myself for the selfishness, remembering that at least I’d be safe.
I dumped my things quickly and headed back downstairs. Daisy and my mother were still talking by the car.
“So, how do you like it?” Daisy said.
“It’s lovely, thank you, Daisy,” I replied with polite sincerity.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be in the conservatory, Rose,” she said. She kissed my mother on the cheek and left us.
“Is everything all right?” I asked guardedly.
“Rose, I have to go,” my mother said quietly. “I’m driving straight to Heathrow Airport to meet your father, we’re flying this evening. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
I looked into her face seeing the same sadness, and tears stung my eyes. Her hug enveloped me and for a moment I wished to stay like this forever.
“Daisy will take care of you and I’m on the end of a phone whenever you need me. Please remember that,” she said.
I drew back; the tears had already slipped down my cheeks.
“This is really it then. When will I see you again?” I asked quietly, trying to control the trembling emotions in my voice.
“As soon as I can, I’ll come back.” She was trying to reassure me, but I knew that flights from the Middle East were not only long but pricey too. It wasn’t like jumping on a bus or a train.
And in that moment I accepted the sacrifice we were all making. I accepted the distance would not only be painful for me but for them also, and for Amy. I accepted that now I really was going to be on my own with a grandmother I barely knew, in a strange home and a strange new town, where I knew no-one really. I accepted it and grew strength from it.
I imagined my life as a small onion with layers being peeled away. Amy had been the first to say goodbye, one layer, shortly followed by my father, another layer. Now my mother was the final layer and I was left in the centre, small and vulnerable, and most of all, a
lone.
But I grew bold, brave and felt a surge of courage I didn’t know was there.
“We’ll all be okay, Mum, you’ll see,” I assured her. “And I’ll phone and email every day.”
She laughed and brushed my hair lightly with her fingers. “Make it every week, agreed?”
“Okay, I promise.” She noticed the difference in my attitude immediately.
“You’re a good girl, Rose. You’ve always been the strong one!” she smiled widely, relief in her gaze. She leaned forward and lightly kissed my forehead.
“Now, Rose, Listen to me carefully. Keep your secret safe, don’t use your gift if you don’t have to, and never use it outside the grounds, you don’t know who could be watching. Nobody outside our family must know. Only Daisy, but not anyone else, do you understand? Not yet. You are more special than you can ever imagine, sweetheart, but you have to stay hidden. Be careful with your friends, don’t trust anyone too much and call me any time you want, okay?” she whispered. “Do you understand what I’m saying, Rose?”
I nodded understanding her meaning and squeezed her hand as she pulled it out and away. I guess this was why staying with Daisy seemed to be the right choice. I was hidden away where no one could find me.
What everyone else outside my family doesn’t know is that I had been born different, a freak. I don’t know why or how but one day I would like to find out.
My eyesight was better than most, I could see perfectly and sometimes more, I could zoom into distant objects and clearly identify markings or colours. When my mum had given me her bracelet and said it would help me see better, I hadn’t understood her, but it wasn’t seeing with eyes she meant. I knew that much.
My hearing was more acute as was my sense of smell, but the remarkable thing about my gift was my ability to heal. Well, I called it healing but my dad called it ‘bringing back life’. Whatever the difference was I didn’t care. I practised alone sometimes with plants and flowers, patches of dead grass and small bushes that had been parched from lack of water. This was why I loved gardens so much, there was always something small that needed my help.
My mother had often told me that her pregnancy had been easy, no morning sickness, no cravings, not even any unsightly stretch marks. Her weight gain had been minimal so it had been a surprise when I was four weeks early. It was the only time when I had pained my mother and after two hours of laborious pushing I finally came out screaming for air and food.
From the beginning, my childhood had been illness free, and while the other school kids had weeks off for chicken pox or mumps I had never contracted anything. I didn’t know what it felt like to break a bone. Sure, I’d scratched and cut myself during falls or scrapes but the wounds healed quickly leaving no trace. In fact I didn’t recall ever catching a cold. When my family were stricken down with some ailment, usually the yearly flu epidemic, I often sat with them while they rested, holding their hands and they soon recovered within a few hours.
My parents first noticed these abilities when I was six. They sat with me and insisted I had to keep it secret. I was forbidden to tell anyone, or even help anyone. But what did a six year old know? To me it was all a game and I often slipped. Once, when I was eight, during school athletics a friend had been practising long jump. She landed in the sand pit oddly and while the teacher ran for the nearest phone I put my hands on her ankle and straightened it out. When the teacher returned, the girl carried on as normal, her leg completely recovered. The other girls who had crowded around the injured girl noticed nothing untoward, but the teacher phoned my dad later that afternoon. Soon after the incident Dad was offered another job so we had moved away from the area.
The only side effect with my gift was that I could harm with it too. Once Amy kept a pet rabbit, he was getting old and after a while he began to refuse food. Amy was sad; she knew he would die soon so while my family watched TV, I quietly slipped out into the garden to the rabbit hutch. I hoped my healing fingers would help to give him a few more years but at my first touch, it fell on its side and died. I cried in my room alone that night. When Amy found the dead rabbit she was so traumatised that we never owned another family pet. I never admitted openly to what I did and from that day I rarely used my gift to heal, except in a garden on plants or flowers. I couldn’t bear it if I hurt anything or anyone. One rabbit on my conscience was one thing. I knew hurting a person would be more painful that I could ever imagine.
I always knew that my gift, my ability came from my blood. Sometimes I could feel it pumping around my body so loudly it was almost deafening to my acute ears. Whenever I used my gift I closed my eyes and internally called on it, and then watched as the silvery grey tendrils flickered out from my fingers to wrap themselves around my subject, drawing the badness out, and expelling it into the air before I withdrew the power back inside. The sensation was nice initially, tingly almost, but pleasant. The badness often stung, barbed and raw, but the pain was worth it, and I was often awed by the beautiful aftermath.
So, here I was back in Warminster. I hugged my mum tightly before she got back into the car, and waved as she drove through the opening gates. I stood staring at the soon empty driveway and just for a fleeting moment wanted to run after the car, I was sure I could catch up with her. Speed was not a gift like the other things, I was just quick.
But my feet stayed where they were and I felt that courage again, like a buoyancy belt keeping me afloat. The courage that started in my toes and quickly rose through my shoulders and up through my head to the sky.
I took in a slow breath, tucking my copper hair behind my ears, before heading back inside the house to find Daisy.
Daisy called me from the conservatory at the back of the house. I was allowing my eyes to adjust from the intense light outside to the dark hallway. The last door on the left led me into the light and airy room. The dark wooden dining table was still on the left with a couple of book cases behind the door and a long settee looked inviting near the windowsills crammed with small cactus pots. The fabric of the curtains and settee cushions were a little dated with their huge flowery chintz patterns but I was glad to sit on something a little more comfortable than a car seat.
Daisy sat opposite in an armchair and on the table in-between was a tray of cheese sandwiches and two large mugs of Earl Grey tea. I preferred Camomile to Daisy’s favourite but right now I was that hungry and thirsty I would have drunk anything.
“How was the journey down?” Daisy picked up her cup and stared intently at me. I didn’t know whether to tell the truth or just gloss over it. I picked up a sandwich and nibbled around the edges.
“Okay, long and hot.”
Her next comment caught me off guard. “Your mother told me you were followed. Were you frightened?” she asked as she put down her cup back onto the table.
I thought back to the motorway when I had seen the first car. I had screamed at Mum and she floored the accelerator pedal in a second. Mum yelled at me “Are they still there?” and I yelled back “Yes, go faster,” while frantically checking behind left and right. The terrifying ordeal was etched in my memory and unlikely to disappear anytime soon.
“Yeah, we were. One car followed us onto the M6 just south of Sandbach, but we managed to lose them by tucking in front of a tanker lorry and getting onto the slip road to join the other motorway. They drove straight past and we didn’t see them again till the Birmingham junction. Mum outwitted them by swerving in and out of the traffic. And the other car followed us from the M4 at Bath. We had to speed up and change lanes a few times. They followed us to the Frome bypass but we lost them soon after.”
“Why do you think you were followed, Rose?” she asked.
This felt more like a Q&A rather than a grandmother/granddaughter chat. I couldn’t help feeling that she was testing me to see how much I would talk. I managed another bite of sandwich and swallowed it first before continuing.
“You know the answer to that, Daisy. My father has enemies. Some people ar
e after him because of his job and want to stop his research.”
I shrugged as if it was old news, nothing important.
“What do you know of your father’s occupation?” she shifted slightly in her chair, her plain expression giving away nothing.
“Well, he works as a geologist for the government, and travels around the world looking for rare metals. Some of the metals recovered are experimented with and used in nuclear weapons, bombs and guidance systems. It’s understandable that some people, some countries might want him to stop what he’s doing.”
I could feel my face redden slightly. I never talked about this to anyone. I was feeling more than a little awkward.
“What do you think about his work? Do you agree with what he does?”
I thought for a second. “Um, I don’t know. I suppose that there are those who might feel more secure to have them, the weapons I mean, and like the idea of using them as a threat, but apart from that, I’m not sure. Every country is different and we shouldn’t dictate what others can and can’t do, should we?” I said.
“Well, you certainly have an old head on those young shoulders!” she laughed. “I’m impressed. And because of his job you’ve had to move so often,” she said pointedly.
“Mostly, I suppose. If he gets a job in the north of England it wouldn’t be fair for him to travel so far to work every day. But if he was abroad it didn’t matter where we lived. Though it wasn’t safe to stay anywhere for too long. Why are you asking? You know this already,” I said.
She smiled and I relaxed a little. She absently lifted and brushed down the cover of the armchair arm.
“Of course I do, Rose, but I’m just seeing how truthful your parents have been with you, and if you knew the whole story. And I see that you do. Your parents have been fair. It wasn’t easy for them, you know. They wanted you to live a completely normal life, I know they hated dragging you and your sister around the country, and as long as you know that, then I’m happy.”
Elemental: The First Page 3
