Daughter of Light and Shadows

by Anna McKerrow

  ‘Sure, of course.’ He nodded. ‘I can relate to that. My great-grandparents, they lived in Rawalpindi, in Punjab, in the 1940s. Then Partition happened. You know what Partition was, right?’

  ‘Overall, yes. But not in detail,’ Faye leant forward, listening.

  Rav sighed.

  ‘They don’t teach you it at school, why would you know? In Punjab, Muslims went to the west part that became Pakistan, Hindus and Sikhs went to the East. My great-grandfather was killed, protecting my great-grandmother from a gang. She had to move the whole family to the east side of the border after that, otherwise the whole family would have probably been murdered. She was a lone woman protecting three children; women were committing suicide rather than let the gangs get hold of them, if you know what I mean. It was the same on both sides of the border.’

  Faye shivered, and squeezed Rav’s hand. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘People were terrified. Hundreds of thousands – even millions – died just in Punjab, never mind the other states that got ripped apart. Families split, displaced, murdered; the scars are still there. We carry that with us.’

  ‘That must have been so terrible for your… was it your mum or dad’s family?’

  ‘Mum’s. My grandparents moved here in 1960; she was born here. But my Dadi – my grandmother – she remembered. She was afraid to go outside the door in England for a long time, Mum said. She thought it could happen any time, someone could break down the door, attack you for being the wrong person in the wrong place.’

  ‘That’s terrible.’ Faye imagined it and felt tears building behind her eyes.

  ‘I know. To be honest, I still feel it in places like this… a bit. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Nothing like as bad as them. And everyone’s great, for the most part, you know? We were really happy to get the contract for the concert up here when it came up – me and my business partner Roni, we were looking to expand north and everything. But I have to say, moving away from London…’ he trailed off and gave Faye a rueful smile. ‘People who are different in these small communities… let’s just say we stand out a lot.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that,’ Faye rolled her eyes, and Rav grinned.

  ‘Look at me, pouring my heart out to the village witch.’

  ‘That’s what I’m here for,’ she smiled back, liking their back-and-forth.

  ‘It’s nice to have someone to talk to, to be honest. It’s kind of stressful being away from the office, up here on my own. I’m supposed to recruit some temporary help but I haven’t got around to it yet. It’s all been pretty last minute – we put in the application for the festival last year and then suddenly, about a month ago, got this call.’

  Faye’s eyes flickered to the fireplace, remembering how she, Annie and Aisha had sat on the sheepskin rugs on the stone flagged floor, passing their poppet dolls through the incense smoke. Magic works in its own weird way, she remembered Annie saying.

  ‘I suppose that’s how it goes, sometimes,’ she said, guardedly.

  ‘Yeah. So, anyway. Anything I can do to help with your memorial thing, let me know. It’s important that people remember the difficult things, as well as the good.’

  ‘Some moral support at the meeting would definitely be very welcome.’ Faye’s hand was still on his, and she lifted it away awkwardly; he smiled, his eyes on hers.

  ‘More than happy to provide any support necessary,’ he continued to gaze meaningfully at her until she blushed and looked away.

  ‘If you think it’ll make any difference me being there of course.’ He yawned. ‘Sorry. I haven’t been sleeping properly.’ Rav rubbed his eyes, then flicked through the little spell book he was still holding. ‘Maybe I need one of these.’

  ‘Why not? What’s up?’ She warmed her palms on her faerie face mug; today it was a calming herbal tea blend. ‘Oh. D’you want a tea?’

  ‘Love one, thanks.’ Rav went to the hearth and sank into one of the easy chairs. ‘Is it okay if I sit here? Sorry, I should have asked. It just looks so comfy.’

  ‘It’s fine. That’s what they’re there for.’ Faye went into the little kitchen at the back of the shop and filled the kettle, flicking it on and looking in the cupboard for some biscuits.

  When she came out with a mug of tea and a packet of her favourite chocolate biscuits, Rav was immersed in the Scottish faerie lore book she’d got in a few weeks ago. She was surprised it hadn’t sold, but it would probably go when the tourists started drifting in for the summer. Most people who lived in Abercolme were well aware of the local myths.

  ‘So what’s wrong in your world?’ Faye settled into the chair opposite Rav and took a biscuit. He put the book down.

  ‘Oh, it’s weird. Mind you, I guess I wandered up because I thought you might understand, of all people.’ He looked down at his mug, embarrassed. ‘Well, and… I wanted to see you again, too, if I’m honest,’

  A flare of emotion caught in Faye’s stomach like a hare’s kick.

  ‘Oh.’ She didn’t know what else to say, and looked away. She wasn’t used to this kind of thing, though if Annie was here she’d roll her eyes and say, Faye, sweetheart, you’re a lovely looking lassie, and you’re a witch to boot. Men love that, or something to that effect.

  ‘Well, anyway,’ Rav continued, hurriedly. ‘I don’t know that many people here yet, so…’

  Faye felt immediately that she hadn’t responded in the way she should have. She should have flirted back – wasn’t that what people did? That was normal. She liked Rav; liked his quickness, his sense of humour. She liked that he had a kindness about him. His eyes were beautiful: dark and long-lashed. He was slim and tall, appealingly boyish; today he wore black-rimmed glasses and a t-shirt from an 80s rap band she dimly remembered hearing about, under a black hoodie.

  ‘Sorry, I…’ She didn’t know how to turn the conversation back so that she could respond differently – but even if she could, she didn’t know what she’d say.

  ‘It’s fine. Look, the thing is, don’t think I’m deranged or anything, but I think the house is haunted.’ He took a sip of the tea.

  ‘Haunted?’

  ‘I know. It’s mad. But ever since I moved in, there’s been these weird noises in the night. Running footsteps in the hall. Sounds of laughing. And when I go downstairs, there’s been a few times when the fridge door’s been left open and stuff pulled out. Food all over the floor.’

  ‘It’s not mad.’ Faye crunched her biscuit. ‘You know there have always been stories about that house. No-one ever stayed there long, not since it was built.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Remember, I told you at the beach that day?’

  ‘Did you? I don’t remember.’ He gazed into the hearth, frowning. ‘It’s scary, Faye. I mean, I’m embarrassed to say it, but I don’t want to sleep there right now.’

  ‘You don’t have to be embarrassed. These things happen all the time. Spirits that haven’t moved on – occasionally people with powers they don’t know they have, affecting their environments. The minister would probably do you an exorcism.’

  ‘Should I have an exorcism?’ Rav took a biscuit and dunked it in his tea.

  ‘You could do. But I’d be happy to come and have a look for you first. See if we can’t give the place a good cleanse. That might be all it needs.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘Why not? I can come and see, anyway. Take it from there.’

  ‘That would be great.’ Rav looked relieved. He sat back in his chair. ‘Honestly, Faye. I’m knackered as much as anything. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since I moved in.’

  She looked at the antique clock behind the counter; it was almost four.

  ‘Come on. Drink up. You can show me now,’ she said, taking another biscuit for the walk and going to get her coat.

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Sure, why not?’ She came back into the shop and started turning the lights off. ‘Real witches are better than novelty spell books, and you have a real w
itch at your disposal.’

  ‘I do?’ It was his turn to look wrong-footed; perhaps it wasn’t too late to let him know she liked him; she was just really bad at flirting.

  ‘Yeah.’ She held the door open for him, keys in hand. ‘What’re you waiting for?’

  ‘Nothing! I had no idea that witches had this kind of immediate response time. I mean, I’m going to have to rethink my next 999 call.’

  ‘I don’t come out for less than a level 3 haunting. Just so you know.’

  They walked companionably down the high street, towards the beach. Rav’s hand brushed hers as they walked, and Faye fought an impulse to take it. It felt natural to do so, but she cautioned herself to be careful. After all, though Moddie had never said it as such, the implication always seemed to Faye that if you loved a man, he would inevitably leave you at some point. If that was the case, it was smart to stay at a distance from them. Not that hand-holding was love, but it was confusing nonetheless.

  So she walked next to him, and wondered how anyone ever managed to fall in love, and what the sense of it all was.

  Chapter Ten

  The house was cold. That was the first thing she noticed, which was odd because the late afternoon light was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Faye hugged her coat around her; an old dusty-pink one of Moddie’s with a rounded collar and big pink buttons down the front. Faye liked it because it hung loose like a cape, and it had deep pockets for collecting stones and shells and feathers from the beach.

  ‘Sorry it’s cold. As much as I turn the heating up I just can’t get it warm in here.’ Rav ran his hand over one of the white-painted vintage radiators that sat against a wall of exposed brick. Most of the internal walls were glass with long blinds rolled up at the top, but there were a couple in that designer-styled exposed brick that gave it the feeling of a trendy loft apartment. He pulled his hand away. ‘It’s boiling hot to touch. Just won’t spread to the room. The perils of a house made of glass by the Scottish coast, I guess.’

  Faye frowned.

  ‘I’m not sure. I’d think that it was built to be energy efficient. Some kind of house of the future. It’s more likely that the cold is connected to the haunting.’ She walked into the steel and glass kitchen; it still looked unused. The cold was worse in there, and as soon as she walked in, she got a sense of being watched, and a prickling on her skin.

  ‘Connected to the haunting? You’re saying that like it is haunted.’

  ‘Something along those lines, yes.’

  ‘But you’ve only been here for three minutes. How can you be sure?’

  ‘What you told me isn’t normal. I didn’t have to come to the house to know you’re having some kind of supernatural disturbance.’

  ‘So why did you, then?’ Rav opened the fridge and got some milk out. ‘Coffee? Think I still have enough.’

  ‘Thanks. Because I don’t know exactly what the problem is without coming here. It could be anything. Old spirits attached to the house that need to be moved on. A poltergeist. A curse. A malfunctioning witch bottle.’

  ‘Witch bottle?’ he frowned.

  ‘An old folk custom. To protect your house, put rusty nails in a bottle, pee on them, close up the bottle and wedge it up the chimney,’

  ‘Nice.’ Rav raised an eyebrow as he spooned ground filter coffee from a packet into a silver cafetiere.

  ‘Or it could be you, sleepwalking. Night terrors.’

  ‘Well, I’ve never sleepwalked as far as I know.’ He poured hot water into the jug and let it stand.

  ‘Well, that probably rules normal reasons out, then, unless you’ve got foxes. Mind if I take a look around?’ She felt drawn to the glass hallway that ran down one side of the house, connecting the kitchen with the lounge that looked out to sea and three large bedrooms.

  ‘Go for it. I’ll come and find you.’

  Faye stepped into the glass corridor, and her world changed instantly.

  Instead of standing in a modern floor-to-ceiling glass-walled corridor, she was ankle-deep in a sea of grass. Small, twinkling lights and orbs, like a child’s blown bubbles, bounced in the air and rose and fell in anarchic fashion on the grass, which was long and green-blue, like the shifting colour of the sea.

  There was no glass on either side of her, but a metre or so away from where the outer edge of the house had been was a row of tall white stones, painted in blue spirals and other strange markings. Faye saw that they marked a path towards a radiant green-gold light just over the brow of the headland. To the left, the sea was still there but the muddy, dark sand of Black Sands Beach glowed white, as if it was lit by bright photographers’ lamps.

  She was not alone on the pathway; as she stood there, adjusting to the strangeness of the vision, she became aware that the grass held legions of small faerie creatures. Some of the ones in the grass were a little like the faeries she’d seen in the books Moddie read her as a child; tiny, winged creatures with petals for clothes and twigs in their hair. Some were half-caterpillar, half-fae; butterflies with faerie faces flew past her, and there were large, iridescent beetles.

  But there were also taller creatures that pushed past her; some were singing, dancing, laughing; many didn’t progress in a straight line but circled around her, pulling at her clothes. One, a bearded half-man, half-goat, tweaked her nose, and then, unexpectedly, her nipple, as he passed her.

  Some had a greenish skin; three faerie-women passed her on horseback with a procession of courtiers before and after them. They were beautiful, in draping, diaphanous garments, but their expressions were forbidding; one horse was black, one white, and one was blood red. Each of the horses had silver ribbons plaited into their long manes.

  Rav’s hand touched her on the shoulder, and she blinked. And as soon as she had, the grass disappeared under her feet and she was standing back in the long passageway.

  Faye could only stare through him as she tried to process what had just happened.

  ‘What?’ he gave her a strange look.

  ‘I… I just…’ She couldn’t find the words – any words – at that moment. She felt outside herself in a different way than she had before, even when doing magic.

  ‘It feels weird out here, doesn’t it? I knew you’d pick that up.’ He handed her a mug. Faye took a sip, instinctively, and then again as she felt the drink reconnect her to her body again.

  ‘I just… I wasn’t here. This is a faerie pathway.’ She pointed outside the house to the edge of the beach where scrubby grass gave way to the sand. ‘To about there, where the sand starts. It leads over the hill, there. To the headland.’

  ‘A what?’ Rav gave her a look.

  ‘A faerie road. I saw them. The fae, the spirits of nature. So many different kinds. This was all grass. It was… beautiful.’ She felt a wave of exhaustion come over her, and she slumped against the wall.

  ‘Wow. Okay, let’s get you to a seat.’ Rav took her coffee and guided her to the lounge where she fell back into a yellow leather sofa. He didn’t seem to have done much moving in except for a tall, wide box-shelved unit that held what looked like thousands of vinyl LPs.

  ‘So. I don’t really understand what you’re telling me. Faeries? I thought that was just made up for kids.’

  ‘Of course not. Few things that are talked about that much aren’t real. Even if they weren’t real to start with, they become it because of being so imagined. Magic 101,’ Faye snapped. ‘Don’t ask me to come here and solve your problems and then tell me you don’t believe what I’m saying. I’m the expert, you wanted my opinion. That’s my diagnosis.’

  ‘Wow. Testy, dude.’

  ‘You asked, I’m telling you.’

  ‘Faeries?’ he raised an eyebrow at her, questioningly.

  ‘Yes.’ Faye stared at him, unblinking.

  ‘But, like… and I’m not disrespecting you, Faye. Really. But, as far as I know, faeries are these little tiny winged things. Like the ones in the flowers. My sister had those books. C is for th
e Cinquefoil Fairy, D is for the Dandelion Fairy… It doesn’t feel like they’d be the ones trashing my kitchen and pounding the house so hard it sounds like an army passing through.’ Rav sat forward, awkwardly, on the orange leather easy chair facing her – classic single man décor, Faye thought briefly to herself – and put his coffee glass down on a packing crate that was positioned as a table between them.

  ‘You weren’t reading that book of faerie lore, then? Earlier, in the shop?’ She sighed and sat forward, wondering if she’d ever meet any man that she didn’t have to explain herself – and the natural world – to. They were always so disconnected from the real, textured life of nature under their feet.

  ‘I was flicking through it,’ he said, defensively.

  ‘Fine. So, basically, faerie is the realm of the spirits of nature. There are all kinds of faerie. Some tiny with wings. Some huge and terrible. There are spirits of the sea, of the rocks, of the plants, of ancient species that are from other periods of human development, and non-human time. When humans interact with them, as long as it’s respectfully, they tend to take their shape from the frame of human perception. Hence you get regional variations on the same thing: selkies, mermaids, kelpies are different riffs on a similar energy. A water spirit that appeared at different times to different people.’

  ‘So you’ve seen them before?’ He sat back a little, taking in what she was saying.

  ‘Only a couple of times, and nothing like that. They don’t like to be seen, as a rule. They don’t want to be disturbed by humans. Once, I was sitting on my rock out there…’ She pointed out to the beach. ‘And I got a sense there was someone else there. I saw what looked like a little girl dart behind one of the other big stones, but then, when I went to go and look, there was no-one there. I was the only one on the beach that whole time. No children ran on or off the beach.’

  ‘So… what you saw. It was like that?’