Kite Spirit (10 page)

‘Did you see those sweet little girls? They reminded me of you when you were a toddler. Sorry I was so long. People do like to chat around here. I can tell you, they’re a friendly
lot,’ Seth gabbled on as he started up the car.

Sometimes she sensed that Seth wished she was still that sweet little girl.

‘All right?’

Kite nodded. Maybe she’d been hasty to assume that she was completely in the minority here. She smiled as they passed a minibus with ‘Birmingham City Challenge’ written on the
side. It could have been an outing from her own school, with black and Asian kids and a few white kids in there too. Kite had the ridiculous impulse to wave at them. What was going on with her? At
home these thoughts would never have crossed her mind. She supposed it was because for the first time in her life she felt like an outsider. That’s how Dawn said she felt all the time in her
orchestra. Like she didn’t fit and maybe like she didn’t even have the right to be there.

They were winding along a country lane, following a sign that read: ‘To the heart of the Lakes’. Kite recognized some of the place names from streets she knew in London:
‘Coniston’, ‘Windermere’ and ‘Buttermere’.

Seth pulled over to switch on the satnav he’d bought especially for this journey and listened for a moment.

‘Does she seem bossy to you?’ he grimaced as the nasal-sounding satnav woman ordered them down narrower and narrower lanes. Seth insisted on reading out the names of all the villages
they passed in the early-evening sunshine.

‘Drybeck . . . Eskdale . . . Longsleddale . . . we’re in the land of the Celts and Vikings now!’ he declared.

To Kite these places sounded like they belonged to a different country and time.

Now they were entering ‘Swindale Common’ and had slowed to cross a cattle grid. When they were halfway over, a herd of sheep ambled in front of them, forcing them to stop. Seth wound
his window down.

‘Evening,’ he said to the sheep.

One of them stopped and looked at him idly for a second and then wandered on.

‘Smell that!’ he ordered Kite as he stuck his head out of his window and breathed in the fresh, clean mountain air.

Kite frowned. She gazed out of the window, her eyes following the path of a stream that ran alongside the road, scrambling over rocks and tumbling into deeper pools.

‘I’ve had enough of you “Boss-Nav”!’ Seth switched off the engine and cut her off mid-command. ‘I’m not about to be in the most beautiful place in the
world and be ordered about by you!’

He got out of the car, stretched and wandered down to the stream. A little way off some dishevelled-looking fell ponies stared at them before turning and trotting off. If Dawn was here, she
would probably have thought it was the most beautiful place in the world too.

‘A penny for them?’ Seth asked, peering into the car and holding out his hand.

‘You wouldn’t want to know.’

‘Well, we’re in the wilds now!’ Seth announced as Kite reluctantly followed him along the stream. She took off her shoes and dangled her feet in the icy
water. A flash of Kite’s dream in the car returned to her and she felt as if she’d been here before, desperately trying to gather up Dawn’s floating reeds. Seth lay down on a flat
rock and stared up at the fading blue sky.

‘Listen to the music of the mountain stream . . .’ he sang. ‘Scrap that! Corny, isn’t it?’

Kite nodded and half smiled. As she did, a rusty green tractor grumbled towards them along the track. A boy of about her age, maybe a bit older, was driving. Lydia in her tutor group had written
something random this morning on her Facebook page: ‘Congratulations, now you can drive a tractor! As if!’ Seth sat up and the boy nodded towards him and raised his hand in a friendly
wave, then his eyes moved over to Kite and a warm smile spread across his face as he continued to wave to her, as if he recognized her. His eyes sparkled grey like the slate of the mountain, his
sandy-blond hair was cut short, his skin all weather-tanned. Kite played with her hair, teasing the curls over her scar.

‘Looks like you caught someone’s eye.’ Seth grinned at her.

‘Shut up, Seth!’ Kite snapped. It was bad enough that, just for a moment, she had been so mesmerized by the boy. How could she even think about fancying someone so soon after . . .
How shallow did that make her? Kite felt the muscles tense and she forced herself to wipe the stupid smile from her face and purse her lips closed. This was a new feeling and the worst yet, when
just for a second she forgot what had happened. If Dawn had been here, that boy would have provided them with hours of gossip, wondering who he was, where he came from, which one of them would
stand a chance. If Dawn had been here, he might have smiled at her too, but now that would never happen. Seeing this boy made her understand why she felt so angry. Dawn had robbed Kite of sharing
the stories of her life – funny stories, sad stories, love stories, predictable stories, mistakes and successes with her best friend. Dawn’s was a story not even half written.

‘Seriously though, I think this place is going to be good for both of us.’ Seth sighed with pleasure. There it was again, his favourite topic – the healing power of the
countryside.

‘I just wish we could have come here with your Grandma Hannah.’

Kite had only been vaguely listening when Seth had started talking about tracing his family history, but now she realized how revved up about it he really was. At least if he gets caught up in
that he might leave me alone, she thought as she stood up and meandered along the stream, using her hands to steady herself over the uneven boulders. If Miss Choulty was here she would be waxing
lyrical about this glacial scenery – rocks and boulders deposited everywhere in the ice melt. What was it she always said? ‘Landscape is living history.’

Kite came to a rock large enough to sit on, climbed up and stared into a deep pool of water. Tiny golden fish gathered in its mossy depths, glistening in the sun, like millions of coloured
pixels. Then suddenly they were shoaling together, gathering into a shape she recognized as Dawn’s face. The image of her friend was so accurate Kite felt she could reach out and touch her
fine auburn hair as it floated under the water. Her face shone white and clear, and she smiled her gentle smile at Kite with her soft hazel eyes that reflected colours off the moss beneath her.
Kite held her breath. Her heart raced with pure joy to see Dawn again so close. This must be what Dawn wanted too, to find a way of explaining what had happened. She reached out to her, down into
the water, and the hundreds of tiny fish scattered in every direction, making her stumble backwards as a long shadow fell across the empty pool.

‘We’d better get back to Boss-Nav if we’re to arrive before dark!’

As Seth held out his hand to help her back on to the bank, the ground spun under her so that she felt as if she was about to pass out.

‘Steady!’ Seth grabbed her arm and pulled her to safety. ‘You hardly touched your lunch. You’ve got to try to eat more,’ he muttered as he walked her slowly back to
the car.

Now here they were, back at the stream, in the exact same place they’d been sitting half an hour before. There was no denying the fact that they’d been driving
around in circles.

‘Make a U-turn now!’

‘That’s back the way we just came. Some help you are!’ Seth slammed his hand flat against the satnav. ‘Have they not heard of street signs here?’

‘There aren’t any streets.’

A small flock of sheep approached the car, the one in front bleating loudly.

‘OK, worth a try! Know the way to Mirror Falls?’ Seth asked the vacant-looking ewe.

‘Don’t be an idiot!’

‘At least this idiot can still make you laugh!’

Kite felt the muscles tense and her smile disappear as she forced herself to purse her lips closed. How could she laugh when Dawn was dead? The distorted sound of her own laughter echoed in her
ears.

The ewe surveyed them with its docile black eyes, opened its mouth and appeared to yawn.

‘Guess not! We should have asked that boy on the tractor.’

At the mention of him Kite felt the heat of embarrassment rise to her face.

‘We could always turn around and head to that little pub we passed back there. They should know where it is.’

They heard it before they saw it. The sheep scattered in all directions at the first bark. A black sheepdog with a white flash came bounding towards them, ignoring the sheep and heading straight
for Kite’s open door. It laid its paws on her lap and flattened its head against her arm, panting contentedly.

‘Where did
you
come from?’ Kite stroked the dog’s head.

Seth pointed further up the river to where a woman carrying a gnarled piece of driftwood for a walking stick slowly made her way towards them. Her coarse greying hair was pulled back into a
severe ponytail, the taut strands drawn so tight over her ears that it made Kite’s own scalp sting. She was wearing walking boots, trousers, a cheesecloth blouse and a waistcoat. In her right
hand she carried a heavy-looking hessian sack. As she came closer Seth raised his hand in a friendly greeting and called out to her. Her blank expression did not change for a moment.

‘Come away!’ Her dog obediently leaped back from the car and returned to her side. Instead of moving closer, she stood stock still, so that Seth had to project his voice to be
heard.

‘We’re looking for Mirror Falls,’ he called over to her.

Still she did not approach.

‘Take the track to where the land rises up there.’ The woman pointed to a narrow path they had ruled out as hardly being wide enough for the car. ‘There’s a steep climb
after that. Follow the track to the end – you can’t miss it.’ Her voice was clipped and sharp and carried across the land. Then unexpectedly she added, ‘I’m going that
way. I can show you if you want.’ Her voice was still expressionless as she finally came towards them. ‘As long as you don’t mind Bardsey here.’ The dog’s ears pricked
up at the sound of his name.

‘Seems like a friendly soul!’ Seth smiled, patting the dog’s head as it offered him his paw.

‘Down, Bardsey!’ she ordered. ‘He’s still a puppy. I’m training him!’ Her mouth betrayed a glimmer of a smile for the first time as Bardsey obediently
returned to her side. Her arms rested firmly on her stick as she took the last steps towards the car and looked inside. She was not as old as Kite had first thought. Maybe Grandma Grace’s
age, in her sixties. Her skin was clear and unlined, not a face that had been exposed to the weather all its life. Only her blue-grey eyes seemed to fit with the mountain slate. She stared at Kite,
and as she did her tight, closed expression shifted and a look of terrible sadness came over her. As she looked back into the woman’s eyes Kite had the strangest sensation that this woman
could see into her and was reading what was happening inside her. Then, dropping her driftwood stick and placing her hand on Kite’s arm, she said the oddest thing: ‘I’m sorry. I
won’t intrude. I hope you find your way.’ She turned and strode powerfully away carrying her hessian sack and forgetting her walking stick altogether.

‘There’s plenty of room, really,’ Seth called to her, but she ignored him and carried on her way. Kite wondered why she needed the stick at all.

‘Come away, Bardsey!’ she instructed in a firmer voice than before, and the dog picked up her stick, ran over and offered it to her before falling back in line at her heels.

Seth shrugged. ‘Something I said?’

Kite lay down on the back seat and closed her eyes. Her mind was full of dreams and what could she call them . . . visions? Hallucinations? Dawn’s grave, the Angel of the North,
Dawn’s reeds floating in the water, the giant carrying Dawn to safety, Dawn’s face in the rock pool, the farm boy and now this crazy old woman. Kite raised her hand to her neck and held
on to her St Christopher. She would have to get a hold of herself if she wasn’t to go mad. She took a deep breath. She would be better when she’d slept more.

‘Come on; don’t give up on us now!’ Seth urged the labouring car up the impossibly narrow track. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t rain, or this will turn into a
river!’

As they passed the woman and her dog, she peered into the car. Something in the hessian sack she was carrying shifted. Whatever it was, it was the size of a large cat.

Kite shivered and rubbed her fingers over her St Christopher. Maybe her sleep-deprived mind was playing tricks on her, conjuring up all these strange images in its attempt to make sense of what
had happened to Dawn. For the first time in her life she wished that she believed in something. She wished that Ruby had forced her to accompany her to church every week to sing in the choir and
pray. Maybe if Kite could believe that Dawn had gone to a better place, then she would find a way to accept what Dawn had done, forgive her even. She would love to believe that Dawn’s spirit
was now set free into a peaceful haven, beautiful beyond human understanding. But the vision of Dawn’s pitiful grave kept returning to her. Out of all the feelings she had about Dawn, it was
the guilt that she hadn’t been able to help her best friend that was eating her up, feeding off her so that she felt all shrivelled up inside.

‘Come on! You can make it!’ urged Seth as their car spluttered up the hill. ‘Good job we’re all stocked up on food! I would have liked to see the place
in the light though,’ he complained as they bumped along the final stretch of track. The light was fading fast as the courtyard and Mirror Falls came into view. The place was bathed in an
eerie pink light, making the surrounding trees and the outline of the single-storey glass building resemble an etching. It appeared to Kite like an enormous glass barge jutting off the landscape,
or perhaps a giant icicle.

‘I’m feeling the pressure now,’ gasped Seth. ‘Sid’s obviously expecting me to produce something completely original, sending me here!’

The sound of the waterfall was deafening. Kite vaguely remembered Seth saying something about it being directly under the building, but she’d had no idea what to expect. She opened the car
window all the way down to let in the thunderous noise that seemed powerful enough to block out her thoughts. She felt as if she had entered some sort of parallel reality.