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Alfred spent the morning on his boat, line in hand.
The sea was a soothing balm to his nerves, and always had been. Today he’d told the seals he was there to think—he didn’t want them herding great schools of fish his way.
It had been so many years since his confrontation with Dyllis and Duncan. He’d long since decided he would never have that conversation with Myna. He’d always assumed that if Myna was to learn the truth, it would be from them, not him, but they’d passed into the next realm years earlier, and if they’d shared any of the truth with Myna, she’d never let on.
When Dyllis and Duncan had passed, Alfred had thought things too late. And how old was Myna now? Fifty or above, too old to be shocking with this information.
Too old for him, too, he thought with a grumble. What would this do to his heart, opening wounds he’d thought long since scarred over? Though he had to admit, the scars had already started to stretch with Ebba’s prodding.
In a way it was good. She’d always looked at him with such distrust. To have her open to him now she understood the truth was most definitely a blessing. But how to share that truth to Myna?
He felt a nibble on the end of his line and by habit gave a short sharp tug. The line pulled taut and with a seasoned movement Alfred pulled it back in, wrapping it round the reel as he pulled in something weighty. He was more than happy to see a good-sized cod on the end and dropped it into the bucket before baiting the hook and sending it back out again. If he was going to have this conversation, he’d feel better arriving with a couple of good-sized fish.
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‘She’s mine!’ Dyllis hissed the words, holding the baby close. Already Alfred could see the rash on the baby’s face, separated from her skin too soon, swaddled in human fabrics her little body wasn’t ready for.
‘She’s not yours, Dyllis. She belongs with the selkies.’ Alfred kept his voice low, for he didn’t want to scare the child.
‘And what do you care about it?’ Dyllis moved so the table stood between her and him. Her eyes narrowed. ‘The rumours are true, aren’t they? You’re friends with them.’
Alfred refused to acknowledge Dyllis’s words, but kept steady eye contact with her. He had to get the child back to Oulde.
He knew Dyllis was desperate; the whole village knew her struggles. And when she’d turned up with this baby it was clear where it had come from, though few but the fisherman openly acknowledged the selkies’ existence these days.
The fact that Dyllis had been desperate enough to kidnap one of their infants told him all he needed to know about her state of mind.
‘Have a think, Dyl.’ He kept his voice steady. ‘Have a think about what you’re doing. How would you feel if this were your baby—’
‘This is my baby!’
Alfred continued. ‘—and someone stole her from you?’
Dyllis clutched the baby closer.
‘They’re animals, Alfred. You know that. They just take our form sometimes. And we all know animals don’t feel for their children the same way people do.’
‘They’re more than animals, Dyllis. They ain’t no different from us.’
A movement at the door caused them both to turn. Duncan stood with the door open, sighed, and closed it behind him.
‘Alfred,’ he said with a nod.
‘Duncan.’
‘You’re here about the baby.’
‘I am.’
‘The fellas on the boat say you’ve been having relations with one of her kind.’ He nodded at the baby as he spoke.
Alfred winced at Duncan’s choice of words.
Dyllis’s head whipped back to look at him. ‘That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? It’s her mother you’re in bed with.’ Her eyes widened. ‘She’s yours, isn’t she.’
Alfred hesitated. Would any good come from sharing the truth? Duncan had been a good friend for many years. Perhaps it would help.
‘She is.’
Dyllis’s expression seemed to soften.
‘Her name’s Myna,’ he added.
‘Myna. I like that name. We might keep it.’ Dyllis peered down at the child in her arms. ‘She has your nose.’ Her tone mocked. ‘You should’ve taken the selkie’s skin. That’s how the tale goes, right? You take their skin, and they can’t leave. If you’d done that you’d still have your child.’
‘Give her back, Dyllis. Please.’
‘If that selkie beast was a proper mother I’d never have been able to take the child in the first place. Maybe you should be looking to her for neglect rather than me for caring! You won’t ever take this child from me now. She’s mine.’ Dyllis held the child closer.
‘A baby ought to be with its mother. She’s not even weaned!’
‘I can take care of a babe just fine, Alfred, with or without its mother’s milk,’ Dyllis interrupted. ‘And you can just wander off home now, and tell that creature her baby’s in safe hands.’
Alfred opened his mouth to speak but Dyllis spoke again. ‘And don’t be thinkin’ of comin’ and taking her. I’ve hidden the skin so well, none of you are gonna find it, and if you take her, I’ll destroy it.’
Alfred’s mouth closed, and Dyllis laughed. ‘They can’t live without their skins, can they? Even when they’re not wearing ‘em, there’s still a connection there. One can’t live without the other.’
Duncan tilted his head towards the door, and Alfred followed Duncan into the yard.
‘I had no idea the child were yours.’ Duncan shook his head. ‘I told her not to take it. I said it wasn’t a good idea.’ His eyes met Alfred’s. ‘She thought it were a gift from the sea. We’ve tried so hard, Alf. You’ve never seen the pain in a woman’s eyes month after month, every time her bleeding comes—’
‘No. But I’ve seen the pain in a woman’s eyes when her baby is taken.’
A flash of guilt crossed Duncan’s face. ‘Yeah, well. You know I’d help you if I could. But I’ve no idea where the skin is, she hid it even from me.’ He looked at Alfred again. ‘She dotes on it, Alf. She’ll raise it good. You know that. Best just accept what the tides have brought.’ He shrugged. ‘P’raps it’s like Dyl said, you should’ve taken her skin. You slept with an animal, and didn’t even bother makin’ her human, marryin’ her. A child ought to have two parents present, not one on the land and one in the sea.’
Duncan turned and went back inside. Alfred’s shoulders sagged as he turned and began the slow walk home.
They didn’t understand, either of them.
Oulde was no animal, and nor was she an object to possess. Alfred had refused to take her seal skin, even when she offered it. He knew he couldn’t keep her from her beloved sea, no matter her love for him. Salt water flowed through her veins, as oxygen flowed through his.
He didn’t know how to tell her he’d failed her, that he’d failed their child.
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Alfred set his cup of cold tea back in its saucer.
‘So, you see, I’m your father. I tried to get you back, as best I could. And you know I never forgot you. I always brought the best of my catch, to make sure you were fed properly, from the sea, like you ought to’ve been.’
He looked up from his tea.
Myna sat across from him, unmoving. Alfred didn’t know what to do. Should he wait a while? Give her a chance to absorb everything he’d said, to ask questions? Should he leave? Should he have never come in the first place?
He was about to stand when Myna looked up. Her eyes were wet.
‘Oh love, I’ve upset you. I shouldn’t’ve come.’
‘My mother? Do you...? Does she...?’ Myna shook her head.
‘Your mother loves you, Myna. She always has. She suffered so much after you were taken, and after all these years...’ Alfred sighed. ‘It’s painful for all of us, but if you want to meet her—’
‘I do.’ Myna’s eyes widened even as she spoke the words. ‘I mean, if it won’t be too strange, for her?’
Alfred shook his head, coughing to clear the lump in his throat.
‘She’d love that.’
‘You did the right thing, Alfred.’ Myna reached out a small cold hand to cover his larger one. ‘And I thank you for it. You kept our family sane, growing up, when you were the only one to visit. It means so much to me, to know you’ve been watching out for me all these years.’
