“How was it?” Agota asked as I slung my bag on my bed and collapsed beside it.
I scrunched my face up. “It was nice but also weird.”
She sat up. “In what way?”
“I dunno. I can’t work this guy out. He’s really nice and handsome, smart and kind…” My voice trailed off as I remembered how nice he’d been to me in the hospital.
“I know that face. You really like him.”
“Yes but there are things about him that I don’t fully trust. I get the feeling that he’s hiding something from me and that’s never a good thing, where men are concerned.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, for starters, he pretty much insisted that I research my family ancestry but he wouldn’t give me a straight answer as to why. That’s pretty strange, right?”
Agota’s eyes moved from left to right. “Could he be a history buff?”
“No. It’s something else. It’s like he’s trying to protect me by giving me what he sees as helpful advice - but why is it helpful?”
I scratched my head and looked down at the floor. I knew it was no use talking to Agota when I’d only given her half the picture. I hadn’t told her the full extent of how I’d got my injuries the other day. She thought it was a straight forward fight. I hadn’t told her about any of the weird powers I’d apparently used. Nor had I told her about my visit by the witches or their claim that I was one of them. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her - far from it. I just didn’t think she’d believe me.
Agota looked at me. “Maybe you should just follow his advice. It can’t hurt. And if you do find out anything unusual, it might give you an insight into his motives.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”
“You could start by discussing it with Frank.” Agota’s eyes softened and sparkled, in the way that they always did when she said my brother’s name. “How is Frank anyway?” she asked.
I grinned. “Still single, if that’s what you’re really asking. Honestly, I don’t know why you don’t just ask him out.”
“I can’t do that. Then I’ll never know if he just went out with me because I was a sure thing. I want him to do the chasing, not the other way around.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’ll never happen. Women throw themselves at him, at the gym, all the time. Plus, he’s too busy working to think about dating.”
Her smile dropped. “I’ve got no chance, have I.”
“I wouldn’t say, ‘no chance’. Actually, I think he fancies you. He’s just lazy. What you need to do is amplify your assets when you’re next in his presence.”
Agota’s eyes dropped to half-mast. “Bree, you know English is my second language, please translate what you just said to regular speak.”
“I mean, dress in a way that no man can resist and flirt it up a storm, the next time he’s here.”
She looked skeptical. “And you think that’ll work?”
“Oh it’ll work. He just needs a little nudge.”
“A little nudge, right…” She smiled and did a little sigh. “That is one fine-looking brother you have there, Bree.”
I blinked at her. “He’s the same brother who used to sit on my face while farting.”
“He can sit on my face anytime.”
“Eurgh, enough already. Seriously, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.”
My phone started ringing and I grabbed my bag and looked at it. It was Frank. “Talk of the devil.” I gestured to Agota that I was going outside and answered as I walked to the balcony.
“Hey Frank, what’s up?”
“I was just calling to see how you’re feeling. How is your forearm?”
“Oh it’s healing nicely thanks. I might even be able to come back to training by Tuesday.”
“Don’t come back too soon. You know the increase in blood pressure, when you exercise, could open the wound back up again.”
“Yes, I know. I’ll take it easy when I do come back.” I paused for a second, thinking how best to phrase my next question. “Hey, Frank, do you know much about our family history? I mean, beyond Mam and Dad?”
“Um, a bit. There’s not much to tell really, nothing that you don’t already know. Why do you ask?”
“Was there anything unusual that you can remember, from our childhood, or anything strange, or different, about any of our family members?”
“Other than that we were as dysfunctional as all hell? Actually even that seems pretty normal, as far as I’ve learnt. Maybe not quite as dysfunctional as our family was but most people’s childhoods were fucked up in some way or other.”
“So you never saw anything that you couldn’t explain? Anything that seemed… I dunno, magical or supernatural?”
He paused. “Okay, now you’re creeping me out. What is this all about?”
I sighed. “Well, on Friday night, when I was helping that woman… I felt like I had more strength and power than I normally do. It’s hard to explain.”
“You were traumatised and suffered a head injury. You were probably just confused.”
“Yeah, maybe.” I murmured.
“Besides, if you want to know more about our family history, you’re asking the wrong person. You should speak to Aunt Siobhan. She knows tons of stuff about our past.”
Of course! Aunt Siobhan. Why hadn’t I thought of that. She was Mam’s sister. She and Uncle Paddy had stepped in and raised us after Mam died. She had a fascination with the old Irish ways and was known as a bit of a new age crackpot around where we’d grown up. Aunt Siobhan never met a piece of gossip she wasn’t all over. If anyone knew what was different about our family, it would be her.
“Thanks. That’s a good idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of her.”
“I don’t know how you can forget about her. The thought of her stew and dumplings gives me an actual physical feeling of loss, every time I think of it. I can almost taste it now. Mmm.”
“Aw Frank. You know you can come around here for stew and dumplings anytime. In fact, Agota makes a mean Hungarian ghoulash.”
He sucked his breath in sharply. “Beautiful and a good cook. When can I come over?”
“Anytime. You’re the one with the busy work schedule, you tell us.”
“Okay, I’ll check my diary and let you know. I better go, a client has just turned up. I’ll speak to you later, sis.”
“K. Bye.” I hung up the phone and walked through to our bedroom. Agota was still lying on her bed.
“You owe me big time.”
She sat up with a look of excitement. “He’s coming over?”
“He’s expecting Hungarian ghoulash so, if you don’t know how to make it, I suggest you learn, very quickly.”
She smirked. “I know how to make it. What kind of Hungarian woman can’t make ghoulash?”
“He’s going to look at his diary and let me know when.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’re the best Bree”
I held up one forefinger. “In return, I want to borrow your black top for my date with Nik tomorrow night.”
“The lacy one?”
I nodded, “yup.”
“It’s a deal.” She scrambled off the bed and walked over to where I stood, shaking my hand, as she looked me in the eyes.
Needing time to think, I walked out of the bedroom and went to put the kettle on. Now I just had to call Aunt Siobhan. But for some reason, I felt nervous about that. Deep down, I knew that Aunt Siobhan held the keys to all my family secrets. Some of them were painful and some of them were things I didn’t want to know and may not recover from. Was I really ready for whatever it was she would tell me?
I texted Aunt Siobhan and arranged a video call meeting. That evening, sitting on the sofa, sipping my tea, I listened to the call tone and watched the screen of my laptop, waiting for Aunt Siobhan to answer.
Her ruddy face came onto the screen, strawberry blonde hair flecked with grey and tied in a loose bun. “Bree! It’s so good to see you How are you?” She sounded so Irish. I hadn’t remembered her accent being so strong when I’d lived with her and Uncle Paddy. Did I sound like that to Londoners? Or was I already losing my accent?
“I’m well thanks Aunty, how are you and Uncle Paddy?” We had a loose arrangement that I would call on Sundays. By ‘loose’ I meant that I called about once every three weeks. But they were so nice, they never complained or made me feel guilty about living my life. Aunt Siobhan had told me that she understood I needed to explore the world on my own, flex my freedom, without them constantly butting it.
She smiled warmly. “Oh you know us. We’re keeping well enough. How is work?”
I bit my lip. “Well actually… I got fired. I’m looking for a new job.”
Her mouth fell open. “Fired? How did that happen?”
“It was that dickwad, Rafferty. I finally had enough and punched him on the nose.”
She cocked an eyebrow, she didn’t seem surprised. “He had it coming, he did. You’ll find another job soon, intelligent, hard working girl like yourself.”
“And that’s not all. I sort of had an incident on Friday night. I got into a fight with a man - I caught him trying to attack a woman. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up in hospital.”
Her hands flung to her face as she made a sharp intake of breath. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? If I’d known…”
I interrupted, eager not to get off the topic. “It’s okay, I wasn’t seriously hurt, a bit of concussion and a cut on my arm. The thing is - I fought pretty hard and I was just wondering if there’s any family history of… of special skills, advanced fighting and that kind of thing?”
She paused. “Well you know about your Dad.”
I felt the familiar knot of pain I always did when my Father’s violent tendencies were brought up. He was in prison for assault. It would’ve been bad enough if he’d restricted his abuse to strangers. But he hadn’t. My childhood memories were littered with occasions in which I was hiding in cupboards, too terrified to come out, as he beat my mother black and blue. Then there were the darker memories, ones in which I was on the receiving end and Frank was desperately trying to stand up for me. I’d never been scared of monsters growing up - because I had a real one living at home with me. I shook my head, forcing my thoughts back to the present. “Yeah, anything else?”
She stared at me, her eyes flitting left to right in a way that made my stomach feel uneasy.
“Aunt Siobhan - what is it?”
She couldn’t look me in the eyes. “Listen, if you want to learn more about your family, why don’t you come back and visit us sometime soon. I don’t think these kinds of conversations are best done over a video call.”
What did she mean ‘these kinds of conversations’? I challenged her. “I can’t afford to come right now. What is it you’re not telling me?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. It’s just a hunch, nothing more.”
“What?”
“I still think this should wait until…”
“Tell me!”
She took a deep breath. “Alright. After your brother was born, your Mam and Dad went through a rough patch.”
I humphed. “Some people would say their entire relationship was a ‘rough patch’.”
“I wouldn’t disagree but they weren’t always like that. When they first got together they were so in love. Anyway, I think your Dad was jealous of your brother’s place in your Mam’s heart. After Frank’s birth, your Dad started staying out later at the pub. Your Mam started spending time with other friends. She got close to one male friend in particular and I’ve always wondered if…”
The uneasy feeling in my stomach increased. Was this conversation going where I thought it was? I waited for her to finish the sentence.
“If she had an affair. In some ways you and Frank are very similar but I think that’s because you grew up together. In a lot of other ways, you’re very different. Frank has many talents but he doesn’t have your gifts of sight.”
Aunt Siobhan had always believed I had the gift of sight. I didn’t know why she thought this - I’d never told her about the lights that I saw. But she had a way of reading people. I sometimes wondered if she had the gift of sight herself. Although I’d never admitted what I saw, she’d always talked about my clairvoyance as if it was fact - as obvious as the sun rising at dawn and setting at dusk.
I wasn’t as surprised or hurt by her words as I would’ve expected. But then, I hated my father. To hear that he may not be my biological father was welcome news, so much the better if it turned out to be true. “Who was he?”
“Not someone you know. He left Dunmoney when you were very young. Maybe he left because he didn’t want to cause any further problems for your family.”
“Do you know how I can contact him?”
“I could probably find out if you want. But Sweetheart, what has brought on this sudden interest?”
I looked up at the ceiling. Should I just tell her? Since Mam died, she was the closest thing to a mother that I had and if I confided in anyone, it should be her. She’d also be the least likely to think I was crazy. She already believed in magic and witches and the whole shebang. She’d always believed in them. But something still made me hold back. So I told her as much of the truth as I felt comfortable with.
“You’ve always said I have gifts. Maybe I do. And if I do, I want to find out where they come from. I’m just trying to figure out who I really am.” What I didn’t tell her was the thing I really wanted to figure out.
Is Nik somehow involved in all of this?
I ended the video call and walked onto the balcony, still sipping my tea. Across the road, one of my neighbours stood on his balcony, smoking a cigarette. I’d seen him often, on that same balcony - he must be a chain smoker… or was he watching me? On the street below, a black cab was parked opposite. Was it my imagination or was that cab always parked there? With the driver always in it? I shook the thought from my head. Since the witches had visited, I was starting to imagine vampires everywhere. But as I thought this, I looked down and saw a figure, definitely watching me, from the shadows of a building. He was wearing a flatcap and as his face turned, the moonlight caught his features.
Is that Nik?!
I squinted and leant forward but the man scurried away. Had it been him? I dismissed the thought. It must be someone who looked similar. He’d already asked me out and I’d said yes. Why would he be watching my flat? As I went back inside, an uneasy feeling entered my stomach. Who was the real Dr Nik Chetty?