Page 29 of The Sky Beneath Us
Guess you’re out of reception or data or battery or something. Just wanted to let you know things haven’t worked out for Mara and me at Dad’s. We’re driving up to Granny’s. Going to be locking down at Ardtuath with herand Davy. All good. Hope you’re OK too and somewhere safe. Message us when you can xx
And then a brief and typically to-the-point one from Mara:
Dad’s a plonker. We love you, Mum.
While I have to admit to feeling a certain amount of grim satisfaction at that last one, I’m concerned that they have been hurt again by their father’s behaviour. I worry too whether they will be able to make the long drive north, presumably through a Britain that is rapidly shutting down, and I imagine roadblocks and police checks preventing people from travelling. I check the latest pandemic updates. The lockdown has taken effect as of today, so they should have made it just in time.
There’s a message from my mum too, which I read next:
Delighted to have the girls here with us. Don’t worry, will take good care of them. They were upset about their dad kicking them out, but it’s time they realised who he really is. Will be good to be locked down together and there’s plenty of space for them at the big house now it’s empty. It’s been way too quiet with the music school closed. They’re filling the rooms with their voices and their laughter. Hope you’re somewhere safe. Surely this lockdown can’t last more than a couple of weeks? Hugs from me, and Davy sends love too xx
I try calling Mum’s number and miraculously my call connects. Tears spring to my eyes at the sound of her voice. It feels extraordinary to be able to speak to her again at last, so effortlessly, at the touch of a button.
She reassures me she’s feeling much better now, only occasionally pausing when a tight-sounding cough forces her to do so. She answers my torrent of questions: yes, everyone else is fine; the girls are okay, don’t worry; they’re holed up in rooms at the music school while they, too, keep themselves separate for a period of quarantine to be on the safe side; she and Elspeth have been delivering food to them, leaving it at the door; they talk to each other from a safe distance; Davy’s been doing shopping runs in the Land Rover, not just for themselves but for anyone else in the community who can’t manage to get out; only one or two others seem to have the virus and they’re keeping themselves apart.
‘But now tell me your news,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe you’ve finally managed to get to Phortse! What’s it like?’
‘It’s everything we imagined it would be and more, Mum. I wish you were here too. I think I’ve found Violet’s family. We have so many Sherpa cousins! I’ll have to try to work out how we’re all connected and add it to the family tree. Best of all, her daughter’s still alive. Yes, Themi! She must be ninety now. She has a granddaughter called Pema living in the village too. I’m meeting them tomorrow. I’ll send you photos of everything. Don’t worry, I’m fine. You keep yourselves safe.’
‘That’s so exciting! And you sound good, Daisy,’ she says. ‘Your voice sounds stronger than it has done in ages. Listen,’ she continues, ‘I’m going to let you go. Call the girls while the internet’s working. I know they’d love to talk to you.’
After we hang up, I take a moment to breathe deeply and allow the feeling of relief at being able to speak to her – to reassure myself that they really are all right there – to sing through my veins. Then I call Sorcha’s number.
‘Mum? Are you there? Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Hang on a minute, I’ll call Mara. I’m putting you on speaker.’ I hear her shout for her sister, the sound of footsteps, a shriek when she tellsher, ‘It’s Mum – on the phone from Nepal!’ And then I hear both my girls’ voices and this time the tears don’t just spring to my eyes but run down my cheeks as well.
‘I’m so glad you’re there safe and sound,’ I say. ‘Sorry it didn’t work out in London. Want to tell me what happened?’
‘Honestly, Mum, this is a much better place to be locked down,’ Sorcha replies. ‘Granny and Grandad are so cool, and we have fresh air and a whole country mansion to ourselves, filled with musical instruments. Couldn’t be better.’
‘Dad was a total pain,’ Mara chips in. ‘After about twenty-four hours of nagging us about not putting our things away because Sorcha dared to leave her laptop on the kitchen table and I was trying to charge my phone on his charger, he told us Claire needs space and we take up too much of it.’
‘That’s not exactly how he put it,’ Sorcha interjects, ever the voice of reason.
‘Yeah, I know, but it’s basically what he was saying. Honestly, Mum, they made us feel so unwelcome. He was acting so different.’
‘Well, it’s a stressful time for everyone,’ I say. ‘Claire’s shows will be cancelled and there’ll be no work for him either. They’ll be worried about your brother Max as well. It won’t be good for a wee one being shut away from friends and fun now.’
‘Yeah, yeah, we know, Max is his son. But we’re his daughters. Honestly, we were talking about it in the car driving north – ’cause we just loaded up our things and headed for Granny’s as soon as she said we could come – and we were saying how we saw a completely different side to him. We can totally understand now why you split up from him. He’s such a control freak!’
Mara’s indignation makes me smile. It sounds a lot healthier than being hurt, even though my twins must be smarting a bit. ‘Well, I’m just glad you’re at Ardtuath now. It’s a good place to be locked down.’
‘Anyway,’ says Sorcha, ‘tell us all about where you are. Have you tracked down Violet?’
‘I have! Well, some of her family, anyway.’ I fill them in.
‘That’s, like, so bizarre that we have cousins who are Sherpas, living in the Himalayas,’ says Mara.
‘Actually, they’re called the Himalaya,’ Sorcha corrects her.
‘Whatever,’ her sister replies. ‘The Himalaya then. Anyhow, it’s totally cool, Mum.’
‘Send us photos when you can.’
‘We love you . . .’
My girls’ voices chime together as they talk over one another.
‘I love you too. Take care ...’ And then I realise I’m talking into thin air as the connection has dropped and they’ve gone.
