Spirit Part Six.

‘Have you been playing tricks on your sister again Jack’ Sophie enquired sternly.

‘It wasn’t me, you’re always blaming me for stuff, I’ve been right here on my game’ Jack shouted at his mother.

‘It’s not as if you haven’t got previous for tormenting your sister young man and don’t shout at me or you’ll get what for’ railed Sophie. In her heart that she knew it couldn’t have been jack. He had been playing on his game all morning but she was at a loss to explain it. Perhaps Lily really did have serious mental health problems.

‘I’m sorry Mum, I’m just sick of getting the blame for everything, I have been playing my game, honest’.

 Sophie let out a weary sigh,’ yes I know you have love, there must be some other explanation then.’ Turning to Lily she said ‘perhaps one of your friends wrote it when you were playing in the bedroom. Perhaps the wind blew it from out under the bed.’

‘I don’t remember any of my friends doing it’ replied Lily racking her brains to think.

‘Well maybe you didn’t notice’ let’s go and see if your window’s open.

Sophie and Lily made their way upstairs to the bedroom and opened the door. They stood frozen in the doorway staring at the paper and crayons strewn over the floor and the ornaments scattered around the room.

‘Lily, go downstairs and sit with your brother for a bit, I’ll be down in second’ Sophie directed her daughter. She straightened her back, took a deep breath and stepped into the room to start tidying up. She had to admit she was spooked. Sophie checked the window and found it securely closed, then checked inside the cupboards and under the bed, she began to gather the crayons and paper from the floor, perhaps I’ll take the kids out for a Macdonald’s in a bit and get Simon to come home, this is getting out of hand she thought to herself. Spirit lifted herself off the bed and drifted out through the open door and down the stairs.

Lily sat on the floor next to her brother, she really needed him to be big and brave now.

Jack looked at her, put his controller down and punched her in the leg, ‘I’m so going to get you, you little shit for getting me in trouble with Mum. Dads’ right, all she does is moan and it’s all your fault’. He gave her another swift hard punch in the thigh trying to give her a dead leg and turned back to his game. ‘Don’t sit near me, you stink.’

‘Please Jack don’t be mean, not now, I’m frightened’ whimpered Lily clutching her leg.

He reached out and pinched her arm ‘well crawl off somewhere and die then I don’t want you here disturbing my game.’

She got up from the floor and sat on the sofa just out of arms reach.

That’s not far enough you stupid cow, and don’t think I’ve finished with you yet, you just wait till I get you alone.

‘Don’t Jack, don’t be like that, why can’t you be nice for once? I’ve never done anything to you.’

‘Yes you have, just by being alive you fuckwit.’

‘Don’t swear, I’ll tell Mum,

‘No you won’t’ hissed Jack under his breath ‘or I’ll wait till your asleep and cut all your hair off and make you eat it’ 

‘You leave my hair alone’ said Lily curling herself up into a ball on the sofa.

Sophie came smartly down the stairs and picked up the phone calling through to the lounge, ‘Jack, look after your sister’.

‘Will do Mum’ he called back, then he looked at Lily and soundlessly mouthed the words ‘fuck off and die bitch’ at her while Lily buried her head in a cushion.

‘Hello, Simon? It’s me’ said Sophie into the phone ‘I don’t care if you’re busy this is important, I need you to come home, I’m really worried about Lily… No I can’t deal with it and no it won’t wait till the weekend. I think there’s something seriously wrong with her; I think she needs to see a doctor. Sophie was becoming furious now and she was shouting into the phone ‘and what am I supposed to do with Jack then… Oh don’t bother, your fucking useless’ She slammed the phone down onto its cradle, breathing heavily and trying to control her inflamed temper. ‘Bastard’ she mumbled under her breath wiping a tear of frustration out of her eye. She took a deep breath, composed herself with a little shake of the head and picked up the phone again.

‘Hello Mum it’s me, I’m going to bring the kids over in a bit, is that all right? I need to have a chat with you. Okay see you then.’

She put the phone down, made herself smile for the benefit of her children and walked through to the lounge,

‘How about we go to Macdonald’s shortly and go and see Nanny, would you guys like that? ‘Sophie asked.

‘Yeah’ both children answered enthusiastically.

‘Cool, I just have to hang out the washing and then we can get going.’

Sophie gave the children a big grin and walked off to the kitchen. She took the sheets and pillowcases out of the washing machine and placed them into the plastic laundry- basket. She rested the basket on her hip, picked up the peg bag with her free hand and headed into the rear garden leaving the door open behind her. What a lovely sunny day she thought as she placed the basket on the ground next to the rotary clothes line and started to peg out the sheets.

Jack had listened to his mum in the kitchen and heard her footsteps go out the back door into the garden. He dropped his game controller and in one swift movement leapt up of the floor and onto the sofa. Lily just saw him coming out of the corner of her eye but she didn’t move fast enough. He pounced on her, grabbed her arm in his meaty hands and gave her a Chinese burn.

‘Don’t you dare scream shitbag’ he whispered at her through clenched teeth, his face deformed with hate and spite. He put all his strength into twisting her naked flesh between his strong fingers until she screamed with the pain.

The breath of air that used to be Fabienne looked on from the corner of the lounge boiling with rage. She had hoped for a kind, big brother for Lily, not a bad tempered, spiteful bully like this boy.  She felt the anger swelling inside her as she thought of all the evil she had seen committed by men who were probably just like this boy when they were young. Men like the hateful, twisted liars who had killed her family. A red mist overtook her and she raced across the room, her rage spilling over. She looked straight into Jacks’ red, screwed- up face, gathered all her energy and stabbed him in the eyes with fingers made of air. Jack screamed with the agony and brought his hands up to shield his face but it was too late, his world had gone forever dark and he would never see again. Lily struggled out from underneath him and stood watching as if turned to stone by the shock. Sophie raced in from the garden at the sounds of Jacks scream. She ran to the sofa swept Jack up in her arms holding him tight to her

‘What’s the matter baby what’s the matter’ she pleaded as Jacks screams rang round the room’  she pulled his hands away from his face and let out long wail as she saw his burnt out eyes.

‘Lily, call an ambulance quick don’t just stand there’ she shouted at her daughter but Lily didn’t move, just stood there, frozen to the spot, her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Spirit slid through the air and came to a halt just in front of Lily’s shock ridden face. She felt the weight of her loneliness fall onto her as if the air were heavy with it.  She had wanted to be friends with this little girl who could have been her sister but it wasn’t to be. Was she fated to carry her loneliness with no respite forever? Spirit looked deep into Lily’s hazel eyes and, just for a fraction of a moment, thought she saw her own reflection in the dark irises. Perhaps in some indefinable way Lily had known she was there all along. She said her goodbyes as her twin stood rigid and dumb with shock, then she reached out a fingertip of air and gently touched Lily’s hair. A long grey streak appeared in the chestnut tresses from the crown of her small head to the tip. With a sigh that carried all the hopelessness of the world Spirit propelled herself towards the kitchen and out through the open back door with Jack’s screams and Sophie’s shouts following her into the daylight. What a lovely day the thing that used to be Fabienne De Savauterre thought as she let the wind carry her away, she didn’t mind sunny days to much.

                * That's your lot, thanks for reading and all your comments* 

                                            Steve.

Spirit: Part Five.

 Spirit tried to remember the day she had been condemned. She remembered her Mama and Papa, scared and fearful, their faces showing the worry and strain of things Fabienne didn’t understand. She remembered being told that she couldn’t trust the servants anymore, even the ones that had nursed her since she was a baby because things had changed and they might do her harm. She couldn’t understand and her parents didn’t explain it.  She could sense a dark mood in the city when she travelled through it. Once, the poor people had been friendly and treated her brother and her like a prince and princess. Now they had become sullen and looked at her in a way she didn’t like. In truth, it had scared her and she didn’t mind when Papa said they shouldn’t go out any more. Then the rebels arrived at the gates. Papa had called it a siege when she had heard him talking with the other grown- ups. All she knew was that she was hungry and they didn’t seem to have much of anything anymore.  Most of the servants had disappeared so she and Benoir had to do everything for themselves. Mama seemed to be crying all the time and Papa refused to talk, his face became ashen and grey. She woke one day to hear explosions and shouts as the rebels tore down the defensive walls demanding to be let in. She had run to Benoir’s room and found him cowering under his blankets shaking with fear. She had climbed into the bed and folded her arms around him trying to hide the terror she was feeling herself. Several days later Papa told them rebels had been allowed in to the city by the authorities.  Spirit remembered that her father had come to her room, His eyes empty of their usual genial good humour, his face grim. He had sat her down, held her by the shoulders and told her what she must do then made her promise she would carry out her instructions when the time came. He had told her that a fate worse than all her nightmares added together would befall her and Benoir if she didn’t follow his direction. He had frightened her so badly with his threat of dire consequences that she reluctantly agreed. Then, he had slipped a small, brown bottle into her dress pocket and gave her such a fierce embrace she thought she would suffocate.

The men came for them that night. She was woken by deafening banging on the front door as if all the demons from hell were trying to gain entry. She heard the yelling of the crazed mob outside her window and the smash of glass as a large stone came crashing through showering her with splinters. She heard her father shouting though the wooden door telling the mob to go away and threatening to shoot any man who crossed the threshold. Her mother’s high pitched wail of despair cut through the roar of the mob.  She threw the covers back, leapt out of bed and raced to Benoir’s room exactly as Papa had said. She heard the wood splinter as the front door gave way and the angry shouts and cries as the mob poured into the house. Her father’s pistol fired once then his shouts were lost in the pandemonium. She had found Benoir hiding in his cupboard behind the coats, crying silently with tears streaming down his face trying to make himself as small as possible. She climbed into the cupboard with him and closed the door behind as pounding feet came rushing up the stairs. She held him close and pulled out the bottle from the pocket in her nightshirt and, exactly as Papa had said, she made him drink some of the liquid from the bottle. She could hear the shouts and running feet in her room now and some more footsteps thundering up the landing towards their hiding place. She took a long draught of the evil smelling thick brown liquid herself just like Papa said, then she felt Benoir convulse beside her and looked into his shocked, startled face.

The memories of what happened next had faded over the ages but she thought she remembered standing in the corner of the room watching the men pull their still bodies out of cupboard and dump them in the middle of the floor. There were shouts of fire, fire and smoke began to drift along the landing. The rebels fled from the room and down the stairs running for their lives leaving the bodies of brother and sister to burn in the flames. She vaguely remembered wandering the streets of Lyon frightened and confused, then discovering that her parents had not been killed but captured. She attended the mock trial where her parents were accused of all kinds of jumped-up, ridiculous crimes and treasonous activities. They were found guilty and sentenced to death despite there being no evidence put forward by the prosecution. There were so many of the townspeople found guilty of fabricated crime that the rebels took to shooting them as it was quicker than the guillotine. There were two hundred people executed that day including Fabienne’s parents. She had watched them take their place against the wall in front of the firing squad but had turned away at the last moment. She couldn’t watch them die.

She had been appalled and horrified by what happened next to the orphans and dispossessed people. She had seen the most horrendous atrocities carried out by others who should know better. She knew in her heart of hearts that her father had been right, that she and her brother would be better off dead than suffer their fates at the hands of these monsters. But she hadn’t died, not completely. Instead she was doomed to wander the earth carrying an almost unbearable burden of grief, sorrow and loneliness.  Better that she had lived and suffered a life of poverty, fear and injustice, at least there would have been an end to it. She didn’t know why she hadn’t passed over to where ever it was you were supposed to go. She suspected it was because her father’s plan had unwittingly made her a murderer. Perhaps there is no place for murderers in heaven. Sometimes she became violently angry at her father for his stupid plan and condemning her to this existence. Sometimes she became angry at herself for being brave enough to carry out her father’s wishes.  Occasionally she raged into the empty air and other times she wept into, neither made any difference.

                                         Part Six next week.

Spirit; Part Four.

Lily finished her cereal, put the plate in the sink and went back upstairs. Spirit tagged along behind and drifted into the bedroom. Lily picked up her dolls and began to play. She pretended one of them was her school teacher, Miss Mulcaster, and the others were her classmates. Lily chanted her two times tables at the plastic figures while spirit moved closer wishing she could join in.

‘Lily’ Sophie called from the bathroom, ‘come and have a wash’

Lily ran out of the bedroom calling ‘coming.’ Spirit picked up one of the dolls in her fingers made of air and pretended it was an imperious queen passing death sentences on the men who had killed her family. She made it stride up and down between the other dolls barking orders and dispensing justice. Spirit heard Lily running back from the bathroom and reluctantly let the doll fall back to the ground. Lily charged back in the bedroom, picked herself out some denim jeans and white jumper with a picture of a friendly looking tiger on the front from the clothes crammed into her wardrobe and dressed herself before coming back to resume her game. She jumped down into her previous position and stopped, a look of confusion crossed her face. Her expression changed to one of admonishment and she waved her finger at the dolls.

‘You guys have been moving about, you must stay still when I’m not here ‘cause you’ll ruin the game. No more moving about’ she told the lifeless plastic figures sternly. Spirit had been to school, she could play this game she thought to herself as she hovered opposite Lily longing to join in.

‘Right class what’s three times three’ Lily said aloud in her best school teacher voice.

‘It’s 9, it’s 9 shouted Spirit although no sound came out and without thinking she grabbed one of the dolls and moved it up and down imitating a child eager to answer teacher’s question. Spirit realised what she had done, dropped the doll as if it was red hot and looked at her playmates stunned face . The little girl with the long dark hair stared immobile at the doll for a handful of heartbeats, then jumped up and fled the room, slamming the door behind her.  The wisp of air was overcome with sadness, she hadn’t meant to scare her friend, she had acted rashly and would need to be more careful in her approach next time.  Lily came back into the room with her mother in tow.

‘Which one was it darling’ said her mother, Lily pointed to the doll that had seemingly sprung to life and Sophie indulgently picked it up and examined it, turned it over in her hands then gave it to Lily who took it in her little fingers and looked at it doubtfully.

‘Look, there’s nothing to be afraid of sweetie, it’s just a doll and it can’t move on its own, perhaps it was the wind’ said Sophie to her daughter. Lily looked unconvinced but kept quiet.

‘Play nicely now honey, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.’ Sophie left the room and Lily plonked herself back on to the pink carpet warily resuming her game, the doll that had moved lay untouched on the floor, excluded for the time being.

Spirit looked on with a mixture of excitement and frustration, she was still itching to join in the game but she needed to communicate with her friend first to tell her she had nothing to fear. She had an idea that should work but needed time alone in the bedroom to execute it. A short time later an opportunity presented itself.

‘Lily, come to the top of the stairs darling please’ Lily dropped her toys and ran out to answer her mother’s summons. Spirit seized her chance and went to the paper and crayons stashed under the bed. She choose a big, bright orange crayon because it looked like a happy colour and with great effort she scrawled the word ‘ Bonjour’ on a sheet of paper, then added a smiley face for good measure. She could hear Lily and her mother having a conversation from opposite ends of the staircase about Lily’s homework for the school holidays, chiefly about when the “young madam” was going to attempt it, then she heard Lily descending the stairs to claim the bribe that she was being offered to at least start her homework project. Spirit moved the paper and placed it in the centre of the game Lily had been playing feeling quite pleased with herself. She was weary from effort but excited and apprehensive too as she waited for Lily’s return. What could be friendlier than a big, happy hello with a smiling face? She felt lily couldn’t possibly get upset at that. Lily ran back in to the room clutching the remains of the chocolate biscuit mummy had given her, stopped and stared at the sheet of paper with her eyes wide and her mouth open then turned and ran screaming from the room slamming the door behind as if the devil were after her.

Spirit felt stunned and confused as she listened to the mother pounding up the stairs to investigate the cause of her daughter’s hysterics. She heard the older woman comfort her daughter in the hallway outside and then Sophie entered on her own. She looked at the paper, gingerly picked it up and walked backwards out of the room gently closing the door behind her. The handful of breeze that used to be a little girl was overcome with despair as the overwhelming weight of her loneliness came crushing in on her, she silently wailed into the empty air and wept empty tears. Her despair began to form into a hard knot of anger as she considered the injustice of it. Her whole family killed and she wasn’t even allowed to die in peace. Why was this girl lily allowed to have a loving mother, to live in a pretty house with a wardrobe full of wonderful clothes to wear? To have a family to protect her and keep her safe and more toys than she could ever play with? While she had everything taken away including her blood and bones then left to drift for all eternity dragging the weight of despair with her like a lead cloak? She raged around the room knocking over ornaments with her fingers of air and scattering the paper and toys in her fury until, exhausted and depleted, she came to rest in the middle of the pink quilt, her spent rage turning into quiet sobs.

Spirit; Part Three

Sophie opened her eyes and looked at the old fashioned alarm clock, 7:25. She could hear Simon moving about in the shower room but from the sound of it both children were still in bed. She took a deep breath, threw the quilt cover back and slid her legs out of the bed. She brushed her long dark hair out of her face with a slim hand and picked up the clock to cancel the alarm before it went off at 07:30 with its annoying ring.  A tall, lean man wearing just a pair of Calvin Klein’s, his hair still damp from the shower, came into the room and began to dress himself in a grey pinstripe suit.

‘Wake up sleepyhead, can’t laze about in bed all day.’

‘Bloody hell Simon, give me a break’ she retorted ‘I was up in the night.’

‘Yeah, and so was I in case you hadn’t noticed Sophie and I’m getting sick of it. You need to do something with that child, it’s getting ridiculous. It’s practically every night now.

‘Well’ replied Sophie starting to get angry with him  ‘It’s not Lily’s fault is it, it’s just a phase she’s going through,  I  suppose you never had nightmares, anyway, She’s your child too, it’s not just up to me.’

‘Well I won’t be here for a couple of days now so at least I’ll get a decent night’s sleep’ Simon spat back.

Sophie could feel her temper rising. ‘Oh brilliant, and when were you going to tell me then. It’s funny how you always have to go away in the school holidays. Just once it would be nice to spend time as a proper family.’

Simon lowered his voice and said in a more placatory tone. ‘Look, it’s not my fault, it’s work, it’s not up to me when I have to travel. I’ll have a chat with Bruce about it and see if I can get some time off and we’ll go away, spend a bit of quality, family time together, what do you say? Anyway, we’ll upset the kids, let’s talk about it later.’

Sophie gritted her teeth and flashed him an angry look that suggested she wasn’t done with him yet. She didn’t believe him for one moment and she was ninety percent certain he was having an affair. These trips away were becoming more frequent and for longer periods. He always made a point of bragging that he was practically his own boss and could do pretty much as he liked, now, all of a sudden, he was forced into doing business trips and saying he couldn’t get out of them. He had made countless promises to speak to Bruce about getting time off but he never did.  He was right about one thing though, the children would be able to hear them so she calmed herself down, made herself smile, and then followed Simon down the stairs to the kitchen.

Sophie flicked the kettle on and the water started to bubble ‘do you want tea Simon she said to her husband who was putting on his tie in the mirror.

‘No thanks, got one’ he replied cheerily, I’ll have some toast though’

Selfish bastard could have made me tea she thought to herself as she slipped two slices of bread into the toaster and put a tea bag into her cup.

There was a thumping of charging feet coming down the stairs and a 10 year old boy came bounding into the kitchen dressed in batman pyjamas. He plonked himself down at the table, his round, freckled face topped with a shock of chestnut brown hair grinning at his mother.

‘Frosties please Mum’ he shouted at Sophie.

‘And good morning to you Jack, yes you can have Frosties but you don’t need to shout all the time.

‘Sorry Mum, I can’t help it’ he mumbled contritely ‘morning Dad’

‘Morning Jack, what plans have you got for today, enquired his father taking the plate Sophie had passed to him.

‘Nuffin, just chilling with my game and the telly’

‘Cool’ exclaimed Simon ‘I’m going away for a couple of days on business so you’ll be the man of the house again’

‘Great’ replied Jack while shovelling Frosties into his mouth, ‘does that mean I can boss Lily about’

‘No it doesn’t’ snapped Sophie.

‘Listen to your Mother, you’ll have to look after Lily and Mum so be good’ said Simon putting his toast plate on the table and picking up his briefcase.

Simon turned to leave and noticed Lily standing at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in her princess pyjamas, clutching her favourite teddy in one hand and rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the other.  

‘Hello darling ‘said Simon reaching down to pick her up for a cuddle

‘Are you mad at me Daddy?’ she asked plaintively.

‘No Honey, not really but you must stop waking up in the night, your screaming ruins Daddy’s sleep so he can’t work properly and makes Mummy grumpy so she shouts at Daddy all the time. If you have a nasty dream and wake up, just think nice thoughts until you go back to sleep again.

Sophie raised her eyes to the ceiling and muttered to herself. ‘You really don’t get it do you.’

Simon glanced at Sophie. ‘See honey, Mummy’s grumpy again and having a go at daddy, nag , nag , nag always nagging, you’re not going to grow up to be like that are you princess.’

‘No Daddy I won’t, and I’ll try not to wake in the night’ said Lily quietly.

‘That’s my girl, now be good or old grumpy knickers will start nagging you too’ laughed Simon as he placed Lily gently on the floor, picked up his briefcase and headed for the door.  ‘See you in a couple of days’

‘Bye Dad’ Lily said as she made her way to the breakfast table.

Jack jumped from his chair shouting ‘see ya Dad’ and threw himself onto the sofa, grabbed the remote in his pudgy fingers and turned the TV on. Simon closed the door behind him and Lily sat at the table for breakfast. Sophie bent down, took Lily’s face in her hands and looked softly into her eyes.

‘You don’t really think Mummy’s a nag do you?  Sophie asked.

‘Of course not Mummy, your lovely’ Lily answered flinging her arms round Sophie’s neck and squeezing tight.

‘And your lovely too my little treasure’ whispered Sophie returning the squeeze, ‘now what do little treasures have for breakfast?’

‘Cheerios today please Mummy’

‘One special bowl of Cheerios for a special little girl coming up’ Sophie put the bowl of cereal with Lily’s favourite spoon in front of her then cleared the table of the used plates and dumped them in the sink. ‘Right kids I’m going up for a shower now, behave.’ Sophie climbed the stairs to get washed and dressed

 Spirit watched from the corner of the room. She had followed Lily down the stairs and seen the whole thing. She was delighted to discover that Lily had a brother, and an older brother at that. A brother who could take care of her. Her own brother had been two years younger and she had been the one who looked after him. There was no doubt she had loved him dearly, perhaps too much because she had been paying for it ever since. It suddenly came to her, Benoir, her brother’s name had been Benoir. After two and a half centuries she couldn’t picture his face but now she had his name and she would have to try and remember it.

                                          *** Part four next week ***

Spirit; Part Two

 The kink in the wind that used to be a little girl decided to go into the house and get warm by the fire. Perhaps the mother might comfort her too, she knew this was not possible but her hope burned bright. The house was shut up tight, all the doors and windows closed against the cold night air. Spirit went round the house twice to find a way in but without success. She had made her mind up and was determined so she had no choice but to knock on the door. It was not easy to interact with solid objects but it was possible if she was determined or angry enough. Things that were already dead or had never lived weren’t too much of a problem. Living things though had a reverse polarity like a magnet and the natural life force pushed her away as if shunning her back to the darkness she came from. She had touched animals and people in the past but it took a tremendous effort and hadn’t provided the comfort she had hoped for so she didn’t bother much now.

     Spirit gathered her thoughts, sucked the energy from the air around her and hurled two stabs at the painted wooden door which rattled in its frame at the impact.

‘Jesus Christ, what the hell’s that’ grumbled a man’s voice from inside the house as footsteps pounded down the stairs. He yanked the door open and stood there in the open doorway, tying his dressing gown cord around him and scowling out into the night. His scowl turned to a look of confusion then a flash of anger as he scanned the high street and realised no-one was there. He mumbled under his breath and turned to close the door behind him shaking his head in frustration. Spirit slipped quietly passed him on a breath of cold night air into the living room. He stomped angrily back up the stairs still muttering and cursing to no one in particular. Spirit followed in his wake and drifted slowly into Lily’s room. The mother had replaced the quilt back on the bed and was tucking Lily in staring down into her eyes.

‘I’m sorry Mummy; I didn’t mean to make Daddy angry’ said Lily, her head poking out of the quilt cover.’

‘Shush honey it’s not your fault, Daddies not mad at you, he just wants to get some sleep. Now it’s time for you to go back to sleep, I’ll leave your bedside light on, is that okay?

Lily nodded and queried ‘Who was that at the door.’

‘No one Sweetie, it’s just the wind.’ The mother gave her a final peck on the cheek and stood up ‘Sleep now honey and I’ll see you in the morning’ then Mother left the room, closing the door softly behind her. Lily turned on her side and waited for sleep to take her. Spirit watched from the corner of the room thinking to herself that it was true, they could have been sisters, perhaps twins even, they were the same age, had the same long dark hair and big brown eyes. Spirit thought of her own mother, the memories were very dim now and she couldn’t remember her name but she could remember her own. She had been Fabienne, Fabienne De Sauveterre. She had been born in October 1785 in Lyon France, Papa owned a silk mill and was very prosperous. She remembered being told by her mother that she was a privileged child and she shouldn’t look down on the servants just because they were poor. She should treat them with respect and kindness; she was nearly a princess after all.  She knew she had once had a younger brother although she couldn’t picture his face anymore. She also knew she had died two days before her ninth birthday.

She had watched her parents led to Les Brotteaux for their execution by the firing squad. For years she had wandered around Lyon but, with her whole family dead and her house burnt to the ground, there was no reason to stay. For the last 200 years she had been carried by the wind to every corner of France and Spain looking for an end to this existence, She had tried unsuccessfully  to kill what was left of herself many times. She had finally given up trying and instead tried to find a way to ease the crushing loneliness and despair that was with her every moment of every day and night but there was no escape from her sorrow.   She had decided to try and cross the sea to a new place. She had heard England was only few miles away but was wary of crossing an ocean in case she got lost and spent the rest of eternity wandering the open seas at the mercy of the elements and with nothing to look at except an endless expanse of water. Spirit thought that she might be able to cross the channel by following one of the ferries to Dover so she picked the biggest one and trailed it across the churning sea to the English port. Feeling quite pleased with herself she had allowed the wind to take her exploring in this new land and it had brought her eventually to this little girls bedroom. Maybe she would find salvation in this new country. She had tried to make friends with little girls before but it had never worked. Perhaps this little girl who looked so much like she had once looked might be the one, perhaps it was time to try again. Spirit had never had trouble with languages or dialects. It was as if they were speaking with gestures and movements or a look in their eye. It was the inflections in the voice that carried the message to her. The words themselves were just music in the background. She couldn’t read people’s minds; she just knew what they were saying.

Lily made a small cough and turned over under the quilt. Spirit moved forward and looked down at her peaceful sleeping face lit by the glow of the bedside lamp. The door was closed so spirit was trapped in the room but she didn’t mind. She had been trapped in all kinds of dank holes in the past and this was a lovely little room so she waited patiently, she waited for morning to come as she had done every night for as long as she could remember, lost in her thoughts and hoping that, maybe at long last, this little girl might be her friend.

Spirit

SPIRIT

BY

STEVEN MEAD.

I

     Spirit didn't like the cold and damp. She had no more substance than a puff of smoke but she still found it chilled her and made her melancholy.  There was a thin sliver of moon this cold, October night but the sky was clear and sparkled with thousands of stars like twinkles in friendly, mischievous eyes. She thought of the stars as her friends, they had been her companions for countless nights and she had made up her own constellations to remind her of things she deemed it important to remember. These days though, she found herself recognising some of the constellations she had named but couldn’t bring to mind the reason. She had forgotten what she had tried so hard to remember and it made her sad.

     It was easier to drift with the breeze than move against it and besides, she had nowhere to go so let the wind carry her.  The streets were empty of people and the village was hushed. All the windows where shut against the cold night air, while the secret nocturnal drama of the animals played out in the deserted streets. The rats scavenged in the bins while the cats hunted them from the shadows. Spirit watched it all as she had done thousands of times before. Neither the Rats nor the Cats were aware of their audience of one. She was just a gust of wind.

     The gentle breeze blew down the main thoroughfare taking Spirit with it, lost in her thoughts and indistinct memories. The street lamps spread their yellow light and all the houses were in darkness apart from a small, pretty looking cottage where a warm glow burned from an upstairs window.  As Spirit was carried past it caught her eye. Perhaps it was the cosy yellow glow that looked so inviting and homely, perhaps it was just good old fashioned curiosity either way she moved towards it and peered in through the glass.

     It was a child’s bedroom with pink painted walls and a princess quilt cover thrown on the floor. The white shelving on the wall contained books, brightly coloured ornaments and many cuddly toys of different shapes, colours and sizes. There was a large, painted dolls house in the corner and a desk in another corner with a pink laptop sitting on it. A dozen dolls were in the middle of the room laid out as if interrupted in the middle of a game. On the bed, a young girl of eight years old with long, brown hair sat clinging to her mother, her child’s eyes red with crying and her face stained with tears. Her face was screwed up in anguish as she wailed uncontrollably into her mother’s shoulder and crushed herself into the safe embrace as if to hide.

‘Lily, Lily calm down, it’s only a dream, I’m here now, no need to make such a fuss’ the older woman cooed rocking her back and forth. They shared the same long chestnut hair which matted together as she pulled her closer into her body.

‘Shush Lily quiet now, god your making enough noise to wake the neighbours, that’s a good girl shush. You don’t want to disturb daddy do you? He has to go to work tomorrow and he’ll be mad if you wake him.

‘Too late’ a man’s voice chipped in thick with annoyance.

‘I’m sorry mummy, I’m sorry, I can’t help it’ Lily grizzled into her mother shoulder.

‘Never mind honey, never mind. Try and calm down. Was it the one about the monster with the big teeth again’ asked the mother. Lily nodded as if too frightened to say it out loud.

     The mother rocked her terrified daughter unaware of the presence outside looking on. Spirit was overcome with a sense of loss as she remembered her own nanny comforting her. She had no eyes to cry but was weeping into the wind from the bottom of her soul. She longed for the comforting touch of a human being, to feel the warmth from a roaring fire and the satisfaction of a full belly. She wanted to be that little girl on the bed being embraced. She would gladly suffer the most horrific night terrors if it meant she could be comforted like the girl before her. The child was about the age spirit was when she ceased to be, and she had looked like her. Spirit had had similar long, dark hair that had been her pride. Nana used to brush it a hundred times every night before bed. She had possessed the same dark eyes that Papa had said would steal all the boy’s hearts when she got older. They could have been sisters, spirit and this little girl Lily.  The ageless spirit decided to go and introduce herself although she knew in her heart of hearts it was a very bad idea. 

                       ****** Part 2 Next Week *****