Birdseye Read online

  Ann, my sweet girl, I can’t believe that you’ll be sixteen today. I hope this suits you. It reminded me of the colour of your eyes.

  I saw Pa God holding up a small necklace, the charm on it dangling, catching the light as it turned, saw him standing in front of a rack of jerseys. Had anyone ever helped him to choose? I wondered. Or had he made the pilgrimage every year on his own, to Stuttafords or Garlicks, smiling at the fluttering assistants, informing them gravely that he was looking for a present for a ten-, thirteen-, sixteen-year-old girl?

  And then the letters. I slid them carefully from their envelopes, scanned them as fast as I could. All the small details of Pa God’s life. I devoured them, racing along the lines of his neat handwriting. He’d told Annie everything. About his job, the people he met as he travelled from town to town, about his new family: three children, boy, girl, boy. Ten, twelve and fourteen years younger than Annie. And, of course, about Madge. ‘I think you’d like her, Ann. She’s a comfortable person to be with. I wish your mother would—’

  You and me both, I thought as I slipped the last letter back into its envelope. I knew so much more about my grandfather now, liked him more too. He hadn’t given up. He’d kept the flame of hope alive, so that Annie would at least know he’d cared enough to tell her about his life. And maybe even, one day, forgive him.

  21

  I felt sad and sorry for Pa God as I filled the boys in on my big discovery. He’s just like me with the two of you. He tried so hard to keep Annie part of his new life. The only thing he didn’t talk about, though, was Ma Bess. Nothing, not one single clue. The only way to learn more is to go to the source. That’s what Alice says you have to do when you’re researching. I’ll ask him at the wedding reception, when everyone’s had a bit to drink. Adults talk a lot when they do that.

  Annie certainly didn’t want him to be invited, but Angela wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  We were all sitting round the dining-room table, ‘firming up the guest list’, as Mrs McAllister had asked us to.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Annie groaned. ‘I do wish there wasn’t so much managing to be done.’

  ‘Mrs McAllister seems to like doing it,’ I offered, and Annie groaned again.

  ‘Andy’s mother would be very happy to do everything,’ she said. ‘Including pitch up at the altar.’ She looked down at the list Angela had given her. Gramps and Granny Little were at the top, and next Angela had written Pa God’s name.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mom,’ she said, ‘but I’m sending him an invitation. Andy says it’s ridiculous, having a grandfather we hardly know.’

  ‘So this is when we’ll get a chance to know him better, is it?’ Anthea asked sarcastically. ‘When you trot him out for the family photos?’

  Angela looked at her, hurt. ‘That’s not fair, Anth. It’s time to let bygones be bygones. Mend some bridges. What do you think, Alice?’

  ‘Nothing to do with me,’ Alice said. ‘I can’t see why you’re even bothering to get married. Anyone with an ounce of sense would see that it’s nothing but a patriarchal ploy, aimed at keeping women in a subservient position.’

  ‘That’s enough, Alice, Anthea,’ Annie said. ‘Invite him if you want to, Angela, but please realise I won’t find it easy to talk to him.’

  ‘But Mom—’ I shut my mouth quickly. What about his letters, I’d nearly said. Can’t you forgive him just a little bit? Looking at Annie’s set mouth, I could see that Pa God wasn’t going to make his way back into our family fold that easily.

  ‘Now, what about the flowers?’ Annie said. ‘Who’s going to be in charge of the posies for the bridesmaids?’

  ‘Oh God,’ Anthea said. ‘Who’s in charge of drinks?’ She opened the sideboard door. ‘Please tell me you’ve got some gin in here, Mom?’

  Angela had to give Ma Bess an invitation too. Annie and Orville said so. She delivered it one evening when she took up Ma’s supper. When she came back downstairs she was shiny with happiness. She’s not coming, she said. She’s got far better things to do with her time. Is that why you look so happy Ange? I asked. The grin on her face grew wider and gladder. More than that Bird, she said. Not long now, and I’ll never have to go up there again. Then she saw Annie’s face. I’ll miss you all so much, Mom, she said, but I can’t lie. If I never see her again it’ll be too soon.

  I was amazed. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Angela sounding so fierce. So maybe that’s a good reason for getting married. To get away from Ma.

  A week later Pa God’s RSVP came back. He and his wife would be delighted to accept.

  ‘Holy crap, Ange,’ Anthea crowed, waving the small ivory square in the air. ‘Godfrey and the mysterious Madge. Why not just cancel the wedding and charge admission to the show?’

  Angela looked worried and then her mouth set in a mutinous line. ‘We need to make a start,’ she said. ‘It’s ridiculous, excluding him, all because he dared to leave Ma.’

  ‘Yes,’ Anthea mused. ‘If anything, he deserves a medal for that.’

  ‘Don’t forget,’ Alice spoke from the depths of the sofa where she had her head stuck in a heavy botanical tome, ‘he didn’t only divorce Ma, he also walked out on his daughter.’

  Even Anthea shut up with that, but not for very long. ‘Annie’s a big girl now,’ she said. ‘It’s time she let her father come to the party.’

  All the while I’d sat silent. Pa God was actually coming? And his wife? Things couldn’t be better. I’d get the chance to interrogate him, get him to add a few more pieces to the puzzle that was Ma Bess.

  22

  I was exhausted and my heels were raw from where the new pale-pink shoes had pinched so tightly. But I couldn’t flop onto my bed without telling Ollie and Oz what had happened at the wedding.

  It all went as planned. How could it not, with Mrs McAllister at the helm? Annie managed to grab control from her over a few small things but, as Anthea said, nothing could get in the way of Mrs McAllister’s devotion to the perfect wedding plan.

  Oz, Ollie, I looked hideous. There’s no other word for it. Sorry, but there isn’t. The hairdresser couldn’t have scrunched and gelled my hair more if he’d tried. I wish Rose-Marie could have done it, left it loose and easy. But no, Andy’s mother was in charge there too. We all had to be at Michel’s in Cape Town by nine sharp. And by the time he’d finished with me I felt like I was wearing a cage on my head.

  Michel whinged his way through the cut, the blow wave. ‘Sacré bleu, zis hair, he is im-poss-eeeble. Ooh as cut eet?’ I stared at him in the mirror as he yanked my head from side to side. ‘Eh bien, we do what we can, eh?’ And finally, as he pushed the last daisy into the heavy strands of iron that used to be my hair, ‘Zut alors – it is fini.’

  On my way to the toilet, I heard him again, in the little cubicle where his assistant was making coffee for the wedding party. ‘Jislaaik, that little chick’s hair …’

  ‘Moenie worrie nie, skat,’ his assistant replied. ‘You mos did a lekker job wif her.’

  So that was how the day started. Then back home to eat the light lunch cooked and delivered by Andy’s mom, and into Angela’s bedroom to slip my poofy, puffy-sleeved bridesmaid’s dress over my head. It made me look like I’d stepped into a cloud of pale-pink candyfloss and would never find my way out again.

  ‘Adorable,’ Angela said when she saw me. ‘Just like Mrs Mc— I mean Mom said you’d look.’

  ‘I feel like a tumbleweed,’ I said. ‘One good puff and I’ll go rolling—’ I caught Annie’s eye and stopped. This was, as she’d told us over and over again, Angela’s day, and nothing was going to wreck it.

  ‘Pale pink will never be your colour, Bird,’ Anthea said bluntly. She was right. My bridesmaid’s dress leached all the life from my face, left my pale skin looking almost blue.

  Anthea looked ravishing, but then again it didn’t matter what she wore, she always looked good. And Alice was breathtaking, much as she grumbled about having to wear a dress that was a symbol of everything
she detested. She did it for Angela, though. We all did. Our beautiful Angel, whom we loved so much.

  Angela was as radiant as all the brides in the magazines she had been poring through for so many weeks. As she emerged from Marchbanks, the fabric of her dress shone in the sun; small pearls bordered the neckline and seeded themselves in the folds of the skirt. On her feet she wore satin pumps, and the sun twinkled off her feet as she walked down the path to the fancy car waiting at the gate. She handed me her train, and I trotted behind her, careful to keep it clean and snowy white. Around her neck she wore a simple chain and, dangling from that, a small heart, the first present Andy had given her. Under the soft folds of her dress, at the top of her slim thigh, she was wearing a blue lace garter. Anthea had given it to her, dared her to let Andy reach up under her skirts and toss it to the men waiting to see who would marry next.

  ‘It might be the first time his hand has gone up there, knowing Ange, but it won’t be the last,’ she’d teased and Angela’s cheeks had glowed a bright pink.

  Then, as we sat in the limousine, the streets of Harbiton flashing past, the pale-cream and blush-pink roses trembling in Angela’s bouquet, it struck me again: Angela wouldn’t be coming home tonight. Andy was taking her away for good.

  It’s never a good idea to start having sad thoughts, they lead to others.

  ‘What’s the matter, Bird?’ Angela asked.

  ‘It’s such a big day,’ I said. ‘I wish …’

  ‘I know, Bird.’ Anthea’s voice was unusually gentle. ‘I do too.’

  Alice’s violet eyes looked even larger than ever. She blinked and sniffed.

  ‘Sometimes,’ I said in a whisper, ‘when I close my eyes, I can see them clear as anything, but they’re always ten. And that’s younger than me now.’

  Angela patted my hand.

  ‘Well, hey,’ Anthea said, ‘I think I might have a little something here to cheer us all up.’ She opened her pale-pink clutch bag. ‘Let’s see, Angela’s lipstick, her comb and – ah ha!’ She took out a small bottle, filled with clear liquid. ‘Just what the doc ordered.’

  ‘Not for me, Anth,’ Angela said, but Anthea wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  ‘Look at you,’ she said, ‘you’re shaking like a leaf. Just a small swig.’

  Even I had one – it burned like crazy but then a warm glow settled in my stomach.

  ‘Gosh, Anthea,’ I said. ‘I can see why you like drinking so much.’

  Anthea laughed shortly. ‘At least it’s done the trick,’ she said, and sure enough, Angela’s hands were no longer shaking.

  The car pulled up in front of the church with a purr and we all climbed out. Angela walked slowly up the path, her sisters clustered behind her. At the door of the church, she paused. Orville was waiting there and she stepped into his arms. He whispered something into her ear, then took her by the arm and stood waiting for us to arrange ourselves behind her. The smell of old wood and polish and flowers drifted along the aisle to meet us. As I bent to pick up Angela’s train, the clear flute of a young boy’s voice pierced the air.

  We walked slowly up the aisle, my feet in their flat satin pumps shushing on the red carpet. Small murmurs of appreciation ruffled the pews as people turned to look at the bride. The boy’s voice faded into stillness. Angela handed her bouquet to me and turned to Orville. He kissed her gently on the cheek, then stepped back.

  I slid a sideways glance to the front pew where Annie stood waiting for Orville to join her. A few rows back stood Pa God, and next to him a comfortable-looking woman with red hair and creamy skin.

  The Mysterious Madge, I thought. Wonderful!

  23

  The older I get, the more I learn that people don’t like it when you ask them things straight out. Like last year, when I asked Granny Little how much she weighed. It’s not very polite, Bird, Orville said, even though I thought it would be okay to ask Gran because she’s tall and skinny, not chubby like Jane English, a girl in my class. Granny laughed and said she didn’t mind, not in the least, but she agreed with Orville. There are gentler ways of asking some questions, Bird, she said, though mind you, I don’t know of a polite way to ask a lady how much she weighs, so maybe you should avoid that one.

  I remembered that when I finally got to the table where Pa God and Madge were sitting. People kept stopping me and asking me how old I was and saying wasn’t Angela beautiful, which was true, and didn’t I look pretty in my dress, which wasn’t true at all, although some of them looked a bit surprised when I said so. But when I got to Pa God’s table, I was very polite.

  They were sitting near the back, with a whole lot of people I didn’t know.

  ‘Hello,’ I said, ‘it’s nice to see you again. I’m very sorry there wasn’t space for you up near the front.’

  ‘That’s fine, Bird,’ Pa God said and he almost smiled.

  I turned to the lady sitting next to him. ‘Hello,’ I said. ‘My name is Amelia. People call me Bird. You must be Madge. We’re all longing to meet you. Well, I certainly am.’

  Madge smiled and put out her hand. ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Bird. I’ve been longing to meet you too.’

  ‘That’s very nice of you.’

  The seat next to Pa God was empty.

  ‘May I join you?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course.’ Pa God pulled the chair out for me.

  ‘I don’t have to be careful about creasing my dress any more,’ I said. ‘Thank heavens. Though it will be a relief to get home and changed.’ Annie had said that earlier and I felt exactly the same way.

  ‘How are you?’ I asked Pa.

  ‘Very well, Bird,’ he said. ‘And you?’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I’d like to say I’m fine, but sadly … I can’t.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ he said, and Madge looked concerned.

  ‘Yes, you see, I’ve been very worried lately. Unable to sleep. Bad dreams.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry,’ said Pa.

  ‘It’s my roots,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Your roots?’

  ‘Yes,’ I sighed. ‘My roots. With the wedding and everything, I’ve been thinking … You see my sisters and I, we don’t know where we come from. We asked Annie, but she said she couldn’t tell us anything because Ma – you know, your first wife?’ I asked and Pa God nodded. ‘She simply won’t tell Annie anything about where she lived before she came to South Africa, or if she had a mom and dad or brothers and sisters, or anything. But I thought, seeing as we’re meeting you again, and seeing as you did know her, and Annie will never ask you, maybe I could.’

  There was silence.

  ‘Ask you about Ma Bess,’ I said helpfully, in case he hadn’t understood my polite way of asking a question.

  ‘Well, Bird,’ said Pa God. ‘I don’t blame you for wanting answers but—’

  ‘Oh please,’ I rushed in. ‘Surely you must know something? I mean you were married to her, weren’t you?’

  Another silence. Well, apart from a sort of snorting noise from Madge, whose cheeks were suddenly very pink. I stopped, worried that she might be upset, but I couldn’t afford to lose out on this opportunity. ‘Only, Anthea says she thinks you weren’t – properly married that is – and that’s why you had to come out here … Because you were in disgrace.’ I filled in the next gap in the conversation.

  ‘No,’ said Pa. He looked at Madge and she nodded slightly. ‘We weren’t in disgrace. Well not in the way you might think. We were married, your grandmother and I, and we lived together and had Annie. But there were reasons we came out to South Africa that I can’t share with you. I’m sorry, Bird.’

  I sighed again. ‘That’s such a pity,’ I said. ‘You were my only hope.’

  ‘Maybe one of these days you’ll get to the bottom of it,’ Pa God said. ‘The past has a strange way of finding its way into the present.’

  ‘Yes, look what happened with you. None of us had a clue he existed,’ I said to Madge. ‘You can imagine our surprise.’

  ‘So
I’ve been told,’ Madge said. She smiled and I could see why Pa God liked her.

  ‘Can I tell you something?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course you can, Bird,’ Madge said.

  ‘You seem very nice,’ I said. ‘Not a bit like Ma Bess. She believes children should be seen and not heard. In fact, the less she sees of us the better. Unless she wants us to tell her something.’ A third sigh. ‘She’ll probably want to know all about you,’ I said to Madge. ‘Even if I don’t tell her we met. She has a way of finding things out.’

  Pa God sat silently. Then he put his hand firmly on the table as if he had something important to say. I looked at him hopefully. He paused a little longer and then he said, ‘There’s one thing I can tell you, Bird, if you can promise not to let your grandmother know. One small thing. Can you keep it a secret?’

  I looked at him seriously. ‘I’ll try my very best,’ I said, ‘but you know what she’s like. Orville reckons the Spanish Inquisition has nothing on her.’

  ‘Well,’ said Pa, ‘we’ll just have to take a chance on it. I met your grandmother in England.’

  I looked at him in disappointment. That was it? The big secret?

  ‘And—’ I looked up hopefully and leaned forward. ‘She had a sister. A very nice lady.’

  ‘Nicer than Ma?’

  ‘Oh, much nicer. Much, much nicer. Her name was Katherine. Everyone called her Kitty, but I called her Kate.’

  ‘So I have an aunt, a great-aunt, over there,’ I said slowly. ‘Kitty?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Pa God. ‘I’m not sure if she’s still alive – we haven’t kept in touch – but as far as I know she never left England. Maybe one of these days you can travel overseas and meet her. Now, like I said, that’s all I can tell you.’

  I beamed at Pa God and wriggled down off the seat. My white tights had wrinkled around my ankles and I hitched them up. I reached up and kissed Pa God on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ I said, then turned to Madge and shared another wide smile with her. ‘Thank you for coming, it was very brave of you.’

  Madge rubbed my shoulder.