Bryony Pearce - The Weight of Souls

“Dad–” I bit off my insulting comment, not wanting to inflict so much pain again. “Look, even if I met this mythical guy who’d put up with me, I wouldn’t risk inflicting this condition on a child.” My voice was hoarse. “I’m surprised Mum did.”

Dad stared up at me, finally meeting my eyes. “Taylor, me and your mum, we talked it through. We looked at her family records before she got pregnant. The condition runs in her family, but there was a fifty-fifty chance you’d be fine. We thought it was worth the risk. She loved you from before you were even conceived. She wanted you. We wanted you.”

I shook my head. “No. You wanted the kid who didn’t get the curse. Not me.”

Dad gaped as if I’d punched him in the chest. “How could you think that?” He rolled towards me swiftly, dropping Mum’s photo in his lap so that he could grab my hand. “I love you.”

“But you’re trying to change me, just like you tried to change her. You’d love me more if I was normal.”

He shook his head and his fingers gripped mine more tightly. “I couldn’t love you more. I couldn’t have loved your mum more.” He was actually crying.

My eyes widened and I felt cold all over. I’d made Dad cry. He hadn’t even cried at the funeral.

“I can’t believe you’d think that. That I’ve made you think that.”

I couldn’t stop myself, even seeing his tears I couldn’t choke the words away. “Then why try to force her to a doctor if you loved her so much? If you love me. ”

“It was an illness, Taylor. You don’t love someone less because they aren’t well.” His chest heaved. “You try to help them.” He realised he was crushing my hand and released his grip. I rubbed the life back into my fingers without looking away from his face.

“I wanted her to go to a doctor, because I thought if we found some drugs that helped her, then you wouldn’t have to suffer at all, you could go on the same prescription from the very beginning.”

“But she wouldn’t go.”

Dad half-smiled. “She was so stubborn – like somebody else I know.” He groaned and rubbed his hand through his hair. “It upset me, her refusal. I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t want to help you, especially when you got sick too.”

“If you’re so sure I’m crazy, why don’t you send me away? Get me locked up and cured like you wanted to do to her.”

He looked at his wasted legs where they lay unmoving on the chair. He swallowed.

“Dad?”

“It was her last wish.” He heaved a sobbing breath. “The last thing she said to me as we lay trapped in that wreck was , ‘ Don’t send Taylor away’. I’d made her worry about it so much that she used her last breath to get that assurance. Not to tell me she loved us, but to make me swear. And that’s why I have to work so hard to find a cure myself, because I had to make that promise.”

I was crying myself now, silent howls that hurt my chest. I had to make this stop. I blinked furiously to hold back the tears and thrust out my arm. “Just do it.”

Dad gaped owlishly at my bare wrist then hung his head to stare once more at my mother’s picture. “Maybe we should do this in the morning.”

I pulled my sleeve back down and backed out of the room, glancing once more at The Tale of Oh-Fa as I left. What I wouldn’t give for Dad to be right, for there to be a cure.

But Mum had always said it when she fought with Dad – you can’t cure a curse.

Hannah’s hair was orange today. It bobbed opposite me like a neon dandelion. I was focusing my blurring eyes on the way the sun glowed off the fluffy ends, mainly because last night's hunt had stopped me from revising for yet another test.

Hannah glanced up at me with her X-Files pen in her mouth. She narrowed her eyes in concern when she saw my lack of activity.

I shrugged helplessly and watched her agonise, trying to work out a way to get her answers over to me. I shook my head, telling her not to worry. She cut her eyes to the clock, to the teacher and back to my empty page. Her hand twitched as if she was going to slide hers across. I shook my head more vigorously and Miss Carroll’s whipped up.

“Heads down,” she snapped.

Hannah’s head plunged as if she’d been dunked. I ducked more slowly and as I turned my eyes back to the set of unanswerable questions I caught sight of Justin to my right. He was failing to hide his amusement at my obvious crash and burn. I noted with grim dismay that his sheet was filled with cramped handwriting.

Surreptitiously I looked around the room. Pete was frowning over his work, his dark eyes flicking from the questions to the page with the intense focus that was such a part of everything he did. James was next to him, glaring at the question paper as if it had offended him. I straightened a little. Maybe I wasn’t the only one due for a fail this week. Then he stabbed his pencil on the paper and started to write, pushing so hard I could hear the scratching of his answers over the rustling and quiet sighs that otherwise filled the air.

I sighed. Maybe I could attempt question five. Maybe. I picked up my pencil just as the bell rang.

Figures .

“What happened? You were fine with this stuff when we did it in class.” Hannah looked tragic.

“It’s OK, Han, I just forgot to revise.” I avoided her eyes and packed up my bag.

“But you didn’t answer anything .”

I shrugged. “My mind went blank.”

“Like it’s ever been anything else,” Tamsin sneered as she elbowed past. “But then I suppose you’ve got your career mapped out already. You’ll be working at the takeaway, bagging the prawn crackers. Don’t need good grades for that.” She tossed her hair and shouldered Hannah aside, knocking my bag onto the floor in the process. Books and pens flew and I grabbed for it quickly, but not quickly enough. The box of Lillets I carried burst and sellophaned cotton sticks rolled around the floor, slippery as crayons. One rolled to a halt in front of Justin and I burned crimson as he nudged it with his toe, eyebrows climbing into his hairline.

“What’s the matter, Hargreaves, never seen a tampon before?” I snapped. But it was hard to seem unconcerned while scrabbling on the floor to pick them up. Hannah bent to help me, swiping them into the box, but they wouldn’t go in any which way and we had to spend time organising them as the back of my neck set on fire.

“Maybe your girlfriend doesn’t need them yet.” I spoke to Justin, but glared at Tamsin.

She shook her head at me coolly. “Some of us don’t share these things with everyone.” She hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder. “ Some of us have class.” She flicked her hair again and posed, waiting for Justin to take her arm. He actually stepped over me to get to her.

Pete was behind him as always. Shame and disgust warred on his face as he edged by. Hannah didn’t even raise her head and my heart hurt as I realised she wasn’t even trying with him any more. There was a time when the two of them had been close, but that hadn’t been true for a while.

I hunched my shoulders over the last of the offending items and shoved the box back in my bag, making sure to put them in the zipped compartment.

Finally I stood and came face to face with James.

He stood far too close, crowding my space. He was so tall my nose was inches from his collar bone and I could smell his stale deodorant, which had obviously been over-taxed by the test. I was forced to look up at him.

Once he saw me raise my eyes, his mouth curved into a cool smile and my chest tightened. That smile had nothing friendly in it whatsoever. My forearms prickled as goosebumps pebbled the skin. Automatically I tried to step back, but the table was in the way.