Cecelia Ahern - Lyrebird

‘Laura’s Language,’ Bo says, continuing her search for a title.

‘So she’s a mimic,’ Rachel says. ‘Laura the Mimic.’

‘That’s deep,’ Bo laughs.

‘She doesn’t mimic actions or movements. Just sounds,’ Solomon says.

They both think about it.

‘I mean she’s not on all fours, growling like a dog, or running around the room and flapping her arms like a bird. She repeats sounds.’

‘Good point.’

‘Our friend the anthropologist,’ Rachel says raising her new pint towards him.

‘Anthropologist, now that’s a good idea,’ Bo says, reaching for her pen and paper. ‘We need to speak to one of them about her.’

‘There’s a bird somewhere, that imitates sounds,’ Solomon says, not listening to the two of them. ‘I saw it on a nature programme a while ago.’ He thinks hard, mind foggy from the jet lag and now alcohol.

‘A parrot?’ Rachel offers.

Bo giggles.

‘No.’

‘A budgie.’

‘No, it imitates all sounds. Humans, machines, other birds, I saw it on a documentary.’

‘Hmm,’ Bo reaches for her phone. ‘Bird that imitates sounds.’

She searches for a moment. Suddenly her phone starts playing loudly and as the customers turn to her again, she quickly apologises and lowers the volume.

‘Sorry. This is it.’

They huddle around to watch a two-minute clip of David Attenborough and a bird that mimics the sounds of other birds, a chainsaw, a mobile phone, the shutter of a camera.

‘That’s exactly like Laura,’ Rachel says, prodding the screen with her greasy salty peanut finger.

‘It’s called a lyrebird,’ Bo says, deep in thought. ‘Laura the Lyrebird.’

‘The Lyrebird,’ Rachel says.

‘No,’ Solomon shakes his head. ‘Just Lyrebird.’

‘Love it,’ Bo grins. ‘That’s it. Congratulations, Solomon, your first title!’

Elated, they call it a night at midnight and return to their bedrooms.

‘I thought you were tired,’ Bo smiles as Solomon nuzzles into her neck, as she opens the door with a keycard. She misses a few times, her aim off. ‘You’re like a vampire, coming alive at night,’ she giggles.

He nibbles at her neck, which reminds him of a bat, which reminds him of the bat house, which reminds him of Laura, who is in the room next door, which knocks him off course, which makes him loosen his grip on Bo. Thankfully, she doesn’t notice as she finally gets the key in the door and pushes it open.

‘I wonder if she’s awake,’ Bo whispers.

Laura close to his mind, Solomon pulls Bo close to him, kisses her.

‘Wait,’ Bo whispers. ‘Let me listen.’

She pulls away and moves to the connecting door to Laura’s room. She pushes her ear to the door and while she listens, Solomon starts undressing her.

‘Sol,’ she laughs. ‘I’m trying to do research!’

He pulls her underwear from her foot and throws it over his shoulder. He starts at her ankle and kisses his way up her leg, licking the inside of her thigh.

‘Never mind,’ Bo gives up on her research and turns her back to the door.

In bed, Bo lets out moans of delight.

Solomon pulls her down to him, to kiss her, and as their lips lock, he hears the sounds of pleasure again. Bo’s sounds. But they’re not coming from Bo, they’re coming from the connecting door. They both freeze.

Bo looks at Solomon. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispers.

Solomon looks at the connecting door. The light from the bathroom is illuminating the otherwise dark room. Though the door on their side is still closed, Laura must have opened her own connecting door and is listening at their door.

‘Oh my God,’ Bo repeats, getting off Solomon and pulling the bedclothes around her protectively.

‘She can’t see you,’ he says.

‘Sssh.’

Solomon’s heart pounds, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. Even if Laura can’t see them, he’s sure she can hear them.

‘I don’t care, that’s sick.’

‘It’s not sick.’

‘For fuck sake, Solomon,’ she hisses, disgusted with him.

They listen out but there’s no further sound.

‘What are you doing?’ she hisses, watching him get out of bed.

He goes to the connecting door and pushes his ear to the cold wood. He imagines Laura right on the other side, doing the same thing. Her first night away from her cottage, perhaps they were wrong to leave her alone for a few hours. He hopes she’s okay.

‘Well?’ she asks, as he gets back into bed.

‘Nothing.’

‘What if she’s nuts, Sol?’ she whispers.

‘She’s not nuts.’

‘Like crazy psycho-killer nuts.’

‘She’s not.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I don’t… it was your idea to bring her here.’

‘That’s helpful.’

He sighs. ‘Can’t we at least finish?’

‘No. That’s freaked me right out.’

Solomon sighs, rests his arms behind his head and stares, feeling wide awake, at the ceiling. Bo lies on top of him, her leg across his body, so he can’t even finish himself off, while she sleeps. Fully awake now, and unsatisfied.

He throws the covers off and moves so that Bo will get off him.

‘If you’re going to wank in the toilet, you better be quiet or the Lyrebird will be repeating your every sound for the next two weeks on camera,’ Bo warns, sleepily.

He rolls his eyes and gets back into bed, the mood completely killed.

At some stage he falls asleep listening to the sound of Laura listening to him.

Solomon wakes in the morning to an empty bed. The connecting door is open a fraction. He sits up and gets his bearings. He hears Bo’s voice drifting out to him. Gentle but organisational.

‘Joe has agreed that we can have access to the cottage for today so that we can film you there. We can see you go about your day, what you do, how you live, that kind of thing. And then I’ll ask you a few questions about how you see the future, what you’d like to do with your life. So maybe think about those kinds of things.’

Silence.

‘Do you have these answers now?’

Silence.

Solomon gets out of bed and pads naked across the room to the door. He peeks through the crack in the door and sees them, Laura sitting on the bed, the back of Bo’s head.

‘Okay, that’s okay, you don’t have to answer my questions now. But you do understand what we’re planning?’

‘I understand.’

‘We’ll film today and tomorrow, break for the weekend, and then return on Monday. Is that okay with you?’

‘I’m going to be with Solomon in Galway at the weekend.’

‘Yes.’

Awkward silence.

‘Last night, Laura…’

Silence.

Solomon closes his eyes and cringes, wishing Bo would just let it go. It was the first night in ten years that Laura had slept in a different bed, a different room. Everything was different. Bo’s sounds had been new for Laura, mimicking them was her way of understanding, that was all, he wishes Bo could get that and leave it.

‘Em, last night I heard you make a sound. While I was in bed.’

Laura makes the sound again, an exact replica of Bo’s pleasured moans, as if she had recorded it and was playing it from her voice box.

Solomon bites his lip, tries not to laugh.

‘Yes. That.’ Bo is mortified.

‘You want that in your film?’

Solomon peeks through the crack again, to get a look at Laura, he noticed the change in the tone of her voice. It’s playful. She’s playing with Bo. Bo, on the other hand, misses it.