Cecelia Ahern - Lyrebird

‘It all sounds… incredible.’ She grins, unable to believe it. ‘Are the others coming?’

‘What others?’

‘The other contestants. I don’t think most of them like me very much.’

‘They’re jealous.’ He smiles. ‘It’s a competition, you blew them all out of the water. And no, they’re not coming. This trip is all about you.’

She chews on her lip, concerned about this.

‘Don’t worry, they’re all doing interviews too. They’ve probably done more, in fact, but you’re getting all the coverage. If I were to ask any of them to come on this trip, they wouldn’t think twice about leaving anyone else behind. It’s a competition, Lyrebird. So, you need to get your passport details to Bianca so we can take care of your flights.’

‘Oh… I don’t have a passport.’

‘That’s okay,’ he says encouragingly. ‘We have a few days, we can organise one. The show has had to organise emergency passports before. The passport office are good that way. Fans of the show. All you have to do is give Bianca your birth certificate. Don’t worry if it’s in Cork, we can pick up a copy from the Dublin office.’

Laura stares at him, open-mouthed, not sure what to say. He takes it the wrong way.

He laughs. ‘I told you not to worry, this show takes care of all your needs,’ he holds his hands out grandly.

Laura swallows. ‘No, it’s not that… I don’t have a birth certificate.’

His smile fades.

Bianca, Curtis and Jack sit in the office in what Laura understands to be a crisis meeting. Curtis and Jack watch Laura, Laura looks at Bianca as she reads from a list of paperwork required to attain a passport.

‘Baptism record?’

‘She already said no,’ Jack says, the irritation creeping in.

‘School records.’

‘I was home-schooled.’

‘Yeah, but state exams would have you on file.’

‘I didn’t sit state exams.’

‘Okay, cool,’ Bianca says, looking down at her printout from the passport office. ‘A letter from someone who knows you from an early age attesting they believe you to be born in Ireland.’ She looks up at Laura. They all do.

Jack laughs. ‘Well, that should be easy. Know anyone who knows you were born?’

Curt chuckles for Jack’s benefit.

‘No.’ Laura’s eyes fill. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Okay, wait. Something’s up here. You need to tell us what’s going on,’ Jack says gently, and Curtis sits up, all ears.

A solitary creature, the lyrebird is a creature of the wild. It cannot, or will not, subsist in cleared and settled areas. While they’re a tame and shy bird, many lyrebirds have been snared alive and are subjected to examination by experienced naturalists. The outcome is that the lyrebird mopes in captivity and quickly perishes.

Ambrose Pratt, The Lore of the Lyrebird

After sharing her story with Curtis and Jack, StarrGaze Entertainment book Laura for an interview on Ireland’s biggest radio chat show, an in-depth interview which reveals exclusive never-talked-about details of her life in the Toolin cottage alone for ten years, and a discussion of her inability to get a passport. There follows a debate on air about how Laura or anybody in Laura’s very unusual situation can receive a passport. Members of the public, officials, ring in with tips and advice and tell their own stories. Her local TD’s constituency office vows to help her.

After an exhausting day, feeling utterly drained from sharing herself, her personal story, with strangers who dig at her soul, Laura returns to the apartment. She leans against the door, her eyes closed, her migraine reaching an all-time high.

‘You just shared our exclusive with the entire fucking nation!’

Laura opens her eyes.

Bo is standing before her, hands on her hips. Laura has never seen her so angry.

‘Is that a problem?’ Laura looks nervously to Solomon, who has just stepped out of the bedroom to see what all the fuss is about.

This angers Bo even more, that Laura continuously turns to Solomon for support. She’s using him as her get-out clause. Poor little mountain girl who can’t make decisions for herself, when she’s turned out to be far more savvy than any of them could have imagined.

‘Of course it’s a problem,’ Bo snaps. ‘You told me you were going on air to talk about a passport. Not to reveal everything .’

Laura looks at her in surprise.

‘You’re doing the documentary with me , remember? You’re supposed to be telling me your story, and instead you’re planning to travel to the other side of the world, and telling all to the rag-mags. Oh yes, I heard about that one too.’

Laura swallows nervously. She makes a sound.

‘No, don’t start that, Laura, seriously. Sometimes I think you start that shit to avoid the subject. We’re adults. Start acting like one.’

‘Bo,’ Solomon cuts in. ‘Stop it.’

Bo ignores him and continues: ‘I found you, I brought you here, I got you the place on StarrQuest , you’re staying with me, I’m feeding you, you’re sleeping here-’

‘Bo, stop-’

‘No, don’t interrupt me,’ she raises her voice. ‘The deal was that you share your story with us, not use us to get to bigger and better things.’ She looks Laura up and down, at her clothes and the stack of magazines in her hand. ‘I see you reading through these all day, I see you have a new wardrobe, designer sunglasses. You want to be famous Laura, is that what this is all about?’

‘Bo! Shut up!’ Solomon yells at the top of his voice, which frightens Laura but Bo doesn’t even blink.

‘Stay out of this, Sol – Laura should be no concern of yours,’ she hisses. Which means so many things.

‘No, that’s right, she’s yours and Jack’s baby, isn’t she? The two of you get to play God over somebody else’s life. You accuse Laura of wanting glory? The two of you couldn’t be worse.’

While they shout abuse at each other, Laura looks from one to the other in alarm. Her eyes fill with tears, her hands go to her ears at the awful sound, the venom, the anger and hatred emanating from two people who are supposed to love each other.

‘Stop it!’ she shrieks.

They both look at her. She’s trembling. She looks directly at Bo.

‘The show bought me these clothes. I have to return them when it’s over. Bianca gave me these magazines. Every single one of them has asked me to do an interview or a photoshoot. They wanted me to look through them to see. I said no to all of them but the one I said yes to are paying me. In case you haven’t noticed, I have no money.’ She says this, anger rising in her voice. ‘I can’t pay for my food because I have no money. I can’t pay for my clothes because I have no money. I can’t buy you anything or give you anything in return for what you’ve done for me because I have no money.

‘Aside from not having any money, I couldn’t get a passport. I had no birth certificate. I had no baptism records, no school records, not even a letter from somebody who could attest to me being born in Ireland. I had to go on national radio to tell my personal story to get a passport,’ she says, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. ‘Do you know how humiliating that was? Do you think I wanted to do that? Apparently, the contract that you assisted me in signing states that I’m obligated to carry out all promotional duties that StarrQuest request of me. Australia is included in that, but you don’t need to worry because it doesn’t look as though I’ll be able to get my hands on a passport because there is nobody in the world who is a witness to my birth or existence.