Phaedra Patrick - The Library of Lost and Found

Thomas nodded. Still holding the book, he reached up and stroked her cheek. ‘That’s so thoughtful of you, but they only got the encyclopedias recently. They’re much better for them than this kind of nonsense. And we don’t want to spoil them, do we? Money is tight, too.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Hmm, perhaps I could do you a favour, and take this back to the shop.’

Betty felt she couldn’t argue with his logic. When he explained things to her, about their finances, about why he didn’t want her mother to buy silly toys for the girls, he always made sense. If she ever tried to put her own point forward about anything, he listened but, ultimately, he was older and knew what was best.

With a mixture of sadness, guilt and gratitude, she handed him the pink-and-white striped bag with the receipt inside. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

‘Anything to help,’ he said with a peck to her cheek. He slipped the book into the bag and tucked it under his arm. ‘Now I’ll let you get on with your reading. I think Martha might like the section on flowers, in the encyclopedias.’

‘She’s read it a few times already,’ Betty said quietly.

‘Her favourite, obviously.’

As Thomas moved away, back towards the door to the dining room, the doorbell rang.

Betty knew he didn’t like her to open the front door to strangers, so she walked over to the window. Hitching the curtain to one side, she saw her mother’s blonde curls wrapped up in a silk scarf. Her long turquoise dress flapped in the breeze, and Betty could already smell her perfume, Estée Lauder’s Youth Dew. ‘It’s Mum,’ she said over her shoulder.

Thomas’s spine stiffened. ‘What does she want?’ he asked with a sniff.

Martha jumped up. ‘Nana.’ She rushed past him into the hallway and yanked open the front door.

Zelda entered the living room with her granddaughter’s arms wrapped around her waist, and with her cheek pressed firm to her bosom.

‘I’ve written a new story, Nana,’ Martha said.

‘Fabulous. I can’t wait to hear it.’ Zelda gently peeled Martha away and looked around. ‘Well, hello, Thomas,’ she said, as if noticing him for the first time. ‘That bag you’re holding is pretty. Are you embracing your feminine side?’

Thomas flashed a stiff smile. ‘Nice to see you, Zelda. This is just something I’m returning to the shop, for Betty.’

‘That’s so very thoughtful of you.’

Betty wondered if anyone else could detect the disdain in Zelda’s and Thomas’s voices when they spoke to each other. Thomas’s tone grew a little higher and quicker, and Zelda’s was more nasal with a hint of a sneer. There was always tension between the two of them, but she did her best to ignore it.

Her mother had told her many times that Thomas was too stiff and set in his ways. Whereas Thomas thought Zelda was too flighty and didn’t take things seriously enough.

‘It’s a copy of Beauty and the Beast ,’ Martha said. ‘We got to read it, before Dad takes it back. You’d have loved it.’

‘I’m sure I would have done,’ Zelda said. She glared in Thomas’s direction. ‘Luckily, I’ve brought something else for you, my glorious girl.’ She reached into her large turquoise handbag and pulled out a flamingo-pink plastic mirror, the size of a dinner plate. It had white plastic daisies around its frame.

Martha gasped. ‘It’s beautiful. Thanks, Nana,’ she said, as she took hold of it. ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall…’

‘Who’s the fairest of them all?’ Zelda said. ‘You and Lilian are. You can use this to see how pretty you both are.’

Betty watched as Thomas’s eyes narrowed with disapproval.

‘That’s very kind of you, Zelda,’ he said. ‘But the children have got far too many things already. You should save your money for a rainy day.’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Zelda shrugged. She knelt down on the floor. ‘Now, don’t let me delay you, Thomas. No need to stay around on my behalf.’

Thomas ran his tongue over his top teeth. He stared at Betty, trying to catch her eye, but she pretended not to notice and glanced away. Eventually, he said, ‘I’ll see you later,’ and closed the door behind him.

Zelda gave a pronounced sigh, exaggerating her relief that he’d gone. ‘Now, I want to hear this new story of yours, Martha. ‘Will you tell it to me?’

Betty watched through the window as Thomas walked down the path and opened the gate.

Martha dropped down, cross-legged to the floor. Her plait swung as she picked up her notepad and found the right page. She cleared her throat and began to read aloud…

The Bird Girl

Once upon a time there was a girl who lived with her mother, father and sister. Although they should be a happy family, the girl often felt sad but didn’t know why. She sensed something strange in the air but didn’t know what it was .

Each night, when she went to bed, the girl dreamed that she was a bird. She would fly high into the sky, where being clever and perfect all the time didn’t matter .

One night, after a family tea where tension seemed to dance, unspoken, around the table again, the girl sat in her room, wringing her hands. She was fed up and she decided to try to glue feathers to her arms and legs, so she really could be like a bird. After taking a long time to carry out her task, she opened her bedroom window. But the ground looked too far down and she was afraid to jump .

In the morning, she peeled off the feathers and this made her skin red and sore. To explain it, she told her parents that she’d got sunburned while playing outside. But they were too busy looking after her little sister to be interested .

On the next night, the girl took the feathers and did the same thing. But, again, she couldn’t bring herself to leap out of the window .

And the pattern continued, night after night .

The girl would spend time with her family. She’d feel something wasn’t right and then she’d apply her feathers .

One evening, as the girl clenched her fists, unable to bring herself to jump again, a blackbird stood on the window ledge. He tapped his yellow beak against the window, inviting the girl to open it .

The girl did so and crawled out to join him. The blackbird cocked his head and waited beside her for a long time, until she finally found the courage to step off .

On this first night, the girl tumbled to the ground and into a bush, where the branches and twigs scratched her face. The blackbird flew down and watched as she climbed out .

On the second night, the girl landed with such force that her knees buckled. But the blackbird stayed by her side until she could walk back to the house .

On the third night, the girl flew out over the garden gate, high into the sky, where she almost touched the stars. Then she landed at the edge of a beautiful lake .

Everything was quiet, still and beautiful, and the blackbird settled on her shoulder. But although she had flown, the girl felt sad. ‘I don’t know what to do, little bird,’ she said. ‘For a long time, I’ve felt like flying away, but now I’m not so sure. Do you think I should stay at home, even though I feel like I don’t belong there?’

The blackbird flew away and reappeared with a broken piece of mirror which he held up. The girl looked at her reflection and saw that the feathers she applied each night had grown into her skin. While she was waiting for things to change at home, she had changed too. She had grown more determined and independent and, looking at the little blackbird, she made up her mind .

Even though she didn’t know if the world was ready for a bird-girl, she stood on her tiptoes and flapped her arms. Then she and the blackbird flew away, never to return .