Kite Spirit (15 page)

She found herself pounding the rocky ground, running downhill by the side of the waterfall, sliding occasionally on the damp rock, letting her feet feel their way as she skidded and leaped over
the bony ground. She threw her body forward, accelerating despite her overextended angle to the earth. Dawn’s warning cry echoed back at her from the day of the rope-swing accident.

‘Be careful, Kite, don’t jump. It’s too steep!’

If she fell here she would gash open her head on the rock and plunge senseless into the waterfall, but her feet held steadfastly to the path, her heart racing in her chest from this unexpected
burst of activity. There was no thought, just the rush of green and rock and branches lashing her face, a ledge and a drop of half her body height, a moment of flying, a heart-leap on to grass
littered with sheep droppings. She ran along by the side of the widening stream, feeling the heat of the sun on her back and the sweat trickling down her spine. Now she settled into an even pace,
enjoying the stretch of muscle and sinew in her legs, ignoring the feeling of dizziness as her head swam with exhaustion. She began to enjoy the floating sensation, her feet carrying her forward of
their own accord. At a turn in the stream she heard the sheepdog’s greeting. Now here he was running beside her, occasionally glancing her way. Then he pulled ahead and seemed to be leading
her. She followed him up the fell to a small lake nestled in the mountainside. Bardsey ran to the shore where a tiny waterfall cascaded into the lake – and drank thirstily. Kite collapsed on
the bank, her heart thudding so loudly she felt as if she was sending a racing heartbeat through the earth, like a roll of thunder. She stared up at the sky, where a gathering of red birds swirled
above her head.

The lake was surrounded by an imposing grey crag. Her eyes followed the red birds, whose huge wingspans dominated the sky as they swirled around and around. A vision of Annalisa on her cloud
swing entered her head.

The branches in the coppice of trees to her right rustled. She stood up and took a step closer. It was probably a deer: she had read in the guidebook that red deer were common in the area. Then
she heard it. Dawn’s beautiful playing meandering through the branches, so delicate and soft and warm that it broke her heart to hear it this close.

‘I love that.’

‘Really? It’s something I’m working on for my first concert.’

‘Can I come and see you?’

‘Yes! But don’t tell my mum and dad or they’ll invite everyone they know. Just let me get this first one out of the way.’

‘Are you nervous?’

‘Terrified!’

Dawn’s playing seeped into Kite just as it had done at that first concert when Kite had been so proud of her best friend.

Dawn stood between the trees and smiled at her, her fine auburn hair floating on the breeze. Her skin almost transparent. ‘I like it here,’ she sighed, looking up at the sky
. . .
‘It’s so peaceful. Thanks for bringing me. I know you need me for a while but I can’t stay forever. I can always play for you, though.’

Kite nodded, noticing the oboe tucked under Dawn’s arm.

‘Give me back my golden reed then!’ Dawn reached out her hand. Kite felt around in her pocket for the little box and handed it to Dawn. ‘My best present ever,’ said
Dawn, taking out the reed. She walked down to the water’s edge and dipped the reed in the lake, attached it to her oboe and began to play. The sound was so rich and tender and golden, it
could have made the earth weep.

‘There you are, Bardsey!’

Kite tried to lift her head to see where the voice was coming from, but the dog was frantically licking her face. The air felt cool on her skin. She opened her eyes. Everything looked different;
the blue had faded and the sun sat low in the sky. She gently pushed the dog away and sat up.

The boy she had seen on the road was staring at her. He looked different close up, less perfect than before. His nose was slightly bumpy over the bridge as if it had been broken. His grey eyes
held in them a deep look of concern. Around his neck was a leather necklace with a piece of flat circular slate resting on his collarbone, the grey-blue the same colour as his eyes. Bardsey barked
again and bounded at him as if he was a long-lost friend.

‘I hope he’s not been mithering you?’ the boy asked in a soft, low voice.

He was looking at her as if she was an alien that had just landed.

‘Did you run all the way up here?’

Kite nodded. ‘Why are you staring at me?’ she heard herself ask.

‘Sorry! Just never thought to come across you here, that’s all. Folk aren’t usually this adventurous. Are you all right? I mean . . .’ He stood awkwardly transferring
weight from foot to foot. From what she’d seen of him until now, Kite had imagined him to be more confident, like one of those perfect American high-school boys in films, handsome and golden,
glowing with health and motivation.

‘Why shouldn’t I be all right?’

‘No reason! I didn’t mean anything by it,’ he mumbled.

What was she going to say to this boy who probably already thought she was crazy? That she’d heard her friend, or rather the ghost of her friend, playing the oboe and it had sent her into
the deepest sleep she’d had in weeks?

‘Do you know what time it is?’ she asked.

‘Around six o’clock,’ the boy answered, looking up at the sun.

Seth would be beside himself with worry. She should get back, but part of her wanted to stay in this place that had given her a feeling of peace. She stood up and walked towards the lake,
wondering if any of this was real. She held her hands in the stream of running water and splashed her face several times. Her eyes felt sore and her cheeks stung as the icy water touched her
skin.

‘Taste it! Freshest spring water you’ll drink – some folk think it’s got healing powers,’ the boy said, coming to her side, cupping his hands together and taking a
glug himself. ‘So what brings you up here?’

Instead of answering, she dunked her hair into the flowing stream and threw her head back, splashing droplets behind her in a great, glistening rainbow arc. The boy seemed lost for words.

‘You’ve been crying,’ he said eventually.

Had she? Kite reached up to her face. That’s why her eyes stung – she must have been crying in her sleep. Maybe Dawn had drawn her here to sleep and to cry and perhaps she had a
plan, a reason why Kite should meet this awkward boy here too. The strange thing was that now that she was standing so close to him looking out over the flat surface of the lake, something about
his quietness and intent listening gaze reminded her of Dawn.

‘One of my favourite spots in the Lakes . . . this tarn, well, the whole of Kite Carrec really,’ he told her, looking up at the birds wheeling above their heads.

Kite bristled. What were the chances of finding herself in a place that bore her own name? The same place that Jack had shown them in the photo. So these red birds were kites. Grandma Grace
would definitely have said that she’d been led here for a reason. Kite reached up for her St Christopher. She had forgotten about it for a while, but the feel of it seemed to bring her back
into herself. The boy looked down at the necklace, eased himself away from the rock, picked up a piece of flat slate and started skimming stones across the lake. Ever-increasing circles danced on
the flat surface. The boy picked up another slate and handed it to Kite; she threw it flat across the water to form one, two, three, four widening circles. The boy turned and smiled at her.
She’d always been good at skimming stones.

Dawn’s death had not been a flat pebble. That sort of death would have been something like dying from a random inherited disease. It would have been awful and the ripples would have spread
wide across the life of her friends and family, but it would have been better than this. The stone Dawn had lobbed with her suicide had set off explosions in every direction, thought Kite, as she
watched the ripples ebb and flow into one another, settling once more into a smooth calm. The ripples of what Dawn had done would stretch out forever, and the water would never feel smooth or still
again.

‘I’m Garth,’ the boy said, interrupting her thoughts. She had almost forgotten he was here. She’d never heard the name before, but it seemed to fit him and this place so
well. Looking into his eyes now it was hard to tell exactly what colour they were; in this light they seemed to be more blue than grey.

‘I’m Kite,’ she managed.

‘You’re having me on!’ Garth laughed. ‘You didn’t fall from the sky, did you?’

His laughter jarred somewhere deep inside her as it echoed through the valley, as if he was mocking her. There was no way that he could have known how close to the truth his words felt. Above
them the red kites sent up a piercing screech. If this was all part of Dawn’s plan, she needed to understand how it all pieced together. She stroked Bardsey’s head and attempted to
gather her thoughts.

‘He’s Agnes Landseer’s dog, isn’t he?’

Garth looked a bit taken aback.

‘I’m staying at Mirror Falls,’ she explained.

‘She’s my gran; I’m up for the summer.’

So Garth was the beloved grandson that Dr Sherpa had mentioned.

‘But she’s insane.’

The words flew out of Kite’s mouth before she could stop them.

‘Is that what folk say?’ The sparkle went out of Garth’s eyes and he stood up abruptly. ‘Come away, Bardsey –’ he hesitated for a second– ‘unless
you need me to walk with you?’ he asked as he kicked at the ground in his beaten-up old walking boots.

Kite shook her head. To be honest, she wondered how she would actually make it back to Mirror Falls on her own, but she didn’t want him to think that she was weak. After all, how could he
know anything about Dawn or how disorientated she felt after sleeping through a whole day? She winced at a sharp shooting pain in her head and watched him walk away.

‘She’s been leaving notes at our door, that’s all!’ Kite called after him to offer some sort of explanation for her rudeness, but he had already disappeared into the
woods.

Her legs felt like steel as she climbed the last stretch of path along the waterfall to find Dr Sherpa’s grey Land Rover parked outside Mirror Falls. Now she remembered
why she’d run away in the first place.

‘So the wanderer returns!’ Dr Sherpa was sitting at the kitchen table. He half smiled, half frowned as Kite walked in.

The last thing she needed was to have to explain herself to this stranger. All she wanted now was to take a bath.

‘Your dad’s been going out of his mind with worry. The police and mountain rescue were about to set out to look for you.’

‘Where is Seth?’

‘He’s just walked to the end of the track to call off the search and to let your mam know you’re OK.’ Dr Sherpa pointed to the Dawn-owl window. ‘We just got in from
looking for you and then we saw you ambling back along the stream.’

Kite hesitated at the doorway, wondering if there was any way she might excuse herself.

‘You look all worn out. Come and sit down for a moment?’ suggested Dr Sherpa, pushing back the chair beside him. He had an authority that was hard to ignore. Now that she’d sat
down, her whole body seemed to collapse in on itself.

‘So what happened?’

‘I went running and then I fell asleep and the next thing I knew it was evening,’ Kite replied truthfully.

‘Aha! And how are you feeling now?’ Dr Sherpa asked, looking into Kite’s eyes. She felt that he would see straight through her if she lied.

‘I don’t know,’ Kite answered.

‘You know that your dad’s told me what happened to your friend,’ Dr Sherpa continued. ‘I am very sorry indeed.’

Kite shrugged.

‘I was concerned to hear that you haven’t been sleeping or eating properly, but it’s a very good sign, you sleeping all day. Not that I would have recommended it in this way
– a gentle walk might have been better,’ he smiled, indicating her running gear, ‘but the exercise might have done the trick.’ What would he have thought if she’d told
him that it was really Dawn that had found a way of getting her to sleep by playing her music?

‘You will probably find that you feel even more exhausted for a while,’ he continued. ‘You’ve got a lot of catching up to do. The more you sleep, the more you’ll
need to sleep. For a doctor I have never been very keen on pills. If you ask me, sleeping, eating, exercising and talking are the best medicine in the world!’ There was something slightly
hypnotic about the slow and steady way he spoke. ‘Of course, you must be prepared: your dreams may be troubled, but that’s the mind’s way of trying to process
everything.’

Dr Sherpa stood up from the table and peered down the path to see if Seth was coming. ‘I know you don’t want to talk to me, and that’s fine, but you must find some way of
letting your feelings out,’ he said.

Kite stared down at the table. When she didn’t reply he paced up and down the stepping-stone bridge as if he was searching for the right words.

‘I’d forgotten what an extraordinary house this is. You would never guess how many tons of concrete they had to mix to weight the building down at this end enough for it to
balance.’ He stomped his foot on the ground as he spoke. ‘Sometimes I think that it’s a bit like that, growing up. You need to have a sturdy foundation so that you can go out into
the world and face whatever’s in your path . . .’

Kite closed her eyes and sighed sleepily. But his talk of foundations took her back to a project she and Dawn had done at school in RE. They’d had to draw a picture of themselves and then
surround their self-portrait with all the elements that made them who they were. It had been one of the few pieces of homework Kite had found easy. She’d included kites and flying, and
Dawn’s name and a photo of them both, and school and the trapeze and Grandma Grace; she’d done a drawing of Ruby dancing and Seth’s guitar, her orange door and the birds of
paradise . . . she would have added more but she ran out of space. She had been so surprised when Dawn had called around asking for help with her assignment. It had nearly always been the other way
around.