‘Cat?’
The girl is tall, slender. But... something’s not quite right.
My mind feels woolly, like it’s encased in yarn. I concentrate very hard and she appears before my mind’s eye. Cat: tall, graceful. Eyes the striking cerulean of a kingfisher’s wing.
This girl is looking at me with bright eyes the burnished brown of conkers.
‘I’m Lisa, Nan. Your granddaughter.’
‘What nonsense,’ I laugh. ‘I’m not old enough to be anyone’s grandmother.’
But my voice doesn’t sound right - it’s tremulous, like a sapling in a storm. And my hand when I lift it up to beckon the girl over trembles too. It is lined, the skin papery and liver spotted.
‘Something’s happened to me,’ I cry. ‘I…’
‘It’s okay, Nan.’ The girl squats next to me, taking my palm in her own. It is comforting although I wish she’d stop calling me Nan. It makes me feel old.
‘It’s punishment, isn’t it?’ I whisper.
‘Punishment?’
I am pinned within her honeyed caramel gaze.
‘For what happened to Cat.’
‘You keep mentioning this Cat. Who’s she, Nan?’
‘It was my fault. All mine.’
My brain is foggy. When I try to retrieve a thread from memory, it slips away, just out of reach. But there’s something nagging at me, something I mean to say…
Ah, a glimmer of sudden comprehension.
‘Cat, short for Catriona. Blue eyed, blonde, feisty. Full of life. We sat together the first day of school and became the best of friends although we couldn’t have been more different. Me: short, tubby, bookish. Cat with her film star looks, that charisma that drew people to her. She should have belonged with the popular girls. But she always gravitated to me. “You’re my oldest, best friend. You know me better than anyone,” she’d say, eyes shining, liquid pools of light, like the sky reflected in water.’
‘What happened to her? Why did you say it was punishment?’
A girl next to me, looking at me with keen eyes.
‘What punishment? Who’s being punished?’ I ask, puzzled.
‘Cat. You said Cat…’
Cat. A throbbing gush of pain, taking me over.
‘She… She shouldn’t have interfered. But she kept pushing and pushing.’
‘Who did she push, Nan?’
‘Who’s Nan?’ I ask, looking around.
But the girl is looking at me.
‘You said Cat pushed…’
‘Curiosity killed Cat.’ I muse.
The girl’s eyes wide. ‘She’s dead?’
Dead. Again that overwhelming sense of loss. Anguish, the stark purple of an open, festering wound. Layer upon layer of grief. Fresh and yet feeling old, familiar as a well worn cardigan.
My eyes sting.
‘I… I’m sorry, Nan.’
‘She shouldn’t have stood up to him. I told her not to. I warned her. But she… she was so brave. Completely fearless. Always looking out for me. Right until the end.’
‘What happened, Nan?’
I close my eyes and I see her - my best friend, my only friend when it came to it, when it mattered - lying broken at the bottom of the stairs.
‘I should have died. But it was her. She died. A waste of a life. I’ll never forgive myself.’
‘Why?’
‘Who are you? Where’s Cat?’
‘You said she died.’
Pain stabbing, consuming. ‘He pushed her down the stairs.’
‘Who?’
‘He cut me off from everyone. But Cat wouldn’t give up. She was tenacious. She kept calling, kept visiting. A good friend. I begged her to stay away, for her own sake. But she didn’t listen. Too caring for her own good: “I know something’s wrong. He’s controlling you. What are those bruises?” She was curious, insatiably so. Especially where I was concerned. She didn’t believe my lies. The lies he forced me to say. When she couldn’t make me leave him, when she saw how afraid I was of him, she confronted him herself. She threatened to call the police. And so, he killed her. And I stood by and did nothing. She gave up her life to protect me and I… I just stood there, in horror, watching as he pushed her down the stairs.’
My throat feels hoarse, salty. My face is wet. My heart is breaking.
Why?
‘Cat. Is that you?’
‘Nan, it’s…’
‘Cat. Go. Leave before he comes.’ I taste fear in my mouth, vomit yellow.
‘Nan, he’s not here.’
‘No. He’s not. He’s in prison.’ I let out the breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. Then, a wave of sorrow washing over me. ‘But it’s too late. Too late for Cat.’ My nose is dripping, my mouth bitter with the tang of iron and brine. ‘She saved me in the end. The neighbours heard the commotion and called the police.’ My heart weighted with guilt. Heavy with regret. ‘She gave me my life back at the cost of hers. I miss her. Every day. My best friend. Closer than a sister.’
I blink. My mind feels sluggish. But there’s something I need to say. What was it?
Ah yes.
‘Is that you, Cat?’
‘No, Nan...’
‘Cat. Where is she? Who are you?’ My voice a plaintive whisper. ‘Cat?’
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