Page 209 of The Moon Sister
Marcella was waiting for me by her Punto to drive to the airport. ‘Ready, Tiggy?’
I gave one last wave and a smile to my family. ‘Ready,’ I nodded.
*
Later that evening, I flew home to Atlantis in the private plane Ma had arranged, my head still full of my past, but also my present. Things being how they were, I decided I wouldn’t even contemplate the future. When Ma met me at the dock and Christian handed me off the speedboat into her warm, comforting embrace, I remembered what Angelina had said about those who loved us wanting to be given a chance to care for us. I was here for a few weeks to rest and that was that.
So, I surrendered to the comforting cocoon that constituted convalescence at Atlantis. My bed sat in the middle of the room to take advantage of the wonderful view of Lake Geneva. I lay like a princess in my airy attic retreat, and found that – both mentally and physically – I was far more tired than I’d imagined. When I reflected on the drama of the past few weeks, it probably wasn’t that surprising, so I listened to my body and gave in to its demands. Often, to the sound of Meñique’s soothing voice and guitar music on my old portable CD player, I’d find myself dropping off after lunch, coming to an hour or so later. Claudia, our wonderful housekeeper, insisted on bringing me up breakfast, lunch and dinner, plus a night-time mug of hot oat milk and homemade cookies.
But by the end of the first week I was becoming restless. ‘Please, Claudia, won’t you let me come downstairs for supper tonight?’ I begged as she delivered yet another tray of food. ‘You must be worn out climbing the stairs ten times a day! And I really am feeling stronger . . .’
‘Nein, liebling. You must stay in bed and rest.’
It was obvious that Charlie had been in contact with Ma, and both my carers irritatingly insisted on following his advice to the hilt and beyond – I’d been forbidden to leave my bedroom and I’d even had to physically prevent Ma escorting me into my bathroom when I’d first arrived. But as the next week passed and it was obvious I was fighting a losing battle, I capitulated and began to think how I could use the time I had wisely. Angelina always said that everything happened for a reason, and as I pulled all my notes I’d taken in Sacromonte from my rucksack and began to commit them to memory, I decided she’d been right. The process made me ponder how exactly I was meant to use my newfound skills. Was I meant to change my career path completely and set up shop as a full-time herbalist-cum-spiritualist like my ancestors? These days, to practise that kind of thing professionally – whether it was prescribing powerful herbal remedies or laying hands on injured bodies, human or animal – involved having qualifications that showed you knew what you were talking about. Ten days with an ancient Spanish gypsy would not cut the mustard in today’s bureaucratic world. Thebrujasof the past had treated customers who trusted completely in their gifts; they’d had no need for certificates to confirm the practitioner’s talents.
I spent many hours staring out of the window at the mountains on the other side of the lake and wondering how I could incorporate what I’d learnt into my work. And the more I thought about it, the more I realised that Chilly might have had a point when he’d declared that I’d chosen the wrong path. Animal conservation was great, but I knew for certain now that I wanted to use my skills on the animals themselves.
‘Your powerisin your hands, Tiggy,’ I murmured, staring at them earnestly.
I then thought about Fiona, the way her man-made medicine had seen Thistle recover within a couple of days. And Charlie and Angelina, using both modern and holistic methods to care for me and Ally, and I wondered if there was a way I could combine the two . . .
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ I sighed, frustrated that everything had been so straightforward when I was working for Margaret. Animals, fresh Highland air, and busy from dawn to dusk. I went online to have a look at courses that could possibly qualify me in the ‘normal’ world to practise on animals. And to my surprise, found a number of holistic ones, including one in Reiki.And, as Fiona had mentioned, there was a list of alternative veterinary practitioners working in such a way.
‘Would I really want to go back to uni to retrain as a vet for all those years?’ I asked myself as I chewed the end of my biro. ‘No!’ I shook my head in frustration. ‘I’d be an old lady by the time I came out, and besides, I don’t want to cut them up and study the inner workings of their lymphatic system. There has to be another way . . .’
As I grew physically stronger, I found myself wide awake at night. So, after Ma had been in to take my blood pressure and say goodnight, and I’d heard her walk softly down the corridor to her suite of rooms, I gave her half an hour to fall asleep before I rose from the bed and began to prowl around the house. The first time I’d felt the urge to do this, I thought that it was simply because I had cabin fever, but as I got up night after night to resume my nocturnal ramblings, it struck me that I was searching for something – or more accurately, someone . . .
I felt Pa’s presence in this house so strongly it was as if he had just stood up from his desk to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, or to climb the stairs to his bed.
I found myself rifling through his desk drawers for any evidence of him being here recently, or any clues I might find to explain the enigma of my beloved father.
‘Who were you?’ I asked as I picked up a small icon painted with an image of the Madonna and wondered if Pa had been religious. He’d certainly taken us all to church when we were small, but had allowed us to choose whether we wanted to attend as we grew up.
I then noticed a forlorn bunch of herbs held together by a fraying length of string. I took it carefully from the shelf, seeing in my mind’s eye the gypsy who had accosted me in the plaza in Granada and had somehow known my nickname.
‘Did you get this when you were there?’ I whispered to the air, closing my eyes and asking my spirit guide for an answer. The problem was, I didn’t know if Pawasone now, or not.
‘If you are up there, please speak to me,’ I whispered.
But no answer came.
*
‘Ma, I’m begging you, I can’t stay in this bed any longer! Please – it’s a beautiful day.’ I pointed at the weak March sun melting the frost on the window pane. ‘After so many days inside, I’m sure Charlie would approve of me getting some fresh air.’
‘I don’t know,’ Ma sighed. ‘Besides the risk of you catching a chill, there’s all those stairs to get back up to bed.’
‘If you really insist, I’ll let Christian carry me back upstairs,’ I suggested.
‘I’m afraid Christian isn’t here today but . . .’ I could see Ma was mulling something over. ‘I will talk with Claudia and Charlie,chérie. Oh, I almost forgot, you have a letter.’
‘Thanks.’
Ma left the room and I opened the slim envelope, noting it had come from overseas.
26th February 2008
Majete Wildlife Reserve
