Take Me Home by Daniela Sacerdoti

Author:Daniela Sacerdoti [Sacerdoti, Daniela]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Black & White Publishing
Published: 2013-12-18T00:00:00+00:00

20

Remedies

Inary

Aunt Mhairi’s tablet was heavenly, just like everything else she made. I was attacking a second square and sipping a cup of tea. We were sitting at her kitchen table, a notebook, already littered with conversations, ready beside my mug.

I’d figured that Aunt Mhairi might know who Mary was – her clothes and hairstyle told me that she would have lived in Glen Avich in the late nineteenth century, which was her grandmother, my great-grandmother’s, generation. Aunt Mhairi might have stories about Glen Avich from when her gran was a little girl. Maybe some about Mary herself? I was going to try and find out something about her without explaining why I wanted to know. Aunt Mhairi had no reason to know about the Sight – being my father’s sister, it didn’t run in her family.

I brought the conversation on to my parents’ house – some work to the roof was needed – it was an old house – it’s been in our family for generations . . . I saw my chance.

Was there ever a Mary living there?

“Mary? Let me think. Well, it’s an old house, and Mary used to be a very common name . . . Why do you ask?”

I dished out the excuse I had prepared. Researching a book.

“Oh, a book, that’s nice.” She adjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose and stirred her tea.

I quickly scrawled: Do you have any stories about a Mary living in Glen Avich from when your gran was young?

“Well, I don’t know how much help I can be, dear. My granny passed away when I was wee, and your grandfather never talked about his childhood much. Why don’t you go and have a look in the Heritage Collection in Kinnear? Sheila Ramsay swears by it, you know she’s big into family trees and all that.” I nodded – it was a good idea. “Inary, now listen, love. Don’t take this the wrong way, but about your voice, dearie . . .”

I sighed. Another remedy? Because nearly everyone seemed to have one, and I’d tried them all. Milk and honey, peppermint tea, mint tea, ice-cold water or near-scalding water, warm compresses on my chest, an ice pack on my throat, anchovies. Yes, anchovies. Apparently they work wonders at keeping singers’ voices strong and clear. So maybe my voice would return and I would start a singing career . . . but all that those anchovies had done was stink out our fridge and make me drink a gallon of water.

I plastered a smile on my face, waiting for Aunt Mhairi’s suggestion. Dried ground newt to be taken on the night of a full moon, maybe?

“Well, you see, Maggie and Liz, you know my friends . . .”

Oh yes, the funeral experts.

“They were wondering if maybe the well . . . St Colman’s well. It’s supposed to perform miracles . . .”

I laughed. It’s supposed to help women have babies!

“Yes, well, I know, but these are exceptional circumstances. St Colman will know what you need.

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