The Scrapbook by Carly Holmes

Author:Carly Holmes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epub, ebook, QuarkXPress
ISBN: 111-1-11-111111-1
Publisher: Parthian Books
Published: 2014-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

Spell To Forget

Write down that which you wish to forget onto

a twist of paper.

Dry and powder two knuckle-sized pieces of

Valerian Root.

Place in a bowl with two sprigs of

Crushed Rosemary and a torn

Sage leaf.

Add the paper.

Set the mix alight and breathe deeply of

the smoke it produces.

Forgetfulness will begin to enter your psyche.

When the smoke has cleared take to your bed

and when you awake your troubled thoughts

will have fled.

You may then discard the ashes.

To Make Another Forget:

This should only be attempted with caution and after much consideration for this involves meddling with another’s mind.

Add to the bowl a photograph of the one

whom you wish to be relieved of their memory.

Or draw a picture and name their image.

Set the mix alight but do not breathe in the smoke.

Take the ashes after the flames have died

and bury them beneath a sapling oak.

Ensure that they are not ever disturbed.

Dearest Rose,

January 8th ’46

We have a daughter! Born last week after an excruciating labour that, at times, I thought was going to kill us both. We’re calling her Iris, do you like that name? She’s a crotchety little thing, barely opens her eyes before she’s yelling for something, and is as velvety-wrinkled as the inside of a pug’s ear. Do you remember the time we dressed that unfortunate little creature of Mrs Ellis’ in my doll’s dress and bonnet, and it ran away before I could take them back off? She refused to admit there was a funny side when she saw her precious poppet shuffling up the garden path like a Victorian matron! She wouldn’t hear of you being involved either, as I recall, the fault had to be all mine.

But back to Iris. She has all her fingers and toes, and is in the rudest health, so I’m informed. She’s certainly the loudest baby in the nursery and is already attracting disapproving glances from the nurses! ‘Baby Gilbert, I’ll bet,’ whisper the other mothers, smugly nursing their own floppy, subdued babes. Can you believe some women are chloroformed when they are in labour? What that must do to those tiny hearts and souls I dread to think. I refused everything but the catnip tea I’d brought in with me, which, I have to say, did less than I was hoping to relieve the pain. I hadn’t realised there’d be so much blood. I’ve been kept to my bed for the last week and I don’t mind the rest actually.

Edgar was made to stay in the corridor and he had a terrible time listening to me screaming. He told me afterwards that there were quite a collection of expectant fathers in that night, some pacing the floor alongside him but others playing poker and chatting up the nurses. Can you imagine that? Edgar said that they’re probably the ones who are on their fourth or fifth child and joked that when we get to that number he’ll be so relaxed that he’ll buy a pack of cards for himself!

He is delighted with Iris and spends more time at the nursery mooning over her than by my bed, but I forgive him that.

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