They took a house by the river and lived in a world that straddled the two, half dry half damp. Over time, though, my mother became unhappy because the Thames was dirty and people said she was dirty too. She became sad and lonely and took to midnight swims amongst the tugs. Her eyes became infected. I think she probably cried too much.
Marvellous finished her ale. Are you all right? she said.
Drake nodded. Smoked the last of his cigarette and stubbed it out.
You look very pale, said Marvellous. Seem tired all of a sudden.
Maybe, said Drake, and he shifted down the bed. Marvellous leant across and adjusted his pillows. She pulled the blanket up to his neck and made sure his feet were tucked in at the bottom. She had a vague memory of someone doing that for her when she was small. She began to button up her jacket.
Where are you going? he asked.
Back to my caravan.
Don’t go. Stay, he said.
Three words, beautiful. The old woman sat back down. So? she said into the silence.
Drake placed his hand across his forehead. Just keep talking, will you?
What about?
Anything, said Drake.
What sort of anything?
Your parents. There you go.
What about them? she said.
Did they stay in London?
Oh no. My father gave my mother a hand-drawn map of the Cornish Peninsula and said I’ll meet you here. Well, my mother arrived before him, of course, because she was half fish, and when she came across this sheltered creek and saw ramsons and bluebells sprouting from the mud, she knew instinctively that it would be her home.
Days later when my father arrived at the confluence, my mother leapt out of the water with her hands across her rounded belly and said, She’s coming soon! – Me, obviously. She knew I was a she by the way I swam inside her. Boys swim in circles.
Drake nodded wearily.
My father had money and bought everything he could see – land, river, chapel, too – and he built this boathouse, and they collected food from the shore and every high water night or day, that sacred time when the river stills, they swam; because that’s what mermaids do. And then sometime in – and Marvellous thought hard for a moment – in 1858, I believe, I slipped out like an eel and surfaced in a ripple of light, where my first breath was scented with the sweetness of wild honeysuckle. I had feet not fins, my father’s brow and my mother’s eyes. But, more importantly, I had my mother’s heart. I never met her, though. She was shot just after my birth. I think someone mistook her for a seal.
Jesus, said Drake.
Marvellous shrugged. You should sleep, she said.
No, wait a minute, he said. Tell me. What did your father do when your mother died?
What did he do? He stopped breathing, said Marvellous.
He died?
No, he stopped breathing.
Died?
Are you doing this on purpose?
Doing what?
I said he stopped breathing . There’s a difference, you know. It was as if a blade had shucked his heart like an oyster and stolen the beauty within. He said his heart never started beating again, it just started working and I never understood the difference, not until I was much older anyway, when I learnt that coming back from the dead is not quite the same as coming back to life. Know what I mean?
And she stuffed her thinking pipe with black twist and held a match above the bowl, and said nothing more. She waited for night to take him and it took him swiftly and deeply. His head tilted back and snores became soft growls. She rested her hand across his brow and whispered good night. She didn’t leave straight away, sat and watched the rise and fall of his sleep.
18
D rake slept soundly throughout the following day and only awoke at the handover of sun to moon when the old woman staggered through the door and placed the pot of steamed mussels and cockles on to the crane above the fire. The smell was divine and his hunger was ragged. He was feeling stronger he could tell, but the old woman looked weaker.
They ate the river stew with stale
Marvellous finished her ale. Are you all right? she said.
Drake nodded. Smoked the last of his cigarette and stubbed it out.
You look very pale, said Marvellous. Seem tired all of a sudden.
Maybe, said Drake, and he shifted down the bed. Marvellous leant across and adjusted his pillows. She pulled the blanket up to his neck and made sure his feet were tucked in at the bottom. She had a vague memory of someone doing that for her when she was small. She began to button up her jacket.
Where are you going? he asked.
Back to my caravan.
Don’t go. Stay, he said.
Three words, beautiful. The old woman sat back down. So? she said into the silence.
Drake placed his hand across his forehead. Just keep talking, will you?
What about?
Anything, said Drake.
What sort of anything?
Your parents. There you go.
What about them? she said.
Did they stay in London?
Oh no. My father gave my mother a hand-drawn map of the Cornish Peninsula and said I’ll meet you here. Well, my mother arrived before him, of course, because she was half fish, and when she came across this sheltered creek and saw ramsons and bluebells sprouting from the mud, she knew instinctively that it would be her home.
Days later when my father arrived at the confluence, my mother leapt out of the water with her hands across her rounded belly and said, She’s coming soon! – Me, obviously. She knew I was a she by the way I swam inside her. Boys swim in circles.
Drake nodded wearily.
My father had money and bought everything he could see – land, river, chapel, too – and he built this boathouse, and they collected food from the shore and every high water night or day, that sacred time when the river stills, they swam; because that’s what mermaids do. And then sometime in – and Marvellous thought hard for a moment – in 1858, I believe, I slipped out like an eel and surfaced in a ripple of light, where my first breath was scented with the sweetness of wild honeysuckle. I had feet not fins, my father’s brow and my mother’s eyes. But, more importantly, I had my mother’s heart. I never met her, though. She was shot just after my birth. I think someone mistook her for a seal.
Jesus, said Drake.
Marvellous shrugged. You should sleep, she said.
No, wait a minute, he said. Tell me. What did your father do when your mother died?
What did he do? He stopped breathing, said Marvellous.
He died?
No, he stopped breathing.
Died?
Are you doing this on purpose?
Doing what?
I said he stopped breathing . There’s a difference, you know. It was as if a blade had shucked his heart like an oyster and stolen the beauty within. He said his heart never started beating again, it just started working and I never understood the difference, not until I was much older anyway, when I learnt that coming back from the dead is not quite the same as coming back to life. Know what I mean?
And she stuffed her thinking pipe with black twist and held a match above the bowl, and said nothing more. She waited for night to take him and it took him swiftly and deeply. His head tilted back and snores became soft growls. She rested her hand across his brow and whispered good night. She didn’t leave straight away, sat and watched the rise and fall of his sleep.
18
D rake slept soundly throughout the following day and only awoke at the handover of sun to moon when the old woman staggered through the door and placed the pot of steamed mussels and cockles on to the crane above the fire. The smell was divine and his hunger was ragged. He was feeling stronger he could tell, but the old woman looked weaker.
They ate the river stew with stale
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