memories is of them arguing about “her.” Dad was (still is) incredibly handsome, like Gabriel, so women would virtually throw themselves at him, and he fought most of them off—but not all.
So eventually they split up and we lived with Mum and my nan outside Marseille and Dad lived in Switzerland with a string of increasingly younger women. Mum seemed happy but was never interested in other men, still hoping Dad would come back. She didn’t have any boyfriends until Finn, who turned out to be the worst possible choice. Finn started off sweet and thoughtful, but soon his little jealousies became big ones and then they developed into huge all-encompassing green-eyed monsters.
I was in my bedroom when I heard Mum and Finn arguing downstairs. They’d argued the day before when Mum called him Raf (Dad’s name) and I have a feeling she’d done it again because I heard Finn shouting, “You never stop thinking of him!” There was silence. Then, “Do you think I’m him? Do you want me to be him?” and finally lots of name-calling and swearing. I went out onto the landing to listen, hoping to find Gab, but he wasn’t there. Neither was Nan, which was a relief.
I strained to hear what was going on, but their voices had gone quieter. Then I heard a bang and then another. I thought Mum was throwing things. I wasn’t surprised—she always was fiery. There was more shouting and banging, then silence. I hurtled downstairs, through the hall and into the kitchen, where I slid to a halt. Finn was standing over Mum, holding the wooden chair he’d hit her with. Mum was splayed on the floor, the side of her skull broken open.
Finn looked shocked. I don’t think he meant to do it. He put the chair down carefully, but then Nan came in through the back door. She’d been gardening and still had pruning shears in her hand. She threw them at him, though they didn’t kill him—they missed by a mile and almost got me. It was the flames from her hand that killed him. She kept them on him and he screamed and staggered around, then collapsed. I wanted to ring for an ambulance, but Nan said, “Don’t be so stupid. Your mother’s dead.”
Gab came home an hour or so later. I was sitting on the stairs, waiting for him, but I couldn’t speak, and Nan had to tell him what had happened. He kept his arm round me the whole time. Late that evening he said, “I’ve got to ring Dad. Tell him.” Dad said he’d be with us as soon as he could.
The next day Finn’s body was still on the kitchen floor with a sheet over him. Nan had insisted that Gab and I help move Mum’s body to the dining room. She laid Mum out on the table and had been alternating between cursing Finn and doting on her dead daughter, arranging her body.
Dad arrived late in the afternoon and it was only a few minutes before he and Nan were shouting at each other: Nan blaming Dad for Mum’s death, Dad blaming Nan for not protecting Mum. Nan started sending flames out of her hand around the room. The kitchen units started smoldering; the sheet covering Finn caught fire. I know Dad was thinking, “She’s going to kill me too.” And I have a feeling he was right: Nan was a powerful witch and despised Dad, as she did all men.
Gab was trying to pull me out of the room as it was filling with smoke. But I wanted Dad and Nan to come. I was scared. I grabbed at Nan and a flame leaped across at me and my jacket caught fire. I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt me, and I was OK. I ripped my jacket off and Gab stamped on it and then put it over Finn’s body, trying to smother the flames, but the whole kitchen was burning by then and the smoke was getting thick. Gab pulled me down to crouch low, where the air was clearer, and we scuttled to the back door, but Nan was standing in our way.
Dad shouted, “Let them out!” And he charged at Nan. He had a large kitchen knife in his hand and then the knife was in Nan’s chest, her heart, and then her body collapsed to the floor
So eventually they split up and we lived with Mum and my nan outside Marseille and Dad lived in Switzerland with a string of increasingly younger women. Mum seemed happy but was never interested in other men, still hoping Dad would come back. She didn’t have any boyfriends until Finn, who turned out to be the worst possible choice. Finn started off sweet and thoughtful, but soon his little jealousies became big ones and then they developed into huge all-encompassing green-eyed monsters.
I was in my bedroom when I heard Mum and Finn arguing downstairs. They’d argued the day before when Mum called him Raf (Dad’s name) and I have a feeling she’d done it again because I heard Finn shouting, “You never stop thinking of him!” There was silence. Then, “Do you think I’m him? Do you want me to be him?” and finally lots of name-calling and swearing. I went out onto the landing to listen, hoping to find Gab, but he wasn’t there. Neither was Nan, which was a relief.
I strained to hear what was going on, but their voices had gone quieter. Then I heard a bang and then another. I thought Mum was throwing things. I wasn’t surprised—she always was fiery. There was more shouting and banging, then silence. I hurtled downstairs, through the hall and into the kitchen, where I slid to a halt. Finn was standing over Mum, holding the wooden chair he’d hit her with. Mum was splayed on the floor, the side of her skull broken open.
Finn looked shocked. I don’t think he meant to do it. He put the chair down carefully, but then Nan came in through the back door. She’d been gardening and still had pruning shears in her hand. She threw them at him, though they didn’t kill him—they missed by a mile and almost got me. It was the flames from her hand that killed him. She kept them on him and he screamed and staggered around, then collapsed. I wanted to ring for an ambulance, but Nan said, “Don’t be so stupid. Your mother’s dead.”
Gab came home an hour or so later. I was sitting on the stairs, waiting for him, but I couldn’t speak, and Nan had to tell him what had happened. He kept his arm round me the whole time. Late that evening he said, “I’ve got to ring Dad. Tell him.” Dad said he’d be with us as soon as he could.
The next day Finn’s body was still on the kitchen floor with a sheet over him. Nan had insisted that Gab and I help move Mum’s body to the dining room. She laid Mum out on the table and had been alternating between cursing Finn and doting on her dead daughter, arranging her body.
Dad arrived late in the afternoon and it was only a few minutes before he and Nan were shouting at each other: Nan blaming Dad for Mum’s death, Dad blaming Nan for not protecting Mum. Nan started sending flames out of her hand around the room. The kitchen units started smoldering; the sheet covering Finn caught fire. I know Dad was thinking, “She’s going to kill me too.” And I have a feeling he was right: Nan was a powerful witch and despised Dad, as she did all men.
Gab was trying to pull me out of the room as it was filling with smoke. But I wanted Dad and Nan to come. I was scared. I grabbed at Nan and a flame leaped across at me and my jacket caught fire. I’m sure she didn’t mean to hurt me, and I was OK. I ripped my jacket off and Gab stamped on it and then put it over Finn’s body, trying to smother the flames, but the whole kitchen was burning by then and the smoke was getting thick. Gab pulled me down to crouch low, where the air was clearer, and we scuttled to the back door, but Nan was standing in our way.
Dad shouted, “Let them out!” And he charged at Nan. He had a large kitchen knife in his hand and then the knife was in Nan’s chest, her heart, and then her body collapsed to the floor
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