Dream House (22 page)

I frown.

“And why should I trust you? I don't even know you,” I say, still sounding a bit ruder than I actually mean to.

Marvin seems to be prepared for this question, and as soon as I finish my sentence he slides something else across the table. A newspaper.

I snatch it up and recognise the picture from the front cover of the edition which fell to the floor that day. It's the article about the accident—I knew that it had happened around here, I just hadn't bothered reading it to find out exactly where. Or to whom.

While I scan through the words, flashes of memories begin to emerge, dim at first but rapidly becoming more vivid. I remember playing in the backyard with Avery, and meeting Alfred, the new gardener, for the first time. And I remember running to Amabel in fear—fear of
him
—after hearing about the legend of the Derfla from somebody in school. I was certain that he was planning to eat me at night. So certain that at one point I started sleeping in my wardrobe.

I remember the day Avery gave me the sun necklace with the amethyst, the stone we both wear around our necks, and the promise he made to always come back to me.

I remember the day I told Amabel and Marvin that I wanted to leave to look for my natural parents—that not knowing their reasons for giving me up for adoption was killing me inside, and that the only way for me to ever be happy would be to meet them in person.

I remember everything.

Even the day I came back here.

I was so excited to be finally getting back home. The weather was cold, but the sky was clear and the autumn air was crisp. I'd climbed aboard a train someplace far away and spent the long journey scribbling away on a notepad, trying to work out exactly what I was going to say when I finally got here. But none of the things I wrote down really managed to express what it was I wanted to tell them.

After getting off the train at the station, I'd walked all the way back to the house, watching the huddle of quaint old buildings in the centre gradually give way to the countryside as the houses grew fewer and farther between.

I'd taken my time, savouring that stroll down the cracked old pavement by the fields, until, finally, there I was—standing on the opposite side of the road, looking at the house.

I'd taken a deep breath, and started to cross.

And then the car arrived.

It was way off in the distance when I noticed it—and then suddenly it was right there, not in the distance anymore.

Out of nowhere, a silver blur, travelling so fast that it didn't seem real—so fast that I didn't even
try
to move.

Out of control.

I didn't hear the roar of its engine, only the screech of the brakes, and when it hit me the impact was so violent that it felt as though I'd been turned into white light and launched into a black hole.

And then everything was totally, absolutely black until I found myself standing in front of the Blooms' house.

“I'm grateful,” I say in a quiet voice. “I need to thank you for everything that you've done for me.”

I look up at them.

“And I'll never forget it. Ever again.”

Tears start to stream down Amabel's peachy cheeks.

I remember everything, now. I take a deep breath and continue. “After searching for them for so long, it finally struck me—I realised that it was you two who were my real parents, nobody else. And that's why I was coming back to you. To let you know that I love you.”

Even Marvin's eyes start to glisten with tears, and suddenly we are all hugging one another tightly once again. We stay that way for a long time.

It's a moment of total peace, but when it ends I still have one question left.

“How can I be talking to you, though? Are you both—” I ask, my heart racing at the idea.

“No, no, dear—we're fine,” Amabel assures me immediately.

“We tried to make contact with you before, but it just never worked, so we had to wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“Well, we hoped you would pick up on the hints we kept leaving you. But instead it appears that we kept scaring you away. So we just trusted that if we had you here until today, the thirty-first of October, we might be able to get through the barrier between our worlds and talk to you—and it worked, luckily,” Marvin explains, sounding surprised by his own words.

I let it all sink in, and finally I understand—finally
really
understand—what all the bizarre things that have been happening to me actually were.

I open my arms again for another, longer family hug, and then, wishing that I didn't have to let go, I silently say my goodbyes to my parents.

My necklace in my hand, I walk outside. There's one more thing that needs to be done. I stand there for a moment on the porch, listening to the trees rustling and rattling in the wind.

Evening is drawing in over the fields. As I gaze off into the distance, I hear screeches of laughter approaching, and a gang of children runs into view. The one in front is clutching a pumpkin to his chest and desperately trying to keep ahead of his friends—a miniature Frankenstein's monster and a small zombie who are chasing after him, their arms held straight out in front of them, their fingers clawed in monstrous menace. A tiny ghost wearing white All Stars brings up the rear.

As they pass the house, the little phantom stops and bends over, her hands on her knees. Even through her sheet, it's obvious she's panting with exhaustion.

She stays like that for a second, then lifts her ghostly head, seemingly looking over at me. I wave. Her hand moves as though maybe she's about to wave back, but a particularly piercing squeal of amusement from the others sends her racing off in pursuit.

I watch them run along the pavement until they're out of sight, and sigh.

Time to go.

But instead of heading towards the main gate and letting myself out, I turn the corner of the house.

Avery is standing there waiting for me on his side of the gateway. Exactly as I'd imagined.

He pushes the wooden gate open for me.

When I reach for him, I feel calm and serene. Nothing worries me anymore.

He holds out his hand, and I take it.

A wry smile on his face, he says, “I told you I wouldn't leave you.”

“Through the wind and through the clouds, we will rise up from the ground,

Over hills, above the trees, we will ride the breeze like bumblebees.

Hand in hand, exploring the seven seas, you and I will forever be at our ease.”