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Home > Books > Tranby Quirke Excerpt |
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I returned to my flat that evening intending to work on my report regarding the spread of the Gospel in the Belgian Congo, but the rains which had fallen all day scarcely abated before returning, dark and menacing and blustery. The roof rattled, the windows shook and the cats stalked the perimeter of the room in terror. Bliss's mournful meowing punctuated the silence between thunderbolts, his mouth like a tiny pink gash opening in his frightened orange face. I tried to comfort him, but just as I cradled him close to my chin, a crash of lightning split the sky. He jumped from my arms, scurrying beneath the bed. I felt a scratch on my neck prickle with thin blood and sadness swelled inside me. Even the cat suffered my love.
My mind wandered and I couldn't concentrate. When I had been afraid of storms as a child, Father would sit beside me and patiently explain about the force of clouds colliding, the pressure of the air, the moisture rising from and returning to the earth, and the science made sense, or at least I pretended it did, because his voice was comfort enough. Where was Lysette? I suddenly wondered. What was she doing now? Lying bereft in her marriage bed, most likely. I tried not to think of her, shivering beneath the blanket, hiding her silvery tears from the gaze of her indifferent husband. Where was Jonnie? Buried on a lonely hill somewhere, quiet and deep beneath the ground.
The night was too dark, too lonely, too loud, and all the warm cocoa in the world would not send me to sleep. There was only one escape from this sort of despair. I lit my spiced candle, took my black-covered book from its box beneath the bed, filled my pen with ink and sat down to a session of automatic writing.
I began with a series of deep breathing exercises to clear my head and block out the roar of the storm. I had neglected to draw the curtain and suddenly a crack of lightning illuminated my reflection in the window. The image frightened me. My face was like a skull, so dark and hollow, and my body was ghostly as well, draped in a simple white nightdress with my hair tucked up under a cap. But that wasn't me; that didn't need to be me. I, yes I, could be free. I relaxed and let my spirit soar, filling the empty vessel of my body with the thrill of other lives and other worlds.
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