Lyrebird

  Solomon notices how Laura flinches at that, as if equally uncomfortable with the truth as Joe is.

  ‘They are, were, fascinating people and their story spread all over the world. Aired in twenty countries, I have it here. This is an iPad; if you do this …’ She swipes carefully, looking at Laura then back to the iPad to see if she understands.

  Laura mimics the iPad clicking sounds.

  ‘Then you press this to watch it.’ Bo touches the screen and the film starts playing.

  She allows Laura to watch it for a moment.

  ‘I’d love to make a documentary about you. We’d love to film you here at the cottage, get a sense of who you are and how you live your life.’

  Laura looks at Solomon. He’s about to clear his throat but stops himself. Laura does it instead, sounding like him. Bo still doesn’t notice.

  ‘There is a fee, but it’s small. I have the terms here.’

  Bo takes a page from her folder and hands it to her.

  Laura looks at the page blankly.

  ‘I’ll leave this with you, for you to decide.’

  Bo looks at the piece of paper, wondering if she should explain it any further, or if doing so would seem patronising. With Solomon standing behind her shoulder, judging her, maybe not deliberately but she feels the judgement, this cold air that comes from him when she does or says something. She does appreciate that he has a better way with negotiating certain situations but she also wants the freedom to be able to act as she deems appropriate, without fearing or dreading the feedback, the sensing the disapproval and disappointment. Of always letting him down. Of having to check herself. She doesn’t want any more cold air between them, but mostly she doesn’t like to have to second-guess herself at a job that she knows she’s more than capable of doing. In ways, it was easier when their relationship was platonic. She cared more about what he thought, rather than what he thinks of her.

  She’s sitting on the edge of her chair, too much in Laura’s space. She pushes herself back and tries to appear relaxed, waits for a positive answer.

  Laura is watching the first few minutes of video of her father and uncle on the iPad.

  ‘I don’t think that I’d like people to know about me,’ Laura says and Solomon is surprised by his relief.

  He would never consider their documentaries exploitive, but he’s proud of Laura for sticking to what feels right to her, not being swayed by attention and fame as so many people are. Rarely does Bo have to convince anybody to say anything on camera, she dangles a camera in front of them and they jump to attention, ready for their five minutes of fame. He likes that Laura is different. She’s normal. She’s a normal person who appreciates her anonymity, who values privacy. That, and something else.

  ‘You don’t have to share anything with us that you don’t want,’ Bo says. ‘Joe and Tom allowed us to follow them and see how they lived and communicated with each other but I don’t think they felt we crossed any boundaries. We had a very well understood agreement, that as soon as they felt uncomfortable, we’d stop filming.’

  Like this morning, in Joe’s kitchen. It made Bo feel unwell, as though she’d had a falling out with a friend.

  Laura looks relieved. ‘I like to be by myself. I don’t want –’ she looks at the iPad, and newspaper articles and magazine reviews on the table, ‘I don’t want all of that.’

  She pulls the sleeves of her cardigan over her wrists and scrunches them between her fingers, and hugs herself, as if she’s cold.

  ‘Understood,’ Solomon says and looks at Bo, an air of finality to it. ‘We respect your decision. But before we go, we brought you some things.’

  Solomon carries the shopping bags over to her and places them on the floor beside her. He’d probably gone overboard but he didn’t want her to be left with nothing, especially if Bridget sides with Joe and doesn’t continue to provide for Laura. He’d run across to the local tourist shop, bought as many blankets, T-shirts, jumpers as he could. He couldn’t imagine how cold it got in here, wind whistling through the holes in the walls, the old windows, while bats are flying metres from her door.

  Bo hadn’t commented on his purchases. She’d stayed in the car checking emails, while he’d filled the boot with shopping bags. It’s only now that Bo looks at the amount he places down, takes them in, and looks at him in surprise. He’s embarrassed but she’s impressed by his effort. In Bo’s opinion, it could go a long way to convincing Laura to work with them.

  ‘I thought it could get very cold up here,’ Solomon explains, awkwardly, faffing his hands over the tops of the bags and muttering about their contents.

  Bo smiles, trying to hold in her laugh at her boyfriend’s discomfort.

  ‘Thank you so much for all of these things,’ Laura says, peering in the bags, then addressing Solomon. ‘It’s far too much. I don’t think I could eat all of this on my own.’

  ‘Well, there’s three people here who’d love to help you,’ Bo jokes casually, still pushing, always pushing.

  ‘I’ll have to give them all back to you,’ she says to Solomon and then to Bo. ‘I can’t do your documentary.’

  ‘They’re for you,’ Solomon says firmly, ‘whether you do it or not.’

  ‘Yes, yes, keep them,’ Bo says, distracted.

  While Solomon is getting ready to leave, doing the thing where he doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to be seen as being rude, in the way, Bo prepares. That part of it never bothers Bo, it’s a momentary awkwardness in an overall larger picture. Bo feels it in her gut that she can’t let Laura go. She’s a fascinating, beautiful, interesting, ferociously intriguing girl, none of which she has seen the likes of before. Not only has she a personal life that is ripe for storytelling but a unique characteristic which is visually splendid. The girl is perfect. While Solomon says his goodbye to Laura, Bo lags behind, taking her time tidying her paperwork up. Placing the newspaper photocopies in a neat pile, running through her head what she can say next.

  ‘You go ahead, Sol, I’ll be out in a minute,’ Bo says, placing her folder in her bag, slowly.

  Solomon leaves, and closes the door behind him.

  Dark disapproving boyfriend gone.

  Bo looks up at Laura and the girl looks so forlorn, as though she’s about to start crying.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Bo asks, surprised.

  ‘Nothing, I … nothing,’ she says, a little breathlessly. She stands up and moves across the room, to her kitchenette. She pours herself a cup of water and drinks it down in one.

  She’s a peculiar girl. Bo wants to know everything about her. She wants to see the world from her eyes, walk in her shoes, she needs Laura to say yes. She cannot lose her. Bo knows that she is passionate about her work, that it borders on obsessed, but that’s what it takes for her to fully understand her subject. She has to absorb herself in his or her life, she wants to do that. Bo was searching for something new after The Toolin Twins, and here it is, the natural birth of a new story has quite literally emerged from the first story. It’s perfect, it’s right, it has potential to be even better than The Toolin Twins. It’s Bo’s job to make other people see what she sees, to feel what she feels. She must make Laura see that.

  ‘Laura,’ she says gently. ‘I respect your decision not to take part, but I want to make sure you are seeing the whole picture. I want to help you think this through. This week has obviously been a big week for you, a time of huge change in your life, with the passing of your dad.’

  Laura looks down, her long eyelashes brush her cheekbones. Bo notes the reaction when she refers to Tom as her dad, to Joe as her uncle, she needs to be careful when using it. They’re not terms Laura is comfortable with and she wants to know why. Why, why, why! It seems that this girl is built entirely on secrets; created on one, born on one, reared on one, exists on one. Bo wants to break the chain.

  ‘It’s a new beginning for you. Your life is moving on. There is uncertainty as to whether Joe will allow you to live here, and if he does, uncert
ainty as to whether he will assist you in living the life you have been living for the past ten years. I don’t know if Joe will take on Tom’s role of acting as an intermediary with Bridget for you, getting your provisions, and paying for them, because I assume Tom covered the costs?’

  She nods.

  ‘If Joe doesn’t, how will you get to the shops with no car? Do you have money? Can you pay for food? Tom, as helpful as he was to you, really did leave you in a very vulnerable situation.’ She leads into the next sentence gently. ‘There isn’t a mention of you in Tom’s will. He has left his share to Joe. Perhaps he intended on discussing your presence here with Joe, but he never did.’

  She leaves that to sink in with Laura, who has now reached out to grip the back of the chair tightly. Her eyes dart around the room, deep in thought, everything that has been her world possibly dissolving right in front of her.

  ‘If you take part in this documentary, we can help you. The three of us will be here, we can bring you whatever you need. We can even help you get set up somewhere else if that’s what you want. Whatever you want, we can help you. You’re not alone. You’ll have me, Rachel and of course … you’ll have Solomon, who I can tell is so fond of you,’ Bo adds, with a smile.

  7

  ‘She’s in!’ Bo sings, from the trail, making her way to where Solomon and Rachel are waiting by the car.

  ‘What?’ Rachel says, looking at Solomon. ‘He just said she’s out.’

  ‘Well it’s happening now!’ Bo raises her hand in the air for a high-five. They both stare at her.

  ‘Ah, come on, don’t leave me hanging.’

  Rachel high-fives her, with a surprised laugh. ‘You are unbelievable. You truly are a piece of work.’

  Bo raises her eyebrows, enjoying the praise, hand still in the air and waiting for Solomon.

  He folds his arms. ‘I’m not high-fiving anything until you tell me how you changed her mind.’

  Bo drops her hand and rolls her eyes. ‘Would you ask another producer that question? Or just me? Because I would like to have the same respect from you as you would give to somebody else, don’t you think that’s fair?’

  ‘If I was in the room with a producer who got a clear no, and then I left, and he got a yes, then yes, I would ask him.’

  ‘Why is the producer immediately a him?’ Bo asks.

  ‘Or her. Who gives a fuck? What did you do to make her say yes?’

  ‘Okay guys, before you both go off on one, can we first get some of the logistics straight,’ Rachel grabs their attention. ‘I really have to get home to Susie – we have an anatomy scan on Friday, I will not miss it,’ she says, fully serious. ‘I need to know what’s happening. Is there a plan?’

  Bo looks at both of them, her eyes wide in shock. ‘Guys,’ she says, exasperated. ‘Can we quit the moaning for a second and embrace, truly acknowledge the fact that we have the subject of a new documentary, confirmed. Can we not ruin the moment right now with a thousand questions, and celebrate?’ She looks at both of them. ‘We’re ready to go again. Whoo! Come on!’ she tries to jazz them up until they eventually cave in and celebrate with her, in a group hug, Rachel and Solomon momentarily hiding their reservations.

  ‘Congratulations you relentless little shit,’ Solomon says, kissing her.

  She laughs. ‘Thank you! Finally, the recognition I deserve.’

  ‘So …’ Rachel says.

  ‘I know, I know, Susie,’ Bo says thinking it through. ‘Of course you need to get back to her. My feeling is that all the signs are pointing to filming now,’ Bo says. ‘The weather, for a start. We’ve been here in winter, it’s murky, it’s complicated. Rachel, you slipped on your ass more times than I care to remember and, while it was hilariously funny, it was dangerous – as you pointed out.’

  Solomon chuckles.

  ‘And while I want to film what it’s like for Laura living here in all seasons, because I think that’s important, I want to get the principal stuff done now. I want to show people how we found her. Sleeping Beauty in her hidden cottage in the forest. I want the colour, I want light, I want these sounds,’ she says, seeing it all. ‘It’s a summer vibe. Thirdly, if we leave it too long, there’s a chance Laura will change her mind. I want her immediate thoughts, wishes, dreams, not something she’s figured out a few months down the road. Her life has changed now – bam! We need to follow her now, when she’s right on the cusp. And finally, I don’t know how long Joe is going to allow her to live here. If we leave he may just kick her out of the cottage, if we’re here he might be more likely to allow her to stay.

  ‘So, bearing that all in mind, we go home today, gather ourselves, I’ll prepare the paperwork, Rachel you gather the equipment, and we’ll return Sunday evening. We begin filming here on Monday for a two-week shoot, tops.’

  They all agree.

  ‘Rachel I know that Susie’s due date is three weeks away, if for whatever reason you have to leave …’ Bo says, starting to think of replacement camera people she’s worked with. ‘I could call Andy and see if—’

  ‘Andy’s a dickhead, his filming is deeply inferior to mine. Don’t replace me with Andy. It would be an insult. Don’t replace me with anyone,’ Rachel says firmly. ‘This is a story,’ Rachel says, pointing up the mountain to the cottage. ‘I want to work on this.’

  At Rachel’s show of support, Solomon feels goosebumps rise on his skin. He’s never heard her so enthusiastic, nor has he felt this way about a project before. They are all eager to begin, hankering to dive into discovering Laura’s story. Buzzing with excitement Bo returns to the cottage to discuss the filming schedule with Laura, however, she emerges moments later with less energy.

  ‘She’s changed her mind,’ Solomon guesses, feeling his stomach drop.

  ‘Not quite. She’s panicking. She’s doing the noise thing. She wants you, Sol. Again.’

  Solomon closes the door to the cottage. Laura is standing, pacing the small area between her bed, the kitchenette and the living area.

  ‘Hi,’ he says.

  She mimics a sound and he doesn’t know what it is until he closes the door and it is exactly the sound she has just made. The latch closing. Her sounds may be things she desires to happen, Solomon adds this observation to his list of studies.

  ‘I thought it would be starting tomorrow,’ she says, nervously twisting her fingers.

  ‘The documentary?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. It can’t happen instantly. We have to go home, and prepare for the shoot but there’s no need to worry, we’ll be back on Monday for two weeks.’

  ‘When are you leaving?’ she asks, pacing the room.

  ‘Today,’ he says. ‘Laura what’s wrong?’

  ‘If you go, I’ll be here alone.’

  She starts to make noises, agitated. Bird sounds, distressed.

  ‘It’s only five days. You’re always here alone.’

  ‘Joe doesn’t want me here.’

  ‘We don’t know that Joe doesn’t want you here,’ Solomon says. ‘He’s in shock, it will take him a bit of time.’

  ‘But what if he comes over here, when you’re gone, and wants me to leave. What if the garda comes back? What will I do? Where will I go? I don’t know anyone. I don’t have anyone.’

  ‘You can call me, if that happens. Here,’ he roots around in his pockets for a pen and paper. ‘I’ll give you my number.’

  ‘How will I call you? I don’t have a phone.’

  He stalls, the pen hovering over the page.

  ‘Please stay. I’d like to film tomorrow,’ she says, swallowing nervously. ‘If this is going to happen, it has to happen tomorrow,’ she says, trying to toughen up.

  ‘We can’t film tomorrow, Laura,’ he says gently. ‘Look, it’s okay. Please calm down. I have to get to my mam’s this weekend. She’s seventy. She lives in Galway, I can’t miss it. Rachel, the one with the camera, her wife is pregnant, she has to get home to her, and Bo, she’s the director, producer
, she’s got a lot of work to do for next week, planning, paperwork, a lecture, that kind of thing. We need more equipment, there’s paperwork to be done, permission to be granted, there’s no way we could start tomorrow.’

  ‘Can I go with you?’ she asks.

  He stares at her in shock, unable to think of how to reply. ‘You want to …’

  ‘Can I stay with you? I can’t stay here any more. It’s all been changed. I have to … change with the changes.’

  She’s panicking, her mind working overtime.

  ‘Relax, Laura, it’s okay, everything’s okay, nothing’s changed.’ He goes to her, holds her by her arms, gently, tries to get her to look at him. His heart is pounding; just feeling her is sending him into a spin. She looks at him and those grassy eyes probe into him, into his very soul.

  ‘My dad’s dead,’ she looks at him, eyes piercing. ‘My dad is dead. And I never even called him dad. I never even knew if he knew that I was his daughter. We never even …’ The tears spill down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, come here,’ he whispers, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to him so that her head is against his chest and she is completely enveloped in his love and care.

  ‘How can a place be a home if no one wants you there?’ she asks through her tears. ‘This is not a home.’

  He can’t answer that.

  He’s the only person she knows. He can’t leave her here.

  ‘What. The. Fuck,’ Bo says, sitting up, as Solomon walks towards her and Rachel with bags in his hands, closely followed by Laura.

  ‘She’s coming with us,’ he says, avoiding Bo’s stare, as he puts the bags in the boot of the car.

  ‘What?’ Bo joins him.

  ‘She’s scared here. She doesn’t want to wait on her own until we get back. I wonder who scared the shit out of her, Bo,’ he says through his teeth at her, the veins pulsating in his neck. He’s really angry.