Shared Skies (5 page)

But those children had reminded her of
herself; sunny, energetic, full of curiosity and fun. That had been
a different world. The thought made her sad. Gaiah gnawed at her
nails. She pulled at the torn skin down the sides of her thumbnail.
She stared vacantly out the window. She had never really understood
what happened or why. She'd begun to feel everything about her was
just ‘too much’. Too cheerful, too clever, too happy, too
enthusiastic. Why had things changed? She knew her 'suggesting'
ability had something to do with it. Even sitting here on the
train, she squirmed with embarrassment at the memory of trying to
suggest at some girls that they wanted to be her friends. But the
resulting uncomfortable and bewildered conversations made her vow
never to try anything like that again.

So she changed, fought
against her nature, which made her surly and unhappy; she hunched
her shoulders to hide her height as she grew taller than her
classmates, and she folded her arms and wore baggy jumpers to hide
her shape when at twelve, she seemed to turn into a woman,
overnight. Then the hair started.
Damn! I
do not want to think about it.
She turned
her attention to the landscape, trying to see through the dark, but
the windows only reflected her tired face and her waist length mane
of hair. Gaiah sighed and leant her head against the cold glass and
started to doze.

***

An hour later, on the road above the
embankment next to the train track, John Baird, ‘Yogi’ to his
friends, a 30-year-old lorry driver was doing his last fruit and
veg delivery of the day. He was headed to Dalkeith, only a few
miles further on. He sang loudly, belting out the lyrics to his
favorite song, drowning out the voice of Peter Cunnah. “THINGS CAN
ONLY GET BET...” he never finished.

His face became puce and veins stood out
down his neck, as he struggled to control his hands. His grip on
the steering wheel became vice-like and while he screamed in
disbelief, the van swerved off the road and careered down into the
path of the train. The crash was sudden and violent. The train hit
the van head on and pushed it half a mile down the track, before
its locked brakes finally screeched the train to a stop. The
wreckage of the van was spread along and around the tracks.

Gaiah’s head cracked hard against the
window. It took several shocked seconds to sort out the ringing in
her ears from the screaming of the passengers. She couldn't tell
what was inside or outside her head. Then two important things
became clear. She wasn't hurt and there was no smell of fire. The
lights in the carriage flickered but remained on.

The children were crying. Gaiah pushed
herself out of her seat and hurried across. “Are you okay?”

They both had their arms wrapped around
their mother. Their father had already released the security bar on
the emergency door, and was pushing it outwards. Mrs. McCrea
included Gaiah in her shepherding,

“
Get your case, there’s a
good girl. Come on now. Everyone move, out the door to Daddy. Bring
everything, well done. No fuss, we’re all safe. Let’s go. Stay
together.”

Outside, Gaiah shivered in the chilly dark.
The light from the train made square shapes on the rough ground and
Gaiah watched shocked passengers flit in and out of view as they
emptied out from the other carriages. The embankment was not steep
and most of the passengers were starting to climb up to the road,
pulping fruit and vegetables from the burst crates underfoot.
Traffic had stopped and headlights at various angles fractured the
dark adding to the sense of unreality. Dozens of people were
already on their mobile phones calling emergency services.

Gaiah carried the children's bags and
followed the family as they clambered up the slippy incline. Among
the stopped traffic, was an empty bus on its way back to the depot
in Musselburgh. The driver opened his doors and shouted. “Come on,
love, sit in here in the heat.”

Mrs. McCrea quickly ushered her brood, which
now included Gaiah, onboard. Gaiah paused as she climbed in and she
looked back over her shoulder into the night. Trees and bushes
thrown into relief looked like alien creatures swarming in the
black countryside. She was very glad to step into the welcoming
warmth and light. The driver turned the heat up full and soon
condensation ran down the windows blocking out the night and the
packed bus became a bright cocoon on the dark road.

From her capacious bag Mrs. McCrea produced
a flask of tea and some soggy sandwiches. Gaiah didn't even think
of saying no. She bit into the squishy tomatoes mushed into
wholemeal bread; they were perfect. The over-sweet tea spread
comforting warmth throughout her body. They ate in silence but the
food helped to make her feel a bit better.

The driver walked up and down the bus
passing on the information as he got it. “The truck driver’s dead,”
was his first announcement. Gaiah clamped her hands over her mouth
and the children began to cry. Mrs. McCrea looked daggers at him.
“There’s no need to be saying things like that in front of the
children!”

“
Sorry Missus, but them’s
the facts.”

In the next hour he came back with more. The
train driver was badly injured, the police and firemen were working
on clearing the wreckage and getting the traffic moving. The police
were also interviewing the hundred or so passengers to ascertain
what they had seen or heard, and whether they needed hospital
attention or wanted to continue their journey home.

The police eventually made
their way to the bus. They had been looking out for Gaiah. The
reason for the train's delay had been broadcast at Edinburgh
station and her grandparents had already been in contact with them.
She was handed a slip of paper with the name of the hotel where her
grandparents would be waiting and the bus was cleared to go. Gaiah
stared at the names on the page, numb.
How
could they possibly have anything to do with me?

The driver offered to take the survivors to
Musselburgh where they could all get taxis to their respective
destinations. Everyone gratefully accepted his offer. Soon the bus
lumbered off into the night.

Too much had happened
today. Gaiah wished it were over.
I can’t
believe someone has just died. It’s sickening. Somewhere, some poor
family is about to have their lives
ruined. This is all too crazy–first Bryant and now this
crash.
The little tendrils of fear began
to reappear, chilling her skin and making her palms sweaty.
Is it me? Am I making everything happen? Oh God,
I should never have left London.
She began
to shiver.

Mrs. McCrea was next to her in an instant,
covering her with her fleece-lined coat. “Here, take this dear, I
have a big cardie as well. Accidents happen all the time love, you
know. And really, we’ve been lucky, it could have been so much
worse.”

Gaiah nodded. Mrs. McCrea was right. She
tucked the coat around her shoulders, decided she’d been panicking
about nothing, closed her eyes and allowed sleep to claim her.

She didn't stir till Mrs. McCrea was shaking
her. “Come on, love, we've got a taxi for you, he’ll take you
straight to your grandparents.” She bustled Gaiah and her bag out
of the bus and into the waiting taxi. The children kissed her,
their father shook her hand and Mrs. McCrea hugged Gaiah as if she
were her own daughter heading off for parts unknown.

Gaiah felt a tug saying goodbye to this
lovely family. For a moment she longed to be part of it, wished she
were heading off with them, rather than to the weirdness that was
her life. She waved until the street corner shut them out of sight.
The taxi driver was a talkative, middle-aged man who wanted to know
everything about the accident. After all, he said, he’d a bona fide
survivor in his cab and that was going to be worth a drink or two
at the bar later. Gaiah, nervous about her impending meeting with
her grandparents, welcomed his conversation as a distraction. When
there were no more details left to prise from her about the crash
and the fatality, he turned his attention to telling her all he
thought she should know about Scotland, from the best place for
salmon fishing to where to buy kilts.

It was a short journey, only about twenty
minutes at this time of night, as they approached the roundabout at
Broughton Street his voice began to falter and slur and he stopped
mid-sentence. “Now for real Scottish music you…have…to…”

“
What?” prompted Gaiah,
but there was no answer. She looked at his eyes in the mirror, they
seemed unfocused. The blare of a horn drew her attention to the
road. They were passing a Gothic building complete with turrets and
gargoyles, but what really scared her was, they were driving
directly into the oncoming traffic.

She could see the oncoming headlights
swerving around them. Gaiah screamed, “STOP! STOP!” But it was as
if she were alone in the car. She didn't even try to have eye
contact with him; she didn't pause to plan her words, they just
rang in her head. 'I must stop the car now!’ She silently fired the
words at his head. He jumped like someone tasered and slammed the
brakes on.

“
What the...dear Jesus,
how did we get here…what happened?”

A police car pulled up
alongside them and an officer ordered the shaken man out of the
car. His face, in the beams of passing cars, was ashen and his
mouth was slack. Once it became obvious he was neither drunk nor
drugged the police became concerned for his health and called for
an ambulance to take him to hospital. Then they ushered a very
shaken Gaiah into their car, put a blanket around her and drove her
the short distance to the hotel. Gaiah stared out the
window.
This can’t be coincidence, it just
can’t be. What in God’s name is happening?

A discreet entrance to the
hotel was set in a line of fresh modern shops, but all housed in
the beautiful architecture of eighteenth century buildings. The
police escorted Gaiah up the stairs. The roller coaster of a day
had numbed her.
Oh my God, this is it. The
big moment, the Reveal, the answer to one of the biggest questions
of my life is only a few steps away, and all I want to do is pull a
blanket over my head and sleep.
However,
as the door sighed open into the warm, hushed foyer, her clenched
teeth and white knuckled fists betrayed a deeper level of
anxiety.

A couple, sitting on a deep leather sofa
opposite the reception desk, turned as she came in and sprang to
their feet. They were exactly as she remembered, tall and slim,
tanned and smiling and even though her grandmother’s hair was tied
up in a tight bun, Gaiah could tell at a glance, she had the same
troublesome mane of curls as her own.

“
Gaiah!” Alasdair was the
first to reach her and despite all her firm intentions to reject
them, to hurt them or to shame them into abject apology, all she
felt was a huge sense of belonging as he wrapped her in his arms,
and kissed her forehead. Blue eyes of an intensity to match her own
looked at her with love and pride.

“
I can’t bear to let you
go, but I’d better go and see these guys out. I’ll leave you to
your Gran for a moment.” He strode out the door with the police
officers.

Kaley approached slowly, shaking her head.
“I can’t believe it, you’re so like her and yet, I can see your
father too. Oh Gaiah my sweet; it seemed so long and it’s been so
hard to stay away. It broke our hearts. We have so much to talk
about.” She cupped Gaiah’s face in her hands and stared at her.

Gaiah felt something break open inside her,
and she gasped as if she’d been holding her breath for ten years
and now she could breathe again.

“
Oh Gran,”
she wailed and threw herself into the waiting
arms. She sobbed and cried as she hadn’t done for years. Kaley held
her and caressed her hair. Somehow a wad of tissues found its way
into her hand. Gaiah felt Alasdair come back and put his arms
around the two of them. Slowly, she hiccupped to a halt; there were
no more tears, just a sense of peace.

The three of them were using tissues now,
unashamedly blowing noses and wiping away tears of happiness. She
felt healed and whole, being back with them. There was so much
talking to be done, so many questions to be asked and answered but
no more crying. The receptionist, who had watched this emotional
reunion, smiled and offered more tissues, as she handed out the key
card to Gaiah’s room

“
Darling Gaiah, I can’t
believe you’re really here,” said Kaley as she pressed the button
for the lift. The three of them held hands in silence as the lift
purred them up to the third floor and, in the dimmed light of the
elegant corridor, her grandmother handed Gaiah a room card.“You’re
safe, you’re back with us and you’re also completely exhausted, no
talking tonight–just sleep. We’re right here in the room next to
you.”

Gaiah nodded, her grandmother was right.
Although her brain was a holding pattern of indignant questions she
couldn’t muster the energy to utter them. She hugged them both and
gratefully closed the door behind her as she stepped into her room.
She barely looked around it, noticed only that it was peach. Peach
coloured, warm, and comfortable.

She sank back on the
wonderfully yielding bed.
What an
exhausting, awful, bizarre day. And my grandparents, I can’t
believe it. But there’s no question, they feel so familiar, they
really, truly are my grandparents. Where in God’s name have they
been until now? It’s extraordinary.
She
briefly considered ringing her father to let him know she was okay,
but knew she was just too wiped to deal with it. There was so much
to think about. She was looking forward to a long, hot shower but
her head slowly sank back into the pillow, the mobile slid out of
her hand, and the warmth of the room engulfed her.