Goodbye Butterfly Chapter 1.1

1

I’m falling.

The ground is getting no closer yet I feel the wind rush past my ears like the roar of madness.

Lights and shapes zoom past me as fireflies, not there long enough to reveal their full form. Chocolate box cottages, rivers and woodlands all flashing by in a dizzying blur.

I’m reaching out into the blackness with nothing to clasp.

Will I be falling forever?

I feel like Alice in her rabbit hole though I fear there will be no smiling pussycat waiting for me at the bottom.

 

***

The rain pattered soft and steadily from behind the curtains, soothing the seed of dread pitted in my stomach. I allowed my mind the chance to catch up with my body before forcing my eyes to engage with the world. I gazed around my freshly tidied bedroom and wiggled my toes under the clean, crisp sheets. There was something about newly washed sheets that made it impossible for me to get out of bed in the mornings.

Unfortunately, that morning I had to. There was a job to attend and a life to live.

I would have to face the icy cold floor with my bare feet… but not for another ten minutes.

My bleary eyes assessed their surroundings, losing the battle of remaining open. The mocha walls bled into the cream drawers and the various inspirational quotes etched into pieces of aluminium that hung around the place. I blinked often and then became too aware of the blinking, so stopped.

My eyes slammed shut like a prison cell door and didn’t snap open again until the alarm struck.

I forced myself out of bed with a sigh and a heavy heart. I was sure i’d missed out on a fantastic dream but it would have to wait, in that moment I had to nudge myself into the cold, real world of my bedroom and out of dreamland. I headed to the shower, mulling over my potential clothing choices as I went and resigning myself to the realisation that knitwear would be the only option for the foreseeable future.

The bathroom was filled with misty vapour a second after the cascade began, whether due to the extreme cold or simply the superb heating system I was so fond of, I couldn’t say, but my goosebumps had subsided long before I entered the water. The only problem would be getting out of it again, I turned the temperature up higher, a risky strategy with a fairly low success rate, but my idea was that I would overheat and then be glad of the cool air as I left the bathroom. In reality all I achieved was a hammering in my chest and black spots in front of my eyes as I grappled with the wardrobe for the first woolen garment I could find.     

The morning unfolded without calamity, I received a warm reception from Bluebell, the black cat I had acquired some years before. Although not normally a cat person, i’d seen her wandering, looking half starved, by the side of the road with a deep gash across her nose. Barely more than a kitten i’d felt obligated to have her seen by a vet. At some point between wrapping her in my cardigan and hearing that her owners were untraceable, i’d decided to keep her. With a significantly lighter bank account, that was that.  

I left for work suspiciously five minutes earlier than I had intended to. The smoothness of my morning routine made me anxious that I had missed out something vital. I ran through all possible oversights in my head as I took the first steps into the semi light. The door was locked, my hair straighteners unplugged, the cat was fed and I was definitely wearing underwear… I couldn’t think of anything.

My shoes squeaked against the damp leaves underfoot, autumn was making its unmistakable transition into winter and I wrapped my black, wool coat around tighter in defence from the harsh wind. It was only a fifteen minute walk but that morning it felt like an arctic mission. The smell of ice was in the air and smattered pinpricks of numbing pain danced across my cheeks. Each movement under siege from multitude of glacial hands urging me back into the comforting embrace of my toasty bed clothes. My mind concurred, betraying me to the last, nothing but stubbornness spurring me on.

It was with incredible relief that I eventually I arrived at the familiar green door, almost surprised the ordeal was at an end. It stood out against the grey morning like a healthy shoot defying the odds in dead soil. I reached out to knock my presence, my hands bright red and seized almost paralysed with cold. Gloves… That’s what you forgot. Luckily I didn’t have long to wait before the door creaked open and bathed me in the warm, waterfall of light that tumbled from the house in a dazzling shimmer. I fought the urge to sprint inside and instead, settled for a polite step over the threshold.

I hadn't really planned on doing the job more than a year. It began as something of a stopgap, once i'd formed a game plan I assumed I'd be jet setting and living a glamorous, exciting lifestyle. I'd begun it five years earlier and couldn't honestly imagine doing anything else. I'd worked my fair share of customer service and the idea of going back to doing anything equally soulless and completely devoid of meaning terrified me. I suppose some people could have accused me of being stuck in a rut, afraid of trying something new, but the truth was, I was happy. I felt like I was making a difference, and while it may have only been to one person, it was better than not making a difference at all.

I first met Tegan when she was ten months old. I will probably never understand how I got the job, there must have been plenty of people better equipped for it. The only qualifications I really held were a compulsory module in child development and a family history of blindness. I'd previously trained in tutoring and perhaps Tom had planned ahead, as he always did, to a time of potential upheaval for his daughter. He'd discovered several months earlier that Tegan was born almost blind and as such would need different care. After a few operations, the doctors assured him her eyesight would eventually develop, though how well they couldn’t say. I admit, I felt slightly intimidated by this prospect but Tom was confident and his quiet, calming demeanour made me confident in turn and so we continued with minimal hiccup. I threw myself into as many specialist educational courses as I could find and once Tegan had begun to talk, things slotted into place as if by pre-design.

I hadn't spent much time analysing, or more accurately, I hadn't spent much time digging for information about Tegan's mother. I had however, spent copious hours discussing the finer details and on more dramatic occasions, conspiracy theories, with my oldest and most trusted friend, Scarlet. I knew that her name was Jennifer and that she had disappeared two months after Tegan was born. From what Tom had said, she claimed to be heading out to see a friend and never came home. Tom had called the friend in question who said she had no idea Jennifer was planning to see her that day at all. Fearing the worst, Tom called the police but in the time leading up to my employment, and indeed the years afterwards, they could find no trace of her. They couldn't determine any foul play at all and could only conclude her disappearance was a conscious decision on her part.

Tom, very private and far too logical to engage in much speculation, had said very little on the subject. He had previously told me that their relationship was a very short lived one. From meeting up to the point of disappearance was only sixteen months, something he claimed was incredibly out of character. Normally all of his actions were weighed up and thought out carefully, but in this instance he felt the whole thing was a rush. In fact he seemed to remember very few of the details and had often described the relationship as a blur. One surprising portion still clear in his mind was Jennifer's almost obsessive desire for a baby. He stated this as the potential driving force for the speed of the relationship. Yet somehow, as soon as Tegan was born, Jennifer seemed at best, mildly disinterested.

Tom said he hadn't understood this in the slightest, it had been chalked down the post-natal depression by the doctors and Tom himself at the time, but upon reflection, he said she didn’t seem particularly depressed but simply seemed to lack all maternal instinct. Even before Tegan had arrived, she didn’t enjoy shopping or decorating the nursery, she wanted the baby but seemed to have no desire to care for her once she arrived.

I had only heard the facts as Tom saw them but he wasn't the kind of person to exaggerate or allow emotions to colour his opinion. I could only conclude that this woman seemed incredibly strange. To be so desperate for a baby, only to lose interest as soon as it arrived and then disappear altogether seemed bizarre to me. But what I found even more bizarre was the way she seemed to have dropped off the planet. To Tom's knowledge, she had no living relatives and only a handful of friends, none of whom appeared to have heard from her. She simply slipped away unnoticed like a shadow in the night.

I barely had chance to utter a greeting to Tom before Tegan charged at me like a bull at a gate. I pretended to fall down, always her favourite reaction, and set about starting the day.

In his usual calm and orderly fashion, Tom had time to sit and chat with us before heading off to work. It amazed me, I always seemed in a rush no matter how organised I felt I was but I couldn’t remember a single incident of Tom even threatening lateness. We sat around the farmhouse table that stood in the centre of the kitchen like a scene from a lifestyle magazine. Everything was in its place and everyone smiling. Tegan entertained us with stories about her dreams the previous night, apparently this time she had visited the moon and encountered space sheep.  

    A few minutes later, it was time for Tom to leave. He gave Tegan a kiss and then loitered behind me for a couple of seconds before tentatively laying a hand on my shoulder. He uttered “Be good.” kindly in his daughter’s direction and gave me a soft squeeze before exiting. My heart was pounding in my chest and I was thankful in that moment for no one noticing my flushed expression. I didn’t know where the sudden display of affection had come from but I knew Scarlet would be delighted to hear of it.

    We spent the morning progressing with school work, Tegan was so enthusiastic and loved learning new things, the cynic in me wondered how long it would be before this wore off and parties and boys took precedence. For now at least, it made my job very easy.

    By the afternoon we’d finished all of the work we’d needed to and with the encroaching darkness robbing us of excess energy, we sat and told each other stories. Tegan loved hearing about my life at her age and always asked, “Will you tell me a story about when you were a little girl?” I couldn’t refuse, but by this stage I was repeating myself. Her favourite was the story of when I had been startled by a dog barking and had subsequently fallen into the neighbour’s fish pond, she recalled it better than I did.

    It was after one such story that Tegan began to look troubled. Her angelic face contorted into a frown and her glassy, blue eyes seemed to shield a puzzle she didn’t know the answer to.

    I pressed her for an insight.

    “I’m not supposed to say.” She answered hesitantly.

    “What do you mean? Me and you don’t have secrets.” I soothed.

She struggled with this for a few moments, far more seriously than her years should have allowed.

    “My Mummy’s in heaven.” She eventually released.

 

I was a little taken aback, this was the first time I recalled Tegan even mention her mother and certainly no one would have told her she’d died. As far as I was aware, no one knew where she was.

 

    “Now why would you think that?” I responded in my most compassionate tone.

    “She told me she was.” Came the reply. “Only, if she is in heaven, how was she talk to me?”

 

I sat for several seconds doing my best impression of a goldfish, having no idea what to say, I reached for the hallmark response.

 

    “I don’t know sweetheart, but I’m sure that wherever she is, she loves you very much.”

 

I felt myself cringe as I said it but it seemed enough of an answer for Tegan, at least for the time being.

    

    At 6:03 I had said my goodbyes and was standing in the hallway, ready to leave. While Tegan listened to her favourite Disney soundtrack in the living room, I collared Tom to fill him in on the day’s events.

    “She’s up to date, in fact, over where she needs to be for maths. Science is fine too. She’s got some extra books in the kitchen to read over the weekend if she wants to. To be honest, she’s far enough ahead it’s try and put her off if you can otherwise she’ll be bored next week…”

I thought about the conversation we’d had involving Tom’s wife. I felt awkward bringing it up, I didn’t know how he’d respond or whether it was even something that should be brought up.

    “Tell me.” Tom’s words snapped me out of my dilemma.

    “Huh?”

    “Your lip.” He smirked. “You’re biting it. You always do that when you’re thinking about saying something.”

 

I almost blushed again. That moment was definitely not one in which I wanted to raise the topic of another woman, but it had to be said, and with great reluctance I admitted;

    “It’s nothing really, Tegan just spoke about her mum today. She said she’d told her she was in heaven. I didn’t know if it was worth saying anything, maybe it’s something she picked up at school or in a dream maybe? I don’t know… It just seemed strange. But I didn’t want her saying something and then you thinking… Well I don’t know…” I trailed off and looked at him rather than the floor for the first time since i’d started rambling.

    Tom looked distinctly unconcerned.

 

    “I’m sure she’s just picked it up from somewhere, you know what kids are like. I guess she must be wondering why all the other kids have Mum’s picking them up from school and her’s doesn’t. I’ll see if I can get to the bottom of it.”

 

He smiled. I smiled. Then I turned toward the door and reached for the handle.

 

    “Thank you for telling me though.” He ended with an affectionate pat on the arm and with that, I left.

    It felt much later than 6:03 as I stepped out into that cold, dark street. The enclosing winter made the nights fall so fast, the wind picked up leaved and made them dance around my feet like fairies. I felt overly conscious of my clip-clopping shoes echoing against the silent buildings as I marched into the icy breeze.

    I had two hours before I had to meet Scarlet and in an attempt to distract myself from the cold, I used the journey home to concoct a suitable outfit that would be both warm and stylish. Even with this diversion, Jack Frost haunted me all the way home.