She shrugs. ‘I don’t know. I’ve not been to many funerals.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Such a shame,’ she says, and I frown. ‘I meant in terms of knowledge about coffin flags.’
‘Sure thing,’ I say. ‘Shall we head home?’
Meg wipes some dust from her knees and the sunlight glints on her acorn necklace as she stands up. ‘Can we go for a walk first?’
We reach the far end of the graveyard when the tingling on the back of my neck begins. I turn and see the light behind a small shrub growing against the wall. The familiar pain prickles my skin, but it definitely feels more like excitement this time.
‘I see something.’
Meg whirls round. ‘Where?’
I slip off the backpack and unzip it. ‘Against the wall, behind that bush.’ I point.
‘What?’
I get out the camera and head towards the plant where a small column of light glimmers, like the beam from a torch. ‘Right there.’ I point at the spotlit circle at the bottom of the wall.
‘No!’ Meg’s voice trembles. ‘Don’t look. Let’s go.’ I turn to see her clutching her necklace, her face pale.
‘What’s wrong?’ The light shines brighter in the corner of my eye and I feel myself pulled towards it.
‘I can guess what’s there, and you don’t want to see it.’
‘I have to, Meg.’
The light is shining upward like it’s coming from something on the ground behind the bush. As I walk towards it, the scent of earth, smoke and something sweet fills the air.
‘Michael, please.’
I glance back at Meg then turn to point the camera at the light. I can’t see anything at first. Some uncut grass. Moss on the walls. A black feather on the ground beside a dark bundle of clothes.
The bundle moves. Shock punches me in the chest.
No.
It wriggles and there’s a faint whimper.
Oh, please, no.
A tiny white fist. Too white, almost blue, barely moving.
I drop the camera as adrenaline shoots through my arms. I dash forward and try to pick up the bundle, to scoop up the babyinside it, but my fingers pass through nothing. I slump to the ground.
My breath sounds too loud and ragged. I shiver and wrap my arms around my knees.
A hand rests on my shoulder. Warm, real. I lean into it.
‘Is it…?’ Meg says weakly. ‘You can see a baby, can’t you?’
I nod and she sinks beside me onto the grass.
‘How do you…?’
‘It’s where they left them. What can you see?’
