‘Sorry, m’lady. Please forgive me.’ Cormac bows and kisses Sheila’s hand. She laughs and heads into the kitchen.
‘I’ll buy the tickets and send you the link,’ says Mum.
‘Cheers, Aunty Aoife. Looking forward to it,’ says Cormac.
‘Yeah me too. I…’ I close my eyes as a headache washes over me.
When I open them, I see the light. It’s flowing in through the living-room window and if I didn’t know better I’d think it was an especially flamboyant summer sunrise. But the sun rose three hours ago. I shiver, spilling tea on my fingers.
‘You OK?’ Mum asks.
‘Yeah, sorry. I need the loo.’ I set down the cup and walk as quickly as I can without running.
‘Wash your hands!’ calls Fiona.
I bolt up the stairs. My head is pounding so I still have time. I head into Cormac’s room and grab the pinhole camera from my bag, mentally double-checking that I put in a new sheet of photographic paper.
I take a deep breath and look out the window.
The street is completely different. The cars are old and the big tree across the road is missing, a rose bush in its place. It’sthe strongest vision I’ve seen yet. I push open Cormac’s window and lean out. The air is thick and muggy. There’s a sound too; a kind of pulsing, like a heartbeat. The familiar smell of earth and blood seeps into Cormac’s room.
I search for Dad.
Then I see her.
A little girl, five or six years old, is sitting on the kerb opposite the house. Her blonde hair is tied in a ponytail and she’s wearing a white T-shirt under flared yellow dungarees like I’ve seen Mum wear in old photos. I think it must be from the seventies or eighties. Her arms are wrapped around her knees and she’s watching the house next door.
What’s going to happen to her?
I look away for a moment, not wanting to see something bad happen to this child. The pulsing sound gets louder. There’s something within it, a soft roar.
I turn back and the girl is standing against the wall, watching the road now.
An armoured jeep roars into view, juddering to a halt outside the next-door neighbours’. Soldiers pile out and run into the house. I look back at the girl and gape at her fury; her brows are knotted, teeth bared. Her hands are balled in fists as she glares at the soldiers running into the neighbour’s garden.
The light starts to fade.
Shit.
I ignore the threat of vertigo and lean out further, but can’t get a good shot of what’s happening next door, so I aim it at the girl. I open the pinhole latch as the light dims and the pulsing sound recedes. The girl stands, unblinking. Glaring with hatred at the soldiers and the jeep. Something shimmers beside her, just for a moment. It’s the same trick of light I saw in the graveyard. The end of the vision maybe? I close the latch.
A few seconds later, everything returns to normal. The tree is back where it should be and our car is parked outside.
My stomach hurts from leaning on the windowsill. I ease myself back inside and close the window.
‘What’re you doing?’
Cormac is standing with his arms crossed.
Fuck.
I hide the camera behind my back as heat blazes my neck. ‘What? Nothing.’
He pokes his tongue into his cheek. ‘You said you needed the toilet. Did you just piss out the window?’
‘What? No!’ I take out the camera. ‘I was taking a photo.’
‘Right… So you were hanging out the window and taking a photo?’
