‘No!’
‘Arms out or I’ll tell these two the most embarrassing stories I know about you.’
‘Now,’ says Paul, his breath warm on my ear, ‘I wouldn’t mind hearing that.’
I shoot my arms out to the side and Cormac shouts, ‘I’m King of the World.’ Despite my knowledge that Leo doesn’t actually say that line at that point of one of my secret favourite films, I laugh and the photographer takes a pic.
The flash blinds me and the light stays in my eyes as we step off the bow.
I stagger and Meg appears by my side. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s the…flash.’ I try to blink it away.
‘Are you having a vision?’ she whispers.
A shape is forming in the light and my stomach is rolling. ‘No, a memory. Like before. I need some air.’
Meg puts her arm in mine and leads me away. Paul and Cormac ask if I’m OK and she tells them to get our bags from the cloakroom and meet us outside.
We move through the crowds, the light still flashing behind my eyes.
The cool air from outside hits me and I stumble again but Meg grabs my arms. ‘Deep breaths. Close your eyes. Just like before. OK?’
I take a breath and shut them.
Her hands are warm and strong on my wrists. ‘Tell me what you see.’
I close my eyes and the bird appears in my mind. ‘OK, so the seagull…the herring gull is in the air and it’s frozen.’
‘What?’ says Meg.
‘Its wings are arched behind it. Like an angel, kind of, but it’s not moving.’
I hear the click in my head. ‘It’s a photo! I took a photo of it from the ferry.’
Meg grips tighter. ‘What else?’
The image of the bird flickers. I follow its gaze and see… ‘The black feather.’
It wavers and twists in the air. There are deep purples and greens among the black. I can pick out each barb in detail.
‘It’s getting bigger and bigger. No, wait, it’s coming towards me.’
The feather fills my vision now. The shimmering colours fall away and all I can see is black. Like a pool of ink.
Iron fills my senses, earth, a wetness. Blood.
Stop, stop this.
Everything goes silent. The wind, the chatter of tourists, the gulls. I’m immersed in the blackness like I’m swimming in the sea on a moonless night.
Numbness sweeps over me.
There’s a movement, a flicker of white, up ahead.
I try to turn but I can’t move.
It’s getting closer and closer. The white dot starts to take shape, into an oval.
