One in Four are Birds Read online

  First published in Great Britain in 2019 by

  The Book Guild Ltd

  9 Priory Business Park

  Wistow Road, Kibworth

  Leicestershire, LE8 0RX

  Freephone: 0800 999 2982

  www.bookguild.co.uk

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @bookguild

  Copyright © 2019 Fiona Cavell

  The right of Fiona Cavell to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This work is entirely fictitious and bears no resemblance to any persons living or dead.

  ISBN 978 1913208 028

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  STATISTICALLY ONE IN FOUR WOMEN ARE

  ABUSED AT SOME POINT IN THEIR LIVES.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter One

  Fiona always felt she was different from the other girls in her village. All they wanted was to settle down with an ordinary boy. Fiona was fiercely independent with no intention of settling for the ordinary, or settling down at all, so it was hard to believe that she would become preyed upon by an intimate terrorist. It was difficult to imagine that she would become trapped by someone who abused, humiliated and belittled her. She did not foresee that he would be able to take away every inch of her confidence and destroy her dignity. The other girls in the village dreamt of having their own hut to live in, like their parents had. Fiona’s dream of living somewhere different unexpectedly turned into a living nightmare, from which she longed to escape, wishing she could go back to live in her parents’ hut.

  Fiona’s village contained many pretty huts with yellow straw roofs and brightly coloured doors, and the people who lived in them were happy going about their everyday tasks. No one appeared to want to travel, to explore new ways or ideas, to go on adventures. Occasionally a villager married someone from a nearby village and moved there. That was the most exciting event that ever happened in her village. The whole village would prepare to mourn the loss of one of its residents and the departing villager would feel a terrible sadness that they were leaving the secure home that they had felt safe in and had known all their life.

  Fiona had been to three other nearby villages during her childhood and found them to be remarkably similar to her own: same straw roofs, same coloured doors, same sort of villagers. She couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.

  Fiona longed for something different. She dreamt of meeting someone extraordinary, someone unusual. She did not wish to marry any of the boys from her village or the neighbouring ones. Even the attractive ones she found tiresome and she felt she had nothing worth saying to them, or anyone for that matter. No one appeared interesting and the conversations were always the same.

  “How is your mother?”

  “How is your sister?”

  “How is the weather?”

  “How are the animals?”

  These were pointless conversations and the answers to them were already known anyway. Fiona lost her enthusiasm for talking to anyone. She became listless. She preferred to spend her time with the village animals and, as she grew up, looking after them became her full-time job.

  Each villager had their own occupation so that the village functioned smoothly, and the villagers traded their skills. Some built the huts, some repaired the huts, some found the food, some cooked the food, some fed the food to those who were unable to feed themselves. Food and shelter were the most important jobs in the village. Marriage and family developed, strengthened and held the village together.

  Although Fiona still lived in her parents’ hut, she at least had her independence and the ability to trade. Her parents had long since given up introducing her to suitable boys to marry. The village elders would not allow a villager to occupy a hut by themselves; they were family huts. Fiona’s life had remained the same since she was a child. She spent less and less time in the hut and preferred to be outside with the animals. She did not have to engage in stupid conversations with them, as an animal knows instinctively how the weather is and whether another is ill. They did not spend their time worrying about having a husband, but still were able to have young. One animal would father several young with different mothers and no one denied them shelter or banished them from the village. Fiona wondered why animals were allowed to be different.

  The animals were kept within the parameters of the village, but occasionally one would stray into the forest. Fiona loved it when an inquisitive animal did this as it gave her an excuse to leave the village and feel free within the forest. The trees were not orderly like her village was. Their branches stretched and grew towards the light, bending and twisting over the years. The leaves danced and floated with the wind, falling and growing again with the seasons. The flowers were not planted in neat rows but sprung up wherever they pleased. The weeds teased the trees edging onto their territory without fear of reciprocation, creeping and surrounding and capturing whatever space they wanted. The wild animals knew no boundaries and darted and roamed around the forest. The birds flew free.

  No animal had to wear clothes. The villagers were not allowed to roam around naked and wore the skins of dead animals. Fiona used to wonder why she had to look like one of the animals but not behave like one. She questioned the rules but was told by her mother that the people who made them were wise and she should not question but follow them.

  At the beginning of the forest just outside the village, a woman lived alone. She didn’t follow the rules of the village but lived off the forest. She only occasionally traded with the villagers if there was something she could not get from the forest, but she found the earth supplied her with most things. If she needed to trade, she would offer the villagers one of the beautiful crafts she had made out of vines or wood from the trees. These crafts were exquisite and were often presented to villagers upon marriage or the celebration of the birth of a child. The villagers thought her a witch or a madwoman for not conforming, but Fiona thought her wise. In fact, she thought she would one day take on that role as she longed not to be like the rest of the villagers. The wise woman was called Maggie, and Fiona had never heard her speak. As Fiona passed her in the forest while looking for a wandering animal, Maggie would smile, or wave and Fiona would smile back. Maggie was beautiful, with long hair turning grey in the autumn of her life and kind, wise eyes. Her hut didn’t have a brightly coloured door but was the natural colour of the forest. It didn’t have perfect symmetry, but instead bulged and spread unequally as Maggie had clearly built and repaired it herself as she seldom traded her skills with the villagers.

  In the past Fiona had learned that Maggie had traded by teaching the village children but had left the village when the elders had found her t
eachings too unorthodox. Fiona had asked her parents what it was that Maggie had taught that the elders didn’t like, and her mother had told her the conflict was mainly about Maggie telling the young girls they didn’t need a husband, and clearly they did, because that was the village way of life.

  Fiona had heard this story from her mother when she was a young girl and had been fascinated by it. “Why do we have to marry?” she would ask.

  Her mother’s reply was always “Because it is our way; you cannot live alone.”

  “But Maggie does!” Fiona would insist, and jump up and down, questioning everything she was told, but soon after she was told to be quiet.

  In the end Fiona did become quiet and found no one she wanted to marry. She knew she was a disappointment and already labelled as different. She knew her parents were ashamed of her, and one day she would inevitably have to leave the village and live alone off the forest in a sad-looking bulging hut.

  *

  Then one day Fiona’s life changed. A dark stranger turned up in the village, quite unlike anyone she had ever met before. He stood tall and proud with a long neck and enormous shoulders. His beady eyes were jet black, darting around, quickly surveying his surroundings, until they rested on Fiona’s face and smiled. The stranger was welcomed into the village by the elders, Peter and Michael, who offered him a guest hut and a feast, as was their tradition. The villagers gathered around and brought the finest food, and they ate together and listened to the stranger’s tales.

  The stranger called himself Sicarus, and claimed he lived in a village far away, beyond the forest, where people lived not in huts with straw roofs, but in houses high up in the trees, made of sticks. Fiona sat, fascinated to hear of new and exciting places beyond her imagination; her pulse raced, and her eyes opened wide, fixed on the stranger.

  After the villagers departed for their huts, Fiona’s parents signalled to her to leave too and let the stranger be. But she couldn’t. She was mesmerised. “I will be home soon.” She waved, lingering, hoping Sicarus would accept her company. And he did.

  They talked half the night, and Sicarus lavished Fiona with his attention. He told her stories of his adventures in faraway places and filled her mind with new and exciting ideas. Her face was illuminated in the moonlight, and for the first time in her life she really adored being with someone, and longed to remain with him. She finally realised that she had the potential to no longer want to be alone and could fit in with the village values after all. Perhaps her parents and the rest of the village were right; this was the way things were meant to be and she could live happily with a man. All her life she had been waiting for this moment and now it was upon her. She enjoyed talking to him so much that they sat together and talked all night until the moon yawned and closed his weary eyes.

  As dawn drew nearer Sicarus asked Fiona if she wanted to see something truly wonderful, but she must promise to keep what he was to show her a secret. Fiona promised, and was told by Sicarus to creep away with him, so no one could see. Her heart beat faster and Fiona was shocked as Sicarus whispered to her, “I can fly.” At the sight of her puzzled face, he told her that he had developed a special power whereby he could turn into a bird for a little while and fly into the sky. “During that time, I will be unable to speak, so you must listen now to my instructions to keep yourself safe and do exactly as I tell you.”

  Fiona nodded, unable to comprehend the situation, wondering if she could be dreaming.

  “Stay away from me whilst I am transforming,” Sicarus commanded, “or you may get scratched. When I am done, I will nod my head and you must climb onto my back and place both arms around my neck and hold on tight. Do not under any circumstances obstruct my wings. Now stand very still over there.”

  Fiona moved aside and stood exactly where she was told, trembling while the transformation started. She saw Sicarus start to extend his beautiful long neck and raise his arms, his powerful shoulders expanding as spikes began to break through his skin. He began to screech, apparently in pain, which made Fiona startle and want to run away but she stood firm, against her instincts. The spikes grew bigger and began to unfold and fan out into feathers and started to cover his body. Soon his skin was no longer visible, and all Fiona could see were sleek black feathers. His body shape changed from slim and upright to puffed and angular, the base of his spine spreading out into a feathery array. His legs became thinner and scaly, and his feet stretched out into three sharp claws rooting into the ground.

  Within a few moments his face gave way to that of a bird, a black beak protruding from his features which were now unrecognisable except for those beady black eyes. Fiona was terrified, but when the bird nodded his head, she did exactly what she had been told and climbed onto his soft, feathered back and placed her arms around his ruffled neck, being careful not to touch his wings.

  Her fear soon turned to exhilaration as he took off and started to fly above her village until the huts were tiny dots below. They flew towards the shining stars, the cool moon whispering through her hair that she was the only girl he had ever seen flying past him. The moon was fully awake again, excited by the night’s events, keeping the dawn waiting patiently until she could awake the earth. Fiona felt special, privileged, a stranger in a part of the universe which belonged only to magical creatures. They soared over other villages, their tiny lights like pinpricks, dark, eerie forests and majestic mountains rising proudly in the moonlight.

  Fiona didn’t want her adventure to end, but eventually the bird circled and swooped down towards her village, landing smoothly on the ground, his sharp claws digging into the earth. She climbed carefully off his back, expecting the bird to transform back into Sicarus, but he flew away in silence. She stood there for a while, wondering if he would come back, but no one came. Fiona didn’t know what to do. She had just experienced the best and most wonderful time of her life, but now she stood there, all alone again and cold. Her mind was telling her that nothing that had just happened was real, but her heart was telling her she had just met the man of her childhood dreams. But never had she dreamt of a man with magical powers. This was beyond anything her imagination could have created. The man she had met was interesting, attractive, unimaginably magical and irresistible. But why had he left her? Couldn’t he have turned back into Sicarus? Was he coming back?

  Then a terrible thought struck her: was she unattractive to him? Had she done something wrong whilst on his back? Would she ever see him again?

  Deep panic set in. She had never felt such insecurity before. Perhaps he had taken many girls flying and then left them. But then she remembered the moon so coolly whispering to her that she was the only one he had seen. Her head began to spin, and suddenly it all became too much for her brain to process. She needed sleep, so eventually she drifted back to her family’s hut and fell asleep as the dawn finally let herself in.

  Chapter Two

  The following morning Fiona awoke to Sicarus and nearly half of the village crowded into her hut, surrounding her. She must have been so tired that she had slept through them all coming in. Her mum was beaming.

  “It’s all sorted,” she announced proudly. “You can have the wedding here next week. Unfortunately, Sicarus’ parents live far away so they won’t be able to make it.”

  Fiona sat bolt upright in shock. Wedding? Her head whirled as the faces of the villagers’ span past, all smiling. Sicarus had come back! He was real! He did want her! He wanted to marry her! But he hadn’t asked her, and she had only met him the day before. Next week? Everyone seemed so happy, and Sicarus had clearly planned it all with her parents without her knowledge or consent. What should she say? What should she do? But of course, she would consent. Why wouldn’t she? He was the man of her dreams and the best man she had ever met in her life. Everything was just happening so fast. Then Fiona started to smile, especially when she saw her parents’ proud faces. She was no longer at risk of becoming the outsider
, the madwoman in a bulging, uneven hut.

  The villagers prepared for the wedding, weaving brightly coloured flowers around where the ceremony would be and preparing the food. Sicarus remained in the village for the week, but the couple snuck off most nights to fly around the sky. It had been the best week of Fiona’s life. She was enjoying the romance, their special secret. She was also enjoying her parents’ attention. She found she could have conversations with them again, and with the other villagers. “How are the preparations coming along?” the villagers would ask her, and she would ask of them. Both sides knew the answer to the question as it was obvious from the state of the village, but this time Fiona did not see it as a pointless question. Now she was truly conversing with the villagers and had a common theme with them at long last. And every night she looked forward to her magical flight past the moon.

  Each night Sicarus transformed into the bird, and she stood where he told her to and did exactly what he said. How kind he was, wanting to keep her safe during the transformation and the flight, she thought as she looked at his sharp talons one night. The moon whispered to her every night that she was still the only girl he had ever seen flying by. The thrill of the flight, the coldness of the night air, the magical night sky all continued to take her breath away. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined such an adventure. She looked forward with excitement to her imminent marriage to this magical stranger, to a life ahead that was better than she could have ever imagined. She knew now why she hadn’t wanted to marry any of the village boys. She was clearly destined for something more special.

  Each night he transformed into the bird, but unlike the first night, after the flight he changed back into Sicarus and did not leave her. On one night the flight seemed much longer than the previous ones, and eventually they set down in a dark, thick, unknown forest. The bird beckoned Fiona to get down and changed back into Sicarus again, his feathers folding in on themselves, turning into spikes and disappearing to reveal his skin, his beak shrinking away to form a smiling mouth once more.