Esme's Wish

Chapter 2-2

Esme slumped down on her bed and buried her face in her hands, desperately trying to make sense of what had just happened.

With no warning, apart from the onset of a headache, she had somehow borne witness to a scene from the distant past. It wasn’t a memory of her own, or at least she didn’t think it was. Maybe it was all just her imagination.

She massaged her temples, trying to ease the headache, which had returned with a vengeance. Her hands were still white from soaking in the tub, the lines on her palms distended like a river swollen in flood.

It had all been so vivid.

Mum. I just saw Mum.

She was right there, looking at me.

Her heart stung, cut by the serrated edge of memory. Painful recollections rose in her mind—real ones, this time, not strange visions. Her younger self was perched on the front steps of the cottage, squishing tiny buds of lavender between her fingers, the scent of it on her hands and in the air around her. A bee buzzed nearby, feeding on the purple blooms. Silently she sat, swamped with a loneliness her small frame couldn’t contain. Any moment now her missing mother would walk through the gate. Tell her it had all been a mistake. Just a mean trick on her part.

The memory lingered a while, like part of her was still waiting on those steps.

Reuben, who had followed her upstairs, jumped into her lap, jolting Esme back into the present. She had no idea what to do about her vision, or who to tell. Certainly not Mavis. The headache began to ease, and she decided to tell no one—for now. When her father returned, she would ask him about it. Surely, he would reassure her, tell her that everything was okay. After all, her mother had experienced the same headaches, and nothing like this had ever happened to her.

At least, as far as she knew.