Part 1 – The Formative Years
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH HER?”
“Nothing.” Mammy continued to cradle me to her chest. “She’s perfect.”
“Why isn’t she talking by now?” Caoimhe didn’t look happy. She didn’t sound happy either. “Lizzie is three, Mam. Three. And she’s not doing anything she’s supposed to be doing.”
“She’s fine, Caoimhe,” Mammy said, using an extra happy voice. “She’ll catch up.” She kissed my cheek, and I burrowed in close to her chest. I loved her smell and the way she held me tight. I liked to press my ear against her chest and listen to her heart thump.
Thump, thump, thump.
I smiled and touched her face. She had the best face. She had kind eyes. They were blue, just like mine. I knew the color. I knew all the colors and wanted to tell my sister that. I just…couldn’t get the words to come out.
My voice wouldn’t work.
“Do you think she’s slow?” Caoimhe asked, sounding sad, and I wanted to make her feel better because I wasn’t slow at running. I was super fast. “Does she need, like, a special school or something?”
“This is not a conversation for little ears.” Mammy’s voice was cross now, and I didn’t like it. Burrowing in deeper, I hid my face in her cardigan. “So please, just go and do your homework. We can talk about this tonight when your father gets home.”
“I want to go home.”
“We are home, Caoimhe.”
“No, I want to go back to our real home,” she shouted. “I hate it in England, Mam. I don’t have any friends, and everyone at school teases me for the way I talk.”
“They’re idiots,” Mammy told her. “Ignore them.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” my sister said before turning to me. “You ruined everything,” she screamed. “I wish you were never born.”
“Caoimhe!”
“I’m not sorry, Mam, because it’s true!”
“Look at me, pretty girl,” Mammy said after my sister had stomped out of the room. “Show me those big, blue eyes.”
I did.
“There you are.” Smiling warmly, she brushed my hair off my face. “You are perfect, do you hear me?”
I nodded.
“You are my baby, and I will always look after you.” She tickled under my chin and smiled. “And you must never let anyone make you feel like there is something wrong with you.” She tickled my chin again. “Do you understand me, Lizzie?”
I nodded again.
“Good.” She smiled again. “I love you, sweetheart.”
