I heard me name but it meant nowt to me. Not at first. My heart was hammering inside my chest. It didn’t feel like mine. It made me think of a crazy person headbutting a wall, over and over. I might have giggled a bit, like the lunatic had taken over. It was all just wet air and wet road and grey sky and hard stone beneath my head. What had happened? Why was I laying in the road, arm under my body like it belonged to somebody else. And then I saw the bird. A flicker of it; an insinuation of feathers and spindly bones, fluttering into my mind as if it were an eyelash caught on the edge of my vision. It was the rhythm, I think. The swift pat-pat-pat of my pulse turning into a peck-peck-peck of a sharp, angry beak. Everything flooded back. Hit me like a wave. I was on the ground outside my house. Grazed knees, bleeding palms, a pain all down one side. A bird had come through the window at Fairfax’s. It had stripped the years from me; made me a child, wrapped up in ribbons by a terror beyond reason. I’d fled, Cordelia calling my name. The wagon had been slowing down, ready for the turn down towards the church. The driver saw me just in time, swinging the vehicle to the left. I’d stood still. Just stood, motionless, like I had roots sunk into the earth. Something had hit me. A sudden blur of speed and power and I had hit the ground as the wagon struck the side of Fairfax’s house and sent slates tumbling from the roof and scattered the birds into the clouds.

Groggy, I looked to my left. He was on his knees, breathing slowly, like he’d run a race. He was looking at me, face pale. Looking as if I had done this on purpose. As I had let him down.

‘Jaysus, where did ye come from? My God, I thought I’d squashed you flat. Are you hurt? Mother Mary, you’re bleeding so you are.’

It felt like I was underwater. The voices were muffled. Everything was moving slowly. I opened my mouth wide. Stared up at the slow-moving clouds and thought they looked soft and warm and comfortable.

‘Mrs Goose. Can you hear me? Oh Jesus she’s bumped her head …’

‘She had a fright. Ran straight out …’

‘Christ, Ronan, ye’ve tekken half the wall down.’

‘Never mind that, how’s the other? Who were it?’

Something popped behind my jaw and suddenly everything sounded clear. I saw myself, laying on the road, skirt all pulled up, one shoe missing and cuts all over my skin. I started to blush. What a fuss …

‘Jesus, you saved her life. She’d have been under the wheels …’

‘Brian, are you OK? Can you hear me?’