The Dress (Everyday Magic Trilogy: Book 1) (29 page)

I know how it begins, the shape of it, the feel of it, how the words sound in my mouth when I say them out loud, how all the different pieces might fit together.

And now I think I know how it ends.

But this old photograph of Mamma and Madaar-Bozorg has sparked off new connections. My mind won’t stay still.

I’m trying to make sense of it, trying to relax my mind to that single, still point, let my breathing go quiet, let the raw edges find their own pattern and the rougher seams smooth themselves.

What would Mamma do?

I can feel her now, all around me, even though she’s thousands of miles away. A faint crackle under my fingers, a squiggle of blue, a flicker of yellow.

‘
Shhhh
.’ The Signals whisper. ‘
Shhhh… Listen…
’

And I can hear her now on the other side of the ocean, her voice with its slow rich vowels as she stirs the sugar in her cup of coffee, seven times and always anti-clockwise.

‘What do you feel,
carina
?’ she says, ‘What do you feel, deep inside you? What does this fabric already know? What does it want to be?’

Grace sits in the middle of the shop floor and looks at me with her calm, clear eyes. I smile at her and scribble quickly in my notebook:

‘An overcoat, a pair of leopard print shoes, a plume of emerald green feathers…’

I can’t wait to get started.

Acknowledgements

I’m grateful to Clarissa Pinkola Estés for her telling of the stories of the soulskin and La Llorona (The Weeping Woman) in
Women Who Run with the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype,
1996, Ballantyne Books, which inspired some of Fabbia’s story-telling; and to Mark Strand for his beautiful poem ‘The Dress.’

I’d like to thank Debora Geary, Helen Harrop and Verity Nicholls for their early reading and feedback on the manuscript; and all the readers of
Ruby Slippers
for their  encouragement.

A special thank you to Roger Nicholls for issuing the challenge; and Tom for believing in me.