The Skylark Bell

In today’s episode we read the chapter 17 – A Childhood Dream Come True – in which Farfalla embraces her new role as The Skye Lark Belle.

This week's podcast partner is The Haunted UK: https://linktr.ee/hauntedukpodcast

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 17 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode Farfalla was crowned the first Skye Lark Belle at the very first edition of the Lark Festival of Skye.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 17 – A Childhood Dream Come True – in which Farfalla embraces her new role as The Skye Lark Belle.

Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod Network member The Haunted UK. You may recognize the name from past collaborations in season 2 of The Skylark Bell such as The Redheaded Hitchhiker, The Cellar, and Return to Manor Ridge Farm. The Haunted UK is a brilliant podcast that explores both the paranormal AND the unexplained. Be sure to check the show notes for a link to their podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

August 1st, 1797

As a child, I wanted nothing more than to be The Skye Lark Belle. 

I remember the sound of Mama’s voice as she read from the brown leather-bound book with the gold etching on the on the cover. I remember sitting by the fire with Paloma, each with a cup of hot cocoa and a blanket. I remember imagining in my head the images that went with the words Mama was reading. A beautiful woman with long red hair, just like mine, walking out of the ocean in her long white dress. The people on the beach were spell-bound by her beauty. They brought her to the Lark Festival and put her on a stage where she sang for everyone, and they all fell in love with her, and crowned her the Belle of the Lark Festival of Skye. 

I wanted it all. I wished for it with every fiber of my being. The adoration, the gifts, the crown. I sat and wished for it every single day, sitting on that big rock in the middle of mirror pond.

I didn’t know then that it was a true story. I didn’t know then that it was based on my very own life. Who would ever have believed that?! I didn’t know then that the old adage, be careful what you wish for, would ever ring so true? 

I have paid dearly for that wish. I will never see Elisabeth again, she won’t be born for over 130 years. I will never know what happened to James. I will never see Mama, Papa, or Paloma again, and they will never know what happened to me. They’ll never guess that my entire story is written in a book that bought in a small overseas bookshop and gifted to Mama years ago.

We all thought it was just a story. But it’s real.

Very, very real.

~~~~~~

Farfalla landed on the beach only a few days ago and has been asleep for most of that time. After being crowned at the lark festival she walked through the field in a daze, shying away as people came to her one after the other, touching her hair, asking her to sing, asking her what it is like being a sea creature. Finally, the old woman had shooed them away and collected her husband from the ale tent so he could drive them home to a small house at the end of a long dirt road. They give her two helpings of boiled fish and potato stew, then a cup of oats with milk and honey, before showing her to her room. Farfalla lets herself sink into the straw bed, the hearty meal having filled her stomach, and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.

“Rise and shine!” comes a voice from the doorway. Farfalla groggily sits up turns to let her legs dangle off the edge of the bed, her feet resting on the rough wood floor. The old woman from the cart walks into the room carrying a tray. “I’ve brought ye some oats n’ berries, and a tall glass of milk. That’ll put ye right, you’ll see,” she says cheerfully as she places the tray on the bed next to Farfalla.

“Thank you Mrs. Sutherland,” says Farfalla.

“Please, call me Agnes, we’re practically family now,” replies the old woman with a chuckle.

Farfalla bristles at the mention of family. 

Farfalla rubs her eyes and looks down at a tin cup filled with wild roses sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. She leans over to smell them, and the scent brings her back to Meadow Lane the day she made her own crown of vines and twigs. She had placed a wild rose in it. She feels a pang of sadness hit her in the gut. Blinking back tears, she scans the room, and lets out a gasp. Every possible surface is covered with a makeshift vase filled with wildflowers; bluebells, daisies, clover, violets, marigolds, forget-me-nots… “They’re from the villagers” Agnes explains, “They’re happy you have chosen Pòcaid as your home.”

Pòcaid. The name sounds familiar. Farfalla lets it roll around in her head for a moment, then it clicks. Pòcaid is the name of the village she and James were going to. Carnifex House must be nearby!

“I’ve altered one of my dresses for you,” Agnes’ voice cuts through Farfalla’s thoughts, “it’ll be perfect for your performance tonight,” she says.

Farfalla’s brow furrows. “Performance?” she asks.

“Yes, the Brackenridge girl is ill again, Margaret is convinced the healing powers of a Selkie will make it right. I’ve promised her you will come over tonight, to sing,” replies. Farfalla opens her mouth to protest but thinks better of it. Agnes’ tone left no room for discussion.

Farfalla finishes her breakfast and spends most of the day helping Agnes around the house while John tends to the fields. They eat and early supper together and Agnes sends Farfalla to her room to get ready. Farfalla struggles with the dress, the complex layers of undergarments very unfamiliar to her. Once she’s relatively confident everything is in its place she heads to the kitchen.

“I knew it would fit you,” gushes Agnes, fussing over the placement of the lace collar at the back of Farfalla’s neck. “We should go, they’ll be expecting us,” she says, nodding to John who gets up and marches out the door.

They sit in a row at the front of the horse cart, Farfalla in the middle. The dark bay mare, whose name is Violet, plods along what is clearly a familiar path. They turn down a long dirt lane and pull up in front of a two-story stone house with a vast, well-manicured garden in front. “Now, Mrs. Brackenridge is expecting you,” says Agnes, as she and Farfalla step out of the cart. She reaches into the folds of her skirts and pulls out the silver vine crown. “One last thing,” she says, placing it gently on Farfalla’s head. She stands back and scans her eyes up and down to ensure everything is in its place, then gives one short nod of approval. “Off you go then,” she says, gesturing toward the front door.

“Ar-aren’t you coming with me?” asks Farfalla, suddenly even more uncomfortable than she already was.

“No, the Brackenridge family is very particular,” she says, a hint of bitterness in her voice. She waves her hand one more time and climbs back into the cart. “We’ll be back to collect you in a little while,” she says as John gives Violet the signal to start walking.

Farfalla walks to the front door and reaches for the door knocker, but the door swings open before she has a chance to grasp it. A tall, older man with shoulders far too wide for his slim frame nods and gestures for her to come in. Farfalla steps into the hallway and notes the beautiful stone tile and ornate wood trim of the entryway.

“Our honoured guest has arrived!” calls a sing-songy voice at the end of the hall. Farfalla takes a few tentative steps in that direction and sees a woman with a beautifully designed dress and dark silken hair up in a complex twist held together by several jeweled pins. The woman extends a delicate hand with unusually long fingers toward Farfalla. “I am Margaret Brackenridge, and this is my husband Donald,” she says. Her speech is as graceful as her posture. Headmistress Tangella-Newsome would love her thinks Farfalla, her lips curving into a smile. “Please, this way. Our daughter has taken ill again. I am sure you are just the remedy for what ails her,” says Margaret Brackenridge. Farfalla finds herself unable to think of her as simply ‘Margaret’. 

They continue down the long hallway and up the stairs to a bedroom to the right of the landing. Inside the dimly lit room is a large four-poster bed with layers of thick blankets despite the summer heat. Farfalla can see a small, pale face peeking out from under the blankets. She walks to the bed and cautiously sits down. The little girl’s eyes open, and progressively widen when she sees Farfalla. 

“Hullo,” says the girl, quietly.

“Hello,” says Farfalla, smiling. “What’s your name?”

“Lissie,” she replies, and after a brief moment, “Well, really it’s Elisabeth,”

Faralla’s heart skips a beat. Elisabeth. She can feel her hands start to tremble so she shoves them under her legs. 

“I know who you are,” continues the girl, her voice barely above a whisper. Farfalla looks at her quizzically. “You’re the Skye Lark Belle!” at this her voice gains a little strength. “Mama says you came from the ocean, like a Selkie, and that you can make me better!”

Farfalla feels her eyes get sad. She can tell the girl is stricken with some kind of degenerative illness. The best she can do is bring her some temporary comfort. “Well, what do you say we walk over to that rocking chair and I sing you a little song?” she asks. The little girl nods, and Farfalla helps her get out of bed and take a few steps over to the chair. Farfalla sits down and lifts the girl onto her lap. She rocks back and forth for a moment before she starts singing. First the old French lullaby she once sang to her own Elisabeth, then, almost unconsciously, the song of the Oak Tree. She opens her eyes as the last note echoes through the room, and looks down at the child. The girl is looking up at her wide-eyed, and there is a rosiness to her cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“Lissie?” Margaret Brackenridge walks across the room and looks down at her daughter. Lissie wiggles off Farfalla’s lap and stands up, then takes several confident steps around the room. “Lissie, you’re walking!” exclaims her mother, grabbing the girl and lifting her into her arms. “Thank you,” she says to Farfalla, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“The Sutherlands have arrived,” says the tall, slim butler from the doorway.

“I should be going,” says Farfalla. She leans in toward the girl, no sitting on the edge of the bed and swinging her legs back and forth. “Goodbye, Elisabeth,” she says, running a hand down the girl’s cheek. She turns away quickly before they can see the tears brewing in her eyes, and scurries down the stairs and through the long hallway to the front door.

“Wait!” shouts Mr. Brackenridge, running behind her. Farfalla stops in her tracks, running a finger under her eyelid to catch a tear. She turns to face the man. “How will we ever repay you?” he asks.

“Oh, no need to repay me,” she says, “I’m just happy I could help.” With that, she turns and leaves.

“How did it go?” asks Agnes, shifting to the middle of the seat so Farfalla can get into the cart.

“She’s feeling well now,” replies Farfalla, pulling the crown off her head and putting it into the back of the cart. They ride the rest of the way home in silence, and Farfalla heads straight to bed, visions of Lissie and her own Elisabeth swirling into one another as she falls asleep.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 18 – Pocaid – in which Farfalla becomes close with the Carnifex children, Frannie and Felix.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further,  you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 16 – Selkie, in which Farfalla is stunned to find herself as the star of a somewhat familiar story.

This week's podcast partner is Cannelle:

http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 16 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode Farfalla awoke to strange surroundings and was rescued by villagers on the beach.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 16 – Selkie, in which Farfalla is stunned to find herself as the star of a somewhat familiar story.

Today’s podcast partner is Cannelle Music. Full disclosure, Cannelle is my stagename. I write and record all the music you hear in the The Skylark Bell, most of which is available on major streaming platforms on the album Songs from The Skylark Bell. I also record other unrelated music which you can find on streaming services and bandcamp. Just check the show notes for links to my website and related social media accounts.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

I don’t know what day it is.

The smell of roasting meat hits me first. Perhaps because I am so hungry. I breathe deeply, taking in the smell, hoping it will fill my stomach somehow. It feels good to be able to breath normally again, to fill my lungs with air without searing pain running through my chest. 

I open my eyes and look up to the sky. I’m still laying in the cart. If I turn my head slightly, I can see the man and woman sitting at the front, staring at the road ahead, leaning close to one another and speaking in hushed voices. I can catch bits and pieces of their conversation; “Festival… Selkie… Beach…” but the words make no sense to me. 

Finally, the cart comes to a stop, and I gingerly lift myself into a sitting position. My head immediately makes me pay the price with violent throbbing across my brow. I close my eyes for a moment and the headache subsides slightly. After a few minutes I find the courage to open my eyes and take a look at my surroundings. The first thing I see is a large banner with painted words that make my heart stop momentarily.

“Skye Lark Festival” and underneath, “First Annual” and beneath that, “1797”.

My first thought is that I am dreaming.

But you know the truth. You know I’m not dreaming. You even know where I am, when I am. Perhaps you’ve even guessed who I am. Or rather, who I am about to become.

~~~~~~

The horse cart is parked at the edge of a large field dotted with makeshift tents comprised of wooden poles with strips of fabric stretched across the top. The smell of roasting meat comes from one such tent where several slabs of meat threaded onto a pole are roasting over an open flame. 

Nearby, a group of women are gathered around a table cutting vegetables and cooked meat. Every once in a while, one of the women fills a large pot with as much as she can fit, pours in some water, and hangs the pot over a roaring fire just outside their tent. Nearby is a sign in the ground that reads “Millie’s Pottage”.

A few paces away is a tent with a sign out front that simply reads “Ale!”  Farfalla can hear shouting and laughter coming from the tent, which is filled from end to end with large, bearded men. 

The smell of freshly baked bread travels on the breeze, and Farfalla turns to see an outdoor stone oven. Working on wooden tables in front of it are several women, each completing a step of the bread-baking process. “Anna Jane’s Oat Bread” Farfalla whispers to herself, reading the wooden sign nailed to a stake that has been plopped into the ground in front of the wooden table where the women are working.

She scans her eyes across the other tents, noting one that displays an assortment of wool sweaters, tartans, and fabrics. Another with various leather goods, and next to that a tent with jewelry, silver cups, belt buckles, and other trinkets. People mill about the field like ants as Farfalla looks on, fascinated. The people are dressed oddly, and some of them speak a language she’s never heard before. She struggles to comprehend the rustic nature of the festival. Of course, she is in a more remote, rural part of Scotland, but the food preparation methods seem positively barbaric, especially in comparison to the wonderful dinner she had in Glasgow just a few nights ago. Everything about this place looks and feels like her idea of what life would have been like 150 years ago.

The piercing sound of bagpipes fills the air, and a crowd begins to form at the far end of the field, where a wooden platform has been installed to form stage. Slowly the crowd at the Ale tent breaks apart and the large bearded men plod slowly to join the crowd.

“Ah, she’s awake,” comes the woman’s voice from the front of the cart.

Farfalla turns to look at her. “Where are we?” she asks.

“You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be,” she replies, smiling. “Come on now!” she says, standing and hopping out of the cart. The man who was seated next to her climbs into the back of the cart and helps Farfalla to her feet. He hops out of the cart and lifts Farfalla by the waist as if she weighs no more than a feather before gently placing her on the ground.

“Welcome to the first annual Skye Lark Festival!” comes a booming voice from the stage up ahead. 

“If you don’t mind, I’m very tired, and I need to find a place where I can make a phone call, I have to get a hold of my sister. I need to let Elisabeth know I’m okay,” says Farfalla, pleading with the woman as she pulls Farfalla through the crowd with a firm grip on her arm. The woman continues on her mission as if she hasn’t heard a word Farfalla has said.

“I have been told, just a few moments ago, that John and Agnes Sutherland have something very special to share with us today, something very special indeed!” continues the man on the stage, his voice carrying across the field.

“Ma’am, please? Where are you taking me? I need to find out what happened to my-“

“She’s here!” shouts the old woman suddenly. Farfalla looks around, confused. Who’s here? The old woman elbows her way to the front of the crowd as Farfalla stumbles along. The man on the stage leans in and whispers something in the old woman’s ear. They go back and forth in hushed whispers, as the man glances curiously at Farfalla from the corner of his eye. Finally, the man nods and steps back.

“Ladies and gentlemen, be prepared to be amazed! What we have for you here is… positively mystical!” he shouts, waving his arm over his head in a flourish.

“Come on, git up!” fusses the old woman, pulling Farfalla onto the stage. Farfalla reluctantly follows, hopelessly confused, and almost delirious from exhaustion, hunger, and thirst. The old woman grabs her by the shoulders and turns her, so she is facing the crowd.

“What we have here, is a real-life SELKIE!” boasts the man next to her. The crowd lets out a collective gasp. Farfalla sees the woman in front of her instinctively place one hand on her chest and cover her mouth with the other. Next to that woman a couple look up at her in shock.

“’How do we know she’s a selkie? Don’t look nuthin’ like one,” says a burly man from the back of the crowd.

“How would you know what a selkie looks like, you ever seen one before?” asks the man next to him. 

The tension rises quickly, but just as it looks like a fight might break out the old woman, still standing next to Farfalla, intervenes. “I found ‘er me self, laying on the beach. Walked right out of the ocean, she did. Not a boat in sight.”

“Maybe she’s a witch!” shouts a woman to the left. Farfalla’s head snaps up then. Not this again! There is a sudden shift in the crowd, and Farfalla can sense a growing sense of animosity toward her. The shouting and arguing gets progressively louder. The sun is directly overhead now, its rays aiming directly for the top o her head, and making her feel slightly faint. She tries her best to tune out the shouting, placing her hands over her ears. I just want to go home, she thinks. Home, to Meadow Lane, to Mama, Papa and Paloma, to the apple orchard and its thousands of fragrant blossoms, to the fox cubs playing in the fields, to the safety of the Oak Tree. She closes her eyes and starts humming the song of the Oak Tree, that strange, sweet melody she heard one day as she sat on her favourite branch.

Her humming grows louder, and her lips part to let out the hypnotic sound of her voice. A hush settles over the crowd as they listen to her, mesmerized. Farfalla sings her heart out, sings for James, for Elisabeth, Mama, Papa, Paloma… for Marius. Finally, drained of all energy, all emotion, she closes her mouth and opens her eyes. The crowd in front of her stands in silence, wide-eyed. She turns to look at the old woman and the man on the stage, both are frozen in place. The man regains control of his functions first and claps his hands. 

“There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, our very own Selkie!” he says, his brow furrowed as if he’s not entirely convinced of what he’s saying. 

“Crown her!” shouts a woman from the center of the crowd. “Yes, crown her!” comes another voice nearby. Soon enough a chant of “Crown her!” fills the air.  The man nods and walks to the side of the stage where a woman hands him a silver crown made of vines and twigs. The man walks back to Farfalla and places the crown on her head.

“I hereby give you, the very first Belle of the Skye Lark Festival!” he shouts. The crowd responds with a loud roar.

Farfalla stands perfectly still, frozen in shock. The Belle of the Skye Lark Festival… the Skye Lark Belle, just like in Mama’s book. She had walked out of the ocean too. She had been brought to the festival too. She had sung for the villagers, and they’d all fallen in love with her too. A silver crown of vines and twigs had also been placed on her head. Farfalla reaches up to touch the crown. It feels very real. This entire experience feels utterly real. A shiver runs through as she realizes the truth.

She is the Skye Lark Belle.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 17 – A Childhood Dream Come True – in which Farfalla embraces her new role.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links. 

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast. 

In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out the unimaginable reality of what happened to Farfalla after the accident.

This week's podcast partner is Volsteadland: https://linkin.bio/volstead_land

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 15 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode Tragedy fell as the boat that James and Farfalla were travelling on shattered into the sea, leaving Farfalla to sink to the depths of the water.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out what happened to Farfalla after the accident.

Today’s podcast partner is Volsteadland. Hosts Amy and Heather take you to the deepest, darkest recesses of prohibition era Minneapolis while exploring the fascinating real life story of famous Twin Cities mobster Kid Cann. Even if you aren’t familiar with Minneapolis, or Kid Cann, this is a fascinating tale that you won’t want to miss. Just check the show notes for a link to Voslteadland.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

All is dark. 

I cannot tell if I’ve died. I cannot tell if I’m breathing. I cannot tell if I hear music, or voices, or a ringing in my ears. I cannot tell if I am moving or if I am still, if I am surrounded by water or by air, or by sand. I cannot tell if I feel arms around me, or waves, or wind.

My only thought is Elisabeth. My darling, beloved Elisabeth. If I focus all my attention, all my energy, all my being on her, perhaps there will be light…

… … …

I hear something. Voices. Shouting. Crashing waves.

I can feel air burning through my lungs. I can feel pain as my body sucks it in and pushes the water out. I can see a flicker of orange light through my closed eyelids, I think it is the sun. I think I can open my eyes. 

I think I am alive.

~~~~~~

“Over here!” shouts the man, waving an arm at the group of people further down the beach.

They rush over and stop short when they come to the body. The woman is laying in the sand, her white dress clinging to her wet body. Her red hair is splayed out in the sand like a crown. Around her neck is a silver chain with trinkets attached, a charm in the shape of a tree, a silver ring, and a small key shaped like a feather. There is nothing else around her to indicate who she is or where she has come from.

“Is she…” asks a woman, not daring to finish the sentence. The man shrugs, and gently kicks at the red-haired woman’s foot. At that precise moment the woman inhales deeply, emitting a loud raspy sound that startles the small group and causes them to jump back.

Farfalla blinks hard, blinded by the bright sunlight. She stays on the ground, trying to catch her breath. She can feel the pressure of the wet sand under her back. She must be on a beach. Her head hurts as she tries to recall what happened. She remembers being on the ferry, coming to Scotland, with James. James, her husband. There was a woman on top of the cliff, she threw something, and when it hit the water… Farfalla moans as a piercing headache stretches across her forehead like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, she thinks of Elisabeth. “Elisabeth,” she mumbles, struggling to sit up. A large, rough hand reaches out to help lift her into a sitting position. She can see the hazy outline of a person in front of her. “Elisabeth,” she croaks, a pleading tone in her voice.

“S’alright miss, dunnae worry yourself, you’re safe now,” says a man’s voice above her, his words garbled by her throbbing headache and the ringing in her ears. He crouches down to her level and comes into focus. Farfalla stares at his weathered face for a moment, noting his thick gray beard and gentle blue eyes. She blinks several times, then turns to look around. She can see the beach stretching on either side of her, and jagged stone cliffs reaching up into the sky. Ahead of her are fields dotted with the odd house, each connected by a winding road. She painfully turns her head to look back toward the water. Where are the docks? Where are the fishing boats?

“The boats…” she tries, but her throat is too raw to say anymore.

“Come, love, let’s get you some dry clothes and a cuppa tea, aye?” says a petite, older woman standing nearby. The woman nods at the men next to her, and they walk over to Farfalla. She feels their arms wrap around her and pull her to her feet. Now that she is upright, she can see there is a horse and cart parked on the road across the beach. Where are the cars? she wonders. James organized for a driver to take them from the docks to Carnifex House. She remembers him making the phone call from the hotel in Glasgow. The driver’s name was Geoffrey. Farfalla looks around the beach again. Where are the other passengers? Where is the ferry boat? If something happened to the boat, shouldn’t there be debris on the beach? She turns toward the water again, scanning the horizon for any sign of the ferry, the people… or James.

“Have you ever seen her before?” whispers the weathered-face man to the younger man standing next to him. The younger man shakes his head. “It’s like she just walked out’ the sea,” continues the older man. He and the younger man give one another a knowing look and the older man’s lips press together tightly.

“What’s this?” The woman’s voice brings Farfalla back to the present moment. The woman is holding up Farfalla’s clenched fist. Confused, Farfalla loosens her grip and looks down at her outstretched hand. Her hand immediately begins the tremble. The item her fingers brushed up against in the bottom of the sea. The last thing she felt before everything went dark. The mysterious item from her recurring dream, the one she never got a chance to see. In all the commotion she had forgotten all about it, but here it is now. Shining silver in her outstretched palm is The Skylark Bell. The same bell Marius had given her for her birthday all those years ago, the same one that hung in her window at Meadow Lane until the day she and her family left, the same one she herself had placed in a locked box and hidden under a floorboard in her old bedroom. Farfalla can hear the ringing in her ears progressively get louder. She feels a wave a nausea and dizziness rise from her feet to her head. She hears one of the men shout “She’s going to faint!” as someone leans in to catch her, then everything goes dark.

The man cradles Farfalla in his arms and carries her up the beach to the road. Another man helps him life her into the cart, and the old woman places a folded blanket under her head for support. “Here, take my flask. She’ll need a drink to steady her nerves when she wakes,” says the man with the weathered face. One of the men and the old woman settle into the front of the cart. The man makes a clicking sound with his tongue and taps the long reins on the horse’s back. Farfalla’s body jolts from side to side as the horse and cart start working their way up the long, steep, winding road.

The old woman turns back and stretches her arm to take the bell still loosely held in Farfalla’s hand. She rubs some sand off the surface with her thumb and holds it close to her face, squinting to make out the words engraved on it. “The Skylark Bell rings only for The Skye Lark Bell,” she reads, her pitch going up with every word. An audible gasp escapes the man sitting next to her. “It’s her!” she whispers, turning to the man, wide eyed.

Farfalla, semi-conscious, shakes her head from side to side. Her? Who? She wonders, too exhausted and confused to utter the words out loud. She lets the steady movement of the cart and the rhythmic pounding of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road lull her back to sleep. There will be plenty time to sort things out.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 16 – Selkie – In which Farfalla tries to get her bearings in her new surroundings.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further, you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 14 – Look to the Skye, in which James and Farfalla make their way to the Isle of Skye to claim Carnifex House.

This week's podcast partner is Murder Roadtrip: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/shannon-quinn6

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 14 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode Farfalla and James brought Elisabeth to stay with Paloma in preparation for their trip.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 14 – Look to the Skye, in which James and Farfalla make their way to the Isle of Skye to claim Carnifex House.

Today’s podcast partner is Murder Roadtrip, also members of the Boopod Network of paranormal and true crime podcasts. This podcast takes listeners on a weekly roadtrip across the US to discuss true crime and the occasional spooks through each of the 50 States. Check the show notes for a link to the Murder Roadtrip podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

August 17th, 1932

I started missing Elisabeth the moment our train pulled away from the city. I thought of her the entire ride to the coast. Crossing the ocean on the ship felt absolutely endless. The waves made me queasy and unsteady on my legs even after we finally reached the shore nearly two weeks later. 

The train ride across the stunning landscape of mainland Scotland helped ease my woes a bit. James and I spent a romantic night in Glasgow, walking the cobblestone streets and enjoying a lovely dinner before retreating to our hotel room. The next morning, I bought a postcard at the hotel gift shop and mailed it off to Paloma, then we went to the small café across the street where we were served a proper Scottish breakfast. At noon we packed up our suitcases and headed to the station to catch a train to the coastal town of Smeòrach (SHMUR-arch).

Upon our arrival we went directly to the boarding house. The owners, Mr. and Mrs. Harrier were very kind. Their daughter Callie immediately offered me a bouquet of wildflowers.  Her curly auburn hair reminded me of Elisabeth’s, and my mother’s heart soared the rest of the day. The Harriers gave us a tour of the village, and we enjoyed dinner with them at a local pub called The Copper Hen. They explained the ferry schedule and told us old folk tales from the region that involved a myriad of mystical creatures like faeries and selkies and sirens. I went to bed with images of girls dancing on the beach with wildflower crowns in their auburn hair swirling in my head. 

I wonder what Elisabeth has been dreaming about.

Now it is morning, and we must take the ferry. I cannot bear the thought of getting on another boat. The sickening smell of the sea makes my stomach churn. I am having some regrets about this trip. It has been wonderful for James and I to find our way back to each other again, but I didn’t realize my soul would ache for Elisabeth like this, and I didn’t realize the deep-rooted fear of water that is in me.

I hear the sound of the ferry horn now, and the boat has shifted away from the shore. At least we have almost reached our destination, it won’t be long now, only a few hours. Setting foot on the shore will bring me great relief.

~~~~~~

Farfalla grips the railing tightly and stares out at the endless stretch of water ahead. Crossing shouldn’t take much more than an hour, only a fraction of the travel she and James have endured to get to this point. James is accustomed to traveling for work, this trip has not consumed him with worry and exhaustion the way it has for Farfalla.

“The woman at the ticket counter mentioned an award-winning bakery in the village, what do you say we head there first when we reach the island?” he asks, gently rubbing his hand along her back.

Farfalla turns to him and smiles. Despite her feelings about the trip itself, spending time alone with James has allowed them to rekindle their relationship. Whatever their future may hold, she is glad she will be sharing it with him, and Elisabeth, of course. “That sounds wonderful,” she whispers, leaning in for a kiss. 

They turn to look back out at the sea, standing side by side on the deck of the ferry as it cuts through the choppy waters. James points to a point far ahead and says “I see land, we’re getting closer!” Farfalla squints, and sure enough she can see a dark mass rising out of the water straight ahead. 

The ferry ploughs through the water, steadily bringing them closer and closer to the island. Tall, jagged cliffs eventually come into view, rising from either side of a small port with docks reaching out of it like outstretched fingers. Farfalla feels relief wash over her, and she is stunned at the realization that deep down inside she didn’t think they would actually make it. She had pushed the thought to the deepest reaches of her subconscious, but it was always there. She scans the shoreline, noting the white houses haphazardly strewn across the green fields. She sees fishing boats bobbing close to the shore, and a flock of gulls circling close to the docks, probably looking to score some food left behind by the fishermen. Her eyes travel to the base of the cliffs, and she watches the waves crash repeatedly against the rock. She lets her gaze run up the rock to the top of the cliff, and gasps as she sees a woman standing at the very edge, her arm stretched behind her as far as it will go. Recognition sets in almost immediately. It is the same woman she saw walking out of Priscilla Ponceroy’s room all those years ago. The woman who looks just like her. Farfalla’s eyes grow wide as the woman swings her arm forward and flings something over the cliff’s edge with all her might. The sun reflects off the surface of the object as it spirals down toward the crashing waves. 

Farfalla instinctively grabs James’ arm and points to the woman with her other hand. James, confused, looks down at Farfalla’s hand, feeling the searing pain of her death grip shoot up his arm to his shoulder. He glances at her face and follows her pointing finger to look up at the cliff. He sees tall grass billowing in the breeze on top of the wall of rock. “Falla, what is it?” he asks, puzzled.

“The woman- ” she begins. Just then the object hits the ocean. The water, the boat, the cliffs, the entire island, perhaps the entire world, heaves and James is ripped away her grasp. She can feel herself soaring through the air, like in slow motion. She hears the sickening crack of the boat being torn to shreds. Followed by the screams and splashing of people being thrown into the sea. The smell of burning wood fills the air, mixing with the salty scent of the sea. Her eyes focus on the blue sky above her, the wispy clouds floating overhead completely oblivious to the horror occurring below. 

Farfalla gasps as her body hits the icy water. She sinks below the surface before she can comprehend what is happening. Panicked, she shifts her head from side to side, looking for help. Something, someone, anyone! She regains control of her body and thrashes her arms around, battling against the undertow, trying to make her way back to the surface, but the current pulls her deeper and deeper under water, spinning her body around like a ragdoll. Finally, she feels herself sink into the sandy bottom of the sea, her arms stretched out on either side. Her fingers brush up against an object in the sand nearby, and she grasps it with what little strength she has left. She looks up toward the surface of the water and sees the sun’s rays piercing their way through to caress her face. 

On the other side of the world, in the field in front of Meadow Lane, the Oak Tree emits a silent sound, a song that no one hears. The soundwaves carry across the ocean and plunge to its depths, wrapping themselves around Farfalla’s body as her white gown and red hair float softly around her.

She gives up her fight then and releases the last breath of air from her lungs with one word: “Elisabeth”. She closes her eyes, shutting out the sun, and lets the darkness fall over her. Just like in her dream.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 15 – The Dark, The Day – in which we find out what happened to Farfalla after the horrific accident.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast. 

n today’s episode we read the chapter 13 – A Night on the Town, in which James and Farfalla travel to Paloma’s home to drop off Elisabeth in preparation for their trip.

This week's podcast partner is Certainly Strange: https://open.spotify.com/show/1stSYQC9Sqox9TwbU48Dof?si=ct4_QX_NQh6hHZHxZ9eyVA&utm_source=copy-link&nd=1

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 13 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode James received a letter from a distant relative informing him that he is to inherit a house on the Isle of Skye in Scotland.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 13 – A Night on the Town, in which James and Farfalla travel to Paloma’s home to drop off Elisabeth in preparation for their trip.

Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod network member Certainly Strange. An attempted murder on a ghost, cursed paintings burning houses down, and lighthouse keepers disappearing without a trace. The world is filled with astonishing stories that will make you think "I don't know what’s going on here, but it is certainly strange!" Join host Nemo on a journey through the strangest parts of our history. Check the show notes for a link to the Certainly Strange podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

July 14th, 1932 

I had the dream again last night.

I haven’t had the dream since we left Meadow Lane. I thought it was over. The water rushing over my head, and that interminable darkness at the end.

This time I woke to find myself on the dirt road staring at the Oak Tree at Meadow Lane in the earliest morning light. I had never ventured this far during my other sleepwalking episodes. Thankfully it was too early for anyone else to be up, and I was able to hurry home before anyone noticed I was gone. 

I have succeeded in avoiding casting eyes on Meadow Lane up until today, and the sight of it; abandoned, disheveled, forgotten… it broke my heart. I only allowed myself to stay for a brief moment while memories of my time there came flooding back; birthdays, holidays… Marius. 

I waved goodbye to the Oak Tree before walking away, and I swear I heard it singing. A soft, sorrowful song, echoing in the air around me. The song echoes in my head even now as I pack our bags.

We are leaving Pocket today.

~~~~~~

“Bye bye,” says Elisabeth, waving goodbye to the birds on the porch railing as the car pulls away. Farfalla feels something tug at her heart as they leave their house for the city. Paloma has agreed to care for Elisabeth while Farfalla and James travel overseas to settle the affairs of Uncle George Archibald and Carnifex House. Farfalla turns to glance at James, who is focused on the road ahead. He has been apprehensive about taking over Carnifex House from the moment the letter arrived. Farfalla struggles to understand why he seems hesitant, to her it sounds like a fantastic opportunity. 

“Are you excited to see Auntie Paloma?” asks Farfalla over her shoulder, turning her head to glance at Elisabeth in the back seat.

“Loma’s house! Biscuits!” says Elisabeth. James laughs wholeheartedly at this. It is no secret that Elisabeth gets more than her fair share of biscuits when she visits Paloma.

Farfalla reached out to Paloma to smooth things out just before the holidays. She felt terrible about overreacting to the hobby horse Paloma had bought for Elisabeth. They made peace easily, and spent the holidays together at Mr. and Mrs. Shearwater’s apartment in the city. It was a great relief to Farfalla since there are so few people in her life who embrace and love her. Though the people of Pocket stopped being outright cruel once Elisabeth came along, they still excluded Farfalla and her family from any community events or gatherings. James never seemed bothered by it, sharing a life with Farfalla seemed to be enough for him. 

The drive to the city goes by rather quickly. Farfalla holds her breath as they pass The Aviary Finishing School for Girls of Distinction. A shudder runs through her as she recalls the woman who stepped out of Priscilla Ponceroy’s room the night Priscilla’s hair was shorn off. She never told anyone what she saw that night, it was simply too bizarre, she figured no one would ever believe her.

“Penny for your thoughts,” says James, snapping her back to the present.

“Oh! I was just remembering my time at The Aviary,” she spits out.

“Ah, yes, I forgot you were once a Girl of Distinction,” he laughs. Farfalla giggles and turns to look at James’ profile as he navigates through city traffic. 

Finally, they pull up to Paloma’s apartment building. The tall structure reaches into the sky and Farfalla has to crane her neck to see the sun. “I don’t know how she lives here, so far away from the grass and flowers, even the trees grow far below her apartment. I don’t think the birds even fly that high!” she shakes her head.

“To each their own, my darling,” says James, circling her waist with his arm and planting a kiss on top of her head.

They enter the building and are greeted by the young man sitting behind the front desk. “Welcome back!” he says, recognizing them right away. He holds up a finger “I have something for you, young lady!” he adds winking at Elisabeth. He opens a drawer and pulls out a small cat figurine. “This belonged to my little sister, but she outgrew it and I thought perhaps you would enjoy it. His name is Peanut, by the way,” he explains, handing the toy to an enamoured Elisabeth.

“Peanut!” she says, turning the toy over in her hands. 

“What do you say?” prods Farfalla.

“Fank you!” replies Elisabeth enthusiastically. 

“You’re most welcome,” says the young man. “Will you be needing help with your bags?” he asks, turning to James and Farfalla.

“That’s very kind, but no, we just have the one suitcase,” replies Farfalla.

They gather their things and head up the elevator. Elisabeth shouts “Wheeeeee!” as the contraption starts making its way up to the 15th floor. Farfalla can feel her stomach heaving, she does not enjoy elevator rides

“Welcome!” says Paloma, swinging the door open. She has recently been promoted at the department store where she works and with her new salary is able to afford a rather nice apartment. Tall windows look out at the building across the street and let in a moderate amount of sun. A chandelier hanging from the ceiling of the living room compensates for the lack of natural light. “How’s my Lissie!” she says, stretching her arms out to catch Elisabeth and lifting her into the air. “I’ve made us pasta primavera for lunch, it should be ready in just a few minutes,” she adds, turning to James and Farfalla.

They give Elisabeth a quick snack then get her settled into the guest room for a nap. Farfalla looks around the room as she unpacks Elisabeth’s bag, and notes that Paloma has added a bookshelf filled with children’s books and stuffed animals, and has hung a butterfly mobile from the ceiling and placed some brightly coloured paintings on the walls. The room is absolutely charming, and Farfalla smiles warmly at the care and love Paloma has put into it. Elisabeth falls asleep almost immediately, tuckered out from the long drive. James and Farfalla join Paloma in the dining room for lunch, then they retreat to the sitting room to talk about their upcoming trip.

“Our boat leaves Saturday, and we should arrive in Scotland around the 29th if all goes well. Then we take a train through Scotland to the coast and a ferry to Skye. James has organized transportation by car to get from the ferry to Carnifex House,” explains Farfalla between sips of tea and bites of her biscuit.

“That sounds like quite an adventure!” says Paloma, enthralled.

“That’s one word for it,” says James, sounding less than thrilled about the prospect of nearly three weeks of travelling to get to their destination.

“Falla, I was thinking,” interjects Paloma, “if it’s alright with you, James, perhaps the two of us could go out for dinner tonight, like old times,” she says, turning to James for approval.

“Of course, I’ll stay here with Elisabeth,” says James.

“Great! Falla, go put on a pretty dress, I know just the place!” says Paloma excitedly. Farfalla steps away to change and returns a short while later wearing an airy floral dress.

“Have fun my darling,” says James, laying a kiss on her cheek. 

Paloma leads the way down the corridor, down the elevator, waves hastily at the young man behind the front desk and pulls Farfalla out the front door into the hot humid city streets. The walk several blocks to a small café on a side street, clearly this isn’t one of the tourist spots. “Les Ailes Du Ciel” reads a sign above the door. “The Wings in the Sky” says Paloma, translating, “They have the most amazing crostini, and they make a pâté that is simply divine! And wait until you see the pastries, the Mille Feuille is out of this world!” Farfalla smiles as Paloma keeps gushing about types of food she’s never even heard of. 

They sit at a small table on the outdoor patio, a small candle flickering between them. The server brings a series of small white plates with ornately decorated dishes on each. Farfalla isn’t always certain what it is, exactly, she is eating, but every bite is a revelation. “This is my favourite, it’s has goat cheese, honey, and grapes on it!” says Paloma, digging into the small toast on her plate.

“So, how are you feeling about this trip?” she asks, daintily wiping the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

Farfalla takes a deep breath. Up until yesterday evening she was very much looking forward to the trip, but then… “I had the dream again last night,” she says quietly.

Paloma’s hands slowly drop to the table. “Oh Falla, I thought that was over!” she says, her voice filled with sympathy.

“So did I. I hadn’t had that dream since we left Meadow Lane,” replies Farfalla. “Dreaming of water like that when we’re planning to cross the ocean by boat, it just… it’s a little disconcerting,” she says.

“I’m sure it’s just nerves, this is a big trip. Everything will be fine, you’ll see,” says Paloma, reaching across the table to grab both of Farfalla’s hands in hers.

Farfalla smiles at her and takes a deep breath before continuing. “You’re probably right, but just in case, I want you to promise me that if anything should happen to me, to James and I, that you will raise Elisabeth as your own. She’s still very young, she would easily adapt.”

Paloma shakes her head, “No, Falla, I won’t even discuss such a thing. This trip is going to do a world of good for you and James, and you will return in two months’ time rejuvenated and excited for what the future holds, and you’ll bring your beautiful little girl along with you for the ride,” she says, the words spilling from her lips in rapid succession.

Farfalla stares at her quietly for a long while. Finally, Paloma nods. “Of course I will care for Elisabeth, always and forever, as if she were my own. I love that little girl more than anything in the world,” she concedes. Farfalla gives her an understanding nod. She loves Elisabeth more than anything in the world too.

“I have here an éclair for you miss, and for you our world famous Mille Feuille. Bon apetit!” says the server, placing the delicate pastries in front of each of them.

“These are delectable!” exclaims Farfalla, taking a bite of the éclair. 

Paloma cuts into her pastry and places a piece on Farfalla’s plate. “Wait until you try this!”

Farfalla allows herself to get lost in the sweet taste of the icing that tops the layers of custard and pastry. It’s a great escape for her troubled mind. She hasn’t stopped thinking about The Dream since she woke up standing by the side of the road this morning. She keeps replaying the dream from start to finish, triggering emotions at every step; first panic as she sinks deeper under water, then calm when she sees sun shining down on her from above, then the most gut-wrenching, frightening, horrible feeling of all as the dark, empty Nothing sets in.

“We should probably get going, it’s getting quite late,” says Paloma, pulling several bills out of her wallet to pay the server. Farfalla shakes her head to rid herself of her jumbled thoughts and stands up, pulling her shawl over her shoulders to alleviate the sudden chill in the air.

They amble back to the apartment building, but Paloma stops short outside the door to her unit. “What you asked me earlier, about caring for Elisabeth if something happens to you and James. Falla, do you… do you have a premonition that something is going to go wrong? You don’t have to go on this trip, you and James could just move here to the city for a fresh start.” she says.

Farfalla’s breath catches in her throat. She hadn’t allowed the thought to surface - whether her recurring nightmare is a warning of some kind. She looks Paloma in the eye and smiles, “Of course not,” she says. “This will be the grandest adventure of our lives, and we will return in no time. No time at all.”

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 14 – Look to the Skye – in which James and Farfalla make their way to the Isle of Skye to claim Carnifex House.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further,  you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 12 – The Letter – in which an unexpected letter will change the course of James and Farfalla’s lives... forever.

This week's podcast partner is Haunted or Hoax: https://linktr.ee/HauntedorHoax

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 12 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode we were introduced to James and Farfalla’s daughter, Magpie’s great-grandmother, Elisabeth.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 12 – The Letter – in which an unexpected letter will change the course of James and Farfalla’s lives... forever.

Today’s podcast partner is Haunted or Hoax, a proud Boopod Network member. Hosted by Jennifer and Kristen, Haunted or Hoax takes your favorite ghost stories and separates fact from fiction. They also research various lesser-known paranormal stories from around the United States, ensuring they have original content that hasn’t been covered countless times by others. Be sure to check the show notes for a link to the Haunted or Hoax podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

May 2nd, 1932

The letter came today. 

The one that will change everything. 

Everything.

I can only hope that the letter leads us to a new, bright and beautiful life. Elisabeth deserves parents who openly care for one another. She deserves to live in a place where she and her family are not shunned and feared and excluded. She deserves to play with children who will not be frightened of her. She deserves to run through fields of tall grass and watch foxes play and birds fly overhead. She deserves all the most wonderful things that the world has to offer, and I am putting my hopes into the hand-scrawled letters stretching across the page in James’ hand.

~~~~~~

James sits in the rocking chair, a sheet of paper in his trembling hand.

“James? What’s going on?” asks Farfalla, walking in the front door and putting a basket full of blackberries down on the floor.

“Mama!” shouts Elisabeth, racing over to her mother. Farfalla takes Elisabeth in her arms and carries her into the living room. She sets Elisabeth at James’ feet then joins her on the floor. They pass a ball back and forth while Farfalla studies James’ face. She can’t read him very well. She hasn’t been able to read him for several months now. Ever since the incident with the hobby horse, in fact. James has continued to provide and care for her and Elisabeth, but there is a distance between them that wasn’t there before.

“James?” she prods, gently. She glances at the paper in his hand. It is a letter scrawled in ornate cursive handwriting, black ink stretching from edge to edge of the page in a flourish.

James looks down at her and blinks, like he hadn’t realized she and Elisabeth were even in the room. “It’s a letter,” he begins, “from my Uncle George Archibald in Scotland. Well, from his estate. It would seem he has passed away,” says James in a strange, robotic tone.

“Oh James, I’m so sorry. Were you close?” she asks, laying a hand on his knee.

James shakes his head, “That’s the thing, I hardly knew him at all. My father had mentioned him in passing a few times, but I don’t recall ever meeting him.” James pauses here and takes a deep breath. “Farfalla, he’s bequeathed his house to me. An entire property on the Isle of Skye.”

Farfalla’s eyes grow wide. “James, that’s amazing!” she gasps. James looks at her silently for a long while, long enough for Farfalla to begin to feel uncomfortable. “What is it, are you not interested?” she asks.

“I never felt at home when my mother and I lived overseas, I sacrificed my relationship with her because I wanted to return to Pocket, to the place and the people I know… or knew,” he corrects himself. Farfalla feels the sting of his remark. She knows his relationship with her hasn’t been all that he’d hoped. She knows in her heart she has let him down. She decides then and there to make a valiant effort to make it up to him.

“Home is wherever you and I and Elisabeth are, together,” she says, taking his face in her hands. 

“Lissabett!” pipes up Elisabeth, causing them all to laugh and lifting some of the tension in the room for the first time in a very long time.

Farfalla feels relieved as she sees James’ shoulders relax a little. She kisses him softly and moves back to look him in the eye. “Let’s at the very least take a trip to go see the property, it will do us good. We can have Elisabeth stay with my parents or Paloma while we go settle the estate, and if we like it there then the three of us can move. It’ll be a fresh start,” she gives him a knowing gaze. A fresh start is exactly what they all need. She should have done it long ago, but she held onto the hope that Pocket would somehow turn back into the place she once knew and loved. She has finally come to the sad conclusion that this will never be the case.

Elisabeth lets out a loud yawn and rubs her eyes. “I think perhaps it’s someone’s bedtime,” says Farfalla, picking her up off the floor.

“No Mama, no sleep,” mumbles Elisabeth before yawning again.

Farfalla wraps her arms around the little girl. “I’ll read you your favourite book, about the cat in the painting,” she says.

Elisabeth nods, “And Mama sing, sing the wind song,” she says. Farfalla smiles at her, every night Elisabeth asks Farfalla to sing the French lullaby to her as she falls asleep. 

“Yes, my love, then I will sing for you,” she says, disappearing down the dark hallway toward Elisabeth’s bedroom.

“Okay, she’s asleep,” says Farfalla, walking back into the living room some time later. She takes a seat on the sofa across from James, so they are facing each other. “Tell me more about this house, about your family,” she says.

“I only know the stories my father told me. Carnifex House, that’s what they call it, has been in our family for generations. It’s just outside a small town called Pòcaid. There is a caretaker’s cottage on the property as well as a pasture where they raise horses. I think there is a path that leads down to the beach at the very back of the property as well,” he says, staring off in the distance as he tries to recall the few details his father told him about his old family home.

“James, that’s sounds absolutely lovely!” breathes Farfalla. She can already imagine Elisabeth collecting shells on the beach, and ambling around the fields picking wildflowers, or going for horse rides into town.

“I suppose so…” he lets his voice trail, and Farfalla gets the sense that there is something he is not telling her.

“Is that all you remember?” she asks tentatively.

James shakes his head and groans. “There are… stories…” he begins hesitantly. Farfalla leans in even more closely. “My father always said Uncle George Archibald was a… character. He believed whole heartedly that there was a druid witch living in the forest at the edge of their property. He used to say that she would cause people, often children, to vanish. He had a name for her… I can’t recall now.”

Farfalla feels a chill run down her spine. She’s not quite sure if it’s the mention of people accusing someone of being a witch, or the mention of people vanishing that she finds most troubling. “Well, like you said, they’re just stories, and those were different times. I think we should plan a trip to Scotland, it will be good for us,” she says, walking over to the wingback chair he is sitting in and settling down on his lap. James looks surprised at first, then sadness washes over his eyes. It is in that moment that Farfalla realizes a part of her truly does love him. She kisses him then, desperate to erase all the hurt and sadness she has caused. They sit together in silence for a long while, each lost in their thoughts.

“Okay,” James says at last. 

“Yes?” says Farfalla, leaning back to look at him. James smiles at her and nods. Farfalla lets out a quiet squeal so as not to wake Elisabeth. She hops off his lap and stands up. James stands to face and holds her by the waist. They stare into one another’s eyes for a long time, comfortable with the stretch of silence between them. Somehow, they have found their way back to each other. Somehow, in this precise moment, it is like nothing in the past; not Marius, not the people of Pocket, not the horrendous winter of 1925, not druids or witches in the Scottish woods, not even vanishings, could come between them. Somehow, Farfalla has finally found a way to truly make room in her heart for James.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 13 – A Night on the Town – in which Farfalla and James travel to the city to bring Elisabeth to stay with Farfalla’s sister Paloma while they travel.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 11 – Elisabeth, in which we meet James and Farfalla’s daughter, Magpie’s great grandmother, Elisabeth. But things take a dark turn when a relic from the past brings back painful memories for Farfalla.

This week's podcast partner is Horror Roulette: https://horrorroulette.com/

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 11 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode, James Carnifex and Farfalla married.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 11 – Elisabeth, in which we meet James and Farfalla’s daughter, Magpie’s great grandmother, Elisabeth.

Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod Network member Horror Roulette. This podcast takes a unique approach in that topics are chosen by spinning a wheel of random words. You won’t find a more unique format or set of topics than this one! Be sure to check the show notes for a link to the Horror Roulette podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

September 30th, 1931

Carmen Elisabeth Carnifex. 

Such love I feel every time I say her name, like a song rolling off my tongue. I never dreamed love like this was possible, not after losing Marius. James is a wonderful man, and I care for him deeply. He provides for us and treats me with kindness and respect even though I have been shunned by nearly everyone I know. But I don’t love him like I loved Marius. I was beginning to think I would never feel love again, but then…

Elisabeth, as we call her, was born on our first wedding anniversary, about four weeks earlier than expected. I loved her from the moment she let out that first pitiful wail as the midwife carried her to the washtub to clean her up. The midwife placed her in my arms, and I felt the warmth of her tiny body against mine. It reminded me of the Oak Tree, and how I would lean on it and feel its heartbeat. I am her Oak Tree. Her Protector.

James was away on business when Elizabeth was born, so it was just the two of us the first few days. We spent much of our time in bed or in the rocking chair that Papa made and brought to our little house around the corner from Tourtereaux’s Bakery. James purchased the house just before our wedding and we moved in the next day. 

Elisabeth was very fussy at first and cried most hours of the day. I began to feel overwhelmed and thought perhaps I was doing something wrong. I made the special tea that the midwife left to “help recover from childbirth and give the baby strength” in her words, but that didn’t seem to quiet Elisabeth. Finally, one evening as we sat in the rocking chair, I began to sing her an old French lullaby that Audrey Tourtereaux had taught me when we were girls. I hadn’t thought of that song in years but for some reason in a moment of exhausted exasperation it spilled from my throat. “V’la l’bon vent, v’la l’jolie vent…”. Here comes the good wind, here comes the pretty wind. I was about halfway through singing the song before realizing that Elisabeth was finally quiet. I looked down at her, thinking I would find her asleep, but her eyes were wide open, unblinking, fixated on my face. I smiled at her and at last she closed her eyes and went to sleep. From that day forward any time she would be sad or upset I would sit in the rocking chair and sing her the French lullaby and she would calm almost instantly.

About a week after Elisabeth was born James was finally able to come home and meet his daughter. He wept at the sight of her and didn’t dare to touch her for fear her tiny frame couldn’t handle his large, strong hands. Over time he became more comfortable with her, helping to feed and diaper her, but he would always bring her to me when she cried saying, “Sing to her, Falla.”

The past year and a half of motherhood has helped heal my heart. I’ve learned to feel joy again, to smile and laugh, to let go of the anger and animosity that I held onto for so long. The sound of Elisabeth’s laughter in the other room brings a smile to my face in an instant. Watching her take her first steps, or take a bite of birthday cake for the first time, or seeing her eyes light up when James or Paloma, or Mama and Papa show up at the door… all of it, it fills me with love.

~~~~~~

“Lissabit” the blurry word comes from the little girl’s perfectly plump mouth. Her strawberry blonde curls bounce back and forth as she toddles toward James’ outstretched arms.

“Yes, my darling, well done!” he says, grinning with pride. 

Elisabeth’s chubby hands come together in an awkward clap and her giggle echoes around the room.

Farfalla watches from the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel, and relishes the feeling of warmth spreading through her body. 

“Ah, that will be Auntie Paloma!” says Farfalla as a knock on the front door echoes through the small house. “Come in!” she shouts from her perch by the sink.

“I hear today’s a special day!” says Paloma waltzing into the room, her arms overflowing with brightly wrapped boxes and bags.

“What in the world is all of this?!” exclaims Farfalla, catching two packages before they spill to the floor.

“This is what Aunties do, it’s my job to spoil her!” replies Paloma, setting the rest of her load on the dining room table before scurrying over to Elisabeth and lifting her up into the air. “How’s my favourite niece?!” she coos, nuzzling the toddler’s neck and sending her into fits of giggles.

“Your favourite niece is on the move!” says James, walking to the dining room table to help Farfalla stack the packages.

“Are you walking my darling?” Paloma is now nose-to-nose with Elisabeth, who is staring at her with wide blue eyes. 

“Loma.” says Elisabeth suddenly. Everyone in the room stands in stunned silence, unsure whether they heard correctly. “Loma!” Elisabeth says again, this time a little more loudly. She steps back and claps her tiny hands together. 

“Yes, my love, it’s Auntie Paloma!” says Paloma, pulling the child into her arms. Paloma looks to Farfalla, her eyes brimming with tears. “I could not love her more,” she says. 

Farfalla feels an inexplicable pang of… Worry? Envy? She’s not quite sure, but the emotion catches her off guard and she finds it disconcerting.

“Well, dinner will be ready soon, we’d better open these gifts so we have space at the table to sit down and eat,” she says, forcing a smile.

Paloma carries Elisabeth over to the table and places her in the highchair. She hands the child boxes and bags one by one and Elisabeth joyfully pulls at the brightly coloured paper. A myriad of dolls, books, finger paints, and dresses progressively cover the surface of the dining room table. Finally, all the packages have been opened, and James starts collected the bits of paper and empty boxes strewn on the floor.

“You didn’t need to do all this,” says Farfalla, swallowing the hint of disapproval that was about to appear in her voice. 

“You sound like Mama; you’re getting more practical as you get older!” laughs Paloma. Farfalla feels a sting, she isn’t anything like her mother… Is she? “Oh wait! There’s still one more!” shouts Paloma excitedly, snapping Farfalla out of her increasingly foul mood. Paloma races to the front door and steps out. She returns a moment later with a long box balanced awkwardly in her arms. “I almost forgot, my arms were too full earlier, and I left this out on the porch,” she says, lugging the box into the dining room. She opens the flaps and lifts out a hobby horse. From its shiny black lacquered head sprouts a white mane made of yarn.

Farfalla steps back in horror. “Put that thing away,” she says, her sharp tone causing Elisabeth’s face to scrunch up.

“Farfalla, it’s just a hobby horse. Since Elisabeth is walking now, I thought she’d have tremendous fun galloping about-”

“Put it away NOW!” Farfalla can feel her heart racing in her chest and tears springing under her eyelids. Elisabeth is crying now, her loud wailing instantly filling the small kitchen.

“Falla, why don’t you take Elisabeth to her room and settle her down in the rocking chair, you know how she quiets when you sing to her. I think she’s a little tuckered out from all the excitement,” says James. His calm demeanor helps Farfalla come to her senses. She nods and takes Elisabeth into the other room, closing the door behind her.

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea she would be so upset! I don’t understand! I… I…” stutters Paloma once Farfalla has left the room.

James holds the hobby horse up to his eye level. “It looks like Cormorant,” he says simply, his lips squeezing tightly shut. He knows that losing Marius was very hard on Farfalla, but so many years have gone by, he thought for sure that with their family, with Elisabeth, that Farfalla had moved past all the anger and hurt. He certainly never dreamed she would react this way to a toy. “I will get rid of it,” he says, making no attempt to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“I’m so sorry James. The thought didn’t even cross my mind. I would have chosen a different colour if it had. I feel terrible,” says Paloma, laying a hand on James’ shoulder.

“Think nothing of it, you meant well,” he says, turning to face her.

They stand face to face for a long moment. The sound of Farfalla’s voice causes them to startle and take a step back. “She’s asleep now. I think perhaps it’s best if you head back to the city, Paloma,” she says. There is an edge to her voice that they haven’t heard in years, and James feels his heart sink. “I will pack some food for you, for the road,” she adds, walking briskly into the kitchen.

“Falla, I’m so sorry. It didn’t even cross my mind that the horse looked like Cor-” she stops herself as she sees Farfalla’s body go rigid. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles. She walks to the coat tree to grab her sweater and handbag. “You don’t need to pack any food, I’ll be fine. Give Elisabeth a kiss for me and tell her I love her. Goodbye Falla,” she says, letting herself out the door. “Goodbye James.” James nods silently and gives her a sympathetic look.

The door closes softly and James walks back to the dining room table. He collects the dolls and books and stacks them neatly in the corner of the living room with Elisabeth’s other toys. He can hear Farfalla in the kitchen spooning food onto plates. He walks over to her and takes the serving spoon out of her hand. He places it gently on the counter and takes her by the shoulders to turn her around. He wraps his arms around her and feels her body go limp as she gives in to his embrace. She weeps then, she weeps like he has never heard her weep before. His heart sinks as he realizes how much of her heart belongs to Marius, still. He holds her until the wracking sobs slow then stop, then he pulls back a step to look at her. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. He’s not sure if she’s apologizing for her outburst with Paloma, or for being so heartbroken about Marius, but he nods and lays a gentle hand on her cheek.

“You should get some rest, I’ll clean up in here,” he says, turning away from her so she can’t see the devastation in his eyes. He’s always known she loved Marius, but he thought perhaps with the arrival of Elisabeth, and the kindness and love he’s shown her all these years, that he had finally earned a prime place in her heart. There’s no doubt she is entirely devoted to Elisabeth, and she does feel something for him, perhaps gratitude and respect, but finally he must admit to himself, Farfalla’s heart will always belong to Marius.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 12 – The Letter – in which James receives a letter that will change his and Farfalla’s lives forever.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further, you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for all necessary links. 

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 10 – A Wedding After All, in which James and Farfalla marry, but things don’t go quite as planned...

This week's podcast partner is The Grim Cities: https://anchor.fm/thegrimcities

This episode features the song The Wedding Dress originally composed by Cannelle for Fantôme Friday #11 in Season 1. This version has been remixed and remastered by Pink Flamingo Music Productions: youtube.com/channel/UCqt6NSbXlXVl3Ofp8jeV4IQ

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 11 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode, James Carnifex came back into Farfalla’s life and the two fell in love.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 10 – A Wedding After All, in which James and Farfalla marry, but things don’t go quite as planned...

Today’s podcast partner is The Grim Cities. I discovered this podcast by accident, and I’m so glad I did! The Grim Cities covers paranormal stories from the Twin Cities area and beyond, often covering stories even I, who has lived in the Twin Cities for years, hadn’t heard of. Even if you’re not familiar with the area, the podcast is absolutely worthwhile with great research and entertaining delivery. Just check the show notes for a link.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

March 22nd, 1929

Today is my wedding day. 

I never thought I would write those words. After Marius disappeared, the thought of falling in love again or being in a relationship seemed so foreign to me. Impossible. I had accepted the reality of living out my life on my own, quietly, shunned by everyone in town. But life is funny sometimes, it weaves joy and sadness in and out like the creek that flows into Pine River. 

The day James Carnifex came back into town was the happiest day I’d had in a long time. The following day we went for a picnic by the fountain in Brighthaven. I made us some sandwiches and James bought some pastries from Tourtereaux’s Bakery downstairs before we left. We talked and laughed, and I felt freer and happier than I had in years. We saw one another the following day, too. Then he had to travel for business, but upon his return he came to me. We’ve spent nearly every waking moment together ever since. I relish the company. I had unknowingly swallowed my loneliness down so deeply I had all but forgotten about it, but the moment he left on that trip it came roaring back up from the depths of my being and I realized I don’t want to be lonely. I don’t want to be alone.

I spend as much time with James as possible, and it’s lovely, but I’ve surprised myself in that the thing that has brought me the greatest joy, the greatest pleasure, is the look of shock (and, dare I say, horror?) on the faces of every single person in Pocket who turned on me when the silence fell on Meadow Lane. Every person who blamed me, pushed me to the fringes of their community, treated me as a lesser person, as something to be shunned and feared and loathed. Every person who crossed the street when they saw me coming their way, or who pretended I wasn’t there when waiting in line at the store or the post office. I am finding great pleasure in shocking them, perhaps even angering them. Those who don’t think I deserve happiness. I have gone out about town with James again and again, relishing their wide eyed, open mouthed disbelief that someone would be kind to me, perhaps even love me. 

So, naturally, when James asked me to marry him, I said yes.

~~~~~~

“I will,” says Farfalla, her voice echoing in the vast, mostly empty room. She looks up at James and smiles.

“Then, it is my honour to pronounce you husband and wife,” says the officiant, sealing their fates together with a clasp of his hands. With a swish of his robes, he fades to the back of the room, leaving James and Farfalla officially married. They turn to face the hall where Mr. and Mrs. Shearwater, Paloma, Isadora Finch, Isadora’s husband Eric and their daughter Sarah are sitting, immediately causing everyone to hop to their feet and clap with joy. James takes Farfalla’s hand and leads her down the aisle to the door, her sleek white lace dress trailing to the floor. It had been Mrs. Shearwater’s wedding dress originally, and Paloma helped alter it to give it a more modern fit. Farfalla’s hair is covered with a long veil, the top of which is attached to a simple tiara that Isadora gifted her when she found out about Farfalla’s engagement. In her hands Farfalla holds a bouquet of dried hydrangeas, having been unable to come by any live flowers so early in the year.

The group walks out onto the stone steps of the hall facing the Brighthaven Town Square. “Everyone, line up, Eric will take a photo!” says Isadora with excitement. James, Farfalla and Farfalla’s family line up on the stone steps as Isadora’s husband sets up his camera.  

“Isadora, you must be in the photo as well!” shouts Farfalla, gesturing for Isadora to join them on the steps. Isadora grabs Sarah and sets the toddler on her hip as she joins the group. A fortuitous break in the clouds sends delicate rays of sunshine down on the happy couple just as Eric takes their photograph. Farfalla smiles. Everything is going to be just fine.

“Is everyone ready to go?” asks James. The group nods in unison. Their joyful chatter carries over the town square as they walk to their cars.

“Great! We’ll meet you at the diner!” shouts Farfalla over her shoulder as she gets into the car. James closes the door gently behind her then runs around the front of the car to the driver’s seat. They take a moment to catch their breath.

“Can you believe it?” he asks.

“It feels surreal, doesn’t it?” says Farfalla, feeling a childlike giddiness rising in her. She and James had been friends for many years prior to the Carnifex family leaving Pocket, but she never imagined for a moment that she would one day be his wife. Then again, she never imagined that her first love, her true love, would suddenly disappear, and that she would be forced to move away from Meadow Lane, and that the people of Pocket, the town she had lived in her entire life, would turn against her.

“Is everything alright, Falla?” asks James, noting the crease in her brow.

Farfalla shakes her head, ridding herself of the negative thoughts. She reminds herself that today is her wedding day, and she refuses to let anything ruin it. “Yes, everything is great,” she says, taking a hold of his hand. James smiles at her, gives her hand a gentle squeeze, then starts the car and pulls away from the curb. They turn onto the main road and head back towards Pocket. James parks the car on Main Street, just outside Bunting’s General Store, across from The Early Bird diner.

“And now, Mrs. Carnifex, we celebrate!” he says playfully as he grabs Farfalla’s hand and helps her out of the car. Farfalla stands up and grins at James before planting a kiss on his cheek, then they scurry across the street to meet the Shearwaters and Isadora in front of the early bird.

“Eric has gone home with Sarah so we can enjoy our lunch,” says Isadora. “Shall we?” she asks, gesturing toward the door.

Farfalla takes the lead and walks up the short walkway to the restaurant entrance. Just as she is reaching for the door handle Mrs. Kestrel turns the key in the lock. Farfalla stands on the opposite side of the door, a look of confusion on her face. She knocks gently and says, “Mrs. Kestrel, we’re here for lunch to celebrate my wedding.”

Mrs. Kestrel’s eyes narrow and her sharp voice cuts through the glass, “We’re closing due to unforeseen circumstances,” she says. With that, she turns the “open” sign to “closed” and walks away.

Farfalla stands in front of the door, shellshocked. At that precise moment, a thick cloud blows in, covering the sun and sending heavy rain drops pouring from the sky. Farfalla looks up, grateful for the rain that will camouflage her tears. She laughs then, a harsh, bitter sound that sends shivers down Isadora’s spine. 

“Come on, Farfalla, let’s leave,” says Mr. Shearwater, grabbing her by the elbow. James stands on Farfalla’s other side, ready to catch her should she stumble.

“We’ll have lunch tomorrow, I’ll prepare your favourite dishes and we’ll bring them over to your new house,” says Mrs. Shearwater in the most comforting tone she can muster.

“Chin up, Falla,” says Paloma, giving her sister a hug, “this was just back luck, it’ll be all blue skies from here on out!”

Farfalla imagines what a mess she must look like. The bottom of her dress is quickly getting covered in mud, just like when she was a child wading into Mirror Pond. Her veil is soaked and clinging to the sides of her face, and she can feel eye makeup running down her cheeks in black streaks. The people of Pocket have accused her of being a witch for years, and today she looks the part. Farfalla lets out another bitter laugh, then turns to look at the people standing around her. The only five people in the world who treat her with kindness, love, respect. The only people who speak to her, touch her, love her. She notes how their clothes are getting soaked and their wet hair is sticking to their faces as they stay out in the rain trying to comfort her. She should be feeling love for them, gratitude. 

But the only emotion running through her body at this very moment is rage.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 11 – Elisabeth, in which we meet James and Farfalla’s daughter, Magpie’s Great-Grandmother, Elisabeth.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to episodes as well as MP3 downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links. 

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 9 – An Old Friend – in which someone from Farfalla’s past makes a surprise appearance, just when she needs him most.

This week's podcast partner is Shittin' Bricks: linktr.ee/shittinbricks

The Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.com

The Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbell

Author/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.com

Join Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveri

The Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbell

All music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.com

Cannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.music

Official Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/store

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 9 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode, We saw Farfalla become ostracized from the community she had grown up with after the silence at Meadow Lane was discovered.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 9 – An Old Friend – in which someone from Farfalla’s past makes a surprise appearance, just when she needs him most.

Today’s podcast partner is Shittin Bricks, proud members of the Boopod Network who hail from Australia. Kat and Dom lend a hilarious perspective to true crime and the unexplained, you won’t regret giving them a listen. Just check the show notes for a link to their podcast.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

September 27th, 1928

Two years I have spent in seclusion, hiding in my apartment, coming out only to buy food and necessities. I went to visit Papa, Mama and Paloma in the city for a few weeks last summer, and we got together again for the holidays, but that is the extent of my interactions with other people.

The people of Pocket have persisted in their idea that I caused the mysterious silence at Meadow Lane. They seem to think I have some sort of dark powers that could harm them. I have tried over and over to explain to them, tell them: “you know me, you’ve known me for years!”, but none of them will give me the time of day. The only one who remained loyal to me is Isadora Finch, but she met a kind young man, and they now have a small house a couple of towns away. We’ve been corresponding, which is nice, and she recently told me she is expecting a child! The love she has found and the life she enjoys are a stark contrast to my lonely, miserable existence. I could leave Pocket, but where would I go? I have lived here my entire life, this is my home, I refuse to be driven from it.

~~~~~~

Farfalla scurries down the steps of Bunting’s General Store and hurriedly crosses the road. The sound of a loud horn makes her spin around in fright. She hadn’t thought to look for the car and is lucky it didn’t hit her. The car pulls over a few paces ahead and a tall, fair-haired man with broad shoulders steps out. 

“Farfalla?” he asks, his voice full of surprise.

Farfalla stares at him suspiciously, no one has spoken to her in so long. Who could this man be? How does he know her name?  She takes a few tentative steps toward him, and recognition hits her like a splash of cold water. 

“James? James Carnifex?!” she gasps.

“Indeed! Gosh, it’s been years!” he exclaims, opening up his arms for a hug. Farfalla falls into his embrace, at first with apprehension, then melting into the relief of human contact, at long last. Suddenly a terrifying thought occurs to her: He doesn’t know! Once he finds out he’ll shun me like everyone else has. Farfalla quickly takes a step away from James, blinking back the tears that have sprung up in her eyes.

“Well, it’s great to see you,” she says awkwardly, and starts walking back toward her apartment.

“Farfalla, wait!” he calls, running after her. “It’s been so long, I would love to catch up. Would you like to grab some coffee or something?” he asks, catching up to her and taking a gentle hold of her arm.

Farfalla freezes in her tracks, hesitating. After thinking about it for a quick moment she decides she might as well enjoy the company while she can, he’ll be distancing himself from her soon enough. “Sure, why don’t you come up to my apartment, I just bought a fresh canister of coffee at the store,” she says, holding up her shopping bag. 

Farfalla leads the way up the stairs to her apartment and ushers him through the door. She gestures toward the small table in her kitchen, and James takes a seat. She prepares the coffee, remaining focused on her task while she thinks of what to say to James after all these years. Finally, the sound of the dark, fragrant liquid comes from the coffee pot on the stove, and Farfalla pours each a steaming cup. She places a cup and spoon at each of their place settings and carries the cream and sugar set to the table before taking her seat.

“You never said goodbye, before you left,” she begins, immediately regretting opening the conversation by bringing it up. 

James takes the words in stride. “You’re right,” he acknowledges, “If I’m perfectly honest, I was envious of your feelings for Marius. I was young and hurt, and I suppose in a way I wanted to hurt you. That wasn’t fair. Please accept my apology.”

Farfalla bristles slightly at the mention of Marius’ name, but softens as she recalls all the good times she and James had as children. She feels no animosity toward him. “I didn’t realise how you felt, James. I’m sorry that you were hurt, and apology accepted, of course.”

“So, tell me about your life, your family, where are you parents now, and Paloma?” the barrage of questions comes flying at her, making her smile. James hasn’t changed a bit.

Farfalla explains that her parents and Paloma moved to the city, but that she couldn’t bring herself to leave Pocket. She tells him about all the beautiful gardens she has worked on, then takes a deep breath and tells him about the silence at Meadow Lane, and how the people of Pocket turned on her without ever giving her a chance to explain that she has nothing to do with it. James stares at her intently, completely engrossed in her story. Finally, he leans back and lets her last words linger in the air for a moment. 

“I don’t understand this silence thing, how is that possible?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but I do think it’s real. The day we left Meadow Lane I went to the Oak Tree to say goodbye, and there was an eerie quiet there that I can’t quite explain. But James, I swear, I didn’t cause it! It wasn’t me!” she says, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks.

“I believe you,” says James, taking her hands in his. Farfalla feels relief wash over her, at long last someone believes her.

“Enough about me, what about you? Where have you been all these years?” she asks, getting up to grab the coffee pot. She refills both their cups and sets up her coffee maker to prepare a fresh pot.

He then explains that his father passed away shortly after they left Pocket in the winter of 1925. His mother returned to Pocket the following summer, but found only loss and devastation, so they moved overseas where he went to school and got a business degree, but never felt entirely at home. His mother insisted that he never return to Pocket, that it would only bring him hardship and grief. They had countless arguments about it and finally stopped speaking to one another altogether.

“So, are you in town on business then?” asks Farfalla.

James smiles. “I was actually on my way to Brighthaven, I do have business there, but now I think I might like to stay a while.”

Farfalla feels something in her stir, something that has lain dormant for a very long time. Despite her best judgment she finds herself smiling back at James. 

“Well, I should be on my way,” he says. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re most welcome,” says Farfalla, a pang of regret hitting her now that James is preparing to leave.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast tomorrow morning? I could pick you up, we could grab some food to go and make it a picnic,” he adds, standing in the doorway.

Farfalla feels her heart begin to pitter patter. It has been so long since anyone has even acknowledged her existence, let alone treated her with kindness. “I would like that very much,” she says, trying to regain her composure.

“Very well, I will see you tomorrow then,” he replies, closing the door behind him.

Farfalla stands alone in her apartment, listening to James’ footsteps go down the stairs followed by the slam of the door. She watches from the window as he walks to his car. Just before getting in, he looks up at her and waves. In the street she sees Mrs. Kestrel and her daughter casting suspicious glances back and forth between James and Farfalla’s apartment window. Farfalla waves back at James and embraces the sense of vindication she feels when she sees shock register on the two women’s faces. They, and everyone else in town, have made her life miserable. But now she has a chance at happiness again, and she isn’t going to let anyone stop her.

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 10 – A Wedding After All – in which Farfalla and James get married, but things don’t quite go as planned.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. Leaving a rating or a review on your preferred podcast platform is incredibly helpful in helping the podcast gain visibility so others can find and enjoy the story of The Skylark Bell, it’s a quick, easy, and free way to support my work. If you’d like to support me further,  you can also subscribe to Patreon, where you’ll get early access to ad-free episodes as well as digital downloads of my music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! And be sure to follow me on social media for updates, I love to connect with listeners... Just check the show notes for links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.  

In today’s episode we read the chapter 8 – The Silence, in which we learn what sparked the mysterious silence at Meadow Lane.

This week's podcast partner is Mums, Mysteries, and Murder: podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mums-mysteries-murder/id1578866284

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The Skylark Bell is brought to you by: Phaeton Starling Publishing and Things with Wings Productions.

FULL TRANSCRIPT:

Things with Wings Productions presents: Chapter 8 of The Skylark Bell, Skyedive. I am your host, Melissa Oliveri.  

In last week’s episode, Marius vanished in the terrible snowstorm of 1925.

In today’s episode we read the chapter 8 – The Silence, in which we learn what sparked the mysterious silence at Meadow Lane.

Today’s podcast partner is fellow Boopod Network member Mums Mysteries and Murder. If you enjoy true crime with a side of belly laughs then this is the podcast for you! Marti and Effie explore stories from their combined homelands of Australia and Scotland, which almost ensures they’ve covered some cases you haven’t heard before. Be sure to check the show notes for a link to Mums Mysteries and Murder.

Now, it’s time to settle in… grab a blanket, and a warm drink… and let’s get started.

May 3rd, 1925

Everything has changed. 

It’s not just that Marius is gone. The light, the wind, the rain, it has all changed. Normally the lilac and the apple blossoms would be filling the air with their sweet scent at this time of year, but not this year. Normally, the foxes would be playfully hopping out of their burrow, and birds would be singing from the highest tree branches, but not this year. Normally, the grass would be turning green, young leaves would appear at the end of the tree branches, tulips and daffodils would be blooming, but not this year. Normally, I would be happy and joyful, singing and dancing, celebrating spring and getting ready to wed Marius, but not this year. Or any year. I feel no joy, only heartache. 

Of course, Marius was never found, but you knew that already. You know everything. Well, almost everything.

Papa and Mama have decided we should leave Meadow Lane. Perhaps the Carnifex family was right to leave when they did, perhaps we should have done the same. Perhaps Marius would still be here if we had.

I went to the Oak Tree to say goodbye this morning. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet. There was no sound of wind blowing through the branches, no birds chirping, I didn’t even hear my shoe scrape against the thick bark as I climbed to my favourite branch. There was no haunting tune and no heartbeat. Perhaps what Isadora Finch told me, how her people believe everything has a spirit, even rocks and trees, is true. Perhaps, like Marius, the spirit of the Oak Tree is gone. 

I wonder sometimes if, perhaps, my spirit is gone too…

~~~~~~

“Falla, it’s time to go!” Mrs. Shearwater’s voice echoes up the stairs. 

Farfalla is sitting in front of her vanity, staring at herself in the mirror. Her face looks so much older now, sadder. She puts her hand against the cool glass to hide her reflection. Her notebook sits open in front of her, she re-reads her last workds "I wonder sometimes if, perhaps, my spirit is gone, too...". A tear slips down her cheek and lands on the word "spirit", causing it to blur. Farfalla closes the book and shoves it in the drawer of her nightstand. She turns to take one last look at her room, the room where, not so long ago, she was dancing and singing with joy. She feels for the silver chain around her neck, and the feather ring looped onto it. She couldn’t bear to have the ring on her finger as a constant reminder of Marius, but she also couldn’t bear the thought of not having it close, so she slipped it back onto the chain, just like she had the day Marius proposed in the apple orchard.

“Farfalla, it’s time to go!” comes her mother’s voice again, more insistent this time. 

Farfalla is about to leave when she hears the Skylark Bell ring outside her window. The sound is striking, she hasn’t heard the bell ring for weeks. Almost like there hasn’t been any wind to blow it around. If she’s honest with herself, she had all but forgotten about it. She opens the window and carefully removes the bell from its hook. A wave of grief washes through her as she remembers unwrapping Marius’ gift to her. She runs her finger along the Skylark’s wings and circles the vine down to the bell. 

Farfalla reaches under her bed for the decorative feather box that the bell had once been stored in, the one her father originally commissioned Marius to build. She turns the feather key in the lock and lifts the lid off the box. She places the bell inside with great care, then closes the lid, turns the key to lock the box, and slips the key onto the silver chain around her neck, next to the feather ring and tree charm.

Farfalla pushes her area rug off to the side and feels around the floorboards for the plank with the notch in its side. When she and Paloma were children, they discovered a secret compartment under the floor, and used to hide small treasures under there. Then one day Paloma reached in and felt a mouse scurry between her fingers, so they stopped using the secret compartment as a hiding place. Farfalla lifts the board and carefully places the box in the space beneath it. She kisses her fingers and touches them on the top of the box. “I love you, Marius. I will always love you,” she whispers, before easing the plank back into place and pulling the rug back on top. She stands, grabs her travel case, then steps into the hallway and closes her door, for the last time.

Mr. and Mrs. Shearwater have decided to move to the city with Paloma, to Paloma’s delight. Farfalla has chosen to stay behind in Pocket. Audrey Tourtereaux spoke to her parents, and they’ve agreed to let Farfalla live in the small apartment above the bakery for a modest sum. For work, Farfalla has approached several residents in Pocket about dressing their flower beds and window boxes. The Buntings are paying her quite handsomely to decorate the gardens at the general store, and they’ve put up a flyer advertising her services on their community bulletin board. 

Several months go by, and Farfalla is doing quite well for herself. She gets a contract with the library to decorate their planters and front entrance for the fall, and they’ve asked her to put together some decoration ideas for the holiday season as well. She dresses the window boxes on The Early Bird restaurant and the owner, Mrs. Kestrel, is so impressed she asks Farfalla to design the flower beds at her house on the edge of town. Before long most of the flower beds in Pocket are overflowing with beautifully coordinated flowers and plants, all with Farfalla’s signature style. She takes pride in her work and is grateful for the kindness of her fellow townspeople and the trust they’ve placed in her.

After a year of living on her own Farfalla begins to fall into a routine and feels a sense of normalcy return to her life. She regularly joins Audrey Tourtereaux for tea on the patio behind the bakery, and during the summer she attends a few larger gatherings with Isadora Finch, the Starlings, and Willy and Emma Bunting. They reminisce about “the olden days”, always careful to avoid any mention of Marius. Farfalla spends the holidays with Audrey’s family, enjoying their traditional French-Canadian cooking and songs, and for the first time in a long time she feels something akin to joy. 

Winter comes and goes without incident, to the relief of everyone in town, and Farfalla is excited to get started on her springtime projects. She walks down the street, breathing in the scent of the hyacinths, and feels a semblance of happiness. The past year of living independently, forging her own path, staying connected with her friends, earning fair pay for doing a job she enjoys, has brought some comfort to her, and helped heal her heart. Just when it feels like everything is falling into place, talk of “the silence” begins.

At first Farfalla notices a subtle change in the people of Pocket. Hushed whispering that stops suddenly when she enters a room. Sideways glances from people at the diner or the general store. Then come the cancellations; first Mrs. Kestrel cancels Farfalla’s services for both her home and the diner, then a few smaller clients follow suit. Finally, the library informs her they will no longer be needing her services, and lastly Mr. Bunting tells her they can no longer afford to hire her due to budget issues, but his tone indicates this is merely an excuse.

“Audrey, do you have a moment?” she asks one day, spotting Audrey on the sidewalk outside the bakery. They haven’t gotten together for tea since last autumn, but Farfalla chalked it up to the winter months not being conducive to social gatherings on an outdoor patio. Audrey looks around nervously and nods her head, but signals for Farfalla to follow her around the corner to the back of the building. 

“What’s going on?” asks Farfalla, perplexed at her friend’s strange reaction.

“People in town are talking…” begins Audrey, clearly uncomfortable. Farfalla waits patiently for her friend to continue. Audrey lets a long silence hang between them, like she is hoping Farfalla will just drop the subject, before finally continuing. “They’re saying there’s something strange going on at Meadow Lane,” she says at last.

“Meadow Lane? No one has lived there in over a year, what are they saying is going on?” she asks, her heart suddenly skipping a beat.

“Well, Mrs. Kestrel says that last month while her nephew was visiting, he walked up the lane to go climb the big tree but came running back a moment later crying and screaming that he couldn’t hear anymore. Mrs. Kestrel says his mother stepped onto the property to see what he was talking about, and she fainted almost immediately. They packed their things the next day and neither one of them has said a word since,” finishes Audrey, taking a deep breath.

“That’s very strange… it doesn’t even sound possible! But, even if it’s true, why is everyone acting strange around me?” asks Farfalla.

At this Audrey stares down at the ground. “They think you caused the silence.” 

The six short words send Farfalla reeling. “What? Why would they think that?!” she asks, at once feeling horrified, scared, and angry.

“They think you cursed the property after Marius disappeared. They say it’s strange how you prefer to spend your time with plants and animals instead of people. They’re afraid of you,” says Audrey, somberly.

Farfalla is afraid to ask her next question, but she needs to know. “Are you afraid of me too, Audrey?” Farfalla feels her heart sink as she sees her friend turn to look away.

“Audrey, we need your help with these pies!” comes Mrs. Tourtereaux’s voice from the window behind them. 

“I have to go. I’m sorry,” says Audrey, hurrying past Farfalla.

The rumour spreads like wildfire over the course of the next few weeks, and by the time summer comes Farfalla has been completely cut off from everyone in town. She goes about her day quietly, using what little money she has saved up to buy food and supplies from the general store, and keeping to herself in her tiny apartment. She doesn’t dare to go back to Meadow Lane to see what everyone is talking about. She convinces herself that doing so would give credence to their fantasy. But deep down Farfalla knows, the real reason she doesn’t want to go back to Meadow Lane is because she’s afraid the stories might be true. She felt the silence the day she left; it had wrapped itself around the Oak Tree like a blanket. Once again Isadora Finch’s warning had come true, “There will be a long silence,” she had said that day several years ago. 

Never in her wildest dreams did Farfalla think one day the entire town would shut her out and accuse her of being a… Witch? Sorceress? What did they think of her, really? She knows she didn’t do anything to cause the silence, so where did it come from?

Thank you so much for listening.  Join me next week for Chapter 9 – An Old Friend – in which someone from Farfalla’s past reappears just when she needs him most.

The Skylark Bell is brought to you by Phaeton Starling Publishing and features original music by Cannelle. If you are enjoying this story, please consider leaving a rating or a review, they are both greatly appreciated. You can also support my work by subscribing to Patreon or Ko-Fi, where you get early access to ad free episodes as well as digital downloads of the music, artwork, behind the scenes videos and more! You can also find The Skylark Bell exclusive merch on my website, www.theskylarkbell.com. Just check the show notes for all necessary links.

Once again, thank you for listening – I’m Melissa Oliveri, writer, host and producer of The Skylark Bell Podcast.