(Presented as an apology for taking so long with the next “Warbeck Sisters” chapter.)

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The Witch’s Tree was old, and it had seen more than most.  It stood on the hill overlooking the town, and on the night the person who would one day destroy it was conceived, it knew.  It was stuck up on the hill and it couldn’t do anything about it, but it knew.

There were five children conceived within a mile of the Witch’s Tree on that fateful night, and the tree knew that it could be any one of them.  Five different girls started in five different ways.  One through a happy (if a bit routine) moment between a couple who’d been married for ten years.  One through a frightened girl mistreated by somebody she thought she could trust.  One through a pair of old friends meeting for the first time in years and letting their emotions get the better of them.  One through two people meeting for the fist and only time.  And one through a scandal that would break up three marriages and cause outraged gossip for years to come.

To save time, we’ll name them after the vowels:  Amy, Ellen, Irene, Orla and Unity.  Not necessarily in that order.

Amy was told that her parents didn’t have time to explain every little thing to her.  She spent most days in a confused haze, not sure what anything meant or what the right thing to do was on any situation.  The kind of behaviour that would and wouldn’t get her in trouble was a complete mystery.  She couldn’t go on past experience, because it seemed to change depending on the situation.  And she couldn’t use her own judgement because it had become increasingly clear that she didn’t have any to use.

Ellen never considered her mother’s feelings when things went wrong. She was always asking about when she was going to see her dad again, instead of remembering how the collapse of her marriage made her mother feel like a failure and keeping quiet.  She was always asking when dinner was, instead of considering that maybe her mother had had a hard day and needed a bit of time to herself.  You expected better behaviour from the smartest girl in Year One.

Irene’s father had a lot of political beliefs, one of which was that every person had to rely on his or her own efforts.  This meant that he didn’t have to give Irene proper food or clothes if he didn’t feel like it, and that, when a friend of his asked for help moving some boxes around, he immediately volunteered Irene in order to teach her about responsibility.  She threw her back out doing this, but that, too, wasn’t his problem.  And besides, his friend now owed him a favour, so it was all worth it.

Orla’s parents expected big things from her, and gave her the complete works of Charles Dickens for her fifth birthday.  When she didn’t start reading it on her own, they scheduled two hours every afternoon in which they’d supervise her.  When she told them it was too hard, they told her to keep trying.  When she brought picture books home from school, they sent enraged letters to the headteacher.

Unity was less important than her younger sister, and she accepted this.  Her sister succeeded in everything she did and made her parents proud, instead of just sitting there like a useless lump.  Unity was firmly told not to try and claim anything for herself- it was her sister who deserved it.  Unity was OK with this.  There never seemed to be anything to claim.

Each girl learned certain lessons early on in life.  Irene learned to steal and forage and scrabble for what she needed, since it was the only way to get it.  Ellen learned to shut up and keep her feelings to herself.  Orla learned to hide the books she brought home before her parents could get to them.  Unity learned to be seen and not heard, and Amy learned to do exactly as she was told. 

The Witch’s Tree watched it all, with great interest,

Both Unity and Irene were sent away while they were still in primary school, though in Irene’s case it didn’t last long.  Her would-be adoptive parents came back to her father after barely a month, demanding their money back.  The child was a demon from Hell, they said.  Wouldn’t listen to a thing they told her.

Unity was sent to her grandparents’ house in the country, so that her parents could better concentrate on the wonder that was her younger sister.  Unity went uncomplainingly, but was surprised at what an improvement it was.  Her grandparents actually seemed to like having her around.  Obviously Unity knew it was only because they didn’t have her sister around to compare her to, but it was still nice.

Orla had read most of the books in the school library by the time she was seven.  Her parents took the credit for that, which was odd because they’d never wanted her to read any of the books in the school library.  Some people just had short memories.

Ellen’s mother was constantly worrying about her future.  When Ellen piped up with her own ideas about that, she was told to be quiet.  Obviously she wasn’t going to be an astronaut.  This was a serious conversation.

Starting when she was twelve, Amy’s parents searched her room every morning and evening for evidence of drugs.  Amy wasn’t completely sure what drugs looked like, but she expected that one day she’d bring some into her room by mistake.  It seemed like the kind of thing she’d do.

After Unity’s grandfather died, her parents offered to take her back, possibly because her sister’s uninterrupted perfection had got exhausting.  Unity’s grandmother practically laughed in their faces.  She needed Unity around, she told them.  She was the only one who knew how the fuse box worked.

Irene’s father proclaimed her an albatross around his neck.  In some ways, she was quite flattered.

(To be continued)