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/hauntedukpodcastThe Skylark Bell official website - http://www.theskylarkbell.comThe Skylark Bell on Instagram: @theskylarkbellAuthor/Producer: Melissa Oliveri - http://www.melissaoliveri.comJoin Melissa's Patreon for early access to podcast episodes, music downloads, and more: http://www.patreon.com/melissaoliveriThe Skylark Bell on Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/theskylarkbellAll music by Cannelle: http://www.cannellemusic.comCannelle on Instagram: @cannelle.musicOfficial Merch Shops: http://www.melissaoliveri.com/storeThe 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, 1797As 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.  Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/theskylarkbell/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

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