Authors: Sarah Pinborough
Louis’ in the bathroom and I’m lying on my bed with no energy for the fight, but Tom is full of pent-up anger.
‘You’re just a patronising prick. You’re a bug feeding on all this shit with your smug hymns and your stupid prayers and walking around as if you’re Jesus and if you don’t shut the fuck up I am going to break so many of your teeth you’ll wish they’d already taken you to the sanatorium. You’re a cockroach. A nothing.’ As he rants, he towers over Ashley who shrinks back. It’s the first time I’ve seen him look nervous and I enjoy it.
‘I’m just trying to help,’ Ashley says, cowed. ‘That’s all.’
‘Just shut up,’ Will says wearily. ‘All of you, just shut up. My head hurts.’
He cries before he falls asleep and we can all hear the small, scared sobs coming from under his blankets. The sound makes my eyes sting and my stomach churn. I want to make things better but I can’t, and I hate that I want it to stop so I can stop thinking about the same fate that’s waiting for me in the not-too-distant future. In the end, Louis gets out of his bed and crawls in with Will, whispering to him, telling him a story to distract him.
I can’t wait for their sleeping pills to kick in. I need peace and I need Clara.
The snow had started to thaw in the afternoon but the temperature’s dropped and now it’s turning to hard ice, but still we climb over the wall. We have to. We go as quickly as we can down to the small harbour where we creep silently out onto the jetty. We don’t talk much but we hold hands tightly. We’re both trying to leave the house behind but we can’t. I know she’s thinking about Will because I am, too. About Will and the nurse and Matron and the solid knowledge that everything has changed. We’re trying to concentrate on our escape. Maybe we can’t run from what’s inside us, but we can sure as shit run from here.
We don’t laugh and all my muscles are tight as we carefully lower ourselves into the small rowing boat – practice to see if it will carry us. The wood creaks but holds and it’s like sitting on planks of ice. Clara looks around, back to where the supply boat will dock one night soon.
‘If we untie the rowing boat, we should be able to paddle it over there,’ she says quietly. ‘With our hands if we have to.’
I sniff. ‘And then climb aboard the supply ship and get away.’
‘Yes. If there’s a way up the side. Otherwise we’ll just have to take our chances from the jetty while the truck is up at the house.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I say. I’m shivering, my teeth rattling in my head. Around us the black sea looks like thick oil and the wind cutting across it is harsh. I want the warm, friendly ocean we’ve talked about so much. ‘Get me some hairpins and I’ll break into Matron’s office tomorrow night. Maybe she has the rota for the truck in there.’ It’s only a small bend in the truth. We’re sitting opposite each other to balance the fragile, weary vessel, but I just want to wrap my arms around her. She looks up at the sky.
‘I wish the lights would come again.’
There’s a thin pink haze on the horizon but that’s all. I don’t look at it for long – it makes me think of the streaks down Will’s legs. Will, the nurse and Matron.
‘I keep thinking about the pills,’ I say as we sit in the quiet. ‘Do you think maybe there’s something in them? To make it happen quicker?’
She looks at me. She’s not shivering at all and I wonder how she can be warm. But then I wonder a lot about Clara, the mystery, the mermaid queen.
‘You think so?’ Her voice is higher – hopeful. She worries just the same as me, but she’s better at hiding it.
‘I don’t know. Just wondered.’ After the nurse I wouldn’t be surprised by anything Matron did, and dark as the thought that the pills are making us go Defective more quickly is, it’s also a good thought. For us anyway. We haven’t been taking the pills. Maybe we have years ahead of us, not months.
‘When was the last time a Defective actually changed?’ she asks.
‘I dunno. Hundred years ago? Eighty maybe?’ I have no idea. A long time, anyway. They had the tests when my grandmother was a kid, so it was before that. There were more Defectives back then.
‘I don’t even know what we’re supposed to turn into. Someone at school had an old horror film about them, from before they were banned. I didn’t watch it, though.’
I look out over the inky water. ‘It’s not good, whatever it is. We wouldn’t be ourselves any more.’
‘Maybe we should find an isolated island of our own. Just in case. I don’t want to hurt anyone. And we should have a gun. So when one of us starts to change, the other can take care of it.’
‘Are you saying you’re planning to kill me?’ I try and make a joke of it. I don’t want to think about the throwback genes in our blood.
She smiles softly, light and shadow in the night. ‘I’d kill myself afterwards. Straight away.’
‘Me, too,’ I say. I’m not sure if I mean it, though. I love Clara. I can’t imagine not being with her. But I can’t imagine the endless nothing, either. I wonder if part of the reason I hate Ashley so much is that I can’t share in his fantasy of life-ever-after.
‘We’ll go into the earth.’ she says. ‘And then our atoms will race around the world together, completely free.’
It’s a nice thought, but it’s still not enough to ease my dread. I want to be me. I want to be me for ever and I know I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep my life as long as possible. I’m not sure I could put a gun against my head and pull the trigger. I hate that, because I love Clara with all my heart and I don’t want to feel weak. I don’t want my fear to overrule my feelings for her.
She sniffs. ‘I thought the snow would make everything better.’
‘It did for a day or so. The first day was a good day. A brilliant day.’
‘Poor Will,’ she says.
After a while we climb back up to the jetty and talk about all the things we’re going to do and what we’ll eat and wear and live on when we get away, but tonight it feels hollow. Will is always with us. I feel like I have him at one shoulder and the nurse at the other. We go back to the house and make out for a while in the kitchen, but our touches are desperate – driven by a need to confirm that we’re still alive, and it’s tinged with sadness. Her skin is hot against my cold flesh, though, and it feels good. Clara cries a bit afterwards and I don’t have anything comforting to say to her. It’s shit. It’s all shit. Everything is shit apart from us. Tomorrow night I’m going to find out when that boat is coming.
I don’t think I’m going to sleep but I crash hard for the few hours before we have to get up and don’t even hear the gong. Tom has to shake me awake. Outside the sun is bright and everything glistens as the snow and ice melt. It’s a beautiful day and I stare at it as I get dressed. Eventually, however, I have to turn around.
Louis is helping Will with his clothes and it’s clear things have deteriorated overnight. His legs wobble underneath him. He looks thinner. His eyes are sunk into his face and they scream fear.
‘We’re going to have to help him to breakfast,’ Louis says, looking at me. I wish they didn’t always look at me. I love Will but I don’t want to be near him right now.
‘Sure.’
‘I’m fine.’ Will is trying to do up his shoes but his fingers aren’t cooperating. Louis crouches and does the second one for him. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’
He looks at us then, first Tom, then me and finally Louis, desperately seeking reassurance. Only Louis gives it, fixing a grin onto his face.
‘I know, but you’ve got a bug and we don’t want the nurses prodding and poking you when there’s still some snow out there to play with, and we haven’t finished our chess game.’
I can’t bear to look at them. It makes me ache too much.
At breakfast I have to fight not to shuffle my chair away from them. I know now why the other dorms have all done it before. It’s not callousness; it’s just too painful to watch up close. This isn’t
our
Will. Our Will eats too much and sees the best in everything. Our Will still thinks they’re going to let our parents write to us.
‘I don’t want my eyes to bleed.’
It’s the only thing he says as we force ourselves to eat. He’s staring down at his toast, his shoulders slumped. The words are soft and empty. They scare me more than anything else.
It’s a long, horrible day of rising tension that feels like it’s going to make every sinew in my body snap. I wish the new teachers were here so at least a few hours would be taken up with lessons. We go out into the garden and although the sun is shining the air is still cold. Louis and Eleanor try to keep Will engaged and I think neither of them really believes it’s Will’s turn yet. They’re choosing not to see it and in some ways that makes it all worse. It means there’s three of them to worry about.
‘You all right?’ Jake has strolled over and sat down alongside me on the other swing. I think about the bets me and Louis had on Joe being next. Joe and Daniel are kicking a ball around in the slush. They both look perfectly healthy.
I nod. ‘I guess we couldn’t keep up our lucky streak for ever.’
He doesn’t say any more, which is a relief. Whatever peace we’ve made, that’s all changed now. He’s not one of us at the moment. This is a Dorm 4 thing and we’re closing ranks.
Will coughs up blood in the afternoon and that’s when we all – even Louis and Eleanor – know it’s over. All we’re doing is waiting now. It’s a bright-red patch in the melting snow and me and Clara quickly mush it over with our feet. Will grabs my hand, holding on like a much younger child would as he stares mournfully at the ground.
‘I don’t want to go to the sanatorium. Not on my own.’ He’s crying again. ‘I just want to go home. Will you ask them if I can go home? Don’t let them take me up there. Please don’t.’
We lead him inside to rinse the blood from his mouth and then up to the dorm, shutting even Louis and Eleanor out. He begs us not to leave him and we promise we won’t. Eventually he falls asleep while Clara and I sit and watch him as the minutes tick away and his breath hitches. He’s fading in front of us. Not fast enough to escape the dread, but fading all the same. We hold hands and her warm fingers are tight against mine.
‘He can’t go to the sanatorium,’ she says, eventually. ‘We can’t let that happen. He’s so scared of it. He’s so young.’
‘Maybe they won’t take him tonight. I don’t think they’ve noticed yet.’ We are far more aware of the changes in each other than the nurses. Or perhaps they just
know
when it’s the right time. We don’t really have a clue what they do up there. Maybe they let it go further before they finish us to see what happens or do experiments. Use our bodies to try and find a way to eradicate it entirely. Not that it makes any difference. It’s death either way in one form or another.
‘We should give him a last adventure. A brilliant night,’ she says. ‘We should take him to the cave. He’ll think it’s wonderful.’ She sounds sad but her words run deeper. There’s something else in them, something I don’t quite understand.
‘He wouldn’t be afraid there,’ she says. ‘I don’t want him to be afraid.’
I look at her then. I look at her for a long time figuring out what she means, and then we make our plans. When Will’s eyes finally open and he starts crying again, low, quiet sobs, I know it’s the right thing to do. I hope it’s the right thing.
I don’t need to wake him up when the house is silent. He’s awake and ready. As soon as we told him we had a secret to share and not to take his vitamin or tell anyone – not even Louis – his mood had lifted slightly, some of the old sparkle returning to his eyes. He’d grinned at us over tea as we helped him in, and even Louis looked relieved. He was hoping Will was getting better like Joe had. Maybe it was just a nasty bug after all.
‘Where are we going?’ Will whispers.
‘It’s a special surprise.’ I help him with his shoes and let him lean on me as we go downstairs, the floorboards staying quiet for us. I’m going to have to carry him some of the way, I think.
‘Is this why you sleep all day? Are you awake all night?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ In the gloom he’s so pale. ‘About the pills.’ He sounds hurt. ‘Why did you keep it a secret?’
‘I dunno. Scared I’d get caught if everyone knew.’ It’s the truth as it stands now. I can’t tell him that at first I just wanted to be free of them all, and the house, for a while. ‘I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Clara. She made her mind up not to take them all by herself.’
He nods and sniffs. I assume he’s fine with that. Will doesn’t bear grudges. He thinks the best of people.
Clara is waiting at the bottom of the stairs with two flasks tucked into her bag and a blanket slung over her shoulder. Will grins at her as I help him down the last few steps. She hands me two of Harriet’s thick, sensible hairpins.
‘We’ll need the back-gate key,’ she whispers. ‘I’ll take Will – maybe we’ll make some sandwiches? She smiles at him before looking back to me. ‘We’ll see you in the kitchen. You sure the key’s in there?’
I nod. I’ve told her that I overheard one of the nurses talking about the key rack once. It’s a lie, but I couldn’t tell her I’d seen all the keys hanging on the wall when I had my blood retested. I can’t tell her any of that.
I’m left alone staring at Matron’s office door and after a deep breath I poke the wires in like Jake taught me and try to stop my hands trembling. Sweat makes my fingertips slippery, but I concentrate hard and after a few near misses, I hear the clicks. There’s no going back now. I open the door hesitantly, half-expecting an alarm to sound and lights to flash, but there’s nothing. Just still silence and my own ragged breathing.
I look into the gloom, terrified I’m going to see the dark shape of Matron sitting behind her desk, all sharp teeth and monstrous shining eyes, but the chair is empty. It’s just an ordinary room. After quietly closing the door, I creep across and flick on the desk light, squinting in the brightness before hurrying to the key rack and searching the labels for the right one. It’s an old key, long and silver with a looped circle at the end as if it should lead to some magical place or open a treasure box. It’s cold in my hand and my head buzzes and I feel sick just looking at it. When I bring it back everything will have changed.
I put it in my pocket and quickly scan the rotas on the wall but can’t see anything about the boat, and for a moment I panic, my eyes running over names and times that don’t really make any sense to me, and then I glance at the wall calendar. My heart races as I fix on one word, carefully written in blue marker in the box of Thursday the tenth –
Delivery
.
Realisation dawns on me that I have no idea what day it is. I look for a reference point, my mind racing, and then I see it. ‘
Teachers
’. The day the teachers left. I count forward from there. It’s Saturday today. Tomorrow more teachers arrive, according to the calendar, and the boat comes one week tonight. My heart races again. The boat is coming sooner than we thought. After tonight I’m going to want to be as far away from here as possible. Somewhere we can put all of this behind us.
I turn and reach for the desk-lamp switch again and then I see it. A sheet of paper with my name and Louis’ on it, typed in capitals. My hands shake as I pick it up, scanning the writing there, trying to make sense of the medical jargon filling the page. Only when I reach the final short paragraph do I understand. I read it three times, staring at the words and half-expecting them to change as I read. I can’t breathe. I don’t know how to feel. I can’t actually believe what I’m seeing.
Clara and Will and the cave and the key are waiting for me, so I take the sheet and photocopy it, flinching at the delay as the machine warms up, and then at the noise, and finally I put the original back where I found it. The copy is warm as I hastily fold and pocket it. My brain screams too many thoughts at me. Me and Clara. Me and Louis. All the others. The boat. Escape. I want to sit down and get my breath back but there’s no time. Not yet.
Tonight first
, I think as I switch off the light and fumble my way back out into the hallway in the dark. The paper in my pocket hasn’t changed that. I have to get through tonight first.
They’re ready and by the kitchen window, Will so small even in his thick jumper and coat. Clara has put two pairs of socks on his hands to keep them warm. His eyes are shining, though, as we help him carefully out into the frosty air. The clear sky has made for a cold night, but he doesn’t appear to mind. He gasps as we open the gate which thankfully doesn’t squeak or squeal half as much as I’d expected it to, and seeing his joy reminds me of the sense of freedom I felt the first time me and Clara climbed the wall. How alive I felt, for the first time since arriving at the house.
It’s a slow journey down to the beach. Will’s walk is barely more than a shuffle and every few metres one of his legs buckles a bit, but he’s determined to keep going without a piggyback.
‘The sea!’ he says as we stand at the top of the jagged path, the wind beating at our faces. ‘Look at it!’
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Clara smiles. The dark surface winks and sparkles at us with reflected starlight. Will nods, his face glowing with his grin. He’s forgotten the blood. He’s forgotten what’s happening. He’s totally in the moment of this adventure.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘There’s more.’ We carefully pick our way down, going slowly even though me and Clara know the way so well we could run with our eyes shut and still be safe. We guide Will, telling him where to put his feet and where to avoid, but holding him tightly enough that we know he’s not going to fall.
He’s panting by the time we reach the shingle and there’s a horrible liquid rattle in his breathing but he doesn’t appear to notice. I’m glad we brought him out tonight. The nurses will come for him tomorrow, I’m sure of it.
‘The wind is crazy!’ he calls at me, his eyes streaming. My nose is running and I nod back and we laugh at how insane it is to be battered and pushed this way and that by Mother Nature.
‘Let’s get to the cave.’
It feels a little like home now, this rocky secret room that has been just mine and Clara’s, and as she lights the stub of the candle, I sit Will down on the rocks by the entrance and wrap the blanket around his shoulders. I can see in his face that he’s a little overwhelmed by it all. In awe. It makes me proud, even though the cave really isn’t ours at all.
‘What do you do down here all night?’ Will asks. ‘Look at the sea?’
Clara glances at me and her mouth twitches. Will’s so young he doesn’t even think about us making out. Not in any real way. That’s all part of a future he’s been robbed of.
‘Just stuff,’ she says, unwrapping his sandwiches. They’re small triangles and she’s cut the crusts off to make them easier for him to eat. They look like something from a posh tea party. Probably the sort that featured a lot in Clara’s
before
. ‘We talk. We look at the sea. Toby tells me about the mermaids.’
‘What mermaids?’ He takes a small nibble from the edge of the bread but struggles to chew it.
‘They live in the depths of the sea,’ Clara says. ‘And sometimes they come up to the water’s edge to imagine what it’s like to be human and walk on the land. Only at night, though. They stay so they can watch the sunrise and then the tide comes in and carries them back out into the water.’ Will stares at her. Her voice is soft and beautiful. I’m afraid that I might cry while watching them. I can’t let that happen. I don’t remember crying much
before
. Not since I was a little kid. I think it’s the report on me and Louis that’s making me want to cry the most. It’s unlocked something inside me. My brain and heart are stretching in too many directions on this dark night. My throat aches and tightens. I force myself to eat, my jaw chewing on cold bread that only makes my mouth drier. I want something to drink but it isn’t time for that yet.
‘This is a mermaid’s cave,’ Clara continues, one arm round Will, ‘and you’re sitting on a mermaid’s seat.’
‘Mermaid’s aren’t real.’ He’s smiling, though. He shrugs. ‘But it’s a nice story.’
‘Oh, they
so
are. And you know what?’
‘What?’
It’s then that I see it. The first glow of green on the horizon as it licks upwards in neon strands. My eyes widen and my food and my tears are forgotten. The lights are coming back. It’s perfect. It couldn’t be more perfect. We wanted to give Will a brilliant night and the sky is our ally, offering us this gift.