“What do you mean?”
“She broke in a couple of times. Destroyed some equipment. A client sued me for distress caused due to my lack of security. I had to get a restraining order.”
An almost complete story came back to me. Stacey had gone out with this punky kid from the boys’ school. He’d got off with another girl at a party and when Stacey found out, she went mental. Whenever we saw him in town she’d make me follow him, close enough so he’d know we were there, but not so close that he could do anything about it. She’d make silent calls to his house. She even designed a poster of him and scrawled LOVE RAT across his face. We’d printed copies and stuck them up on lamp posts around town.
I saw him one day when I was on my own. He looked so miserable. Even after what he’d done, I felt sorry for him. I told Stace she’d punished him enough and I was getting bored with following him about. She didn’t involve me after that, but I know she kept ringing his house because his mum complained to our school and our whole year group had to listen to an assembly on “appropriate post-break-up behaviour”. Stacey could be pretty relentless in her pursuit of justice.
I was sorry she’d caused Miss Lilly trouble, but I also knew she’d done it for me. My heart ached for her.
“That sounds like Stacey,” I said. “She was pretty fiery when she was upset. She’d be different now though. If she knew I was okay.”
Again, that look flickered across Miss Lilly’s face, as if she was judging how much she could tell me.
“Laura, there were other things. Things I don’t really want to tell you.”
“What things?”
She looked at her hands again and said, “She didn’t always have your best interests at heart. Laura, I don’t want you to feel badly about your friend, but I’m afraid if you contact her…”
“What did she do?”
Miss Lilly hesitated for a moment like she didn’t want to tell me. “The accident your parents were in…” She sighed. “The reason they were in France was to escape the press. At the inquest, it was suggested their minds might not have been on their driving because of all the stress they’d been under. Stress caused by Stacey Flowers selling a horribly embroidered story to the papers – a story about you.”
I stared at her, open-mouthed. No. Fiercely loyal Stacey? It wasn’t possible. She loved Mum and Ima. She’d never do anything to hurt them. Would she? I sifted through the jigsaw pieces of memory that were slowly sliding back into place.
Stacey round ours for dinner, helping with the washing-up, decorating the Christmas tree.
I shook my head.
“I don’t know what her motivation was,” Miss Lilly said. “People do all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. I’m sure it won’t just have been for the money.”
Money? Stacey had sold us out for money? The disbelief must have shown on my face because Miss Lilly went on, “Laura, your parents gave you the greatest gift they could. They wanted you to live. They gave everything to make that possible. Don’t throw it away by letting yourself slide into a black hole. I will do all I can to help you. But you have to try, okay? You have to drink the horrible milkshakes and do the horrible physio…”
I smiled sadly at her. I didn’t know what to say. Everything I’d known. Everyone. It was all dust. Dust and ashes.
“I know you must be feeling lost right now.” Miss Lilly touched my arm. She was gentle, kind, everything I needed her to be. “There is so much for you to adjust to. What happened in your past, and dealing with the present. But I want you to look forward to your future too, the future your parents gifted you. A lot has changed in forty years. Some of it is quite exciting, Laura. In fact, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought you something. Can I go and get it?”
What could I say? She was trying so hard and she was right – Mum and Ima had done everything they could to ensure I’d survive.
I owed it to them, to everyone, to try. I nodded and said, “Yes, thanks. I’d like that.”
I kept running. Too hot in my coat, the carrier bag slicing into the fingers of my good hand while I tried to hang on to Scrag with my stump, curling it under him like a hook. What if it came to a fight? I was so scrawny I’d be useless. Scrag would be better than me. I didn’t want to test that out though, so I kept running, even when my chest screamed for air.
I didn’t slow down till I hit the beach and the crowds. Bert used to say that the loneliest he’d ever felt was in a crowd but, I’ve got to be honest, they have their uses. I mean, I prefer walls, a roof and a door with a lock, but in the absence of that, people make a pretty good defence against the dark arts.
I glanced behind me. I thought I could see the car again, but it couldn’t follow me onto the pebbles so down I went. I was near the pier, where the promenade was too far above the beach to jump down. I headed for the ramp instead. I tried to stay calm – it was a sunny day, lots of families out – no one was going to try anything much in front of hundreds of witnesses. Even if I was only a homeless kid.
I picked my way towards the sea, stepping between coconut-sun-creamed bodies as fast as I could, trying to think what I’d do if he followed me onto the stones. I risked another glance back, but before I even had a chance to focus, I’d walked into someone.
They gripped my arm and said softly, “Oops-a-daisy.”
I held on tighter to Scrag and turned round, hoping it was just some dad I’d teed off by treading on his kid’s towel.
No such luck. It was another man mountain. Not one I recognized but one with exactly the same air of friendly menace as the pig in the car. I tried to run for it, but he gripped my arm harder and said, “Bit rude of you to run off when my friend wanted a nice chat with you.”
He nodded up the beach and I could see the other dude now, arms folded, watching from the promenade.
“Someone we know has been looking for you. You’ve been quite hard to pin down.”
I said nothing.
“Why don’t you come with me now? You can bring your little doggy if you like. Nice and easy, no fuss.”
“Why? I ain’t done nothin’.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true, is it? We heard you helped your friend Bert out quite a lot when he was sick. And sometimes that help wasn’t exactly legal, was it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Although I knew exactly what he was talking about. Bert had smoked a bit of weed to help with the pain when he was ill. But that had been over a year ago. If they were police, why would they bother with me now? Could they be dealers? But Bert had always been so careful to pay his debts.
“And then there’s the new vagrancy laws.”
“What?”
“Haven’t you heard? They’re cleaning up the streets, sunshine. No one wants people like you bringing down the tone of an area.”
“I don’t live on the streets,” I said. “My dad’s over there.”
I pointed at some random stranger down the beach and the idiot turned round to look. I took my chance, yanked my arm free and legged it. Scrag gave a little whimper – I think I was hanging on a bit too tight. I said, “Sorry, feller,” but didn’t stop leaping over bodies on the beach. I didn’t look behind me until I got near the arches beneath the promenade where I couldn’t be seen from above unless you leaned right over. There were little shops all along and a lot of people. I walked fast, melting into the crowd, then headed up and out. I needed to get away, but I didn’t know how or where to go. If I went back to my shed now they might follow me.
I wracked my brains, trying to work out who they were. Had Bert done something I didn’t know about? I walked up a main street – there was a one-way system, so the man in the car wouldn’t be able to follow. I didn’t dare check to see if they were after me on foot. I had to assume they were.
The street was busy with VR gamers and coffee drinkers. There were a few clothes shops and one that sold books.
The bookshop! They had a back door that was quite
often open when it was hot.
I might be able to duck inside and through to the back alley and hopefully lose the pair of them. I walked as quickly as possible without drawing attention to myself. I could see the shop ahead, but it had a great long queue outside.
As I got closer I saw a sign:
Are you still a Belieber? Meet Justin here at an authorized automated signing! First come, first served!
A bunch of over-excited thirty-year-old pop fans blocked my escape.
I gritted my teeth and pushed my way into the shop. “Sorry, sorry, sick dog coming through.”
The queue led to a table where a holo projection of some guy with swept-back hair and too many tattoos looked utterly bored. An autopen printed his signature on whatever was put in front of him. The queuing people were so wrapped up in paying for a computer to pretend it hated them that no one took any notice of me.
I went straight through the second-hand book section and, with relief, saw the back door propped open with a broom. I stepped through and out into their yard. I opened the outside gate, peered up and down the street, then headed off.
I walked for ages, trying to shake off the feeling of being followed by doubling back and weaving a weird trail. I was drenched in sweat and Scrag was panting his head inside out by the time I felt safe enough to go back to my shed.
Safe? What was I thinking? Bert had warned me: people like us were never safe.
When Miss Lilly stepped out of the room, Benjie ventured, “Are you okay?”
I nodded, knowing full well that I’d probably never be okay again. Not really. But also not wanting to upset him – he’d done so much for me. They all had.
Miss Lilly came back in and handed me a neat white box. I took off the lid. Inside was a square of pale pink metal nestled in tissue paper. I stroked a hand over it. Colours swirled together on the surface until they made a face behind what looked like prison bars.
I looked up at everyone, astonished.
The metal square said, “Hello, you are not currently an authorized user.”
I looked again and realized the face behind bars… “It looks like you, Miss Lilly.”
She smiled. “It does, but it can be anyone. It could be one of your mums if you like?”
Despair edged up to swamp me and I grabbed for the thing that had made me feel better. The person.
“No,” I said, “I like it being you.”
She looked so touched, tears shone in her violet eyes, and I felt like I’d done something good. Some small thing to repay her kindness.
“You had computers at school?” she asked.
“Sort of.”
“Well this is a ‘sort of’ computer.”
This did not look like any computer we’d had at school – those had been like giant typewriters you plugged into a television.
“How does it work?” I said.
“Benjie is itching to show you, so I’m going to let him, if that’s okay? Try and have fun, and if there is anything you need, or want, please let one of the team know. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She leaned forward to gently kiss my cheek and her soft smell swept around me. I watched her leave like I was under a spell.
Benjie touched my arm and said, “Ready?”
He swiped his fingers through the bars hovering over the computer and they disintegrated. Then he made a pinching gesture and the face that had sat behind the bars transformed into a tiny, upright Miss Lilly wearing a white coat. Its minuscule mouth said, “Hello, Benjie, welcome back.”
“Hello, Notitia, please map new primary user.”
“Are you sure you want me to map a new primary user? Please touch my hand to confirm.”
Benjie placed his enormous hand on hers and her body split apart in a scattering of colour. It was beautiful. She reformed and said, “Hello, new user. My name is Notitia. Let me take you through the set-up process.”
Benjie whispered, “You have to answer, so it can map your voice.”
“Okay.”
It asked what language I wanted, what time zone, if I required disabled-access functions, then finally if I accepted the terms and conditions. Loads of text scrolled across the space where Notitia had been. I got bored of reading it after the first paragraph so I just said, “Yes.”
The little Miss Lilly said, “That’s it. Now please touch my hand.”
I aimed a finger at her tiny palm and she said, “Mapping biometric detail, please wait. Facial recognition complete. Isolating DNA. New primary user profile complete. Hello, Laura.”
I looked at Benjie. “How does it know my name?”
“It just mapped your DNA. It knows everything about you.”
“DNA?”
He said, “It’s like a code that only belongs to you. Everyone’s DNA is kept on a government database. It’s used on computers so no one can access your account without authorization.”
“But you can.”
“Yes, but only because I’ve already been mapped. You can delete me if you want – I’ll show you how.”
“No, no,” I said. Deleting someone sounded worryingly permanent.
“Where shall we start?” Benjie asked.
I shrugged. Given that I’d paid zero attention in computer studies, I didn’t have a clue.
He said, “Notitia, display Google Earth.”
The tiny computer lady stepped aside and a spinning globe appeared. It was…magical. Benjie squashed it with his hand and an image appeared on top of the metal plate, just like a TV screen.
“Pinpoint Blackhurst Clinic,” he said.
The thing zoomed in through clouds, over countries, to fields and houses, until it was hovering over a large H-shaped building set in a huge park bordered by trees.
“Is that here?” I said, astounded.
Benjie nodded.
“That metal plate has aerial photographs of the whole world?”
“That metal plate is more usually called a slate – and yes, it does. And a lot more besides. Notitia, load –” he paused – “YouTube.”
Notitia said, “What content are you looking for?”
Benjie laughed and said, “Cats. Cats doing crazy things.”
It was, literally, amazing. Like a TV and a library had been smooshed together. Only better. And with more cats.
Cats sleeping in weird places, cats falling off window ledges, grumpy cats, funny cats. And dogs. Thousands of dogs. I lost myself in it. It was so easy to jump from video to video. It was numbing and comforting and Benjie decided to leave me to it.
“I’ll come back later, show you some more things…”
I hardly noticed him leave.
I stumbled on music by accident. I’d said, “Notitia, find more cat videos. I love cats.”
“Do you want me to find the video for ‘The Lovecats’?”
“Yes! Yes, you clever thing, yes!”
My head bobbed along to the music as the video for my favourite ever Cure song plinked its way past a milk bottle falling over, through a gate and up some steps to Robert Smith pretending to be a tiger. I was swept back to Stacey’s front room on a Thursday night – the big box telly showing Top of the Pops, her mum and her sister both smoking up a fog, while we sat on the sofa, sucking Vimto out of bottles.
Stacey used to dress like the wild-haired, black-eyelinered Robert Smith. She had a horrible black-and-white striped mohair jumper, just like his. It got fluff in her eyes all the time – not good when you’re wearing half a chemist’s worth of mascara.
Mariya checked in on me just as the video finished. She leaned over and wiped a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.
“You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, actually, I am. Do you want to see?”
I was watching the flat screen on the slate. I wanted to make it 3D again, so I did what Benjie had done – put my hand over the screen and sort of pulled it up. It did exactly what I’d hoped.
Mariya was impressed. “Wow, you�
��re really getting the hang of it.”
I allowed myself the tiniest smug smile.
When it finished, Mariya said, “Have you heard of a band called Duran Duran? My sister threw an eighties party for her thirtieth, and she had the holo-band – they were incredible.”
Duran Duran. John Taylor, the most beautiful bass player ever to have been born. How had I forgotten him? I’d been in love with him for ever. I said, “Notitia, play ‘Girls on Film’.”
My heart squeezed when John Taylor appeared and then disappeared too quickly. I stopped the video and went back a bit so I could freeze his gorgeous face. It made me smile, remembering how Stacey claimed she hated Duran Duran and their pretty pop but listened to “Planet Earth” with me whenever she came round. We’d lie on the floor of my room reading Smash Hits and I’d drool over John Taylor while she obsessed about The Cure.
The video looped around and played again, a half-naked girl and a sumo wrestler filling the screen.
I smiled. “Ima hated this video. She said it was sexist claptrap.” I was caught off guard by a flood of emotion. “I never saw them play. I always thought, if I ever met John Taylor, we’d have a special connection. He’s probably married or something now.”
I cried. Properly cried like a spoiled kid. It was utterly stupid. I knew John Taylor wouldn’t have felt a special connection with me, that it was just a crush, but it was one more thing I’d lost. In that moment, I’d have given anything to have my dream back, to have Ima roll her eyes at me as I stuck up another poster of Duran Duran on my wall. I wished I had those posters. I wished I had something, anything, that would connect me with my family.
I told Mariya and she said, “But you do. You have your time capsule. It’s ready for you whenever you want to see it.”
As soon as she mentioned it, I remembered packing the box.
Alfie and me, growing weaker all the time, but Mum and Ima making it seem like we were going on holiday.
Alfie saying, “I don’t have to pack Blankie?”
“No.” My heart crumbles. “You want to keep Blankie with you, don’t you?”
Beauty Sleep Page 4
