“I’m a big boy.”
“I know, I know you are, but you don’t want Blankie to be lonely in the box, do you?”
Alfie hugging Blankie to his chest, a grey rag that had once been a pale blue, satin-edged blanket.
“I keep it…”
My chest throbbing as I nod.
I couldn’t bear to see my box and I couldn’t bear not to.
I asked Mariya to fetch it.
It felt kind of ceremonial. Benjie, Mariya and Vera came in pushing a trolley. On top of it sat a metal box the size of a small suitcase. It didn’t look right.
“It was cardboard,” I said. “A cardboard box.”
Benjie nodded. “The tape that held it together peeled away, plus we had to sterilize everything.”
“Sterilize?”
“Just a precaution. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. Our immune systems evolve along with germs, a throwback to a twentieth-century bug would not be good. The contents are all there though.”
I looked up at him, his soft brown eyes blanketing me in kindness.
“Will you stay?” I asked.
“Of course.”
I lifted the lid.
On top was a grainy photograph of my family on a windswept beach set in a papier mâché frame. It was decorated with pasta shapes and painted dark blue. I caught my breath. We’d made them together, one for each of us. Alfie was weaker than me, but he’d stuck all of his shapes on, with just a little help from Ima. The pain nearly swallowed me. He hadn’t known what I knew. That the end of everything was coming. I traced the pasta shapes with my fingers, whispering, “I wish you were here.”
A fat tear splashed on the frame, turning the blue paint a different shade. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the building sobs. I stood the picture by my bed. I didn’t want to cry all over it and turn it to mush.
Next was a watch. A Jelly Fish Swatch to be exact. I smiled as I picked it up. It had been a birthday present. I’d wanted it so badly; it was just so cool – clear plastic with all the workings visible and in primary colours. The plastic had gone a bit yellow. I shook it, trying to make it tick, then turned it over. The battery was crusty inside.
Not much chance it would ever work again. I put it on my wrist anyway, feeling a bit more connected to Mum and Ima.
Then there was Scruffy, the teddy I’d had since I was a baby. He was full of holes.
“Sorry about the moths,” Mariya said. “They got in before we transferred everything to the metal case.”
Tiny cubes of foam tumbled from his cheeks and paws.
“Oh, Scruff, you poor old bear.”
I kissed him gently and placed him carefully on my pillow, leaving a crumbly trail of foam on the bed.
Underneath Scruff was my scrapbook. The one I’d remembered sticking an article about Fergie and Prince Andrew in. On the cover was a picture of John Taylor in a wet T-shirt, gazing up from a bright blue pool. My heart beat a little faster. I remembered cutting it out, smoothing it down so carefully and kissing it. I squirmed with embarrassment, but batted away the feeling by flicking through the book.
It was full of pictures of bands I’d loved: Japan, Soft Cell, Wham! I turned another page and there was a cutting about Prince Charles and Lady Di’s wedding and a picture of her in her fairy-tale dress.
I showed Benjie the picture. “Are they King and Queen now?”
He said, “He is. She died.”
I pressed my lips together. She was nothing to do with me, but it felt like another piece of my life torn away. I put the scrapbook down and pulled a cassette from the box: “Stacey and Laura’s Mega-Mix”.
It rattled in its plastic cover and I was taken right back to the afternoon we’d made it, listening to the charts in Stacey’s room – it was so hot we’d had the window wide open, her net curtains blowing softly in and out. Whenever a song came on the radio that we wanted to record, she’d pounced on the tape deck, her backcombed hair flopping slightly to one side where her hairspray had given up in the heat.
Would she really have sold a story about us? Part of me wished I could read what she was supposed to have said. I just didn’t believe she would say bad things about my family. Mum and Ima had practically treated her like another daughter. It made no sense. I threw the tape onto the bed. I wouldn’t need it anyway. I felt like Notitia could probably find me all the music I wanted.
There wasn’t much left in the box. Two copies of Smash Hits – one with David Bowie on, the other missing its front page because I’d stuck it on the scrapbook – and some clothes. A pair of dark blue skintight jeans with white piping down the side, a white boxy T-shirt that said Choose Life in big black letters (I smiled a bit at the irony of that), a pale yellow off-the-shoulder sweatshirt, and a sky-blue cable-knit Benetton jumper. Stacey’s mum had bought that for her, to try and get her out of the horrible mohair sweater. Stacey hated it.
“It makes me look like a dork,” she’d grumbled, and given it to me.
Finally, at the bottom of the box, was a strip of photographs. I remembered getting them done in the booth in Woolworths. Me and Stacey blowing kisses at the camera.
My eyes filled with tears.
That was it. All that was left of my life.
I felt weirdly exposed in front of Benjie, Mariya and Vera. Ashamed, almost, of how pathetic it all was. “Could I have a minute on my own?” I said. “I’m okay. I just need a bit of time.”
Vera nodded. “That’s understandable. I won’t be far if you need to talk.”
Benjie gave me a quick hug, Mariya squeezed my arm gently and they left.
I rummaged through my stuff again. It felt like there should be more. Something from Mum and Ima. A letter that they’d sneaked in my box – like they did when I went away for the first time with school. A card that said they loved me, that even though they weren’t there, I’d be fine. I was flooded with dismay. It was just too little. How was I supposed to start again with a pair of jeans, a couple of jumpers and a few photos? I mean, I had nothing. No money, no exams, nothing. What would happen when I didn’t need to be in the clinic any more? Where would I go? What would I do? How was I going to turn these few scraps of existence into a future worth having?
Mum and Ima had wanted me to live, but how?
I closed my eyes. Tried to still the trembling tears that filled me. And I heard them. Even without a letter, I felt them.
“It’s going to be okay. You’re a fighter, Laura. You can do this.”
Mum and Ima had poured love into me and Alfie. I knew what they’d have written. They didn’t have to put it on paper. The lessons they’d taught me were tattooed across my heart. They would not expect me to give up.
I had to start looking after myself properly. I pulled Stacey’s jumper towards me, thinking getting dressed would be a good place to start. It was a decent plan, but the days of refusing food and physio had taken their toll.
Benjie stuck his head around the door. “Okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Benjie, I’m really hungry. Could I have some C-plan?”
His face broke into a massive smile. “Coming up, madam. Strawberry or banana?”
“Both.”
For the next few days I did everything I was told, and I felt myself growing stronger. Eventually, after a morning session with Vera, I opened my box of things again. I took off the hospital pyjamas and put on my own jeans. They hung like a sack from my hips. They were meant to be tight! I was way too skinny, my boobs had disappeared and you could count my ribs. To think that once I’d been worried I was getting fat; my scrawny body was living proof of how ill I’d been. I wanted to fill it back out and show the world I was mended. At least in body. I pulled on the yellow sweatshirt. It was also huge on me, but it felt good to be in my own clothes.
I was exhausted from the effort, but there was one more thing I wanted to do.
I knew I couldn’t stay in that room for ever. The thought of Benjie turning up one day and telling me I was well
enough to leave the clinic was terrifying enough – the thought of him doing that without me even having stepped into the corridor brought me out in a cold sweat. I wanted to be the one in control of it.
I opened the door and clung to the frame. What would I find? I was forty years in the future. I peered down the corridor. There were no robots. It was just like my room – pale green walls and glossy white floor. There was a window at one end and at the other I could just see the edge of a curved glass desk snaking around a corner. There were two more doors on my side of the corridor, and three opposite. They all stood open.
I took a step out.
Come on, Laura. You can do this. One foot in front of the other.
With a hand on the wall, I walked towards a murmur of voices that came from the direction of the desk. As I passed the first open doorway, I looked in. The room was similar to mine but empty. I lurched a bit past the opening until I made contact with the wall on the other side. The next room was empty too. I was nearly at the desk when Miss Lilly swept around the corner.
“Laura! Look at you, up and dressed. Aren’t you adorable in mufti?” She was beaming with delight and something in me lifted.
I smiled back. “What’s mufti?”
She laughed. “It’s what we called ‘home clothes’ when I was at school.”
“They’re a bit big,” I said, looking down at my outfit.
My heart twisted as I suddenly remembered Mum holding up my black military jacket, asking me if I wanted to pack it in my capsule. Before I’d got ill it had been tight across my shoulders, so I’d shaken my head. I was tired by then, bone-tired, and she was trying so hard not to cry. Ima had taken hold of both our hands, struggling to keep control herself. I’d just wanted it over.
I wished I could tell them I was all right. That they’d saved me.
Miss Lilly put her hand on my shoulder, sensing the dip in my mood. “Hey, come on. You’re doing so well. Chin up.”
I forced a smile.
She carefully took my arm and led me round the corner. Benjie, Edna, Mariya and Vera were standing by the desk, almost as if they were waiting for me. They were all smiling, like an advert for dazzling white teeth. Was straight, white and shining the new normal? I closed my mouth, conscious of my less-than-perfect smile.
Miss Lilly called over to the team. “We’ll catch up later. I’ll walk with Laura to the lounge, if that’s okay?”
Benjie said, “Of course.”
Mariya said, “I could bring tea?”
Miss Lilly said, “Wonderful.”
I felt…safe.
We turned another corner into a bright open space with white leather armchairs and a glass coffee table.
“Let’s sit down, shall we?”
My legs were grateful for the break.
“I’m so glad you’re making progress again, Laura. Is there anything else we can do for you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
She touched my arm gently. “You know, if you ever need someone else to talk to, you could try me? I mean, if you’d find it easier than talking to a professional. Sometimes, what we really need is a friend – don’t you think?”
I didn’t know what to say.
Miss Lilly looked out of the window and went on. “I know how it feels, to lose your family.”
“You lost yours?”
She bit her lip. “Guilt is the worst part, isn’t it? That you’re still alive. That they’re gone when it could so easily have been you.”
I thought of Alfie, who’d barely had a chance to live. And Mum and Ima, who had tried so hard to make things right and now would never know that I was okay.
Guilt. Yes. I’d hardly realized that’s what it was, but muddled in with all the sorrow and the worry was guilt.
“What happened to your family?” I asked.
Miss Lilly opened her mouth to answer but closed it again. Then she said, “Laura, I’ve been thinking. I’m not sure what your plans are when you leave here…”
Little spikes of anxiety prickled my skin. Was she going to tell me I had to go, that my recovery time was up?
I tried to speak, but all that came out was, “I…”
“It’s none of my business, I know, and you barely know me. But I’ve watched over you for so long it’s like you’re a part of my life. A part of the Blackhurst family. I feel responsible for you. Look, there is absolutely no pressure at all to say yes, but I have a huge apartment attached to the clinic here, right next door. When you’re well enough, maybe, if you wanted to, you could stay with me?”
It was so unexpected, I just blurted, “Why?”
She shook her head. “I’m so sorry. What a silly idea. Of course you’ll want your own life. There’ll be family you’ll want to stay with. We must help you find them.”
I shook my head. “No. I didn’t mean that. I don’t even think I have anyone. Mum and Ima’s families didn’t approve of them being together. They sort of cut us off. And I never knew my dad – Mum said he was a friend who’d donated the…you know…necessary. No, what I meant was, why would you do that for me?”
She didn’t get a chance to answer, because Mariya arrived with the tray of tea.
Miss Lilly poured. “Do you have sugar?”
“Erm, I’m not sure.”
“You still have gaps in your memory?”
“Some. They catch me by surprise sometimes – the things I don’t know.”
Something dropped into my mind, bittersweet.
The four of us, Mum, me, Ima and Alfie, having afternoon tea in a posh hotel – tiny cakes and finger sandwiches and sugar in a bowl in crumbly cubes. I beg them to let me stir some into my tea and eventually they relent. I drink the sweet tea and it’s disgusting…
I laughed and said, “Actually, I do remember. No, I don’t have sugar, thanks.”
Miss Lilly handed me a cup. It was the first tea I’d had since I’d been revived. I sipped it and the rich taste warmed my insides.
“There is something I could do for you, whatever you decide about living with me,” Miss Lilly said. “I’m a primary stakeholder in a school. A very good school, the top girls’ school in the country – I used to go there actually.”
“A private school?”
“Yes. They’d be delighted to have you.”
I flushed with shame. “But I don’t have any money.”
“I own the school, Laura. You wouldn’t be expected to pay.”
“I’ll be so behind with everything. I’d embarrass you.”
“You would never do that, and you don’t need to worry; they’d make sure you have all the help you need to catch up.”
The thought of going back to school, without Stacey. A posh school too. I wouldn’t fit in. They’d never accept me. “What about my old…?”
“Your old school? Of course, if that’s what you want. I’m not sure you’d recognize it now though – it’s got very rundown.”
It had been bad enough when I was there.
“I’m sure you’ve lots of happy memories…” Miss Lilly said.
I shuddered as I remembered Kelly Knight. She volunteered for gate duty every day and if Stacey and I were late she would yell, “Come on, you two, lesbi having you.”
Stacey lost it one morning and punched her right in the face. “We’re not lesbians, you stupid cow, and even if we were, at least we’re not dickheads.”
Stacey was suspended from school for a week, but Kelly never said another word about my mums.
Stacey. Stacey. Stacey—
“Laura?” Miss Lilly said. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We could maybe get you tutors instead? It’s a lovely school though, it really is. And you’d have a much better chance of success at a school that has time for your individual needs.”
I knew that. Everyone knew you had a better chance in life if you went to a better school. And I had to build a good life for myself now. I had no one else to help me. Only I did, didn’t
I? Miss Lilly was sitting right next to me, offering me everything. A place to live, a good education. Why was I even hesitating? What other option did I have?
Seriously, what possible reason could I have for saying no? To any of it?
“Can I see it? The school?”
Miss Lilly beamed. “Of course you can. Where’s your slate?”
“I can look at it on my slate?”
“You can look at anything on your slate. On the internet. The World Wide Web? I thought Benjie was going to show you how to use it?”
He’d shown me Google Earth and YouTube. I didn’t know there was more.
“I’ll get it,” I said and stood up too quickly and with no regard for my stupidly weak body. I collapsed onto the tea things, smashing a cup, and sending a sliver of china deep into my thumb.
“Ow! OW!” I pulled it out; blood beaded rapidly in the cut and dripped on the floor.
Miss Lilly leaped to her feet. “Mariya! Mariya!”
“It’s fine,” I said, sucking on it. “I just need a plaster or something.”
Mariya appeared and Miss Lilly snapped, “Laura has hurt herself. Clean it and cover it up.”
Miss Lilly looked panicked. Properly panicked. Like she really, deep-down cared about me.
And I thought maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.
I felt like I had a target on my back. Like, if I didn’t move fast enough, someone was going to grab me. That business on the beach had done my head in. Eventually, I returned to my shed. I didn’t know what else to do. I hung back before going in. When I was as sure as I could be that no one had followed me, I dived though the overcoat of brambles that hid the door.
I wanted to get inside as quick as I could but when your only hand won’t stop trembling, it’s a bit hard to stuff a key in a lock. By the time I got the door open, I’d nearly suffocated myself holding my breath. I relocked it and drew the bolt across.
Scrag went straight for his water and lapped and lapped, splashing it everywhere. He didn’t seem jumpy like he would if someone was sniffing around outside. That calmed me down a bit. I took my coat off and sat next to him, feeling hot and sick. He gave a little yip and nudged at my hand with his wet face.
Beauty Sleep Page 5
