Beauty Sleep

by Kathryn Evans

  What? She wanted me to go back to the clinic now? I messaged:

  I can’t just go. I’ll try and look when I’m back there next time.

  What did she expect me to do? Run away from school? I was already in trouble up to my ears. I pulled on my braids until my scalp hurt. It was nonsense, all nonsense.

  Another message:

  I think they might be testing stuff on children. Have you noticed anything strange about your skin since they brought you back?

  I froze. My super-fast-healing cuts. How did she know? I hadn’t told anyone. I typed:

  That’s just the body’s response to being frozen. It’s not an experiment.

  She replied:

  Isn’t it? Can you be sure? I don’t know how it all fits together, only that every minute we delay could be putting another child at risk. Experiments have casualties, Lu – you remember the bear bile pictures, from years ago? How would you feel if that was Alfie? How will you feel if you leave it too late to save him?

  She’d got me. The photograph, my weird skin, Stacey’s suspicions… Fear and hope hooked their dual claws deep inside me. Because if there was a chance – a single chance – that she was right and my brother was alive, alive and at risk, then I had to do something. Maybe there wasn’t a bank vault for a small country in the Blackhurst basement. Maybe there was something far more precious down there. I had to know and I could only trust what I saw with my own eyes.

  I checked my watch – it was nearly eight in the evening. No one had been to see me for hours. I guessed they were leaving me to stew on what I’d done. I felt another stab of guilt that I was thinking of betraying the school that had embraced me as one of them. I picked up the pasta-framed picture of my family and kissed Alfie’s face.

  “If you’re still there, I’m coming to find you.”

  I stood up, grim determination overriding every sane thought. I put on my running stuff. No one would question me going out for a run. Actually, they might. Madam Hobbs had told me to wait in my room. I glanced at the window. The drainpipe. I could climb out and go down that way. A wave of panic made me dizzy.

  Just get on with it, girl. Don’t think, just do. My running stuff was meant for summer and it might be cold later. Apart from uniform I didn’t have any warm dark tops, so I stuffed the fluffy onesie in my backpack. My stomach growled. I had to eat before I went – and I needed to lay a false trail. I grabbed a bottle to fill up with water and went to the kitchen to make up some C-plan before I left.

  There were a few girls in the ODR. They looked up when I went in and then looked away. I could see they blamed me for Marsha and why not? It was my fault she was lying in the health centre barely conscious. I drank the milkshake, wiped my hand over my face and said, “I’m going to have an early night. See you tomorrow.”

  There were a few murmurs and sullen head nods.

  Back in my room, I put my bag on my back and stuffed some clothes in my bed to make it look as if I was in it sleeping. I locked my door and opened the window carefully. It was dark but I could just about see down the drainpipe. It seemed like an easy climb. It was gloomy outside and no one seemed to be about. I got on the desk and put my leg over the ledge before I could change my mind. I rattled the drainpipe before I trusted it with my weight. It seemed pretty solid so I eased myself out.

  It was easy. I went down, hand over hand, letting my feet slow me. I was on the ground in seconds. Drippy Issie had been right to worry about intruders.

  I ran along the drive and within moments I was at the gates. I’d forgotten I’d have to climb over them. Not only that, there were headlights coming towards me. I threw myself flat on the grass as tight to the fence as I could. Nettles stung my bare arms and legs as the gates opened, and a car slid through. It was a chance I might not get again. I waited a few seconds and, just before the gates closed, I darted through and ran down the road. No point looking back. If I’d been seen, they’d catch up with me soon enough.

  I ran slowly towards the city lights. When the streets got busier, I hugged the shadows, trying to find my way to the station. I remembered Keisha using her phone to find the Pavilion. I tried to figure out how to use mine to navigate but every two minutes a stupid advert popped up, reminding me that white teeth were a sign of good health. I shoved it in my bag and started to look for road signs instead.

  I nearly turned back half a dozen times. What was I doing? What possible reason had I to doubt Miss Lilly? Why would she lie to me about Alfie? It made no sense.

  And yet…there was just enough doubt to keep me going. Or maybe I was just stubborn and stupid. I was also sick with nerves, and started panicking that I was having a delayed reaction to the tracking virus. At last I saw the curved roof of the station. I held up my head, crossed my fingers that no one would recognize me, and walked in.

  I checked the departures board. I’d only have to wait about ten minutes.

  As I boarded the train, my insides were torn apart by two opposing thoughts – that there was no reason to doubt Miss Lilly, and that there was. Because if there was, it might mean Alfie was still alive. And that’s what was driving me. I wanted that so badly I’d have given anything for it to be true. Even my new life.

  It was chilly on the train. I pulled my onesie on over my running kit. I still thought it was a weird thing for people to wear but it was warm and Marsha said loads of people had them so it couldn’t be that weird. I pictured Marsha’s face when we’d taken this journey earlier and hoped desperately that she was feeling better now. I didn’t want to miss the stop so I sat, hyper alert, watching everything flash by, hoping the tracker virus wouldn’t try and kill me again. When we pulled into the station closest to Blackhurst, I couldn’t get off fast enough.

  The train left, and I was alone in the dusky quiet, my stomach churning with anxiety. All I could hear were night noises – they made me think of Ima. When the Perseids meteor shower had come by, we’d put blankets out and had lain on the grass late into the night watching for shooting stars, just me and her. Ima explained the screeching of an owl or the eerie scream of a vixen, until one of us spotted a white streak in the sky and threw a hand in its direction. “There! Did you see it? Did you?”

  I shivered and adjusted the bag on my shoulders. How had my life come to this? Saturday afternoons listening to the radio with Stacey, lunchtimes at school gathered around the drama studio TV to watch music videos our teacher had taped for us, racing Alfie up and down our street on a space hopper – all gone.

  I gave myself a pep talk. I was a big sister and that meant something. That meant responsibility. I missed my Alfie so much I had a hollow place inside me that nothing else could fill. I’d have done anything to have him back and that hope overrode any last flicker of good sense telling me to turn back.

  I rubbed my face hard with my cold hands, pulled up my hood and got my phone to work out where the clinic was.

  After walking for about ten minutes a huge lorry rumbled towards me and I stepped up the bank into a bramble bush. It snagged at the onesie, and I had to yank myself free. At least the inky colour kept me a bit hidden. It was probably good that it was dark but it was so creepy. The road was creepy. The bushes were creepy. And it didn’t get any less creepy when I saw the barbed-wire fence around the clinic grounds – how had I not noticed that when I was living there?

  When I spotted the little white guardhouse on the drive, I realized I didn’t have a plan for getting into the clinic. I pulled up my rabbit hood and headed towards the gate, hoping I could sneak in or that some genius idea would dawn on me before I got there. The old man on duty was fast asleep, his head nodding on his chest. I ducked under the barrier and crept across the grass towards the building that sat squatly ahead, gleaming in the moonlight. A guard walked around the corner of the building and every ounce of courage I’d summoned deserted me. What was I doing?

  I threw myself behind a straggly shrub that couldn’t have hidden a real rabbit let alone a stupid girl dressed as one. I
forced myself to breathe.

  My phone vibrated in my bag. I pulled it out as quietly as I could. It was Miss Lilly. My heart tripped a bit but I answered it: “Hello.”

  “Laura,” Miss Lilly said, her voice flat. “Someone is coming out to fetch you.” And she hung up.

  I was the worst spy in the world. I barely had time to ask how she knew I was there before a pair of booted feet were standing in front of me. The guard offered me a hand and pulled me up.

  We went straight to the apartment. Annie was waiting for me by the front door. Without a word, she led me to Miss Lilly’s office. She was sitting behind the desk, her hands pressed to her mouth as if in prayer. She wasn’t looking at me, she was staring at the window. It was night outside; the glass made a black mirror reflecting the room back at her. Miss Lilly was deep in thought, and they didn’t look like happy thoughts.

  I felt like a complete fool. I pulled the hood of my onesie down so at least the rabbit ears weren’t flopping over my face. Eventually she turned to me and lowered her hands.

  “Laura.”

  I tried to lick my lips but my mouth opened with a dry suck that sounded like a kiss. I was so not cool.

  She said, “How am I supposed to explain this to the school? On top of your dangerous escapade on the train this afternoon? This is embarrassing for me, Laura. Highly embarrassing.”

  I bit my lip.

  She swung around in her chair, stood up, and walked over to perch on the edge of her desk. She had her sheepskin slippers on. That touch of homeliness made my heart squeeze with guilt. She made it worse by saying, “Why aren’t you happy, Laura?”

  “Sorry?”

  She looked like I’d kicked her. “I’ve done everything. Given you everything I can. Money, gadgets, I’m paying for your school. Haven’t I been kind? Haven’t I done everything possible to give you a good life here? What more can I do?”

  “Nothing. I mean, I’m grateful, I love the school and everything.” I felt like I’d let her down by wanting something more. I could imagine how hurt she’d be if I asked about going down to the basement. She’d told me where Alfie was. I should just trust her.

  The phone rang on her desk. She wrinkled her nose with a this conversation isn’t over look before picking it up.

  “I see. Okay. Yes, well, I don’t think we need any more complications. I’ll come down.”

  She smoothed out her skirt, stepped towards me and cupped her hand around my cheek. She smelled delicious, of lime and blossom and something softer, like baby powder. It was almost…hypnotic…my nose just wanted to follow the smell.

  “I’ll be back shortly. Don’t go anywhere. Please.”

  She left me on my own.

  I replayed the conversation in my head. Why wasn’t I happy? It was a weird thing to ask. I’d lost my whole family. Of course I wasn’t happy. Not deep down inside. I mean, I thought one day I might be okay – I had moments that were really pretty good but…my life had been devastated. No amount of new clothes or new gadgets were going to fix that overnight.

  The longer Miss Lilly was gone, the more uncomfortable I felt about what she’d said. It was like she thought I should forget about my family. Like the new life she’d given me should just replace them. Maybe that’s why Alfie wasn’t ever mentioned in the press, because she wanted me to put him firmly in the past and move on. Maybe she’d done a deal with the journalists like she had over my interview, not to report his time at the clinic – the loss of him – at all.

  Or maybe it was because he hadn’t been lost and he was still here, underneath me somewhere. I could feel the basement under my feet, a vast, unanswered question. A question I had to answer.

  I tried the door. She’d locked me in.

  Why? Did that mean she really was hiding something?

  There was a keypad beside the door. I needed one of those card things that Annie had given me when I first moved into the apartment, but mine was in my room. I checked the desk drawers but they were locked. Stacey had once shown me a little trick to get around that. If you could get at the base of the drawer and push it up at the back, the bolt part can drop down enough to release it. I kneeled down and tried. It took a couple of goes and quite a bit of heaving but, unbelievably, it worked.

  There was only one thing in the drawer. A key card.

  I held it up to the pad and the door clicked open. I scraped my teeth over my bottom lip and opened the door a crack. There was a guard at the end of the corridor – in the apartment, our apartment – a guard. That was weird. Suspiciously weird.

  I didn’t have a pocket so I slid the card into my bra and closed the door quietly. My insides were a horrible stew of worry. I kneeled down to reverse the process of opening the drawer. When I’d got it back into place, I looked around the office. It was so sparse there was nothing in it that might give me a clue as to whether my brother might still be here. Miss Lilly’s desk had a glass insert in the top, which I guessed might be some kind of computer. The logical thing would have been to try and find something on that but computers were still a bit of a mystery to me. I didn’t even know how to switch it on. So what else was there?

  A huge map covered one wall. I ran a hand over it, bumping softly over several large flower pins that, I guessed, marked out all the places Miss Lilly had been. Or maybe all the places where there were Miss Lilly enterprises.

  I wondered if there was another hidden lift in here, like the one in the kitchen. I felt a bit ridiculous even thinking it. Like I was playing at James Bond. Next I’d be expecting bookshelves to spin around, revealing a nuclear bunker. Or a trapdoor that would send me to a crocodile-infested pit and a bitey death. The door opened behind me.

  “Admiring my empire?” Miss Lilly said as she came back in. I could hear the pride in her voice and the germ of an idea took root. I felt bad being so sneaky, but I thought if I could get her to talk about the clinic, maybe I’d pick up some clues or something.

  So I said, “It’s amazing. Do you have clinics in all these places?”

  She crossed the room and stood next to me. “There are only a couple of clinics – Blackhurst and another in California. Most of these are production sites and distribution centres. Impressive though, isn’t it? I wish my parents had lived to see it.”

  “They’d be so proud.”

  A tight, sad smile flashed up and was gone. “Maybe. Look, Laura, what happened to my parents was sad but it hasn’t blighted my life, no more than the loss of your parents should blight yours. I want you to be part of this. More than that, I want us to be a family. You and me. Come and sit down.”

  I followed her to her desk. The room smelled very familiar now she was back. It reminded me of the happy times we’d had together, watching movies and hanging out. Someone knocked on the door and Annie came in with a cup of hot chocolate that she put in front of me.

  Miss Lilly smiled and tipped her head to one side. Her hair gleamed, black and silky.

  “We have a bond, don’t you think, Laura? Look at you, such a poppet in your little rabbit outfit. You’re a survivor, a fighter, just like me. You have real potential to be someone. But your friends…”

  My mouth went dry as unbuttered toast as guilt bubbled to the surface. “Marsha?” I said.

  Miss Lilly laughed. “No, not her. The other one, Stacey. She’s been in touch, hasn’t she?” She slid the hot chocolate closer to me.

  How did she know about Stacey?

  “I can’t tell you who to be friends with, Laura, but I’d hoped…” She looked at the floor and then whispered, “You know what she did.”

  I swallowed. The fire.

  I felt so bad. I wanted to say something comforting, but embarrassingly my stomach grumbled loudly instead. I blushed like the great big idiot I was, sitting there in my stupid onesie with my stomach gurgling like a baby.

  Miss Lilly laughed. It was like a light being turned on. “Oh, Laura. Can’t we leave the past in the past and just move on?” she said, all reasonable loveliness in
the face of my idiocy. “Drink your chocolate – that’ll help with your growly tum.”

  As I drank she said, “Why don’t you stay tonight? I’ll call the school and we’ll get a car organized to take you back in the morning.”

  The warmth of the chocolate, the scent of the room, the promise of a happy future – it was all so lovely and comforting and real. Of course Alfie wasn’t still in the basement, his ashes had been scattered with Mum and Ima. And one day, maybe soon, Miss Lilly would take me to say goodbye.

  “You look wiped out, sweetheart.” Miss Lilly put an arm around my shoulder and said, “Come on, let’s get you up to bed.”

  Batfink was in my room. It was lovely to see her but I was so exhausted and my bed was so comfortable… I sank into the lavender-scented sheets and went out like a light.

  I lost track of time. I lost track of everything. I was forced to open my eyes by the doctor coming back and my imaginary Scrag dissolved into the bright lights of the cell. I swallowed a sob. The doctor was flanked by two armed guards, like they were expecting me to fight. What had I got to fight for? Scrag was gone. I’d never find him. I was warm and dry and not hungry. I was existing and that was all I could hope for.

  Hope.

  What was the point of hope? There was nothing for people like me. No chance, no help, no hope.

  “Follow me, young man,” the doctor said, so I did.

  We took a lift down and I was pushed into a small room with a desk and two chairs.

  “Just a few things and then I can hand you over to my colleagues.”

  A spark of fear ignited against my will. My mind didn’t want to care, but my body had other ideas. It must have shown on my face because the doctor laughed and said, “No, not the guards, my nursing colleagues.”

  “Nursing? I thought this was a prison.”

  He laughed again, not unkindly, and asked me to sign some forms.

  “What are they?” The writing was tiny and close together and my head was too fuzzy for my eyes to focus.