Beauty Sleep

by Kathryn Evans

  One way or another, she’d lied about Alfie, manipulated me – or tried to. We were crossing the drive to the car now and I still didn’t know how to stop all this. Panic bloomed in my chest. Miss Lilly kissed me goodbye and with a firm hand, eased me into the back seat and shut the door. I heard the locks click down. I was trapped. I felt like I was going to faint, I was breathing so hard and fast.

  The car crunched along the gravel, telling me to strap myself in.

  No.

  I couldn’t go. I had to look for Alfie, whatever it took. “Stop the car!” I shouted.

  The driver turned in his seat, letting the car drive itself. “Sorry, love, no can do. Instructions are to take you straight back to school.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” I said, trying the door.

  “No point. They warned me you’re an escape artist. There’s a sick bag in the back of the seat.”

  I was pulling at the door as the driver said, “What the…!”

  I looked up just as Stacey stepped in front of the car.

  We should never have hit her. The cars of the future had sensors that were meant to prevent a collision, but the driver’s instinct took over. He grabbed the wheel to take control and swung the car sideways. Instead of avoiding her, it clipped Stacey’s side. I saw her buckle and drop as we went the other way into a tree. Air cushions deployed, the bonnet crumpled and when I looked back, Stacey was sprawled across the drive.

  An avalanche of icy shock spread from my skull to my feet.

  The driver was just as stunned. He stared at his own hands gripping the wheel. Everything was silent, like we were in a bubble. I shook my head, forced myself to move and tried the door – it was still locked.

  “Open the door! She needs help!” I said.

  The driver didn’t move. I grabbed his shoulder. He turned slowly and blinked.

  “Let me out of the car!”

  He didn’t respond. I reached over him, fumbling at the stupid dashboard that had not a single recognizable knob or button on it.

  “My friend is hurt. UNLOCK THE CAR!” I screamed in his face and finally he pressed a palm to the centre of the steering wheel and the car unlocked. I scrambled out and flung myself on the ground next to Stacey.

  “Stace, Stacey, oh my God, Stacey!”

  She gazed blankly at the sky; a small pool of blood darkened the gravel behind her head. I didn’t know what to do. I looked around desperately. The old man from the gatehouse was shuffling as fast as he could up the track.

  I yelled, “Get help! Call an ambulance!”

  Someone in the clinic must have seen the accident because two nurses were running towards us. Instead of relief, I panicked. I wasn’t sure who I could trust. A police car turned into the drive. I barely had time to question how they’d got there so fast before two officers were kneeling by Stacey’s side.

  I whispered, “Please be okay.”

  One of the officers stood up and I grabbed her arm. “Don’t leave her here. Don’t let them take her into the clinic.”

  “An ambulance is on its way. She’ll be going to Worthing General, they’ll look after her.”

  My breath was ragged. “Promise me? There’s something not right here. I don’t know what but…”

  She nodded and said, “We had an anonymous call saying there’d been a break-in and someone had been injured. Don’t worry, we’ll be checking it out.”

  Who had called? Maybe Stacey, knowing that she was going to do something drastic? It didn’t matter – I was wasting time, this was my chance.

  The old man from the gate nodded towards Stacey. “That’s Stacey Flowers. There’s an injunction to keep her away from here.”

  The policewoman turned her attention to him and said something about calling it in and checking the injunction, but I didn’t have time to wait for them to investigate Stacey. I had to get back inside. I ran to the clinic.

  I fished the key card out of my bra and pressed it against the door pad. It didn’t work. I threw it on the floor. Frustration sent pulses of anger zipping through me. I looked at my thumb where the cut had healed so quickly and I looked at the window next to the door and, with a sharp breath in, I punched my fist right through it. Glass crashed to the floor and an alarm ripped through the air as pain sent shockwaves up my arm. I pulled my hand into my stomach, blood dripping from my knuckles. I glanced back – one of the police officers had seen what I’d done and had started running towards me. At almost the exact same time, Miss Lilly appeared behind the door, staring at me with her mouth open. “Laura! Have you gone mad?”

  I dived through the window, breaking the rest of it as I went; splinters of glass tore chunks from my skin. There was blood everywhere. I yanked some of the bigger shards out, flinging them aside. I stood square in front of Miss Lilly, rage powering my determination. “Where’s my brother? Where’s Alfie?”

  Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

  “Fine, I’ll find him myself.”

  She glanced over my shoulder and I knew there was a police officer right on my heels. Miss Lilly tried to block my way and keep me out but I spun past her.

  I got lost again – so many doors were blocked. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I kept going and eventually found myself back at the apartment. I rang the bell. Miraculously, Annie answered. I shoved past her, pushed her into the corridor and slammed the door to keep her out. I dragged a chair over and jammed it under the handle to stop it being opened. I’d use the lift in the kitchen to get down to the basement.

  My fingers left bloody prints over the wall as I frantically pressed the button, trying to get the lift to respond. It still wasn’t working. I cried out, “I just want to call the stupid lift!”

  “Would you like to call the lift?”

  The room answered me. THE ROOM.

  I yelled, “Yes! Yes, I’d like to call the lift.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lilly. Lift approaching.”

  I barely registered that the lift had mistaken me for my benefactor, I just cried with relief when the door opened: “Take me down.”

  It rumbled its descent and I got ready to dash out as it bumped to a stop. A nurse was standing there when the doors slid open. He turned around, took one look at my bloody clothes and said, “You again? And now you’re covered in blood!”

  “The police are here,” I said. “Whatever you’re doing, it’s over.”

  I don’t know what I expected him to say but he just looked really confused. Over his shoulder, I could see Hedge Boy on a bed, still as death, tubes draining from his eyes, his elbows and God knows where else. I gulped down horrified sobs. Miss Lilly had said they were overproducing some chemical and this process was to extract it – but he looked half-dead now and he’d been fine before. Skinny, but fine. And he’d been so frightened when they’d taken him from the kitchen.

  I had to look for Alfie. I stepped forward but the nurse grabbed my arm. I tried to see the next bed. There was a little kid in it about Alfie’s size. My heart thundered in my chest. The man tried to twist my arm back, but before he could get a decent grip I sank my teeth into his hand and wrenched myself away. I stumbled to the bed, my knees giving way.

  The boy was so tiny, barely a shadow under the white sheet that covered him. His hair was shaved, his skin dry and wrinkled and he had those tubes sticking out from behind his eyes… My hand trembled above his forehead, afraid to touch him but desperate to.

  “Is it you, baby boy?”

  The nurse pulled both my arms back, saying, “Don’t touch him.”

  Tears dripped down my nose. The nurse dragged me away but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the child. It was gloomy in the room, but as I looked at that little boy, his face like a shrunken elf’s, I could see he didn’t have a little mole over his right eye. It wasn’t Alfie. Disappointment crashed through me.

  Arguing voices filtered through the main door of the ward. One of my arms was tugged painfully higher.

  “You can’t go
in there,” Miss Lilly was saying. “There are very sick people here. There are procedures to follow.”

  “A credible source has reported unauthorized activity in this facility. Could you unlock the door, please?”

  “Don’t you dare unlock that door! On the word of a woman who killed my parents? This is an outrage. There’s an injunction against her. You can’t do this!”

  The nurse holding me tightened his grip further, unsure of what was happening. Then the door opened and Miss Lilly and the police officer who’d followed me up the drive were framed in light spilling from the corridor. I opened my mouth but Miss Lilly spoke first. “Laura…”

  I lost my tongue; I scrabbled for words to make the policewoman see that this had to be wrong, whatever this was, and Miss Lilly had to be behind it. Why else would she lie and lie? But no sensible words would come. All I managed was, “That boy, the one on the end, I know him. There was nothing wrong with him and now he’s got needles in his head.”

  Miss Lilly seemed to collect herself a bit.

  “Laura has a traumatic history,” she told the police officer. “You may have heard about it in the news? Laura Henley? Sleeping Beauty? I’m her guardian. I’m afraid we had an argument this morning and now she’s punishing me.”

  She turned to me. “That’s quite enough now, Laura. You are endangering these patients with your behaviour. It’s totally irresponsible.”

  The police officer finally seemed to clock that my arms were being yanked off by the big bully behind me. “Perhaps we could release the young lady?”

  The nurse hesitated but Miss Lilly nodded and he let go. The sudden rush of blood made my fingers throb.

  “Well,” said Miss Lilly, “this room is now going to require a full decontamination. Perhaps we can leave my staff to get on with it.”

  She was so calm it was throwing me off track. Maybe I’d got it wrong? Then I looked down at the child that wasn’t my brother, at the other beds filled with other tiny bodies – any one of them might be Alfie. I struggled for something that would make the police officer listen to me.

  “They’re just children,” I tried. “Why are they on their own down here in the dark? Where are their families? Why aren’t there any pictures, any toys?”

  The police officer’s radio sent out a scorch of static. She said, “They’re trying to get hold of me. Why don’t we all head upstairs. Perhaps if we could just take a look at the paperwork for these patients, we could clear all this up?”

  “Of course,” Miss Lilly said. “Though I do need to be sure Laura is taken care of. She ran away from school last night. I was trying to return her when Miss Flowers flung herself in front of the car Laura was in.”

  The policewoman said, “Understood, and I think the young lady could do with some medical attention.”

  I looked down at my blood-splattered clothes. “It looks worse than it is. I’m fine.”

  “My doctors will sort Laura out,” Miss Lilly said.

  “Until we clear up a few things, I think it’s best if the paramedics do that.”

  I wasn’t leaving that room without searching for Alfie. “I have to check the beds, my brother…”

  Miss Lilly said, “I think you’ve disturbed things down here quite enough.”

  The police officer said, “Perhaps, if she doesn’t touch anything, we could let her look, put her mind at rest.”

  I went from bed to bed. The children seemed to be all different ages, all thin and wizened, all with shaved heads. All tiny except for the last bed. The one with Hedge Boy in it.

  Alfie wasn’t there.

  I had hoped so much and I was crushed. Tears slid down my face. I wanted him so badly. I wanted Mum and Ima. I wanted my old life back. But it was all gone and the new life I had was built on a raft of lies.

  As soon as we were out of the basement, the crackles from the policewoman’s radio turned into voices asking her to report in. She radioed back asking for a medic and saying there were some things she wanted to check. Miss Lilly argued that my own medical team should look after me but the police were having none of it.

  “I’m sure the paramedics can cope with a few cuts and bruises.”

  “You don’t understand. Laura has been through a lot. Her body—”

  The officer cut her off. “If the professionals run up against anything tricky, they can radio for assistance.”

  The policewoman led me back to the ambulance on the drive. On the way out we crunched over the mess of broken glass and splatters of my blood over the floor where I’d broken in with so much determination. Stacey was gone and I felt defeated.

  “Have they taken Stacey to the hospital?” I asked. “Will she be okay?”

  “I should think so, on both counts.”

  I pictured my friend stepping in front of the car, her body jerking backwards as we hit her. What a stupid, overdramatic, absolutely typically Stacey thing to do. My heart lurched. I still might not know what was going on here, but I was finally certain of one thing: she loved me. I knew it.

  “Hand out, Miss.”

  I let them swab away the blood on my hands and waited for the surprise.

  “Oh.”

  They swabbed my arm.

  “How odd. Is this someone else’s blood?”

  I didn’t want to deal with their questions while I had more important things to worry about so I said, “It might have been Stacey’s – she smacked her head.”

  “You’ve no injuries then?”

  I shook my head.

  “We’ll just check your stats before we let you loose.”

  Another policewoman was waiting for me when they’d finished.

  “What will happen?” I said. “What’s going on with those children in the basement?”

  “We’re looking into that. Try not to worry.”

  I was taken back to the apartment kitchen under police supervision.

  “We need to search the hospital for my brother. Somewhere in the basement there are the pods we were frozen in; he might be in there. We should—”

  “Laura, I understand you’re anxious but you need to leave things to us now.”

  “Where’s Miss Lilly? I think she knows more than she’s saying, we—”

  “If there has been anything untoward going on, we need to gather evidence. It would be helpful if you could just wait here.”

  “But the basement, those children—”

  “Laura, you can trust us to do our job.”

  I clamped my jaw shut. Everyone, always, just took over. I’d found my own way here, I’d discovered the people in the basement, and now they expected me to sit here and wait quietly?

  “I could help.”

  “Seriously, Laura, we know what we’re doing. It’s safest for everyone if you let us do our job.”

  But I had to do something. Maybe I could sneak upstairs and search Miss Lilly’s room. I said, “Can I go find my cat? I haven’t seen her this morning.”

  “Okay, but stay in the apartment, please.”

  When I got to the top of the stairs I called, “Batfink!”

  I was only saying it for effect, but then I heard a faint meow in response. I expected her to come tumbling along the corridor but there was no sign of her. I called again.

  “Batfink?”

  I heard another muffled meow back, but she still didn’t appear. I thought I’d better find her in case she’d got stuck somewhere. I checked my room but I couldn’t even hear her in there. I went back into the hallway and followed the sound of meowing to Miss Lilly’s room. The door was open – I went in and called again. Batfink’s meow was definitely louder but I still couldn’t see her. I thought I could hear scratching coming from Miss Lilly’s wardrobe.

  “Batfink?”

  She answered me with a faint cry from behind the door. How had she got in there? I tried the handle. Locked. It was an old-fashioned keyhole. I looked around for a place you might hide a key and then remembered what Mum always did – top of the door frame.
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  I put my hand up and felt the hard metal shape. Miss Lilly had hidden a key right where anyone could find it. Anyone used to twentieth-century security anyway.

  I slid it in the keyhole and it opened with ease.

  The smell of her clothes was intoxicating. My head actually spun. I ran a hand across the familiar jackets and a fresh explosion of scent filled the tiny room. Frantic scratching made me focus.

  “Batfink?”

  Where was she? I pushed through the clothes to get to the back.

  “Laura?” The policewoman had come to find me. “Are you in here? Laura?”

  I stood up sharply, banging my head on the clothes rail. As it bounced up, I heard a click and the entire back wall of the wardrobe swung away from me.

  With a loud meow, Batfink bowled into me.

  “What the…!”

  “Laura?”

  “I’m in here,” I called. “In the wardrobe.”

  I picked up Batfink and peered into the hidden room. I ducked into the tiny space and lights flickered on. The policewoman followed me through.

  “What’s this?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  But I suspected. The room was full of filing cabinets, the kind of thing we had in 1986, the kind of thing no one had any use for now. I put my cat down, pulled open a drawer and picked out a file. On the front it said:

  Subject: Abigail Stone

  Origination: Homeless runaway

  Age on intake: Approx. 13 years

  Project: Cryopreservation

  Outcome: Fail

  I took out another.

  Subject: Ksenia (surname unknown)

  Origination: Child refugee, alone

  Age on intake: Approx. 9 years

  Project: Cryopreservation

  Outcome: Fail

  I was shaking as I pulled out another one and this time I opened it. A photograph of a little girl was paper-clipped to a sheet of information.

  Parents: Father absent, mother drug addict

  Social situation: Weak support

  School: Southwold Primary

  Suitability: Good

  Health: Historic injuries – broken arm, two broken ribs; no vaccines