The Mermaid's Revenge

by Amy Cross

Turning, I see that Ms. Harper is in the doorway.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, dropping the notebook back into the drawer before hurrying over to join her. “I'm really sorry.”

  “You don't have to be sorry,” she says, but I squeeze past her and out into the corridor. “Really, Sylvia, what do you think you need to apologize for?”

  I turn to her, and for a moment I can't quite bring myself to ask the question that's on the tip of my tongue. Finally, however, I realize I can't hold back.

  “Where is she?” I ask. “Did someone come and take her away?”

  “We moved her,” she replies. “Someone will come tomorrow, I think.”

  “Where did you move her to?”

  “Somewhere she can be at peace.”

  “But where?”

  “That doesn't matter right now,” she says, pulling the door shut. “We're taking care of it for you.”

  “But -”

  “Mr. Randall wanted me to ask you about something,” she continues, as she leads me along the corridor. “We realized that over the past day or two, you must have talked to your mother quite a bit about the mermaid. We know she talked to Doctor Collier too, but we wondered whether maybe she told you anything that she hadn't told him. I know you and your mother had certain things that you kept between you, but that doesn't apply now, if you think about it. So if you can think of anything she told you, anything that might help us to help the mermaid, now would be a very good time to tell me.”

  She stops and crouches in front of me, so that we're at eye-level.

  “Anything at all,” she adds.

  I hesitate for a moment, thinking about the egg-like things that the mermaid showed me. Last time I kept a secret, something awful happened. At the same time, I feel like the mermaid specifically waited until I was the only one at the glass before she showed me the eggs, and I'm worried that something bad might happen if I tell anyone else.

  “You know you can trust me, don't you?” Ms. Harper says. “You can trust me with anything.”

  I pause for a few more seconds, before realizing that she's right. I can trust her. Mother wouldn't have left me with her, and with Mr. Randall, if she thought they weren't good people.

  “The mermaid showed me something,” I say cautiously. “She showed it to me today. I'm not sure, but I think it might be important.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Everything is so quiet.

  Staring up at the bedroom ceiling, I listen to the faint hum of the air-conditioning, but there's no other noise. The apartment is always quiet, of course, but somehow it seems more quiet right now, as if Mother's absence has placed some kind of blanket over everything.

  After a few seconds, I even realize that I've accidentally been holding my breath.

  I sit up in bed, in the dark, and look over at the window. I usually close my curtains when I go to bed, but this time I got up after Ms. Harper went out of the room and I opened the curtains again. I suppose I want to be like Mother, I want to let the natural sunlight wake me up, but now I'm amazed by the sight of all the lights out there.

  Clambering out of bed, I creep over to the window and peer out, and I see hundreds and hundreds of tower-blocks and skyscrapers rising into the night sky, each filled with lights that burn through the darkness. I've never really thought before about the world out there, and I can only remember going outside two or three times in my entire life. Right now, however, I can't help staring at the lights and wondering what goes on in other places. A moment later I look down and see cars on the London streets, and I try to imagine what the lives of all those people are like.

  I can't.

  I can't imagine it at all.

  It's like I'm looking out at another world.

  After a moment, I place my hand on the window, but all I feel is the flat glass. For the first time, however, I'm not scared as I look at all the lights and all the moving things out there. I'm not even scared when I spot a light moving across the sky. For the first time, I actually start thinking about what it must be like out there. Mother always told me that I wouldn't spend my whole life in this apartment, that one day I'd be ready to go out properly. Now that she's gone, I think that moment might be a lot closer. I'll have to go out there eventually.

  I just always thought that when it happened, she'd come with me.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “So today we're going to talk about some of the books we read last week,” Ms. Harper says as we sit at the table after breakfast. “I want to focus on a few of the main -”

  Suddenly there's the sound of a door opening in the distance, and she immediately turns and looks toward the hallway. She stays completely still, listening to footsteps somewhere, and then the apartment falls silent again. Still, Ms. Harper seems very alert and nervous, and it takes a moment before she turns back to me.

  And then she stares, as if she's forgotten what she was saying.

  “Can I go downstairs and see the mermaid now?” I ask. I feel dumb even saying that word mermaid, but I don't know what else to call her. “Can I? Please?”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “We've got schoolwork to do,” she tells me. “Mr. Randall and I had a big talk, and we thought that today you should try to do normal things as much as possible.”

  “But Mother -”

  “It's not good for you to change your routine, Sylvia. This is a very difficult time for you, you lost your mother, and now we need to -”

  Suddenly she turns again, as if she heard something. This time the apartment stays completely quiet, and she quickly turns to me again.

  “Where were we?” she asks, before looking down at her notes. “Right. Yes. We're going to talk about some of the books we read last week. I want to focus on some themes that we didn't have time to cover.”

  ***

  After flushing the toilet, I wash my hands before unlocking the door and stepping out into the corridor. I immediately smell scrambled eggs being cooked, and toast being toasted, and I can hear Ms. Harper working on lunch in the kitchen. I take a step that way, before stopping and glancing over my shoulder and seeing the elevator at the other end of the corridor.

  I want to see the mermaid.

  Up here in the apartment, I keep thinking about how Mother's gone. Yesterday with the mermaid was the only moment when I actually didn't think about Mother for a few seconds. Maybe it's bad of me, but I want that again, and I feel almost as if something is luring me to go down to the lower level. I know Ms. Harper told me not to go, and I know I should always obey Ms. Harper, but this one time I feel like maybe I should be allowed to do what I want.

  I hesitate for a moment, before starting to make my way toward the elevator door.

  And then, suddenly, I hear Mother in her study.

  Startled, I turn and look over at the half-open door, and I realize I can hear Mother going through her papers. I know that's impossible, but I can't help myself and I rush over, pushing the door open and looking at the desk.

  My heart immediately drops as I see Mr. Randall sitting in Mother's chair.

  “Good morning, Sylvia,” he says calmly, as he sets some documents down. Then he checks his watch. “Or rather, good afternoon. Just.”

  I stare at him for a moment, feeling silly for having been tricked, and then I turn to go back to the kitchen.

  “You're doing very well, Sylvia,” Mr. Randall says, causing me to stop again. “How did you sleep last night? I'm sure it must have been very difficult.”

  I turn to him.

  I don't like him being at Mother's desk.

  “It's your tenth birthday next week, isn't it?” he continues. “We should think about how you're going to celebrate. I know it must seem as if life has stopped, but your mother would want you to celebrate in some way. Obviously there'll be no party, but a quiet celebration here in the apartment would be appropriate. Your mother would want us all to go on living, Sylvia, so you must think about what you want to do on the big day.”


  Staring at him, I still can't think of what to say.

  “What would you like to do?” he asks. “The whole apartment is yours for that day, so think big.”

  “I'd like to see the mermaid,” I tell him.

  “I'm not sure that will be possible,” he replies. “She and Doctor Collier are very busy.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Oh, just some research.”

  I pause for a moment, trying to work out what he means.

  “Is she okay?” I ask.

  “She's very okay. She's in the best possible hands.”

  I pause again.

  “Mother wasn't going to keep her there forever,” I say finally. “She was going to move her somewhere else, or let her go. She wasn't going to keep her in that tank for her whole life.”

  “We haven't decided exactly how she'll be handled.”

  “But Mother -”

  “We're going to take the decision together, once we know all the facts. That's the best way to deal with these things, Sylvia. We can't use emotions to make decisions. We have to use facts.”

  “What does she want?” I ask.

  “What does who want?”

  “The mermaid.”

  “Well, I don't know if she can talk.” He checks his watch again. “Although it would be amazing if she could, wouldn't it? She could tell us lots of stories. Unfortunately, even if she can talk, I doubt it's English that she uses as a language. That would just be too convenient, wouldn't it? So as usual, these things are going to take a lot of time.”

  “But can I see her?”

  “Not right now.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “That's up to Doctor Collier.”

  “You're not hurting her, are you?”

  “Hurting her?” He hesitates, before getting to his feet and coming over to me. He has some of Mother's documents in one hand, and he places the other on my shoulder. “She's the most precious thing in the world right now. The most valuable. Why would anyone ever want to hurt her? We're looking after her, Sylvia, and we're working out what's best for her. We don't want her taken away by other people, do we? They might hurt her. We have to protect her. You understand that, don't you?”

  I pause, before nodding.

  I suppose he makes sense.

  I turn to go back to Ms. Harper.

  “Oh, and Sylvia?”

  I freeze.

  He squeezes my shoulder.

  “Thank you for telling us about what the mermaid showed you. The eggs. I'm really glad that you felt you could trust us. Not every little girl would have been so brave. Your mother would be really proud of you.”

  “Can I go now?” I ask.

  He lets go of my shoulder.

  “Of course you can. You can go anywhere you like. Now go and see if Ms. Harper needs some help in the kitchen.”

  I turn and walk out of the room, but as I head along the corridor I can't help glancing over my shoulder. As I do so, Mr. Randall bumps the study door shut, which I suppose means that he doesn't want to be disturbed. He's probably looking at some of Mother's important documents, and I'm sure that's something he has to do. After all, he was Mother's assistant and he knows everything about her company. I just wish he didn't have to sit at her desk while he works.

  As I head along the corridor, I can't help thinking about Mother. I wish she could come back. I don't know what I'm going to do without her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  One week later

  There are two of them now. Two planes flying straight through the sky over London. Watching them, I can't help wondering where they've come from or where they're going. There are so many places in the world and -

  “Sylvia?”

  Turning, I see that Ms. Harper is watching me from the other side of the table.

  “Daydreaming again?” she continues, with a faint smile.

  I look down at my books. “I'm sorry.”

  “Don't be. Tell me what you were thinking about.”

  “It's nothing.”

  “You've been looking out the window a lot over the past few days. You never really used to do that before your -”

  She stops suddenly, and when I glance at her she looks uncomfortable.

  “Well, it's just a new thing I've noticed. You were doing it at your birthday party yesterday, too.”

  “I didn't mean to.”

  She smiles again, but then there's the sound of a door opening in the distance, followed by voices. I turn and look toward the hallway and I realize I can hear Mr. Randall talking to someone whose voices I don't think I've ever heard before. A moment later Mr. Randall walks past the doorway with another, older man who's carrying a briefcase.

  “I assure you, it is real,” Mr. Randall is saying.

  “Then price is not an issue,” the other man replies. “You'll understand, though, that Mr. Flemyng is skeptical. This all seems to have come about very quickly. Almost too quickly.”

  They continue to talk as they head along the corridor, and after a moment I realize that they're going toward the elevator, which means they must be going down to where the mermaid lives. I feel a rush of concern, and then I turn to Ms. Harper.

  “Who was that?” I ask.

  “No-one. Let's -”

  “But who was it? Why's he going to see the mermaid? Why can't I see the mermaid?”

  “It's complicated.”

  “It's been a week since I saw her! You said she couldn't see anyone, so why is that man allowed to go down?”

  “He's just going to take a look at her,” she explains, although she sounds like she's hiding something. “Sylvia, why don't we -”

  “Why was he talking about a price?” I ask.

  “I'm sorry?”

  “He said the price is not an issue. What's he going to buy?”

  “I don't think he said that,” she replies.

  “I heard him.”

  “Maybe you were mistaken.”

  I shake my head.

  “Well, I didn't hear anyone say anything like that,” she continues, “so I guess you've just got really good hearing. Maybe you can ask Mr. Randall later what they were talking about.”

  “But -”

  “I can't help you, Sylvia!” she snaps. “So stop asking!”

  Staring at her, I can't help thinking that she seems really stressed. Normally I'd start crying after being told off, but this time I'm too suspicious about what's really going on. And the longer I watch Ms. Harper, the more uncomfortable she seems as she finally looks down at the notes and mutters something under her breath. I think I upset her, but I don't feel bad about that at all. I almost feel like upsetting her is the only way I can try to get her to tell me the truth.

  She's hiding something from me.

  ***

  “I'm just going to pop to the loo,” Ms. Harper says later, while we're making lunch. “I'll be a few minutes, and then when I get back we'll crack on with the mixture. Does that sound good?”

  I nod, and then I pretend to be focusing on the stirring bowl as she hurries out of the room.

  I've been waiting for this moment.

  Setting the spoon down, I head over to the doorway and peer out just as Ms. Harper shuts the bathroom door. She's been going in there several times a day, and it's always for more than just “a few minutes.” Sure enough, a moment later I hear her speaking softly, and I realize that I was right when I suspected that she's been calling someone. I hesitate for a few seconds, before hurrying along the corridor and then briefly stopping outside the bathroom door to listen.

  “I know I haven't been around much,” she's saying quietly, “but that'll change soon. I think tomorrow I can come.”

  There's a pause as she listens to whoever's on the other end of the line.

  “This time I promise,” she adds with a sigh. “It's different now. The guy showed up, and I don't think he's going to mess about. Everything's going so fucking fast, I feel like my head's spinning, but Michael
's got it covered. He says we've got a very small window to get this done, but he's found a buyer.”

  She pauses again.

  “I don't know, some rich old white dude I guess. It doesn't matter. What matters is the money, and getting out of this head-fuck of a job, and just never having to worry ever again. Doesn't that sound good?”

  Realizing that she'll probably be in there for at least ten minutes, just like the past few lunchtimes, I head along the corridor and over to the elevator. The door is already open, so I step into the chamber and use my fingerprints to activate the scanner, and then I press the button for the next floor down. There's a part of me that worries Mr. Randall might have changed it so that my fingerprints don't work, but a moment later the door slides shut and I feel the chamber start to move down the shaft.

  Thirty seconds later I step out into the corridor, and then I stop again.

  I've been planning to sneak down here all morning, but now I'm starting to wonder that I'm doing the wrong thing. Would Mother be proud of me for asking questions, or would she be angry that I'm not listening to Mr. Randall and Ms. Harper? I can imagine both reactions, but then I tell myself that the important thing is not to get caught. I just want to hear what Mr. Randall and the new man are talking about, and then I'll sneak back up before Ms. Harper is off the phone.

  Nobody will ever even know that I was here.

  Making my way along the corridor, I finally reach the double doors. I can hear voices on the other side, but it sounds like they're way over on the other side of the room, near the tank. I hesitate for a moment, worried about maybe getting caught, but then I push the door just slightly open, and I see Mr. Randall and the other man silhouetted against the huge tank as they talk. The mermaid is in the center of the tank, watching them.

  “We'll have to run our own checks to be sure,” the man is saying. “I can't imagine how something like this could be faked, but Mr. Flemyng won't want to take any chances. No offense intended, obviously.”

  “None taken,” Mr. Randall replies. “Our own expert, Doctor Collier, will be happy to assist.”