No Such Thing As Immortality

by Sarah Tranter

  I shook my head. ‘Actually, Elizabeth, I think it is genius – and I am most proud of you. I am beginning to feel sorry for Frederick though!’

  ‘Oh, don’t feel sorry for him – he so deserves it! I’m finding this whole experience liberating. I really appreciate you letting me be involved.’

  ‘Just make sure you do not think about that book when James is around. James needs no such encouragement.’

  ‘No, I have a different book for him,’ she confessed smugly. ‘Well, a series actually – which I did find in your library: ancient Latin journals, written by some celibate monks. I thought he’d like those!’

  I laughed. ‘I love you so very much, Elizabeth!’

  ‘Ditto, big brother! And you have no idea how much I love hearing you laugh!’ Snapping herself back to the task in hand, she continued, ‘Okay, let’s make do with the other shoes – now, on to the next stage!’

  I couldn’t believe how surreal life now was, nor that Hamleys, one of the world’s largest toy shops, was being visited by two vampires, one more intent than the other on shopping for a birthday present for a four-year-old mortal boy. I had been reluctant; in fact I had been very reluctant. But Elizabeth had convincingly argued, if I was going to be around a group of human children on Sunday, I should at least get some practice in.

  The experience was enlightening in more ways than I could have imagined. As I wandered around the seven floors of the shop, much more than a fish out of water, I realised for the first time what Elizabeth had lost when she had become immortal. I had become a vampire primarily to help her deal with the change, to ensure we could still be together, but it was painful to realise how I had missed the glaringly obvious.

  Elizabeth shielded her thoughts from me for much of the time in this particular shop, but all I had to do was look into her eyes, to know why. Elizabeth could never become a mother and have children of her own, as I could never become a father. She had found the love of her life in 1847, in the form of Frederick. They had been together all this time – and would be for eternity, of that I was sure. But they could never have a family of their own. As I watched Elizabeth crouch down, with a look of such tender love on her face, to return a toy thrown from a pushchair to a tiny grasping hand, I felt my heart breaking. A life for an immortal was not without its sacrifices. How had I been blind for so long? As she returned to her feet, she met my eyes. She knew I knew, and she gave me a sad smile.

  ‘Don’t tell Freddie,’ she whispered. We hugged, surrounded by giant cuddly toys and helicopters buzzing around our heads. We left with some kind of soft robotic ride-on dinosaur.

  ‘You seem to be getting more of a hold on Rowan’s emotions,’ Elizabeth mused, as we flew over Trafalgar Square. It was 10 p.m. and Elizabeth and I were heading out to find supper. ‘In the main, you’ve been able to function today.’

  I recalled finding myself slumped against walls on a number of occasions and on others, clutching desperately at Elizabeth. ‘You mean, I managed to stay on my feet?’

  ‘Well that is an improvement, love!’

  I reflected. ‘Indeed it is,’ I concluded, whilst grinning. Perhaps my attempts at compartmentalising those problematic stronger, negative feelings of Rowan’s, were working? I had been putting concerted effort into trying to segregate them, trying to find a place for them within me that allowed for physical function.

  ‘Are you still sceptical about being in love?’ she teased.

  I sighed. She had shocked me with mention of that word. I couldn’t analyse what I felt for Rowan. But I knew it couldn’t be love. ‘Everyone says love is selfless,’ I declared. ‘Having any contact with Rowan, whilst I am a threat to her, is selfish – not selfless.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s anywhere near as simple as that. And in any event, I don’t think you’re a threat to her. Not any more. Deep down, I believe you know that, too. Otherwise you wouldn’t be spending time with her.’

  ‘Thank you, Elizabeth, but I do not know that for sure!’ How could I ever know that? ‘And anyway, there is the trust issue, too. I am not being honest with her.’

  ‘But you want to be …’

  Too much, I thought. I hated deceiving her. But if she knew …

  ‘The fact you are feeling that, should tell you something. I just can’t help but think— I just don’t know why we’re all ruling out a future with her. It’s so obvious to me, that you’ve finally found someone you can love. Perhaps if you told her—’

  ‘She would quite rightly run away screaming! You are being a hopeless romantic. Just say, I no longer considered myself a threat – which is NOT the case – and she didn’t run, when she discovered my monstrous secret – which she WOULD. She is a human woman. She needs a normal physical relationship and to have a family, children. There can be NO future, Elizabeth, which is why I cannot think about it, and why I pleaded with you not to talk of it! Do not ruin this for me!’

  ‘We know a physical relationship is possible, because of James.’

  Jesus! ‘No, we do not!’ As far as I was concerned, that simply was NOT possible.

  ‘Yes, we do – you’re just in denial. So it’s about children.’

  ‘No, it is not just about children,’ I snapped. This was a topic I really didn’t want to discuss with Elizabeth.

  ‘I would have liked to have children, as you gathered today, so I know why you’re thinking like this. But what if she chose to be with you, rather than to have children?’

  ‘Elizabeth, she should not have to make the choice!’

  ‘But if she did?’

  ‘It is not an option!’

  ‘You are so pig-headed, you know! It’s pointless having such a discussion with you, because your mind’s made up.’ She paused before proceeding, ‘But I’ll put the cat amongst the pigeons … You could adopt.’

  ‘I am sorry?’ I must have misunderstood. Not a usual occurrence, but what was now usual?

  ‘You could adopt children.’

  ‘We could adopt human children?’

  ‘Why not? I’ve been thinking about it and with Rowan being adopted …’

  I snapped my head around to look at her. She couldn’t be serious. She really couldn’t. ‘You have been thinking about what? Adopting?’ My voice was half way between snarl and roar.

  ‘I haven’t spoken to Freddie about it.’ Dear God. She was.

  ‘Good God, Elizabeth! No wonder you have not. It is insane!’ That was a roar.

  ‘But why? We could give them a loving home.’ Elizabeth spoke shakily.

  I instantly regretted roaring. ‘Elizabeth …’ I said gently. Then sighed, ‘Elizabeth … Rowan was not adopted by vampires.’

  ‘Agreed, but that’s beside the point. Look, I can love deeply and—’

  ‘I know you can. So how could you bear to love your children – human children – and watch them grow old and die? Even if you used the power, so as not to feel the pain, the gap in your existence would be—’

  ‘Who says I’d need to?’

  ‘You are not seriously thinking what I think you are thinking?’

  ‘They would know what we are, and if as adults they wanted to join us, then it would be their choice.’

  ‘I cannot believe you could even consider—’

  Clearly not wishing to continue the subject, Elizabeth interrupted me quickly with something guaranteed to distract. ‘Enough about me – would you consider changing Rowan?’

  ‘NE—’ I couldn’t finish my furious response. My whole body was overwhelmed by the most agonising sensation. It felt like grief! Elizabeth grabbed my left arm as I went into free fall, and dragged me to the nearest high-rise rooftop.

  I was crippled. It couldn’t get worse than grief.

  What had happened? What was making Rowan feel this way? I had to help her, to be with her, but I was completely incapable of functioning. ‘Rowan …’ was all I was able to choke out, and Elizabeth immediately took control of things.

  I was writhing around in a
gony when she deposited me in the park around the corner from Rowan’s flat. ‘It’ll by okay, I promise,’ she whispered, before fleeing to investigate. When Elizabeth returned a few minutes later, laughing, I thought she had gone mad.

  ‘It’s going to be okay,’ she reassured quickly.

  I looked at her wildly. She smiled and stroked my face, asking gently, ‘What have you got yourself into, sweetheart? Rowan is absolutely fine! I’ve seen her, she’s fine. I reckon you’ve only a few more minutes of this, before the film reaches a more acceptable point.’

  She must have seen some kind of reaction in my feral, panicked eyes, because she grinned and nodded slowly. ‘Yes, a film, Nate. She’s simply watching a devastatingly sad film. She’s currently sat in her living room with Clare, and they are both bawling their eyes out at a film, I gather is called Truly Madly Deeply. I understand it’s about a human couple desperately in love. He dies, comes back as a ghost to help her through her grief, and I think they are at the point where he leaves her. She’ll perk up soon, I promise! Believe it or not – they appear to have watched it before and know what it does to them!’

  Why would she willingly do this to herself? And how could she deal with such emotional onslaught? Would it all get easier for me the longer I experienced emotion – or would it always be this hard?

  By the time I could pull myself up into a sitting position to rest my back against the nearest tree trunk, I realised I was both bewildered and terrified. What terrified me the most was how incapacitated I could still become. What would I do if Rowan got into serious trouble and really needed me? My attempts at compartmentalising were obviously not working after all. I was going to have to work even harder at it. There had to be a way.

  The inevitable culmination of the Monday-night movie was my sitting on Rowan’s roof regularly. Now, more than ever, I needed context. It was the only way I would be able to gauge whether Rowan’s emotions merited a full-blown rescue mission, or were simply the result of a human woman’s bewildering pastimes.

  I would be there most nights, and as much as possible during the day. I knew it was risky, but the tree on the other side of the chimney was in leaf now and pretty much disguised me, as long as I kept a low profile.

  It felt wonderful being closer to her. It was liberating not worrying whether she was still alive if she wasn’t awake by 7.30 a.m., or whether my losing her again ten minutes later was, indeed, because she was only taking a shower; I could now check on her breathing and hear the sound of the water.

  Listening into Rowan’s days was fascinating, bewildering, awe-inspiring, humbling, but whatever the occasion – sustaining. The invasion of privacy I suppose was unforgivable, but as far as I was concerned, it was justified. I was there for her if needed, and context being applied to her emotions, made the whole connection that much easier for me.

  And it had been in the nick of time, I reflected on Saturday morning, clambering back on to the roof, totally traumatised. How the hell could a woman get herself into such a state – about a ‘freakily long’ facial hair she swore appeared overnight? I had been half way through the window, desperately fighting against the physical restrictions her feelings placed on me, before I had discovered what her horror and terror related to. Jesus!

  And there was the obsession with her weight, for Christ’s sake! Who cared if she was in size 12 or size 14 clothes? She was beautiful. And how surreal had my existence become? I now found myself either depressed or joyous – depending on the result of Rowan’s ritual weigh-in each morning! Today’s had not been good. The muttering and wittering had prepared me for that one. But nothing had prepared me, in my usual rooftop perch, for her outraged declaration as the scales provided their reading: ‘Someone up there is taking the effing piss!’

  The day could only get better, I reflected, and grinned broadly to myself – it was the official date tonight. But then I spotted Aunty Hetty approaching Rowan’s door, and immediately lost my good humour. I inched myself even tighter to the chimney stack before hearing, ‘Nathaniel. I very much doubt Rowan would approve of your choice of campsite … but for the present, your secret is safe with me.’

  There was no way she should have been able to see me! And how did she know I would be able to hear her so quiet words? ‘What are you?’ I gasped, as much to myself as to her.

  ‘A concerned mother-figure, Nathaniel. DO NOT break her heart.’

  I was too shocked to respond, but when my heart rate had returned to normal, I focused intently on the conversation now taking place in the flat below. I should have known it would provide no enlightenment. It was all about the birthday party – which did nothing to make me feel better.

  Her timing could not have been better, I thought, angrily. Why did she have to act even more damned abnormally on today of all days? I was struggling with keeping the ‘bigger picture’ issues out of my head as it was. Rowan was human and I was … And I was deceiving her … There could be no future and …

  And Madeleine’s call hadn’t damned well helped matters. She was on her way back and insisting I meet with her urgently. Well, she was going to have to wait. Nothing was going to ruin my stepping-out with Rowan. Nothing.

  Chapter Ten

  Mama Mia!

  Elizabeth found me in my dressing room. The theatre tickets were in the pocket of my new coat, along with my hand warmers. My wallet was in the inside pocket. The taxi was booked to pick us both up from Rowan’s, but I knew I was looking perplexed. Had I remembered everything?

  ‘No, you haven’t,’ Elizabeth silently replied to my thought, coming over to reposition my jacket collar. ‘I, however, have! I believe these days flowers are required on a first date?’ She smiled smugly.

  I looked at her horrified.

  ‘You weren’t to know, so are excused. In keeping with your previous floral gift – so very impressive, Nate – I arranged for more flowers from Ridings to be sent down. They are a mixture of red and white this time. Ben, the head gardener, thinks the rabbits are the reason for the shortage in white … Aaaaanyway, my florist has made them into what you will hopefully find to be an acceptable bouquet.’

  Red for blood, I thought. And white for innocence. They would no doubt smell sweetly fragrant.

  ‘Stop it, Nate!’ Elizabeth snapped. ‘Give yourself a break! That sort of thinking is hardly going to help. They are ready to go on the table by the door. The boys are out of the way.’ The sounds of clashing swords confirmed James and Frederick to not be as out of the way as I would have liked. They were evidently fencing in the cellar. ‘But if you don’t want the roses, then …’

  ‘Elizabeth, thank you – of course I do!’ I said, shaking myself out of the momentary gloom. I put it down to worry, and the guilt at deceiving Rowan, which was now forever rearing its head. I should be walking away, not …

  ‘Now, off you go – and enjoy. And you will tell me all about it when you get back!’

  I was at Rowan’s early. I hadn’t flown, or driven, but had arrived by foot, effortlessly weaving between tourists and resident Londoners as they went about their Saturday evening human lives. No doubt there were many, not quite like me, but who, like me, were on their way to greet their cherished ones.

  I stood across the road from Rowan’s home. Was it impolite to arrive five minutes early? I hadn’t a clue. I had never done this before. Not as human; not as vampire. I paced around for a few moments, before giving up. I needed to be with her. What was four minutes and thirty-nine seconds?

  As I rang the buzzer for Flat 3, I felt her nerves and anticipated excitement – so in tandem with my own. I smiled contentedly.

  But I was snapped out of the good place I was at by the horror that dawned. Now Clare had returned home, Rowan was going to have to struggle down the two flights of stairs on her own to answer the door. I could so easily prevent that treacherous and dangerous journey by arriving through the window, but how could I? I could think of no way to prevent what was about to happen.

  I felt
Rowan’s frustration as she slowly made her way down the stairs, but it wasn’t a patch on my own. I was in agony. What if she fell? What if she broke her neck and died? I ended up gently (only because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself), but repeatedly, banging my forehead on the door as I tracked her progress – ready to smash it down should she come anywhere close to missing her footing. I could hear each step she made, and her occasional accompanying curses. It was excruciating. When she had safely navigated the last step, I was beside myself with relief. When she opened the door … I was simply beside myself – Rowan.

  Those eyes of hers looked shyly at me, and her smile would have taken my breath away – had I, at that point, any air in my lungs to take away. I could hear her heart beating erratically, most probably due to the effort of reaching the door, but I hoped some of it was for me. My heart, previously galloping, was now racing. Her scent was, as ever, intoxicating, and she was pleased to see me – I could feel it. I was elated. This was why I was pursuing Rowan Locke. When I was out of her presence, I worried; in her presence, that was all I ever wanted to be.

  I finally pulled myself together. ‘Rowan,’ I said, just loving hearing the sound of her name.

  ‘Nate, hi,’ she said, giving me a smile that turned into a laugh. Even though it was a nervous laugh, it was a magical sound. I laughed, too; whether it sounded as nervous as I felt, I wasn’t sure.

  ‘You look breathtaking!’ I observed, as I was finally able to drag my eyes from her face to take in the full picture. She was wearing a dress, the colour of which allowed the subtle copper tints within her hair to shine and made her sparkling eyes look like emeralds of such clarity, that no amount of money could ever afford them. No, I corrected myself. Such priceless perfection could never exist other than within the exquisite face before me.

  ‘Thank you.’ She smiled, clearly pleased with my spoken words. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself!’ Her eyes had swept quickly over my body, and now started the more leisurely journey I so loved. But she stopped. She seemed to be making herself deliberately stop, and she shook her head, laughing nervously, and raised her eyes to mine; she knew they would be watching.