The Three

by Sarah Lotz

  Walking in there that first time was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Everything, from the wedding and school photos on the walls, to the dried-up Christmas tree in the driveway that Stephen hadn’t got around to throwing away, was a reminder of what Jess and I had lost. When I shut the door behind me, the shouts of the hacks outside filtering through (yes, they even followed me on this painful errand), I felt as bereft as I did when I first got the tragic news.

  But I made myself confront the scene. For Jess’s sake I had to be strong. I walked slowly through the house, finally breaking down completely when I saw the photos of me and Stephen as kids that he’d put up in his office. There was me, pudgy and gaptoothed; him, svelte and serious. Physically, you would never have known we were twins, and our personalities were similarly diverse. Even at age eight I knew I wanted to be on the stage, whereas Stephen was far more retiring and serious. Still, even though we didn’t run in the same circles at school, we were always close, and when he met Shelly, our relationship actually deepened. Shelly and I got on like a house on fire straight away.

  Though it broke my heart, I made myself stay the night in the house–I needed to acclimatise for Jess’s sake. I barely slept, and when I did, I dreamed of Stephen and Shelly. The dreams were so vivid it was as if they were right in the room with me, their spirits clinging to the house. But I knew I was doing the right thing where Jess was concerned, and I know they gave me their blessing.

  To date, their bodies haven’t been recovered. Nor has Polly’s. In some ways that’s a blessing. Rather than a terrible trip to identify them in some soulless Portuguese morgue, my last memories of them are of our final dinner together: Polly and Jess giggling, Stephen and Shelly talking about their last-minute holiday. A happy family.

  Through all of this, I don’t know what I would have done without Mel, Geoff and the rest of the good people from 277 Together. Remember, these are men and women who had lost their own loved ones in the most horrendous way possible, but they sprang to my defence at every opportunity. Mel and Geoff even accompanied me when I moved my belongings into the house, helped me decide what to do about the family photos displayed everywhere. We decided to put them away until Jess had had time to fully accept her parents and sister’s deaths. They were my rocks, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

  The bile spewed by the Addamses and their tame hacks wasn’t all we had to deal with, especially when all the conspiracy stories started going viral. Mel was especially incensed by this–you wouldn’t know it to look at her, but she’s a staunch Catholic, and she was genuinely offended by the horsemen conspiracy theory in particular.

  Around that time, we got the news that a memorial service was being planned. The few bodies that had been recovered wouldn’t be released until after the inquest, which could be months away, and all of us felt that we needed some closure. They still didn’t know what had caused the Go!Go! crash, although terrorism had been ruled out, as it had in all of the four disasters. I tried not to catch too much of the ongoing investigation on the news–it just made me feel worse–although I’d gathered that they suspected it might have had something to do with an electrical storm that had caused severe turbulence for other flights in the area. Mel told me she’d seen the footage from the Navy sub they’d sent down to try and retrieve the black box from the wreckage on the ocean floor. She said it looked so peaceful down there; the middle section of the aircraft looked barely damaged, settled forever in its watery grave. She said the only thing that kept her going was the thought that it had been quick. She couldn’t bear the idea of Danielle and the other passengers knowing they were going to die, like those poor passengers on the Japanese flight, who’d had time to leave messages. I knew exactly what she meant, but you can’t think like that, you just can’t.

  The memorial service was going to be held at St Paul’s, with an additional service in Trafalgar Square for the public. I knew the Addams Family would be there, no doubt with their favourite hack from the Sun in tow, and I was understandably nervous.

  Again, Mel, Geoff and their army of friends and family came to my rescue. They stuck to my side throughout that fraught day. To be honest, they were from the same background as Shelly’s family. Geoff had been out of work for years, and they lived on a council estate in Orpington not far from where the Addamses lived. It wouldn’t have been unreasonable for them to take Marilyn and co’s side, especially as I was being painted as a ‘public school snob with artistic aspirations’. But they didn’t. When we arrived at the service, coincidentally at the same time as the Addamses (how’s that for fate? There were thousands of people there), Mel jabbed a finger in Marilyn’s face and hissed, ‘You cause any trouble here and you’ll be out on your ear, you hear me?’ Marilyn was wearing a cheap black fascinator that resembled a giant spider, and although she remained stony-faced, it quivered indignantly. Jase and Keith bristled but they were both stared down by Gavin, Mel and Geoff’s oldest son, a shaven-haired fellow with the build and look of a strip-club bouncer. I found out later he was ‘connected’. A geezer. Someone you wouldn’t want to mess with.

  I could have hugged him.

  I won’t dwell on the service itself, but one part in particular touched me–Kelvin’s reading. He’d chosen that W. H. Auden poem, ‘Stop all the Clocks’, the one most people know from Four Weddings and A Funeral. It could have been mawkish, but here was this huge dreadlocked fellow, reading with quiet dignity. When he read the line, ‘Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead’ you could have heard a pin drop.

  I’d barely made it outside the cathedral when I got the call from Dr Kasabian. Jess had woken up.

  I don’t know how Marilyn and the Addamses found out that she’d emerged out of her coma–I assume one of the nurses must have called them–but when I arrived at the hospital, my emotions threatening to swamp me, there they were, waiting outside her room.

  Dr K knew all about our fraught relationship–he didn’t live under a stone–and insisted that the last thing Jess needed right now was a tense atmosphere. Marilyn grumpily agreed to button her lip, told Fester and Gomez to wait outside, and we were ushered in to see her. Marilyn, her fascinator still quivering, made sure she reached Jess’s bedside first, practically pushing me out of the way.

  ‘It’s me, Jessie,’ Marilyn said. ‘Nana.’

  Jess looked at her blankly. Then she reached out a hand towards me. I wish I could say that she knew who we were, but there was no recognition in her eyes, which was absolutely understandable. But I can’t help but think that she looked at both of us, sized us up, and figured out, right then, who would be the lesser of two evils.

  Chiyoko and Ryu.

  Message logged @ 19.46, 21/01/2012

  RYU: You there?????

  Message logged @ 22.30, 21/01/2012

  CHIYOKO: I’m back.

  RYU: When?

  CHIYOKO: Like five minutes ago.

  RYU: 24 hrs no messaging. No you. It was… strange.

  CHIYOKO: That’s sweet. What did you do while I was gone?

  RYU: Usual. Slept. Ate something, watched an ancient episode of Welcome to the NHK, but it was just a filler. And hey… you lied.

  CHIYOKO: What do you mean?

  RYU: I saw you on TV. You’re pretty. Um… you look a bit like Hazuki Hitori.

  CHIYOKO: …

  RYU: Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Forgive this stupid geek.

  (<^_^>)

  CHIYOKO: How did you know it was me? I wasn’t wearing a name badge.

  RYU: It had to be you. You were next to Hiro, standing behind your uncle, am I correct? There was almost as much footage of Hiro and Kenji as there was of what’s her name, minister Uri’s crazy wife. The one who believes in aliens.

  CHIYOKO: Aikao Uri.

  RYU: Yes, her. So, was it you?

  CHIYOKO: Maybe.

  RYU: I knew it! I thought you said you weren’t into fashion?

  CHIYOKO: I’m not. Enough with the personal stuf
f.

  RYU: Sorry again. So how was it?

  CHIYOKO: It was a memorial service, how do you think it was?

  RYU: Am I making you grumpy?

  CHIYOKO: Hey, I’m the ice princess. I’m always grumpy. I’ll tell you about it if you want to hear. How much detail do you want me to go into?

  RYU: I want to hear all of it. Listen… I know this is against the rules, but… just gonna say it: You want to Skype?

  CHIYOKO: …

  RYU: You still there?

  CHIYOKO: Let’s carry on as usual.

  RYU: Whatever is cool for you, ice princess. I know what you look like now. You cannot hide from me (wwwwwwwwwwwwww). Sorry, evil laugh over.

  CHIYOKO: It feels strange, you knowing my face. Like you have power over me or something.

  RYU: Hey! I told you my real identity first. You cannot believe how hard that was.

  CHIYOKO: I know. I’m not being paranoid.

  RYU: I’ve told you things I have never told anyone. You don’t judge me. You don’t stare at me like the old bitches in the neighbourhood.

  CHIYOKO: How could I? We live in different prefectures.

  RYU: You know what I mean. I trust you.

  CHIYOKO: Except you know what I look like and I don’t know what you look like.

  RYU: You’re better looking than me. (^ _ ^)

  CHIYOKO: Enough!!!!!!!

  RYU: Okay. So tell me, how was it? It looked really emotional. At the shrine… all those photographs of the passengers… They looked like they went on forever.

  CHIYOKO: It was. Emotional, I mean. Even this ice princess could not fail to be affected. 526 people. I don’t know where to start…

  RYU: Start at the beginning.

  CHIYOKO: Okay… So, I told you we had to leave really early. For once in his life Father took the day off and Mother Creature said I should dress in black, but not to be ‘too fashionable’. I’m like, hey, no problem, MC.

  RYU: You looked good.

  CHIYOKO: Ai!

  RYU: Sorry.

  CHIYOKO: Because of Android Uncle’s status, we’d managed to get accommodation at one of the lodges near to Lake Saiko, so that we didn’t have to leave immediately afterwards unlike most of the victims’ families, although a lot of them were staying at the Highland Resort or one of the other Mount Fuji tour hotels.

  CHIYOKO: Our place was Japanese style, run by this ancient couple who couldn’t take their eyes off Android Uncle. The woman went on and on about bringing us tea and how to get to the closest onsen, as if we were there for a holiday.

  RYU: Sounds like my neighbours.

  CHIYOKO: Yeah. Real old busy-bodies. As we arrived, the morning mist was settling and it was cold. MC didn’t stop talking in the car the whole way there, pointing out where Mount Fuji would be if you could actually see it–the cloud hid it from view that whole day. Android Uncle greeted us, he’d arrived the night before from Osaka with Hiro and the sister of one of his lab assistants, who he’d asked to help look after Hiro. I know MC was offended because he went back to Osaka after Hiro left the hospital instead of staying with us, but she put on her polite and respectful face.

  CHIYOKO: Android Uncle looked much older than I remembered him.

  RYU: Do you think he makes his robot look older as he ages?

  CHIYOKO: Ryu! It’s not like you to be so dark!!!

  RYU: Sorry. And Hiro?

  CHIYOKO: He was sleeping when MC, Father and I arrived, it was still really early, remember. The assistant bowed and scraped to the parents, simpering at Android Uncle. You could see that she had her eye on him as a future husband. When MC, Father and Android Uncle went off to another room to talk privately, she was straight on her cellphone, texting away like crazy.

  RYU: I think I saw her! Big head. Pasty face. Fat.

  CHIYOKO: How do you know that wasn’t me?

  RYU: Was it? If so, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.

  CHIYOKO: Of course it wasn’t me!

  RYU: o( _ _ )o Forgive this idiot.

  CHIYOKO: You’re so gullible. When the parents and Android Uncle finished their private conversation they came back in and we hung around and made really really awkward conversation. ‘I must go wake Hiro,’ Android Uncle said. ‘It is time.’ ‘Let me go,’ the assistant said. I’m going to call her Pasty-Face. Pasty-Face bowed like an asshole and left the room. This bit was funny. We heard this screech and she came running downstairs saying, ‘Aiii, Hiro bit me!’

  RYU: Hiro bit her? Seriously!!!!

  CHIYOKO: She deserved it. Mother Creature said that Hiro was probably having a bad dream and woke up with a fright. I could tell she didn’t think much of Pasty-Face either, which made me happy to be around her for once. Android Uncle went upstairs to fetch him. Hiro was dressed in a little black suit, his eyes puffy from sleep. After that, Android Uncle barely glanced at him or spoke to him.

  RYU: What do you mean?

  CHIYOKO: I think he found it painful to look at him, as if he reminded him too much of Auntie Hiromi. Hiro doesn’t look anything like her, but perhaps they had the same mannerisms. Shall I continue?

  RYU: Please.

  CHIYOKO: Hiro looked at us, one by one, and when he saw me, he came shuffling over and took my hand. I didn’t know what to do at first. His fingers were ice cold. MC looked surprised that Hiro had chosen me, and kept trying to entice him over. But he didn’t move. He leaned against me, and I heard him sigh.

  RYU: You think you reminded him of his mother?

  CHIYOKO: Maybe. Maybe he realised the rest of the people in the room were fucking losers.

  RYU: !!!!

  CHIYOKO: Then we drove to the memorial site and the shrine. We were still early, but already there were thousands of people there, as well as packs of reporters and TV cameras. There was this sudden hush when people saw Hiro–he still refused to let go of my hand–and all you could hear were the click and whir of the reporters’ cameras. Several people bowed respectfully, although I didn’t know if they were bowing to Android Uncle or Hiro. It was a strange feeling being the centre of attention and I could tell Pasty-Face was lapping it up. Father just kept this empty expression on his face and MC didn’t know where to look. The crowd even drew back so that we were able to walk straight up to pay our respects to Auntie’s photograph without waiting in line. It was still misty, and the air was thick with incense. Am I boring you? Going into too much detail?

  RYU: No! I’m touched. You should be a writer. Your words are beautiful.

  CHIYOKO: Are you serious??????

  RYU: Yes.

  CHIYOKO: Ha! Tell that to the exam board.

  RYU: Please continue.

  CHIYOKO: As we stood there, a ripple went through the crowd and a small woman approached us. I didn’t recognise her straight away. Then I realised it was Captain Seto’s wife. She’s old, at least forty, but she’s much prettier in real life.

  RYU: That wasn’t on TV.

  CHIYOKO: It was brave of her to come, especially as so many assholes were still saying the crash was Captain Seto’s fault. That makes me so mad, especially as the isho proved that he was calm and controlled right up until the last moment. Plus there’s the phone footage that businessman filmed when the cabin filled with smoke, so it was obviously a mechanical problem. His wife was so dignified and calm. She bowed at Hiro, but didn’t speak. I wish now that I’d said something to her. I wanted to tell her that she should be proud of what her husband had done. Then she left. I didn’t see her again.

  RYU: That must have been intense.

  CHIYOKO: Yeah. You probably saw the rest on TV.

  RYU: Did you talk to the prime minister?

  CHIYOKO: No. He looks way older and smaller in real life, though. And his bar-code head is far more pronounced in the flesh. The wind lifted some strands and you could see his scalp.

  RYU: !!!!!

  CHIYOKO: Hey, did you hear Android Uncle’s speech about how Auntie Hiromi was valued in life and he would do his best to ho
nour her memory while he brings up Hiro?

  RYU: Of course.

  CHIYOKO: Even I almost cried. It wasn’t just his words, it was the atmosphere. I’m starting to sound like some kind of spiritual freak, huh?

  RYU: No. I could sense the atmosphere even here in my crappy room.

  CHIYOKO: And all the time, Hiro held on to my hand. I kept looking down at him to make sure he was okay, and MC and Pasty-Face kept vying with each other to fuss around him, but he acted like they weren’t there.

  RYU: That American who was on the plane. That was her daughter who spoke, right? Her Japanese was good.

  CHIYOKO: Yeah. That message her mother left… What do you think she was trying to say? ‘The boy, the boy…’ Do you think she saw Hiro before she died?