Everything You Ever Wanted

by Luiza Sauma

  Eddie knew her flat as well as he knew his own. He knew where to leave his bicycle in the corridor, out of the neighbours’ way; where to hang his helmet and coat; where to find coffee, sugar, spaghetti, salt and moisturizer. But soon it would be over. Soon he would forget these things, and then relearn them at some other woman’s flat.

  Like many of their friends, he had recently taken to wearing glasses; their eyes gently declining after years of staring at screens. They suited him. He looked more like a sexy, young academic than a marketing man. Iris had showered before he arrived, but she was already covered in an oily film of sweat. Maybe it would make it easier for him to let her go – seeing her in this dreadful state.

  ‘You all right?’ he said, tenderly.

  ‘Yes.’ Iris snipped the ends from the tulips and put them into a glass vase with tap water.

  ‘You don’t seem all right.’

  She grinned. ‘I’m fine!’ Perhaps the smile was too much, a bit deranged. ‘Do you want some coffee and pie?’

  ‘What kind of pie?’

  ‘Pecan.’

  ‘Yeah, OK.’

  If she’d had a living room, she would have asked him to wait there, while she made the coffee, sliced the pie and performed a final, whispered dress rehearsal of her crazy admission, but she didn’t have a living room, so she turned the radio on to cover the silence. Eddie sat at the table. West African music, something pretty and soulful, filled the kitchen. White, snowy light beamed through the windows. The heating was on too high. Iris placed two cups, a cafetière, a bottle of milk and two slices of pie on the table, and sat down.

  ‘You made this?’ said Eddie.

  ‘Yes, this morning.’

  ‘To sweeten the pill?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ She laughed, but he didn’t.

  ‘You never bake. What’s going on?’

  Iris poured the coffee and then the milk, and stirred both cups. ‘OK, I do have something to tell you. It’s a bit mad.’

  ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

  ‘It’s weirder than that.’

  ‘You’re becoming a man?’

  ‘Eddie –’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘You know Life on Nyx?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, slowly. His mouth hung open but he was smiling too, as if it were impossible – the thing she was about to say.

  ‘I’m going, Eddie. I’m going to live on Nyx.’

  He didn’t speak. He looked into her eyes, searchingly, waiting for her facade to fall, for her to laugh, as if it were a joke. Iris’s hands began to shake. She squeezed them between her thighs.

  ‘I’m leaving London in June.’ She looked at the table. ‘First I’m going to California for training, but I won’t be back after that. I’m going to Nyx in September. But you can’t tell anyone. I’m only allowed to tell the people closest to me.’

  She glanced up. Eddie still wasn’t speaking. He was frozen, but not smiling any more, not even looking at her.

  ‘Are you joking? You are, aren’t you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’ He shook his head.

  Iris had never seen him look so serious and confused. It didn’t make sense. Everything was easy for Eddie, everything was logical, there was always a solution – right?

  ‘You’re the first person I’m telling. Even my parents don’t know. Even Kiran.’

  ‘Where is she?’ he said quietly, looking at his pie, which he hadn’t touched. His eyes were shining and red-rimmed, as if he might cry.

  ‘She’s at her parents’ house.’

  ‘So this is your goodbye pie.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Sure.’ He stood up and walked out of the kitchen, without looking at her.

  ‘Eddie.’

  He hurriedly took his coat and helmet down but didn’t put them on, because he wanted to get out as quickly as possible. Iris watched him from the kitchen door.

  ‘Eddie, please.’

  ‘What?’ he said, looking away from her.

  ‘I thought you would –’

  He turned. ‘What? You thought I would beg you to stay?’ His voice was hard and furious, all the sweetness gone.

  ‘I have two weeks to decide.’

  ‘But you’ve made your decision, haven’t you?’

  Iris didn’t reply.

  ‘What do you want from me?’ he shouted.

  Iris flinched. ‘Don’t shout at me.’

  ‘Go and live on the fucking moon, if that’s what you want to do.’

  ‘It’s a planet.’

  Eddie dropped his things on the floor, walked back into the kitchen and grabbed Iris by her wrists.

  ‘Ow, that hurts!’ she screamed, though she was exaggerating – it didn’t hurt. She tried to squirm out of his grasp, while hoping he wouldn’t let go. Tears began to fall down her face. ‘Don’t hit me!’

  ‘Jesus Christ, I’m not going to hit you,’ he said, moving his hands from her wrists to her shoulders. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Tears were dripping from Iris’s face to her T-shirt, soaking through to her skin. Snot began to pour from her nose, but she couldn’t wipe it away because Eddie was standing too close. She was sobbing heavily, with no control over herself, making animal-like noises. It was the first time she had cried in front of another person in years.

  ‘Tell me, Iris. Please tell me.’

  ‘I – I – I – I can’t speak.’

  ‘Just breathe. I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘I can’t, Eddie, I can’t.’

  ‘You can’t what?’

  ‘I can’t, I can’t, I can’t tell you.’

  He let go of her. Iris wiped her face with her hands and then rubbed them on her jeans. Eddie’s tenderness seemed to ebb away. He sighed like an irritated parent.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ he said, looking away from her.

  ‘Because I want to. It’s my life.’ She could feel tears on her face hardening into salt.

  ‘Do you actually care about anyone?’

  ‘What kind of question is that?’

  ‘Do you, though?’

  Rage began to shimmer in her chest, rage against everyone and everything: Eddie, her mother, her father, herself, the planet, this dreadful planet.

  ‘You have no idea how much I care.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘You barely know me.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He almost laughed. ‘I really don’t.’ His eyes were wet, just a little.

  Why? thought Iris. Why would he cry over me?

  Eddie turned away and started walking towards the front door. Iris followed him and put her arms around his waist. His muscles jerked away, repulsed by her touch.

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ He held his hands up, as if she were arresting him.

  She let go. He didn’t look back.

  ‘Please don’t go,’ she said. ‘I’m a terrible person, I know I am.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk any more.’

  ‘Please don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to send you this form –’

  ‘Iris, just stop talking.’

  Eddie took his things and walked out of the door, down the stairs, out of the building with his bicycle, and didn’t look back. Iris went to the kitchen, drank both coffees, ate both slices of pie, and then burst into tears again – with relief, as well as sadness.

  When Kiran came home that evening, she went straight to Iris’s bedroom and lay down on the bed, beside her.

  ‘How are your parents?’ said Iris.

  Kiran rolled her eyes, but they were full of love. ‘Crazy as ever.’ She had a huge family – an endless network of aunts, uncles and cousins all over the world. Kiran would never leave Earth. She would never consider it, not even for a second.

  ‘Do you want some pecan pie? I made some.’

  ‘Hell yeah!’ She was still wearing her coat and leather boots.

  Iris went to the kitchen and returned wit
h a slice of pie and two glasses of Beaujolais, Kiran’s favourite.

  ‘You made this? said Kiran, impressed.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What’s it in aid of?’ She sat up. ‘Wait, let me guess.’

  ‘I don’t think you can.’

  Iris sat next to her, propped against some pillows, and drank her wine.

  ‘I know – you’re pregnant!’ said Kiran. She studied Iris’s face and sipped her drink. ‘No, no, you’re drinking. You’re engaged to Eddie? Yes, that’s it.’

  Iris kept her face blank. Kiran tried again.

  ‘You’ve got a new job?’

  Around midnight, at the end of the second bottle of wine, after they had both cried and smoked a dozen or so cigarettes – skinny ones that Kiran had brought back from Paris and forgotten about – they were still lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling in silence, in the gloom of the bedside lamp.

  ‘Don’t go,’ said Kiran.

  ‘You already said that.’

  ‘I’ll say it over and over again, till you change your mind.’

  ‘I’m not going to change my mind.’

  Finally Kiran got up. ‘I’ve got work tomorrow.’ Her long black hair was hanging in front of her face and her clothes were creased. She picked up her coat and bag from the floor. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to sleep,’ she said, as she walked to the door.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I feel like I don’t even know you.’

  Before Iris could reply, Kiran walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

  That night, when Iris was lying in bed, she couldn’t feel the presence of the Smog, not even a tiny, microscopic speck. She opened her eyes, sat up and looked around. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness. She could see her desk, the chair piled with clothes, and the wardrobe, but no Smog.

  ‘Where are you?’ she said.

  No one answered. She lay back down and closed her eyes. Outside the window, a fox started crying like a baby, but Iris didn’t hear it because she was already asleep.

  The next day, Iris told Alison that she had been headhunted for a new, top-secret job.

  Alison seemed disappointed but impressed. ‘I don’t know how we’re going replace you,’ she said.

  Easily, thought Iris.

  ‘Honestly, you’ve been such a great asset to Freedom & Co. I’m not surprised you’ve been snapped up. You have such an amazing future ahead of you.’

  ‘Ah, thanks.’

  ‘Can I ask, though?’ Alison stared into her eyes and leaned forward. ‘Is it Google? I won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘You’ll know soon enough.’

  She grinned. ‘It is, isn’t it! I knew it.’

  In the team meeting, Iris shared the news with everyone else. Jenny and Rich glared at her, as if she were a murderer. Had Eddie already told them the truth? Never mind. None of it mattered.

  Iris told her family last. She considered various options. A restaurant would be too public, her flat too claustrophobic, an email anticlimactic – she wanted to see their reactions. She called her mother and invited herself round, telling her she had some news.

  ‘Can’t you say it over the phone?’ said Eleanor.

  ‘I want to say it in person.’

  ‘Are you engaged? To your colleague Edmund?’ Eleanor had never met Eddie, but there was a smile in her voice – the idea of a wedding delighted her.

  ‘Edward. You’ll have to wait till Sunday.’

  ‘That’s it, isn’t it!’

  Iris’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. A montage flipped through her mind: the engagement party, the hen do with her BFFs, the fairy-lit wedding, her mother in her best blue dress, proud of her at last, and then a baby – job done. All these achievements would be posted on the internet and everyone would be so very happy.

  When Eleanor opened the front door on Sunday afternoon and saw Iris standing alone, no fiancé in tow, she stretched her smile to conceal her disappointment. They went to the dining room, where she quickly dismantled the fifth place-setting on the table. For lunch they had takeaway sushi with Prosecco – her parents had been preparing to celebrate.

  After Iris declared her plans, Mona was, unusually, the first to speak. She dropped her chopsticks and said, ‘What the hell?’

  Jack White boomed, ‘You’re doing what?’ He glared at Iris with confusion and disgust. ‘Are you fucking insane?’

  Eleanor flinched at his swearing. Iris did, too.

  ‘Jack,’ said Eleanor. She shook her head like a schoolteacher, but kept her eyes on the table, busying herself with the food – moving tempura rolls from the plastic tray to her plate, mixing green wasabi into a dish of soy sauce. Her pale hands shook as she did these things. Finally she put a piece of sushi in her mouth and chewed slowly, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

  ‘You’re not going,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ve signed the agreement.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s not too late to back out.’

  ‘I don’t want to back out.’

  Iris picked up a piece of sushi with her fingers, dipped it in soy sauce and popped it into her mouth. Its texture was gluey and disgusting, like an old piece of gum. She forced herself to swallow and shivered as it went down.

  ‘Why the hell would you want to live on another planet?’ said Jack.

  ‘It’ll be interesting.’

  ‘Learning a new language is interesting.’ His face was a red, blotchy mess. ‘This is just … suicide. Why don’t you take up a hobby or something. Go fucking sailing. Adopt a dog!’

  ‘It’s not suicide. It’s a really wonderful opportunity.’

  Her mother said, ‘Hmm,’ and carried on rearranging bits of food on her plate.

  Once more, the giant hand squeezed Iris’s heart.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ said Mona, her voice trembling. ‘You’ll never see us again.’ Unlike Eleanor, she was looking at Iris, with pleading eyes.

  ‘I know it’s a sacrifice, but –’

  ‘Shut up!’ Mona shook her head. Tears began to fall down her face. ‘You’re crazy.’

  The hand squeezed harder on Iris’s heart. Mona stood up.

  ‘Where are you going?’ said Iris, trying to massage away the pain.

  ‘Mona, sit down until we’ve all finished,’ said Jack.

  ‘No,’ said Mona. ‘Bye, for ever.’

  ‘I’m not leaving London till June.’

  ‘Whatever, I don’t care.’

  Mona left the room and ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, then slammed the door to her bedroom. All throughout this, Eleanor had barely said a word. Iris wondered whether she cared at all. Her mother was so good at keeping difficult things locked away, like wild, sedated animals in a cage. If Jack dropped dead at that moment, which was possible, because he was a fat workaholic, Eleanor might have just said, ‘Oh dear,’ and carried on eating. Iris had memories of her mother being more expressive, but she wasn’t sure if she’d made them up. Both her parents had vanished: first Robert, then Eleanor.

  ‘Mum?’ said Iris.

  ‘Yes?’ Eleanor glanced at her daughter for a fraction of a second, then looked back down.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I watched a documentary about it a few months ago,’ said Eleanor, her voice almost inaudible, ‘this … planet. It looked like a fascinating place.’

  ‘I was chosen out of half a million applicants.’

  ‘That’s very impressive.’ She nodded.

  Ask me not to go, thought Iris. Please, just ask.

  Nobody spoke for several seconds. Rain began to tap against the windows.

  ‘It looked very beautiful,’ said Eleanor. ‘In real life, it must be dazzling. Do you think you would be happy there?’

  Iris cleared her throat and sipped some water. She had a sudden urge to cry.

  ‘Yes, I really do.’

  ‘We would miss you, Iris, so very, very much. But if you think you would be happy
…’ She let the sentence trail off.

  ‘Eleanor, are you serious?’ said Jack.

  Iris only realized, in that moment, that she had wanted her mother to become angry, to shout at her, to behave as Jack had done, to forbid her from going. She hadn’t signed the contract yet. She had been waiting.

  Her parents didn’t ask for more details, but Iris told them anyway. She described the interviews in the black room, without mentioning Edie – they had never known about her. She explained that she would be teamed up with three other people at the training camp in California – two men and one woman – and that they would live together, like a family. Her parents listened, mostly in silence.

  ‘What about Edward?’ said her mother, towards the end of Iris’s monologue. ‘Is he going, too?’

  ‘No. We’ve split up.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame. I was looking forward to meeting him.’

  Iris turned down her stepfather’s offer of coffee. It was time to go. As usual, she didn’t hug her parents or kiss them goodbye – just gave them a little wave as they stood up to see her out. It was 3 p.m. She had lasted two hours at their house. The sky was grey; the sun was going down. When I leave Earth, she thought, I’ll never see a darkening sky again. But it was OK. How many sunsets does a person need to see, to carry on living?

  She didn’t feel like going home, so she walked towards the Heath. The snow had melted by then, and the cold had lifted. She wasn’t wearing gloves or a hat. She remembered the winters of her childhood, when it seemed to snow heavily every year; when her feet would go numb even when she wore two pairs of socks. Maybe the apocalypse will come soon, she thought. The ice will melt, everyone will die. There’ll be a nuclear war. I’m making the right choice. Everyone will know that, someday, and they’ll wish they had come, too.

  The Heath was comforting and familiar, as ever. Iris had known it since she was born, from different vantage points. Before her mother remarried, she had been most familiar with the Heath Extension – the flat, pristine part of the park that seeped into suburbia. There was something melancholy about the Extension. It was always so quiet and still, apart from the odd dog walker and jogger. But this, the main part of the Heath, was its heart, and always busy. She listened to music as she walked up Kite Hill – that dreamy Frank Ocean song ‘Pink + White’. At the top, she looked down at London. She could see the Gherkin, the Shard and the other steel and glass skyscrapers, most of which hadn’t existed when she was born. She could also see the pale dome of St Paul’s Cathedral, dwarfed by the skyscrapers and cranes. Once it had been the tallest building in London, but now that was hard to imagine. In two months she would turn twenty-nine, her last birthday on Earth. Three decades from now, the view would have changed again.