Stella woke in the night.
Mae heard her and crossed the hallway to climb into bed with her.
‘Lady is here. Am I dreaming?’
‘No.’
Stella touched the sleeping dog’s head.
‘I had that dream again. Everything was black … not everyday black, this was too black. I couldn’t even sense you. Not at all. What if that’s what it’s like?’
Mae pressed a hand to her sister’s head. ‘It’s not. I promise.’
‘Will Mummy and Daddy be there?’
‘Yes.’
‘How will I know them?’
Mae closed her eyes.
Saviour 2 launched on a Saturday evening.
Mae’s parents had taken her to London to see an opera.
Rigoletto.
When the world was still round and the future unblemished. Mae had worn a new dress. Her father looked handsome in a dinner suit and black tie, while her mother shone in her emerald ballgown.
Mae did not know what an opera was, did not know the beauty of sacrifice or the power music could have.
She had cried when Gilda was revealed.
Her mother had taken her hand and told her it wasn’t real, but that wasn’t what she needed to hear.
It would take two months to discover that Saviour 2 had failed.
‘Will they mind that I can’t see them?’
‘They won’t mind.’
Stella found her hand. ‘What I said before –’
‘I know.’
‘Will you sleep here tonight?’
‘Yes.’
She caught the first bus of the day, sat alone, now and then the driver caught her eye and smiled.
‘Not long,’ he said.
She nodded.
‘Thirty years I’ve driven this route. My wife wants me to stop. What the hell else would I do?’
‘Talk to her?’
He laughed so hard the bus veered.
At Newport she sat outside the pawnbroker’s for an hour before the lights flickered on and the man unbolted the door.
He frowned when he saw her, coughed and held up a hand. ‘No more stolen laptops. I had the police here the other day. Think they’d have something better to do, what with the world going to shit.’
‘The laptop. I need it back,’ she said.
‘Five hundred.’
She looked at him like he was joking. ‘You gave me fifty.’
He said nothing when she pleaded, even when she swallowed her dignity and begged. He simply looked past her at the television as Morales talked. ‘He’s trying to stop a tank by tossing marbles at it. We’re doomed.’
‘That necklace you showed me last time,’ she said.
He shrugged.
‘Blue stone, looked like a moon.’
He pointed to the window, where she saw it on display. No doubt it was Hunter’s. It was too unusual, too unique to be anything but.
‘How much is it?’
‘You can’t afford it.’
She kept her eyes on the stone. ‘Try me.’
‘A thousand.’
‘How much did you pay for it?’
He didn’t even bother replying.
‘You said a girl brought it in.’
He shrugged, like he’d said nothing like that.
She walked over to the counter and stared at him, unflinching. He didn’t look like the kind of man who could be intimated.
‘What did she look like?’
He looked up at the TV screen behind. ‘I don’t remember.’
She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of notes.
That got his attention. And she pulled out the photo Luke Manton had given her and showed it to him.
He put on a pair of reading glasses and studied the photo.
‘Yeah.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Believe it or not, we don’t get many teenage girls coming in here. Especially not with a memorable piece like that.’
She looked at the photo, at Abi’s smiling face, and felt that familiar stab in her gut. ‘Did she say anything?’
He snorted, then met her eye and maybe he could see the pain because he softened. ‘She took less.’
‘What do you mean?’
He looked down. ‘I said I didn’t have much cash on the premises, that she’d have to come back. It’s an old trick. People see through it.’
‘But she didn’t?’
‘It was clear she was desperate.’
Mae watched him. ‘And?’
He sighed. ‘The eyes. I’ve got nieces, you know when they’ve been crying, even if they try to hide it.’
‘You didn’t ask?’
‘Do I look like a counsellor? You don’t come in unless you’re desperate, and with Selena, everybody’s desperate.’
Mae walked into the council building, up the stone steps to the first floor and looked for him. She tried offices. It was Saturday but the place was busy. A mother stood with three children, the youngest screaming herself raw. Their belongings were stacked in the corner, two suitcases and a cardboard box.
He kicked us out.
We’re going to die on the street.
Mae sat for a while, and then she remembered the room she’d met him outside.
Another flight of stairs before she found it.
And then she saw him.
He sat on a chair. For a moment she watched him, the way he looked down at his shoes. It was like he didn’t know what he looked like, what he had. She wondered about privilege and class, what they meant in a dying world.
Mae stepped closer, the door was closed but she looked through the window and saw the circle he sat in.
‘Are you coming in?’ The man was older, maybe forty, he had long hair and a beard and the kind of eyes that told Mae he’d seen a lot.
She shook her head.
‘It’s not too late, you know,’ he said.
‘It is. Whatever’s in there, it’s too late.’
He smiled sadly. ‘I’d tell you the first step is the hardest, but to be honest they’re all hard.’
He placed a hand on her shoulder. And then led her into the room.
Sail didn’t react when he saw her.
She sat three down from him, took in the group, a mix of ages and genders.
People talked, listened. Sail watched her the whole time.
She wanted to go over, take his hand and tell him she was sorry. She wanted to tell him he could get his laptop back, that she knew where it was and that the cost was nothing to someone like him.
Instead she sat mute as he stood.
‘I’m Jack, and I’ve been clean for eleven months.’
They chorused ‘Hi, Jack.’
‘Don’t say that on a plane,’ Sail said.
Mae closed her eyes for a moment, and then stood, and walked away from Jack Sail.