I sat looking at the sun ripple on the water and I realised that for the first time I felt jealous of her. Up to that point, I never had. She was right, she had far more courage than me. Without knowing it, we had reached a crossroads. Already I felt left behind.
‘Why aren’t I like you?’ I said.
‘If you were, we would never have been friends.’
‘You always tell me that Icarus is like you.’
‘He is and he isn’t. We are learning together and I don’t care where the journey takes us. Come on, Jaz, don’t look so sad.’
Perhaps it was then that it dawned on me that without Becky, my life would have been black and white and grey all over.
‘You are richer in your soul,’ she said.
‘That sounds like Icarus babble,’ I said.
Becky stared down at her cup.
Jealousy isn’t a pretty emotion. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘That was mean.’
Becky leaned over and took my hand. ‘Love you, Jaz.’
We were about to leave when Becky said, ‘There’s one thing I’d like to do.’
She dragged me into the covered market to Mary May, Fortune Teller to the Stars.
‘Becky, don’t be crazy. It’s a waste of dosh.’
She took no notice. ‘Come on, Jaz, let’s give it a go.’
We had to wait, sitting on creaky plastic chairs. It was a grungy-looking place. I suppose it made all the drivel that Mary May had to say feel more real.
I whispered to Becky, ‘Nobody believes the future is hidden in here.’
That’s what I thought then. Now I’m not so sure.
Becky went first and insisted I was there for her reading. The room was so dingy, hung with saris, and smelling of joss sticks. It was hard to make out Mary May in the gloom. I reckon she must have been about ninety. She looked more alien than an alien. I sat in another plastic chair against the wall while Mary May spent ages studying Becky’s hand. Then she sprang back, looking really shocked.
‘What is it?’ said Becky.
I was certain Mary May had seen that Icarus was up to no good. I bit the inside of my mouth, crossed my fingers and hoped this might be a turning point. At last Becky would see she was being conned.
‘You and the man you love are going on a journey,’ said Mary May. ‘A journey that no one – no one of this world – has taken before. I see you have made your decision – you will jump.’
That gave me the shivers.
The old lady patted Becky’s hand. ‘You’re a lucky girl,’ she said. ‘Very lucky.’ Then she looked at me. ‘Come here, dear. Let’s see what your future holds.’
‘No, thanks,’ I said, standing up. ‘I don’t want to.’
Becky said, ‘You can’t get out of it now, Jaz. I’ll wait outside.’
I sat down and reluctantly gave over my hand. Mary May said a lot of hocus-pocus; perhaps it was to sweeten the pill, I don’t know.
Then she looked at me sadly and said, ‘You’re going to lose the boy you love and you will …’
I snatched my hand away and didn’t wait to hear what else she had to say.
‘That was quick,’ said Becky.
‘It’s all a load of rubbish,’ I said.
We walked back along the canal, me trying not to think about the fortune teller, Becky enjoying what she’d been told.
‘Becks,’ I said.
She turned to look at me and the sun caught her hair, which was pushed back from her face. I thought she looked beautiful. I saw her as an astronaut, about to go on a voyage from which there was no return.
‘Nothing,’ I said.
She carried on walking in front of me and I was glad she didn’t see me well up.
When I’m very down these days, I think of those few hours. She was my best friend. Irreplaceable. Gone.
Chapter Thirty-One
The flat was small, I grant you that, and the mini heat-wave didn’t help – even with the windows open the rooms were baking. But it wasn’t either of those factors that made it claustrophobic, as if we were cooped-up battery hens waiting for slaughter. It was the arrival of the two suited men two days later.
It was too hot to sleep. I remember the clock said five in the morning as I wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I was standing by the sink, letting the tap run while staring out onto the graffitied dustbin sheds, when I saw them. They were standing in exactly the same pose, wearing mirrored sunglasses, one otherwise identical suit slightly darker than the other. They were looking up at me. I fetched Alex, who was not best pleased to be woken so early. He looked sleepily out of the lounge window and then stepped back quickly.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘What are they doing here?’
‘I don’t think they’ve come to tell us we’ve won the lottery, that’s for shizzle.’
I jumped. Icarus had quietly materialised behind us.
‘I thought we’d have longer,’ he said.
He sounded despondent.
‘Those are the two characters from central casting who came to the house in Orford,’ I said.
‘They are Doubleday’s handlers,’ said Icarus.
Becky was up now too. She wrapped her arms around Icarus.
‘Handlers? Where?’ she said. ‘How did they find us?’
The cashpoint in Camden Town, I thought.
‘How did they lose Doubleday in the first place?’ said Alex.
‘Doubleday is a hybrid,’ said Icarus. He paused. ‘He was constructed using Troyon’s body.’
Icarus dropped his head. I had seen him look worried but never before had I seen him look sad.
‘Troyon was rare in our race. He possessed more empathy than Ishmael or me. He had been chosen to find and understand this emotion, love. His death put the operation in jeopardy. I was instructed to take his place.’
‘It sounds to me as if you cared for him,’ I said, ‘and your people are supposed to feel no love for anything or anybody.’
‘We are kind to each other. We are not a cruel race, not like humans. Ishmael is one of our wise men. I helped him but I failed Troyon. I led Ishmael out of the citadel back to our craft in the forest and there, to my surprise, he ordered me to stay on Earth and learn about love. Ishmael was second in command and I had to obey. It’s only now that I love that I know how much I miss Ishmael and mourn Troyon. Lazarus’s brother Rex reminded me of Troyon – a kind, gentle man. That was why I let him paint my portrait.’
‘Do you know how Doubleday got away?’
Icarus shook his head.
‘All I know is that he fooled his handlers and escaped their control.’ He paused. ‘Then he came for me.’
‘So why was this cyborg locked in Mrs Berry’s pantry?’ I asked.
‘It was only after the accident that killed Phoebe and Frank that I learned what Doubleday was. What was left of Troyon’s mind had been corrupted and, as Doubleday, he blamed me for all that had happened to him, for not taking his body home. His mind was focused, set on a single thought: he needed a stone to make him whole again. But it would never have worked.’
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘Our stones made clay flesh, a dead boy come alive, but they couldn’t give either Skye or Lazarus the essence of humanity. They lacked all sense of love. A stone wouldn’t work on something that was part electrical circuits. Doubleday was out of control, he was a danger, he had to be stopped. The portrait and the shoes fooled him into thinking I was in the pantry, and lured him in. Darkness was the only way to immobilise him.’
What hadn’t been said still hung there. If those two creeps from central casting were Doubleday’s handlers, where the hell was Doubleday?
Now call me old-fashioned, Mr Jones, but I like to know who we should be rooting for, so I asked Icarus, ‘The two men out there – good or bad?’
‘They are bad.’
‘And while we’re on it … when did you meet Mark? And what is he to you?’
Becky interrupted me. ‘Jaz, leave
it. Come on, why are you asking all these questions? It’s not helping.’
But Icarus seemed unfazed. ‘The day I was sent for trial Mark was assigned to me.’
‘So they knew by then that you were an alien?’
‘Yes. But no one else was ever to find out. The Darkstar Programme’s business is to make sure you, the people of this planet, are kept ignorant of what is out there.’
‘Doubleday – is he a part of the Darkstar Programme?’ I said.
‘Yes, Jaz, don’t be thick, you know he is,’ said Becky. ‘You heard those guys.’
Icarus said, ‘Doubleday was the first cyborg, the most advanced piece of engineering on Earth.’
‘Not the universe?’ I said.
Icarus smiled. ‘You don’t believe this is the only inhabited planet?’
‘Not many aliens have called in to say hello,’ I said.
‘The Darkstar Programme has been making contact with other alien life-forms for over forty-five years. Doubleday was created to be used in war and terrorist situations.’
Then, just when I thought that maybe I would be able to pass stage one in alien-cyborg physics, everything went creepy again.
Becky started to talk to Icarus quietly in a language I’d never heard before.
‘Hold on,’ I said. ‘What are you saying?’
Becky seemed almost surprised I hadn’t understood.
‘Just that I’ll be glad when we’re out of here.’
I think, Mr Jones, that was the first time I realised how deep the love between them was and began to understand something of what Becky had said about not needing a code.
I said to Alex, when we were alone, ‘Who do we trust? Who?’
‘You,’ he said. ‘I trust you. After all this is over – whatever the over is – would you consider, Ms Little, living with me on my humble houseboat?’
‘Yes,’ I said and I kissed him. ‘And yes and yes again.’ And I kissed him again.
Later, we called Mark, told him that Doubleday’s handlers had turned up. He said he needed to speak to Icarus.
I’d a vague hope that the gang that roamed the Darwin Estate might deal with the creeps. They would be fresh pickings for the bullyboys. I watched them circle the two men, then the gang leader went up to them. He was a prize bruiser, all cocky walk and cocky talk. He got within feet of them when, to my surprise and his, he fell backwards. He stood up, looking stunned and didn’t return for a second bout. I wondered then if Doubleday’s handlers were cyborgs too.
‘Don’t they ever need a loo break?’ said Becky.
‘Apparently not,’ I said.
‘They must do. They must eat and drink.’
‘Are they even human?’
The two men made Icarus even more watchful. No more shopping trips for us. Icarus stayed awake, and when he wasn’t with us he was with Becky in their room.
Lying in the dark that night, I said to Alex, ‘It’s not too late for us to leave. We could phone your mum and Tom, tell them what’s going on. They’d come and get us.’
‘I’ve been thinking about that but we can’t. What if anything happened to them? And Becky wouldn’t come. She has her heart set on going with Icarus.’
‘Do you believe him when he talks about his planet?’ I said. ‘Because I don’t know.’
Alex took my hand. ‘Hey, Jaz, think about it. If you had a chance to start again in the Garden of Eden, wouldn’t you take it and make a better world? Not make the same idiotic mistakes we’ve made here? Look at the mess we’re in.’
‘But we only have Icarus’s word about the place he comes from. He could just be feeding us a baloney sandwich. And he’s going to take Becky back to his den and eat her up. It’s not like we can call and ask, “How are you liking it there? Email some photos.”’
I nestled my head in the crook of Alex’s neck.
‘Do you really believe that?’ he said.
‘No. Maybe. Yes.’
‘If I phoned Mum,’ said Alex, ‘it would end with Icarus being rearrested.’
I know it sounds disloyal, but I said, ‘Would that really be so bad?’
We’d been there for four days and four nights. That was all the time I’d had to relish that lovely, expensive furniture. Four days and four nights to try to talk some sense into Becky’s unworldly head. I really tried.
‘It’s not like going to Paris or New York where you can jump on a plane home if you don’t like it. BA doesn’t offer an intergalactic service yet.’
‘I know that, I know,’ she said.
There was no reasoning with her. But I’d known that all along.
I turned on the TV. It was showing an ancient video of The Monkees. The trouble was, I wasn’t a believer.
Becky came into our room on the fifth night, weeping. Icarus had gone. Alex went to look. He wasn’t in the flat and fortunately neither was anybody else. We checked outside and the two suited men weren’t there either. I thought, what if they’ve taken him? And immediately I felt as if a great weight had been lifted from us. Perhaps I’d been wrong. Perhaps Icarus was a gent and had decided to go it alone. Becky was inconsolable. I thought I could cope with that. But after a night of her weeping and wailing, telling us she’d rather die than live without him, I wasn’t so sure anyone could handle, let alone live with, her heartbreak.
When we heard footsteps in the hall the next morning we all froze.
I was certain that Doubleday’s handlers were back and had broken in. Alex stood ready to defend us, then Icarus walked into the room. We must have looked like a bunch of startled deer.
He said, ‘I have to leave tonight.’
‘What shall we do?’ I said.
‘You must stay here. You have all done more than enough for me. I’ve called Mark – he’ll pick you up tonight after I’ve left.’
Becky went to him.
‘I’m staying with you, you know that.’
‘It’s too dangerous, Becky,’ he said. ‘I can’t risk it.’
‘I love you,’ she said.
You know those sugary, sticky moments in films, when the music plays and the couple embrace. Well, no music played, just the couple embraced. It was then that I saw Icarus was crying.
He said, ‘I’ve waited so long to know what love is. The idea of being parted from you, Becky, is unbearable. It physically hurts me. But no, my love, it isn’t safe.’
‘Nothing is,’ said Becky. ‘And I’m not letting you go without me.’
What the hell can anyone say to such marshmallow sentiments?
On the news that morning there was a picture of Icarus. They had aged him up but not so much that he wasn’t recognisable. The news presenter said that Icarus was a youthful-looking man in his early forties.
‘You don’t look more than twenty-three,’ said Alex.
‘It doesn’t matter, it’s still.’
The presenter went on to say that Icarus was extremely volatile, that he was a suspected murderer with links to a terrorist organisation and was on the run. On no account should the general public approach him.
What do the French say? Fait accompli? It was fate, all right, and it was complicated.
Becky wrote a letter to Ruth and Simon explaining her decision. She took great care to make her points. She stressed that me and Alex could have done nothing to prevent what was about to happen and that we were in no way to blame. She also said that there was no way back once she had gone. She read it aloud. It sounded so final, I felt a lump in my throat.
Icarus even wrote a bit at the bottom. I folded it up and put it somewhere safe. When it was dark, they left, taking nothing with them.
I had never seen Becky look as happy as she did when she said goodbye. She was positively alight with love.
She kissed me and told me not to be sad. ‘I’m going on the greatest adventure.’
Those were her last words to me. After what happened, I gave the letter to the police. They lost it. Then they said they’d never had it in the first place
. Alex wasn’t there, I was the only one left – my narrative dismissed.
I’m sorry, Mr Jones, I don’t want to talk any more today.
MATRON OF ST MARY’S HOSPICE, CUMBRIA
Chapter Thirty-Two
Are you a relation, Mr Jones? A friend?
No, Mark has had no visitors – you’re the first. And I’m afraid you’ll be the last. The doctors don’t think he will make it through the night. He was brought in a week ago. He’d been managing by himself and had refused all treatment up to then. Would you like to see him?
We are a small hospice and do our best to keep a family feel to the place. Unfortunately tonight we are very short staffed. When did you last see him? That was some time ago. He will have changed considerably. This is his room, he’s asleep. Do you want to stay here until he wakes? Good, that will be most helpful. Often the dying just need company. I always say that death is like birth, only in reverse. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring the bell.
I think I should warn you, Mr Jones, that the patient has been saying some very peculiar things. The dying often do. I wouldn’t take any notice. Jumbled-up memories, you know, not in any order. Would you like the door left open or shall I close it?
Well, then. I’ll check with you in about half an hour.
MARK KEELE
Chapter Thirty-Three
I know you. I’ve met you before – just can’t place you. Jones, you say? No, that’s not right – that’s not your name.
Where was it …? It was a long time ago, a different life. It’s the drugs, I didn’t want the drugs.
Icarus fell out of the sky. You’re not Icarus, I knew him. I’ve been thinking a lot about him. Are you an alien too? Take off your sunglasses – let me see your eyes.
Don’t leave – please don’t leave. I need to talk. Everyone here thinks I’m away with the fairies. You see, my blood is poisoning me, killing me.
My Side of the Diamond Page 12