After Eden

by Helen Douglas

  She gave me a funny look. “We don’t eat meat because there aren’t any animals left. Not many anyway. But you have plenty.”

  “But Ryan acts like it’s a crime to eat meat.”

  “Yeah, well Ryan has strong feelings about things. He tends to overreact.”

  I felt like I should defend him, but I didn’t want to get into an argument with Cassie. I suspected she would win and leave me feeling stupid.

  “So tell me how you and Connor met.” Cassie grabbed a couple of boxes of vegetarian sausages and threw them in the cart.

  “We met on the first day of primary school, but we didn’t become best friends until a couple of years later. Everyone else was making cards for Father’s Day, but the teaching assistant took us onto the school field to paint landscapes. We both knew why we’d been removed from the lesson. We would have been six.”

  “His father died from cancer, didn’t he?”

  “That’s right. His father died a few months before mine. A few years later his mother moved them into Perran and I didn’t see him for a couple of years, not until we both started at the secondary school. But it was like no time had passed at all. We were so pleased to see each other again.”

  She tossed bags of tortilla chips and dips into the cart. “What else should I get?” she asked.

  “Some sort of dessert. And some bread.”

  Cassie grabbed a strawberry cheesecake and a baguette.

  “Is he popular?” she asked, pushing the cart toward the checkout.

  “I wouldn’t say he was popular, but he’s not unpopular either. He’s got friends in astronomy club and in surf club. He’s hard not to like.”

  “I wish I could meet him.”

  I helped her unload the food onto the conveyor belt.

  “You should have said something before. It could easily have been arranged.” I smiled to myself. “I’m sure he would have loved to meet you too. You’re just his type.”

  Her eyes flashed. “What do you mean?”

  “Connor likes blonds. That’s why I never really accepted Ryan’s idea that he is into me. I mean, look at the evidence. Megan is the girl he’s taking to the ball. She’s a voluptuous blond. His favorite movie stars and singers are blond. You’re right up his alley.”

  “Why would you say something like that?” she said. “That’s not funny. It’s disgusting.”

  I bit my lip, confused. “I’m sorry. I know that technically he’s old enough to be your grandfather, but right now he’s sixteen and …”

  “My grandfather?” she interrupted. “Ryan hasn’t told you, has he?”

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  She glanced at the cashier, then leaned in close to me and whispered in my ear. “Your friend Connor Penrose is my great-grandfather.”

  It was too cold to have a barbecue. The sea fog had rolled inland, chilling the air and obscuring the sky, just as Ryan had predicted. Ben cooked the chicken and the sausages in the oven and we ate at the kitchen table instead.

  “You didn’t tell her who I am,” Cassie said to Ryan.

  “I’m not supposed to tell her anything.”

  “But she knows when we’re from and why we’re here. Why did you fail to mention my relationship to Connor?”

  “It didn’t seem important. And you’re always reminding me not to reveal any more than necessary.”

  Cassie turned to me. “I’m here to ensure there is no Plan B.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re here to prevent Connor from discovering Eden. But, like you said, in many ways it would be simpler to kill him. Strangely enough, I’m quite strongly opposed to the thought of my great-grandfather being killed. It might cause all sorts of problems for me, such as the nonexistence of my parents and grandparents. So, you see, Ryan is here to make sure Connor doesn’t discover Eden and I’m here to make sure that, if he fails, there is no Plan B.”

  “And I’m the mission leader,” said Ben. “So let’s clear away the dinner dishes and go over the plans for tomorrow.”

  Once we’d cleared away the dirty plates and empty serving dishes, Cassie brewed a pot of coffee and the four of us sat back at the table.

  “The limo picks me up at seven thirty,” said Ryan. “And Matt and Connor will be picked up ten minutes later. Then we get Amy, Megan, and Eden. All six of us should be at the school by eight.”

  Cassie glanced at her notes. “The ball begins at eight and ends at eleven. Sunset is at nine twenty-two, but it will be at least another hour before it begins to get dark.”

  “We’re going to be able to enjoy the first couple of hours,” said Ryan, smiling at me.

  “From sunset until the end of the ball, you will not let Connor out of your sight,” said Ben.

  “Eden will be detectable between ten thirty and eleven o’clock,” said Cassie. “That’s a very small window. Will you stay at the ball all evening?”

  “I think so,” I said. “There are usually a few after-parties to choose from. Some people leave early for the parties, but most people stay till the end of the ball.”

  “It’s those after-parties I’m worried about,” said Ben. “When you’re at the ball, you’re inside. I can’t see Connor discovering Eden at the ball. But if you leave early for a party, all bets are off. Maybe he’ll find a telescope. Maybe someone’s dad will be looking through a telescope. The possibilities are endless.”

  “Haven’t you discussed your plans for after the party?” said Cassie.

  “Yes,” I said. “A couple of people are holding parties. But a lot of people just head down to the beach for an hour.”

  “It’s what happens after the ball that really concerns me,” said Ben. “We don’t know where you’ll be.”

  “Eden and I will be wherever Connor is. I’ll call you as soon as I know the after-party location,” said Ryan. “And you guys can drop off my car somewhere nearby.”

  “Try to keep Connor at the ball until the end,” said Cassie.

  “And keep him away from telescopes at all costs,” said Ben.

  I giggled suddenly. That was what it all came down to: this mission from the future had the simple directive of keeping Connor away from telescopes.

  Everyone stared at me.

  “What’s the joke?” asked Cassie.

  I shrugged. “Sorry. It just seemed so …”

  “This is not a joke,” said Cassie.

  “Of course not,” I said, trying to sound serious.

  “In many ways, it’s good to have you on board,” said Ben. “Because you can help enormously by not arguing with Connor. In the first timeline, it was an argument with you that caused him to storm off and end up discovering the planet. So bite your tongue. Agree to anything he asks.”

  “Within reason,” said Ryan.

  “I’ll try not to upset him,” I said.

  Cassie turned back to her notes. “We have a viewing night out on the Lizard Peninsula tomorrow evening with the South Cornwall Amateur Astronomy Group. That’s about twenty-five miles from Perran.”

  “Connor doesn’t drive,” I said. “The only friend he has who does is Ryan.”

  “I think we can safely assume that he won’t be hitching a ride out to the Lizard,” she said. “Which is confusing. He doesn’t own a telescope himself, the school astronomy club doesn’t have a viewing night for two weeks, and I’m not aware of any other active clubs locally.”

  “It has to be someone else’s telescope at one of the parties after the ball,” said Ben. “He says in his autobiography that he discovered the planet while he was at a party.”

  “Maybe we changed the future enough when we stopped him buying the telescope for his birthday,” I said.

  “That’s quite possible. But we can’t assume anything,” said Ben. “We discussed this before. Listen in on his conversations.”

  “Finally,” said Cassie, running her finger down the page of notes in front of her, “we’ll set the coordinates for midnight tomorr
ow. That gives you an hour to make your way back here, Ryan. It’s only a ten-minute drive, so you shouldn’t be pushed for time.”

  “Midnight,” he repeated, catching my eye across the table. “Why not a few hours later?”

  “It’s safer to travel at night,” said Cassie. “And frankly, once the viewing window has passed, there’s no reason to wait.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amy, Megan, and I dressed at Megan’s. When we had applied the finishing touches to our hair and makeup, Megan’s mum took photos of the three of us in the backyard. She photographed us alone and together, then humored us for a while as we goofed around, pulling faces and posing for silly shots. Megan and Amy were giddy with excitement—the evening still lay ahead of us, long anticipated, ripe with possibilities. I smiled and laughed along with the others, reminding myself that this should be one of the happiest nights of my life, trying to forget that I would have to spend the whole evening making sure I didn’t argue with Connor and inadvertently help to bring about the end of life on Earth.

  We viewed the photos on Megan’s laptop while we waited for the limo to arrive. There was a photo of Megan alone by a blue ceanothus tree: her lilac dress, floor-length, shimmering satin, like the sky at dawn; her hair curled and pinned up on top of her head with small curls framing her face; her smile hopeful and innocent.

  There was one of Amy standing next to a bench by a rosebush. She had one foot up on the bench and she’d pushed her skirt up high enough to reveal a black garter snug around her thigh. She was winking at the camera. Megan’s mum appeared to think she was just being mischievous and ironic. We knew better.

  There was one of me in my vintage, beaded sea-green dress. It was shorter than the others’—flapper style—and I’d pinned up my hair so that it resembled a nineteen-twenties bob. It was very different from everyone else’s dresses, but it suited my lean shape perfectly. My smile, however, was more sad than hopeful. Like my dress, I seemed nostalgic. Out of time.

  There were other photos too. Megan and I with our arms around each other, grinning stupidly at the camera. The three of us with exaggerated pouts. Megan with her parents.

  We were still viewing them when the limo pulled up outside and the driver sounded the horn.

  “Bye, Mum!” Megan yelled, hiking up her dress and almost running out the door.

  The limousine was silver with white leather seats. Ryan, Connor, and Matt were already inside, each dressed in tuxedos with bow ties and cummerbunds to match our dresses. Matt was holding a half-empty bottle of vodka. He passed the bottle to me.

  “Not for me, thanks,” I said, passing the bottle on to Megan.

  “Someone still hungover?” said Connor.

  That was when I remembered that I was angry with Connor for ratting on me to Miranda.

  “About that,” I said, trying to control my voice. “Why did you tell your mother that I spent Thursday afternoon drinking vodka in Perran Park?”

  “I thought you might have alcohol poisoning,” he said, his expression wide-eyed and earnest. “You don’t normally drink and you downed a lot of bottles in a short amount of time.”

  “Oh, please,” I said. “Ryan was with me. He drove me home.”

  “Which—no offense, Ryan—was also a bad idea.”

  “Connor!” I began. “If you were concerned about me, you could have called Ryan. Or me, for that matter.”

  “I was too busy throwing up myself. All I was able to do was tell my mum that I thought you might be sick.”

  “You know what Miranda’s like!”

  Ryan kicked me gently from across the limousine. I looked up and caught his eye. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head.

  “I wanted to make sure you didn’t pass out in your room and choke on your own vomit.”

  I literally bit down on my tongue and counted for ten seconds. Then I composed my face into a grateful smile. “That was very thoughtful of you, Connor. Thank you.”

  “Where’s the other bottle?” asked Amy.

  Matt removed a medium bottle of vodka from the inner pocket of his tux. Amy reached out for the bottle, but he pushed her hand away gently.

  “Let me,” he said.

  Amy laughed and hiked up her dress, revealing her lacy black garter.

  “Close your eyes, boys,” said Matt.

  They didn’t.

  Matt slid the bottle of vodka under Amy’s garter and checked that it was snug against her thigh.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, pulling her dress back down.

  “Why are you wearing a bottle of vodka under your dress?” asked Ryan.

  Amy raised her eyebrows. “How else are we going to smuggle alcohol into the ball? They’ll check your jackets and our bags. But there’s no way they’re going to check my thighs!”

  Mr. Peterson, the deputy headmaster, was standing at the entrance to the school cafeteria, flanked on either side by Mrs. Link and Mr. Chinn. The two men were dressed in the same suits they wore to school every day. Mrs. Link, however, was dressed in a pink cocktail dress that showed rather too much of her ample bosom and the crepey skin of her neckline.

  “Link is looking rather glamorous tonight,” Ryan murmured, raising an eyebrow.

  Matt laughed. “I think I might have to ask her to dance. Imagine being pressed up close against those.”

  Connor made a puking sound. “Enough.”

  The cafeteria had been transformed from the usual yellow plastic tables with molded white chairs and harsh fluorescent lighting into something actually quite striking. If you had a good imagination—or had had a few drinks—you might be able to make believe you were in a restaurant in a luxury hotel rather than a glammed up school cafeteria. The tables were covered with heavy white linen tablecloths, and each table had a simple glass vase with a single pink rose. Pink and white confetti was sprinkled across the table like cherry blossoms. Shadows flickered on the walls and the ceiling; hundreds of white tea lights placed in pink holders were dotted around the room, giving the whole place a rosy glow.

  “This looks amazing,” I said to Amy, who was part of the leavers’ ball committee.

  “Doesn’t it?”

  Out of habit and nostalgia, we chose our usual lunch spot by the exit. A table for six. I looked around. The tables were mostly full. Year Ten prefects were our waiters, coming around to take our orders. Ryan and I both ordered the only vegetarian option on the menu—some sort of pasta dish. The meat-eaters had a choice of fish, chicken, or beef. As I watched my friends order their meals, I leaned back in my chair feeling utterly content. This was perfect. School and exams were behind me; I was sitting in a pink and white dream with all of my classmates, sharing a table with my best friends, sitting across the table from the best-looking boy in the universe. Later on, I hoped, we would dance. I glanced up at Ryan, who was smiling at me with his big, happy grin. I didn’t allow myself to think any farther forward than that night. I wanted to enjoy the feeling of contentment, the thrill of the here and now.

  “I can’t believe that this is the last time all of us will be together,” Megan was saying. “In September Matt and Amy will be going to college in Truro and …”

  “Stop,” I said. “No nostalgic comments. That can come later. Let’s enjoy being here all together tonight.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Connor, raising his glass of fruit punch. “Here’s to the end of school, the best friends a guy could wish for, and a brilliant future ahead.”

  “Aww,” said Matt, leaning in to hug Connor. “You’re so sweet.”

  One of the Year Ten prefects arrived back at our table with a tray of bread and soup. Our first course. Surprisingly, it looked nothing like the watery gruel served up at lunchtime on a daily basis. The rolls were different shapes: some were round wheat rolls, others were star-shaped with walnuts, and others had little pieces of tomato and olive in them.

  “If they can produce food like this, why have we eaten crap for the last fiv
e years?” moaned Megan. “It’s the same cooks.”

  “They had a way bigger budget,” said Amy. “Like ten times what they get to spend per head on a school day. And the menu had to be approved by the leavers’ ball committee.”

  “Well they did a good job,” said Ryan. “This actually looks edible.”

  Amy smiled happily. She and her drama-club friends had spent hours organizing the ball.

  “But the big question is where do we go after the ball?” said Matt.

  * * *

  The dance was in the auditorium. Like the cafeteria it was decorated in pink and white, but rather than candles, the room had been rigged up with disco lights and a strobe. A cover band was supplying the music for the first hour and then a DJ for the rest of the evening. Amy and Matt went straight onto the dance floor. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Chloe Mason heading our way. I tensed up. With only a few hours left, I did not want to have to share my time with Ryan. But then she slipped her arms around Tyler Cook and dragged him out onto the dance floor.

  “Come on,” said Ryan, reaching for my hand.

  His hand felt warm and strong. The band was playing an upbeat rock song, too fast for slow dancing, so we just danced next to Amy and Matt. Connor didn’t dance. Ever. Ryan kept repositioning himself so that he was facing Connor.

  “It’s not nine thirty yet!” I yelled in his ear. “You’re not on duty. You can enjoy yourself for a bit longer.”

  “Sorry. Force of habit. And I am enjoying myself.”

  The cover band started playing a song I recognized from the radio and pretty much everyone came onto the dance floor. The door to the corridor was open, but the auditorium was hot and stuffy. Megan pushed her way through the crowd to join the rest of us.

  “I can’t persuade Connor to dance,” she said. “I don’t know what he’s afraid of. All he has to do is shuffle from foot to foot. That’s all Matt is doing.”

  “I am not shuffling from foot to foot,” said Matt.

  “Silly me. You’re also making infinitesimal movements with your arms. So while it looks like they’re merely hanging by your sides, they’re actually dancing along with the rest of your body.”