The Death House

by Sarah Pinborough

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Tom find a vantage point but my focus is on Jake, dominating the empty floor. His jaw is tight and his whole body is taut and tense, ready to go.

  ‘Remember, no marks on the fac—’

  I don’t give him time to finish. I let all the rage and terror flaring up from my stomach rush to my fists and launch myself at him with a howl, pulling one arm back and punching him hard on the cheek. Fuck his no-marks-on-the-face rule. Fuck all the rules.

  He reels backwards, one hand clutching at his bleeding mouth, his eyes wide with surprise. My knuckles throb. ‘What the fuck? I said no—’

  I crouch and run towards him, barrelling into his torso and taking him to the ground. We fall hard and all the air bursts out of him in a gasp as he takes my weight. We roll around on the floor, trying to get the better of each other, and the room spins. Jake’s bigger and more powerful than me, but he doesn’t have my anger – not right now. My hand is under his chin pushing his head back as I grunt and growl like an animal.

  I glimpse Tom and Albi now standing together, looking down at us, shocked. My scalp stings as Jake grabs a handful of my hair and I let go of his face and grab some of his. This fight is a mess. We’re too full of pent-up emotions to think.

  ‘What are you so fucking scared of?’ I hiss as we wrestle, all arms and legs and missed punches and wayward kicks. My jaw is clenched so tight I think my teeth might shatter. I land a soft punch into his stomach as he kicks me hard only an inch or so away from my balls.

  ‘Are you fucking mad?’ he says as he wriggles away from me. His lip isn’t cut too badly but it’s already swelling up and the exertion is making it bleed like a bastard all over his T-shirt, the floor and me as he spits his bloody words into my face.

  ‘What is your fucking problem?’ I snarl.

  We’ve only been fighting for a couple of minutes but he’s breathing hard and so am I, sweat sticking my clothes to me. This isn’t like the movies. We’re knackered already.

  We stare at each other while we let the air rip hot from our lungs. My arms tremble and ache. I’m slowly cooling down, my anger burned away. Once he’s got over his shock he’ll pummel me into the ground. And now that I’ve broken the rules, he won’t hold back. I’m tired and I don’t want to fight any more. I haul myself to my feet and Jake does the same.

  ‘I’m sorry about Clara and Georgie,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry you think we made you look like a dick. It wasn’t on purpose.’

  ‘You don’t know what I think.’ He’s smarting.

  I shrug.

  ‘Whatever. You shouldn’t have taken it out on Will and Louis. That was a shitty thing to do. So I think what we did back was fair. Your sheets dried out. Their stuff is still wrecked. You win.’ I pause for a breath and lean against a table. ‘Why don’t we just call a truce? Before things get out of hand.’ My chest aches as I speak. Muscles all over my body are screaming at me. This fighting shit is hard.

  He stares at me. Albi and Tom’s eyes move from me to Jake to me and then back to Jake again.

  ‘Maybe he’s got a point, man,’ Albi says quietly. ‘This could go crazy if it carries on.’

  He doesn’t need to elaborate. The invisible threat of Matron hangs like a pall in the room.

  ‘Just stay out of my way,’ Jake says, eventually. I nod. My shoulders slump as the tension vanishes and I turn and walk away.

  ‘Oh, but Toby—’

  I turn back and his fist comes out of nowhere, smacking me right on my cheekbone. For a minute I don’t even feel it, just an intense shuddering that runs right down my spine and into my feet. My vision goes black, a night sky swirling with colourful stars. My neck whips back and I stagger, unsteady, my hip banging into the record player table. I stand there, gasping, and wait for the world to right itself.

  ‘Fuck.’ My face is going numb and the word is thick on my tongue.

  ‘Now we have a truce,’ Jake says. He nods at Albi and they walk out. I’m still reeling, but I force my legs to move under me. If me and Tom stay in here, then I look like the loser. I’m going out alongside Jake.

  Fourteen

  The night is bright and clear and so bitterly cold that, even with thick sweaters on, we take our blankets with us over the wall. I’ve got two pairs of socks on and Clara’s wearing leggings under her jeans, and we still gasp as the freezing air makes us cough. If we’re making out tonight, it won’t be until we get back to the house, and although I think about it a lot, I don’t mind waiting. After the blood test I just want to leave the house behind and feel free. In some ways I don’t even mind my throbbing face and slowly closing eye. It hurts like a bitch, but at least I know I’m alive. I’m determined not to be dragged back down into constant dread after that blood test. It might be nothing. Nothing to worry about, that’s what the nurse had said. Even if she was bullshitting, I’m clinging to it. For now I feel fine. I always feel fine with Clara. It’s like she’s in a bubble where none of this touches her and she’s let me share it.

  The blankets slow us down a bit, but once we’re on the beach we run into the cave and laugh, happy to be out of the cutting sea breeze laced with shards of ice.

  ‘Fuck, I’ve never known it so cold!’ she says as we settle down on the rocks that have become our night-time bench. ‘This weather is mental.’

  She’s right. The rain isn’t unusual but I don’t remember ever experiencing this kind of cold. It’s not English weather. Not these days. Not in our lifetimes.

  We get the food out of our pockets before wrapping the blankets around our shoulders. They don’t make that much difference, to be honest, but I feel cosier even though my ears are stinging. Clara chatters about the fight, telling me how cool the others all think I was to do it, but I’m only half-listening. I just like being with her listening to the steady sound of the sea and her voice like music floating on it.

  ‘I still can’t believe you punched him in the face,’ she says, putting the lit candle down by our feet behind the protection of a sea-worn stone. ‘I wish I’d seen it.’

  ‘I figured it was the only way I stood a chance.’ She’s impressed and it feels good. In fact, everyone in the house has looked at me a bit differently since the fight. I stood my ground with Jake. He’s still top dog but it’s not the same any more. Thankfully, the only people who didn’t appear to give a shit about our bruises were the nurses. I guess they don’t care. We’re dying anyway. We had a fight and sorted shit out. What’s the point of giving us trouble for it? At least, I’m hoping that’s the case. Maybe they know my blood is fucking up and so it’s not worth punishing me. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

  ‘I knew he wouldn’t beat you up. I knew you’d fight back.’

  ‘I just hope it’s done now. It’s been fucking horrible the last few days.’

  ‘How’s your eye?’

  I shrug. ‘Sore. I can’t see out of it properly. Bet I look like a special.’

  She pulls me down and kisses my battered face. Even though her lips are soft against my tight, swollen skin, I flinch a bit.

  ‘I think it’s pretty sexy.’ She laughs before shivering and huddling closer.

  I like when she says stuff like that, and I slide one hand under her blanket and around her waist. Even though I’m freezing, just touching her gives me a semi. I can’t help it. I wonder how girls manage to switch the sex stuff on and off. How do they control it?

  ‘How many more nights until the boat, do you think?’ she says. ‘I can’t wait to be somewhere hot. I want to be a warm-ocean mermaid, not an icy-sea one.’

  ‘Can’t be too long. We should practise with that little boat one night. When it’s not so cold. Make sure it’ll hold us.’

  I want to tell her about Matron’s office and how I think we might be able to find out when the boat is coming, but I can’t. That would mean either telling her about the blood tests or lying about
why I was in there, and I don’t want to do either. If I tell her, she’ll worry and that will make me worry. I want things to stay just as they are. I don’t want her to be looking at me and searching for symptoms. I just want her to think I’m cool and hot. I almost laugh at that. Cool and hot. In reality I’m probably a perfect mix of that – somewhere around lukewarm.

  We’ve just finished our sandwiches when suddenly Clara’s spine stiffens slightly.

  ‘What?’ I say, nervous. Has she heard something? Is there someone on the beach?

  Without speaking, she drops the tinfoil sandwich wrapping, gets to her feet and moves to stand in the mouth of the cave. ‘What is that?’

  I don’t know what she’s talking about and so I join her, my legs stiff and cold.

  ‘Look,’ she breathes. ‘The sky.’

  And then I see it. Across the horizon, a little above the sea – a strip of green dances like fire against the night sky. It’s bright, almost luminous in places, a flame that darts and licks the darkness along the whole edge of the Earth, wispy trails bursting from it and reaching upwards.

  Without saying a word we take each other’s hands and walk out across the shingle, down to the water’s edge.

  ‘It’s beautiful.’ My whisper is carried away on the rustle of the water but it doesn’t matter. She knows it’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful it makes my chest tighten. We tilt our heads back, oblivious to the cold. The rough blanket against my neck feels too earthy for something so ethereal.

  I don’t know how long we stand there, holding hands and staring upwards, eyes wide and mouths open. A second strip of green appears above the first, and then from the edges of that, purple, bright and incandescent, leaks out to the rim of the universe like ink seeping across paper. The stars peek here and there through the wash of moving colours as if they, too, are fascinated. It must be at least half an hour before we even look at each other, we’re so rapt with the wonder of it.

  ‘It’s magical,’ Clara says.

  And it is. All the magic and mystery and delight of the universe are there for only us to see. I squeeze her hand tighter. The colours are starting to thin, melting back into the ordinary night. The show is coming to an end. I feel elated, savouring every last twist of green as it vanishes until suddenly we are back in the darkness with only starlight reflecting on the glittering black sea.

  ‘How can anyone be afraid with that much brilliance in the world?’ Clara says softly, still looking at the sky. ‘Nature is perfect. Why be scared of it?’

  It is only then, as I see the sadness in her face, that I realise Clara has moments of dread, too. That so much of her joy of life comes from her fear of death. Perhaps she doesn’t wallow in it like I do, but it’s there, somewhere under the surface.

  ‘A mermaids’ rave,’ I say.

  ‘What?’ She looks at me, her eyes bright, the shadow of darkness gone as fast as it came.

  ‘Somewhere under the water the mermaids are celebrating something brilliant. That’s what changed the sky. Magical fireworks for mermaids.’

  She grins and I know she likes it.

  ‘I’m fucking freezing,’ I say as I try and move my feet, which are now blocks of ice in my trainers. My socks feel damp. The sea has crept up on us. It’ll be getting lighter soon.

  ‘Me, too. Let’s head back.’ We collect the candle from the cave and stroll up to the road, arms and blankets around each other making us stumble and giggle here and there. Her head bumps into mine and I wince.

  ‘I think some of the mermaids’ magic hit your face,’ she says. ‘Your eye’s gone the same colours.’

  It’s only when we’re back in the house and have crept upstairs that she turns and looks at me for a long moment. ‘That was so special,’ she says. ‘Wasn’t it?’

  I nod. I’m not good at talking about stuff like this, but I know what she means.

  ‘Everything’s so special. We should remember that.’

  She reaches up and kisses me. I wonder if this means we’re going to do ‘it’ soon. I know I shouldn’t be thinking about that after what we saw on the beach – I know she’s meaning it in a spiritual way – but at the same time I can’t help it. I really badly want to do it with her. Even if I fuck it up. Especially now, after the retest. There are more mysteries in the world than the one we just saw in the sky.

  She kisses me harder, pushes one of my willing hands up under her sweatshirt, and for the first time, her hand rubs against the front of my jeans. I think I’m going to explode. She breaks away after a moment, smiling. We’re both panting a little. My vision’s as cloudy as it was after Jake punched me, but this time it’s not my face throbbing.

  ‘It’s getting light,’ she says. We’re out of time for tonight. She kisses me again, but it’s short and sweet.

  ‘Goodnight, Mermaid King,’ she whispers. And then she’s running up to her dorm and lost in the darkness.

  ‘Maybe we’re all going upstairs,’ Tom says. He’s lying on his bed, hands under his head and legs crossed, staring up at the ceiling. ‘Maybe that’s it.’

  I glance at Louis who’s fiddling with his washbag, and we share a moment of wary fear. The sanatorium has become more real to us since we were hauled into Matron’s study. Even with Clara and the Northern Lights and the cave and our escape plan, I’ve had some quiet moments when I’ve wanted to throw up just thinking about it. As far as I know, no one else has been retested, unless they have and they’re just not saying either. But I don’t think so. Two people can maybe keep a secret but any more than that and we’d have heard something. Someone would talk. So maybe it is just me and Louis and there must be something wrong with us no matter what that nurse said. People always say there’s nothing to worry about whether there is or isn’t.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind that so much,’ Will says. ‘We’d all be together. I don’t think I’d be so afraid if we were all together.’ He looks even younger tonight, his face all pinched with worry. ‘It’s the being all on my own that freaks me out.’ He pauses. ‘I wish they’d let our mums visit.’

  ‘Can we stop talking about it?’ I feign boredom but my heart is racing and my skin clammy. I hear it makes your eyes bleed. I wish Will could just keep his mouth shut sometimes.

  ‘You should come to church,’ Ashley says. His eyes dart up at Will from where he’s folding his jumper and jeans on his chair. ‘You’re never alone with God.’

  Will stares at him, dumbfounded, and then after a moment bursts into a giggle. ‘I’m not that afraid.’ I laugh then and me, Tom and Louis all exchange looks that send Ashley back into his shell of invisibility. Most of the time we all pretend he’s not there and it works best for everyone.

  ‘My feet just won’t warm up,’ Will mutters to himself. ‘I’m going to sleep in my socks. They should give us extra blankets in this weather. Maybe I’ll find that nice nurse and ask her for some tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s weird, isn’t it?’ Louis gets into bed. ‘I never knew it got this cold in the north.’

  I’m not cold, but then I’ve probably grown more used to it from going out at night with Clara. However chilly the house gets, it can’t match the sheet of ice that cuts in from the sea in the dark.

  ‘I still want to know where they’ve gone,’ Tom says. ‘What are we supposed to do in the mornings now?’

  The teachers left after lunch. We were sent to our dorms and through the glass we watched them climb into a series of windowless vans, clutching one holdall each. They were chatting and laughing and it made my heart hurt. They were getting out. Returning to whatever their befores were. They didn’t even glance back at the house as they climbed into the waiting vehicles. Matron said nothing about it at tea even though the whole room was whispering quietly about what it might mean, as she patrolled up and down the line of tables. My fight with Jake was forgotten. The only thing that mattered was figuring out why the teachers h
ad gone.

  ‘I think a lot of the nurses left, too,’ Louis says, his tone reflective. ‘There weren’t that many teachers. I think some of them were nurses in their own clothes.’

  I can’t imagine the nurses having their own clothes. In my head they’ve come out of some factory somewhere in their starched uniforms, clocks ticking where their hearts should be, moulded faces impassive. Not human at all. Except maybe the one who spoke to us.

  I try and zone it out of my thinking. I concentrate on Clara and how she touched me last night. It doesn’t take much concentration, to be honest. Clara buzzes around inside my head all day in one way or another. If I’m not crapping myself about the sanatorium, then I’m thinking about her. Even when I am shitting it, I’m still thinking about her. Will she go out with Jake when I’m gone? I can’t imagine her with anyone else. I can’t imagine me with anyone else. I can’t imagine the house without her.

  It’s the young nurse who comes to give us our vitamins. She’s the only one I can imagine as a real person rather than just a nurse, but since the retest she makes me feel uncomfortable. As she bustles in and passes around the small paper cups of pills, I’m sure there’s pity in the smile she gives Louis and then me. I don’t meet her eyes. I’m scared of what I might see there. I want it to be dark. I want to be with Clara. I slip the pill between my lip and gum and swallow the water. I’m thankful when she moves on.

  ‘Why have the teachers gone?’ Will blurts out as he takes his from her tray. ‘They all left. Is something bad going to happen?’

  Even Tom sits up to stare at him. We never talk to the nurses. Will looks so forlorn and I realise how worried he is. How much the dread’s gripped him.

  ‘Of course not,’ the nurse says, her tone kind. ‘There’s just bad weather coming and they’re changing shifts. New teachers are on their way. They’re leaving a bit early in case the storm hits and they can’t get home. A lot of the nurses have gone, too.’ She smiles, warm and soft, and ruffles Will’s hair. ‘The new ones’ll be here in a couple of days. Think of it as half-term or something.’