I look into the gloom, terrified I’m going to see the dark shape of Matron sitting behind her desk, all sharp teeth and monstrous shining eyes, but the chair is empty. It’s just an ordinary room. After quietly closing the door, I creep across and flick on the desk light, squinting in the brightness before hurrying to the key rack and searching the labels for the right one. It’s an old key, long and silver with a looped circle at the end as if it should lead to some magical place or open a treasure box. It’s cold in my hand and my head buzzes and I feel sick just looking at it. When I bring it back everything will have changed.
I put it in my pocket and quickly scan the rotas on the wall but can’t see anything about the boat, and for a moment I panic, my eyes running over names and times that don’t really make any sense to me, and then I glance at the wall calendar. My heart races as I fix on one word, carefully written in blue marker in the box of Thursday the tenth – Delivery.
Realisation dawns on me that I have no idea what day it is. I look for a reference point, my mind racing, and then I see it. ‘Teachers’. The day the teachers left. I count forward from there. It’s Saturday today. Tomorrow more teachers arrive, according to the calendar, and the boat comes one week tonight. My heart races again. The boat is coming sooner than we thought. After tonight I’m going to want to be as far away from here as possible. Somewhere we can put all of this behind us.
I turn and reach for the desk-lamp switch again and then I see it. A sheet of paper with my name and Louis’ on it, typed in capitals. My hands shake as I pick it up, scanning the writing there, trying to make sense of the medical jargon filling the page. Only when I reach the final short paragraph do I understand. I read it three times, staring at the words and half-expecting them to change as I read. I can’t breathe. I don’t know how to feel. I can’t actually believe what I’m seeing.
Clara and Will and the cave and the key are waiting for me, so I take the sheet and photocopy it, flinching at the delay as the machine warms up, and then at the noise, and finally I put the original back where I found it. The copy is warm as I hastily fold and pocket it. My brain screams too many thoughts at me. Me and Clara. Me and Louis. All the others. The boat. Escape. I want to sit down and get my breath back but there’s no time. Not yet.
Tonight first, I think as I switch off the light and fumble my way back out into the hallway in the dark. The paper in my pocket hasn’t changed that. I have to get through tonight first.
They’re ready and by the kitchen window, Will so small even in his thick jumper and coat. Clara has put two pairs of socks on his hands to keep them warm. His eyes are shining, though, as we help him carefully out into the frosty air. The clear sky has made for a cold night, but he doesn’t appear to mind. He gasps as we open the gate which thankfully doesn’t squeak or squeal half as much as I’d expected it to, and seeing his joy reminds me of the sense of freedom I felt the first time me and Clara climbed the wall. How alive I felt, for the first time since arriving at the house.
It’s a slow journey down to the beach. Will’s walk is barely more than a shuffle and every few metres one of his legs buckles a bit, but he’s determined to keep going without a piggyback.
‘The sea!’ he says as we stand at the top of the jagged path, the wind beating at our faces. ‘Look at it!’
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ Clara smiles. The dark surface winks and sparkles at us with reflected starlight. Will nods, his face glowing with his grin. He’s forgotten the blood. He’s forgotten what’s happening. He’s totally in the moment of this adventure.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘There’s more.’ We carefully pick our way down, going slowly even though me and Clara know the way so well we could run with our eyes shut and still be safe. We guide Will, telling him where to put his feet and where to avoid, but holding him tightly enough that we know he’s not going to fall.
He’s panting by the time we reach the shingle and there’s a horrible liquid rattle in his breathing but he doesn’t appear to notice. I’m glad we brought him out tonight. The nurses will come for him tomorrow, I’m sure of it.
‘The wind is crazy!’ he calls at me, his eyes streaming. My nose is running and I nod back and we laugh at how insane it is to be battered and pushed this way and that by Mother Nature.
‘Let’s get to the cave.’
It feels a little like home now, this rocky secret room that has been just mine and Clara’s, and as she lights the stub of the candle, I sit Will down on the rocks by the entrance and wrap the blanket around his shoulders. I can see in his face that he’s a little overwhelmed by it all. In awe. It makes me proud, even though the cave really isn’t ours at all.
‘What do you do down here all night?’ Will asks. ‘Look at the sea?’
Clara glances at me and her mouth twitches. Will’s so young he doesn’t even think about us making out. Not in any real way. That’s all part of a future he’s been robbed of.
‘Just stuff,’ she says, unwrapping his sandwiches. They’re small triangles and she’s cut the crusts off to make them easier for him to eat. They look like something from a posh tea party. Probably the sort that featured a lot in Clara’s before. ‘We talk. We look at the sea. Toby tells me about the mermaids.’
‘What mermaids?’ He takes a small nibble from the edge of the bread but struggles to chew it.
‘They live in the depths of the sea,’ Clara says. ‘And sometimes they come up to the water’s edge to imagine what it’s like to be human and walk on the land. Only at night, though. They stay so they can watch the sunrise and then the tide comes in and carries them back out into the water.’ Will stares at her. Her voice is soft and beautiful. I’m afraid that I might cry while watching them. I can’t let that happen. I don’t remember crying much before. Not since I was a little kid. I think it’s the report on me and Louis that’s making me want to cry the most. It’s unlocked something inside me. My brain and heart are stretching in too many directions on this dark night. My throat aches and tightens. I force myself to eat, my jaw chewing on cold bread that only makes my mouth drier. I want something to drink but it isn’t time for that yet.
‘This is a mermaid’s cave,’ Clara continues, one arm round Will, ‘and you’re sitting on a mermaid’s seat.’
‘Mermaid’s aren’t real.’ He’s smiling, though. He shrugs. ‘But it’s a nice story.’
‘Oh, they so are. And you know what?’
‘What?’
It’s then that I see it. The first glow of green on the horizon as it licks upwards in neon strands. My eyes widen and my food and my tears are forgotten. The lights are coming back. It’s perfect. It couldn’t be more perfect. We wanted to give Will a brilliant night and the sky is our ally, offering us this gift.
‘They have these fantastic parties down on the seabed. They drink mermaid wine from conch shells.’
‘Clara, look,’ I cut in. ‘It’s happening again.’
The green is being joined by a wash of pink and yellow spreading up from the horizon and into the night sky. It’s like looking into the universe. For a moment, I nearly forget the paper in my pocket that changes everything, forget that Will is dying, forget what me and Clara have planned. We’re absorbed in the colours swirling over us, so beautiful.
Will’s mouth falls open as he stares. I can see half-chewed bread mushed up in it. I can’t see in the dark if there’s blood there, too. I don’t want to know. It doesn’t matter any more.
‘What is that?’ he whispers. I pull him up and we move to the mouth of the cave. Clara gets the flasks from her bag and joins us.
‘Mermaid magic,’ I say. ‘They’re having a ball down there. A celebration.’ I don’t know if he’s listening and it doesn’t matter. We stand in silence, Will propped up between us on his unstable legs. His body jerks occasionally but he doesn’t notice. He’s lost in the colours. For a while we all are. Time has stopped.
‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ he says, eventually. ‘Like a whole other world just for us. Like we’re in Narnia or something.’
‘See?’ Clara says. ‘Mermaids are real. Magic is real. Maybe even Narnia is real.’
‘It’s so brilliant. So, so brilliant.’
As Will keeps looking up, mesmerised, Clara glances at me. My stomach drops.
‘I’m cold,’ I say, trying not to let the words wobble. ‘Did you make coffee?’
‘Sure, here.’ She hands me the flask. I open it and make myself sip some. A tiny mouthful at first until I get the bitter bite and know I’ve got the right one.
‘I made you some hot chocolate, Will. Do you want it?’
‘Yes, please.’ He looks at her and grins, wide and happy. Carefree. He is having the best night, I tell myself, but still it feels as if the lights overhead darken on me. Clara’s hands are shaking as she unscrews the top and I help Will wrap his clumsily mittened hands around the flask. He tilts it to his mouth. I wonder if he’ll notice. Clara keeps a hold on the base in case he drops it and I can see that her hands are still shaking.
My heart aches with a ferocity that surprises me. I love Will. Not the way I love Clara, but he’s like a little brother. In the house everything is different. We need each other and he’s the first of our dorm to go. I think of the letter in my pocket and wish I hadn’t found it tonight.
‘Drink it up,’ I say softly. ‘It’ll keep you warm.’
Will takes another long sip, a chocolate moustache staining his mouth.
‘Thanks for this, Toby,’ he says. Love shines in his eyes and my heart breaks. ‘It’s been ace.’
We don’t say anything after that. He drinks the hot chocolate and I force my coffee down, sharing the flask with Clara, and we stare at the sky, although I know that me and Clara aren’t really looking at the lights any more. Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t see them properly through the haze of silent, blurring tears.
After a while the flask slips from his hand and he slumps to a dead weight between us. We sit back down on the rocks at the mouth of the cave and I make sure he’s facing where the lights are dancing merrily across the sky. I keep him close and warm, his body leaning into mine. His eyes are closed and his head lolls but he’s still breathing, slow and uneven, but breathing all the same, and I want this brilliant night to last for ever for him. I want him to be looking up at the dazzling sky. If not for ever, then for as long as he can.
It’s longer than I expect until his breathing finally stops. It slows first, growing shallower, and then finally there just isn’t another one. His body sinks into me almost, suddenly heavier and hollow all at once. I don’t realise how closely I’ve been listening to those tiny breaths until they stop.
I think I might be sick as the world swims. Clara lets her tears free in hitches and gasps of breath, and I wipe the chocolate carefully off Will’s lips with the sleeve of my coat. He’s not going to look mucky when they find him. I won’t have that.
We stay there a while longer, me and Clara with our arms round Will’s shoulders, neither of us wanting to let him go even though he’s already left us behind. Clara’s fingers touch mine.
‘It was the right thing, wasn’t it?’ she whispers. I can hear the fear in her voice. The enormity of what we’ve done. I think about it a long time before answering.
‘Yes,’ I say, and I mean it. ‘A terrible thing, but the right thing.’
My bedpost is empty of pills now. We collected them all, Clara’s and mine, while Will slept that afternoon, and we decided what we were going to do. I wonder if perhaps I had subconsciously been saving them for me, when my turn came to face the sanatorium. I don’t think so. I’d be like all the others – just becoming sicker and sicker and hoping there’d been some mistake. It feels strange now, with Will dead beside me and the piece of paper folded in my pocket. I can’t tell Clara about it. I can never tell Clara about it. Another link in the chain of secrets. But I love her. I love her with everything I am, especially now, especially after this thing we’ve done. I don’t want anything to spoil that. I want her to stay as close to me as I am to her. I don’t want her to see me differently.
‘We should go,’ I say, when the lights start to fade. She nods and gathers our things as I scoop Will up in my arms. He’s heavier than I expected. I don’t mind, though. Carrying him back to the house is a privilege, an honour. It’s also a penance. It’s my due for the choice Clara and I made. I have to pay it.
I’m sweating hard by the time we come in through the back gate. My clothes stick to me and my arms are trembling. My back screams at me to drop Will, but I hold him tight and safe until we reach the big oak tree and I lower him down as gently as I can so he’s sitting up against it. He slumps to one side and we straighten him against the trunk, tucking the empty chocolate flask in beside him to wedge him upright. The tree is strong and supports him well and suddenly I can’t hold my own tears back any longer. Clara gets the blanket and tucks it around him, and when she’s done we watch him for a moment, Clara’s arms around me as I sob. Eventually, she pulls me back.
I don’t want to leave him out here alone but morning is coming. I should take his body up to his bed and make it look as if he died there, but even though that would be safer and look less suspicious, I don’t want to. I want Matron to think Will had a final moment of defiance. That he came out here by himself to die in the shelter of the tree and out in the open air free from the house. It’s a small rebellion but I want them to respect Will in his death, even begrudgingly.
‘Good night, Will,’ I whisper as my eyes blur. ‘Sleep well.’
Clara takes my hand then and leads me inside where she tidies up as I replace the key and then relock Matron’s study door. I don’t struggle with the hairpins and it’s easy. My hands aren’t shaking any more. I just feel tired, right down deep in my bones, not from the effort of carrying Will – his weight was nothing compared to this knowledge, this deed we have to carry with us.
But it was the right thing, I tell myself, as me and Clara curl up on a bed in one of the empty dorms and cry into each other’s hot faces until our stomachs hurt and we’re empty and exhausted. It was the kindest thing. I couldn’t let him die alone in the sanatorium. I just couldn’t.
He could still taste the sticky, sweet Coke as he came up the path to the house and paused to look at the van pulled up beside it. His mum must have workmen in or something. Maybe she was finally getting the shower looked at to stop it randomly running cold every few minutes. His schoolbag was heavy with homework he had no real intention of doing that weekend and he rummaged in his pockets for his keys. Maybe he’d get the books out and stare at them for a bit, but mainly he’d be thinking about the party on Saturday and the best way to impress Julie McKendrick without looking like a complete twat. And how to deal with Jonesy. He was going to see him tonight and by then he had to decide whether to bring him along or not. He didn’t want to – not really – but just imagining how Jonesy would look when he told him made his stomach twist a bit. And also, in the very likely possibility that it turned out Julie didn’t fancy him at all, he didn’t want to blow his friendship with Jonesy. It was tricky. Being a teenager was fucking tricky.
He didn’t hear the van door opening behind him. He just wanted to get inside where it was cool and find something cold in the fridge to wash away the warm sweetness clinging to his mouth. He hoped his mum had bought more juice.
It was only when he was in the hallway and had thrown his schoolbag down by the line of shoes that he knew something was badly wrong. He could hear crying, a deep, awful sound that it took him a moment to realise was coming from his mum. He still didn’t put it together, though – the van outside, the test, the crying. His first thought was of his dad. The long drive to work. A mangled car. His heart thumped.
‘Mum?’ He wandered towards the kitchen, a slight rush i
n his pace. He didn’t reach the door before she launched out.
‘Run, Toby. Run, please run . . .’ Arms pulled her back and he just stared, uncomprehending. Were they being burgled? What was going on? A man was holding his mother, talking to her calmly as she raged at Toby to run. Another was carrying some of his clothes. Jeans, T-shirt, trainers.
‘You can change in the van,’ he said. Toby didn’t really hear the words. All he heard was his mother’s terrible, desperate, snotty crying, begging them not to take him, not to take her baby, there must have been some mistake.
She was screaming how much she loved him, that she would always love him, when they led him like a meek lamb to the van sitting in the sunshine. It was only when he stared inside it that the truth hit him and he started screaming for her to help him.
Nineteen
It’s quiet in the dorm when we wake up. Will’s bed is gone. I try to look as shocked as the others, but I had lain in bed, my eyes squeezed shut and trying to breathe slowly while my heart raced, when they came in and took it and his possessions away to be rumbled upstairs in the lift. The nurses had sounded frantic and surprised, whispering among themselves. It was a bittersweet small victory. I wonder which one of them had looked out of the window and seen Will sitting against the tree. I hope it was Matron. They didn’t have a lot of time to work in and they had rushed here and there along the corridors. But by the time the others woke up, everything was normal. Well, as normal as anything can be when one of your group has vanished in the night.
‘Poor Will,’ Ashley says eventually. ‘I thought he had at least another day.’
Louis stares at the empty space for a long time and then bursts into ragged sobs. I go to comfort him but he pushes me away. ‘Leave me alone.’ He sounds like a wounded animal, angry and hurt. ‘Don’t touch me. Leave me alone.’ He glares at me and I back off. I wasn’t expecting this. Louis has always looked up to me. Tom glances over and shrugs. It’s grief. That’s all it is.
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