The Death House

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The Death House Page 20

by Sarah Pinborough


  She’s right, as usual. I lie awake for a long time before finally plucking up the courage to creep out and find her. I watch Louis for a moment but I’m pretty sure he’s asleep. I pull his blankets up a bit to cover his arms. The sun might be back during the day but the house is still cool at night.

  We don’t go out – even Clara thinks that might be too risky – instead picking a room between both our dorms to curl up in just in case we hear movement and have to get back fast. The added danger is almost exciting and it’s not long until she’s kissing me hard and pulling me down over her.

  ‘I love you, I love you, I love you,’ she whispers over and over as our faces draw close. Her breath is warm and I kiss her some more. She makes everything better. Afterwards, as we lie there, smiling and breathless, my head spins with the amazing brilliance of what we’ve just done and I feel relaxed and happy for the first time since that night. I wonder what Jonesy would make of this. Me, in love with a beautiful girl who loves me back, and who I have sex with and who I’m good at having sex with after those first awkward times. Jonesy seems like a kid to me now, just like Julie McKendrick has faded to nothing.

  I trace my finger down Clara’s smooth skin and hope Jonesy is okay. He doesn’t have a lot of other friends. Jonesy and Louis merge a little in my head and then Clara flinches and I lean forward. There’s a big bruise across her hip.

  ‘What did you do?’ I ask, leaning down to kiss it.

  ‘Walked into something like an idiot. It’s fine.’

  It blooms like a black rose across her pale skin. ‘Must’ve been hard.’ I smile up at her. ‘Try walking, not running.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad.’

  I pull a face. ‘That’s not weird at all.’

  I think about my mum and dad and whether I should call them when we get away. How much would it freak them out? Maybe when we’re safe I will. Maybe later. Home doesn’t feel like home any more.

  ‘I think Will would be okay with what we did,’ she says as we stare at the ceiling and imagine the night stars twinkling over us above a sandy beach. ‘I really do.’

  I let her speak and don’t say anything. I’m realising that it’s less about whether Will would be fine with it than whether we can be fine with it, but I don’t want to make her think about that too hard. It’s enough that I am.

  ‘It’s what I’d want someone to do,’ she continues, her voice soft and serious. ‘If they knew the sanatorium was coming for me.’

  I kind of envy how she’s made her peace with it so quickly. I think she’s like the lights in the sky – all bright and fascinating and in the moment. I’m the slump in weight – earthy, dark and heavy.

  ‘What we have to do now is live every minute. Make it all count. That’s how we’ll honour Will. We have to be happy.’

  ‘I am happy.’ It’s the truth. I’m full of secrets I can’t share but in this moment I’m happy. ‘You make me happy.’

  ‘Even here?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes.’

  She twirls a strand of her hair and thinks for a moment. ‘I can’t imagine not knowing you. I can’t imagine being in my old life and never meeting you.’

  ‘Me neither.’ It’s true. Time has gone funny here. I feel like I’ve known her for ever and everything before was a dream.

  ‘It’s like fate, isn’t it?’ she says, soft and sweet. ‘You and me, both Defectives. Like we were meant to find each other here.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘No maybe about it.’ She slaps my head playfully and then sighs. ‘You stop me being scared.’

  My heart tugs so hard at that. I can never imagine Clara being afraid. I kiss her again and she’s warm and vulnerable and soft. I want to look after her.

  ‘Together for ever?’ she says.

  ‘Together for ever,’ I agree. I think of the paper in my pocket and a bit of me breaks inside, forcing me to grin to hide it. ‘I married you, didn’t I?’

  ‘Never leave me?’

  ‘Never leave you.’

  ‘At least we won’t get old and ugly,’ she says. ‘You won’t end up bald and fat like my dad. We won’t become complacent with each other. Our love won’t fade.’

  ‘You could never be ugly.’ I smile. ‘And our love could never fade. Fate, remember?’

  She wraps her arms around my neck and holds on tight. ‘I can’t wait to get out of here,’ she breathes into my skin. ‘I can’t wait.’

  Twenty-One

  This time, when the vans come, there are seven. As we did last time, we crane our heads at the dorm window to see the new kids climb out, one from each van. I’ve been so caught up in my own excitement about leaving that I somehow didn’t expect any more to arrive. But the house is its own world and it keeps turning.

  ‘I wonder if we’ll get one,’ Tom says. He doesn’t look pleased by the thought of an interloper in our midst and I almost smile, remembering how we felt the same way about him not so long ago.

  ‘Maybe there’ll be some more girls,’ I chip in. I kind of hope there’ll be someone for him or Jake to make up for me stealing Clara away, even though it doesn’t really work like that. Me and Clara are meant to be. I can’t imagine anyone else feeling the way we do. But a couple of girls for them to make out with would be good. I don’t really share any of the excitement, though. I’m too busy hoping that none of these new kids fuck up mine and Clara’s plans. They’d better all take their pills. I can’t wait to leave and every moment spent in the house weighs on me with the fear of something going wrong.

  Louis is at the window as well, but after a moment he drifts away and sits cross-legged on his bed. The tatty home-made chess board is laid out and he moves one of the black cardboard pieces and then mutters something, letting out a strange little laugh. It’s unsettling.

  ‘Do you have to talk to yourself like that?’ Tom asks. ‘It’s fucking weird.’

  Louis looks up at him, eyes wide and surprised. ‘I’m not talking to myself.’

  ‘Yeah, you are.’

  ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘So who are you talking to, then?’

  Louis smiles. It’s almost his old smile. Almost, but not quite. ‘Will, of course,’ he says. ‘I’m talking to Will.’

  He goes back to his game as we stare at him, and after a long moment, Tom sucks his teeth in disgust. ‘This place is fucking crazy,’ he mumbles.

  None of us really talks after that. Bored at the window, I go and lie on my bed. I wonder if Louis is doing it on purpose to drive me crazy. To not let me forget. In some ways I hope that’s the reason. It sure as shit beats the alternative that Louis, the genius, is cracking up. That he can handle being Defective, and the house, but not the loss of his friend. I can live with him hating me, but if I’m going tell him our plans I need him not to be barking mad. The time ticks by and we hear footsteps outside but no new arrival comes into Dorm 4. I think we all heave a sigh of relief. We’ve got enough shit going on in here without fresh blood.

  At tea, Jake preens and talks loudly amidst the excited chattering. There are two new boys at the Dorm 7 table and he’s setting out his stall as top dog of the house. I barely look at the new faces and I don’t ask what their names are. There’s a buzz in the air with so many fresh faces here and I feel like a new day is beginning, but I don’t belong in it any more.

  ‘No girls,’ Tom grumbles into his apple crumble and custard. Louis hasn’t even looked up throughout the meal. He’s stuck in the old days, too.

  As far as we can tell, all the new kids take their vitamins and in the hush of the night, me and Clara walk around the dorms, ghosts haunting the sleeping house, and look at them. None of them so much as twitches. I think maybe they’ve upped the dose of whatever it is since what happened with Will. In Dorm 9 one new boy’s face is still wet, as if he’s been crying in his sleep. I can’t remember if I cried. I know Will did. Maybe
Ashley, too. It’s hard to remember those first nights now. We’re all so much tougher than we used to be.

  ‘I told you it was fate,’ Clara whispers as we hold hands and creep down to the playroom. ‘Only you and me awake in the night.’

  ‘Do you want to go to the cave?’ I ask. It’s crazy but I want to say goodbye to that rocky shelter before we leave. It’s mine and Clara’s place, the good and the bad.

  ‘I just want to dance,’ she says. ‘Let’s stay in.’ It’s not that cold tonight but she’s properly dressed rather than just in her nightshirt, so her answer throws me. She’s wearing jeans and socks and a long baggy jumper, when normally she likes the freedom of the air around her legs. She digs out a record and plugs the headphones in.

  ‘You wear them,’ I say. ‘I want to be able to hear if someone comes.’

  ‘Always so sensible, Tobes.’ She leans up and kisses me and then she’s swaying in my arms. ‘Pretend we’re on the beach,’ she whispers as she closes her eyes. ‘It’s midnight and the bonfire is going and some old guy is playing guitar and we’re dancing.’

  ‘We won’t have to pretend much longer.’ She can’t hear me. The music that’s just a tinny hum to me fills her head. I move with her as best I can, but dancing always makes me feel like a twat. My arms and legs never do what they’re supposed to and I can’t match her natural rhythm. She’s lost in it and doesn’t mind. Her mouth is half-open and I kiss her, breaking the moment. I can’t help it when her body is pressed so close to mine. My hand reaches under her top and she winces and pulls back, tugging the headphones away from her ears.

  ‘Let’s not do that. Let’s wait until we’re away before we do it again.’

  ‘Okay.’ I feel even more awkward now, like I’ve done something wrong, and it must show because she holds my face in her hands and kisses me again.

  ‘Is that all right? Do you mind?’

  ‘Of course not.’ I try and smile but my mouth is like drying glue. I do mind a bit. I can’t help it. Aside from the wanting to – and I kind of always want to, so that probably doesn’t count – I feel like she’s rejecting me and sudden doubt hits me hard. Has she gone off me? Is she just waiting until we’re free to dump me? But what about all that fate stuff? She can’t have fallen out of love with me, can she?

  ‘Let’s just dance then,’ she whispers and pulls the headphones back on. ‘I love to dance.’ Her eyes close and she pulls me close and my head is filled with blackness at the idea that she might not want me any more. Even if I’m just being stupid right now, in this moment, I feel sick at the thought of her ever dancing with anyone else.

  We go back to bed earlier than normal, Clara saying we need to preserve our energy for our adventures, but she kisses me and hugs me and tells me she loves me and I feel a bit better.

  ‘Together for ever,’ I say, trying not to sound too desperate, as she leaves me for her dorm. She looks back over her shoulder and grins wide. ‘Together for ever, Mermaid King.’

  I’m happy again.

  Twenty-Two

  ‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’ Clara hisses at me as we go into breakfast. It’s the last morning before the boat. I’m electric with contained excitement and her anger takes me off guard. Her face is tight and her lips thin as she glares at me. She’s never been like this with me before and again I feel that darkness of fear – that she’s finally realised I’m a twat.

  ‘I’m sorry. I figured you were tired. I figured with, you know, tonight, it was better to leave you to sleep.’ I don’t want her to be annoyed at me. I have to ask her about bringing Louis and that will probably freak her out enough. I’m not sure what I’ll do if she says no. I’ll have to bring him anyway and deal with it afterwards. That’s if he wants to come. Telling him is taking a risk but I don’t have a choice. Not if I want to live with myself.

  ‘It was our last night,’ she says, and I can see she’s hurt. ‘It was important.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I sound lame. I feel lame. I want to tell her that I nearly woke her up. That I wanted to go to the cave. That there were things I wanted to do together to say goodbye to the house as well. I’ve hated it here, but lots of me and Clara are wrapped up in these walls too. Brilliant stuff’s happened, too. I want to tell her that part of me was actually angry at her for falling asleep on such an important night. That in the end I just watched her sleep for a bit and then went through my old routine of getting some food before sitting in the playroom and staring at the sky. I felt lonely without her, even though it was good to have some thinking time to myself. To say my own goodbyes. I’ve been here longer than her, and I had another before to say goodbye to. Not the real before of our old lives, but the before Clara of the house. I can’t bring myself to say any of that, though. I don’t want us to fight. We can’t get the night back now. ‘I just thought . . . you know . . . that you were tired.’

  She sighs a bit and her shoulders are still stiff as we sit down, but I squeeze her hand under the table and she squeezes back. I can’t imagine her staying mad for long. She’s too full of the moment for that.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper again.

  ‘I know,’ she says. ‘You’ve said it three times now.’

  ‘I won’t do it again.’ I smile and wink. The last night is gone. I can’t believe that this time tomorrow we’ll be fleeing across the mainland. I’m not worried about the boat. We’ll find somewhere to hide. In the lifeboat, maybe. I saw that in a film once and it worked for them. Our fate doesn’t lie in this house.

  There’s ten minutes after breakfast before lessons. I find her coming out of the downstairs toilets and pull her into the music room on the same draughty corridor.

  ‘What is it?’ Her eyes are wide. She looks pale and worried. She must be itching to get away, too. I take a deep breath. This isn’t going to be the last difficult conversation of the day and I’m shit with words when I have to be serious.

  ‘It’s Louis.’

  ‘What about him?’

  My heart thumps. ‘I think we should take him with us. I mean, not all the way, not to the beach and stuff, but I think we should get him out of here. He’s not himself. Not after Will. If we go, too . . .’ It’s all coming out in a garbled rush of excuses that are anything but the truth. ‘I’m worried he’ll crack up completely.’

  ‘Sure,’ she says. ‘Sure, that’s a good idea.’

  ‘I really want it to be just us, but I can’t leave him, I really can’t.’ I’m so sure I’m going to have to persuade her that my brain can’t compute her words fast enough to stop my own.

  ‘I said it’s fine.’ She squeezes my arm. ‘In fact, I think it’s a great idea.’ She reaches up and kisses me, butterfly wings on my lips. ‘It really is.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ I expected at least some questions. We haven’t talked about taking anyone else, not even little Eleanor.

  She nods and smiles, and then is out through the door. I wonder if I’m ever going to really understand her. But still, it’s a weight lifted. And I haven’t really had to lie. All the reasons I gave were true even if they weren’t the truth. I’ll leave talking to Louis until later.

  It’s a strange day. My whole life in the house I’ve been wishing for time to slow down and yet now I’m wishing it forward. I can barely sit still in my lessons and my thighs itch against the wooden chair. It’s a clear, sunny day and I hope the weather holds for tonight. Everything is about tonight. I try and concentrate on the comprehension questions but the words swim a little. All I know is that everything’s going to shit for Ralph and Piggy on their island and that’s not going to happen to us. I scribble down some crap answers anyway. I don’t want to do anything that will draw attention to me and it doesn’t matter if my answers are wrong. No one’s going to mark them.

  Even though it feels to me like the hours aren’t moving at all, we finally crawl to lunch and I force myself to eat some shephe
rd’s pie. Clara only manages a few mouthfuls before declaring she’s not hungry and disappearing off with Eleanor. I don’t mind. Eleanor will miss her, especially after Will. I feel bad about that. As I eat, Tom talks about the new kids and one who can’t stop crying, but I don’t listen. Jake is in his element and the two new boys in Dorm 7 are already picking up some of his cockiness. Daniel is back to being bottom dog in that group. I watch it all but don’t really see it. My ears hum. This is our last lunch here. It’s all so surreal.

  I’m in the playroom staring out of the window at the garden when Jake comes over. Clara is up in the branches of the tree, staring out at the sea. Her fingers stroke the bark of the trunk, and although I can’t see exactly, I know she’s touching the place where she carved our initials, and my heart floods warmth through me. It’s a beautiful day. Everything is bright.

  ‘You’ve noticed, too, then,’ Jake says.

  I look at him. ‘What?’ I keep expecting someone to know what we’re planning, even though I know that’s crazy.

  ‘Preacher boy.’ He nods out through the window. ‘He’s getting sick. Joe says he stinks.’

  Only then do I notice Ashley sitting on one of the swings.

  ‘That’ll make you two down.’ He grins, smug. The new kids have invigorated him. He’s back to old Jake, the pack animal, all about winning. Whatever feelings he has about the house, he’s locked them away again. I hope it lasts for him. ‘We’re only one.’

  ‘He’s not gone yet.’

  Jack laughs at that and then walks away. I don’t care that he thinks he’s somehow victorious. I’m not even in the game. I never have been, really. I look out at Ashley and for the first time I just see a skinny boy rather than a smug twat. Jake might have laughed, but if Ashley really is sick then that worries me. It’s so fast after Will. I think about Matron and the pills and the new kids. Maybe she likes to keep the numbers manageable.

 

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