by Em Bailey
I freeze. Maybe it’s just a cat. Or a shrub, being blown by the wind. Maybe it’s nothing at all. But a blind panic seizes me and I feverishly wrench the back gate open, almost tripping over in my haste to get back inside, back into the house, back into my room, where I can lock the door and window and try to breathe again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I place the dress in the lounge room, being careful to touch it as little as possible. The odour of rubbish clings to the fabric, but it holds Esther’s scent too and I do not want to lose any more of that. Whenever I feel doubt about our current situation, I kneel in front of it, imagining the day – surely not too far away now – when its folds will be filled out by Esther’s form.
‘I really like Esther’s style,’ says Petra, during her afternoon cigarette break the next day. ‘Long skirt and high collar – it’s elegant. And that French knot thing she does with her hair – very cool.’
Judith takes a puff on her cigarette. ‘She might not look like that any more, you know.’ Her own hemline, I’ve noticed, has dropped a little lately. ‘Most of the footage they’re showing now is old stuff, from the portal. No-one’s seen her since she was rescued.’
‘Which is why tonight’s interview is going to be so interesting,’ says Petra, sipping her coffee. ‘I can’t wait! I might even go out to the studio and see if I can get a glimpse of her arriving.’
‘You idiot!’ laughs Judith. ‘It was filmed this morning. And I bet you couldn’t have got near the place anyway.’
She couldn’t have. I know because I tried myself and found the studio door completely blocked by gawpers, weirdos and security. All I could do was hang in the background, my gun tucked into my work jacket.
‘You know, I’m surprised she’s doing the interview at all,’ muses Judith. ‘The other two are still in hospital.’
‘It was probably the money,’ says Petra. ‘I heard that one network offered her two million for an interview.’
‘I heard three,’ says Judith. ‘But I don’t think it was the money. People who’ve gone through this sort of thing almost never go on TV, especially not so soon afterwards. There must be something else going on.’
Petra’s eyes gleam. ‘I can’t wait. The promos say there are going to be explosive revelations, whatever that means. Maybe they’ve worked out who the creep behind it all is. I heard there’ve been thousands of calls to Crime Stoppers –’
‘Are you okay?’ Judith interrupts, glancing back at me. ‘Did you just staple your thumb?’
‘No,’ I say, through gritted teeth. ‘Everything’s fine.’
Judith stands, takes a final drag on her cigarette and then stubs it out on an old saucer. ‘Well, like I said, whatever ends up happening tonight, I get the feeling it’s going to be interesting.’
The only chair left in the lounge room is a purple vinyl recliner – it was too modern, too ugly, to go to the farm. It was in this very chair that they found my mother, I believe, with my brother and father on the sofa nearby, the gas heating turned up to the highest setting, as usual. None of them could’ve cared less about conserving energy.
Usually I just sit on the floor or on a milk crate, but it feels appropriate to sit in my mother’s chair tonight. She used to watch Tina Talks It Through religiously. The show promotes itself as an ‘in-depth conversation’ between the host and whoever they’ve coerced into appearing. As far as I can tell, the main goal of the show seems to be to get the guest to cry.
As the theme music plays, the camera shows Tina arranging her notes and planning, I assume, today’s strategy for extracting tears. Opposite her, on the brown leather couch provided for the guests, is Esther.
Her back is straight, hands folded in her lap. I recognise the expression on her face. It’s how she used to look during verification. Radiantly calm, inwardly focused. Composed. How I used to love watching her standing there! But her expression is almost the only familiar thing about her. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt like she’s some ordinary teenager, and her face has been so caked with make-up that she’s barely recognisable. It hurts me to see her like this, but I take solace in what has remained the same: that serene expression, her beautiful long hair.
Looking at her makes me realise just how much I’ve missed being able to see and speak with her every day. To know what is in her head. I try to read her thoughts but it’s difficult through the television screen. All I am able to detect clearly is her immense discomfort.
I lean forward and focus on her image, in particular her forehead, pushing my words in. Do not worry, Esther. I am here, guiding you.
The show begins with the same old footage of the police ransacking my farm, followed by the shots of Esther returning home. There’s the nauseating voice-over telling us about the terrible lives the prisoners led under the ever-present watch of their captor and Esther’s daring escape from certain death. There’s no mention at all of Harry.
When it’s over, Tina turns to Esther with a concerned smile. ‘The whole world has seen the terrible footage of that place, Tess. You were there for two years – no electricity, no contact with the outside world, continual hard labour. It would’ve broken a lot of people. How did you cope?’
Esther moves uncomfortably. ‘I coped because I had to.’
‘Well, I think I can say on behalf of everyone that you’re a pretty incredible young woman,’ says Tina. The studio audience claps and whoops and there’s a shot of some girls in the audience, Esther lookalikes, who smile and wave at the camera.
‘So what have you been doing since you returned home?’ asks Tina, when the camera focuses on her again. ‘Are you picking up your studies? Reconnecting with old friends? I guess you’ve got a lot of TV to catch up on, right?’
Esther looks a little taken aback. ‘Um, no,’ she says. ‘I’ve been trying to help find the ones who are still missing. They’re out there somewhere, and –’
‘Really?’ says Tina, her eyebrows lifting. ‘Haven’t you been through enough already? I would have thought you’d leave that to the police.’
I can tell from the way Esther’s mouth forms a grim line that she still shares my opinion of police capabilities. ‘I just pass on anything I remember that I think might help,’ she says.
Tina arranges her expression into one of concern. ‘And have you had any contact with the other two survivors from the prison farm yet?’
‘Well, no,’ says Esther, frowning. ‘Felicity – I mean Zoe – is in hospital, isn’t she, and I don’t think –’
But Tina silences her with a dazzling smile and then turns to address the camera. ‘We’re going to take a short break now, but stay with us because we’ll return with something very exciting – a special reunion here on Tina Talks It Through.’
During the commercial break I pace up and down the hallway as I cannot bear all those advertisements for useless, landfill-producing items. When I hear the theme music, I hurry back in. There are now two other people sitting on chairs next to Esther. One of them I recognise straight away as the last Felicity, but it takes me a few moments to realise that the other girl – with blonde, straight hair – is the last Lucille.
There’s something in her face that gives me a strong feeling of foreboding. Her expression is compressed, like there’s something simmering there. Sitting beside her is Esther, looking tense, and I see her eyes flit to the side, like she’s looking for a possible escape route.
Tina is sitting up in her own chair, looking very pleased with herself. She speaks to Felicity first, asking how she’s feeling.
‘Much better, thanks.’
‘I hear you went back home this morning, right? That must have felt good.’
Felicity nods. ‘Yep, it was great. Although one of the rabbits died while I was away.’
Tina leans in a little closer. Tilts her head. ‘So what was it like on the farm?’
‘It was okay,’ says Felicity cautiously, ‘so long as you remembered about the pretending.’
‘
Pretending?’
‘Like, I had to pretend we all lived in the olden days and my name was Felicity. I almost started to think I really was called Felicity, but I know that’s not true now. They told me at the hospital.’
This is disappointing. The brainwashers have got to her too. It’s a shame that these girls should so easily be convinced of their ordinariness, but on the other hand it’s further proof that Esther and I will be better off on our own.
Tina nods. ‘And what were the others like to live with?’
‘Well, Harry was my favourite.’
Tina smiles sadly, then prompts, ‘And Tess?
Felicity looks blank.
‘Esther.’
Felicity gives a little grin at Esther. ‘She helped me a lot. She always reminded me that my name was Felicity and she made sure I got up early so I would have time to do all my chores before bedtime.’
‘And was she fun? Did she play with you and give you hugs?’
Felicity looks shocked, as well she might. ‘Of course not! She wasn’t allowed.’
Lucille breaks in and I’m struck by the spiteful gleam in her eye, bright as a blade. ‘Esther was very cold,’ she says. ‘She didn’t feel anything. She used to freak me out – it was like she was dead sometimes. She could do these terrible things without reacting at all. It wasn’t normal.’
The camera cuts to Esther then, probably hoping she’ll get angry and start arguing with Lucille. Esther sits up straight, her face flushed. ‘You know I had to act that way! It wasn’t how I felt inside.’
Don’t be rattled by this nonsense, I urge her. Stay calm.
‘I got locked in the cellar once for days and days without food,’ Lucille continues, talking over the top of Esther. ‘And when I was finally allowed back up – literally starving – she just hands me a bit of bread and says, “Here” – like, get on with it, don’t complain.’
There’s a murmur of disapproval from the studio audience. I grind my teeth in irritation. Fasting is a necessary discipline for a Special One. It strips away what is unnecessary and hones the mind for work.
Lucille shakes her head, looks down. Wipes some undoubtedly fake tears from her cheeks. Tina turns to Esther. The look in her eyes is much cooler than before. ‘That sounds incredibly difficult. Would you like to comment, Tess?’
Felicity jumps in before Esther can answer. ‘We were all punished!’ she says. ‘But only when we’d done something wrong.’
Lucille looks up again, eyes flashing with anger. ‘We weren’t all punished,’ she snaps. ‘You were, Zoe, and I was, but Harry and Esther were never punished. And they broke rules all the time.’
‘Hey!’ protests Felicity. ‘That’s not –’
But Tina cuts her off. ‘It sounds,’ she remarks, ‘like the four of you weren’t really equal.’
‘We weren’t even close to equal!’ Lucille snaps. ‘Esther and Harry were in charge. We had to do what they said, or we’d get in trouble. And you know something else? Everyone keeps saying that Harry is dead, like the other girls who were renewed. Well, I don’t believe it. Esther was renewed and she’s still alive.’
Tina swings round to Esther. ‘Do you think he’s still alive?’
Esther is very quiet for a moment and the camera zooms in on her face, waiting for her reaction. I lean forward too, wondering if she’ll finally come clean about Harry. ‘I don’t know,’ she says carefully, ‘but I hope so. And I hope he’s okay.’
Lucille snorts. ‘Of course he’s okay – he’s probably in hiding! He’s the one who kidnapped us all, so he’s not going to give himself up to the police when he’s a criminal.’
Tina crosses her legs. ‘Let’s talk about that for a moment, as clearly things with Harry are more complicated than we’ve all been led to believe.’
Lucille jumps in again. ‘It’s not complicated. Harry kidnapped me, although he and Esther called it “collection”. He told me he was a talent scout for a movie and invited me to visit the set.’
Tina nods. ‘And you believed him.’
Lucille closes her eyes for a moment, the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘He seemed so … nice. I trusted him.’
Tina swings back to Felicity. ‘Did Harry collect you too?’
Felicity nods. ‘I was walking home after school and he said he had some baby chickens to show me.’
‘But that was also a lie, right?’ says Tina.
‘No, he really did have baby chickens,’ says Felicity, earnestly. ‘On the farm. We ate one – after it grew bigger, of course.’
Lucille turns sideways in her chair, arms tightly crossed, her narrowed eyes fixed on Esther. ‘Why don’t you ask her how she was kidnapped by Harry? I’d love to hear what she says.’
Esther suddenly pales and I sense her tensing up. The camera seems to sense it too, and instantly her face fills the screen.
‘How did Harry kidnap you, Tess?’ asks Tina.
I feel my own body tighten a little, but from excitement rather than fear. What I’ve seen in this interview has tested my trust in Esther, though her glow is still there. Like Lucille, I’m very curious to hear how she’ll answer the question. If she’ll tell the truth. There’s no harm in the world knowing, after all.
Esther’s voice is steady, but firm. ‘Harry didn’t kidnap me.’
Tina frowns. ‘So how were you taken to the farm? Were you forced at gunpoint? Or tricked somehow?’
There’s a moment of silence and, although I can’t read her actual thoughts, I can tell that Esther’s struggling with what to say. Just tell them the truth, I advise her. There’s no shame in it.
I know that this message gets through to her because Esther looks directly into the camera and answers steadily and clearly. ‘No-one made me go there. It was my choice.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The show cuts to another ad break and I take the opportunity to prepare a snack. I’m feeling exultant. Ugly make-up and bad clothes can’t disguise the fact that Esther is still the same inside. She has told the truth. Announced to the world that she came to the farm because she wanted to be there. Knew that she needed to join me. The bond between us feels so strong right now. I can’t believe I ever thought she was growing away from me.
When I return to the living room with my cucumber slices, there’s a shot of the studio audience on the TV. The girls dressed like Esther aren’t waving any more. Everyone seems very quiet.
‘Tess,’ says Tina, seriously. ‘We’ve just heard some very disturbing accusations against you and Harry. I’m going to ask you this straight out: are you the leader of the Special Ones cult? In conjunction with Harry?’
‘Of course not!’ snaps Esther.
‘Well, then, who is the leader?’ asks Tina.
‘I – don’t know.’
‘But you must have seen him?’ pushes Tina. ‘He must have come to the farm to check on you.’
‘He watched us through the cameras,’ Felicity pipes up.
Tina’s disbelief is quite apparent. ‘What kind of cult leader doesn’t live with his disciples? Surely that’s the whole point?’
Esther returns Tina’s suspicious gaze without flinching. ‘I guess he’s different.’
Without realising it, I have assumed a kneeling position on the ground in front of the television, close enough to the screen that I can feel warmth emanating from its surface.
Yes, I am different. I listened to you, Esther, when no-one else would. I understood you, when no-one else could.
Esther’s face suddenly turns so that she’s looking directly into the camera. Through the screen – at me. Once again she’s heard my words, I’m sure of it.
‘And so the leader of the Special Ones asked you to join him?’ asks Tina.
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t you just tell us before you’d never spoken to him?’ It’s apparent from her tone that Tina thinks she’s just caught Esther lying.
Esther maintains her composure. ‘No. I said I never saw his face.’
‘Letters.’
‘But how did he know you?’ the irritating woman persists. ‘What made him choose you?’
It’s such a ridiculous question. I didn’t choose Esther. I simply found her again.
‘I don’t know,’ says Esther, sounding frustrated. ‘An envelope just appeared on my windowsill one day with my name on it.’
‘How did you write back?’ presses Tina.
‘I left my letters in the same place I’d found his.’
‘And what did he write about?’
Esther frowns for a moment, looking down at her hands, and I sense that she’s reluctant to share the contents of our correspondence. ‘All kinds of things,’ she eventually says. ‘His philosophies, how he felt about the world. He hated the way most people waste their lives. He said he wanted to live differently. To do something important and valuable and – special. He told me that we’d lived before and that we’d live again.’
I lean forward, so that my face is not far from hers on the other side of the screen. My heart is racing, alight with joy. I remember the excitement of that period so well, those early exchanges. The bond between us was instant, of course, and I desperately wanted to tell her why, about how we’d known each other in a previous life. But I knew I had to let this information come gradually.
Drop by drop I reminded her about her past. Our shared life. Then I began to let her know what her future held. In the final letter I instructed her to leave her window open that night when she went to bed. The last sentence I wrote was: When you wake up, your new life will have begun. Over the final full stop I placed a little white pill.
‘You believed it?’ asks Tina. ‘All that reincarnation stuff?’
Esther closes her eyes. She looks very pale. Drained. ‘I was a lot younger back then. Things were … so hard at that time. Or at least I thought they were. I was very naive.’
Poor Esther. She looks so uncomfortable and I don’t blame her. It must feel terrible to have to lie like this.