by S. C. Ransom
Suddenly I realised that something was different – the air seemed fresher, lighter. I blinked and looked around me; I had reached the middle. I knew this maze too well and my feet had automatically taken me straight to the centre. I couldn’t even get lost properly.
I could feel my grip on my feelings starting to slip and I staggered towards the bench seat. I let my head fall on to my knees and gave in to the anguish. The waves of sadness rolled over me. I felt a huge sob forming in my chest. I gasped in enough air to feed it, and one racking sob gave way to another. I was never going to see Callum again.
I could feel the tears stream down my face, splashing on to the ground in front of me. My chest continued to heave with sobs and I struggled for breath. All I wanted was a huge hole to open up in front of me so that I could throw myself in, to be oblivious, and to feel no more pain.
As I had that thought, I realised that this was how the Dirges felt every single day. I couldn’t imagine waking up to this every single morning, knowing that it was going on forever and that there was no way out. I felt a moment of pity for them. And for Callum. However hard I tried to empty my mind of thoughts of him, I couldn’t escape the memory of his gentle smile, his strong shoulders, the passion in his eyes. Part of me still wanted to believe that someone who seemed so good couldn’t be so heartless and cruel. But every time my mind went round in the same circle, it came back to his evasions and lies.
I had been betrayed; I felt that I could never allow myself to trust or love anyone so much again. A new haze of anger slowly started to creep over my thoughts and my tears began to dry. I would not let him ruin my life. I would find someone to love who would love me too.
But I couldn’t hold on to the anger, and I couldn’t hold on to my thoughts of a better future. The despair was just teasing me, just waiting to rear up and claim me again. As I thought of Callum the pain returned, causing me to gasp out loud.
“Excuse me, Miss, but I’m going to be shutting the maze soon, and…”
I opened my eyes and saw the guy from the ticket office. I could see the shock on his face as I looked at him. He took a quick step back, then steadied himself.
“I didn’t want to disturb you, but a couple of people have told me that you may be stuck in here. I can show you out if you want,” he continued.
“No, it’s fine,” I said in a voice scratchy from all the sobbing. I was glad that the tears had dried. I didn’t want his pity. “I can find my way out. Thank you anyway.”
I stood up and walked towards the exit. The embarrassed cough came again.
“I can let you through the quick exit if you’d prefer.”
It was easier to give in and within a minute I was back outside the maze. I could hear the sigh of relief from the ticket collector as he scurried back to his hut, locking the gate as he went.
I looked around me. The gardens near me were deserted, but I could hear people further off. I realised that the sun was low in the sky and glanced at my watch. It was getting late.
I fished my mobile out of my bag. It had been on silent during lessons earlier and I hadn’t switched it back on. There were nine missed calls from Grace, Josh and my mum. There was never going to be one from Callum, though, I realised bleakly. Be strong, I told myself sternly. Don’t think about it. I made myself walk as I retrieved the messages. Grace’s messages started off normally then got progressively more worried. Josh had left one when I didn’t get on the coach and Mum had got in on the act when he arrived home without me.
I couldn’t face talking so I sent them each a text saying I would be home within an hour. I just needed a little more time.
I slowly made my way through the park towards the palace. As it was late all the doors were getting closed up, but I could walk through the courtyards. The old buildings loomed above me, steeped in history and memories. Once more, my mind raced towards the Dirges. Had they been here, I wondered, taking the memories of royalty in the past? I had always loved the palace, it was so full of secrets and possibilities, but today it just seemed sad.
I walked out of the front entrance to the palace buildings and down to the Thames. This stretch wasn’t tidal like the Twickenham section, but it was still really wide with vicious-looking currents. I stared into its depths and wished that I had never seen the amulet in there. I could now quite understand why someone would tie it to a rock and throw it in. I felt like doing the same, or perhaps smashing it with the rock instead.
I glanced around hopefully, but this towpath was far too manicured to have the sort of rock I was hoping for. Instead I turned my attention to my bag; the amulet was lying there looking beautiful and innocent. There was no trace of movement in the stone now. It was as if the fire had gone out in the stone at the same time as the fire had gone out of Callum’s eyes.
If I just grasped it, I could have him back. I could make the fire dance again. The thought was there before my conscious, sensible side could squash it. I felt the tears well up again. I knew that the right thing to do was to throw the amulet into the river immediately. But what if I was wrong? What if there had been a hideous mistake? I couldn’t bear to throw away my only link to him. I stood on the bank as a war raged inside me.
Finally, I made my decision: the amulet had to go. I reached into my bag and found a pencil, then scooped it up. It had to go. It was heavy enough to sink well even without the rock. I just needed to fling it as far as I could into the middle.
As I stretched back my arm to throw, the amulet slid down the pencil and over the tip of my thumb.
The voice in my head was sudden and loud, and without thinking I clapped my hands to my ears, clutching the cold metal tightly.
I could hear his beautiful voice, now ragged with grief, pleading relentlessly, “No! Don’t! Please! Don’t go! Don’t…” The memory of his beautiful face, his gentle mouth, and his electrifying touch, the knowledge that he was near, all conspired to break my resolve. I knew I couldn’t throw it into the river.
But neither could I listen. I dropped the amulet back into my bag and my head was suddenly silent. The anguish in his voice had been unbearable. I could almost believe that he did mean it, that he did love me, but the piercing memory of his look of panic and evasion when I had caught him out told me that he was a liar and I needed to break away.
I stepped back from the edge of the river, trying to stay calm. People were walking past with their dogs, oblivious to my turmoil. I needed to walk, I decided, so I turned and started marching back to the gate. It was a couple of miles home from here, but if I could keep up a good pace I would get back before they started to worry again.
I rummaged around in my bag for my iPod, being very careful not to touch the amulet. I let loud music flood my head and I refused to let myself think as I set off down the road.
By the time I got home I was exhausted. I didn’t want to face endless questions, so I knew I had to tell them something that would keep them quiet.
“Where have you been, sweetheart?” asked my mum. “We were starting to get worried.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, as smoothly as possible. “I just had a bit of a row with one of the girls at school, and I needed a bit of space so I went to Hampton Court for a walk.” I felt better telling her something which was as near to the truth as possible.
She looked at me shrewdly. “Do you want to talk about it at all, or would you rather not?”
“Really rather not.” I tried to smile and nearly made it. “What’s for dinner?” I attempted to sound interested, though I knew I couldn’t eat.
“I was going to make a curry,” she started, “but if you would prefer to have something simpler…”
I shot her a grateful look. “I think that would be best. Perhaps I’ll just make myself a sandwich and have a bath.”
“Whatever you want, darling.” She smiled gently as she reached over to give me a kiss.
I kept myself busy for a couple of hours, but as bedtime approached I started to get nervous. I could fee
l the misery just waiting for me, ready to engulf me again. I needed something where I could lose myself, that wouldn’t remind me of him at all. My eye fell on my bookshelf, and I scanned along the length of it, mentally discarding titles as I went. Too much romance. None of them would do.
Outside my bedroom the big family bookcase was groaning with paperbacks. Mum refused to throw books away as a matter of principle, so there was years of reading material available. But I couldn’t risk something I didn’t know, and I really didn’t want the violence in all the cop and war stories. Finally I spotted something perfect: the Harry Potter books. In the early volumes there was no hint of romance, and the stories were compelling enough to keep me going even after reading them a dozen times before.
I grabbed a book and settled down in my bed. I hoped that I was tired enough to drop off while reading, although it was barely dark outside.
The plan worked for a while, but in the end my mind began to wander away from the plot. I remembered Callum’s face, and his last, desperate words. The misery, spotting its chance, leapt up to bite me.
My heart felt as if was quite broken, as if no part of it would ever really function again. The pain was almost physical in its intensity, and I curled up in a ball to try and protect myself from it, but it was no good. The tears forced their way out again, running in streams across my face and soaking my pillow. Every time I shut my eyes I could see his face, that dazzling smile and those beautiful eyes. I could see them twinkle as he laughed, his head thrown back, his strong arms around me. And I could feel his touch, as gentle as a feather as he traced a line down my arm or brushed my neck with his lips.
And all of it was a lie, I reminded myself harshly, as a sob rose in my throat. I pressed my face into the pillow so the noise wouldn’t carry.
As the night wore on I found myself going over each and every conversation we had ever had, looking for clues. Every time I remembered one of his evasive comments the knife in my heart twisted again. He had taken me in so completely. The more I thought about it, the more sure I was that Catherine was right.
Something else was niggling in the back of my mind, something she had said, but my exhausted brain couldn’t bring it back.
It wasn’t until dawn broke and the light started to filter through my curtains that I finally fell asleep.
I didn’t sleep long, and when I woke up, my blanket of misery was wrapped tightly around me. My heart was utterly empty.
I got through the school morning as if I was surrounded by a thick fog, struggling to answer any questions sensibly. Grace was obviously worried about me, but there was nothing I could tell her, and in the end she gave up questioning me. I went for a long walk at lunchtime, and made it as far as the park. The stream that went through it was a popular nesting place for ducks, and I had come here often as a kid at this time of year to see the ducklings following their parents in straggly lines through the reeds.
Today a pair of swans had taken up residence and they were protecting their brood. There were six beautiful little cygnets – fluffy grey balls – and as they saw me watching them they all scrambled up on to their mother’s back inside the protection of her powerful wings. The heads were bobbing up and down so quickly I could hardly count them and they looked so comical that for a moment I felt myself smile a little.
Then the misery-blanket reclaimed me, and the tiny bit of joy was squeezed from my heart.
Was this the swan I rescued? I wondered. Was it responsible for how I felt now? I knew it was ridiculous to blame a harmless bird for my own actions and decisions, but I couldn’t look at it any more. I turned away and retraced my steps back to school, forcing myself to walk as quickly as possible. The afternoon was no better. It was impossible to concentrate and Mr Pasciuta was clearly getting frustrated by my reluctance to participate in the class.
“Are you unwell again, Alex?” he demanded, handing me the option to get out of the class. Although I didn’t really want to be alone, the idea of struggling through more of the maths class with all its fresh and painful memories from a few days ago appealed even less.
“I think I have a migraine coming, sir. Do you mind if I go to the common room?” Even to me my voice sounded dull and disengaged.
“No, that’s fine. It’s probably best for you to stay there until it’s time for the coaches,” he agreed. “Get the homework from someone else tomorrow.”
In the common room I threw myself down on a beanbag and stared at the ceiling.
Something kept slipping from my grasp. I still felt that Catherine had said something important, something that might help, but I couldn’t remember what it was. I hated the thought of replaying my conversation with her in my head, but I had to know. I tried not to dwell on the details of his betrayal as I went through it all. What was it? She had been quite happy to bring my world crashing down, and then she had said she could help.
I sat up suddenly: that was it! Catherine had told me that there was a way out, that she could help me. I couldn’t imagine what it was, how she was going to be able to do that, but if there was some way of stopping the pain I had to find out what it was. For the first time in over twenty-four hours I felt a tiny sense of purpose.
I had to talk to Catherine, but not summon Callum. She had said that if I called her name she would come, but if I touched the amulet he might appear. I wondered if he was still listening to me, or if he had gone back to Olivia. I guessed there was no reason for him to be worrying about me any more, now he realised that I knew what he was planning, so it would be safe to call. The misery tightened its grip as I thought about Olivia and I realised that I had to try to call Catherine.
I looked around the common room – it was almost entirely empty. I decided that I could risk a conversation in here as long as I had my phone earpiece in place. I set it up and opened the pocket in my bag where I had hidden the amulet. I curled one finger around the band and called out.
“Catherine, it’s Alex. We need to talk.”
I took my finger away and waited for a few minutes, trying not to breathe too fast, and trying not to think about the possibility of summoning Callum instead of his sister. After I had counted slowly to a hundred I nervously slipped the amulet on to my wrist and called again.
“Catherine, are you there?”
There was a familiar tingle and I winced as I waited to see which voice would speak.
“I knew you would call.” Her voice was matter of fact, and I was pleased that I wasn’t looking in a mirror. I didn’t want to see her face: it would only remind me of Callum’s.
“I did what you said,” I admitted. “And I asked him my questions. He didn’t deny anything, so I have told him that I never want to see him again.” Just telling her the story so briefly was unbearably painful.
“I’m sorry for you. I really am. He is a very good liar. It’s not your fault that you believed all his stories.”
I didn’t want her sympathy, and I wanted to rip the amulet off again as soon as I could, so I pressed on. “You said that after I had spoken to him, you would be able to help me. What did you mean by that?”
“I can help you, Alex. I can make it seem as if all this never happened.”
“How do you mean?”
“Think about it. What is it that we do?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I tried not to snap at her in my haste to get through this conversation. I had no idea if Callum could hear us, or was nearby, and I couldn’t bear to think about it.
“Every day, I go out and I take memories from people,” she explained. “Whatever they are thinking at the time, I come along and – bouf – it’s gone.” She paused for a moment. “I can take away every memory of Callum from you. It will be as if he never existed.”
I felt a cold chill in my heart. Would that be better? To forget everything about him? To go back to being the girl I was on the riverbank in Twickenham before I found the amulet? I had wanted that yesterday, but I hadn’t thought that it was possible. Now it
was being offered to me, did I really want it? I would have no memory of him at all, no picture of his face, no recollection of his touch, his laugh, his smile. I didn’t know if I could bear the loss of forgetting … but it was so hard to bear the pain of remembering. I couldn’t decide, not so quickly. “I need some time,” I told Catherine. “Can I call you again later when I’ve made up my mind?”
“I don’t know why it’s so tough. All your misery would be gone in an instant. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I’m not going to make a decision right now. I have to think, and you’ll need to tell me how it would work. I need to prepare.”
“Fine. Call me later, but don’t forget, the longer you leave your decision, the more memory I’m going to have to take, so you really need to decide quickly. I’ll talk to you soon.”
She was gone. I took the earpiece out and sank back in the beanbag. Around me the few girls in the common room continued reading, working and talking. I could be just like one of them again if I accepted Catherine’s offer. It was so tempting. But to forget everything completely – to forget what it felt like to realise that I loved him, to not know the joy when I realised he loved me too – could I bring myself to lose all that?
But then, none of it was real. Everything he had said to me, every time he’d said he loved me, it was all lies. And what was the point in remembering lies?
I sat there for an hour, struggling with my decision. Girls came and went as the bell rang for next lesson, but no one disturbed me. Every time I thought I had my answer, I wavered. Eventually I curled up into a small ball with my arms around my head. My exhausted brain couldn’t cope with all of this. It was all too difficult and I wished it would all just go away.
My eyes snapped open. I realised that my answer was held in my wish: I wanted it to go away, and I could make it go away. I would call Catherine later and work out the details. I felt a strange peace settle over me as I closed my eyes again and tried to doze.