by S. C. Ransom
My next lesson was chemistry, and Miss Amos was covering the theory of mass spectroscopy. I had to concentrate to make any sense of it at all, which was useful: I didn’t spend the entire lesson thinking about Callum and worrying about what Catherine was going to do to me.
At break time I went back to the common room. I checked my bag again; the package was still safe at the top, ready for Grace when it was all over.
Real fear started to churn in my stomach, and I wondered once again what it would be like. Could I really trust Catherine? And another anxiety started to mount too: I only had another hour or so to think about Callum, and then he would be gone from my life forever.
I suddenly felt really ill. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to be sick. I made a quick exit to the loos, ignoring the surprised looks from all my friends.
I rested my forehead against the inside of the toilet door and counted to ten slowly. The nausea subsided a little, and after a few more minutes I felt calm enough to leave the cubicle. At the sinks, I splashed some cold water on my face.
As I reached for a paper towel a screaming wail filled the air, making me jump. The fire alarm was even more loud and shocking than normal in the confined space of the toilets.
I quickly dried my face and joined the others heading for the door. Outside in the corridor Mr Pasciuta was shouting instructions.
“This is not a drill. Leave immediately, don’t stop for your belongings. Go straight to the evacuation point.”
There was a surging crowd of girls heading down the stairs, and I was carried along by the flow. Not one of us believed it was an emergency: we could smell the burnt toast coming from the common room. Someone was going to be in big trouble.
Out on the playing fields we all lined up, waiting for the register to be taken. I could see no sign of Grace. I asked a few of the others but no one seemed sure where she was, and my phone, I realised, was in the side pocket of my bag, which was still in the common room.
It took forever for the fire brigade to decide that we could go back to lessons, and while we waited we were treated to another lecture.
No one seemed at all bothered about getting back inside except me. I didn’t want to be parted from my bag and the package with the amulet, and being without it was making me more and more anxious. I had no idea what would happen if the time for the transfer came and I didn’t have it. Would Catherine notice and wait? Would she come back and try again later? I would have felt calmer if I had completely trusted Catherine, but there was something about her that nagged at the back of my mind. I would be glad to have this over and done with.
We were all suddenly called to order by a sharp command from the headmistress. This part of the lecture was short and to the point – I had rarely seen her so angry.
“Twice within a fortnight, girls! This is truly disgraceful.” She pulled herself up to her full height and started scanning the audience. We all quickly dropped our eyes.
“The Chief Fire Officer and I are extremely disappointed with your behaviour. Every toaster in the school will be removed this afternoon and every girl in the sixth form common room this morning will receive a detention. Now, back inside. We’ve wasted half an hour of valuable school time.”
Was it half an hour already? I looked at my watch in a panic. Catherine had agreed to come at eleven and it was ten-fifteen now. I edged towards the front of the crowd as we all started to file back into the building.
I just wanted to get to my rucksack, and I started walking as fast as I could, resisting the temptation to run. I got ahead of most of my friends, and broke into a trot as I hit the stairs. The first floor corridor was still deserted, so no one saw me sprint along it.
I was the first back into the common room, and I clutched my tatty old bag to my chest with a sigh of relief. I still had more than half an hour. I began to edge my way back downstairs, suddenly aware that my heart was pounding.
As I walked, I heaved the rucksack on to my back, taking my mobile out of the side pocket to call Grace. There was one new text message. I started to read it as I made my way downstairs, then stopped dead.
I whipped the bag off my shoulder and ripped it open. There was no package. I pushed aside books and files and checked every corner but it wasn’t there. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and a cold finger of fear ran down my spine. Eloïse practically fell over me as she climbed the stairs. “What is it, Alex? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Have – have you seen Grace today?” I asked.
She looked at me curiously. “Yes, of course. We were in geography earlier, and then she was in the common room. Now she’s gone on the environmental studies field visit to Kew Gardens. They left just before the fire alarm. Have you two had a row?”
“Um, no. I just had something important to tell her.”
“It’ll have to wait then, they’ll be hours yet. I did that trip last week: it’s cool. We did the Treetop Walkway. Grace’s team have gone with the group from the boys’ school.” She was shouting the last bit over her shoulder as the queue of impatient girls behind her pushed her up the stairs. I steadied myself against the wall.
Think! I told myself. I clenched my fists until the nails dug into my palms. I hadn’t thought about what would happen if Grace got the package without me being there, without me being able to control when she took it away. I had only been separated from my rucksack for a few minutes in the toilets before the alarms went off, but it had been too long.
The text from Grace had made it all very clear:
Got package. All v. mysterious. Gone to Kew. Back later. Tell me then. Gx
But Catherine’s instructions had been equally clear: “Make sure you have the amulet in your bag: I need it to locate you. But don’t wear it.”
Now Grace was carrying, but not touching, the amulet. Catherine would start trying to take her memories in about – I looked at my watch – thirty minutes. I remembered with hideous clarity the rest of her description: “If the mind we’re stealing from resists us then the person could be left a shell – barely alive. A person, but empty.”
Grace could be left with nothing – empty, ruined.
I felt a creeping horror, my hands suddenly clammy and the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I knew that whatever happened to Grace, it would be my fault. I had to warn her, and warn her quickly. My fingers were shaking as I tried to call her mobile. It rang, but after a few seconds it switched to voicemail. Grace’s happy, carefree voice sang in my ear. I hadn’t noticed before how long her greeting was. The seconds ticked painfully past, but finally I was able to leave a message.
“Grace, it’s me. It’s really, really important that you get rid of that package immediately! Drop it in the bin or something, please. Do it right now and call me straight back.”
If her phone was still playing up, I realised, it might be hours before she got to hear what I’d said. I needed a back-up plan. I racked my brain to work out who else was doing environmental studies. It wasn’t one of my subjects so I didn’t know the class and I was even less likely to have their phone numbers. I thought about Eloïse – she seemed to know about it. What had she said about the group? I remembered: it was a joint trip with the boy’s school, and I knew someone there who did environmental studies: Rob.
I really didn’t want to call him, but I had no choice. I scrolled down my list of names until I found his number, and pressed the call key. I heard it connect and start to ring, and then there was a click and a recorded voice: he had cut me off.
I couldn’t believe it, so I tried again. The mechanical voice confirmed it: “This mobile may be switched off. Please try later.” I looked at my watch again – I had lost another two minutes. I didn’t know what Catherine would do. What if I was too late, and she started to try to take Grace’s memories? If she was searching for happy memories then Grace would have plenty of those. But Grace would instinctively resist Catherine, I knew that. Would Catherine stop when that happened?
&n
bsp; My worries about Catherine and her motives, the concerns that I’d pushed to the back of my mind in my desperation to be free of my misery, came flooding in. Suddenly, I felt horribly sure that Catherine would take the memories, whether it was Grace in front of her or me. When it was my memories, my identity that had been at risk I’d been willing to silence the voice of caution in my head, but now I felt – no, I knew – that Grace was in dreadful danger.
I had just two choices: either I could keep trying to get a message to her or I could go there and try to get the amulet away from her myself. I realised that the longer I spent trying to find the names and numbers of the others on the trip, the less time I’d have to get there. Scooping up my bag I sprinted down the stairs and out of the nearest door. The car park was at the side of the building and I hoped that none of the teachers would notice my sudden exit.
I fumbled for the car keys as I went, trying not to think about how many laws I was about to break. It was the only way, though: Josh was in an exam so he couldn’t help, and the bus just wasn’t fast enough.
I looked at my watch again as I slid into the driver’s seat. Twenty minutes. Luckily the school gates were open and I was soon on the road. I had to focus on keeping my speed down, though I wanted to floor the accelerator. I made it to the big junction by the dual carriageway and sat drumming my fingers as I waited for a gap in the traffic.
“Don’t stall, don’t stall, don’t stall,” I found myself chanting as I spotted my chance between a big green lorry and a delivery van. I was in luck – the road to Kew was almost empty. I pressed the accelerator down and tried to make up some time.
As I drove I was haunted by a vision of Grace looking bewildered and lost as her memories of Jack were sucked out of her, and couldn’t shake the picture that kept coming next: of her slumped and vacant, her brain scrambled beyond repair. Cold sweat on my palms made my hands slip as I turned into Kew Road with five minutes to go: five minutes to park and search over three hundred acres of garden. My heart sank. How did I ever think that this was going to be possible?
But I knew where they would be. I remembered what Eloïse had said: they were going to the Treetop Walkway in the southeastern part of the gardens, close to where I was now. I could still make it.
I drove along the road until I saw the first visitors’ gate into the gardens. I had been in this entrance a few times years ago but I wasn’t sure if I would remember the way. Cars were parked all down the side of the road, interspersed with big coaches, leaving nowhere to park. I had no time to waste. I pulled up right next to the gate and abandoned the car, looking at my watch. Three minutes.
With an apologetic glance I dodged the small queue of people, vaulted over the ticket barrier and ran for it.
The women behind the ticket office leapt out of her chair and started shouting at me but she had no chance of catching up. I ran as fast as I could. The pain in my lungs was like a fire as I gasped for breath, but I didn’t dare stop.
I could see the walkway ahead of me, just past the Pagoda. I glanced at my watch: it was eleven o’clock. I was too late. Somewhere, somewhere close, Catherine was beginning to suck out Grace’s memories, her feelings and her thoughts, taking things from her that she could never get back. And Grace would be beginning to fight…
I was at the point of collapse when I saw them.
Clustered around the bottom of the Pagoda, the group of sixth formers from the two schools were listening to a lecture. I could see Rob, slouching against the wall and looking bored. I couldn’t see Grace.
I had no breath to shout, but I found a final burst of energy. I sprinted behind the Pagoda, away from the rest of the group, where she had to be. I had no time to explain: the sooner I got to her, the less she would lose.
Finally I saw her standing in the shadow of the strange, oriental building. She was alone and had her back to the wall. For just a moment, I thought that I was in time, but then I noticed her unnatural stillness. She was standing bolt upright, hands held out a little from her sides and with her head angled up. Her eyes were glassy.
I was too late.
As I ran the last few metres I saw her body jerk as if it were being electrocuted. I slid to a halt and reached for her bag, shouting, “Catherine! Stop. You’ve got the wrong person!”
My voice had no effect. I fumbled at the fasteners on Grace’s bag. There was the envelope. Hands shaking, I tore it open and the amulet fell into my lap. I scooped it up and thrust it on to Grace’s wrist, calling again as I held it.
“Catherine, stop! It’s me you want.”
As I shouted, I let go of the amulet and immediately Grace collapsed on to the ground in front of me. For a moment, I felt terror: whatever had happened to Grace could now happen to me, but I had no time to think about it properly. I felt sure that Grace was safe: the amulet would protect her, but in a single frozen second, I realised that my careful plan for the safekeeping of the amulet had gone horribly wrong. Grace wouldn’t know that she shouldn’t wear it, or that she shouldn’t give it back to me. On the grass in front of me I could see the memory card, thrown out of the envelope when I had ripped it open.
It was too late to worry about that now, I couldn’t stop this happening. A spark of comfort flashed through my head: I was about to get my old life back. Thoughts of Callum tumbled through my mind, and I waited for Catherine. I thought of his touch, his smile, his embarrassment at being complimented. Like a speeded-up video, the memories whipped through my mind, dissolving before I could grasp them. I realised with a flicker of panic that somehow Catherine was there and pulling them out of my mind, unravelling the most important part of my life like a thread on a spool.
I tried not to fight, to make the process easy for her and safe for me. The memories continued scrolling past: I saw myself on the beach by the Thames, examining the dazzling blue stone in the bracelet I had found, but then I realised I was thinking about my recent exams … my plotting with Grace to catch the interest of Rob and Jack … Christmas … our family holiday last year in Spain… The memories came faster and faster, and then they were gone. I was now a gawky young teenager, now a child. I saw myself in the playground of the reception class, my long blonde plait flying in my reflection in a window as I tore around with my friends; my parents, shockingly young, teaching me to swim in the pool at Josh’s primary school; my favourite toy, a tattered puppy. All of them were there for an instant before they streamed away from me.
My whole life was disappearing. Everything that made me who I was was being ripped from me. I was watching a video being played along the wall of a tunnel, and I was racing towards the black hole at the end.
Too late I knew that I had been tricked. Through the confused whirl of my past, I could sense a malicious presence standing next to me laughing with delight and triumph.
The blackness advanced and all I could remember was that someone, somewhere had loved me. I clung to that as the last of my memories swirled past me, and I felt myself falling to the floor.
I tried to struggle out of the blackness, groping my way through the strange fog in my mind. But however hard I tried, everything stayed dark. My body felt heavy, my arms lying useless by my sides. Where was I? The fog swirled and thickened and I felt my mind wander – it was much easier than trying to focus on anything. But I knew that I had been somewhere for something important. Someone was waiting for me. I wanted to go back, but I just wasn’t sure how.
I tried to concentrate, but it was no good: nothing was coming to me. My mind was just … blank. I could feel little whispers of thoughts but every time I turned to catch them they were gone like ghosts.
With no real response from my mind, I decided to see if I could get my body to work. I took a deep breath and felt for my fingers. They were there alright – I could feel something pressing down on one of them, but they wouldn’t move. I tried my feet, but couldn’t persuade them to move either. I certainly couldn’t see, I knew that, but maybe I could hear?
Almost as so
on as I had the thought I became aware of a noise in the distance – a short bleep. Then another and another. Now I was aware of it, the sound banged away like a drumbeat. As I listened it got faster, until I felt almost breathless. I tried breathing deeply again, and eventually the bleeping returned to its earlier pace. I couldn’t make it stop though, however carefully I concentrated. I wished that I could go back to the silent fog – it was rather less irritating.
I slowly became aware of another beeping noise, this time slightly further away. Then a slight squeaking noise, like rubber-soled shoes on linoleum.
“Oh dear,” a voice wavered, “oh dear…”
“What is it, Mrs Moyse?”
“Oh dear, oh…”
“Does it still hurt?”
“Where am I supposed to be, dear?” asked the feeble voice.
“You’re in the hospital, Mrs Moyse, don’t try to get up. You are in the intensive care unit. You gave us all a bit of a fright. Your family are outside if you want to see them. Shall I get them for you?”
“Oh dear, I suppose so…”
As the squeaking footsteps disappeared into the distance I became aware of another noise, an almost silent sobbing, as if someone had cried so much there was nothing left.
“Oh, Alex, come back to us,” the woman whispered. “It’s Mum,” she said, her voice catching. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but they don’t know for certain that you can’t, I’m going to keep talking to you until…” Her voice broke, and I felt something wet on my hand.
After a short pause and a lot of sniffing the voice continued. “I wish I knew what happened to you and Grace at the Pagoda. Grace has no memory of it at all. The ambulance men think that maybe you’d been exposed to some kind of fumes or something toxic, but all your tests are negative. I just wish I knew – maybe then we could work out how to help you.”
I tried to clear my head of the creeping fog. Mum? Grace? I felt that I ought to know these people, but there was nothing in my head where the picture of their faces should be. What had I been doing in the Pagoda? What pagoda? The fog was creeping over my thoughts again but I forced myself to keep listening.