Thea stopped swinging her legs. How had he seen her? He must have followed her from the Centre, all the way to the monastery—
‘Here.’ He grabbed something from the desk and offered it to her.
Blinking, Thea saw a chocolate bar in his hand.
He smiled. ‘There’s no staff restriction on chocolate – that’s just for the clients, y’know, to keep you healthy. So, technically this is contraband. But I won’t tell if you won’t.’
Tell. There it was: her chance again. Tell him, she thought, as she looked at the chocolate bar and up into his kind eyes. But she’d probably imagined it, hadn’t she? It had been a bit of plastic fluttering in the wind, a bird, an old bit of paper, a trick of the eye.
Not a face.
Chapter 11
‘The white-crowned sparrow, when it is migrating and has to be in flight constantly, can go pretty much completely without sleep. Nifty little trick, right? But, get this, the bird does this with nearly no side effects.’
Weirdly for a lecturer specializing in sleep, it didn’t look as if he got much: he was twitchy and hollow-eyed. He stopped here to let his words sink in, smoothing back his threadbare hair.
Thea had been attending these Sleep School lectures for a few days now. Sometimes, she realized during those lectures, she was so busy looking thoughtful and attentive that she forgot to listen to what the lecturer was actually saying. She quickly corrected that now and tuned back into him.
‘Imagine you are that bird, hmm?’ the lecturer continued. Thea wrote down notes; there might be some sort of test on all of this and she didn’t like to fail at things. Failing at sleep was enough. ‘Every spring and autumn, tens of thousands of white-crowned sparrows (Zonotrichia leucophrys) migrate the 4,000 kilometres between Alaska and Southern California. They fly day and night with little chance for rest. Imagine it: flapping away constantly, on the move to your winter home, you can’t fall asleep because you’d plummet from the sky and die. You’ve also got to keep an eye out for predators and keep yourself fed. Solution? Stay awake, of course! Scientists are currently trying to understand what is going on in the bird’s brain at that time, especially … and this is the key part … especially as these birds sleep two-thirds less than normal yet, in certain tests conducted, performed no worse than other sparrows on tasks of learning and memory.’
He paused for a moment.
The man a seat away from Thea was drawing a bird in his notebook; it had angry, bloodshot eyes and a coffee cup held between two wings. The speech bubble coming from it said, ‘Caffeine! I need more caffeine!’
‘Imagine it, hmm? Imagine not having to waste all that time asleep … and for it to have absolutely no effect on your physical and mental wellbeing. Well, Morpheus is already imagining that.’
Surreptitiously, Thea glanced at her phone. Without internet connection or a mobile signal, it was now nothing more than an ornament. She didn’t know why she continued to carry it around with her, much less why she couldn’t help but glance at it throughout the day, checking for notifications that would never appear. The landline phones meant Thea had got a few calls in with her mother:
‘So, teapot. Cured yet?’
‘Mum, you are aware that you’ve asked that every time I’ve phoned you? And I phone you every day!’
‘Well, clever company like them, they should have got it sorted by now. Are you?’
‘NO!’
‘I’d be thinking about getting my money back, if I were you.’
‘It doesn’t work like that.’
‘Oh. Well, that’s disappointing. Are you eating?’
‘Yes, Mum. You’d love it, it’s all avocado and mung beans. Actually, you wouldn’t like the coffee. They call it that but really it’s some kind of evil concoction made of—’
‘I heard of a drug trial once. They gave them all something for the common cold and it made their hair fall out. All of their hair, even, y’know, the hair on their—’
‘My hair hasn’t fallen out, so we’re okay.’
‘Made any friends?’
Thea rolled her eyes. ‘Not yet, we’ve only been here a few days. And I’m not six, thanks, Mother. Want to also check I’m wearing clean knickers and eating my breakfast? Look, I have to dash—’
‘Wait! Before you go, I’ve thought of a safe phrase you can say if it turns out to be a cult and they start to listen in – that is, if they’re not already.’
‘Mum!’
‘So this is it okay? I’m really missing the cat. That’s the phrase.’
Thea hadn’t even known that they still made phone handsets like those – chunky, curved white things that people used to have fixed to their walls in Nineties sitcoms. The room had been big enough to fit a side table and a comfortable chair, one of a few similar places scattered around the Client Bubble that had to be booked before use. Thea had thought it would be tricky to get a slot with fifty people trying to phone home at the same time like a bunch of lemming ETs – but she hadn’t had a problem so far.
‘Unfortunately, we are not little white-crowned sparrows,’ the lecturer continued. ‘Well, not yet anyway—’ Cue some polite laughter. ‘There are some people who can actually survive on only a few hours’ sleep, say two or three, and who don’t seem to have any ill effects. The Sleepless Elite, we jokingly call them. Let these people not be mistaken for some celebrities who insist they do fine on such shortened sleep, but their erratic, ill-judged behaviour would suggest otherwise. Name no names, eh?’ More laughter. The lecturer brightened up.
In front of her was the frizzy-haired woman who had given Thea chocolate during yoga. She had used her name badge as a hair clip and stabbed pencils into her hair, arranging them so they stuck out like a spiky tiara. Rosie, the badge told Thea. There was a heart drawn over the letter i. One pencil drooped and fell onto Thea’s desk with a clatter that made heads turn. Rosie tried to pull the other pencils out, but one snagged and hung precariously, dangling over Thea’s notes until she reached out, carefully unwound the hair where it had caught on the metal part of the eraser and tapped Rosie on the shoulder.
‘Thanks,’ Rosie whispered, taking the pencil from her. She smiled.
Thea was somewhat startled when she felt her desk tremble as a scuffed boot came into view. The woman calmly climbed over the desk, apologizing as she sent other people’s notebooks and pens sliding to the floor, and plonked herself down next to Thea.
‘Hi!’ She smiled brightly. ‘I’m Rosie.’
Heads turned again. Thea felt the heat in her cheeks, but the lecturer continued, oblivious.
‘The technology each of you is currently wearing is light years ahead of any rival company. The leaps we are making …’ The lecturer glanced sideways as if someone was watching from the wings. He coughed.
Rosie spoke to herself, ‘Hello, Rosie, nice to meet you. My name’s’ – she took a look at Thea’s badge – ‘Thea – ooh, nice name.’
This time, Thea was almost sure the lecturer frowned at her. She slouched in her seat. Rosie yawned dramatically, ‘Are you bored yet?’
The lecturer raised his voice. ‘But, hey, I am jumping ahead of myself a bit here, aren’t I? Let’s get back to the here and now, hmm? As a society we are now realizing that sleep, once denigrated and dismissed as a weakness almost, could actually hold the key for mankind’s next evolutionary leap.’
Thea yawned and black blobs drifted across her vision. Eye floaters. An optician had explained that the jelly substance in some people’s eyes could become more liquid and then bits of it could clump together to do laps across their vision. ‘No need to worry,’ her optician had reassured her. It had certainly sounded worrying. Her eyeballs were literally melting and bits of them were indulging in a spot of synchronized swimming but that, apparently, was okay.
She yawned again and tried to hide it this time in case she offended the lecturer. The first few nights in a new place were always tough: pillow too soft, then too hard, duvet too warm, then too col
d and there was always a light blinking somewhere. It made holidays such a joy.
Thea glanced around at the others near her, all of them with their little silver dots attached to their temples. She wondered how many hours each one of them had slept that night. One man called Richard with a scrawny neck and a thin-lipped tortoise head was already nodding off, his head dipping to a rhythm of its own. Head jerking too low, he woke himself up, caught Thea’s eye and gave her a sheepish smile.
‘We’re not even allowed coffee, y’know,’ Rosie stage-whispered again. ‘Well, they call it coffee, what they serve, but it’s made from mushrooms or something. Not magic ones either. Not that I’ve tried magic mushrooms, have you?’
Thea wasn’t sure Rosie was trying her best at the whole whispering thing.
‘Shush,’ Thea gently admonished, stifling a smile.
‘Sorry.’
‘And no. I haven’t tried magic mushrooms.’
Rosie took a look around at everyone else and then raised her voice just that little bit more. ‘Do you want to?’
Thea couldn’t help but laugh. Someone shushed them and that made her want to laugh even more. She didn’t think she’d ever been shushed in her entire life.
The lecturer coughed. ‘Luckily, you are here, at the heart of cutting-edge research into the science of sleep. But that is only a start. Wait until you find out the kind of learning the brain can do whilst you sleep – you will be astounded. And that will be the focus of our next lecture. Thank you for …’
A bell rang. Rosie gave a little fist pump. People began to move, gathering pads of paper and pens. The lecturer had to shout the end of his sentence.
‘… listening.’
‘So – I’ve decided. You’re going to be my friend during all of this. Sorry but you don’t get a choice, okay?’
Outside the lecture theatre, Rosie linked her arm through Thea’s and gave her a little lopsided smile.
‘What if I turn out to be a nightmare?’ Thea asked, trying to keep up with Rosie’s pace.
‘Well, the best friendships are those you have to work at – or some such bollocks. Don’t be a nightmare. Simple!’
Thea laughed. Rosie was wearing her cult top knotted at the middle and had tied a bright green ribbon around the waistband of her trousers. One of her pencils fell out of her hair and clattered to the floor. She rushed to rescue it. Thea tried to think of something to say, but luckily Rosie had enough to say for the both of them.
‘Look at us all,’ Rosie gestured to the other clients coming out of the hall. ‘So, you have now officially joined The Desperados, the worst-dressed bunch of people ever – with added head jewellery!’ She tapped at her disc. Around hers she’d drawn a heart. ‘I would ask you what you’re doing later, y’know, small talk – but we all know that this afternoon will be another round of torture in the gym and more prodding by the lab nerds.’
‘Did someone say lab nerd?’ Rory appeared so suddenly at Rosie’s side she jumped and lost another pencil from her hair. ‘I do like to appear when summoned.’
Thea laughed and stopped Rosie’s pencil from rolling away with her foot. ‘Rosie, this is Rory. He works here.’
‘And obviously by lab nerd, I meant highly intelligent and well-respected member of staff, yeah?’ She regrouped, grabbed the pencil and twirled it as if it was a mini baton.
‘Ah, I’m okay with nerd, don’t worry.’ He surreptitiously slid a chocolate bar out of the inside pocket of his white coat and passed it to Thea, looking around to see who was watching in an exaggerated way, whilst she slid it up her sleeve. ‘See ya later. Got to practise my prodding.’
Rosie snorted.
‘No! Wait!’ Rory backed away. ‘That came out wrong. Let’s all just believe I said something witty and cool, yeah?’ And he walked off.
Rosie raised her eyebrows meaningfully at Thea. ‘Well, I see you’ve already been busy making a friend.’
‘Do you want some of the chocolate or not?’
Rosie began to sing quietly, ‘Thea and Rory sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N—’
But she never got to G because Thea flicked the pencil out of her fingers and they both headed towards the doorway, laughing.
Perhaps this would work, Thea thought, as she walked through the double doors, arm safely linked in Rosie’s, Rory’s chocolate bar nestled against her wrist. Perhaps, despite the fever-sheen walls and cult clothes, the glimpse of white in the monastery window and the cold metal at her temples … perhaps this was exactly what she needed.
Chapter 12
A week later and, for Thea, the world around her, which had been grey and flat like a broken pop-up book, suddenly sprang open.
There was no doubt about it: she was getting more sleep.
Not much. She fell asleep at around 7 a.m., but now she was waking later, nearer 10 a.m. The usual one hour of sleep had blossomed into nearly three. Those hours were a cool aloe vera gel smoothed onto her brain and eyes.
Odd hours though. She couldn’t get away from that. It was as if her body was fighting sleep the whole night and then, like a stubborn toddler, gave in just as the day started for everyone else. If this was her normal sleep pattern then she would be seriously out of step with … well, the world.
Sleep therapy took place in a room with one curved white wall and a view of the old monastery. Seeing its streaked stone and ravaged eyes reminded Thea of that twilit walk she’d taken over a week ago. She turned away.
It was a bit of plastic fluttering in the wind, a bird, an old bit of paper, a trick of the light.
Not a face.
Rosie patted the empty seat next to her and Thea sat down.
When was the last time someone other than her mother had saved a chair for her? Thea wondered. It took her far too long to come up with an answer.
They had been put into ‘families’ for most group sessions, each one overseen by a sleep guru. Thea’s family consisted of about ten people and she only knew the names of a handful.
‘I used to have an Action Ken to go with my Barbie when I was little.’ Rosie stared dreamily at one of their group, Ethan, over her cup of mushroom coffee as they waited for the session to start. ‘And that guy over there is exactly like a walking Action Ken! You would, wouldn’t you?’ She angled Thea’s face towards him. ‘Wouldn’t you? You would.’
She wouldn’t let go of Thea’s face until she’d agreed that yes, she would. Which she did because Rosie holding her chin and staring at her intently was starting to catch people’s attention. Including Ethan’s.
‘I wonder what he’s in for?’ Rosie continued. ‘I’d like to see one of those people who just fall asleep anywhere. I saw it on a documentary once. They, like, sneeze, and then just collapse to the ground, completely asleep. It’s amazing. I get these night terrors, right? Like, awful, awful night terrors. I wake up screaming, then the dog starts howling and I’m sweating like I’ve run a marathon. It’s just wrong. I mean, I’m single at the mo, but that could change, you know, any day now, and I can’t be waking him up every night like a banshee, can I? It’d put him off. What’s your thing?’
Rosie made it sound a bit like a superpower.
‘I just don’t sleep much,’ Thea replied, a little dazed because talking to Rosie was like being on permanent fast-forward. ‘Don’t get to sleep until it’s time to wake up for work in the morning.’
‘Whoa. Weird.’
On one side of the room there were little canapé trays of vegetables masquerading as something more enticing. Rosie got up and filled a plate, thoughtfully picking through the selection before returning to her seat.
‘Being awake for so long on your own must be boring though, no?’ she said, unwinding a carrot concoction. ‘What do you do with all that time?’
‘Read.’
Rosie blinked.
‘Think.’
Rosie blinked again.
‘Watch television sometimes …’
Rosie’s face lit up. ‘I love a good box set!
But not those nature docs – they’re brutal. I do not want to see another baby seal being mutilated while I’m eating my Pot Noodle.’
But Thea was hardly listening. In her mind she was back at the monastery walls as the daylight slunk away, looking up at a flicker of movement in the window.
Harriet tapped on her tablet a few more times and then stood up, clapping her hands once for order.
‘Okay, everyone. Let’s make a start.’
Thea saw Ethan mutter something to himself. Harriet turned and smiled at him.
‘Let’s start with you, Ethan,’ she said brightly, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder with slightly more vehemence than was needed. ‘Everyone, this is Ethan’s space. Ethan, tell us why you’re here.’
‘Because you’re paying me.’ He crossed one ankle over a knee and studied a fingernail. Rosie’s description of him as a Ken doll wasn’t so far off the mark, Thea thought, except a Ken doll had a happy smile painted on his chiselled face.
‘Yes. How droll.’ Harriet narrowed her eyes. ‘I meant, why can’t you sleep? You have nightmares, yes?’
‘Ooh! We have something in common!’ Rosie whispered excitedly to Thea.
Ethan switched his concentration to something on the sole of his shoe.
‘You have no trouble going to sleep but then are woken up by the nightmares and can’t fall asleep again. Am I correct?’
Ethan put his foot back down and, for a moment, just sat there with his hands on his knees, staring at the floor. Then he stood, quickly fixing Harriet with a challenging stare.
‘Sorry, Harriet. Got to go to the bathroom. You’ll have to start with someone else.’
He walked off and Harriet pressed her lips together firmly, as if trying to stop herself from saying something. She took a deep breath and then switched her smile back on.
‘So? Anyone else like to start?’
Luckily, hands went up. Thea couldn’t remember many of the others’ names apart from a couple. One of them was Moira, a middle-aged woman with thick, round, owlish glasses. She went sleepwalking almost every night. ‘Which is scary because I live alone and what happens if I manage to get the front door open? Once I even made myself a peanut butter and jam sandwich, completely asleep!’ She yawned. ‘And I don’t even like peanut butter and jam! But at least I know why I can’t ever lose any damn weight …’
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