The Forevers

by Chris Whitaker

  They turned as a collective and began to walk away from the school.

  Felix headed home to check on his father.

  ‘You mind if we stop at my place first?’ Sail said, appearing beside her.

  ‘Forgot your trunks? No, you just swim in the suit, right.’

  It wasn’t till they walked through the towering gates that she realised it was a trap.

  Flowers lined the driveway.

  Rose petals were laid out in a trail.

  Mae glanced at Sail, he walked on oblivious, like it was nothing to do with him. ‘You know I don’t like this.’

  ‘I know.’

  They followed the trail past the weeping willows, the heavenly scents, the garden awash with colour. Down past the infinity pool, the pathway carved into the rock.

  She saw a small white motorboat at the end of the jetty.

  ‘No grand gestures,’ she said.

  ‘It was this or I burned down your house.’ He took hold of her hand and led her.

  She stepped down into the boat. He pulled the cord and the engine gently hummed.

  Sun caught the water. She kept her mind on the sky, on the hurtling end to keep the perfect day far from reach.

  They moved off slowly, following the curve of the shore, passing the towering mansions, Hugo’s house came into view, Hunter’s in the distance.

  Sail sat at the front, the wind in his hair. She noticed the hamper beside her.

  Mae trailed a hand in the wake, the water cool against the soaring heat.

  They passed the cliffs, white rock so sheer. The steeple of St Cecelia, the way it stood proud above the vista, the town looked spectacular enough that she could not tear her eyes from it, not even when the engine cut and Sail turned to face her.

  They lay back, heads at either end of the boat as they pitched over gentle waves. Sail had had the good sense to pack wine but no glasses, so they passed the bottle back and forth.

  They ate sandwiches and fancy crisps and chocolate cake so good she kept most of her piece for Stella.

  ‘You know I’m going to ask you,’ he said.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You want me to get it over with now or wait?’

  ‘Let’s wait.’

  She splashed her hand in the sea, brought it to her lips and tasted the salt on her fingers. The waves calmed till they stopped drifting, far enough from shore that they could have been the last people in the ocean.

  ‘Three days,’ she said, like she needed to break the perfect apart.

  They saw another boat, this one older but the paint looked fresh.

  It came slowly, so close Mae stood when she saw Mr Starling at the wheel.

  She raised a hand, he saw her and slowed right beside them.

  Sail stood and guided the motorboat closer, took a line and tied it off.

  He helped Mae climb over, then sat back and bobbed with the waves.

  ‘Of all the places in all the seas,’ Mr Starling said.

  She looked at the small deck, then down to the cabin below. She saw canned food, a sleeping bag and a case of wine. Beside that was a container of diesel.

  ‘Are you taking a trip?’

  ‘I mean, my boat can’t compete with yours.’

  She looked over at Sail, who was lying back in the sun, his eyes closed to the sky.

  ‘How’s school?’ he said.

  ‘I’m in a boat on a Tuesday morning.’

  He laughed.

  She sat on the edge, ran a hand over the polished wood. ‘I found out some things about Abi.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I’m not sure what to do about it.’

  He sat beside her. He looked older then, like he’d lived too many lives. ‘I read Abi’s paper. In the service book. The Forevers.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said.

  ‘Even in death she’d get top marks. She was a brilliant student, Mae. With everything going on, she didn’t miss a paper, didn’t ever drop a grade.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’

  He smiled. ‘Sometimes the fallout, it’s too great. If we can’t rewind time, do we sully the future?’

  ‘I’m not sure I understand.’ She watched a razorbill swoop, clutch at the water but come up empty handed. ‘So I do nothing. I can’t bring Abi back –’

  ‘You’re tough, Mae. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.’

  ‘You’re not making any sense.’ She looked around again, his life all packed up. ‘When will you be back, Mr Starling?’

  He smiled but said nothing, and then she got it.

  ‘You’re not coming back?’

  ‘None of us are, Mae. Despite what they say.’ He reached into the cabin and took a framed photo from the side. ‘My wife. She’s all I ever had, and all I ever needed. So I’ll aim my boat at the endless, and maybe I’ll take my Forever back.’

  ‘Saviour 10. Will it work?’

  She could see him weighing options, but knew he would not lie to her.

  ‘No, Mae. It won’t. Not for us.’

  She nodded, and then she stepped forward and hugged him briskly.

  Sail helped her back.

  She watched the small fishing boat till the horizon took it.

  As the cliffs parted he eased the boat towards the rocks. She was about to ask when they rounded the furthest, and then she saw it. The cave mouth was low and he guided the boat with skill that told her how different their lives had been.

  They went from sun to shade, the light cut to almost pitch black before she lay back and gasped.

  ‘I didn’t even know this was here, right beneath us,’ she said.

  Minerals caught what little light made it through and sparkled like lost treasure.

  He sat beside her as they floated in the hidden world.

  They lost an hour watching the colours before they headed back.

  As they approached the jetty she turned to him. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Not asking me to the Final today.’

  ‘You said no, and I respect that. But could you do me a favour and not turn around.’

  Mae turned, and on the jetty she saw it. The banner was large and crudely painted.

  MAE AND SAIL.

  THE FINAL?

  ‘Stella helped me. And Felix tied it there.’

  ‘Judas bastard.’

  She looked up at the looming house, the tended grounds, and then down at her worn sandals, chipped polish on her nails.

  ‘You know no good can come of this,’ she said.

  ‘I do.’

  Mae suffered the inconvenience of falling in love three days before the world would end.

  They lay on the deck and kissed.

  She placed a hand on his chest, he placed a hand on her back.

  She liked the way he said her name, the only way it could be said but from his lips it sounded better. His lips, full and pink.

  They drank cold beer.

  ‘I like the stars,’ Sail said.

  ‘I used to want their lives, girls like Sally and Abi. I used to want their … symmetry. Their parents, their parents’ jobs. Their cars and their holidays. Their hopes didn’t seem like dreams.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I just want to fix them.’

  He kissed her and she thought of ice cream and vodka and lemon sherbet. Of perfectly cooked steak and pizza and tacos.

  ‘What shall I eat for my last supper?’ she said.

  He went quiet in that way he sometimes did. He took her hand in his and she slipped it from him and he looked at her.

  They talked politics and he spewed his father’s opinions like they were his own. He adopted a posher accent and wagged a finger and talked about Iran and the crisis, Syria and plights. But she could hear the passion beneath, he cared, his cheeks flushed.

  She climbed on top of him and kissed him and they discarded their clothes.

  Mae ran her fingers up his arm, over the track of small scars, the times he had tried to say g
oodbye to their world.

  I love you too much, she wanted to say.

  Why did you make me do that?

  38

  She watched him sleep.

  Matched her breathing to his.

  She tried to calm, but the dream had been too vivid. Her and Abi on the beach, the first Forevers, so clear she woke with a start and for a few cruel seconds forgot Abi was gone.

  She felt the heat in her chest, her hate for Jon Prince so hot she couldn’t breathe.

  Mae left him and walked along the cliff path that ran behind the sprawling gardens till she came to the Prince house.

  She climbed over the back wall and stopped by the cavernous hole.

  She saw the lift, the lights, but the garden was quiet. She guessed the men were done, that the bunker was complete.

  The screen doors were open.

  Net curtains caught the wind and billowed out towards her. As she slipped into the house she pressed close to the white wall and listened.

  The decor was dark wood and leather, flat screens and a pool table.

  She needed him to pay, for what he’d done to Abi, and to Hugo. She’d find something in his office, a message, a note, something that linked him to a teenage girl. Maybe she’d paste it around town, let people see the real him, make him live his last hours under a cloud of shame.

  She passed a painting of a sailing boat, thought of Mr Starling out there, setting a course for the end of the world and intending to sail right off it.

  Upstairs she moved through the bedrooms, heard a shower running and found her way to the study.

  She searched through draws, files, notes. She saw a leather diary and checked that too. She tried to imagine Abi with Jon Prince, shook the image from her mind and moved on into the spare bedroom. There was nothing in there but a bench, a barbell and a running machine.

  Mae was about to turn and leave when she felt the rumble.

  The whole house shook.

  Mae ran into Hugo’s room and shut herself in the wardrobe, breathing hard as she peered out through the slats.

  Hugo came in, wet from the shower.

  He dropped his towel and stood naked, staring at himself in the mirror.

  Six two, his body pared back to nothing but muscle. He wasn’t big like Liam, whose veins popped from injecting himself with steroids. He was the perfect size to cut through the water when he swam.

  He flexed his arms and watched the biceps swell. Front on, the way he stood, you couldn’t see them.

  And then he turned slightly, his leg pivoting, and she saw the angry scars on his inner thighs.

  He took a deep breath and tried to pinch the fat around his lower stomach. She saw him visibly relax when he couldn’t.

  Hugo moved to the wardrobe opposite and took the heavy box down.

  Mae watched him carry the make-up case to the mirror by his door.

  And then he got to work.

  He concealed the dark bruise beneath his eye. And then he painted his lips, and contoured his cheekbones.

  Mae smiled as she watched him.

  When he was done, she saw someone else.

  And maybe he did too.

  Hugo Prince looked at himself in the mirror, smiled once and wiped the mask away.

  And then he sat on the bed, found a small scalpel hidden in the bedside cabinet and tried not to cry out as he dragged it across his skin.

  The scars opened.

  He never let them heal.

  Mae held her breath when she heard a knock at the door.

  ‘Just a second.’ Hugo moved instantly, put the box away and pulled on a pair of shorts. ‘Yeah.’

  Jon Prince crossed the threshold, arms folded tight across his chest as he stared at his son, the stare so cold Mae shivered.

  ‘It was bigger this time. The house shook.’

  Hugo nodded.

  ‘Today,’ Jon Prince said.

  Hugo stood, hands by his side, his back military straight.

  He watched his father as he spoke, the long hair tied back.

  ‘You missed swim practice.’

  Mae saw Hugo fight the tremble in his knees. ‘I just … three days … Everyone went to the beach.’

  ‘You haven’t been the same since Abi. First it was the car, then that stupid tattoo, now this. You’re losing focus.’

  Jon reached out and squeezed his son’s shoulder, hard enough that when he took his hand away a red print remained. ‘Abi took her own life, correct?’

  Hugo went to shrug.

  ‘Correct?’

  ‘That’s what Sergeant Walters said.’

  ‘So whatever happened, whatever was done to her, she couldn’t cope with it. It’s a test, Hugo. We can roll over and give up, or we can …’ Jon stared at his son, willing him.

  Hugo cleared his throat. ‘Or we can pick up our shovel and dig.’

  Jon nodded, no smile.

  Mae thought of Abi’s face, the way her body lay broken on the rocks.

  ‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’

  ‘This isn’t the end, Hugo. No matter how it plays out, this won’t be the end for us. And we can come out stronger on the other side, or we can join the rest of the town watching the sky and reddening our knees in church. Now get some sleep, you have training in the morning.’

  At that Jon turned.

  ‘I miss her,’ Hugo said.

  The words landed hard. Jon turned back and stared at his son like he couldn’t work out who he was, where he’d come from.

  ‘We don’t talk about –’

  ‘I miss her,’ he said again.

  Jon clenched his fists and Mae closed her eyes. She could not watch it again without doing something.

  ‘You said it would get easier.’

  Jon stared at him, eyes blazing so hot Mae felt the burn. ‘I’ve given you everything. You can still be everything. You’re a Prince.’

  ‘I don’t want to be you.’

  Jon took a step nearer. ‘Say that again?’

  Mae willed Hugo to stay silent, to resist that urge that she could not.

  She breathed again as Jon turned and left.

  When Hugo’s light cut, and his breathing changed, Mae crept quietly into the hallway. And then she heard it.

  It was soft at first, then louder.

  The regular thump of a headboard against a wall.

  As she cracked open the door to Jon Prince’s bedroom the world tilted on her again.

  Mae thought of Luke Manton as she watched his wife lie back on Jon Prince’s bed, eyes closed as Jon grunted away on top of her.

  39

  She took what she knew to the beach.

  And she joined them in her daze, and was soon flanked by Matilda and Betty, who stood either side and took her hands in theirs.

  She watched them wade into the dark water and float on their backs.

  And then she noticed the small clusters of girls who stood waist deep, passing bottles of hair-dye as the sea took the silver away. Maybe they were showing affiliation, or maybe they’d just tired of looking up to Hunter.

  ‘Hey.’

  Mae was surprised to see him, sat down on the sand and leaned heavily, her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Are you okay, Mae?’

  She did not know where to begin, so much death already, so much more would come. ‘I’m tired, Felix.’

  Around were a hundred Forevers, they lay in groups, the fire crackled and music played softly.

  ‘Did you do this?’ he said.

  ‘They did.’

  He passed her the bottle of communion wine and she drank and passed it back.

  ‘Anything with Abi?’ he said.

  ‘I thought maybe yes, but then everything … it just changed. And now I don’t know anything, Felix. I don’t who I am, and I don’t know who these people are. I want it to go back, you know, just to before, not even before we knew, because I don’t even remember that time.’

  ‘Hey,’ he said, and wiped her tears with his thumbs
. ‘You don’t cry. You’re Mae Cassidy and you’re the toughest person I know. And you’ve been through more than any one of us here.’ She cursed and he told her it was okay but she didn’t feel okay then.

  ‘Stella,’ she said.

  He nodded, and she saw tears of his own forming.

  ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for her. I never had siblings, never needed them because I had you and I had Stella. And I know I joke with her and I’ve messed up her dance but I …’

  ‘I know.’

  He took a moment to calm and she let him.

  ‘Wait. What was that about her dance?’ she said.

  He climbed to his feet quickly but the rumble almost knocked him down again. This time it was savage, so deep, like West was about to split in two.

  The hundred climbed to their feet and stood together.

  And they gasped as the town behind was plunged into darkness.

  So total it was like it no longer existed.

  There were murmurs, calls to go get help.

  But they stayed there and looked back, and then out to sea.

  And then, finally, someone looked up.

  ‘Up there.’

  Mae wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to, but she looked up too, and she felt Felix press close to her as they saw it too.

  ‘Shit,’ he said, quiet. ‘Oh shit, Mae.’

  It was the brightest light in their sky.

  It was bigger than they could have imagined.

  Maybe it had been the light pollution, or maybe it was that exact moment when it became visible to them, truly visible.

  Selena set alight the sky over the town of West.

  Mae ran from the beach and down the darkened streets, saw people at their doors carrying candles, all struck dumb by the wonder above their town.

  She saw Sergeant Walters by the station, talking into his radio, calling for calm from the growing numbers gathered at the foot of the high street.

  It’s just a power cut.