The Beneath

by S. C. Ransom

  Aria gulped but said nothing, her lower lip quivering. Will turned to me.

  “What’s her problem?” he asked under his breath, his glorious dark eyes flashing. “I’d better get going – the noise has upset Foggy.”

  And with that he was gone – another wasted opportunity to actually talk with him. I watched his retreating back for a moment, before sighing and turning back to Aria, who was shaking so much it looked as if she might be having a panic attack.

  “You’re OK, calm down. It’s only a dog and he’s gone now.” I tried patting her on the arm to see if that helped, but it made her jump again. “Look, nothing much can really hurt you out here unless you leap into the road in front of a car or bus, OK? There’s no need to scream.”

  I took her arm and led her the rest of the way down the street to the place that was now my home. Nan lived in the ground-floor flat of an old terraced town house. Outside, the whole row was shabby and dirty, the stairs to the flats below covered in old newspapers and Burger King wrappers. She had been there for decades, obsessively cleaning her windows so that she could watch the passing world. She wanted to be on the top floor to get a better view, she had told me, but her arthritis had been giving her trouble for some time and it was all she could do to climb the four short steps up to the front door. She kept the brass-work on it gleaming too, but that and her windows were the only bits of the entire building that weren’t covered in a thick layer of London grime.

  I had been living with her for about six months, crammed into a tiny box room that really wasn’t designed for the job. I had had to part with most of my stuff; only those belongings that really mattered were finally allowed across the threshold. There was absolutely no space for another bed, so I pushed aside the thought about what I was actually going to do with Aria and mentally filed it as a problem for later. Something will come up, I told myself, hoping to get back the bravado that had made me invite her home in the first place.

  Still holding Aria by the elbow, I steered her up the steps.

  “This is it – I live here with Nan,” I muttered, horribly aware of just how grubby and unappealing it looked.

  She was still jumping at every noise, and then it started to rain. Fat drops fell on to the step and I could feel them hitting my head and hands. Aria went rigid, and I could see old Mrs Mallion next door twitch her curtains. I fished the key out of my bag and almost shoved Aria through the door, grateful that Nan was out for the moment.

  I expected a comment about the rain, but Aria was standing in the small hallway, mesmerised.

  “You put coloured fur on the walls!” She reached out to touch it.

  “Are you taking the mickey?”

  “I don’t know what that means,” she replied, running her hands gingerly across the red flock wallpaper. Nan had told me it was ironic. I just thought it looked like an old curry house.

  “It’s beautiful,” breathed Aria, continuing to gaze around in wonder, her fingertips never leaving the surface. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Lily’s home is unbelievable: so much space, and so many pretty things! I’m glad to be inside, away from the brightness and the sky. I know that’s what it’s called, but I didn’t expect it to be so far away. It makes me feel nervous. I understand now why the Listeners have to learn so much before they can come Above. I’m sure Dane would have explained more of it to me, but I’m not supposed to be here; I was only supposed to be in the tunnels. Everything here is bright, even inside, and it makes my eyes and head hurt.

  Lily leads me through lots of different rooms to one she says is just for her, with no need to share at all. Lily and her family must get very lonely in the night if they can’t whisper to each other.

  I’ve never seen anything as lovely as Lily’s room. She has her own window and an unbelievably soft bed with a really thick cover. On the walls are pictures of boys and at the end of the bed a cubbyhole full of things that make me gasp. I look at them closely, hardly daring to believe what I’m seeing. There is a long line of colourful strips, some with glittery writing, each attached to the side of a rectangular-shaped object, like a thin box.

  “Go on,” she says. “You can take one if you want.”

  I run my fingers along the edge and then carefully pull one of the prettier ones. It slides out noiselessly. There are glittering swirls on the front, and I lift the cover to see if it is a box, or if I am right.

  “That’s one of my favourites too,” says Lily with a smile, throwing herself down on the bed. “You’ve got good taste in books!”

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “A book? These are all books?”

  Lily’s mouth opens into a round O, but she says nothing. I carefully turn the page, looking at the words I can’t understand. I am actually holding a book. I never thought that would be possible.

  “Why are you allowed to have them?” I whisper, looking back at the rows of others.

  “You’ve never seen a book before?”

  Her voice has gone oddly squeaky. I shake my head.

  “I know that they exist and I think that the Community has a few, but we’re not allowed to see them.”

  “WHAT?” she splutters.”You’re not allowed to see books? How did you learn to read?”

  I laugh at her mistake. “I can’t read – I’m a child! They don’t teach us that.”

  I stroke the pages gently, feeling the softness of the paper and the slight roughness of the words. There are hundreds of pages. I know that it contains secret information, and habit forces me to whisper again.

  “What secret does this one tell?”

  She waits for a moment before speaking, a look on her face that might be pity, but then she whispers back.

  “There’s no secret in there; it’s just a story about a girl falling in love.”

  What Lily is saying makes no sense to me. There can’t possibly be a book that doesn’t tell a secret.

  “You mean like a fairy story?” I ask. “The type of thing we tell to babies?”

  Lily seems puzzled again. “No – well, maybe. It is fiction – made-up stuff – but it’s not a fairy story. Most of them are stories set in real life.”

  I hold the book closer to me and let my eyes wander over all the others.

  “Are they all stories?” I ask eventually.

  Lily smiles. “Yup – every one! Would you like to hear one?”

  I nod speechlessly and she jumps up to choose. “Make yourself comfy on the bed and I’ll find us a short one, otherwise we’ll be here all night.”

  She picks a book that is bigger and heavier than the rest, with a bright, shiny cover.

  “OK, I know exactly which one you’ll like,” she says as she casually turns the pages of the book. Suddenly she looks up at me, frowning. “Did you just say that you can’t read because you’re a kid?”

  “Of course. What would be the point? Only a few of us will need to read to do our tasks when we’re Assigned, and almost none of the girls get to read. I can’t think of one who can.” I pause for a moment, wondering if I can ask such a question, then decide that I must. “Why has your leader allowed it?”

  “Do you mean my dad?”

  “No, not your father. The leader. The one who is in charge and decides what you must do.”

  Lily sits back on the bed with a thump, and after a second of silence begins to laugh. Then, just as quickly, she stops.

  “I’m sorry, Aria. I didn’t mean to do that, but really…”

  “I don’t understand. Again.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry.” I see her struggling and failing to keep the incredulous tone from her voice. “It’s just that here – in my world – everyone can read. And no one will tell me what I can do with my life! I’ll make my own decisions, and as soon as I’m old enough and out of school I won’t even have to listen to Nan.”

  I see it in her eyes, the passion and the honesty. She has no master, no one directing every detail of h
er existence. The girl I was supposed to capture is freer than I will ever be.

  Aria had definitely answered one of my big questions: she was not making everything up. She really did live underground in a secret community with leaders who refuse to let the children learn. It was positively medieval. There was no way I was going to be able to send her back, even if there was a way to get past the creatures in the tunnels. I couldn’t send her back to a place with no books, where she wasn’t allowed to read. It was absolutely out of the question.

  There was no time to lose. I had to come up with a plan – and quickly if it was going to have any chance of working. Snapping the book of short stories closed I turned to face Aria.

  “OK, so here’s what we are going to have to do. The story will have to wait until a bit later. Nan’s out at the moment but she’ll be back before too long.” I sneaked a glance at my watch. “Oops, not long at all actually. I can let you stay here tonight, but as you can see there’s not a lot of room so it would be weird for you to stay longer.” I could see her start to ask a question. “Don’t worry, I’ve got something in mind for tomorrow. I just need to sort out the logistics, that’s all. Right now we need to come up with a story that Nan will swallow and you can remember.”

  A grateful look flashed across her face before the worried frown replaced it again. “Do I get to meet Nan then? What will I say to her?”

  “Try and say as little as possible, I think; just listen. I’ll tell her that you are terribly shy – that will stop her being suspicious. And don’t call her Nan; that will be odd.”

  “Isn’t Nan her name?”

  “Of course, but it’s because she’s my old nanny, so only I’m allowed to call her that. You can call her Mrs Wakefield, or Mrs W, perhaps. Elizabeth – or Lizzie – Wakefield is her full name, but I wouldn’t risk that just yet.”

  “Old nanny – what’s that?”

  “When I was little she helped my mum to look after me,” I explained.

  “And is she old?”

  “I guess so. She won’t say exactly, but she must be well into her sixties by now. She’s not that healthy either, so that makes her seem older.”

  “Over sixty…” Aria shook her head. “No one in the Community is that old. All our Elders are in their forties. No one gets to be sixty…”

  She tailed off, staring into space.

  “Really?” I asked, appalled. “What happens to everyone? Here people usually live until they are seventy or eighty, and sometimes much longer.”

  “Eighty?” she squeaked, eyes widening in surprise.

  “Sure. Some get to be a hundred. Why do you all die so young?”

  She avoided my gaze.

  “That’s … that’s just the way it is. What else do I need to know about your home then?” she added, as if she was keen to change the subject.

  I thought about the flat and how it might appear to someone from what amounted to a different world.

  “Let me give you a quick tour,” I said. “I don’t want you screaming at things again.”

  I held out my hand to help her up from the low, squishy bed and she took it gingerly, letting go as soon as she was upright.

  “OK, I have no idea about how you live, so let me just point out a few things and if you know how they work, then fine. Is that all right?”

  Aria nodded, so I started my tour.

  “Electric lights?” I asked, flicking the switch on and off.

  “We have those, but not so bright, and we don’t get to turn them on and off.” She pressed the switch a couple of times, testing it.

  “OK, one to you then.” I looked at my laptop. “Computer?” Aria shook her head. “No time to explain that right now.” I wondered how on earth I was going to describe the Web to her. Nothing else in my room seemed too challenging, so I opened the door and slipped into the corridor.

  “Now, bathroom. First, don’t touch anything in the medicine cupboard. There’s enough drugs in there to fill a small shop. If you feel ill, ask me and I’ll find the right stuff for you.” Nan had always locked that cupboard when I visited as a child. Her hobby seemed to be collecting medicines, and as she used to work in a chemist she was able to get her hands on quite a lot. Now, though, she used the Web, and parcels of stuff were always arriving at the door. I had never got a straight answer out of her about why she needed so many, but I rarely had to go to the doctor. Nan always had something for me to take.

  I shut the cupboard carefully. “Next – do you have flushing toilets?”

  I pulled the chain and hoped that I wasn’t going to have to explain that in too much detail. Aria peered over my shoulder into the minuscule bathroom.

  “I understand this but it’s very small,” she said, pointing at the loo. “And there’s only one. How do you talk?”

  “Umm, we don’t, not usually. This is a private room and you lock yourself in when you’re in here, see?”

  I shuffled round to face the door and showed her the small bolt.

  “That’s really funny!” she laughed. “I can’t imagine having to—”

  “OK, moving on,” I interrupted quickly, not keen on finding out about the toilet habits of her home. “Next is the kitchen.”

  We worked our way through the other rooms in the house, and I explained the basics of the gas cooker, the microwave and the TV, which mesmerised her.

  Lily presses a button and one of the moving pictures appears, the colours glowing. There are people sitting at a table and talking, looking straight at me. I lean down towards the picture, trying to work out if they do see me, but close up it’s a blur of colour. As I reach forward to touch it Lily takes my arm.

  “Here, come back a bit, you’ll be able to see it better,” she says. “It’s called a TV.”

  I step back. The colours are fantastic, and with a sudden burst of music the people sitting at the table change to a different person standing in front of a coloured wall full of shapes. The woman is talking about high pressure and rising temperatures. Then Lily clicks the little black box in her hand again and the woman is replaced by figures with big heads and wide eyes. They look like drawings come to life. The music is loud and jangling. I step back in surprise and feel the edge of something bang into the back of my knees. Glancing round I see the soft seat behind me. I sit down – sitting is safer, and it makes the pictures easier to see.

  “What’s this?” I ask. “What are those odd things?”

  “That’s Postman Pat,” she laughs. “He’s always odd. It’s a kids’ programme.”

  I still want to touch the surface to prove to myself that these figures aren’t really there, but I can’t reach. What other wonders do the Aboves have for me to discover? Lily hands me the black box, which is covered in little buttons.

  “Here, you can use this to change the channels, find something you like.”

  I take it carefully. The buttons feel soft. Lily reaches over and presses one with a tiny arrow on it.

  “You use this one,” she says, and the happy little people in the picture change to a glum-looking man dressed in grey with a very bright necktie. He’s talking about a terrible accident where a family have been burned in a fire. I don’t like it, so I press the button again and the picture changes to more moving drawings. I like those.

  “OK, Aria, this is the plan,” says Lily, perching on the edge of the squashy seat beside me. “I’m going to tell Nan that you are a friend from school, that you are very shy and don’t like speaking much. That all right with you?”

  I nod, not able to take my eyes off the moving pictures on the TV.

  “I’ll tell her that I’ve said you can stay the night because we have a deadline for a drama project and need to work late. If she asks about it, say that we have to produce a piece about … um…” Lily stares off into the distance for a moment. “Bullying – kids being mean to other kids. Say it’s about bullying if she asks, but she probably won’t.”

  * * *

  When Nan came in she made a fuss
about dinner being late, so the first time she had the chance to speak to Aria was when we were sitting down together to eat.

  “So you’re a friend of Lily’s then, from school?” she asked, as she speared a pasta tube in her macaroni cheese.

  Aria nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And where do you live then?”

  I tightened my grip on my cutlery hoping Aria would remember what I told her.

  “Acton,” she said, going pink and bending over her plate.

  “That is a long way,” said Nan. “It’s such a shame that Lily has to live so far from school, but we didn’t want to move her, not with her GCSEs coming up. I rarely meet any of her friends, do I, Lily?”

  It was my turn to go pink. “No, Nan, hardly ever. But you can’t expect them to come all the way over here. It’s not exactly convenient.”

  After that I managed to steer the conversation on to safer topics, and Aria didn’t have to say another word. As soon as we finished eating I said that we would clear up so that we could work on our project, so Nan disappeared into the sitting room to watch TV. I pulled out some school books and scattered them over the kitchen table, just in case she came back in, and then opened a notebook. I handed Aria a pen.

  “Can you write anything at all? Just try.”

  Aria took the pen from me carefully, rolling it between her fingers and peering at the point. Then she sniffed it, wrinkling her nose slightly.

  “I’ve never seen one of these before, not in real life anyway.”

  Her hand had already started out to pull over the notebook, but she waited for me to nod before she began, pressing the ballpoint on the paper, bottom lip clenched between her teeth. Very slowly she drew a line, and then, with a nervous glance towards me, she drew a very shaky “A”.

  “‘A’ for Aria,” I said, smiling when I saw what it was.

  She suddenly beamed.

  “Is it? I was told ages ago that it was, but I wasn’t sure if I could believe him.”