The Beneath

by S. C. Ransom

  Aria had clearly been working her way through them all for hours, and my heart sank at the thought of trying to get them back into place and make it look as if we’d never been here.

  “I brought you breakfast,” I said, pulling the slightly fluffy jam sandwich out from my hoodie pocket and handing it to her. She almost pounced on it, looking inside quickly before smiling and biting into it. “Sorry it’s a bit late,” I added. “I overslept. You should keep that door locked, you know. It’s not safe to leave it open.”

  “Oh, OK.” She was quiet for a moment, eyes closed as she ate. “Thank you,” she said finally, wiping the crumbs from her mouth with the back of her hand. The sandwich had pretty much already gone. “That was good. I’ve been up so long I’ve already had my nap.”

  “What have you been doing?”

  She beamed at me, picking up a copy of Hello!

  “I’ve been busy looking at all these. I have so many questions!”

  I laughed. “You have pictures here of all the wonders of the world but you want to ask me questions about celebrities. I like your priorities!”

  We giggled over the magazines for the next hour or so, and Aria learned to recognise some of the names. It was a much easier way to learn to read than with the kids’ books. She was particularly fascinated by the celebrities who were splitting up.

  “I don’t understand how it works. You say that no one tells you who to choose, but they’re still miserable. Why aren’t they happy?”

  “Who knows?” I said. “Some partnerships – marriages – work, and others fall apart. Everyone hopes that theirs will be one of the happy ones, but loads of them fail.”

  “There’s a lot of hurt in this world too,” said Aria, looking at a picture of a young woman carrying a baby and trying to avoid the cameras.

  I thought of my parents and the fights that they had, and I could only nod in agreement, blinking hard. To distract us both I turned the pages of the magazine to find some pictures of boys.

  “OK – of these two, which do you think is better looking?”

  She blushed scarlet. “I couldn’t say that! It’s not proper.”

  “Who’s going to tell? Go on – this one or the other one?”

  “Do you mean the one with the yellow hair? We don’t have anyone with that. He looks a little like your friend Will.” She paused, holding up the picture. “I like him.”

  “Oh. I guess. Maybe he looks like him a little bit.” Something in me really didn’t appreciate the thought of Aria liking Will, not the way I thought she meant, anyway.

  “Does everyone in the Community have dark hair then?” I asked.

  “Yes, everyone. Some go grey, of course, but the rest of us have brown or black hair. The people here with yellow hair are just … beautiful. Don’t you think so too?”

  “We call it blonde,” I said, dodging her question.

  “Blonde. I like that word.” She rested her chin in her hand and stared off into the distance, a small smile on her face. I wished I knew what she was thinking.

  If he was my breeding partner I wonder what our children would look like. Would they have yellow hair too? I try and imagine a little girl with my face and Will’s thick yellow hair. It’s a lovely thought, but hopelessly impractical. No, I mustn’t think about it – I must concentrate on what I’m going to do next.

  My mission is finished. I can’t do what I was supposed to do, to take Lily back below, so I must decide – risk going home or start a new life up here. And as I think it, I know that there is no choice.

  I take a deep breath and look up. “I have to stay here now. I don’t know how I’m going to manage but I’m going to have to try.”

  “Forever?” Lily’s voice sounds squeaky.

  “Yes, forever. I have to leave everything. Everyone. All of my old life.” I pause and think into the future. “Maybe there is someone I can share a life with here.”

  I glance over at Lily’s shocked face. She has been so kind, and the guilt threatens to overwhelm me again. Am I being a coward for not warning her about the Farmer’s plans?

  I could see the guilty look in Aria’s eyes before she quickly turned and started tidying a pile of magazines, and my heart sank. She fancied Will, it was pretty obvious, but did she really think that she could start a new life with him? I couldn’t see how that was ever going to work, even if he wanted to.

  And I wasn’t sure how I could help either, not in any practical way. It was all such a mess.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do if you stay,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I mean, you won’t be able to stay here – in this flat – forever. And somehow we have to be able to feed you. I can’t do that alone. We need help.”

  “But why can’t I live here?”

  “Because it’s not our flat. It won’t work.” I wished that it had been a year ago, when my life was so different. I’d have had no problem finding the money to look after her then. I tried to imagine how I would have managed if I’d been left here all alone without Nan, and shuddered. However brave she seemed, Aria must be terribly homesick. I felt the familiar prickling in my eyes as I thought about my mum.

  I reached out to take Aria’s hand, probably more for my comfort than hers.

  “It’ll be OK, I promise you. We’ll think of something. I will find a way to help. That’s what friends are for, right?”

  I almost smiled as I thought back to Jenny’s nasty text comment, which had pushed me into inviting Aria home, and realised that I had barely looked at my phone since I’d met her. Jenny was right – I’d needed a friend, and now I had one.

  There was obviously still plenty of stuff that Aria wasn’t telling me, but I decided not to push it. I didn’t understand her world or her rules. I just wished that I hadn’t introduced her to Will, because there was absolutely no way I could compete with her looks.

  I decided there was no point worrying immediately, and we continued poring over the magazines for what remained of the morning. After a tiny lunch I had to do my homework. Aria sat quietly on the sofa leafing through more books, and every time I glanced up she seemed completely absorbed. She was following the text with her finger and mouthing letters, occasionally raising her eyebrows as she turned a page. She kept quiet though, and finally my end-of-term English essay was done. I threw my pen down on the table and shut my books. It was time to show Aria a bit more of the city.

  “We’re going window shopping,” I announced, standing up and stretching. “Come on, leave that. We’ll clear up later.”

  Aria looked confused. “Shopping for windows?” she asked.

  “Not literally. We’re just going to have a look at stuff. Let’s go back to Selfridges – the place where it smelled of perfume, remember? We can go in the back door where the smell won’t be so strong.”

  “All right,” she said slowly. “But if it makes me sneeze again I’ll have to leave.”

  Within twenty minutes we were at the back entrance to the store. Aria followed me in, sniffing the air.

  “It’s not too bad back here,” she agreed. “What did you want to do?”

  We rode up and down the escalators for a while, Aria’s eyes getting wider and wider, “It’s all so beautiful,” she said, stroking a silk dress in the Prada concession. “This is so soft, but it would be hopeless to wear.”

  I could see the assistant eyeing us up and getting ready to come over to shoo us out of the way.

  “Come on, you’ll enjoy this – the easy way to travel!” I took her hand and pulled her towards the back of the store to the bank of lifts.

  We stood waiting for the lift to come but as soon as the metal doors slid open Aria jumped backwards, her mouth open in horror, in the process nearly knocking over a woman with a toddler. I mumbled an apology to the angry mother and helped to pick up her bags while Aria was pressed up against the far wall, just staring at the lift. Finally the doors closed and we were alone on the landing.
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  “What’s the matter? You can’t possibly be claustrophobic. What is it about lifts that you don’t like?”

  “Can I tell you about it outside, please?” she asked. “I don’t want to be near these things.” She shuddered as another of the lifts arrived with a loud ding, its doors gaping open.

  “OK, if you insist. Come on, I know what will cheer you up.”

  We left the store and started to make our way down past Oxford Circus to Regent Street, and Aria started to relax a little, despite the crowds of tourists. “Lifts then,” I said. “Why are they such a problem? They can’t do you any harm.”

  “Are you sure? We have one, and unless you have the right protection, if you go up in the lift you’ll never come back. No one in the Community would risk using one.”

  “Really? Let me guess – the Farmer is the one who gives you the protection?” I tried hard to keep the sarcastic tone out of my voice.

  “That’s right! How did you know? It’s certain death to use the lift in secret.”

  “Oh, lucky guess. Your Farmer seems to control most things. Do you have many lifts?”

  “No, just the one that is used to get the food down to us. The Listeners organise that, and they have to go up and down in it. The Farmer makes sure they are safe, but Dane says it’s very scary. I don’t know how he does it.” There was a touch of awe in her voice.

  “It’s a good job you’re not going to get to be a Listener then,” I laughed, trying to get her to join in, but the best she managed was a watery smile.

  Lily is trying to get me to understand the way that the Aboves live, but it’s so hard. There are so many times when I think things are under control but then something horrible appears. How can she joke about lifts? She’s right though; it’s one of the few things that would put me off being a Listener.

  Lily is dragging me along a wide road that has lots of the big red buses on it. There are huge windows too, showing lots of strange things. Some of them seem pretty straightforward, with jumpers or plates in the windows, useful stuff like that, but others I can make no sense of. One building just has a picture of an apple outside. Inside dozens of people seem to be crammed around white tables, looking at small flat things.

  Finally we dive off the busy road and go under an archway to a much quieter one. Ahead are lots of the fat grey birds that seem to be everywhere. They don’t like us coming round the corner and leap into the air, wings flapping. I can feel the wind they make on my face as they suddenly all change direction at once, skimming over the tops of our heads. I don’t like their pink feet, and duck to make sure none of them touch me. They are a bit like the bats at home, but noisier and more stupid. There are only a few bats loose in our tunnels, ones that have escaped from the caves where the Farmer keeps them all. Sometimes the women chase them with brooms. I always help them get away if I can.

  Lily slows and turns to me, a big smile on her face.

  “You’re going to just love this. I should have brought you here before!”

  She turns me round and walks up the road. The sky has got darker with clouds, and in the shop windows all the lights seem brighter, and other lights on tall poles flicker on, casting a yellow light.

  We reach a place where lots of roads meet.

  “Look up there!” she laughs.

  High up the buildings are covered in lights making huge moving pictures. Some are of words, some are of people, others are of things I’ve never seen before. I watch, mesmerised, as the lights glitter and dance. Around me there are hundreds of people, and hundreds of cars and the big red buses. The noise is all around and I can smell burned sugar. A man has cones of something sticky he is giving people from a cart. Everyone seems happy. Usually they look miserable and rushed, but here there is laughing and smiling. I can’t help laughing and smiling too.

  This world can be a lot of fun. Nothing at home is fun.

  I fell into bed exhausted. The trip to Piccadilly Circus had been followed by Soho and then Covent Garden, and by that time we were almost too shattered to walk home. Aria went to bed as soon as we got back to the flat, even more wiped out than me. Nan hadn’t asked me any questions about what I’d been doing all weekend. I was relieved about that as I didn’t want to lie, but it made me feel even guiltier about what I was keeping from her.

  It was really hard to get out of bed in the morning. It was the last Monday of term, and the tedium of teachers trying to fill lessons that no one cared about was almost unbearable.

  I left Aria with a pile of magazines and an exercise book, and told her to practise her writing while I was out. As I walked down the road I worried about how on earth I was going to feed her. I’d no idea that the fresh stuff Nan and I ate was quite so expensive, and the twenty pounds I had got at the weekend was barely going to cover another loaf. Luckily Marjorie’s flat had lots of tins – she obviously thought there might be a siege or a nuclear winter at any moment, so she had lots of supplies – but I was still going to have to replace them eventually.

  I was deep in thought as I worked my way down the escalators at the Tube station, and wasn’t really paying any attention to the announcements. I’d long since got used to the inconvenience of having to get the Tube to school. Some days it seemed to take forever, and as I reached the platform I realised that it was one of those days – the platform was packed and the signs showing how long it would be until the next train seemed to be out of order.

  Sighing and heaving my school bag further up on to my shoulder I forced my way along the platform to my preferred spot near the back of the train. The usual silence was punctuated by the grumbling of the passengers as they actually spoke to each other to complain but I tuned it all out as I worried about the money. As a result I didn’t realise that the person standing just to the side was actually talking to me, and it took me a moment to recognise him – he was often on my morning train but he’d never spoken to me before. Tall and dark with very pale skin, he was probably in his late teens. He looked very athletic.

  “It’s a bit of a nightmare today, isn’t it?”

  He had leaned in close to make sure he was heard. He was gorgeous, his dark eyes twinkling in the harsh neon light.

  “Yes,” I squeaked in surprise, feeling myself turning pink. I cleared my throat to try to sound more normal. “You’d think this close to summer it would have started to quieten down a bit.”

  “I know. It’s rubbish, isn’t it?” He smiled at me, then nodded at my bag. “College not finished yet?”

  He was unbelievably good-looking and so far out of my league that it wasn’t even funny. I couldn’t work out why he was talking to me after all these months. He was also expecting me to answer him.

  “Umm…” I started, but the squeak was back. I tried again. “Only a few more days.”

  “Yeah, me too. I seem to live either here or in the coffee bar next to the station during term time. Be nice to get a break.”

  I was saved from having to think up something else to say as a train roared unannounced into the station. In the crush and jostling of the crowd we got pushed into adjoining carriages. I glanced through the windows of the emergency doors, and he was looking at me, smiling. The windows at the end of each carriage were fully open, but the roar of the wind rushing in made it impossible to talk. I kept glancing at him, his dark, slightly spiky hair easy to spot among the balding heads of the commuters, but I lost sight of him as another crowd of passengers squeezed on. I craned my head round to try to see, but when a load of passengers left at the next stop I realised that he had already gone.

  Lily has gone out today to school, where they teach the children to read and write. I wish I could go with her. I can’t think of anything better than being in a place where all they want you to do is learn. I’ve looked through the magazines and the books, and practised copying out the words that she left for me, but it’s hard when she’s not here to show me where I’m going wrong. And I want to go outside – there is so much to see and try to understand.
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  I need some time to walk and think, to see if I can find some answers. The conversation with Lily has made me think – which life do I really want, and, realistically, which options are still open to me? Will Dane have the strength to challenge the Farmer alone? I wish I could talk with him, but if one of the other Listeners saw us it would mean certain death for him.

  Picking up the purse of money Lily has left for me, I gently open the door and step out of the flat. Turning, I lock it carefully behind me as Lily has shown me, feeling the key rotate and click. For the first time I am alone outside – I have no destination, not the shops, or the library. My heart flutters and I realise I am holding my breath. Part of me wants to run back inside and hide from the strange, moving sky, but I know it can’t hurt me and so I set off. I have to keep breathing – gentle breaths that slow the panic creeping up my back.

  Walking gives me time to think. I’ve only ever wanted to be part of the Community, but a safe, happy Community as it was years before, as the stories tell us. But now I see Above for myself, I’m no longer sure what I want. The people I’ve met are so kind, and I’ve seen things that I couldn’t even have imagined. Why didn’t Dane tell me it was like this?

  I realise I’ve made up my mind to stay Above, but if I could, would I go back? Should I?

  As I think, I walk. My ability to navigate the tunnels at home seems to help me find my way here. I can build a picture in my head and work out where things are and how to get back. There are so many streets, and many of them look identical. I walk down one road and see lots of big windows at the front of each building, some with big glass doors too. They must be little shops. Inside one there are racks of clothes, all white, and a headless figure in the window wearing an enormous white dress. I can’t imagine what it’s for, it seems so impractical, but I can see from the detail on the material that it must be something special. Almost every house on the road has a similar display.