by Matt Whyman
‘Right.’ Faria looked up from her BlackBerry, smiling to herself. ‘So he went to all that effort cooking just for a kiss on the cheek?’
‘It was more than that.’
‘How much more?’ asked Maisy, who had been listening closely. ‘Did you get to see his cucumber?’
‘That’s none of your business!’ Sasha tried hard to sound outraged.
‘Does that mean it was more of a marrow?’
Faria’s question was met by silence, but only for a moment.
‘Let’s just say I had to deal with a lot of vegetables that evening.’
This time, all three girls laughed together.
‘So, really, what was supper like?’ Faria asked. ‘Apart from light on the chicken.’
‘Good,’ said Sasha, and then caught her eye. ‘Healthy.’
‘You mean boring,’ said Faria, nodding to herself.
Sasha chuckled and looked to her lap.
‘How about the conversation?’ asked Maisy.
This time, Sasha failed to muster even a smile. Maisy and Faria glanced at one another and grinned.
‘That was boring, too?’ asked Faria. ‘Don’t say that, Sasha. Jack is a babe. You’re killing the dream.’
‘In your shoes,’ said Maisy playfully, ‘I wouldn’t be that interested in his mind.’
‘But I’m not like you,’ said Sasha, thinking at the same time what an understatement that was. ‘Look, I was flattered by the effort he made to cook for me. Jack is genuinely into his vegetarianism, too. I do admire him for that.’
‘You admire him?’ Faria paused for a moment. ‘Is that the same as lust?’
‘No.’
‘You’re going red,’ Maisy pointed out. ‘So, if it isn’t lust then could it be love?’
Sensing that further protest would be pointless, Sasha told them both to grow up.
‘I like him, all right? Yes, he’s good looking, and the attention is great, but there has to be more to a boy than a pretty face. It can’t last otherwise, but obviously I’m hoping Jack will prove me wrong.’
‘When are you next seeing him?’ asked Maisy.
‘Any time now,’ said Sasha, and cast her gaze to the cut-through between the school and the field. ‘He’s made me a packed lunch.’
‘Really?’ Faria glanced at Maisy. ‘So, now he’s your mum?’
Sasha weathered the comment by smiling to herself.
‘I figured it would be rude to refuse,’ she told them.
‘Well, you didn’t have a problem saying no to the sex,’ said Maisy.
Sighing now, Sasha faced Maisy and Faria in turn before levelling with them both.
‘Had I just given in and gone for it,’ she said, ‘then right now I wouldn’t be feeling good about myself. Jack is my chance to prove that when it comes to my life I call all the shots. My dad has already marked him down as someone who could lead me astray. The last thing I want to do is make things difficult by acting like a sheep.’
‘You’re not a sheep,’ agreed Maisy with some certainty.
‘You’re a wolf,’ Faria finished for her. ‘A wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
Sasha stared at her shoes, nodding to herself.
‘As for lunch, here’s hoping you like carrot sticks.’
‘Listen, I’ll give it a go,’ said Sasha with a grin. ‘It’s all part of Jack’s challenge to turn me. I’m going veggie for a month.’
For a second, both girls looked lost for words.
‘You are kidding us,’ said Faria slowly. ‘You want his babies. Little vegetarian babies with names like Parsley and Basil.’
‘It must be love,’ Maisy agreed, and drew their attention to the cut-through. There, the young man in question had just appeared bearing a Tupperware box as if it was a bunch of roses.
Jack Greenway had a plan for Sasha. A meal plan. He’d been working on it since their supper together. The result was now folded inside his jeans pocket as he made his way out of the school to meet her. The corridors were swarming with kids. Ever since he’d started the year as a sixth former, it felt as if he were attending some kind of infant school. On the upside, the girls in their GCSE year looked up to him like he had collected an A star in maturity and cool.
‘Hey, Matilda … What’s up, Chrissie? Tess, is that a new ear piercing? What’s it called? A tragus! Wow. Looks good on you.’
As for the boys in the years below Jack, they might as well have been invisible. If they got in his way he would simply expect them to move. That lunchtime, it was Ivan who discovered this for himself. He’d just left the canteen, having collected a ham baguette, and was crossing the corridor on his way to chess club. Cutting across the flow of pupils was never easy, but Jack just made it harder for him.
‘Watch out, dumbass!’ he snapped, when Ivan walked right into him. ‘Have you any idea what you nearly made me drop just then?’
Ivan looked up at the young man clutching the Tupperware box. He knew full well this was the vegetarian guy dating his sister. Clearly Jack had no idea that he was giving Sasha’s kid brother a hard time here. Ivan glanced at the box and took a wild guess at the contents.
‘Looks like rabbit food to me.’
Jack Greenway heard him clearly. The kid was confident. He’d give him that. He was also shaping up for a kicking. Not that Jack was a fighter. Violence was something he opposed in every shape or form, from animal testing to any global conflict that resulted in a wrist band he could wear to put his views on display.
‘It’s got to be better than that muck,’ he said, and grabbed the baguette from Ivan’s hands. ‘What do we have here then?’
‘Give it back!’ the boy demanded.
Calmly, holding it from Ivan’s reach, Jack peeled the baguette apart and peered inside. A disapproving look crossed his face, which he shared with Ivan.
‘You know this ham is processed, don’t you? It contains saturated fat and all kinds of chemicals. In fact, it isn’t really ham at all.’
‘Well, I like it!’ protested Ivan, whose ears and cheeks had turned crimson with anger. ‘And you’ll be sorry.’
By now, the dispute had drawn a small crowd. Jack glanced around and grinned.
‘Kid, I’d be doing you a favour by binning this. If more people ditched meat completely this world would be a better place.’
Ivan had heard enough. Without warning, he leapt up with his all his might and snatched the baguette back into his possession. Then, before anyone could react, he swung it like a cricket bat directly into Jack’s groin. The impact caused the baguette to crumple between his legs and the breath in his lungs to exit in surprise. He looked down, utterly shocked, and then around at the crowd who had just begun to titter and smirk. The assault hadn’t really hurt him, but Jack’s pride had taken quite a hit. Ivan, meanwhile, appeared completely unrepentant.
‘Don’t mess with my lunch again,’ he said, before taking himself and his battered baguette away through the crowd.
Watching him go, Jack felt more sheepish now than stunned. He looked around, still clutching the Tupperware box, and attempted to dismiss the situation with a smile.
‘We’re just fooling around,’ he said. ‘Probably all the additives in that junk he thinks is ham.’
Turning quickly, Jack hurried on his way. He glanced down, just to check the assault hadn’t left him with margarine all over his trousers, and swore that he would get even with that jumped-up little toe rag. Just then, however, he wasn’t going to let it spoil this moment. For Sasha’s first vegetarian lunch, he’d prepared two pots of pineapple and cashew couscous with edamame beans, goat’s cheese and red pepper. With some fresh grapes to follow, he was quietly hoping she’d let him hand feed them to her in his car. The way to a girl’s heart was through her stomach, he believed. It had worked wonders on his previous dates. And once he had won them over, everything else would follow.
As soon as he saw Sasha, sitting on the skate ramp with her mates, Jack stopped and waved the lunchbox. He
was pleased to see her climb off and make her way across the field. Sasha was his sole interest just then. Her friends were just a pain.
‘You’re going to love this,’ he said, having wrapped his arm around her and led her further from the skate ramp. ‘That’s if you haven’t changed your mind?’
‘I’m ready,’ she said. ‘I can see this is important to you—’
‘Not just to me,’ Jack cut in. ‘Think of the animals.’
‘Oh, OK! That, too!’
Smiling, Jack held her gaze for a moment. Sasha was engaging and smart, he thought to himself, and her willingness to give this a shot was flattering. It was just a shame that she hadn’t let him go all the way at the weekend. After all the work he had put into that meal, she’d hardly repaid the gesture. In the past, other girls had given in before he’d even served dessert. Jack hoped he wouldn’t get bored of her. He’d give it a month, he decided. At a push.
‘Promise me you won’t go back to your old ways over the next four weeks,’ he asked Sasha. ‘If you do, I’ll know.’
‘How?’ Sasha looked puzzled.
‘Your skin,’ he said, matter-of-factly. ‘A vegetarian diet is so cleansing, as you’re about to find out for yourself. Think of it as a detox.’
Sasha touched her fingers to her face. Her complexion had always been clear and trouble-free, which her mother put down to their diet, but Jack certainly sounded like he would recognise any change.
‘You don’t have to worry,’ she said. ‘Day one has already begun.’
A lock of hair had come loose from her grip. Jack brushed it behind her ear.
‘So, what did you have for breakfast?’ he asked.
‘A kind of last supper,’ said Sasha.’ Muesli. Toast. Steak.’ She waited for Jack to look truly horrified, before her earnest expression melted away. ‘I’m kidding,’ she said. ‘We carnivores know how to eat a balanced diet.’
Jack presented her with the Tupperware box.
‘This is what I call balanced and ethically sound,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s going to make a life-changing impression on you.’
‘That reminds me,’ she said, accepting the box. ‘All of a sudden my dad is really keen to meet you.’
‘Cool,’ said Jack. ‘I’m sure they want to know who’s showing their daughter the light when it comes to meat-free living.’
Sasha peered at the box, wincing slightly at what he’d just said.
‘I’m pleased you’d like to come round,’ she told him, ‘but it might be best to steer clear of the subject of food. My parents have strong views, too, and I’m keen that everyone gets along.’
Jack considered this for a moment, before gently clasping Sasha by the sides of her head and drawing her close to kiss her forehead.
‘I promise to be on my best behaviour,’ he said, and slipped her arm around her waist. ‘Now, why don’t we go find my car so you can start the transformation?’
‘You make it sound so permanent,’ said Sasha, as they turned and headed for the sixth form car park. ‘I only agreed to go veggie for a month.’
‘Let’s see how you feel then,’ said Jack. ‘I’m confident that you won’t look back.’
14
That evening, Oleg Fedor Savadski reached the foot of the stairs from the upper floor, and wondered where he was. He looked around, his dressing-gown sash hanging loose around his pyjamas.
‘Goddammit,’ he muttered to himself. ‘They must’ve moved the bathroom again.’
Oleg knew that his mind was beginning to falter. Little things in his daily life had become a test for him, such as the whereabouts of his spectacles or the name of the thing that hung from the ceiling which glowed when he hit the switch. Of course, he knew it was the light bulb. Like the location of the bathroom, it would quickly come back to him. Even so, as he shuffled along the landing, Oleg wished he could do something to restore his wits.
It was the sound of gunfire and explosions that prompted him to stop outside Ivan’s bedroom. Despite his forgetfulness, Oleg’s memory of the Siege was vivid. Just hearing the crackle of a weapon transported him to the ruins of Leningrad in a blink. Without knocking, he opened the door and looked in on his grandson. Ivan was sitting on the edge of his bed with a videogame controller in his hands. His eyes were locked on the screen across the room. It showed some frenzied military skirmish, and was the source of all the noise.
‘Hi, Grandpa,’ he said, without looking around. At the same time, he squeezed a trigger on the controller. The sound of bullets spitting from a clip filled the room for a moment. ‘Are you looking for the loo again?’
‘It can wait,’ said Grandpa, watching the action on the screen. ‘Good game?’
‘Great game,’ said Ivan, who had yet to blink. ‘I love this level. If I can take out every mercenary I’ll get a weapons upgrade and then I’m practically unbeatable.’
‘Can I play?’
Ivan hit the pause button. The noise gave way to silence. Ivan faced his grandfather, surprised by the request.
‘Really?’
‘Got to keep my reflexes sharp somehow.’ Oleg closed the door behind him. ‘Now make room for an old man and pass me the other controller.’
It took a little while for Oleg to get to grips with the game. Thrilled that his grandfather should show an interest, Ivan patiently explained what to do, and even suggested that they fight on the same side.
‘I’ll be your wingman,’ he said. ‘Lock and load, Grandpa!’
‘The action is a little over the top,’ said Oleg, who was leaning forward to focus on the split screen in front of them. ‘But it reminds me of the old days, that’s for sure.’
For a moment, the pair focused on taking out an incoming wave of mercenaries.
‘What was it like?’ asked Ivan next. ‘During the war?’
‘Grim,’ said Oleg. ‘Like hell on earth, with just a taste of Heaven every now and then.’
‘Sniper on the tower,’ warned Ivan, and promptly took out the target with a headshot. The body dropped from its position, hitting the floor like all the bones had left its body. ‘See ya, sucker!’
‘God rest his soul,’ said Oleg quietly, but it was enough to draw a glance from his grandson. ‘So, what happens to the corpse now?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Ivan with a shrug.
Oleg looked back at the screen. Smoke drifted across the battleground, which shook as a nearby airstrike hit a building. With a sigh, he set the controller down beside him.
‘There is a lot of death in this game,’ he said. ‘With no respect shown to the fallen.’
Finding himself without a partner, Ivan mashed the controller buttons in a bid to stay alive.
‘What do you suggest?’ he asked. ‘We bury him while the bullets fly?’
‘No,’ said Oleg. ‘We should eat him.’
For the second time since his grandfather joined him, Ivan paused the game.
‘This isn’t real,’ said the boy. ‘It’s fun.’
Oleg clasped his hands in his lap. He stared at his thumbs, turning them over and over.
‘No death should be taken in vain, as we all hope you’ve learned after what happened at the weekend.’ He watched the boy press his lips together, nodding at the same time. Then he waited for Ivan to meet his eyes once more. ‘Ivan, if a life must come to an end then the body should be treated with ceremony. Your father wasn’t unaffected by the disposal of the model. He was forced to take that action for the sake of his son, but it moved him deeply.’
‘I know,’ said Ivan quietly. ‘He hugged us all a lot the next day.’
‘It’s a shame we weren’t able to consume her,’ said Oleg, ‘In the early history of mankind, a friend or a foe would be feasted upon as a mark of respect. Long before burial and cremation became popular, that’s just how things were done.’ He stopped there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. ‘Of course, I had no choice but to revive the ritual as a means of survival, but after the Siege it grew to mean so mu
ch more to me, and to my family.’
‘How was it?’ asked Ivan, who had been listening closely. ‘The first time?’
Oleg chuckled to himself.
‘Awful, tortuous, unbearable,’ he said. ‘Your grandmother and I were close to death ourselves. We were gaunt, weak, beyond hope, and struggling to stay alive in a city with more bodies than the living. All the food had gone. There was nothing left we could eat. Nothing but …’ He paused to reflect for a moment. ‘Slowly, it became something that many people considered, but only a few put into practice. Some say it was mostly young mothers desperate to feed their children, but I didn’t see that for myself. We had thought about it for some time, of course, but always dismissed it as going beyond the limits of humanity.’
‘So what changed your mind?’
‘A neighbour,’ said Oleg. ‘She lived in the apartment next to ours, and had seen every member of her family perish. She was a sweet, quiet soul who had endured just so much misery. The trauma of our existence left her vulnerable. Your grandmother helped her wherever possible, and once even shared a dead pigeon with her that we’d managed to find in the rubble. But, Ivan, her heart was broken. She had no will to survive. Weak beyond reason, it was a small mercy that her heart gave out in her sleep. We couldn’t just leave her corpse in the apartment. We had to do something, but at the same time we were desperate people. That morning we had forced down pebbles just to give our bellies something, so you can understand what led us to look at her body in a different light.’
‘Was it your idea?’ asked Ivan, who had been listening intently. ‘Or Granny’s?’
‘I could read her mind and she could read mine,’ answered Oleg, nodding at the same time. ‘It was as if an inner voice had awoken in us both, and it spoke so loud and clear that neither of us could ignore it. So, we made a joint decision. Your grandmother folded back the bed sheet and with my penknife we peeled off the thinnest layer of flesh from her thigh. Oh, Ivan, the moment moved me to tears. What I was doing felt so wrong and yet so necessary. The slither wasn’t enough to sustain either of us. We halved it, and on the count of three each placed what we had in our mouths. Several times we spat it out, and both of us wretched before we finally succeeded in washing it down our gullets with rain water. But once it settled in the stomach we soon went back for more. We were starving to death, Ivan, you have to remember that, so to be nourished at that time was to feel as if God Himself had fed us. I’ll never forget it. We were rejuvenated and elated, as if born again! My boy, there is something so special about human flesh that drives a man to devour until nothing more is left. Ever since, I look forward to that feeling each time we sit to feast.’