Small Blue Thing (18 page)

She pondered this for a moment, then nodded, her curtain of smooth, thick hair swaying. “How quickly can you do that?”

“I can arrange it all tonight. Can you come to me tomorrow morning? I can be on the school field or something, out of the way.”

For a moment I thought I saw a look of triumph flash across her face, but it was gone so quickly I wasn’t sure I had really seen it at all. “It doesn’t matter where you are, I’ll be there. Make sure you have the amulet in your bag: I need it to locate you. But
don
’
t
wear it.”

I was suddenly nervous. “Does it hurt? Will I know what’s going on at all?”

“No, no. All you have to do, at the agreed time, is to start thinking about what you want to forget. Whatever you think about, whatever goes through your head, I will be able to take it and you’ll never be bothered by it again.”

I looked at her carefully, trying to understand. I knew she was underplaying the risk. But I couldn’t see how I could bear this pain. I made my decision.

“Fine. Thank you, Catherine. I’m not sure why you are doing this, but thank you.”

She looked away. “I’m doing it to teach him a lesson, really. He can’t go on behaving like this. And he is my little brother, so that makes him my responsibility. I’m sorry that you have got hurt so badly, but you can be sure he won’t do it again.” For the first time there was real passion on her face.

“So when will we do it? Can you meet me at eleven o’clock tomorrow?”

I was stunned by the smile that suddenly lit up her face. When she smiled properly she wasn’t just attractive, she was beautiful. “Oh yes, I can be there at eleven. I’ll see you then. Sleep well!” She disappeared immediately, leaving me slightly stunned.

I set to work. I didn’t have long to record everything and
work out what I was going to do with the memory stick and the amulet. It had to be somewhere safe, where I wasn’t going to see it and wonder what it was, but it also had to be somewhere accessible if I needed it in the future.

Hiding it in the house was not an option, nor was hiding it at school. I really needed someone else to take care of it who could be trusted and who wouldn’t ask too many questions. There was only one person: Grace. I knew I could trust her to do as I asked. It was a perfect choice.

With that problem solved, I had to tackle the larger problem of recording everything. I looked at my watch. I still had plenty of time before everyone came home.

I didn’t do much videoing from my laptop, so it took me a while to get everything organised. I had no idea how much space I had on the memory card I had found. How long could I talk for? I was going to have to do a test to check. I set the camera running and timed five minutes while I made myself a cup of coffee. Back at my desk I checked the file. It had recorded perfectly and had only taken up a fraction of the card. I deleted it and sat back. Now I had no excuse. I had to start talking, to explain what I was doing and the reasons behind it.

I hesitated again, and in my heart I knew why: I didn’t want this to be the end. Despite everything that had happened, and despite the commitment I had made to Catherine, I didn’t really want to do anything so final.

I forced myself to remember his betrayal to strengthen my resolve. I looked at the little camera lens, took a deep breath, and began.

I started talking about finding the amulet on the little beach in Twickenham and left nothing out. Within minutes I
was struggling to speak, the tears rolling down my cheeks. The memory of his face in St Paul’s, the joy he had seemed to show, my excitement at being able to speak to him were all too much. I quickly shut off the camera and went to look for a box of tissues. I washed my face to compose myself and started again.

This time I was harder on myself. Every time I felt myself welling up I dug my nails into my palm and thought about Olivia. Even though I knew nothing about her I could dislike her intensely.

I didn’t have to stop again until I was describing the moment I realised that I loved him. That took a while to recover from, and I was just drying my face when I heard a car pull in at the front of the house. I glanced at my watch and realised I had run out of time for now. I was going to have to do the rest of this later.

Mum left me alone during dinner: it must have been obvious that I wasn’t going to be contributing much to the conversation. I caught her exchanging glances with Dad at one point, and I was grateful that it would all be over soon, and I wouldn’t have to worry them any more.

But I still had a lot to do and I really didn’t want to be disturbed. I thought about taking the laptop into the car or into the garden, but neither of these options was ideal. It would be easier to twist the truth a little. “Please just ignore any noise from my room this evening,” I announced to a rather surprised table, having said nothing at all through the meal.

“Of course, darling,” agreed Mum, “but what are you doing?”

“It’s a project about video diaries. I have to do a sort of ‘talking head’ piece, and it needs to be finished tonight. I probably should have started it sooner,” I said, trying to sound sheepish.

My parents exchanged another glance.

“Would you like any help with it?”

“Thanks, Dad, but there really isn’t anything you can do. Just ignore the noise of me talking half the night.”

“Well, don’t stay up too late,” Mum cautioned. “You know, I really don’t understand the point of some of these projects…”

I tried to smile. “Well, it’s nearly done now. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

Back in my room I settled into my chair. I was about to check over the last few minutes of what I had already recorded, but realised that was only going to make me even more self-conscious about what I was doing.

I sat up straight and set the camera going again.

I had to take several more breaks when emotion overcame me. If I ever got to play this back, I thought, ruefully, I was going to be horrified by my appearance. Finally, at about midnight I was finished. I had covered everything: how the amulet worked; how I spoke to him; what I could feel; and how Catherine had revealed all of his lies. I sat back in the chair and felt my shoulders slump. The idea of making a record had kept me going but, now it was done, I was going to have to occupy myself some other way. There was no chance that I would be able to sleep.

I pulled the memory card out of the computer and considered it. Would I ever look at its contents? If what Catherine was proposing actually worked I would never open it again, and would never need to know the depths of despair that I was feeling at the moment.

I had put a password on the file so that Grace wouldn’t be able to read it. It would all be a complete waste of effort and emotion if she told me about Callum after I had forgotten.

I started to think about what I had to do the next day. I needed to give her the card and the amulet, but not until Catherine
was finished, and at that point I wouldn’t know why I needed to do that. I realised that I would have to get to her beforehand and make sure she was expecting to take it from me. My head was beginning to hurt again so I pressed my fingers into the tops of my eye sockets, just under my eyebrows.
Focus
!
I told myself sternly. I thought it all through again, then to make sure I had everything covered I grabbed my mobile and began to write a message.

I hoped that it would be enough. Even though it was late I pressed the send button. Within a minute there was a responding buzz from the phone.

I found a little padded envelope on my desk, and stuck a big label on it. I wrote Grace’s name very clearly on the front, and put the memory card and the amulet inside, then sealed it carefully. I put my name on the back, with the instruction to leave it unopened, and then I threw it into the top of my rucksack ready for tomorrow.

Everything was done. I felt a tiny surge of relief, quickly followed by a huge wave of tiredness. I crawled into bed, hoping for sleep to come quickly, but not really expecting that it would. I was quite surprised to feel my eyelids beginning to close. As I
drifted off, I wondered if I should have called Catherine as soon as everything was done, but I was too tired to change my plans. I slept.

Race

I woke to a familiar sense of gloom and my mood didn’t improve when I remembered what I intended to do. Part of me still wanted to hold on to every memory of Callum, but I hoped that a different, carefree Alex would come back to this room after Catherine had got to work.

Another driving lesson was an additional obstacle and distraction. Josh drove in as usual. He was pretty tense as he had one of his last two exams that day, so neither of us was keen to talk. When we got to the school, I wished him luck and we went our separate ways.

The common room was busy. All the exams in my year were finished, so everyone was back to normal timetables. It looked as if most of us couldn’t wait for the summer holidays that were only a few weeks away. The girls were lounging around with no urgency or enthusiasm for work, chatting, texting or reading gossip magazines. There wasn’t a textbook in sight.

I searched around for Grace as I wanted to make sure that she was clear on when to take the package, but there was no sign of her. I sent her a quick text and the answer was immediate.

I gave a sigh of relief, and checked the package in the top of my bag. It looked innocent enough, but the sight of it made me
shudder slightly. The pain was a dull ache now, but still enough to make my eyes well up whenever I focused on it. I couldn’t help thinking of Callum’s easy smile and the day we’d spent on the island. It had all seemed so real, so right. I wondered what he was doing. Was he thinking of me? Would he ever think of me again?

I shook myself: this wasn’t going to help. Around me all my friends were gathering, making plans for the weekend and the holidays, and to keep myself together I tried to focus on some of the conversations.

“We were supposed to be going to the cinema to see that film, but he got the days wrong…”

“If she gives us any more essays this term I’ll scream…”

“Freddie says he’s going to come shopping with me at the weekend…”

“What do you think of that new top? Too tight for a first date?”

“I’m going to have to beg my parents for the money to go to Cornwall, which is a problem as they don’t want me to go…”

This last snippet sounded interesting so I tuned in properly. Of course it was Ashley, and clearly plans for her romantic trip with Rob were not going entirely smoothly. Mia was trying to be positive.

“You won’t need too much money surely? It’s his house and his parents will buy all the food. All you’ll need is spending money for the evening.”

Ashley looked at the floor. I quickly turned away so she wouldn’t see I was listening. “The thing is,” she started, picking fluff off her sleeve, “his parents won’t be going.”

There was a brief lull in the buzz of conversation, and everyone in the group heard her. Alia gasped.

“His parents won’t be there? Are you mad?”

“So? It’s nothing to do with anyone else.”

I found myself agreeing with her. I noticed a couple of her friends glance in my direction, obviously still concerned about my feelings, but it all seemed so unimportant to me.

Nothing could distract me properly from what was going to happen to me. I wished that I had agreed to do it a bit earlier. I just wanted the whole thing over and done with. And now I thought about it, I was much more nervous than I had expected. The idea of someone interfering with my thoughts and memories – with what made me who I was – was a scary one, and Catherine’s casual mention of what might happen should it go wrong nagged at me. What would be left of me? I calmed myself by remembering her reassurances. I wanted this to happen: she’d take only the right memories, and I’d put up no resistance. As the bell went for the first lesson there was still no sign of Grace, but I wasn’t too worried; the less I saw her, the less explaining I would have to do. I would have a chance to talk to her in an hour or two.

My next lesson was chemistry, and Miss Amos was covering the theory of mass spectroscopy. I had to concentrate to make any sense of it at all, which was useful: I didn’t spend the entire lesson thinking about Callum and worrying about what Catherine was going to do to me.

At break time I went back to the common room. I checked my bag again; the package was still safe at the top, ready for Grace when it was all over.

Real fear started to churn in my stomach, and I wondered once again what it would be like. Could I really trust Catherine? And another anxiety started to mount too: I only had another hour or so to think about Callum, and then he would be gone
from my life forever.

I suddenly felt really ill. In fact, I was pretty sure I was about to be sick. I made a quick exit to the loos, ignoring the surprised looks from all my friends.

I rested my forehead against the inside of the toilet door and counted to ten slowly. The nausea subsided a little, and after a few more minutes I felt calm enough to leave the cubicle. At the sinks, I splashed some cold water on my face.

As I reached for a paper towel a screaming wail filled the air, making me jump. The fire alarm was even more loud and shocking than normal in the confined space of the toilets.

I quickly dried my face and joined the others heading for the door. Outside in the corridor Mr Pasciuta was shouting instructions.

“This is not a drill. Leave immediately, don’t stop for your belongings. Go straight to the evacuation point.”

There was a surging crowd of girls heading down the stairs, and I was carried along by the flow. Not one of us believed it was an emergency: we could smell the burnt toast coming from the common room. Someone was going to be in big trouble.

Out on the playing fields we all lined up, waiting for the register to be taken. I could see no sign of Grace. I asked a few of the others but no one seemed sure where she was, and my phone, I realised, was in the side pocket of my bag, which was still in the common room.

It took forever for the fire brigade to decide that we could go back to lessons, and while we waited we were treated to another lecture.

No one seemed at all bothered about getting back inside except me. I didn’t want to be parted from my bag and the package
with the amulet, and being without it was making me more and more anxious. I had no idea what would happen if the time for the transfer came and I didn’t have it. Would Catherine notice and wait? Would she come back and try again later? I would have felt calmer if I had completely trusted Catherine, but there was something about her that nagged at the back of my mind. I would be glad to have this over and done with.

We were all suddenly called to order by a sharp command from the headmistress. This part of the lecture was short and to the point – I had rarely seen her so angry.

“Twice within a fortnight, girls! This is truly disgraceful.” She pulled herself up to her full height and started scanning the audience. We all quickly dropped our eyes.

“The Chief Fire Officer and I are extremely disappointed with your behaviour. Every toaster in the school will be removed this afternoon and every girl in the sixth form common room this morning will receive a detention. Now, back inside. We’ve wasted half an hour of valuable school time.”

Was it half an hour already? I looked at my watch in a panic. Catherine had agreed to come at eleven and it was ten-fifteen now. I edged towards the front of the crowd as we all started to file back into the building.

I just wanted to get to my rucksack, and I started walking as fast as I could, resisting the temptation to run. I got ahead of most of my friends, and broke into a trot as I hit the stairs. The first floor corridor was still deserted, so no one saw me sprint along it.

I was the first back into the common room, and I clutched my tatty old bag to my chest with a sigh of relief. I still had more than half an hour. I began to edge my way back downstairs, suddenly aware that my heart was pounding.

As I walked, I heaved the rucksack on to my back, taking my mobile out of the side pocket to call Grace. There was one new text message. I started to read it as I made my way downstairs, then stopped dead.

I whipped the bag off my shoulder and ripped it open. There was no package. I pushed aside books and files and checked every corner but it wasn’t there. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and a cold finger of fear ran down my spine. Eloïse practically fell over me as she climbed the stairs. “What is it, Alex? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Have – have you seen Grace today?” I asked.

She looked at me curiously. “Yes, of course. We were in geography earlier, and then she was in the common room. Now she’s gone on the environmental studies field visit to Kew Gardens. They left just before the fire alarm. Have you two had a row?”

“Um, no. I just had something important to tell her.”

“It’ll have to wait then, they’ll be hours yet. I did that trip last week: it’s cool. We did the Treetop Walkway. Grace’s team have gone with the group from the boys’ school.” She was shouting the last bit over her shoulder as the queue of impatient girls behind her pushed her up the stairs. I steadied myself against the wall.

Think! I told myself. I clenched my fists until the nails dug into my palms. I hadn’t thought about what would happen if Grace got the package without me being there, without me being able to control when she took it away. I had only been separated from my rucksack for a few minutes in the toilets before the alarms went off, but it had been too long.

The text from Grace had made it all very clear:

But Catherine’s instructions had been equally clear: “Make sure you have the amulet in your bag: I need it to locate you. But
don
’
t
wear it.”

Now Grace was carrying, but not touching, the amulet. Catherine would start trying to take her memories in about – I looked at my watch – thirty minutes. I remembered with hideous clarity the rest of her description: “If the mind we’re stealing from resists us then the person could be left a shell – barely alive. A person, but empty.”

Grace could be left with nothing – empty, ruined.

I felt a creeping horror, my hands suddenly clammy and the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I knew that whatever happened to Grace, it would be my fault. I had to warn her, and warn her quickly. My fingers were shaking as I tried to call her mobile. It rang, but after a few seconds it switched to voicemail. Grace’s happy, carefree voice sang in my ear. I hadn’t noticed before how long her greeting was. The seconds ticked painfully past, but finally I was able to leave a message.

“Grace, it’s me. It’s really, really important that you get rid of that package immediately! Drop it in the bin or something,
please
. Do it right now and call me straight back.”

If her phone was still playing up, I realised, it might be hours before she got to hear what I’d said. I needed a back-up plan. I racked my brain to work out who else was doing environmental studies. It wasn’t one of my subjects so I didn’t know the class and I was even less likely to have their phone numbers. I thought about Eloïse – she seemed to know about it. What had she said about the group? I remembered: it was a joint trip with the boy’s school, and I knew someone there who did environmental studies: Rob.

I really didn’t want to call him, but I had no choice. I scrolled
down my list of names until I found his number, and pressed the call key. I heard it connect and start to ring, and then there was a click and a recorded voice: he had cut me off.

I couldn’t believe it, so I tried again. The mechanical voice confirmed it: “This mobile may be switched off. Please try later.” I looked at my watch again – I had lost another two minutes. I didn’t know what Catherine would do. What if I was too late, and she started to try to take Grace’s memories? If she was searching for happy memories then Grace would have plenty of those. But Grace would instinctively resist Catherine, I knew that. Would Catherine stop when that happened?

My worries about Catherine and her motives, the concerns that I’d pushed to the back of my mind in my desperation to be free of my misery, came flooding in. Suddenly, I felt horribly sure that Catherine would take the memories, whether it was Grace in front of her or me. When it was my memories, my identity that had been at risk I’d been willing to silence the voice of caution in my head, but now I felt – no, I
knew
– that Grace was in dreadful danger.

I had just two choices: either I could keep trying to get a message to her or I could go there and try to get the amulet away from her myself. I realised that the longer I spent trying to find the names and numbers of the others on the trip, the less time I’d have to get there. Scooping up my bag I sprinted down the stairs and out of the nearest door. The car park was at the side of the building and I hoped that none of the teachers would notice my sudden exit.