Small Blue Thing (20 page)

I listened intently, desperate to hear something which might jog a memory and help me to let her know that I was still in here, still fighting, still wanting … what? It was gone: the ghost of a thought slipped past me before I could catch it. What was it I was yearning for? Or who?

The woman talked on, recalling a childhood I couldn’t remember, a brother who meant nothing to me, a boyfriend I didn’t care about. In fact, a boyfriend I
really
didn’t care about, I realised: whenever she mentioned Rob, I felt a vague stirring of anger. If it wasn’t a memory, at least it was something. What had he done to me? I searched and searched for anything which would tie the feeling to the name, but yet again, nothing came to me.

Eventually I heard her sigh and get up from my bedside. I felt her hair brush my cheek as she leant in to gently kiss my forehead.

“I’ll be back in a little while, sweet-pea,” she murmured. “I need to go and talk to the doctors with Dad. Grace will be here in a minute.” She leaned closer, putting her mouth close to my ear. “Keep fighting,” she whispered, urgently. “Just find enough strength to give me a sign. I know you are still in there.” She kissed me again and was gone.

Could she really tell, or was she just as desperate as I was? How was I going to communicate with her? As I worked fruitlessly through my non-existent options, I heard someone approach. The step was hesitant. “Alex?” whispered a new voice, younger than the others. “Your mum has got the doctors to give me ten minutes with you. It’s not really allowed, but, well, they can’t see what harm it can do.”

This must be the Grace my mother had mentioned. Apparently she was my best friend. “I came to tell you that I’m
really sorry.” It came out in a rush, as if she had been building up to it. “I don’t remember what happened, but I have a dreadful feeling that it was my fault in some way.” She hurried on, as if the quicker she said it, the less terrible it would be. “I took the package, and I was in Kew Gardens with the environmental studies group. All I remember is that I was by the Pagoda one minute, and then coming round in A&E, wearing your bracelet. I know how much you love it, so how it ended up on my wrist I can’t imagine…”

She finally paused for breath, and I felt her hesitate. “I – I think there is something really odd about it. It makes me feel a bit … strange, wearing it. Like someone is watching me. But somehow I don’t feel right taking it off, or at least I didn’t – not until now.”

She was making no sense to me at all. What package? What bracelet?

“And now the package is missing, I’m really sorry. I don’t know what happened to it. When I came round it was gone from my bag. But as the bracelet was so important to you, I thought you would want it back before … before…” Her voice faded for a few seconds. “In fact, I won’t really feel right until I’ve got it back on your wrist. I’m not sure what the rules are about jewellery in here, but your mum can always take it off later.”

This time her voice caught. There was a moment as she seemed to struggle, then a deep breath.

“My time is nearly up,” she choked, “I want you to know that you were the best friend I could have had, and that I will never forget you. Please forgive me if somehow I caused all this. I will miss you horribly.” She dissolved into sobs.

I felt my arm being lifted and something cool and comfortable being put around my wrist. Grace leaned over and kissed me, two hot tears dripping on my face.

There was a long pause, and her voice cracked as she tried to speak again. Eventually she pulled herself together enough to speak. “I love you, Alex. Be happy, wherever you go,” she sobbed. Then she was gone, and I felt the cool breeze on my face as the tears dried.

I was as good as dead. She was saying a last goodbye. How could I let them know that I was still here? As the thought went through my mind, I was aware of something strange: I felt no panic. The bracelet on my wrist felt cool against the skin of my wrist, and somehow soothing. It felt as if a wave of calm was flowing out of it, up my arm and around my body. The wave came closer to my head. What was going on? Was this it? Was this what death felt like? I felt the wave slowly surge into the only bit of me that was still me. As it reached my mind, I had a sudden blinding vision of a face, a face I knew I loved, and wanted. I felt a searing pain, a pain so harsh I felt myself straining up to try to get away, to try and call out, to make it stop. Then everything went blank.

Memories

I slowly became aware of a lot of noise. People were talking loudly, the machines were bleeping and there seemed to be an argument going on.

“But I can assure you Alex sat up for a moment.” The voice sounded really aggrieved. “Just look at the monitors. Something’s happened: the printouts have gone crazy.”

“Thank you, Nurse Price. I’ll take over. Now don’t let me keep you from your duties.” There was a huffing noise and the sound of retreating footsteps.

My mother’s voice cut in, breathless. “Doctor, what’s happened? I heard that there was a change, that Alex moved. Is that right? What does it mean?”

The doctor sounded weary. “As I have explained before, Mrs Walker, Alex has suffered irreversible brain damage. We’ve given her all the relevant scans, and there is nothing to indicate any form of consciousness. If she did do anything, which I cannot believe for a moment,” and here the voice became dismissive, “it can’t have been voluntary.”

“But she sat up! The visitors at the bed over there told me.”

“I am afraid that’s just not possible. They must have been mistaken.”

“But surely, Dr Sinclair,” said a new, deep voice, “isn’t it worth checking this out? I mean, shouldn’t we at least run some
more tests? What have we got to lose?”

“I can assure you that more tests would only raise your hopes unnecessarily.”

The argument went on and on. I wanted peace to think. Something had changed completely, in a way I couldn’t quite define. If only my dad would stop shouting at the doctor.

My dad? How did I know that the voice belonged to my dad? I could picture him with his kind and mischievous eyes, which I was sure would now be narrowed in anger as he squared up to the doctor. What had happened? I really needed to think, and there was too much going on.

“Please be quiet,” I tried to mutter, before realising that I had a large tube down my throat. I tried to cough it out. There was a stunned silence, and then pandemonium broke out.

“Alex, was that you?” cried my mum, grabbing my hand. “Baby, can you hear me? Say something!”

I could hear the doctor in the background. “It’s not possible! Not with a scan like that. Let me check her.”

I felt a hand on my face as someone opened one of my eyes and shined a bright light in it.

“Get off me!” I coughed. The light retreated and I felt hands pulling at me, checking my pulse, my reflexes, and finally taking out the tube. It was all too much. “Stop it!” I shouted with as much force as I could muster. “I need to think.” The hands disappeared.

“I’ll fetch the consultant,” said a voice, and several pairs of feet clicked away. There was silence broken only by a quiet sobbing.

“Oh, Alex, thank you! You came back!” sobbed my mum. “Just rest now. We can talk when you are ready.” I could hear some very unfamiliar snuffling noises. I opened my eyes cautiously. The light was unbearably bright, but Dad was sitting by the bed, tears
streaming down his face and over a huge smile. I smiled back, then shut my eyes so that I could think. They would wait for me.

Memories were flooding back to me now: my parents, Josh, Grace, school. My head felt as if it had been shaken and all the memories were still confused, but I wasn’t complaining: at least I had some now. But I sensed something was still missing.

As I had the thought, I became aware of him. I could see his beautiful face, his smile, his blue, blue eyes. I knew I loved him. Then, like a crushing weight falling on me, I remembered everything: I loved Callum, but he didn’t love me. I had been trying to forget, and it had all gone horribly wrong.

Callum. My heart ached unimaginably. I was going to have to live with this pain forever. Had he already moved on to another conquest? I clenched my fist and felt a single tear leak from my eye and roll down the side of my face. Someone gently tried to wipe it away, stroking my cheek with feather-light fingers.

My eyes snapped open.

My parents were together on the other side of the bed, deep in a discussion with the doctor. I was suddenly conscious of a tingling in my arm, and I turned my head. Standing by the side of my bed was a shining sheet of metal: part of a box-shaped piece of medical equipment. I could just see part of my reflection in the chrome. Right beside me was Callum, with a look of profound relief and love on his face and I was swamped with love for him. I smiled back and I felt his gentle touch on my face before I remembered his betrayal. How could I let myself smile? I couldn’t believe that I was going to put myself through all that pain again. I know that however much I wanted him, he wanted something else.

“Alex?” his voice was cautious. “I know that you can’t speak to me, but I have to explain to you what happened. But I have
to tell you the most important thing first: Catherine lied to you about so many things, and her biggest lie was to say that I didn’t care about you.”

I tensed, unable to let myself feel the hope that was already welling up inside me.

“I have only ever loved one person, and that person is you. Whatever she told you is nonsense. You are the single positive spark in my miserable, dark existence. I had no idea I could feel like this about anyone. My heart is yours and yours alone.”

His eyes were burning into mine, full of passion. Could I believe it? Could I risk letting that tidal wave of hope overpower me? If it was a lie, and I fell for him again, I didn’t think I could survive another betrayal. He saw me hesitate and his hopeful features crumpled into a mask of misery.

“She convinced you, didn’t she? I was too late to stop her. I can’t believe she was so cruel…” His voice tapered off, catching with emotion.

A posse of doctors was suddenly back at my bedside. I risked another glance at him. Whatever had happened, I couldn’t dismiss him. I needed to understand the truth. “Come back. Come back soon,” I quickly mouthed, and saw him nod once, briefly, his eyes still full of sadness, and then he was gone.

I took a deep breath. It was time to convince the doctors that I was OK. And it was time to give my parents a hug.

It took hours to persuade them all that I wasn’t dying, and that I had no idea about how I came to be in the hospital. I hoped Callum would be able to fill in the gaps when he came back – if he came back. I tried to push that thought away. They sent me for another scan, and then puzzled over the results. I heard the consultant muttering about it being an amazing case study, and
wondering if he could get the details into
The Lancet
. They peered into my eyes, tested my reflexes, and asked me endless questions. I answered them as honestly as I could. Some were easy. What month was it? Where did I go to school? What was the head teacher’s name? Others were trickier. Why were you in Kew Gardens? What happened to Grace? What happened to you? I couldn’t tell them the truth as I hardly knew the truth myself. Once they had decided that I was out of danger, they moved me out of the intensive care unit on to a normal ward, where I could be kept under observation for a while. The new ward had rather stricter visiting hours, and the ward sister sent my parents home in the early evening. There was a huge amount of noise and clattering as the nurses did the evening drugs round, then finally the lights were dimmed, and the snoring around me started. I really hoped Callum would turn up before I fell asleep. I moved the pillows so that I was sitting more upright, and instinctively rubbed the amulet, whispering his name.

Almost immediately I felt the familiar sensation in my arm and a light touch on my hair. Suddenly, I was afraid of what I was about to find out. Wasn’t it better to think that he might really love me than have my hopes shattered again? For a second I considered ripping off the amulet and remaining ignorant of it all, but I forced the thought aside, and looked for his face in the tiny make-up mirror I had begged my mum to leave with me.

I gulped as I saw him behind my shoulder. What if he hadn’t meant what he had said earlier? As I watched his familiar, haunting eyes met mine, and I felt his hand on my arm. I felt my eyes fill with tears. I knew I couldn’t bear to lose him again.

“Hello,” I whispered. “You found me.”

“When you are wearing this,” he traced the shape of the
amulet around my wrist, “I can find you anywhere. This whole … thing started when you weren’t wearing it.” His head dipped over my hand and I felt the briefest flutter as his lips touched the inside of my wrist. My heart lurched.

“You can’t imagine what I have been going through. Having failed to stop Catherine, I was so afraid that I might fail a second time and not get this back on you before … well, before it was too late.” He continued to stroke my wrist. He looked up at me, and I could see the tears threatening to brim over. Could he really mean it? I hardly dared to let myself hope. I needed to know more before I could risk that.

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, trying to keep as quiet as possible in the sleeping ward. “What happened? I remember racing to get to Grace, worried that Catherine would start to transfer memories from her, but it was my choice that she took my memories.” My voice had become barely audible, and I needed to be strong. I straightened up and looked squarely at him. “My choice. I wanted to forget all about you.” I raised my chin, challenging him to deny everything.

“How can I convince you that you have it all wrong?”

“Catherine could tell you. Why don’t you just ask her?”

“She’s gone.” His voice was bitter.

“Gone?” I asked. “How can she go anywhere? I thought that was the point, that you were trapped.” My voice was harsher than I intended.

“She used us both. She took what she needed to escape.”

“I really don’t understand.”

He drew a deep breath. “When I told you about us, about the Dirges, I told you how the amulets work for us, that we use them to collect good memories – individual good memories –
from strangers. We collect the happiness of others, but we never have any of our own.” He stopped, as if struggling to go on. “I never wanted you to know this; I thought it would make you afraid…”

I stared at him.

“I can see now that I should have told you the truth from the start. Then you’d never have listened to Catherine’s scheme.” He paused.

“Go on,” I whispered.

His voice was bleak and he spoke slowly and reluctantly. “There is a way to move on for us, but it is extremely rare and difficult to achieve. We need a combination of the amulet – the amulet on your side – and a willing mind and then we can…”

“Wipe it?” I hazarded.

“Take all their memories.” He paused. “Then our amulet is full, and it’s as if we’re whole again, I think. And when that happens we can move on. Veronica was the only Dirge I’ve heard of who had done it.”

“What else do you need to tell me?” I asked, coldly.

“I promise – I promise you – that I’ve only just found some of this stuff out, but it doesn’t make it any better.” He shook his head miserably, and then straightened up. “It seems there is only one amulet on your side, and we never know when it is going to turn up. It always appears in the Thames, and when it does appear it means that one of us can escape. When whoever has found it touches it, the amulet creates visions in the Dirge who will have the best connection with the finder. This time it was me.” He paused and I felt myself shiver, thinking of that sunny afternoon when everything changed.

“I didn’t tell the others because I usually keep myself to myself, so no one told me the implications. It wasn’t until I
mentioned you to Matthew that I realised the danger you were in, and by then I loved you too much to let anything happen to you.”

“And Veronica?” I prompted.

“That time the amulet had been discovered by a man, and she was able to persuade him to do as she asked. She had no compassion, just took what she wanted. We don’t know where she went, but at least she didn’t have to live as a Dirge. Matthew warned me to be very careful around you and to make sure you kept your amulet on your wrist, to stay safe. He could see that you were in no danger from me. What I didn’t know was that Catherine had been listening, and she realised that if she could get you to take off the amulet so you were cut off from me, and persuade you to offer her some memories, it was her chance to go. She’d hated normal life, it seemed, and she hated life as a Dirge more. She was willing to do anything – anything – to leave.” His voice was bitter.

I still didn’t understand. “So how did it all happen? What does the amulet actually do to me?”

“We can feel when we’re close to an amulet. It’s a kind of pull, like a magnet. But while you wear it, it will protect you from us, but being close and not touching it … well, we know where to find you, and you have no protection. That’s how whole minds are stolen. It’s why I never wanted you to take it off.”

“So why didn’t Catherine just swoop on me as soon as I
had
taken it off?”

“If the mind is willing, and memories are given freely, taking them is easier and more complete.”

“What happens to the people, the victims?” I asked, horrified.

“They’re left with nothing. No thoughts, no memories. Nothing that makes them
them
. The shock to the brain is terrible.”
He looked straight at me. “They die, I think.”