Soul Fire (6 page)

‘I had a baby brother,’ she says. ‘I know how to handle any tantrums.’

She sounds serious, but her eyes are smiling. I can imagine her as a head girl when she was alive. Serious on the surface, but with a wicked sense of humour once you got to know her.

‘What you cold-blooded northern Europeans see as tantrums, we Latinos know as being passionate,’ Javier says. He’s teasing, yes, but he sounds so much less savage than he did
immediately after Triti died. And I wonder if Gretchen is a better match: poor Triti was so full of anguish, while Gretchen seems grounded.

They’re chattering away in Spanish now – so, Gretchen is multi-lingual as well as funny. I don’t understand the words, but I hear the unfamiliar lightness in Javier’s
voice. Yes. She is going to be good for him. And he could be good for her too. He’s a sweet guy, once you can get past the sarcasm. And it’s so rare to find a Guest who says he
doesn’t
want to escape.

Javier’s hinted at the truth a few times: Soul Beach is way, way better than his real life ever was. Occasionally he tells sweet stories about his mother, his little sisters, but never his
father. His death seems particularly pointless: he fell from an unfenced roof during a festival. There was a suggestion he might have taken drugs, but no evidence. Of course there must have been
more to it, or he wouldn’t be here. But as long as he has friends to while away the hours with, Javier is adamant that he adores his afterlife. Though just occasionally I’ve wondered
whether he protests
too
much. Whether he’s repeating the same line over and over because he’s desperate to convince himself it’s true.

Every Guest here died before their time. Can there honestly be such a thing as
no regrets
?

I let my eyes wander along the Beach. It’s so beautiful. If you could live in the moment, and be certain you’d never be lonely, maybe eternity could be bearable.

Then I see them: Meggie and Tim.

They’re not touching, they’re not even speaking, but their faces are turned to each other and they seem unaware of anything else. Exactly how I feel when I’m with Danny.

Enraptured.

I can’t take my eyes off them. I don’t see the violence, the waste of life that their deaths involved. I see peace and contentment and tenderness. My instincts were right: Tim
couldn’t have killed Meggie. This is how they’ll while away their eternity. Together. The scene is perfect, too perfect to spoil.

But I know I have to. I get up and wave a goodbye to Javier and Gretchen.

I take a few steps towards my sister and Tim, but they don’t stir. Have I become invisible? Perhaps the Beach is playing tricks again. Another step. And another.

My sister sees me at last, and she acknowledges me with the briefest of nods, which I take as permission to interrupt.

Now I’m so close that Tim should have noticed me, but still he gazes at Meggie.

‘Tim, I know this will come as a shock . . .’ I whisper, and it strikes me that I sound exactly like my sister. He stares, as though he’s trying to work out how she spoke
without moving her lips. Then he turns his head towards me, and his jaw drops.

Meggie reaches out to grab his hand. ‘It’s OK, Tim. Alice isn’t dead. She’s . . . not really here. Or, she is, but . . .’ The complications of the Beach are too
much for her.

‘I’m a Visitor,’ I say, trying to keep my voice reassuring. ‘I am still alive in the real world but I can come here, too. Because of the bond between me and Meggie. I
know it sounds weird, but . . . well, it is weird, actually. But wonderful, too.’

That’s probably enough. I’ll leave my sister to explain the rest when she thinks he’s ready. If anyone can ever be ready for that.

The struggle to understand shows on Tim’s face, but after a few seconds, he shakes his head. ‘I can’t make sense of any of this.’

Meggie laughs gently. ‘It’s hardly surprising, my love. Don’t try to reason. Just be glad we’re together.’

When she says that, I feel like someone’s kicked me. She means the two of them. Don’t I matter to her anymore?

But then Meggie turns. ‘Tim, me and my baby sister Florrie. Like the old days.’

I’m about to tell her off for giving away her awful nickname for me, when I realise Tim is too shocked to have heard. She budges up so there’s room for me on the blanket. As I sit
down, I brush against Tim’s arm, and we both jump. He feels too real.

There’s so much I want to ask him.

His eyes meet mine and I can tell he’s waiting for those questions. There’s a steadiness in his gaze, as though he
wants
me to know the truth.

Meggie sees it too. ‘Alice can’t askyou anything about . . . well, what happened to you or me, Tim. If she does, she’ll be banned. I will never see her again. So we need to be
careful. But you can tell her things, when you’re ready.’

‘I didn’t . . .’ he begins. ‘I didn’t kill her, Alice. I didn’t. And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, either. I shouldn’t be here,
I shouldn’t—’ But then he breaks down. Tears roll down his cheeks, but he looks angry, not sad.

Meggie leans forward, and holds him. ‘Shh. Don’t try to explain now, baby. We have so much time. So much. I promise you. The three of us. We’ll talk when the moment is
right.’

I try not to cry out with frustration. They might have forever, but I don’t. And I desperately need answers. But Meggie’s right, I won’t get them now.

I pull away from the screen. I’d forgotten I was at Lewis’s place. Mum will be sending out a search party if I don’t get home soon. I scramble up from the sand, kiss my sister
lightly on the cheek – her breath a whisper on my skin – and she thanks me with her eyes.

Tim doesn’t even notice me go.

When I get home, Mum’s been baking; the whole house is steamy with condensation.

‘Good day, Alice?’ she says, wiping sweat from her forehead. She bakes when she wants to Make Everything Better. ‘What did you get up to?’

‘Hung out with Lewis. He’s got a new flat so we . . . went shopping for cushions, houseplants, that kind of thing. He’s a boy, you know – no idea which colours go with
which.’ I lie so she won’t think we spent the whole day in front of the computer.

She nods, satisfied. ‘Just like your dad! Now, take a look in the dining room.’

I open the door. She’s set up my laptop and keyboard on the table, so that the screen faces towards the living room; she can checkup on me instantly.

Next to the laptop, there’s a plate of lopsided cookies, a DVD box and an application form.

‘For your provisional driving licence,’ she says. ‘If you apply now, you can take the theory test as soon as you’re seventeen. And the DVD is driving software, to help
you prepare.’

‘Great. Thanks. And the cookies look delicious.’

She gives me a quick, nervous hug. ‘You do understand about the online thing, don’t you, Alice? I want what’s best for you. New friends. New horizons. And you won’t get
those sitting hunched over your laptop, will you?’

If only she knew.

I take the cookies upstairs with me, and the space where the laptop was taunts me. I try to read a school book, but the words don’t stick. I pick up a magazine, but the
pages are full of ‘celebrities’ with less than a thousandth of Meggie’s talent, and I throw it across the room in disgust, knocking over a perfume bottle. I laugh. I haven’t
worn perfume in months. No point on the Beach where everything smells of ozone and lilies.

I doze on my bed, wondering how long Mum can keep up this stupid bloody ban. And then I start thinking about Burning Truths . . .

My phone wakes me up. Sahara’s name flashes on the screen. I almost let it go to voicemail, but that’s the coward’s way out. And, anyway, she might
know
something.

‘Hello Sahara.’

‘Oh, God, Alice. I’m so glad I caught you, you poor thing. How are you feeling? It’s
so
awful, but, even so, there’s a kind of justice to it, don’t you
think? Not that I wanted Tim to die, of course, but it’s the end, isn’t it? Finally. The end of this whole awful, horrible business.’

She stops. I think she’s out of breath. I can picture her: her long pale face slightly flushed as she waits for my answer.

‘I’m not quite sure how I feel, Sahara.’

‘Oh.’ She sounds shocked that I’m not emoting enough. ‘Well, I know you weren’t convinced Tim was the, um, killer. But surely now you can see. It
must
have
been him.’

There’s no point trying to explain why I can’t see. ‘How’s Ade?’

‘In pieces. You know, I’m sure he feels responsible in some way. Because he’d gone out. He thinks he should have spotted the state that Tim was in. I mean,
hello
? Tim
fooled us into thinking he was a nice guy. So of course he could hide suicidal thoughts, no problem. I’ve told Ade. The guilt stops here.’

‘You’re right. He shouldn’t feel bad.’

Unless he killed Tim?

I don’t know where that thought came from. I brush it aside.

‘We’re all upset, Alice. I’m trying not to let him see how devastated I am.’

‘You hated Tim.’

‘It’s not black and white like that. I was very close to him before Meggie died.’

‘We all were,’ I snap.

I hear a choking sound at the end of the line. I’ve made her cry. Shit. If anyone should know that everyone grieves in a different way, I should.

She gulps. ‘Anyway, Alice. This isn’t about the past. It’s about the future. The one good thing that could still come out of all this is that tragedy can bring people
closer.’

We never were close
. ‘Right.’

‘It’s Ade’s birthday next week. Originally we were planning a party. Now no one feels much like celebrating, of course, but I feel it’s important he knows he’s got
friends supporting him. He’d love you to be there.’

Love?
I didn’t even know Ade before Meggie died. ‘Are you sure? I mean, I’m not even old enough to drink, officially.’

She laughs. ‘I remember saying the same to you when I bumped into you in Greenwich that time.’

That was the afternoon she showed me my sister’s bedroom. She wasn’t supposed to have the key, but she took a strange pride in getting in, showing me how the police had gutted the
place, removed carpets, furniture, even the wash basin. The only thing that was left was
that
fear I had. The feeling that pure evil had seeped into the four walls and would never be cleaned
away.

Sahara’s still talking. ‘Please come, Alice. I promise it’ll help. We knew Meggie. We understand what a difference she made to all our lives.’

Dinner is awkward. Mum and Dad have turned into lovesick kids. The idea that they’re closer now because Tim is dead makes me feel queasy.

I excuse myself as soon as I can, and I hear them stacking the dishwasher
together
, like some TV commercial couple. I go to my bedroom but I forget about my laptop again till I open the
door and see my empty desk. For a moment, I feel like I’ve been burgled.

I half wish I’d stayed downstairs, but the thought of them holding hands while they watch
Coronation Street
is too much.

It’s only when they creep past my door giggling –
giggling? –
that I have an idea. How come it’s taken me this long to realise they can’t watch me
twenty-four seven?

I can still hear them whispering as I set my alarm. I hope they’re drunk enough to sleep all through the night.

Four a.m. is the loneliest time. I feel like I’m the only person awake, or even alive.

I’ve never been on the Beach at this hour. Beach time seems fluid, but most of the Guests are asleep and the moon is ghostly.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. Spin round.

‘Danny! Bloody hell, you nearly scared the life out—’

He silences me with a kiss, and my anger fades as his lips cast their spell on me. But . . .

He pulls away before I do. ‘What is it?’

‘What’s what?’

‘Alice, even a kiss when your heart’s not in it is still the best kiss ever, but a guy gets insecure. Is it the new Guest who’s distracted you?’

I look over his shoulder. Meggie and Tim are lying next to each other. In her sleep, Meggie loses her coolness and they look like children. Babes in the wood.

‘There. You’re staring at him. You don’t think he’s cuter than me, do you?’

I laugh, despite myself.

‘That’s funny?’ he asks.

‘It’s funny because in the real world . . .’ I tail off. I was going to tell him how everyone thought I had a crush on Tim when Meggie first started dating him. But maybe
it’s not funny anymore. ‘Forget it. There’s no one I fancy except you.’

‘Right answer,’ he says, and this time, when he kisses me, I let myself forget everything else, just for a while. The darkness offers something so rare on the Beach –
privacy.

Ever since Triti escaped, I’m always being watched. So many Guests want to leave, and they know I am their best chance. I sense them looking at me, and I feel the burden of their hopes,
their dreams, their fears. If I could, I’d help every one of them, but Meggie has to come first.

Tonight, though, the darkhides me. Danny and I kiss as the water laps around our ankles. I store it up in my memory: the cool breeze, the touch of his lips on mine, the ticklish whisper of his
voice in my ear.

‘So what shall we do, lovely Alice?’ he asks.

‘Nothing. I want a night of doing nothing except being with you. Being . . . well, normal.’

‘Normal has never sounded so wonderful.’

We kiss. We talk. We watch the sea, and the birds silhouetted against the moon. Whenever my eyes droop, Danny wakes me by whispering in my ear. He never falls asleep
himself.

‘I can sleep while you’re far away from me, Alice. I’d rather be awake while you’re here.’

And as we relax, we talk. Not about the big stuff, but first-date small talk. All the little things we never knew about each other.

‘Favourite food, Danny?’

‘Carbonara. And my grandma’s apple pie. You?’

‘Chicken tikka masala. And the little Greek honey pastries we had on our last holiday with Meggie.’