Weeks in Naviras (15 page)

By then I had a parliamentary pass sponsored by James so I could go into Westminster without anyone having to collect me from the security search. When he emailed me at work to tell me the news of his promotion I thought it’d be nice to go down to Parliament with some champagne. I’d let him drink it, along with anyone else who happened to be around.

I was fairly late finishing up at work, trying to square everything off before going on maternity leave. I’d been using taxis to get around a lot the previous few weeks, but on arrival back in London I caught the tube to Westminster since I knew the trains wouldn’t be crowded at that time. As I was walking down the stairs to the ticket hall in Liverpool Street I sent James a quick text to say I was coming, where would he be? I must’ve been in a place between losing the phone network but before joining the tube wifi, and I didn’t notice the message had failed to send. When I resurfaced at Westminster and James hadn’t replied I called him but he didn’t answer, so I decided the most sensible thing to do would be to check his office in Portcullis House.

It must have been about nine o’clock, and the building was deserted and dimly lit, with only a couple of police officers in the atrium downstairs. I took the lift up to his rooms. The door was closed but I could hear James’s voice behind it. His office consisted of two rooms; the first one housed his researcher, with a door on the left-hand side leading to his larger private study. The researcher’s room was deserted, they’d long gone home for the evening. The door to James’s office was open, though, so I could immediately see through into it.

James had his back to me, standing in front of the desk, his trousers and underwear around his ankles. I watched his buttocks wobble as they thrust back and forward. Rosie couldn’t see me because she was facing the other way, bent over James’s desk and making very little noise.

I must have stood there, bottle of champagne in my hand, for no longer than five seconds. Then I turned and left, leaving the outer door to swing close with a soft click. I heard it as I was walking quickly down the corridor and into the lift, which was still open. I didn’t stop, I didn’t look back, not even when I was back down in the atrium and heading for the front doors of the building. A taxi was coming up the Embankment, I got into it and went home.

I lay in bed, uncomfortable with Bobby kicking me. I didn’t cry. Why? Because I didn’t feel angry or betrayed or any of the things you expect to feel in these situations. Those came later. Instead I felt guilty. In my mind, at that time, I decided it was punishment for writing that note to Luis.

For a moment I just stand at the top of the staircase; wanting to walk to the balcony outside and greet Gavin, but aware that he’s just met Rob, who’s clearly an old friend. I stare at their profiles through the large windows of the hotel lounge. Having given each other a long, back-patting bear hug they’ve separated and are standing a few feet apart, facing one another and grinning. I’ve never seen Gavin look so pleased, his head’s waving slightly from side to side, happily bemused. I watch his mouth move quickly, he’s gesticulating at the mountains behind him, his arms stretching out to indicate expanse and spe
ed. Rob’s nodding in agreement

This moment isn’t something I’m supposed to see, it should be for just the two of them. I’ve already had two such moments before with Lottie and Luis, these men should be allowed to enjoy their reunion without me interfering. But then Rob turns and points at me, Gavin’s eyes shift, then lock on. He seems more confused at seeing me than Rob, as well he might.

I walk slowly forward, across the lounge, pulling open the sliding patio door and stepping out onto the balcony. I hear Rob trying to describe how long he’s been here, but it’s obvious Gavin’s not paying much attention, his eyes remain fixed on me. He’s unsure whether to embrace me; it’s not something we would’ve done in life but those anxieties surely don’t matter now, do they? At least that’s what I decide as I walk forward and hold out my arms. For a second or two we’re close, but it doesn’t instil the same joy as my earlier hug with Lottie.

Gavin speaks first. ‘I had no idea you’d ever been here.’

‘I haven’t, Gavin, and before I was somewhere else.’

This doesn’t seem to quite register with him. ‘You wanna go skiing? I’m sure we can get you some proper clothes.’

‘It’s not something I’ve ever really done before,’ I say. ‘Skiing, I mean. And we need to talk, I need to tell you some things. They’re important.’ I nod at my own words.

‘Oh, but Ellie, it’s the best skiing I’ve ever done, it’s more like flying. You can’t fall over.’ He looks younger, like me. His hair’s brown, completely free of grey flecks, but he’s also acting younger, less careworn. ‘You can jump off drifts ten feet high, and you always land okay.’

I fold my arms. ‘Rob’s been telling me.’

‘It’s funny, I stopped coming here about ten years ago.’ He’s looking up at the gondolas; two of them have just passed each other on their way up and down. ‘It used to be really off the beaten track, you know? Then it got developed, they put more runs in and added more lifts, built more hotels. It got too big and crowded. But now, it’s just how it was when I first came here. Listen, are you cold?’ He looks up and down at me.

I’m about to say no, but then have a thought and turn to Rob. ‘It would be good to get out of these clothes, Rob do you know where I might be able to get some?’

Rob squints at me. ‘Can’t you just do that thing you did earlier? You should see this trick she taught me, Gavin, you can just..’

‘It doesn’t work with clothes,’ I interrupt. ‘Trust me, I’ve tried it. Would you mind seeing if there’s anything I can change into?’

Rob considers this for a second. ‘Sure, I can go check for you, someone inside might know.’

‘That would be so kind of you,’ I don’t want Rob to hear what I have to say to Gavin.

‘Back in a sec,’ Rob turns, pats my bare shoulder before walking past me, pulling back the door and heading back inside. The door slides back shut behind him. I tell Gavin he has to listen to me, and as quickly and clearly as possible I recount everything that’s happened to me since I broke through the surface of the water in Naviras Bay. I’m expecting him to be shocked, and am a bit disappointed when he’s not. If anything he’s just pleasantly surprised.

‘That’s good, though, isn’t it? It means you can find James, and maybe I’ll run into Morgan.’

I can almost feel myself frowning. ‘I think James was with Rav, though, in Parliament,’ I pause for a second. ‘And I’m sure I heard his voice behind the door to his office, but when I went to open the door, I ended up here. Literally, just over there.’ I point out the small log cabin in the mid-distance near the gondola station.

Gavin looks confused. ‘I was just on my way back up for another run when I started to remember what happened. Then I thought maybe Morgan might be here, in the hotel.’ His eyes narrow slightly. ‘She never cared much for it here, you know. She hated to ski, and I never managed to convince her of the merits.’

I watch as his eyes seem to unfocus for a second. He’s remembering. ‘She came here once, but she never got to the slopes,’ he continues. ‘She stayed in here the whole time, working on some policy paper. All day long, on her computer or talking on the phone. She was miserable, and she wasn’t afraid to let it show.’ His eyes refocus on me, seeking understanding or perhaps answers. ‘Ellie,’ it’s almost a whisper. ‘Where is she?’

‘I don’t know where she is, Gavin. Maybe she survived the attack.’

Gavin’s turns back to the mountains, briefly. ‘She was always tough.’ Then he turns and looks at me, down at my sarong, back up at my face. ‘You look good in those clothes,’ he says, hesitantly.

There it is, the answer to a question I’ve been pondering all this time. There’s still desire here. Why, though, didn’t I feel it from Luis?

‘So do you,’ I say. ‘You look, I don’t know, ten years younger? Maybe more.’

He ruffles his hair, perplexed. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

‘You haven’t looked in a mirror? Look,’ I take his arm and we walk to the window, where it’s just possible to make out our reflections.

‘Jesus,’ he says as he stares at himself. The light on the window’s slightly diffuse but the changes are still obvious. I see him smiling at his own reflection but as I turn slightly and look at myself I get a shock; my earlier enhancements - the perter boobs, the indented waist, the line-free face - all of them have gone. At some point since leaving Casa Amanhã I’ve reverted to my true age. When I frown at myself every crease is revealed. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. Sad to have lost my brief return to youth perhaps, but then also curiously relieved. At least I’m an accurate reflection of myself, once again, I think. It’s just strange to see it while standing next to Gavin, who by rights is older than me yet doesn’t look so. If he’s noticed the age discrepancy he doesn’t say so. He turns away from the window first. ‘This wasn’t what I was expecting. Not at all.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

He chuckles to himself. ‘I don’t know, pearly gates, my grandparents, friends who’ve died. Pets, even.’

I turn back to face the mountains. ‘Where do you think Morgan might be, assuming she didn’t survive?’

Gavin drums his fingers softly on the balcony ledge. ‘I don’t know. Maybe the White House?’

‘But you hated it there. I know you did, just like I hated Westminster.’

He thinks for a moment. ‘Hate is too strong a word. I found it difficult, challenging. I was living Morgan’s life, not my own. You understand how that felt, I know.’

I nod. ‘Is there anywhere else the President might be?’

‘It’s where she always wanted to be,’ Gavin’s speaking slowly. ‘I guess she could be at her place in Ventura.’

I’d been to their large house there, just a year before the attack. I’d been envious of their Californian lifestyle, even though it had been the source of much taunting in the press and on talk-shows. It’s this thought that leads me to another, one I really should’ve paid attention to before. I look around the balcony, through the windows into the lounge. Everyone’s ignoring us, in the same way men in Parliament had ignored me and Lottie.

‘There’s one thing I don’t understand, Gavin. You’re one of the most well-known people in the world, or you used to be. Yet nobody here seems to know you. Nobody’s giving you a second glance. That’s a bit odd, isn’t it?’

Gavin frowns. ‘Maybe they don’t remember me.’

‘But why wouldn’t they?’

Then there’s the rumbling sound again. I can feel the balcony floor vibrating underneath me, ever so slightly. There’s another avalanche in progress, right at the top of one of the peaks to our right. It’s fairly localised and doesn’t last long. When I turn to look around the balcony and into the bar, I’m surprised to find everyone’s ignoring it, they’re still just chatting away, sipping their hot chocolate.

Gavin’s seen it, though. ‘God, I hope nobody got caught up in that.’

I’m at a loss for words. ‘Is that common, here?’

He shakes his head, clearly troubled. I’m just about to suggest to Gavin that we go inside when there’s a hand on my shoulder. I turn around to find Rob’s back, but he’s brought a woman with him. Fairly young with auburn hair, dressed in thermal layers like everyone else here except me.

‘This is the lady I met at the top station earlier,’ says Rob, quite proudly.

‘I just wanted to introduce myself,’ she says. ‘I’m Alana. I guess you two just got here?’

‘Did you just see that?’ I say. ‘The avalanche.’

‘Oh, it happens from time to time, it’s nothing to worry about.’ She’s bright and breezy, I can’t quite get a measure of her as she turns to Gavin. ‘I just wanted to say it’s an honour to meet you, sir.’ She holds out her hand and he shakes it.

I see the smile he puts on, it’s the same one I’ve worn a hundred times. ‘You know who I am.’

‘Sure, I just came up the stairs and there you were. For a while there, I was just trying to work out if it really was you. Did she win?’

Gavin pauses for a moment, then comprehends. ‘Oh yes. Yes, she won.’

Alana jumps up and down twice. She’s wearing fluffy red chalet socks. ‘That is just the best. I was thinking that, as I watched you. I just knew she’d won. I just wish I’d gotten to vote for her.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘Not that it would’ve helped much in Texas, but still.’

I’m curious about her, uncomfortably so. ‘You’re from there? Texas, I mean.’

‘Born and raised. Galveston. A pileup on the highway, before you ask.’ She shrugs it off. ‘You start to paraphrase it all here, after a while. To be honest I haven’t thought about my life much, not until I saw you.’ She’s talking to Gavin, but her eyes keep darting back to my face. From what she says I assume she died six months before Morgan was elected, which means she’s been dead for three years. She explains she’s waiting for her husband. ‘He used to love it here, too. We both did.’

‘You can’t have been married long,’ I say.

‘Just a year. We were, like, just thinking about starting a family. It’s funny, but I just
know
he’ll turn up here if I wait long enough.’

I feel like pointing out how unlikely that sounds, surely her husband would’ve met another woman, started a new life. But it seems churlish to burst her bubble. ‘Maybe he’s somewhere else,’ I offer instead. ‘I’ve been in two other places, since I died,’ I say.

She turns fully to look at me. ‘You must’ve moved on from where you started out. You hear about that, but I’ve never someone who’s done it, until now anyway.’

‘But I didn’t have a choice in the matter,’ I reply quickly. ‘Certainly not the second time. And it was right at the moment I was about to see people I know, people who died at the same time as me.’

‘Maybe you weren’t ready to see them,’ suggests Alana.

‘What on earth does that mean?’ For the first time I feel myself getting angry. ‘It’s not fair,’ I turn to Gavin. ‘Everyone else seems to get what they want, except me.’

Gavin’s about to speak but then the rumbling begins again, and this time the whole balcony seems to shake. We all turn to look at the mountains, but it’s hard to make out the peaks because of the falling snow. It’s a much bigger avalanche than the previous two, it seems the whole mountainside’s falling off. The snow cascades down, obliterating the gondola cables and support pylons. We watch as the pods separate from their couplings and crash into the advancing wave of snow.

‘We should get inside,’ says Gavin.

‘Why? What’s there to be scared about, we’re already dead,’ I say, but it’s not clear whether any of them have heard me amid the noise. I notice it’s not just the snow that’s falling, the mountains themselves seem to be crumbling. Bits of rock are sliding from the peaks, Rob opens the door, shouts at us to come inside and Alana follows him. The door closes behind them.

The torrent of snow has consumed the bottom gondola station, then it reaches and buries the furthest log cabin. It passes the spot where I first met Rob. Bits of wood, rock and metal surf the leading edge of the avalanche. The sound’s deafening but I’m sure I can hear something else underneath it, like a car alarm, maybe? It’s repeating, going from high to low every other second.

‘Come on, Ellie,’ Gavin’s walked past me towards the door, pulling on my arm. ‘Please, we’ve gotta get inside.’

‘It can’t hurt us,’ I insist, practically snarling at Gavin. ‘Because it isn’t real.’ Part of me wants to be swept away by the avalanche, or be buried by it, maybe.

Gavin pushes back the door, but as he does so he seems to shrink, condense, lose his physical integrity.  His body becomes conical and then seems to be sucked through the door. It’s quick and silent, but it looks very much like how I felt when I tried to enter Rav’s office in Parliament. With no-one to hold it open, the door slides shut.