OK?”
Her mother had sounded weak and worn out. Even something as simple as crying seemed to exhaust her. “It’s the stuff with your dad, that’s all.”
“Divorce stuff?”
“Nasty stuff, baby. Letters from lawyers, seeing a different side to someone you love, you know…”
“When can we come home?”
Static had crackled through the silence. “I don’t know. I think you’re probably … better off where you are right now.”
“How long?”
“New York’s still the same you’ll be glad to hear. Still noisy and crowded. Still a million miles an hour—”
“How
long
, Mom?”
Rachel had pictured her mother closing her eyes; covering her mouth to stop her breath from catching.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Listen I need to go…”
“Mom.”
Rachel! Don’t believe them
.
“I’m fine, though, baby. I promise.”
And Rachel had heard the lie, like a bad attempt at a foreign language. And she had known that her mother was suffering and that she could not say anything that might make her feel worse than she already did.
And so Rachel had lied too.
“I’m fine as well,” she had said. “We both are…”
Rachel was startled by the knocking at the door, but couldn’t bring herself to get up from the bed and answer it. She stared at the door, her head still swimming with the image of her mother, alone and unhappy, in an empty apartment.
Whoever was at the door knocked again.
“Rach? It’s me.”
Adam.
“I’m tired, Adam. I just want to go to sleep.”
The door opened and Adam strolled in, as though he hadn’t heard what she’d said or was choosing to ignore it.He moved around the room for half a minute, looking through Rachel’s CD collection, picking up a magazine and flicking idly through it.
“What do you
want
, Adam?”
Her brother looked across at her. Blinked and shrugged. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
“About
me
?”
“Yeah, course. You’re not eating, you don’t really talk to anyone…”
“You’re the one who’s behaving like a freak. As though all this is …
normal
.”
Adam looked back down at the magazine. “I’m just trying to make the best of it.”
“Best?” Rachel was suddenly buzzing with anger. “This place is a prison.” Adam pulled a face, like she was being stupid. Rachel raised her voice. “We’re being tested like lab-rats, we’re not allowed to go anywhere—”
“They’re trying to keep us safe.”
“We’re prisoners, and you’re acting like it’s some kind of high-class hotel.”
“Right. How many prisoners get to eat whatever they like? Have this much fun?”
“
Fun?
You think this is OK? Just because you can play computer games and eat cheeseburgers all day? What about our
lives
, Adam? What about our friends? What about Mom?”
Adam flicked through the pages more furiously. The skintightened round his mouth. “We don’t have to go to school. That’s a good thing, right? And we’re … special in here. It’s like we’re stars or something.”
“What have they been telling you, Adam? What have they done to you?”
Adam tossed the magazine back on to the bedside table and stood staring at the floor. His fists were clenched at his sides. “Nobody’s done anything. We’re just different, OK?”
Rachel lay back on the bed and turned away from her brother. Closed her eyes. “Yeah, different,” she said.
They stayed as they were for another minute, the silence only broken by the artificial, ambient sound of night-time New York and the distant hum of machinery from somewhere far beneath them. Finally, Adam marched across to the door and opened it.
He turned in the doorway. “So this is the way it’s going to be? You’re going to be … difficult?”
Rachel didn’t bother to open her eyes. “One of us has to be.”
“Yeah, and it’s always you.”
“Can’t you hear him?” Rachel asked.
“Hear who?”
“Gabriel.”
Adam’s voice was thick with derision.
Her mother had sounded weak and worn out. Even something as simple as crying seemed to exhaust her. “It’s the stuff with your dad, that’s all.”
“Divorce stuff?”
“Nasty stuff, baby. Letters from lawyers, seeing a different side to someone you love, you know…”
“When can we come home?”
Static had crackled through the silence. “I don’t know. I think you’re probably … better off where you are right now.”
“How long?”
“New York’s still the same you’ll be glad to hear. Still noisy and crowded. Still a million miles an hour—”
“How
long
, Mom?”
Rachel had pictured her mother closing her eyes; covering her mouth to stop her breath from catching.
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Listen I need to go…”
“Mom.”
Rachel! Don’t believe them
.
“I’m fine, though, baby. I promise.”
And Rachel had heard the lie, like a bad attempt at a foreign language. And she had known that her mother was suffering and that she could not say anything that might make her feel worse than she already did.
And so Rachel had lied too.
“I’m fine as well,” she had said. “We both are…”
Rachel was startled by the knocking at the door, but couldn’t bring herself to get up from the bed and answer it. She stared at the door, her head still swimming with the image of her mother, alone and unhappy, in an empty apartment.
Whoever was at the door knocked again.
“Rach? It’s me.”
Adam.
“I’m tired, Adam. I just want to go to sleep.”
The door opened and Adam strolled in, as though he hadn’t heard what she’d said or was choosing to ignore it.He moved around the room for half a minute, looking through Rachel’s CD collection, picking up a magazine and flicking idly through it.
“What do you
want
, Adam?”
Her brother looked across at her. Blinked and shrugged. “I’m worried about you, that’s all.”
“About
me
?”
“Yeah, course. You’re not eating, you don’t really talk to anyone…”
“You’re the one who’s behaving like a freak. As though all this is …
normal
.”
Adam looked back down at the magazine. “I’m just trying to make the best of it.”
“Best?” Rachel was suddenly buzzing with anger. “This place is a prison.” Adam pulled a face, like she was being stupid. Rachel raised her voice. “We’re being tested like lab-rats, we’re not allowed to go anywhere—”
“They’re trying to keep us safe.”
“We’re prisoners, and you’re acting like it’s some kind of high-class hotel.”
“Right. How many prisoners get to eat whatever they like? Have this much fun?”
“
Fun?
You think this is OK? Just because you can play computer games and eat cheeseburgers all day? What about our
lives
, Adam? What about our friends? What about Mom?”
Adam flicked through the pages more furiously. The skintightened round his mouth. “We don’t have to go to school. That’s a good thing, right? And we’re … special in here. It’s like we’re stars or something.”
“What have they been telling you, Adam? What have they done to you?”
Adam tossed the magazine back on to the bedside table and stood staring at the floor. His fists were clenched at his sides. “Nobody’s done anything. We’re just different, OK?”
Rachel lay back on the bed and turned away from her brother. Closed her eyes. “Yeah, different,” she said.
They stayed as they were for another minute, the silence only broken by the artificial, ambient sound of night-time New York and the distant hum of machinery from somewhere far beneath them. Finally, Adam marched across to the door and opened it.
He turned in the doorway. “So this is the way it’s going to be? You’re going to be … difficult?”
Rachel didn’t bother to open her eyes. “One of us has to be.”
“Yeah, and it’s always you.”
“Can’t you hear him?” Rachel asked.
“Hear who?”
“Gabriel.”
Adam’s voice was thick with derision.
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