In the Shadow of Satellites (28 page)

***

I grab one of Nanna’s knitted blankets off the back of the couch, and we lay it down at Luke’s, not far from the fire. The air is cooler tonight than it’s been in a long time, but with Luke beside me I barely feel it.

I curl up beside him, like I did once before, my head resting on his chest, his arm wound around me. I don’t tell him about the wardrobe. That’s between James and I. We don’t talk about the boat, either. I think he understands that some things I have to do for myself, by myself, and I’m grateful. I don’t really think I can find the words to explain it properly anyway.

“Look,” he points up at the sky. “Shooting star.”

We watch in awe as a trail of light blazes across the sky then disappears.

“Is that really a shooting star?” I ask.

“Sure. Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“Never. I’ve never really been much of a star-gazer.”

“Huh,” he breathes, pulling me closer. “We used to do this a lot when I was a kid. Lying outside under the stars, watching the sky for them.”

“Did you see very many?”

“A few. Not as many as I would’ve liked, to be honest. That’s the first one I’ve seen for a long time.”

I know what he’s thinking. I’m thinking it too. Maybe it’s a sign?

He leans down to kiss the top of my head, and I smile, the contented smile of someone I never thought I’d be again.

“I’m gonna ask you something now, and it’s something that’s been driving me crazy ever since I’ve been here,” he says.

“Okay. Colour me intrigued.”

“What the hell does ‘yeah, nah’ actually mean? Is it yes or is it no, because I’ve got no goddamn idea.”

I giggle like a schoolgirl. I can’t help it.

“I’m serious,” he says, squeezing me to him. “It’s not funny. Half the time I can’t understand what y’all are saying. It’s another language, I swear. So, stop laughing, and tell me – is it yes or is it no or is it something else entirely?”

I try to swallow down the laughter and take him seriously, clearing my throat.

“It’s like saying ‘whatever’ or ‘maybe’. Its non-committal most of the time, but sometimes it means yes and sometimes it means no.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Unbelievable.”

I grin into his chest, shrugging.

Our conversation comes with longer and longer pauses, and at some point, he reaches over to pull his sleeping bag over us. That’s the last thing I remember before sleep claims me.

***

I wake up with a start, my body jerking awkwardly.

Geezer barks, shocking me again. Geezer almost never barks these days.

“What is it?” Luke mumbles sleepily.

It takes a moment to register, but there’s an unnatural glow coming through the trees that sets my heart racing. The night air is alive with hissing and popping, like a giant bonfire.

Bonfire.

Fire!

I leap up, taking off at a crazy sprint along the side of the house and through the trees, praying to a God I no longer believe in that this is a dream. It has to be. It has to be!

But it’s not.

I emerge from out of the trees to stop, stock still. I can’t move. My world is burning and all I can do is watch.

Flames lick at the curtains, turning them to ash in a heartbeat. Sparks rain down like fireflies in the night sky. Acrid smoke fills the air, and I think I’m going to be sick, but I don’t move. All I can do is stand there and watch, horror paralysing me.

That’s when I see him.

James, standing at the window, watching me.

It only takes a moment, a heartbeat, and I make my decision.

I run straight for the doorway, heading for the flames that are spilling out. I’m so close, the heat and smoke burn my throat. I’m not going to lose them a second time. I won’t survive it again.

Then I’m roughly jerked backwards.

It takes me a second to fight, but when I do, I’m a banshee. The scream rips out of me with such force that it stings my vocal chords. I fight with everything I have left, and more. I scratch and tear, writhing and pulling, but he will not let me go. He’s much stronger than I am and I know from the way he’s holding me that he’s never going to.

Luke.

The scream dies, turning into a sobbing gasp as I run out of air. I dissolve like a ball of wet tissue, but still he doesn’t let go. We fall to the damp grass together as the flames devour everything. I can’t breathe. The noise is deafening.

He says something I can’t hear, pulling me towards him, turning my face away from the fire that is quickly engulfing the cottage. I resist, refusing to look away, even as the smoke and tears sting my eyes.

I need to see.

If I’m going to lose him again, I’m going to see it happen this time, even if it burns my eyes out of my skull.

The flames reach ever higher, until they’re almost touching the stars. The heat is unbearable, and Luke pulls me backwards until we’re sitting on the jetty, suspended between fire and water. The gas barbeque bottle explodes, shooting a rocket up into the air. It seems to happen in slow motion, as if I’m watching a movie. Even the sound dies away. I turn to look at Luke, and his mouth is moving but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I can’t hear anything anymore.

I can see, though. I see everything. I refuse to blink, refuse to miss anything. My home, my sanctuary, my memories are burning and I will not miss any of it, not this time.

I search the windows, the door, but I can’t see James anymore.

He’s gone. They’re gone.

Panic rips through me. With renewed vigour I fight against Luke, struggling to get him to release me and let me go to them. I don’t know how to help them, to save them, but it doesn’t matter because he holds me tight anyway.

Helplessness bubbles up inside of me as the sound returns to my world.

The hissing and popping of the fire. The cracking and splintering of wood. The smashing of glass as the windows blow out. The scream, part frustration and part infuriation, that peals out of me.

Right at this moment, I hate him so much it hurts.

My precious memories, so carefully catalogued in case they disappear into the black hole, are gone. If I lose the real ones, the ones in my head, I will never make my way back. I know that with a certainty that carves through my soul, hollowing it out and leaving it ragged and bleeding.

This is one of the two thoughts that echo around inside my head and my heart, tearing my soul to ribbons.

The other is that my sanctuary, where James was alive and real, is ash.

The sound of Kieran’s laughter, of his crying, of his voice, is gone.

They’re gone. It’s all gone.

Night turns into day.

“Sian?”

Luke’s voice cuts through the misery, if only for a moment. I have his sleeping bag pulled tightly around me, huddled in a bubble of my own despair, unable to speak, unable to stop shaking. I can’t get warm. I can barely breathe. The sadness drags me under until I can barely see the sky.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.”

I don’t remember the boat ride over. I don’t remember seeing Ana. I don’t remember whose car we drove here in. I don’t remember the journey at all. My memory is swallowing up details whole. Soon I won’t remember anything.

He carries me into the house, still wrapped in his sleeping bag. The sky is blue, wispy white clouds streaking across it, and I can’t take my eyes off them. They look close enough to touch, yet so far away I can barely see them. Nothing is real anymore.

Lying on the bed in Ana’s spare bedroom, I stare at the wall, afraid to close my eyes. I can hear them talking in the living room, low voices with words I don’t want to understand.

Luke stays, even though I don’t want him to. I want him to leave, but he’s stubborn. I’m not surprised. Not much surprises me now. Surprises take energy that I don’t have.

The world turns, but I don’t see it. I don’t see anything anymore, except the emptiness inside me. It’s gone. It’s all gone, and it doesn’t matter what Luke says or does, I know. I hear the desperation in his voice but I’m too far gone to react to it. I’m too far gone to react to anything. I don’t think I’ll make it back this time. I’m not sure I want to anymore. There doesn’t seem to be much point.

I can’t eat because my stomach is constantly churning. I won’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I see flames. Flames with faces I recognise.

Day turns into night.

I can’t stop shaking. I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again. I’m swimming in misery and I don’t want to get out of the water. I want it to dissolve me, pull me under and keep me there. I imagine I’m in the water, swimming out beyond the jetty, where the lake-weed grows. I swim and I swim, but I go nowhere.

Night turns into day.

Sounds.

Silence.

Light.

Darkness.

I don’t know how long it’s been since the fire. It could’ve been yesterday or weeks ago. Time has unhinged again, the numbers mean nothing. Doctor’s appointments. Pills, washed down with water. Lots of talking at me. I don’t care anymore. No one understands. James and Kieran were real, now they’re gone. Everything’s gone. I said goodbye to them. I forced them out of my life before they wanted to go.

That’s what the fire was, that’s what it meant. That was the sign.

I took my candle to the lake with the boat, and I lit it. I pushed it out into the water and I said goodbye to them. I lit a candle for them, so they lit the cottage for me. An eye for an eye, a flame for a flame.

Day turns into night.

Luke curls up behind me on the bed, holding me close. I barely feel him. The fire plays through my mind on an endless loop, James’s face hovers in front of my eyes. I wish it would stop.

Night falls, the grey sucks all of the light out of the room and I’m glad. The darkness suits me better.

More pills, washed down with more water. Daylight, night-time, it’s all the same to me.

One night, I wake up from a nightmare that feels so real, I begin to wonder if I’ve finally tipped over the edge into madness. By the time I realise it was just a dream, the sun is up. I wish Luke would just hold me in his arms again and make it all go away, but he’s not here. I’m not angry at him anymore. I don’t hate him. I miss him. I need him.

In a daze, still going over the details of the nightmare and trying to make sense of it, I decide to have a shower. I’d prefer a bath, but there is no bath in Ana’s house.

Where’s Luke? He wasn’t there when I woke up, not in my bed, not on the floor. Geezer isn’t here, either. Maybe they went for a walk. My head feels so heavy, I can barely lift it. I sit in the shower, my head between my knees, as the water washes over me. I can’t remember the last time I had a shower, but I remember swimming with Luke.

Where’s Luke? I wish he’d make all of this go away. I wish he’d hold me and smooth my hair down and whisper words that would make sense. Nothing seems to make sense anymore. I just want to get out of here. I want to sit with him beside the fire, and stare at the embers with him. I want to lie beside him under the stars.

Dragging myself out of the shower, I towel off and put on some clothes I found at the end of my bed. They’re not mine, they’re Ana’s. Mine are gone. Everything is gone.

Where’s Luke?

After I get changed, I walk out into the living room to find Ana sitting with a cup of coffee at the small, round dining room table jammed into the corner of the room.

“Morning,” she says, trying to hide the surprise on her face. “Coffee?”

I nod, and she gets up to make me one without another word. I sink down into the couch, still bleary-eyed and feeling like I have one foot in this world and one foot somewhere else.

“Where’s Luke?” I ask.

She comes back into the room still holding her coffee mug, a strange look on her face.

“He left, babe.”

“When?”

“About two weeks ago,” she says quietly.

I stare at her. Why don’t I remember that? Two weeks? Two whole weeks?

“It’s okay,” she says, coming to sit down beside me on the couch. “It’s been a rough month, I know.”

“Month?”

“It’s been over a month since the fire.”

More memories gone. More time lost. I feel sick.

She puts her arm around me, pulling me close, and I want to cry but I can’t. No tears will come. Instead, I feel hollow. Luke’s not here. I don’t feel here, either. I want to be where he is. I need him.

“He wanted to stay, but you were so… he thought maybe leaving was a better idea. He was worried that he was part of the problem, that he was making things worse by being here, confusing you.”

I shook my head, feeling the same utter helplessness I felt that night, sitting with him on the jetty, watching my home burn to the ground.

“He’s been calling me every day since he left, checking up on you. He even left something for you, and he told me to give it to you when you were feeling better. I didn’t really think you were up to opening it before now, but you seem different today. Maybe it’s a good day to do this. Do you want me to get it?”

I can’t reply. I can barely take all this in. Two weeks. Two weeks? I do some quick calculations in my head. If it’s been a month since the fire, he stayed with me for two weeks after it. How could that be? It feels like minutes, hours at the most.

“Where have I been?” I say, almost to myself.

“Good question,” Ana says. “Here, but not here. It was like the accident all over again. Even Chris has been up to see you. Do you remember?”

I shake my head, my stomach churning. I don’t remember any of it and that’s what scares me the most.

“The insurance company paid out,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “The money’s in your bank account, when you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I don’t know. To start again, I suppose.”

I already know that starting again is not an option, not for me. I can’t. I physically can’t do it.

“Hang on,” she says, getting up and walking through to her bedroom.

All I can do is watch her. What happened to me? Weeks have gone by. Luke isn’t here. Chris has been and gone. Where was I, through all of that? I’m scared. The fear rears up like a waking serpent, the same fear I’ve been feeling for a long time now.