Only Ever Yours (28 page)

“isabel and I have always had a very, er, special relationship.” He rubs His hands together, the metal rings scraping against each other. I meet megan’s eyes across the stage and I see in them the same realization that is dawning on me. All year isabel left a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow, but we were blind to them. And it’s too late now. It’s too late. “I suspected from the moment of her design she would become My companion when she came into her prime, but I made My final decision known to her before your School break last year.”

So that’s why she has been distancing herself from me all year. She knew I wasn’t good enough to socialize with the Father’s future companion, and that I never would be good enough. But she still saved me in the end. I failed, once again, and she had to step in and fix my mess.
I should feel grateful to her
.

“When will my new bride be joining me?” The Father twists around to face chastity-ruth.

“She’ll be ready for you the day after tomorrow, Father,” she says, approaching the throne timidly. “I didn’t feel it
would be appropriate for her to share a train with the ordinary companions.” I see megan flinch at the word “ordinary.”

“Quite right,” the Father says, jumping down from the throne. The cloak is too long for Him, trailing on the floor. “She must be treated with due respect. Anyway, I’ve waited seventeen years for her. What’s another few days?”

megan’s face is colorless against the ivory robe. She takes a step back, crunching gisele’s toes under her heels, ignoring her cry of pain.

“anne and mary, take care of them,” chastity-ruth orders as the Father walks toward the marble steps and she dashes to catch up with Him. The other chastities follow her. None of them says goodbye or wishes us good luck, not even chastity-magdalena.

“What now?” the twins ask as the Hall doors slam behind the Father and the chastities. “megs? What happens now?”

“I don’t know,” megan snaps. “Why do you two always expect me to know the answer to everything?”

“Now, now. Less of that, please,” chastity-mary says, beaming. “I want the concubines and the companions to follow me. I will escort you to the trains where you will be transferred to the main Euro-Zone.”

“In different carriages, I hope,” megan mutters. She picks at her nails, the mint-green nail polish flaking off and drifting onto her cloak. Her triumph has been spectacularly short-lived.

“The concubines will go to their new lodgings,” chastity-mary continues. “And the companions will be presented to their respective husbands.”

“Whose Inheritant am I again?” liz whispers to jessie. “Leonardo’s?”

“I think I’m his. Aren’t you William’s?”

“That’s enough,” chastity-anne interrupts. “You’re not getting any younger. Please form two separate lines and follow chastity-mary.”

megan goes first on the right-hand side, rosie on the left. All the others divide effortlessly into their new formation. They march down the steps, through the Hall and out the doors. They do not look back.

And then they are gone.

“Another year over,” chastity-anne says to agyness and me. “Done and dusted.”

How can this be the end of School? How can this be the great Ceremony that we have spent all these years preparing for? After everything, after all our worrying and waiting, all today amounted to was a tedious roll-call of names. I feel hollow with anticlimax, an emptiness mushrooming inside me.

I look at agyness, and my disillusionment is echoed on her ordinarily cheerful face. She turns to look over her shoulder at the Hall entrance as if she’s hoping one of the eves will reappear and say it was all a joke.

chastity-anne sighs. “It’s always the same, every year. I’m not sure what you girls were expecting.”

More than this, I think. A lot more.

“You’ll get used to it. I promise.”

agyness and I still don’t move, and her voice becomes stern. “That’s enough, chastities. Follow me. It is time for your training to begin.”

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I give myself up for the good of the Euro-Zone. I give myself up for the good of the Father. I give myself up for the good of my fellow chastities. I give myself up for the good of the School.

What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up. What little I am, I give myself up.

I can’t sleep. I am finding it difficult to adjust to the eerie quiet of the chastities’ quarters, any sleepy sighs muffled behind the closed doors of our individual rooms. Here there are neither the nighttime Messages to distract me nor any SleepSound to push me into dreaming. chastities are not allowed to waste the School’s medication supplies, chastity-ruth told me.

ruth. I keep forgetting that I must call her ruth now.

Day one, day two, day three, day four.

How many days are there in a lifetime?

I’ve been assigned a room, a concrete square with a large oak door on one side. There is a single mattress dressed in black bed sheets, a wooden chest of drawers, painted black, and a matching rocking chair at the foot of the bed. A strip of wood is nailed into the wall opposite, seven identical black cloaks hanging from seven brass
hooks, seven pairs of rubber-soled shoes lined up neatly beneath. There is a sink in the corner of the room, a narrow concrete ledge above it holding a plastic jug and a rotting rag with which to wash myself. The only light comes from a thick white candle enclosed in a glass lantern hanging from the ceiling. There are no mirrors here and I am glad of that. I do not want to see how depreciated I have become in a mere matter of days.

I am lying on my stomach on the bed, my ePad propped up on the pillow as I scan through hundreds of fotos of the new megan Goldsmith. The restrictions on School to Zone internet access have been lifted now that I am a chastity, and although I know I shouldn’t look, I can’t help myself. I have been staring at one foto for at least an hour. It is from their wedding. In it, he is slipping his ring onto her finger. I search his face for a hint of regret, of wistfulness. I find none.

There are other fotos too, of cara and the twins and daria and the rest of them, their faces radiant as they are given away to their husbands by the Father. Do any of them ever think of me? It seems impossible that they could forget me in such a short time.

There is no mention of isabel on MyFace. I wanted to see fotos of her wedding dress. She was probably adorned in silk, pearl beading, real vintage lace, no expense spared; no plain ivory cloak for the bride of the Father. But her home page has been shut down. I suppose it would be unseemly for someone in her position to be so easily contactable. I should shut my page down too. I doubt isabel would want to get in touch with someone like me, not now
anyway. And who else would be interested in the details of the chastity training program? Today they shaved my head. Today they ripped my useless womb out and I am empty, so empty.

As a chastity, I must sacrifice
.

“felicity.”

I am chastity-felicity now. They have even taken my name from me.

“Why is your door open, felicity?” chastity-ruth says, pulling her black bathrobe firmly around her waist.

I turn my ePad over so she can’t see what I’ve been looking at and sit up straight, using the pillow to protect my back against the cold concrete wall.

“I said, why is your door open?”

“Sorry, ruth.” My voice is hoarse from lack of use. “I always sleep with the door open.”

I feel trapped otherwise.

“Yes. Lots of changes,” she says, and sits on the wooden rocking chair at the end of my bed. She runs her hands along the armrests, clucking as she rubs dust between her fingertips.

“How is agyness?” I ask. Because my role is as a nonteaching chastity, her training takes place separately to mine.

“agyness?” She frowns at me. “I assume you are referring to chastity-agatha. You saw her at dinner, did you not?”

agyness always sits at the other end of the table to me, her head turned away from me. Not that it matters. We chastities are forbidden to speak during mealtimes.

“It tends to take new chastities some time to become accustomed to our way of life. Not me though. I took to it like the proverbial duck to water.” Something in my face must have registered my surprise and she smiles slowly at me. “You’re not the only one who watches the Nature Channel.”

She leans back in the chair, never taking her eyes off me, and begins to rock back and forth, the sound of creaking wood filling the dead room.

“I knew you would be awake, #630.”

“SleepSound withdrawal.”

“I knew you would be awake,” she says again, as if I haven’t spoken. “And do you know why?” She peers at me across the dimly lit room. “Do you?”

“No, ruth.”

“Because I know
you
. I always have.” I wait, unsure of how I am supposed to react. “I know your exact eye color and the texture of your hair. I know what weight you are. Obviously, I know about your difficulty sleeping. I know you pretend to dislike chocco but secretly it’s your favorite food. I know how much you resented isabel at times and how hard you tried to hide it. I know you hate #767. And I know how prone to flights of fancy you are. I’ve been trying to crush it out of you for years, haven’t I?” I nod, as she seems to expect me to. “But even I was astonished at your conviction that Darwin Goldsmith could somehow save you from your fate. Foolish little girl. Did you believe he was going to choose
you
? Did you? It has been amusing watching you scurry about the place, all fret and bother, scrambling to improve your ratings, desperately trying to
cling onto Darwin. Honestly, #630, I’m sure he thought you were good for a bit of fun, but it’s unlikely he ever considered you companion material, my dear. Not you. He’ll probably find some . . .” she pauses, looking me up and down, “
exotic
companion to quench any physical urges. Maybe, from time to time, he’ll even close his eyes and pretend it’s some girl he used to know, some girl whose name he can’t quite remember.” I force my face to remain very still. “No, Judge Goldsmith made the right decision with #767. She will follow the rules. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, chastity-ruth,” I say on reflex, and her lip curls.

“You see, I knew you would agree. You really are utterly predictable. Always so eager to please other people, so willing to do whatever it takes to make people like you. It’s just so, so . . .” she stares at me as she searches for the word that best describes me—“
repellent
. That’s what you are. #767 never acted like that, did she? She didn’t snivel and beg for scraps of approval like you did. And look at her now—the companion of a Judge.” The chair keeps rocking back and forth, back and forth. I don’t understand. I thought we eves were supposed to be willing to please.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, you know,” she continues, gripping the armrests tightly. “I was made the principal chastity almost twenty years ago, the youngest principal in the history of the School. Twenty years, and every year a new batch of eves, countless girls, as you can imagine.” She half smiles. “Yet I still remember the day when you and your sisters were hatched. And that’s because of you, #630.”

“Me?” I repeat, my voice barely a whisper. I grab the black blanket on my bed and hug it close for warmth.

“Yes,” she says. “I walked from cot to cot, looking at each new-design in turn. And there you were, your face screwed up, making so much noise and commotion, drawing all that attention to yourself.” She shudders at the memory. “If my instincts were right, and they were
always
right, you were the runt of the litter, the one who wouldn’t withstand the race. There’s always one, every year, an eve that has a little ‘accident,’ then another, then too many accidents to ignore and the eve has to be taken Underground, to help the Engineers with their studies. Waste not, want not.” I swallow hard. “But not you, #630. Because isabel—wonderful, darling,
special
isabel—took a shine to you, didn’t she? And that changed everything. She loved you.”

“Really?” My voice is small, like a child’s.

“Why of course she did.” chastity-ruth says the words plainly and, hearing them, I know deep within my bones that she’s telling the truth.

“And with her love came her protection. It was all so
inappropriate
. I could hardly bear to look at you, as with each passing year you continued to undermine the natural order of things with your very existence. And then you broke the rules so flagrantly with Darwin. It really was deliciously stupid of you, #630.” Her lips tighten. “But, once again, isabel fought for you. It was she who pleaded with the Father to grant you immunity, and He agreed, provided isabel promised to maintain her target weight.
Judge Goldsmith was most displeased, but what could he do? The Father had spoken. My goodness, He did spoil isabel. There was always a present for his ‘special girl’ on her design date, lockets and jewelry boxes and other such nonsense.” She rolls her eyes to heaven. “He even gave her a pair of snakeskin boots in exchange for her maidenhood last year. As if He wasn’t taking something that didn’t belong to Him already.”

My stomach goes into free fall. “What are you talking about?”

“You didn’t know? And I thought you two were such good friends. The Father and isabel celebrated her design date together every year, of course, but on her sixteenth He took her for a ‘test drive,’ as it were.” She chuckles at her own wit.

“How . . . how . . . how do you know that?”

“Unfortunately, I had to clean her up afterward. He did make a bit of a mess.”

isabel never told me. She never told anyone.

“It has been a strange year, I must say,” she muses, folding her hands across her stomach. “If the Father hadn’t chosen isabel, she would have been the perfect companion for Darwin; he would never even have noticed you if isabel had been in her full health. It would have been more natural than some second-tier eve leapfrogging over more suitable girls. For a few weeks there I was almost concerned. Darwin kept choosing you; he seemed as blind to your many failings as isabel had been. But I told myself to trust my instincts and to wait. If I just waited, you would ruin it all
by yourself.” She starts to slow-clap. “And you did, #630. Spectacularly so. Well,
well
done.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” I say, feeling as if the question is being torn from my throat.

“Why?” She raises an eyebrow at me. “Hmm. Yes, I must admit you’re correct. I am talking more freely than I ordinarily would, even with a fellow chastity. It’s all irrelevant now though, isn’t it? You won’t be able to tell tales where you’re going.”

“Oh, did I not say?” She smiles at my confused expression. “I do apologize, #630. It has been hectic this evening, fone calls back and forth with the Euro-Zone, frantically trying to arrange a replacement. Quite selfish of isabel to leave the Father
hanging
, if you’ll excuse the pun.” She shrugs. “But she always was impetuous, that one. She clearly didn’t consider the possibility that your immunity could be revoked after her death.”

Her words seem to float between us, and somehow it’s as if all the air in the room has been completely sucked away, and I can’t breathe. My ribs feel as if they are withering in my chest, squeezing my lungs together, breaking my breath down into shallow gasps.

“Oh, silly me. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. But yes, isabel has decided to decline the honor of being the Father’s companion, rather permanently. Do you want to know how she did it? Do you, #630?” She waits expectantly for my answer, but the inside of my mouth is dry, painted in drought. “Fine,” she says. “I’ll give you a few hints. A bathrobe belt. A sturdy hook. An open door. You
get the picture. It puts me in mind of that ridiculous rhyme magdalena insists on teaching the eves to help you tie your shoelaces. What is it again? Come on, #630. I know you remember.”

“Here’s a little rabbit, and here’s a great big tree,” I say quietly, the words coming to me effortlessly. “Watch the little rabbit run around the tree. Out pops his head, to see what he can see. Look how neat a knot he made around his . . .”

I can’t finish.

“I wish these eves would choose a more aesthetically pleasing manner to bid us farewell. I keep asking the Father if we can change the door frames, but there never seems to be enough money to fund it,” chastity-ruth says. I turn my face away from her. “Oh dear. You’re not going to cry, are you, #630?”

Her gray eyes are flickering with excitement as she leans forward in her seat, coming closer and closer to me, as if she wants to lick the very first teardrop, taste its saltiness on her lips. I close my eyes.

isabel. isabel. isabel
.

I choose a memory of isabel and me as children and I hold it close to my heart, like a naked flame, waiting to feel it burn, but I feel nothing, numbness spreading through me like frostbite.

There are no tears in me. There is nothing left.

“Good girl,” she says, when I remain dry-eyed. “At least you learned how to do
one
thing right.”

She pushes herself out of the chair and glides past me until she reaches the doorway, beckoning for me to follow.

As a chastity, I must surrender
.

Time stretches out before me, the possibility of infinite hours with this grief gouging itself into my heart. How many hours are there in a lifetime?

“Come, #630. We haven’t got all day,” she says, and I nod mutely.

As a chastity, I must be obedient
.

I follow her out of the chastity quarters, past the garden gate and through the cloisters. She stays very close to me, but she need not be concerned. I will not try to run. Where could I go? Darwin does not want me. megan would build my pyre with her own hands. And isabel . . . my isabel, my isabel, my isabel, my isabel.

We have reached our old classroom. I avoid looking at the mirror-board.

“It’s time, #630,” chastity-ruth tells me, pointing at the glass coffin on the right-hand side of the chastity’s desk. She takes her eFone from the pocket of her bathrobe and presses a button, the box lighting up immediately.

“Time for what?” I ask, but I step in anyway. I don’t really care what will happen to me now. The doors close and we stare at one another through the panes of glass.

“Time for you to finally be of use,” she says as the elevator descends into the bowels of the earth, maintaining eye contact until she disappears behind a wall of steel.