Soul Fire (12 page)

I wonder, does
she
know that soon she might have one less customer to serve? Maybe everyone knows, and the joke’s on me.

‘To sunset,’ says Gretchen, holding up her cocktail glass for a toast.

‘Except it’s a tequila sun
rise,
’ Javier points out.

She laughs. ‘OK, then. To . . . endless horizons.’

When we do clink glasses, it triggers a sunrise, as blood-red grenadine at the bottom of the cocktail spreads upwards, like scarlet mist.

Gretchen takes the first sip. ‘It tastes of sunshine.’

Javier sips his. ‘But not of alcohol. Sam is giving short measures again.’

‘You’re just used to Barcelona measures, Javier,’ Gretchen says.

He smiles. ‘Maybe. I had connections, it’s true. I always got the best service, the catch of the day, the cutest waiters . . .’

I gaze out at the shore. The apricot glow has gone from the sky now. It’s cherry red, deeper than any sky I’ve seen in real life. But then again, I’ve never been further than
Greece. Perhaps in Thailand or India or the South Pacific, sunsets are this fiery.

Is the Beach modelled on a real place? Perhaps each wave and each grain of sand has a twin on earth.

‘Alice?’

‘Sorry, Gretchen, I was miles away.’

‘I was saying that on nights like tonight, the thought of being here for eternity seems less frightening,’ Gretchen says. ‘Hearing my little song thrushes preparing for bed.
Watching something so magnificent, with my friends.’

‘Lately Gretchen has been hearing things,’ Javier says, laughing.

‘What things?’ I ask. Any change on the Beach interests me.

‘It sounds ridiculous, maybe, but yesterday I heard something familiar that I had never heard
here
before: birdsong.’

Javier shakes his head. ‘Catch up, Gretchen. We’ve had birds here ever since Alice helped Triti get away. It was one of her
extra special gifts
to us.’

‘Not those screeching gulls, Javier. Beautiful melodies. The birds who sing best are drab little things. I used to go to the park, on my way home from school. It was where they took me
– the kidnappers. But that sound kept me going. It was the last lovely thing I ever heard.’

‘I can’t hear anything,’ Javier says.

‘Because you don’t listen,’ Gretchen tells him, but not unkindly.

Javier raises his eyebrows at me, but I look away. The way they tease each other, it’s like they’re brother and sister. Perhaps she reminds him of his little sisters in Spain.

‘Maybe I
am
imagining the birds,’ Gretchen says. ‘But here I am grateful for the littlest things. They might help me understand what my death is supposed to
mean.’

Javier groans. ‘As though any of our deaths actually
mean
anything.’

I look at him. Should I warn them somehow, so they have the chance to say goodbye, to tell each other how they feel? After Triti escaped, Javier was almost destroyed by the knowledge that
he’d never had the chance to tell her how much she meant to him.

I’m trying to find the words to warn them, when Sam reappears with a platter of tropical fruits. Pale pink watermelon polka-dotted with black seeds, thin slices of pineapple leaking juice
onto the plate, perfect strawberries sliced in two so that each half resembles a love heart.

As she puts them down on the plate, she says, ‘Compliments of the management, because we don’t often get a night this gorgeous, do we?’ and then whispers directly into my ear,
‘Don’t even think about it, Alice. She might try to fight it. Let her go.’

‘You OK, Alice?’ Gretchen says. ‘Only you look like you’ve seen a . . .’ she doesn’t finish the sentence.

‘She’s annoyed she can’t have any of our fruit,’ Javier says. ‘Hey, Alice, maybe if you set another Guest free, you’ll progress to the next level and be able
to drink and eat with us too.’

I could repeat what he said to me:
there are always consequences
. But I just smile back. ‘Actually, I
am
thirsty, guys. Need to get myself a real drink in, you know, in real
life.’

‘You’ll miss the last minutes of the sunset,’ Gretchen says.

‘Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back in two seconds.’

I tiptoe to the fridge. Here in London it’s one in the morning, and through Lewis’s kitchen window the pitch black sky is already full of stars.

This is going to break Javier’s heart. And even though I’m not responsible, even though I would never have dreamed of helping Gretchen without talking to him first, I feel this all
started with me. If I hadn’t helped Triti, had never meddled in things I don’t understand, then Javier would be just fine.

But what can I do now? Except see the end of what I started. Try to support Javier if Gretchen
does
go. Or even . . . help him escape too?

At first, the idea shocks me. Javier is so much a part of the Beach that the idea of this place without him seems as crazy as no sea, no sand, no sky.

I’ve always believed him when he says he loves his afterlife, but what if that’s not true anymore?

Perhaps it’s almost time to offer him the choice. But not quite. For now I must be normal – and I must be there for him.

I take a Diet Coke from the shelf, and return to the computer.

‘OK, you guys. What have I missed?’

My mouth is gritty, as though I’ve fallen face first into the sand.

I can hear weeping.
What’s going on?

Now I remember. I’m staying up with Gretchen, so I can be with Javier if she leaves. But a stark blue light hits my face. I look up.

I’m still at Lewis’s flat, and the light is coming from the outside world. I fell asleep. How
could
I?

Though maybe I’m OK. Maybe dawn hasn’t broken on the Beach yet.

I blink hard. My neck is stiff because my head has been hanging down over the desk. I can taste the metallic tang of Coke. I blink again. Soul Beach is still on the screen in front of me. The
palest pink sky is reflected in a silk-smooth sea.

There’s a louder cry, like an animal caught in a trap. I see a man crouched on the sand with his back to me.

‘Javier?’

‘Go away.’

‘What is it?’

‘Leave me alone. You
knew
, didn’t you, Alice? You
knew
.’

I stare at the screen. At some point during the night – I don’t remember when – we must all have moved onto a blanket right by the water’s edge. I am on one side,
he’s on the other, facing away from me, his legs hugged to his chest. In the middle there’s an indentation in the sand, covered in crimson fabric.

I know, then, for sure: Gretchen has gone.

I touch his shoulder, but he rolls away onto the sand.

‘Don’t you dare deny it. You knew she was leaving, didn’t you, Alice?’

‘Yes.’

‘Bitch.’

I reel backwards. It stings more than a slap. ‘Javier. It’s what she wanted.’

‘How was she supposed to know what she wanted? Guests get so obsessed with escaping the Beach that they never consider that what comes after could be
worse
. Loyalty means nothing,
friendship
means nothing.’

His shoulders tremble.

‘Gretchen deserved justice.’

He sits up. His face is twisted in what looks like hate. ‘You helped her.’

‘No.’

‘You did. You think you’re some saint. Some
God
.’

‘I had nothing to do with it. I promise. My priority is Meggie.’

‘Stop lying, Alice.’

‘I swear. I know how much Gretchen means to you. I would never have made changes without the consent of both of you.’

He shakes his head. ‘What is it about me? I get close to someone, they leave the Beach. Cursed in real life, now cursed here too. I must have done bad things, huh?’

‘Javier, I’m certain Gretchen didn’t want to leave you. But perhaps there was no alternative. You know . . . what she suffered. The people who did that had to pay, didn’t
they?’

And that’s when his face crumples. I reach out to him but he still backs off, the tears soaking his t-shirt.

‘Will you be OK?’ I ask.

He squeezes his eyes shut. ‘I have no choice. Do I?’

The few wispy clouds in the sky are disappearing, promising another beautiful day. Sometimes I think the powers-that-be should arrange the odd grey, drizzly day, just to remind Guests why
sunshine is so special.

‘You
could
have a choice.’

He says nothing.

‘I could try to help you.’ I don’t look at him, because he might hate me even for suggesting it. ‘Of course, you could stay here. The Beach is a good place. But the
option is there, for me to . . . look into what happened to you.’

Our eyes meet. His are defiant. ‘I know exactly what happened to me, Alice. There is no mystery, no detective work to be done.’

I nod. ‘But if you know . . .’ I stop, but the question
then why are you here?
seems to hang in the air.

Eventually, Javier says quietly, ‘Maybe I am curious about why I came here when my death was so . . . simple. Perhaps I’m curious about what happened to those I left
behind.’

Then I remember last night.
Barcelona
. Sahara and Ade are going to Barcelona, where Javier came from. ‘I could help, Javier. You only have to say the word. I owe you
that.’

This time I
do
look into his eyes. They’re red, from crying, but I’m sure I see hope there, momentarily. Then he frowns.

‘There are many others here more deserving of the help you gave Gretchen.’ He nods towards the huts. Guests are emerging from them, shading their eyes as they take in another bright
morning.

How long before they notice that Gretchen has gone, and start jumping to the wrong conclusions too?

‘It honestly wasn’t me who set her free.’

‘So you say. Yet forces like these are unpredictable, surely? Nothing comes without
consequences
,’ he says. That word again.

‘I would help you first, Javier. But you have to tell me what you want.’

He laughs. ‘I am a human, Alice. Or at least I was. So what I want, inevitably, is what I cannot have.’

In the distance, I see my sister leaving a bamboo hut and blinking in the morning light.

‘You don’t have to be lonely, Javier. Meggie’s still here. And Danny.’

‘I am merely a way of passing the time when they can’t be with the ones they love. Danny prefers you. And now Tim is here, Meggie has no need of others. She can be happy twenty-four
seven.’

I look again. Tim has emerged from the hut, too. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smiling on the Beach. His face is transformed. ‘Maybe love isn’t a bad way to pass the
time, Javier.’

Javier smiles. ‘I was in love, before, thank you. Second time round would be second rate.’

A seagull scythes through the sky, towards the horizon, before it disappears.

‘Javier, did you see Gretchen go?’

He shakes his head. ‘If I had known what was about to happen, I would have tried to stay awake. You could have told me.’

‘Maybe,’ I say, though I know I wouldn’t have dared risk the wrath of Sam and the Management. ‘But it’s a Guest’s decision. A Guest’s fate. Not
mine.’

Again, I see the implications of what I’ve said sinking in. He sighs. ‘Gretchen’s escape has left me . . . what is the right word?’ He holds out his hands. ‘Empty.
Perhaps it may be best for me to seek a way out, but I cannot rush my decision. It’s a once-in-a-death-time opportunity, after all.’

I smile. Sarcasm from Javier is a good sign. I sense that he’s on the point of saying yes to my help. ‘You must know what you want, deep down?’

‘I know I do not want to feel like
this
forever.’

‘Is that a yes?’

He frowns. ‘What of you, little Alice? What becomes of you when you’ve spent a lifetime helping the lost souls here? Because they’ll keep on coming, won’t they? As many
tragedies as there are grains of sand on this beach.’

I shiver. It hasn’t occurred to me before that
their
eternity could be
my
eternity, too. As long as Meggie’s on the Beach, I will be too. But if I never find her
killer, is this forever for both of us?

‘Meggie comes first,’ I say, trying to make it sound simple. ‘Only after she has justice can I think about what happens next.’

Javier blows me a kiss – I think it’s his way of apologising for calling me a bitch – then drifts away to the far end of the Beach, where he can be
almost
alone with his thoughts.

I’m on my own, too. I should log off now, in case Lewis catches me. Though there are no sounds of movement in the flat. Nothing but the whirr of computer fans.

The world goes black.

I struggle as unseen hands cover my face.

‘No!’

‘Guess who?’

‘Danny!’ I stop struggling, but my heart is pounding. ‘You scared me.’

His grip relaxes, and he turns me gently. ‘I’m sorry. Let me make it better.’

Our Hollywood kiss goes on for ages. He stops now and then, whispering my name above the gentle shushing sound of the waves.

When our lips are so numb that we have to break apart, Danny frowns. ‘You’re not getting tired of me, Alice? I know you came last night, but you never even looked for me. And
you’re not here as often as you were.’

‘Just, you know, life getting in the way.’

He flinches, and I hate myself for using the L word. The other L word – Love – is easy to say and easy to get on the Beach. But Life is out of his reach.

‘I’m sorry, Alice. I don’t want to make you feel bad. What matters is that you’re here now.’ He takes my hand. We walk towards a new hammock that’s been
strung up between two palms so slender they don’t look like they’ll hold my weight.

‘I’m not getting up
there
. I’ll break the rope. Or the trunks.’

Danny laughs. ‘I wonder what you look like in the real world, because I promise you that right here on the Beach, your figure is adorable, and represents zero threat to the health of the
trees. Come on. It’s super-cosy.’

His hands grip my waist, and he lifts me up as though I really do weigh no more than a skinny supermodel. I allow myself to fall against the warm cotton of the hammock. It smells of coconuts and
the sea.