Soul Fire (22 page)

Like now.

‘I could see he was getting angrier. I felt almost excited, but also a little afraid of the craziness in his eyes. I walked away, out onto the terrace, to give him time to calm down. It
was a good night to argue. Parties would drown out our voices.

‘Except he followed me out before he cooled off. Called me the usual names but with some hatred. You can guess. I never came out as gay to my mother or my father, but I think they knew.
For him it was as though I was gay only to shame him.

‘I argued back. For the first time ever, I pushed him away when he went to strike me.’

‘And that’s when you fell?’

He doesn’t seem to have heard me. ‘You should have seen his face, Alice. The idea that I might resist, it had never occurred to him. For a moment, I felt ecstatic. But then . . .
then he came back at me. I was taller than him. Broader. And, of course, alcohol had made him old for his age. But I wasn’t expecting it . . .’

‘And?’

‘And. Well, you can guess. But what maybe you can’t guess is that as I toppled, I almost felt I had won. No pain. Just . . . the knowledge that he couldn’t ever harm me again.
After I got to the Beach, I rationalised it – that it was better for Mama and the girls to believe it was an accident. Maybe my father would have learned his lesson by killing me. But now . .
. Alice, what if my sisters think the same as Gabe – that I left them on purpose?’

‘Javier—’

Sweat forms on the back of my neck; someone is behind me. I turn slowly, half expecting to see Sahara or even Zoe.

But it’s just the guy who runs the shop. ‘Problem?’

We both look at the screen now. ‘No. I’m just waiting for the page to load.’

The man gives me a strange look, then says, ‘Now you pay one hour and half,’ and goes back to the front of the store. He’s soldering something, without gloves. That’s
where the scars must come from.

‘Are you there, Alice?’ Javier asks. ‘I thought I heard something else.’

‘It’s nothing. Someone else in the internet place, that’s all.’

‘Ah. It sounded like . . . fireworks.’

I can’t hear anything in here except the hum of the computer and the monitors. ‘Javier. I might have to go soon, but I want to say that I understand now – why you’ve
always said you prefer the Beach to your old life.’

He sniffs. ‘That was before I realised that being on the Beach did not mean I would be free of the pain of losing people.’

‘You still want to leave, Javier? You still want me to help you?’

‘What I want . . . What I want most is to know if they are all right. My family. Whether I escape or not, now, seems irrelevant to me. Peace, or heaven, or whatever you want to call it. I
want that for the living. We dead do not count.’

‘That’s not true, Javier, you deserve—’

He interrupts me. ‘Alice. If you want to help
me
, help them.’

‘Of course. But how?’

‘It depends on whether he is still there. How long are you in the city?’

‘Only till tomorrow evening.’ I realise this means nothing to him. ‘Another day and a half. Plus the night, of course. It’s not long, but I’ll do whatever I
can.’

‘I suppose it must start with finding out if they are happy. Although . . . I am not sure I can bear it if they are not.’

‘Maybe I should only tell you if it is good news,’ I suggest. ‘If not, then I will pretend they were not at home.’ Even though it’ll be another terrible secret I
will end up having to keep forever.

‘But if the news is bad there may still be a way for us to change things, Alice. Or for
you
to change things.’

Sometimes it’s terrifying, the trust the Guests have in me. And why? Just because I’m alive doesn’t mean I’m all powerful. Yet, what else can I do but say yes? ‘You
know this could mean . . . things change for you, too?’ I warn Javier gently.

Javier laughs softly. ‘Life is change, Alice. So is death. Do you have a pen?’

I write down the address where he lived; he has to spell it for me. ‘It means Happy Town Street, if you can believe that,’ he says. ‘If you are near the main beach, then you
are also near my home. Rosa looks the most like me, you might see her playing in the street. I taught her football – how to kick, in case she had to. Maybe now she’s different, though
– into dresses and boys. Maybe now she’s . . . safe.’

‘And if I see your father?’

He laughs but it sounds so hollow. ‘Oh, Alice. I hope you will not. Because if you do, I fear there is nothing left to be done.’

‘Even though I know what he is? What he did?’

‘I trust you to know when to leave things alone. Remember what happened when I tried to make things better. I will not have you endanger yourself, too, Alice. The last thing I want is
another waste of a life.’

When I get outside again, the bright sunshine hurts my eyes and makes me dizzy.

No text from Lewis about Burning Truths, but Cara’s messaged me:
MATE! Where we meeting for lunch? Come to the park. It’s huge! There’s beer! & sexy
dangers! Besos – means kisses in Spanish. The guy told me lst nite. Guess how I found out, ha ha. Miss you, hon, xxx

Sexy dangers?
Perhaps she means dancers, though knowing Cara it could easily be either.

I smile. After the intensity of the conversation with Javier, a chilled-out lunch with my best friend is
exactly
what I need. I’m not a machine: an hour or two lying in the sun,
chatting about nothing, will help clear my head.

Of course, I’m still going to keep my promise to Javier and go to see where he lived, but going straight away seems a bad idea. Look what happened when I rushed headlong into talking to
Gabe. It’s better to plan properly before I get my second – and probably my last – chance to help Javier find peace.

I follow the tourist map towards the park, though the crowds slow me down. On the main street, waiters try to ambush me with their seafood menus. Families tackle ice-cream cones heaped high with
pastel scoops. It reminds me a bit of days out with Mum and Meggie in Brighton. One summer, when it had rained non-stop from May till July, she pulled us out of school the first time the sun shone.
We tried to build castles with pebbles and we went on the rollercoaster and then ate so many chips we could hardly climb the hill for the train home.

Despite everything that’s happened, Meggie and I were lucky, weren’t we? Compared to Javier and
his
sisters, we had the perfect childhood.

It takes me half an hour to get to the park gates. Statues stand guard at the entrance: the male one has a body to rival the best on Soul Beach. But I realise it’s not going to be easy to
find Cara; the park is almost as busy as Barcelona beach. Everywhere I look, people are
doing
stuff: juggling, jogging, tightrope walking.

I set off anti-clockwise round the edge of the park, getting my bearings. Everywhere I look there’s a fairy-tale building: a bright pink clock tower, a gothic castle with turrets, an
enormous wooden greenhouse. There’s a boating lake and a life-size sculpture of a mammoth with tourists posing for photographs underneath. There are dogs and babies and couples walking hand
in hand.

Latin music is playing somewhere, so I follow the rhythm. In the distance I can see an ornate bandstand mounted on white marble. I catch glimpses of couples dancing.

Sexy dancers
, I suppose. Which must mean Cara’s around here somewhere.

The sun is shining through the fancy ironwork, which makes the dancers seem like silhouettes. The music and their movements seem to suit this city perfectly: passionate, energetic, but just a
little bit edgy.

I wish I could dance like that. Meggie could, of course. One week she’d convince millions of viewers that she was the wildest Carmen ever, full of Latin passion. Then the next she’d
be all in white, making even the most determined atheists believe in God with her
Amazing Grace
. She was almost as good an actress as she was a singer. But was she acting with us, too
– pretending everything was OK when all the time she had a stalker or someone threatening her?

The music changes to something slower paced. I walk towards the bandstand, where spectators are clapping and calling out to the dancers. I’ve only ever seen dancing like this on
Strictly
. There’s something different about watching it live. I guess some of these are real-life couples, so they’re putting their love and passion into every movement.

Oh, God! No.

Cara and Ade.
Dancing
.

His arm is tightly wrapped around her waist, and hers is draped on his slim shoulder. I take a step back but I needn’t have bothered. They’re so busy trying to get the moves right
that they don’t notice anything except each other. They’re giggling as they get it wrong, while the other couples on the bandstand weave around them.

As Cara and Ade keep repeating the same moves, I try to convince myself that they’re just messing about, being tourists. Except they look so right together, far more right than Ade ever
looks with Sahara.

The music builds to a crescendo and Cara leans back from her waist, her leg raised against his body, and her hair hanging down like a sheet of white silk.

The music stops. They stay like that. I look away, because it feels like I shouldn’t be watching. Even when the other dancers stop for a drink, they’re like statues in the middle of
all that movement.

Finally Ade pulls her back upright and I wait for them to get the giggles.

They kiss.

Oh, no. Tell me this isn’t happening. Not here . . .

They don’t stop. Not for bloody ages. Finally, the music starts up again, and it breaks the spell. They stare at each other.

I’m pretty certain I’ve just witnessed their very first kiss.
What have they done?
Anyone could have seen them.

I have to get out of here, before they see
me
. A line of tourists on orange bikes pass in front of me, and I use them as cover to get away. There’s a multi-tiered fountain, topped
by two gilded horse statues that blaze in the afternoon sunlight. I run past it, then round to the right, towards the boating lake.

‘Sorry!’ I say, as I barge into someone. ‘
Lo siento
.’

‘Alice?’

The someone is Sahara. She’s holding onto my arms. Her face is bright red, and her underarms are ringed with sweat.

‘Are you OK, Sahara? You look really . . .’
Desperate!
I think, but I don’t finish my sentence.

‘I’m fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ Her pupils are huge, even though the sun is shining brightly. She could be on drugs. Might she have seen Ade and Cara, like I did?

‘It’s the heat. It doesn’t agree with me. I’ve been walking and walking and now I’m dehydrated.’

‘We could get some water, there’s a kiosk . . .’ Then I realise I can’t take her to that kiosk as it’s too close to the bandstand. ‘Or maybe you should go
back to the hostel.’

‘That’s what I’m trying to do,’ she snaps. ‘Have you seen the streets? The crowds are doing my head in, and they’re putting up crash barriers already. There
are ambulances parked all the way up the main road. It’s worrying, Alice, don’t you think?’

‘I’m sure it’s safe, Sahara. They wouldn’t let it happen otherwise.’

She looks dubious. ‘People are different here. Wilder. Unpredictable
.’

‘The Spanish?’

‘Yes, but not just them. Us, too. Maybe we’re all different when we’re away from home. All at risk.’

I stare at her. ‘Look. We’ll be fine if we stick together. I mean, I know Zoe’s been going on about keeping safe, but she’s been before and she survived just
fine.’

Sahara sighs. ‘I suppose so.’

‘Do you want me to come with you, back to the hostel?’ At least that way I can make sure she doesn’t go anywhere near the bandstand. Though I also need to stay focused on what
I’ve promised to do for Javier.

She shakes her head. ‘No. I’m not going to ruin your day, too.’

I try not to look too relieved. ‘If you’re sure . . . I think the exit’s the way you just came, Sahara.’ I point away from the bandstand. ‘Here, borrow my
map.’

She takes it from me. ‘Thanks, Alice. I probably do need it. I feel like I’ve been wandering around this park for hours without getting anywhere. ’

Did she spot her boyfriend dancing with Cara while she was getting herself lost? I dismiss the idea. Sahara can’t seem to keep anything to herself, so I’m sure she’d have told
me if she had.

I sit on a bench for a few minutes till she’s disappeared into the crowd. There’s a guy on the bank opposite me, juggling with flaming torches. Every time he drops one, he smiles. A
ring of scorched grass surrounds him.

Everyone wants to play with fire. Cara and Ade kissing in public, Lewis chasing hackers, even Zoe, if we’re right and it
is
her who set up Burning Truths to try to get justice for
Tim.

And I’m no different. Trying to solve Meggie’s murder, offering to see Javier’s family, even though I could make things worse, not better.

But the alternative is to feel nothing, do nothing. And my sister’s death has made me realise what a waste that would be.

I text Cara:
Came looking for u. Found u! U seemed a bit busy for lunch so thought I’d leave u to it. . . also, just bumped into S!!! Sent her in opposite direction.
C u at the hostel later, xxx

She texts back almost immediately with a smiley face and a long row of kisses.

Time to look for Javier’s old address. I leave the park and head back towards the fishing district, trying to remember the way without my map. Sahara was right about one thing – the
chatter and buzz on the streets is getting louder. Javier said his fight with his father was drowned out on fiesta night and I guess tonight will be the same. There are signs posted everywhere, on
walls and lampposts, in Spanish or maybe Catalan. The only word I recognise is
Correfoc
. The fire run.

The sea’s ahead of me now, in the distance, so I take a left into the dark streets of Javier’s neighbourhood. There are fewer tourists now. The deeper I get into this maze, the
quieter it gets. I guess if I can’t find the address, then I can always get a new map from the hostel, but I think if I’m methodical about it, and work my way up and down the gridlines
that make up the streets, I should be OK.