Chapter 25
25
ELENA
Elena stared at the ground, between her legs, shaking as she zoned back into the present, sitting on the steps leading to the Sacré Coeur, with Rory’s hand, warm and reassuring, in hers. It must have slid in whilst she was talking about her childhood.
‘You’re not ill, then,’ said Rory, his voice scratchy as if the words had left a mark.
Elena tilted her head. ‘Why would I be?’
‘Your attitude seemed to change… You becoming less careful… after that doctor’s appointment you had the day before we went to the pool. You didn’t mention what it was about – and why should you?’ he added.
‘Rory, it was for a cervical screening. I didn’t think you’d want to hear of its ins and out – literally.’ Through the dim light, they both managed a smile and Rory held her hand even more tightly. But Elena’s face soon became as dark as the Parisian sky again. ‘I never told anyone the truth about that night on the common. My parents would have been furious about me creeping out like that and talking to a stranger. Gayle would have got into trouble and… Mum and Dad would have also been so sad at the idea of th eir little girl making such a pact, whether… whether they believed it was true or not, because I did.’ She side-eyed Rory. Did he think her foolish, delusional? His face was impossible to read, like a plain book cover with no fancy font or illustration.
‘I found out more details in the following weeks that only confirmed everything that had happened,’ she said quickly. ‘Mum’s condition had deteriorated badly. And then, five minutes before midnight, she went into cardiac arrest and needed CPR. As the clock’s hand turned to twelve, the doctors were about to call an end to their efforts when Mum took a deep breath and came back – on her own, the staff said. Medical staff, Dad, Gayle, they talked about what happened as some miracle. Then Lucy’s gran winning the lottery and coming into big money, in accordance with what the fortune teller had mentioned, enforced my belief that the deal I’d made was real. As did Gayle going to the dentist – it turned out she had the early stages of oral cancer. It sounds stupid all these years later, but if you’d been there, Rory… People always told me I was a sensible girl. Down-to-earth. I kept my room tidy, almost too much so, my parents said – and I saved my pocket money apart from buying books. I didn’t just make up what happened and?—’
‘Whoa!’ Rory held up his free hand. ‘You don’t have to justify your story, Elena, not to me.’
‘I don’t?’ she croaked.
He shrugged as if it was obvious. ‘Of course not. Never. Nothing’s proved wrong until there is evidence against it.’
‘You don’t think I’m as crazy as Carl with his flat earth theory?’ she said in a barely audible voice.
‘No way. This is completely different and based on personal experience. I doubt Carl’s ever chartered a spaceship and seen the proof against his theory for himself. Whereas you were there that night, it’s not hearsay. This doesn’t mean I believe the outcome of what you said happened is set in stone.’
‘That… I’ll die?’
Rory hugged himself. It was cold. That must have been why he couldn’t reply straight off. ‘Yeah. I find it hard to accept that some stranger… some mystical power… would perform the good act of saving your mum, only to take a different life instead and take you onto – what did the fortune teller call it? The next stage of our world – as some punishment. And dark forces involved? I don’t know… There are lots of good, natural forces out there too, counteracting any bad.’
Elena leaned forwards.
‘If you nurture a plant, say – feed it, give it water – your kind act will be paid back with beautiful flowers. And Pilot fish keep sharks clean of parasites and in return, the shark wards off predators. I learnt that once, when I went snorkelling. All I mean is… I hear what you’re saying, I’d be bricking it too, but… Perhaps going onto “the next stage of our world” doesn’t mean death. Maybe the outcome of this deal isn’t what you’ve always thought. This fortune teller did make sure you got home safely, after all. If it was a life for a life, why not just take yours then and there? Why let you live until thirty?’
Elena had never thought about that.
‘All kinds of beneficial deals are made in nature. Like bacteria living in our guts. They help us digest food and we effectively feed them. It’s called mutualism and it helps our planet thrive.’ He looked sheepish. ‘Sorry. Going off on a tangent here…’
‘Is it like me letting you live in my home? You repay that by bringing in stick insects, eating my biscuits and relegating me to the kitchen when your elderly football buddy comes around?’
‘Exactly.’
Tentatively, they smiled at each other once more .
‘Am I being a dick again?’ he said. ‘I totally get why you’re so fucking worried. I’m just trying to give a different perspective. Not saying I’m right.’
Her body relaxed further as he pushed her arm playfully. Rory jerked his head towards the bottom of the steps. ‘All of this is why the fortune teller, at the underground station, freaked you out?’
‘She was wearing purple, like the woman I made a deal with.’
‘This promise you made also explains why, a few months ago, you started to take more care, putting bolts on your door and taping down the rug by the office entrance?’
Elena simply stared back.
‘Then what made you change and become so careless very recently? Like not listening to every bit of bungee jump guidance, or that date with?—’
‘Several reasons – one being you. The adventurous life you lead inspired me. Then there’s Brandy and Snap, who shed their skins… I felt tired of the Elena who’d been living her life in the shadows. I long for a sense of renewal. To be honest, Rory, what have I got to lose? You want proof of my looming death day? I’ve been sent clear signs that my promise is going to be called in: that firework nearly exploding in my chest, almost slipping on Gary’s coffee and cracking open my head, and that man diving on top of me in the pool… Three near misses in such a short space of time.’
‘Near misses or coincidences?’ he asked.
‘But three, Rory? That firework could have instantly killed me.’
Rory stood up and paced up and down as a mime artist started his act several steps away.
Elena got to her feet too. ‘You think I’ve lost it, right? It doesn’t bother me. I know what I know. ’
He stopped in front of her. ‘I get that there are things in this life that we can’t always explain. I still leave Mum’s favourite chocolate bar at her grave and I swear she’s there, laughing in the way Dad says she used to when he showed his disgust at her liking peanuts in nougat.’ His shoulders bobbed up and down. ‘We need to look at the facts. Find out more about them. I like my statistics, my figures. I deep dive with research. Let’s do that. Track down evidence. Go right back to that night in… 2004, right? Let’s speak to your old neighbour first. I for one would also like to track down this fortune teller. If she did make that deal with you, I’d let her know how deeply she’s affected your life.’ He coloured up.
‘Visit Gayle? Try to find out more?’ A fizz, ever so small, ever so tiny, built in Elena’s chest in reaction to his practical attitude, him taking her seriously. Was that fizz… hope?
‘Does she still live next door to your parents?’
‘Yes, Gayle’s in her seventies now. Widowed.’
‘Let’s go over and see her, Monday after we leave the office.’
That would work. Her parents would be in Manchester city centre. For months they’d been looking forward to a musical set in the eighties and had booked the matinee, to be followed by dinner. She didn’t want them asking questions.
‘In the meantime, let’s research fortune tellers,’ continued Rory. ‘In fact, I’ve come up with a good first step.’ He took out his phone and tapped away. Scrolled for several moments, reading, then showed Elena the screen. ‘Apparently purple is a common colour worn by psychics and fortune tellers. It’s supposed to represent calm and spiritual awareness. It might mean nothing that the woman we just saw wore purple too. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a sign linking the present with twenty years ago.’
Elena exhaled and handed back his phone. ‘You’re really up for doing this? We’ve not got long left, what with my birthday being two weeks today. December is such a busy time of year. You’ll want to shop for your dad and?—’
‘Hey, that’s plenty of time. You and I, we’re used to working late, to thinking out of the box and surfing the internet for relevant data.’
Elena looked up towards the Sacré Coeur, lost for a moment in its serenity, its understated grandeur. For over a hundred years it had stayed steadfast, despite the riots and wars; it had remained on this hill, peacefully overlooking the chaos.
Elena could do this.
They both sat down again. ‘Okay. Let’s enjoy tomorrow and then, Monday, get on with it. I trust in my heart that what ten-year-old me experienced was true, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fight for my future. I… I wouldn’t change a thing, though, you know? My life for twenty more years with Mum? I’d do it again in a heartbeat.’
They sat in silence for a while.
‘Sooo, I inspired you to be more careless – or perhaps adventurous is a better word,’ he said and gave her a smug look.
Elena groaned. ‘God, I’m never going to hear the end of this.’ The mime artist acted out being a marionette with broken strings, and she moved closer to Rory and bumped her arm against his. ‘I may be a broken biscuit, and I’ve fallen apart lately, but that’s okay. I’ll find my inner strength again by facing my fears and the past head on. Thanks for helping me do this.’
Rory got to his feet and went off to find a couple of takeaway coffees. Elena stared at the horizon before her, the man-made view, with its lit-up buildings, as beautiful as any sunset. She’d done it. Shared her secret. A weight lifted from her, like dense fog evaporating, water drop by water drop, taking with it the chill, leaving her bones and her heart to warm .
She turned round to watch Rory leave, coat collar up like an eighties band member. Elena smiled, but then she sat very still.
Huh?
Noooo…
Mum’s words came back to her, from the last Moussaka Monday evening. You’ll meet someone special and open up, and I think you’ll find that means you’re in love .
No, that would be ridiculous. Elena and Rory? They were like two completely mismatched biscuit ingredients, like chocolate and chilli. She’d never understood the appeal of that combination. Just because Elena had spoken her truth to Rory didn’t mean he was special to her – even though he’d brought a sense of stability into her home these last few weeks, with his cooking, his singing, simply with his presence. Elena had seen him through different eyes. His love for sharing facts represented a passion for knowledge; it actually wasn’t boasting or mansplaining, and he’d shown a vulnerability around losing a parent… When she was with him, Elena enjoyed a sense of calm and trust she’d not experienced with anyone since leaving home; not really enjoyed since she was ten. But she wasn’t in love with him. Imagine living the rest of your life with someone who wore your fancy dressing gown better than you; who treated condiments as if they – not the food – were the main attraction; who made you do a silly dance in the office, and sang the same song night after night, on repeat. And who liked pickles. Elena gave a giggle.
Christ.
She sounded about sixteen. Elena didn’t do giggles. Not unless she was drunk and listening to Gary sing karaoke. She sucked in her cheeks, trying to stop herself creating fantasies… of her fingers running through Rory’s wavy hair, then undoing one of his stylish belts, whilst looking into that caring face of his, that stared back with equal desire; of sensing that protective in stinct he had that had made him take in Brandy and Snap – and that had saved Elena’s life three times.
The horizon became blurry. Her throat ached.
Mum was right.
Elena had left it until two weeks before her death day to realise that the most precious gem of a man had been sitting in her office day in, day out.
Oh Rory.
Rory Bunker.
Her absolute nemesis at times!
The love thing that she really, really wanted had been in her life all along.
Yet it had been invisible to her, despite the brightly coloured clothes and extroverted dance.
A lump rose in her throat.
Elena sat, digesting the revelation.
She couldn’t say anything. He’d only cringe, especially now he knew her deepest secret. Privately he must think her a joke, and who would blame him? Their friendship was too precious to ruin. Telling him would tear their easy camaraderie apart. What if they didn’t make up in time, before her birthday? Elena wiped her eyes. It was enough that she’d finally recognised and felt true love. Utter gratitude filled her for that. This true love had been skulking in the shadows this last year, waiting, watching for the moment it could boldly walk into the sunlight. Rory moving in, Elena’s three accidents, her changing attitude to safety and confiding in him about the fortune teller… it had taken these huge events to make her face how she felt.
Yet, deep down, she’d known , Elena could see that now. She’d been the one to suggest Rory have the desk opposite hers, and there was that time she’d made a paper plane and aimed it at his head. They couldn’t agree over the pitch for a product and were both doing more research. A playful gesture she’d never made to anyone before. And Rory had lost a dear relative at the beginning of the summer. The upset he tried to hide in the office had completely affected her focus and… it had hurt. Then there was the karaoke. Gary had been on at her for ages to arrange it, but she’d balked at getting up on stage. However, once he’d paired her and Rory together, for some reason those nerves lessened.
A cough behind her. Rory sat down. He passed her a takeout cup.
‘You talked about being a broken biscuit,’ he said. ‘Tell me, are you one of our employer’s vanilla sandwich fingers, or a chocolate-covered oatie one?’ The corner of his mouth twitched and a deep yearning rose inside her, wild and unharnessed, to kiss those lips.
Instead, with an innocent air, she flipped the finger at him as her answer and privately adored his soft laugh whilst she sipped her coffee.