Chapter 45 #2
The nearest man, Donald, shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong, miss. It’s only that we’ve just…well, we’ve had a strange experience.”
Eve looked past him towards the interior of the steam baths. The entrance hall appeared just as it always did, but the men all wore dazzled looks, as if something indescribable had taken place.
“There was music,” Donald went on. “It was…” He glanced back at the others, but they seemed at a loss as to how they should describe it. Donald shook his head. “I don’t know how to tell you what it was. It’s stopped now, but we couldn’t leave while it was playing because it was…it was…”
“It was the most beautiful music in the world,” one of the other men said. “The most beautiful music that’s ever been written or that ever will be written. That’s what it was.”
The others nodded.
“Honest to God, miss,” another soldier said. “I felt as if it washed my soul clean.”
The music box, Eve thought. It’s in there somewhere.
“Did you see where it came from?” she asked.
Donald shook his head. “No. But we were in the frigidarium when we heard it, and I’ll never forget it; never.” He glanced at the men beside him. “I actually feel…better. Like it might be all right. Once I get back home.”
The others nodded their agreement. “You should go in, miss,” one of the soldiers said. “In case it starts again.”
“I’ll just check that everything’s in order,” she replied.
The men traipsed off through the snow back towards the hotel and Eve stepped into the steam baths alone.
As soon as she entered the frigidarium, she was struck by the remarkable beauty of the place.
The only sound was the hiss of warm air through the pipes and the drip of water landing on the terrazzo floor somewhere nearby.
She went into the tepidarium and then on to the caldarium, the laconicum, and the pools.
She even checked the changing rooms, but the rows of wooden cubicles all stood empty, and the place was silent.
Finally, she returned to the welcome coolness of the frigidarium and was about to head towards the exit when she suddenly heard the music and couldn’t breathe.
It was the most beautiful music in the world.
There was no doubt whatsoever about that.
But “beautiful” wasn’t a big enough word; it was far more than that.
It was a candle shining brightly in the dark.
It was clean sheets and a comfortable mattress after sleeping on beds made from rabbit wire.
It was taking that first, wobbly step out of the darkness—a promise that life would be worth living.
It was the joy of being seen and understood after years of invisibility.
It was getting better, and being alive, and being happy again after heartbreak.
It was being loved completely for who you were, without conditions or expectations.
Eve felt tears in her eyes as she turned around, even though she never cried, never.
There on the step beneath the clock arch was a miniature grand piano.
It was small enough to fit in the palm of a hand and made of mirrors.
On top of this sprawled an octopus, pearly white but for the dark tip of a single tentacle.
Surely this was the last octopus for the scavenger hunt—the one she had come all this way to find?
There was a small key at the side where the music box was wound.
Eve walked over to it, crouched down for a better look, and pulled the sketch she’d made for Max from her pocket.
The music box was the same as her drawing.
The only difference was that the music box had words engraved on the lid:
For Eve,
The other half of my soul.
All my love, always,
Max
There was a gentle click as the box wound down and stopped. Silence filled the room once more and Eve took a shuddering breath.
Honest to God, miss, the soldier had said. I felt as if it washed my soul clean….
He was right. That was how it felt—like the healing moment that followed tears.
The air felt purer, easier to breathe. And Eve had the sudden sense that, impossibly, it would all be okay.
A single tear spilled down her cheek and she wiped it away, wondering how many years it must have been since she had last done so.
“Eve?”
Quickly, she rose to her feet and turned around.
Max stood in the entrance to the frigidarium.
He’d clearly lost his battle with Matron because he was wearing his uniform.
It was the first time she’d seen him in it since his arrival at the train station.
She was pleased to see that it fitted him better now that he wasn’t so thin.
It made him look older, too—much older than his twenty years.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, walking over. “The others have all gone in to dinner.”
“There’s a music box—” Eve began, but when she looked down, it had gone. “It was here, it…It was playing the most beautiful music in the world.”
Max came to her side, shaking his head. “There’s no such thing. It doesn’t exist. It cannot.”
“It does. I just heard it.”
He looked at her closely. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve been…crying.”
She tried to gather herself, but it was difficult to think clearly through the echoes of that music.
And the engraved words glowed inside her mind as well.
She didn’t know how to explain it. All she knew was that she didn’t love Max, she didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t.
They were friends, that’s all, and it would hurt to say goodbye, but she would do it, she would leave, and she would win the scavenger hunt, because the gate was creaking and creaking inside her head, and Bella was giggling as she ran out into the road, and it couldn’t be allowed to happen again.
She thought of the night up on the roof, and how it would have played out if she hadn’t been there, and she felt sick to her soul and couldn’t look Max in the eye.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Sorry. It just…It’s a strange day.”
“Yes.” He glanced down at the sketch in her hands. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s, um…It’s for you, actually. I know you were trying to keep it a secret, but everyone should get something on their birthday.”
“Birthday?” he replied, looking genuinely surprised. “Oh. Yes, I suppose it is. Huh. I never thought I’d make twenty. Can I see it then?”
He held out his hand and Eve passed it to him, suddenly embarrassed. What use was a scrawled picture on a piece of paper? It couldn’t make up for what she planned to do. Or, more important, not do. Max stared down at the drawing for what felt like a long time before he finally looked back at her.
“This is . . ,” he said, a slight catch in his voice. “Thank you. I will treasure it always. Listen, I’m glad to find you here. I was hoping to have the chance to say goodbye properly. And I wanted to thank you. For…for all that you’ve done for me. You’ve been…a tremendous friend.”
I have not, Eve thought. I am the very worst type of friend there is. The worst type of person.
“I owe you a debt,” Max went on. “Such a large debt, and I suppose I shall never manage to repay it.”
“You owe me nothing,” Eve said quietly.
Perhaps I won’t win, she thought again with a fierce flare of hope.
Perhaps I won’t win the hunt, will never find those last clocks or octopus.
Yet, she couldn’t shake the conviction that, one way or another, she would win.
Because Eve was the type of person who achieved the thing she set her mind on, no matter how difficult or impossible it might seem.
And, besides, she would lose Max either way.
When she checked out, even her memories of him would vanish.
The good times don’t last. And some friendships can’t be forever.
Very carefully, Max folded the drawing and put it in his pocket. “Well,” he said. “We should go in to dinner.”
“We should,” Eve replied.
But they didn’t move. And they didn’t move.
The air between them became charged with something tingling and electric.
The frigidarium was warm compared to the hotel and she was starting to sweat beneath her uniform.
Max must have been roasting in his and she found herself staring at the buttons of his jacket.
They’d been tarnished at some point by exposure to poisonous gas and she wished she could reach out and undo them, one by one, that she could run her fingers along the bare skin of his chest.
“Max,” she began, then broke off because she was sure he must hear the longing in her voice.
Don’t go.
Stay here.
With me.
The words rang so loudly inside her head that perhaps he heard them too.
Eve wasn’t sure who stepped forwards first. All she knew was that Max’s arms were around her, his hands pressing against the small of her back, her fingers clutching his collar, and then his lips were on hers and there was the kiss, at last. And for once, there were no apples, or balloons, or rabbits.
There was just Max Everly, setting her on fire.
They staggered to the tepidarium like drunks and locked the door of the chamber behind them, sweat running down them as they undressed.
Eve didn’t have any birth control and she knew she was taking a risk—one she’d vowed she would never, ever take.
But she couldn’t bring herself to make them stop, not when this was their one and only chance.
There were no parts of her body she wanted to cover—not even the octopus.
And the warmth of Max’s hands on her skin was the single most blissful feeling she’d ever experienced.
Here, at last, was where she was supposed to be, with the person she was supposed to love.
Afterwards, as they lay together on one of the benches, Max’s fingers gently squeezed hers. “I love you,” he said.
And I’m supposed to love you back, Eve thought. But I can’t.