Being (29 page)

Read Being Online

Authors: Kevin Brooks

‘It’s the last day tomorrow,’ Eddi said as we started walking back to the flat. ‘One more night and that’s it.’

‘Until next year.’

‘Yeah…’

I looked at her. ‘Do you think we’ll still be here?’

‘I don’t know… maybe.’ She carried on walking in silence for a while, but I could tell she was thinking about something. I kept quiet and waited. Eventually she looked at me and said, ‘Would you mind if we were still here next year?’

I shook my head. ‘No, I wouldn’t mind. I like it here.’

She smiled. ‘Me too. I think I could…’

‘What?’ I said as her voice trailed off. ‘You think you could what?’

‘Nothing,’ she said hesitantly. ‘I just meant that… you know, I could live here… with you. I mean, I think we could live here. That’s all I meant.’

I looked at her. She seemed slightly embarrassed, as if she’d said something she hadn’t meant to say. But it wasn’t an awkward embarrassment. In fact, there was something almost radiant about it – her shining blue eyes, her pale skin glowing in the light of the evening sun. She was everything that’s beautiful.

‘I finish at nine tomorrow,’ she said.

‘Sorry?’

She smiled at me. ‘Everyone’s going to the procession, so the restaurant’s closing early. I’ll be finished by nine o’clock. You can come and meet me and we can watch the procession together.’


Something happened to me then. As I looked at Eddi, trying to speak, something was happening… some kind of feeling, somewhere inside me. I didn’t know what it was. It was as if all my emotions – whatever they were – had suddenly gone into overload. The worst terror, the greatest joy, the deepest sadness, the most violent hatred… everything there ever was. It was all there, all in a single moment. And although I was feeling it now, I somehow knew that it came from another time, a time when everything would come together – the past, the future… the beginning, the end. Everything that would ever be.

It was all there.

I could feel it coming.

And I couldn’t do anything about it.

26

When I got to El Corazón at nine o’clock on Monday night, Eddi had already changed out of her waitress uniform and was waiting for me on the balcony outside the restaurant. She was wearing the white cotton dress that she’d worn when we’d first arrived in Spain, and it looked even better on her now than it had done all those months ago. It somehow seemed to look different too. And I suppose, in a way, it
was
different. Back then, it had just been a dress. But now… well, now it was more than that. It was part of our lives. Part of our history. It was part of
us.

‘You look beautiful,’ I told her.

‘So do you.’

As we kissed each other, I heard whistles and cheers from inside the restaurant, and when I looked over Eddi’s shoulder I saw the smiling faces of the rest of the staff – the chef, the barman, the restaurant owners.

‘Just ignore them,’ Eddi said, grinning at her colleagues. ‘They’re jealous.’

Although the procession hadn’t started yet, San Miguel was already packed with people, so instead of fighting our way through the crowds, we decided to stay where we were and watch the celebrations from the balcony. It was a warm
sultry night and the air was cooler on the terrace, and as the procession would pass directly beneath us, we wouldn’t have to stretch our necks to see anything.

‘Do you want something to eat?’ Eddi asked me as I pulled up a table to the edge of the balcony.

‘I’m all right, thanks.’

We sat down.

She said, ‘How about a Coke or something?’

I shook my head. Eddi smiled at me, then turned her attention to the street down below. The festival was beginning to reach its peak now and people were starting to parade down San Miguel in advance of the main procession. There were men on white horses, people in costumes and masks, children with candles and sparklers. There were drummers, clowns, musicians, dancers. The wine was flowing, the music was whirling, the whole village was coming to life. And as Eddi sat there watching it all, and I sat there watching her, I could see the simple joy in her eyes. She looked fresh and happy… relaxed and untroubled.

She looked alive.

‘Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink?’ she said, turning to look at me. ‘I can get us some coffee if you want.’

‘I’m fine,’ I told her. ‘What about you? Don’t you want any wine?’

‘I don’t think so.’ She smiled. ‘Not tonight.’

When the main part of the procession finally appeared, the bustling noise of the street quickly faded into a reverent hush and the crowds were suddenly still. At the head of the procession was the image of the La Virgen de las
Maravillas. Set upon a wooden cradle – which Jorge had told me was called a
paso
– the beautifully painted statue was carried high on the shoulders of the
costaleros
, and as they passed by beneath us, I could see the pride on Jorge’s solemn face. It was a wonderful sight. The intricately carved cradle was decorated with candles and flowers, and as it moved gracefully through the crowded street, heading for the church, the Virgin’s pale luminescence shimmered softly against the clear black sky.

This is Tejeda, I thought to myself. This is the village, the world. This is everything. There doesn’t have to be anything else.

As the crowds followed the procession down to the church, we stayed on the balcony and watched the rest of the celebrations from a distance. This was the climax of the festival, when the statue of the Virgin was returned to her church, and the
paso
was put away until the same time next year. The rituals began with the
costaleros
lifting the
paso
up to the sky, then lowering it again, then lifting it again, and lowering it again… and as this went on there was music playing, dancers dancing, a choir singing… and the villagers and the tourists were all gathered round the courtyard, clapping and cheering, their shadowed faces flickering in the candlelit darkness. After a while, the church doors were opened and the
costaleros
began swaying in time to the music, rocking the
paso
to and fro, moving the Virgin towards the church, then away from it… then towards it again and away from it again… until finally they started carrying the statue into the church. They moved sedately, like mourners carrying a coffin. When they were halfway through the church doors they stopped… and
started moving back out. Then they stopped again and started moving back in… and then out again… and in… and out… and in. And all the time, the choir sang on, their angelic voices drifting up into the night…

It was mesmerizing. And as I sat there watching the rituals and looking around at all the people, I started getting that feeling again – the feeling of another time, a time when everything would come together – and just for a moment I wondered if that time was now.

The music had stopped. The Virgin had been returned to her church and the doors had finally closed. The air was silent and still. I looked at Eddi. Her eyes were fixed on mine and she was smiling at me like I’d never seen her smile before.

‘We don’t have to say anything, do we?’ she said quietly.

I smiled back at her. ‘About what?’

‘Us… you and me… you know, how it feels…’

‘No,’ I told her, ‘we don’t have to say anything.’

‘Good,’ she said, still smiling. ‘Because I think I might start crying if I tell you how I feel right now.’

Just then, a firework fizzed up into the sky from the church square. We both looked up as the bright white trace climbed higher and higher into the darkness, whistling faintly in the clear night air, and then suddenly the sky exploded with a massive burst of blinding colours, and almost immediately a thunderous boom ripped through the night. As the star-burst sky crackled and hissed, and the boom echoed dully around the hills, I looked across at Eddi again. The sparkled night was shining brightly in the blue of her eyes, like coloured stars floating in the sea, and as she leaned across the table and took my hand, I could feel myself drowning.

We sat there looking at each other for a long time, smiling
like fools in our own tiny universe, neither wanting nor needing to be anywhere else.

It was a moment I’ll never forget.

The fireworks were still going off as we left the restaurant and started walking back to the flat, and the streets were beginning to get busy again. The Virgin was back in her church, the serious business was over, and the crowds were moving back into the village to make the most of the last few hours of the festival. Everyone was drinking, laughing, singing and dancing… it looked as if it was going to be a long and noisy night.

But I wasn’t really there.

As we walked the streets, hand in hand, I was lost in my head, trying to work out what to do. I didn’t
want
to do anything. I just wanted to be happy… and I was… I
was
happy. I’d never felt so good in my life. But that was it: my life. My life was a lie.
I
was a lie. Whatever Eddi felt about me and whatever I felt about her… whatever we had together… it was all made worthless by that one big lie.

She didn’t know what I was.

How could I be happy with that?

How could I live with it?

How could I let
her
live with it?

I couldn’t. Not any more.

But what could I do?

The question kept spinning around in my mind, getting bigger and bigger all the time, until eventually it blocked out everything else and there was nothing left inside my head but the echoing sound of those four simple words:

What can I do?

What can I do?

What can I do?

As we turned off San Miguel and headed down the cobbled lane towards the flat, I knew there was only one answer. I had to tell Eddi the truth. It was the only way. I had to tell her everything. And if she didn’t believe me, I’d have to show her. I’d have to cut myself open and let her see the truth for herself. Whatever it took, she had to know what I was.

And then…?

I didn’t know what would happen then. She might be horrified, repulsed, disgusted. She might hate me for lying to her. She might just walk out and leave me. But whatever happened, and however she felt, at least there’d be no more lying. And then maybe, just maybe, everything might be OK. We might even have a future together.

A true life.

We’d reached the house now, and as Eddi got out her key and unlocked the front door, I looked at her and smiled. She looked back at me for a moment, then put her arms round my neck and kissed me.

‘It’ll be all right,’ I said.

‘What will?’

‘Everything.’

She smiled. ‘I know.’

The house was quiet inside. The Garcias were probably still at the festival, and I guessed that Chico, their dog, was cowering in the dark somewhere, scared into silence by the fireworks. The booms and crashes of the fireworks were still thudding away outside as we headed up the stairs, and even in here I could smell the faint drift of gunpowder smoke in the air.

‘What do you think about looking for somewhere else to live?’ Eddi asked me as we reached the landing. ‘I mean, I really like it here, but it’d be nice to get a bigger place eventually. You know, somewhere with a bit more room.’ She put her key in the door. ‘I’d have to get a different job, I suppose… something that pays a bit more.’ She pushed open the door, then paused, smiling at a sudden thought. ‘Hey, maybe we could get a car as well… a nice little Jeep or something. What do you think?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ I said as I followed her into the flat. ‘As long as you’re paying for it…’

As soon as I shut the door behind us, I knew that something was wrong. The lights were off, so I couldn’t see anything… but I didn’t have to see it to know it. Something was different, something had changed… and then it dawned on me. It was the darkness. Even with all the lights turned off, the flat was never as dark as this. The window was always open, the curtains never closed… there was always a hint of light from somewhere, even on the darkest of nights. And tonight the sky was ablaze with fireworks.

‘Hold on, Eddi,’ I started to say, ‘I think there’s –’

Eddi gasped, a short intake of breath, and the sound of her shock cut through the blackness. The lights suddenly snapped on and there was Ryan – sitting in the armchair with a gun in his hand, his silver eyes fixed on me.

‘Hello, Robert,’ he said. ‘You’re a hard man to find.’

27

It took me a moment to realize that Ryan wasn’t alone. It was a long moment, a moment I’d always known was coming, and now it was here – the time when everything came together: the past, the future… the beginning, the end. This was it. Me and Ryan. This was everything. And for a second or two, that’s all there was – me and Ryan, his eyes, his gun, the whirling blackness inside my head. There
was
nothing else. No sound, no movement, no thoughts, no sense. Nobody else existed.

But then Eddi spat out an angry curse –
‘Shit!
Get
off
me!’ – and a massive firework flashed and boomed in the sky outside, and suddenly my head was clear. I could see all around me. I could see that Eddi had been grabbed from behind by the woman called Hayes, and that Hayes was holding a gun to her head. And I could see two men in suits, one on either side of me, both of them carrying pistols. One of them, the one on my right, was the bull-headed man from the hospital basement, the man whose nose I’d broken. Cooper. The other one I’d never seen before, but he looked just as mean as his partner.

‘Lock the door, Kelly,’ Ryan told him.

Kelly locked the door.

I glanced over at Eddi. Hayes still had hold of her, and I could see the anger and shock in Eddi’s face, but she wasn’t struggling. She was just standing there, looking at me, her eyes calm and steady. She was letting me know she could deal with this…
we
could deal with it.

‘Are you all right?’ I said to her.

She nodded.

I looked back at Ryan. He was watching me, studying me, his silver eyes glinting dully in the cold white light. He seemed older than I remembered – older and greyer, his face lined with tiredness. He looked like a man who’d come a long way.

Other books

Say You Love Me by Johanna Lindsey
Ghost by Jessica Coulter Smith, Jessica Smith
Noman by William Nicholson
The Disdainful Marquis by Edith Layton
A Thousand Stitches by Constance O'Keefe
Clash Of Worlds by Philip Mcclennan
Break of Dawn by Rita Bradshaw
Vampire Girl by Karpov Kinrade