Authors: Melody John
‘This way,’ David said, and I saw that on the right was a fire exit door. We pushed it open, and found that it led to a flight of steps. These were even worse than the first lot. I kept on stubbing my toes, and my palms squeaked and burned on the handrail. I couldn’t hear anything over the sound of my own heart, and it took all of my concentration to just keep on putting one foot down in front of the other, and not just crumple up and faint dead away.
But finally we reached the top of the stairs, and saw that there was another door. And beyond that was the roof. It was empty, the wind howling across, and as I clung dizzily to David’s arm I realised that I hadn’t even thought about what would happen if there had been people up here, smokers or slacking janitors or…
‘Whoa,’ David said. He hauled me up as I slumped. ‘Okay, come on Lizzie, we’re here now, don’t miss the ending.’
Dmitri said, ‘I’ve got to go
now
, they’ll still be searching.’
For a moment we all just stared at each other. I don’t think any of us really knew what to do next. How do you say goodbye in a situation like this?
‘Well,’ Dmitri said. ‘Goodbye then.’
But it was so abrupt—even though I’d known it was going to happen, suddenly I felt as though I couldn’t handle it. I was about to say something, but then I saw David’s face. And I realised that no matter how difficult this was for me, it probably wasn’t even close to how David felt.
So I sniffed and said, ‘Goodbye, Dmitri.’ I hugged him, and he hugged me back so tightly that I couldn’t breathe.
Then he let me go. He smiled. ‘I hope you think the next season of
Doctor Who
is better than the last one.’
Then he turned to David. For a second, Dmitri looked a little scared, wary, but David wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. I looked away, because I didn’t want to see if either of them started crying.
I heard David say in a muffled voice, ‘Well, go along then. Don’t hang around.’
Dmitri took a couple of steps away from us. ‘I’ll send you a postcard,’ he said.
‘You’d better,’ I said.
He smiled. There was that strange shimmer in the air, that pricking pressure, and I knew that he had dropped his glamour again. David made a choked noise in his throat, and I held onto his arm, as much to comfort him as to support myself.
Dmitri spread his wings wide open. Out here in the proper sunlight, not dulled by the hospital, his wings were a glorious stretch of tawny feathers, glinting russet and copper under the sun. I saw how they matched his hair. I saw the darker, stronger, thicker primary feathers, which were flecked with darker brown, and the lighter downy feathers underneath and at the base of his shoulders, which were a creamy colour like milky coffee.
‘You’re beautiful,’ David said.
Dmitri looked startled, and then he smiled. ‘So are you.’
He bent his knees slightly. And then he leapt into the air. The draft from his wings almost knocked me over, and David staggered back. Dmitri was high in the air, flapping steadily. He looked down at us, and I thought maybe he was going to say something more. But he merely waved, and then he swooped low over our heads, so low that the wind from his passing ruffled our hair and clothes, and flew up and away.
‘Wow,’ came Laura’s voice behind us.
David whipped around. Laura was holding on to the door handle, her face paper white. She laughed unsteadily. ‘I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?’
David started towards her, but the sudden movement was too much. I felt the world begin to whirl and blend all around me. The sickness in my stomach rose up, and everything went black.
I was all right, of course. We all were. Laura and I had to stay in the hospital overnight, and afterwards were instructed to take it easy and eat lots of sugar. That was pretty easy, especially as we all managed to make it home in time for the holidays. David wasn’t even late for his train.
Of course, none of us told anyone about what had happened. Laura made an official complaint against Jamie, but there wasn’t much more that any of us could do. But either that or guilt worked some kind of remorse in him, and Jamie didn’t come back to uni after the holidays were over.
I spent a quiet Christmas at home with my parents. It was nice to be back home, and having someone else cook my meals and do my laundry, and I’d missed my parents. They were pleased to see me, and eager to hear all about what they called ‘Lizzie’s Adventures at University’.
No, I told them, that’s not patronising at all.
I spoke to Laura and David a bit on Facebook, but we were all kind of subdued with each other after what had happened, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward with David. It’s an odd situation, trying to comfort your broken-hearted friend whom you still have feelings for.
But Christmas came, and Christmas passed, and soon it was time to pack my bags and go back to uni. Mum and Dad gave me a colander and a new pair of oven gloves to go back with me. The oven gloves had little yellow minions on from
Despicable Me
, and I protested that they were too cute to use, but I knew Laura and David would like them.
I arrived back at the halls in the afternoon.They were pretty busy, full of people rushing about and blocking up the corridors with suitcases and baggage. I squeezed along to my room and unlocked the door. I dumped my suitcase on the bed, and gazed around me. My
Back to the Future
poster and the print of
Carnation, Lily, Lily, Rose
that I’d bought from the gallery. The collection of Funko figures on the windowsill. Two chocolate wrappers left behind on the desk.
And I smiled, and felt my apprehension leave me.
I was halfway through unpacking when there came a knock on the door. I opened it, and Laura and David came in. There was lots of exclaiming and hugging. Laura had completely recovered, and her eyeliner was still unnaturally perfect. David had a new aftershave, and I caught the faint scent of it when I hugged him.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
‘Good,’ I said. ‘What about you?’
He lifted one shoulder, and half-smiled. ‘Better than I was. You know. It’s hard, but… well, I guess you have to move on.’
‘You haven’t heard anything from him?’ Laura asked.
‘No. But I suppose if you’re on the run, you can’t really stop to Skype, can you.’
‘No.’ I nudged his shoulder. ‘One day, though. Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ He sighed, then gave a rather forced smile. ‘Well, anyway. Did you guys get anything good for Christmas?’
I sat there, listening to my own voice going on about minion oven gloves and book vouchers, and then listening to both of them. It was strange, and at first it was so uncomfortable that I felt quite miserable. But gradually we all thawed out towards each other again. Laura had a story about her uncle losing a tooth in his plum pudding, and David had an unpopular opinion about the
Doctor Who
Christmas special, and I’d heard casting rumours for the new
Star Wars
film.
And as we talked, and eventually laughed together, I felt the shadow of the previous term lighten. We weren’t going to forget Dmitri, but we could still live our lives with the memory of all that had happened. And as I watched David relax and finally throw back his head and laugh in his old familiar way, I knew that things wouldn’t sour between him and me. They might change, but everything was always changing. What mattered was that we would all change together, not apart. As long as that remained solid, I felt like we could handle pretty much anything this term had to throw at us.
Ten weeks into the new term, on a bright, crisp Saturday morning, I was in the kitchen with Laura. I was scrambling eggs, and she was frying bacon, and we were waiting for David to come and make the toast.
He came into the kitchen, and Laura said with mock-anger, ‘Where have you been, you slacker? Bacon’s almost ready.’
‘Look.’ David’s voice was breathless, and a little shaky. We immediately looked around. We saw that he was holding something in his hand. ‘I just went and got the post,’ he said. He held the thing up, and I saw that it was a postcard, very dog-eared, and with one corner torn away.
I drew in my breath. ‘Is it—’
‘Yes.’ David crossed the room, and showed us the postcard. It just had a faded picture of a waterfall on, but the back was covered in firm black handwriting.
Laura read it aloud softly: ‘
Dear David, Lizzie, and Laura. I hope you’re well. I can’t really tell you where I am, because—well, you know why. But I’m doing well. It’s unbelievably strange, living this life without elders or tutors or coursework deadlines. It was hard (don’t say that’s what she said) but I think I’m getting used to it now. I miss you all. But I’m well and I’m safe and I’m free. Thank you. Thank you for showing me that this was a possibility. And I really really hope that I can come back one day. But until then—David, I’m sure you didn’t like the
Doctor Who
special, and I agree with you, the coincidences are getting very annoying. Laura, I hope you’re better after all that happened, and I hope you’re not feeling suffocated by all the Kerouacs in your classes. Lizzie, don’t forget to practise. Great power, great responsibility, and all that. I hope I’ll see you guys soon. Dmitri
.’
‘See,’ David said rather loudly, ‘I said the coincidences were getting ridiculous.’
‘Yeah,’ I said.
‘Bacon!’ Laura exclaimed. Both the pans were smoking. We hastily rescued the eggs and bacon, and then we sat down at the table. David held Dmitri’s postcard, reading it over and over again.
I gently poked him with my fork. ‘Eat your breakfast.’
David grinned, and picked up his cutlery. ‘See, the thing is that the writers just don’t understand that coincidences can be overdone. What they need to remember is…’
And he and Laura were off, hotly debating the merits and flaws of recent
Doctor Who
episodes. I smiled, and began eating my breakfast.
~ end ~