Scattering Like Light (33 page)

The sound of the main evening news coming on broke through my thoughts and I swivelled round in my chair to see what they had to say about the events on the Thames. Unsurprisingly it was the headline item, and they had stacks of footage of the bodies lined up and then bursting into flames. On the TV the chaos looked even worse than when I was there, and the reports were interspersed with interviews from the police and fire brigade, all of whom were utterly clueless. In a breaking-news update, though, they interviewed the head of the lifeguards.

“So, Commander Maguire, from what you were just saying, this isn’t the first time this has happened?” The interviewer was almost breathless, realising the potential of what he was about to reveal.

“No, that’s right. About a month ago we were called to a shout in the exact same stretch of the river. We pulled out a young white male who we managed to revive briefly, but then sadly lost. As we were loading his body on to the ambulance it burst into flames and within minutes it had gone.”

“And why wasn’t this widely reported at the time?”

“We filed all our usual reports and were quite surprised when there wasn’t more about it on the news.”

The reporter nodded sagely. “And what was it you discovered when it was reported?”

“Well, that was very curious,” continued Commander
Maguire. “The remains were sent as usual for a post-mortem, and were identified by both dental records and a tattoo that one of my team had seen before he caught fire. The man we pulled out of the river was no more than twenty-five, but the records put him at seventy-six.”

“So just over fifty years older than he appeared?”

“Indeed.”

“Any other similarities with the current tragedy?”

“The original victim had exactly the same injuries as all the people who appeared tonight, and burned in the same intense way. We have no idea what’s going on.”

I smiled to myself. As long as they had no idea then no one would come asking me questions I couldn’t answer. And they wouldn’t be asking Callum, either. I was starting to relax when the news moved on.

“In a bizarre twist it has been reported that the only two people to be pulled alive out of the Thames under Blackfriars Bridge have been informally identified as Catherine and Callum Bailey. They have been taken to hospital where they are suffering from minor burns, but it is not yet confirmed if they have similar injuries to the bodies in the river. Eyewitness reports from the scene suggest that Ms Bailey jumped into the Thames and her brother attempted to save her. No links have as yet been found between the Bailey family, who live in Kent, and the subsequent events on the river.”

The news carried on while I sat there, agog. Callum was on the TV – I knew his name, and that he lived in Kent! I hugged the tiny snippets to me as I waited for news. In the long hours as I sat there the receptionist turned away about a dozen journalists and photographers, all desperate to see the ones in the river who didn’t
burn up completely. I listened to a couple who were gossiping in the chairs behind me, waiting for their chance.

“Of course, she’s a psycho, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I heard about the traffic accident. Parents killed in dodgy circumstances. She must have done it, it’s a no brainer. God knows how she managed to get off the murder charges.”

“Different rules for them types, ain’t it?”

“You reckon both of’em are involved?”

“Nah, just her. All the rumours say she’s been weird for years. Apparently as a kid she was done for fraud.”

“Did you hear the other rumour? Barry at the news desk says that she found out earlier today from the family lawyers that her parents had cut her out of their wills. She’s getting nothing.”

“No wonder she tried to top herself!”

“Yeah. Her parents must’ve seen right through her. Didn’t do them any good though, eh?”

“Nah. Should’ve made sure she knew about the will, eh? Then they might still be alive.”

The other man laughed. “They won’t be making that mistake again!” He paused as he took a noisy slurp of his vending-machine drink. “So, worthwhile hanging about here, you reckon?”

“I’m going to have another crack at the receptionist but if that doesn’t work I think we should get back to the river. Do you know, Mike was saying that…” The voices faded as they walked away.

My mind was swirling with all the sudden information about Callum and Catherine. She had obviously been a nasty piece of work for years, and that made me even more angry that she should be a survivor. Even Veronica, who had deceived me, had done it with the best of intentions. But something about
Catherine’s behaviour when I saw her in the ward didn’t add up, and I couldn’t work out what it was. She looked like Catherine, but her mannerisms were definitely Olivia’s.

I was still puzzling over it all when the doctor I had seen earlier appeared at the door. As soon as she caught my eye she beckoned me over.

“Look, you seem like you’re on the level. No family have turned up yet, so why don’t you sit with him for a bit? Any nonsense, though, and you’re out, OK?”

“Thanks, doctor, I appreciate it. How is he?” But she’d disappeared behind another curtain. I walked down the room to the right cubicle and slipped through the gap in the curtains.

The scene that met my eyes left me breathless. Most of the machines had been disconnected and Callum was sitting up in the hospital bed, examining the bandages on his wrist. His thick, tousled hair seemed to glow in the bright light, his long, strong fingers picking at the fastening of his dressing. As he lifted his head I saw a shy smile just touching his eyes, eyes that still shone blue and green in a face that was young and carefree. I stepped forwards without thinking, a huge grin forming on my face, ready to leap on to his lap and kiss him until I was thrown out.

“Hello?” he said, and his look of polite enquiry stopped me in my tracks.

“Callum? Don’t you know me?”

A puzzled frown flitted across his achingly familiar features. “I don’t think so. I’m sure I would have remembered you.” He smiled briefly but then his frown deepened. “Hang on; weren’t you at the riverbank earlier? Were you the girl talking to Catherine?” He looked at me intently. “How do you know my name?”

Disappointment flooded over me, mingled with joy that he
was OK. My plan
had
worked but it had been as I had originally feared. He had no knowledge of being a Dirge, or of me. Everything had been put back as it was before I interfered. Everything we had shared over the last few months was lost; every look, every touch, was all gone.

Tears pricked my eyes as I started to back out of the cubicle. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

“Wait a second, I’m sure it was you! What on earth did you say to my sister to make her jump?”

What could I possible say that wasn’t going to sound completely mad? “I’m sorry, I thought she was someone else. I didn’t mean for it to happen, believe me.” There was so much to apologise for, so much pain that I had caused, but also so much joy that I was now never going to have. I risked a glance at his beautiful, distant face: a face I would never hold in my hands and kiss again. This
was
vastly better than him being dead, but it was just as painful. A huge sob erupted out of me before I could stop it and he looked at me in alarm as I swayed, lost in my grief.

“Here, sit down quickly before you fall over,” he said, edging sideways on the small bed and patting the space he had made.

I did as I was told, conscious of the warmth of his body so close to mine, the smell of his skin, the light touching his hair. I couldn’t stop sobbing, and howled afresh when he tentatively patted me on the back to calm me down.

“I think you need a tissue,” he suggested, nodding towards the box on the treatment table beside the bed.

I tried to nod, but hiccuped instead. I blindly groped for the tissues at the same time as he reached for the box. I felt my bandaged wrist brush against the identical bandage on his arm, then froze. Our wrists were as close together as they could be in
the same world. Where my amulet had been suddenly felt warm, and for a brief second the wave of power from it flooded through me again. Almost as quickly as it appeared it left, and I’m sure I saw the wrappings around his hand glisten with fleeting sparks. He froze too, his eyes widening in shock as he stared unseeing into the distance. Our wrists were locked together by some invisible force and I was powerless to move, to stop whatever it was that was happening.

After several long minutes his head dropped to his chest and he groaned. His wrist fell away from mine, clattering on to the treatment table and knocking several things to the ground. I finally remembered to breathe as I watched, not knowing what trick the amulet might be playing on us now. The waiting became too much. “Callum?” I asked gently. “Are you OK?”

He finally moved, raising his eyes to mine. I could have sworn I saw a gold fleck dancing in one, but then it was gone. My heart was pounding so hard I could barely hear myself think, and the fear made me feel quite sick. I saw him prepare to speak, those soft lips parting while he worked out what to say. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, even though part of me wanted to run, to hide, to never know that I was still a stranger to him. But I was pinned to the spot, utterly unable to move, waiting for his words.

“Alex?” he whispered. “Is it really you?”

The relief was like a wave, washing away the fear and horror that had been circling me. I put a tentative hand towards him before pulling it back. He might not be happy about what he had just learned.

“Callum? Do you remember?”

He nodded briefly, then pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. When he finally straightened up he looked older, more
tired, and he sounded exhausted. “I remember everything; every last minute of it.”

“I’m so, so sorry, all of it was my fault. And now I’ve made you remember everything as well.” I hung my head, desperately ashamed of all the suffering I was continuing to cause.

The gentle stroking of my hair made me jump. “Don’t say that, Alex. Thanks to you, all those unhappy people are now free. That was the bravest thing that anyone could have done.”

I turned my tear-streaked face to his. “I just wish I had been able to persuade Catherine to help, then some of them might be alive.”

“Are they all … gone?”

I nodded miserably. “They’re all appearing in the water, dead, and then going up in flames. It’s causing quite a stir outside.”

“Catherine made it, didn’t she?” His strong hand reached for me, curling his fingers through mine, and although my head was still reeling from the horror I was describing, my heart was soaring as I felt his warm skin against mine.

“She’s over there.” I nodded towards her cubicle. “But something’s not quite right. What do you remember about those final moments in St Paul’s? What happened?”

Callum sat back on his pillows, pulling me with him so that I was curled up on his lap, safe in his arms at last. “It was the strangest thing,” he murmured into my hair. “I had just managed to chase Olivia back to the Whispering Gallery when I realised that something was wrong. Veronica was hanging on for grim death to something, and I saw it was Catherine. Then you shouted, and I knew that we had trouble, that if we didn’t get into the line Olivia and I would be stuck as Dirges forever. I think she realised something at the same time, and that was when she dived for
Catherine. She started destroying Catherine’s mind, desperate to make her stop. I guess she was trying to make up for the mistakes she caused before.

“I was trying to hold on to Catherine, to stop her plummeting before Olivia had a chance to get into the sparks, but of course that was hopeless. Then, as the Dirge next to you disappeared, you unleashed that huge pulse of power.” There was a distinct air of respect in his tone. “I saw the bolt approach, taking out Veronica and then the girls before it got to me.”

“But how come Veronica disappeared? I mean, she was a human, she should have been OK.”

“Watching them, there was no difference between the way the sparks reacted to Veronica or Catherine than to the rest of us. You were the only one they had no effect on. I guess they both disappeared because they had been Dirges before, but you hadn’t. And as you predicted, because it was so quick, Catherine and I managed to get back to our real bodies in time.” He paused for a second, pulling me even closer to him and wrapping his long arms tightly around me. “What – what happened to Olivia?”

“I saw her body on the quayside, along with all the others—” I started.

“I suppose that figures,” he answered before I could finish. “But I had hoped that she might have—”

“But I think she may have done!” It was my turn to interrupt. “Something isn’t right with Catherine. She doesn’t seem to remember anything, is acting like a small girl, and is doing this with her hands!” I sat up to show him what I meant, linking my fingers in a chain. “I’ve only ever seen Olivia do that.”

“Really? How can that be?” Callum sat up, frowning in concentration, his eyes glazed as he remembered the scene. “I
think,” he started slowly, “I think Olivia succeeded in wiping Catherine’s mind. Maybe the wave came along and pushed Olivia’s personality into Catherine just before we got transported back to our bodies.”

“Do you think that could happen?” I tried to keep the incredulity out of my voice.

“Olivia certainly managed to do
something
to her before they fell.”

“But how come they didn’t smash on to the floor?”

“The sparks consumed them both before they got there, I guess.”

I replayed the scene in my mind; maybe he was right, but we would never really know. What was more important was what was going to happen next. “And what about you? What do you remember now?”

Callum held me by the shoulders and gently turned me around to face him. “I remember everything, from being a Dirge to the life before.”

“All of it? Everything about who you really are?”

“Every minute, the good and the bad,” he sighed. “If Catherine really has gone that would probably be for the best. She did some terrible things.”