‘These done?’ Safa asks, poking the steaks.
They eat at the big table. Communal dining al fresco, with big, meaty steaks served with hot potatoes and salad. Ria’s hand hurts. She glances to see Safa’s hand is red, and knows hers will be the same. She wants to be like Safa, but becoming anything like these people is a path too difficult to take.
In truth, she is equal parts intimidated by, in awe and resentful of them all. Safa and Emily are both so fit and healthy. Ria’s belly wobbles when she runs and her thighs rub together. She’s not fat, but then she’s not fit either. Not fit at all. Okay, maybe she is a bit fat. Not obese though. Curvy. Safa and Emily have six-packs. Actual six-packs. You can see the muscles and everything. Ria has never seen a woman with a six-pack in real life who hasn’t had cosmetic surgery. Even the actors she saw on set were digitally edited to make them look better.
Ben Ryder is an actual urban legend. Something from folklore, and even though he is always polite and friendly, she still feels weirded out when he talks to her.
Harry is lovely, but so quiet, and Ria finds it hard to find anything to say to him that doesn’t sound like trite, immature gibberish.
The doctor is nice, but spends most of his time with Bertie.
Miri is just scary.
Ria thinks ahead to the night and tries to decide where she will sleep. The island is like paradise, but spiders keep getting in the shack and Bertie refuses to remove them cos, like, they’re totally so cool. Bloody Bertie. She’ll sleep in the bunker tonight. Her rooms are nice now.
She pushes her steak round the plate and munches on a green leaf while listening to Miri and Ben bickering over the Barrett.
‘Thing kicks like a mule. Listen, Emily is a better shot than me . . .’
‘No,’ Miri says bluntly.
Ria knows Ben is struggling to handle the Barrett fifty-calibre sniper rifle. She’s not surprised. The thing is enormous. She picked one of them up once and could hardly carry it, let alone imagine firing the thing.
‘You said time isn’t fixed,’ Ben says. ‘So we change. We’ll use something Emily can handle, and let her do the . . .’
‘No.’
‘Why not? Time isn’t fixed, Miri . . .’
‘No, Mr Ryder.’
‘I cannot fire the fucking thing when I’ve been moving. Emily is a trained sniper.’
‘Miss Rose undertook a sniping course, which is a big difference to being an active sniper.’
‘Here they go,’ Emily murmurs.
‘Yep,’ Safa says.
‘We are using the Barrett, Mr Ryder.’
‘Emily can’t handle the Barrett.’
‘Which is why you are using it.’
Ria pushes her steak and chews on a green leaf. Safa and Harry are no good at sniping. Ben is a brilliant shot, but he’s struggling to hit moving targets after running. Ben and Miri bicker. Harry and the doc talk quietly. Emily and Safa the same. Bertie stares round in absolute glee and awe. Ria prods her steak. She misses her mum. She needs her mum. She wonders where her dad is, then immediately feels the bite of anger at him. He deserted them. He ran off. It was Ria and her mum throwing themselves at the people in their house.
‘Finished?’
‘Huh?’ She looks up to see everyone staring at her.
‘You’ve hardly touched your food, Ria,’ Doctor Watson says. ‘Feeling okay?’
‘Fine. Not hungry . . . I, er . . . snacked . . .’
Ria rises to gather the dishes to hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. Everyone else starts trying to help. Ria wishes they wouldn’t. It’s easier to do it on her own. Quicker too. She packs the dirty dishes in a basket ready for washing. Waste food is thrown into the sea to feed the fish with food from the future that will change their genealogy and alter the course of the world; or maybe they’ll just eat it and make it into fish poo. Ria doesn’t care. Harry moves off to smoke. Miri goes after him. The two of them silent in their company of dirty smokers. Ria sniffs the air, scenting the toxic aroma of cigarettes. She has smoked before. She tried it at parties when everyone was doing it. It made her feel sick, but there was also something nice about it.
‘Hey.’
Ria looks up in surprise to see Emily walking towards her.
‘You okay?’ Emily asks.
‘Yep,’ Ria says.
‘That was a lovely meal.’
‘Okay.’
‘Oh, did you get the thing for Harry?’ Emily asks quietly.
‘Yep. Got some popcorn too. Don’t know if Harry’s had popcorn before.’
‘Harry will love it. You joining us? We’ll need someone to set it all up.’
‘You can do it.’
Emily is from her time. She knows how to use a tablet. Besides, Emily was an uber secret agent and speaks every language ever invented ever. Ria can speak a bit of French, and that’s only the swear words.
‘Join us. We’ll crash out, eat popcorn . . . It’ll be great.’
‘No, thanks. Got some stuff to do. Like . . . supplies and . . .’
‘Okay,’ Emily says easily. ‘Oh, listen, I was thinking . . . Did you want some personal training or anything? You don’t need to. I don’t mean that. You look great. I meant, you know, if you did? We could do it quietly.’
Ria would love that. ‘No, thanks,’ she says, wishing she could take the words back as they come out. Why does Emily say everything like it’s a sudden thought? Oh, listen, I just had this idea.
‘Oh, okay. Well, listen, just you know, keep it in mind. I can come here or . . . you know, in case you were worried about the others seeing. I get that. I totally get that.’
Ria doesn’t think Emily does get it. Emily is almost perfect. Safa is perfect. ‘Thanks.’
‘They’re still bloody going,’ Safa says, walking over to join them as Ben continues his debate with Miri. ‘Ria, you don’t have to do all the chores. They’ll get lazy if you do everything for them. Just tell Miri to fuck off. Want me to tell her?’
‘It’s fine.’
‘Up to you.’
‘I like doing it,’ Ria says.
‘Weirdo.’
Ria chuckles. She likes Safa’s directness. No sympathy, no empathy, no asking if she’s okay or wants to talk.
Ben marches over, shaking his head. ‘That woman is stubborn as anything.’
‘Most women are,’ Emily says.
‘Aw, the Ryder charm not working?’ Safa asks him.
‘Ben! Can I show you now,’ Bertie calls out, rushing from the table with the doctor behind him rolling his eyes.
‘Sure,’ Ben says.
‘Are we invited?’ Emily asks.
‘Yeah, like, totally,’ Bertie blurts, grinning widely. ‘It’s so cool, but, like, I can’t get signals through it, but, like, the energy from the displacement field is acting as a barrier to certain . . . like, space. Like, no energy to carry the . . . In space no one can hear you scream and the explosions in the movies when they have fire and noise are, like, so wrong cos space is, like, a total vacuum and the displacement field has the same properties which, like, totally kill sound waves and . . .’
‘Okay, okay,’ Emily says, cutting into his rapid speech. She loops an arm through his. ‘Come on, show us.’