And then I’m climbing. A baby. Our baby.
He will be in the upstairs room, I’m sure of it. It’s the perfect place to give him this news. I know it’s not all happy. We’re not going to live until our baby is a big person. But we’ll have created life. Life that will exist after we’ve gone.
I climb up another set of stepping-blocks and walk into a thin-room with doors off it. One of the doors is open, and I peer inside. This is it! The room is full of large white mountains, but I ignore them and look for him. He’s not here. I look again, and that’s when I see the window-hole at one end. He must be through there.
I rush to the hole. I need to see him. As I walk through the hole, I bump into something. I have to duck down to get outside.
“Hello!” I call. The sun is blinding and hot. “Hello,” I say again.
I’ve forgotten his damn name again. I hear voices that sound like they’re a long way away, and other noises, too. A bird. The hum of a car. The laugh of a child. A child. My hands find my stomach.
“Where are you?” I call.
“Jesus Christ.” The voice I hear is faint, like it’s far away. “That’s a woman up there.”
“Where?” someone says.
“On the roof.”
“Oh my God!”
“Someone call 911.”
Although I can hear the voices, I don’t know where they’re coming from. And I don’t really care. I still haven’t found him. I need to find him before I forget. The ground below me feels uneven, like I’m standing on a slant. I wobble. Nothing around me is familiar. I don’t think I’m in the upstairs room anymore.
“Anna!”
I recognize that voice. “Jack? Where are you?”
“I’m down here,” he says. “Don’t jump. Please! I’m coming to get you.”
A sweep of wind goes by, and I extend my arms, trying to steady myself. But there’s nothing to hold on to. Suddenly I see Jack. He’s standing on the green, looking up at me. He’s surrounded by people. None of them is the person I’m looking for.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Luke’s here, Anna!” Jack shouts. “Just stay there, and I’ll come and get you.”
I hear him yell to someone to get Luke. That’s his name. Luke.
Jack is doing the thing when he is angry but he’s trying to sound like he’s calm. He is probably lying about Luke being there. I can’t see him anywhere.
“Where?” I ask.
He looks around. “There!” he says, pointing. “He’s right there. Now, I’m coming up.”
Jack disappears somewhere, and my eyes scan the green. I try to recall why I was looking for him. I hate it when this happens. I’ve got the feeling I went to quite a lot of effort to find him, and then … poof. It’s gone.
I keep looking. Wondering. Then I see him, and it all falls away. My heart fills. And I step forward.
45
Eve
I follow the screaming all the way to Luke’s room. I’m vaguely aware of Andrea behind me—she’s never one to miss out on something interesting happening—but in the moment, I cannot find the will to care. What has happened?
When I get to Luke’s room, Anna is crouched in a corner. The vase is upturned, and flowers and broken glass litter the floor.
“Hi,” I say, entering the room as fast as I can without being threatening. “It’s me, Eve. The cook.”
Anna looks up, her green eyes wide. I notice her palm is bleeding. Luke stands over her protectively. “You’ve cut yourself, Anna.”
Anna looks at her hand as if this is news to her. Dark red blood rushes from the gash and drips from the crevices between her fingers. I realize, with a sinking heart, that she’s going to need stitches.
“Is it okay if I take a look?” I ask.
She nods.
“Good. Why don’t you sit on the bed? Luke—you, too.”
Anna sits, but Luke remains standing where he is. “Okay,” I say, “Anna, I’ll just get something for your—”
“Eve? What on earth is going on?”
Eric appears in the doorway and my heart clenches like a fist. Behind him, in the hallway, Clementine and Andrea look on.
“Eric, I—”
“What were Anna and Luke doing in here alone?” he asks, incredulous.
I’m saved from responding by Rosie who appears from nowhere, shoving her way past Eric. She surveys the room and swears quietly. “Eric, I need a towel,” she says. “Two, if you have them. Quickly, we have to stop this bleeding.”
It takes Eric a few seconds to change his focus, but he finally grabs the towels. Rosie wraps Anna’s hand in it. “Point it up, Anna,” she says. “It will stop the bleeding.”
Anna, it seems, cannot fathom these instructions, so Rosie does it for her.
“She’ll need stitches,” Rosie says, confirming my initial thought. “I can drive her to the hospital—”
“I’ll do it,” Eric says. “We need you here, Rosie.”
He looks at me, then jerks his head in the direction of Luke and Anna. “So you still think they are better off together? That they’re in love?” He adds a nasty, monosyllabic scoff. I look at Anna and Luke, who are gazing vacantly into separate quadrants of the room, and I have to admit—right now, it’s hard to believe they’re in love.