Chapter 9
It was late and Michael was thinking of calling it a day. Everyone else had gone home at least two hours ago and the night porters had started their shift. He pressed the send button on his last e-mail and switched off the computer. In the eerie silence of the empty office, he took of his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
Anna had been right, it had all gone pear-shaped, in so many ways, not only between them. The Rochesters, for example, had simply disappeared one night, following Alastair's decision not to fund Jane's studies. No news of them had emerged and he kept worrying what had become of them. Alastair's extractions had lost all reason. Two weeks ago there had been a brief panic spreading across the internet when thousands of people around the world had found their copies of Gone With the Wind wiped blank. Michael had quickly established that this was due to Alastair's wish to have dinner with Scarlett O'Hara. Fortunately, books and films had restored themselves as if by magic after he had sent the lady back. The internet then decided that it had all been a case of mass hysteria or else an elaborate hoax, and the people who had witnessed the phenomenon first hand were quickly shouted down as attention-seeking jerks.
The incident had been a stern warning of what might happen if they weren't' careful. Apart from the danger of discovery by an outside world that might be less than pleased to find out about Chrysalis's endeavours, there was the potential threat of pulling a character that would be beyond their control. Draco Malfoy had proved precarious in that respect, because even without his wand he had powers and abilities that gave them trouble. In the end, even Alastair had agreed to send Draco back. But there was no telling whom he might fix on next. Michael had taken to carrying a stun gun, just in case.
Not only did he feel threatened at Chrysalis Beta these days, he also felt lonely. Kate had left, Richard had left, and Justin and Fran and, of course, Anna. Few of the original staff remained. Some days he and Leanne felt like survivors from a different century. Perhaps he should follow the others and leave Alastair to his own devices.
He looked up. At first he thought the voice came from the floor above where the collection of Austenite spinsters and frustrated wives resided, but then he realised that it came from the Chrysalis room. As he jogged down the corridor, he could make out words.
"No, Michael, no! Leave me alone! MICHAEL! Help, help! HELP!"
With shaking fingers, Michael punched the security code into the keypad. The door opened. He held his stun gun at the ready.
Alastair lay on the floor in a spreading puddle of blood. Michael tried to assess whether the man was alive or dead but rising nausea suddenly demanded all his attention. And then he saw the zombie lurching out from behind the machine and he understood why Alastair had shouted Michael. He pulled the trigger.
oOoOo
"Well, it shows its age a bit, but it's still pretty good, don't you think?" said Charlotte as the closing credits rolled. "Watch the next episode?"
"Okay." Anna would have preferred not to, but it was Charlotte's house, and Charlotte was so pleased with her charity shop find, and Anna didn't really want to explain why she'd rather not watch it. So she leaned back on the sofa, kept her wine glass close and endured Guy's rages and humiliations. She kept telling herself that she had freed him from all this, but it was still hard to have it shoved into her face again.
"He's a nasty piece of work, but I kind of get the hots for him," said Charlotte as Guy accused Jennet of Elsdon of witchcraft. "Does that make me some kind of weirdo, in your professional opinion?"
Anna shrugged. There was no malice involved on Charlotte's part, since she was entirely ignorant of Chrysalis and all its complications. She only knew that Anna worked in counselling and wasn't supposed to talk about her cases. Anna hadn't even told her that she had a new job; she was contented to let her friend believe that this was the job she'd always had. She had no intention to discuss Guy with her.
Seeing him on screen had a strange surreal feel to it. It was something she had studiously avoided all these months. His anguish affected her as if it were happening now. Wherever he might be, she hoped he was happy. Tomorrow, she resolved, she would make another attempt at tracking him down.
Her phone vibrated to alert her to a text message. She checked it, casually holding it in her left hand. Then she dropped her wine glass. It shattered on the wooden floor.
"Oh, my god!"
"What?" Charlotte looked round. "Oh, don't worry, it's an old glass."
"It's not that." Anna stared at the phone in horror. "Something terrible has happened."
oOoOo
They were at Tommy's place for a change. Rupert dozed on a cushion by the window. The telly showed some football match but Guy had no real interest in watching other people at the game. He scanned the room, taking the opportunity to learn a little more about how a 21st century bachelor was expected to live. For example, Tommy had no curtains on his windows, only blinds. Guy wondered whether anyone considered him effeminate on account of the sunflower curtains Fran had picked for him. Also whether, if someone were indeed to tell him that they were not manly, he would be willing to change them.
"What's this?" He picked up a large, thin book. Asking Tommy things was relatively safe, because Tommy had accepted without question Guy's story that he had grown up on a missionary station in sub-Saharan Africa and still felt disorientated in modern Britain.
"What? Oh, that's a phone directory. It's a bit last century, but lots of people still have their number and address listed in it."
"It tells you where people live?"
"If they have their address put in. Most people just put the phone number."
"You mean this has been here all the time and you didn't tell me?"
"How was I to know you wanted a phone book?"
Guy began to flick through the pages. "How do you find people?"
"They're listed alphabetically."
"Hm." He turned to the A section and scanned the columns. After a while he tried S.
"What does this mean?"
Tommy looked over his shoulder to where Guy was pointing. "Sinclair, Dr A, 36b Lbrn Dr. You know where Laburnum Drive is, up by the fire station? Number 18 bus takes you there. But if you need a doctor, there's the health centre just round the corner."
"I don't need a doctor," said Guy. "I need a bus timetable. And some advice about women."
oOoOo
When Anna opened the door, the first thing she saw was an enormous bunch of pink carnations. Then a big black dog nearly knocked her over, barking excitedly.
"My god, it's Rupert! He's grown so big!" She checked quickly and yes, it was Guy's face nearly hidden behind all those flowers.
"These are for you," he said and held out the bouquet. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry, why?"
"Because it's just flowers."
"But I love flowers."
"Well, yes, but…" He smiled awkwardly. "I asked a friend for advice what to get you and he said, all women like flowers so it's a safe option, but it's also unimaginative. He said I should find something more individual, to show that I appreciate you as a unique person. And then I couldn't think of anything. Because all the time we spent together, it was all about me and I failed to get to know you for real. And I'm sorry I was so self-centred and – why are you crying?"
Anna had clamped her hand over her mouth and was blinking away tears.
"You don't even realise what you just did, do you?"
"No." He looked at her, alarmed. "What have I done?"
She lowered her hand and smiled. "You'd better come in."
He followed her into the sitting room, where she placed him on the sofa, glad that she'd tidied up a bit before she left for work that morning. There were no biscuits in the house, but she found a packet of dry roasted peanuts which she poured out into a bowl. It seemed too early in the day for wine, so she made coffee. Two sugars for Guy. She remembered that.
"Tell me how you've been," she said as she settled down beside him. "I hear you're not at the market garden anymore. Didn't you like it?"
"I liked it well enough, but something else came along. I repair bicycles now. At the cycle shop opposite the train station. Apparently I have a talent for it. My boss says I'm a natural mechanic. It was pleasant to find out that I'm good at something."
"I bet it was. And you've made a friend, too."
He grinned. "Three friends!"
"I am awed! Do you want to tell me?"
"I've followed all your advice. I've taken up a sport, football, and that's how I got to know Tommy. And I made two other friends, Sean and Catriona. I met them at the dog shelter; I help out there most weekends. There's another thing, too, but that's a secret for now."
"Oooh?"
"A surprise. For some other time."
"I'm intrigued." Maybe he had entered a baking competition. "So…"
The pause in the conversation could have been awkward, but fortunately Rupert was there, wagging his tail at Anna and licking her hands, knees and feet. Eventually, Guy got him to settle down on the rug.
"I found your address only yesterday. I've been to Chrysalis Beta to see you," he said. "About three months ago. They told me you weren't there."
"I left. I work for an ordinary counselling service now. And I've pretty much given up academia and any hope of ever publishing my paper."
"What made you leave?"
"I fell out with Michael."
He nodded as if that was somehow inevitable. "What about the others? Justin, Fran …?"
"I don't see them these days. Talk to them on Facebook sometimes. They were as shocked as I –" She stopped herself, but too late.
"Shocked at what?"
Anna sighed. She might as well tell him. "You know, it's not true what I just said. About falling out with Michael. I mean, I did, after a fashion, but the real problem was Alastair."
"The man who gets to play God?"
"Yes. He'd gone off the rail. Pulling characters he shouldn't have pulled. You see, when Chrysalis was set up, there were very strict rules about who you could pull. Nobody who dies in the source material, because you can only pull them after their story is finished. Otherwise you'd mess up their story. Nobody who could be a danger to the public, and absolutely nobody non-human and nobody with supernatural powers. Those were technical reasons, so to speak. And then there was an ethical principle, namely that we would only pull people who would benefit from our intervention. That had been established by old Mr Fotheringham, and Michael and I always completely believed in it. Now Alastair had made some dodgy choices early on, but a few months ago he went kind of mad. He threw all rules to the wind and pulled whoever he fancied. It scared the shit out of me. I had a big row with Michael, because I wanted to do something to stop him, but Michael was just afraid to lose his job. So I wondered what I could do on my own. My first thought was to sabotage the machine somehow, but I didn't really have a clue how. I mean, I didn't even have security clearance for the Chrysalis room and I'm really not an action movie heroine. Anyway, he could have just had a new one built. So then I considered going to the police. They would have been interested in it for public safety's sake, and also because of the forged papers. But that was exactly why I didn't do it. I thought they would go and check for any people who'd come through Chrysalis, and then they would hunt you down. So in the end I just walked out. Kate Howard had already gone by that time. Justin and Fran left not much later."
"And Alastair is still pulling people?"
"No." Anna's face grew grim. "Alastair is dead. He was killed. He pulled one too many."
"What happened?"
"You know the Thriller video?"
"The Michael Jackson one? With the zombies?"
"Yes. Not a nice way to die, I imagine."
Guy exhaled loudly and shook his head. "When was this?"
"About five weeks ago? Maybe six. After that, Michael was so spooked that he sent everybody back who was still based at Chrysalis. Only you and the Rochesters are still here, though heaven knows where they've gone. They ran away, you know. Stupidly, we never tagged them. And there is a police investigation under way, so we'd better pray that we won't be found out. At least Michael is not under any suspicion. Because there were clear bite marks and they don't match his teeth, or something like that. And he managed to delete most of the files before they came. But still…"
"How do you know all this?"
"Michael texted me right after it happened. We met up and he told me all about it."
"So you're still talking to each other anyway?"
"We didn't fall out that badly. Just … oh, it's complicated."
Another stretch of silence was masked by patting Rupert's head and sipping away at the coffee.
"I've missed you," Guy said at last.
"I've missed you too." Which was true enough, but Anna felt uncomfortable admitting it. She had so longed to see him, and yet now he was here, she only felt embarrassed and deflated. No doubt it was because of the terrible business at Chrysalis Beta. She put her mug down and feigned surprise at seeing the clock.
"Is it that late? Honey, I've not got much time; I'm meeting with my friend Charlotte tonight and I still need to get showered and all."
"Okay." He rose from the sofa, slowly and with a pensive expression on his face. "I'd better go then."
Anna nodded in relief.
"It was lovely to see you. Thanks for the flowers. I hope to see you again soon." And then she practically shoved him out the door.
