The message arrived on Wesley’s phone when he was almost home. From Luke. He was almost too scared to open it.
did you nick it?
He stared at the words for a long moment, as if they were a code to decipher. What are you talking about?
the car got nicked. nobody else knew it was there. Tru is losing his shit
I swear, it wasn’t me. I can’t even drive!
It was a couple of minutes before a reply came. it won’t stop us. we’ll find another way.
Wesley started to type a response that further pled his innocence, but he realised it would only make him look guilty. Luke was wrong about one thing: there was one other person who could have known the car was there.
He turned away from home and hurried in the other direction.
*
Kat stood in the sitting room doorway as her dad slumped in front of the television, assignment papers littered across the carpet. The news was reporting on the trouble at the march.
‘It’s thought the attack was organised on the Facebook page of a far-right campaign group, with several posts calling for “retribution” against members of the march.’
Too tired to feel angry about it now. Instead she thought about what Safa had said. The world at large hadn’t noticed Kat’s absence, no, but she still didn’t know about her family. It wasn’t the first time Suzy had ignored her messages. She had seen less of Dad than usual, but he had tried to speak to her. There was nothing conclusive.
‘Niko Denton, a prominent figure in the so-called alt-right, has denied involvement.’
Since arriving home she had swaddled herself in dressing gown and gloves, doing everything she could to hide the condition of her flesh. She peeled it all away now, leaving nothing but the sleeveless T-shirt and shorts underneath.
‘Dad?’ she said.
When he didn’t respond, she forced herself to move closer.
‘Dad,’ she said. Not a question this time. A plea.
Eyes fixed on the TV, light reflecting in his glasses. Kat walked across the assignments, paper crackling under her feet like ice, until she was standing between him and the screen.
‘Please,’ she said, voice shaking now, the first hot tear streaking down her face.
His eyes focused, and her heart leapt, sure that he saw her. He stood, and Kat opened her arms, sure that he would embrace her. Instead, he turned towards the door.
‘Kat?’ he called over the noise of the television.
She darted in front of him. ‘Dad, I’m right here.’
He shouted her name again, moving into the doorway to listen for a response. When none came he started to panic, hurrying to check the kitchen before returning to the hall. They were both crying now, neither able to comfort the other.
‘Dad!’ she shouted, reaching for him, the barrier holding her at bay. He rushed past her and up the stairs to throw open her bedroom door, cast around desperately, and then checked every other room in the house. It was only when he returned downstairs that the energy fell out of him. He sagged against the wall, and Kat watched helplessly as he sobbed into his hands.
‘I’ve lost her. I’ve lost her.’
Something inside her broke, a rending as if her body would come apart. This was it, surely, the final straw that would complete the fade and make her disappear for good. She welcomed it. When she choked out another sob, found she was still there, she staggered past him, up the stairs and into her room.
Shuddering with tears, she tore the posters from the walls, tipped her books and films from the shelves and threw her collectibles to the floor, stamping it all under her feet. This had been everything Kat thought she was, and look what it had cost her. These last signifiers had to be destroyed.
She opened her computer and found the files for her video game. Highlighted them all. There wouldn’t be a chance to enter the game jam anyway. She might as well get rid of it now.
Delete. The files – countless hours of work – disappeared.
Cold fingers raised goosebumps on her skin, nerves still responding to her touch. She opened her phone camera, held it at arm’s length and took a selfie.
There was no way to measure, no scale she could use to judge, but the photo made it clear: she was more faded than this morning. The colour of her skin had thinned, the shape of her body leaving less of an impression on the empty shelves, the newly bared walls that pushed through her from behind.
Stepping into another life had refined Kat’s decline.
Heart drumming against her ribs, she remembered how whole she had been inside the boy. That must have taken something from her – joining with another person, even so briefly, had accelerated the fade.
Yet she didn’t regret doing it. Safa was right: it was everything she had ever wanted.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang.
There was a light on in the house, and it gave Wesley the courage to walk to the front door and ring the bell. He didn’t know what he would say, even when a shape grew larger in the foggy glass and the door opened, spilling warmth into the night.
‘Hi, Mr Waldgrave,’ he said. ‘Is—?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kat’s dad, voice shaking, his face wet with tears. He backed away into the hall and slid down the wall to bury his face in his knees. Wesley edged uncertainly past and went upstairs alone.
The landing was dark, and he edged his way along to Kat’s bedroom door. The shock of the room’s destruction made him halt at the threshold. Books and DVDs littered the floor, shreds of posters clinging to the walls. The desk chair lay on its side, and an action figure crunched underfoot as he moved to right it. Her MacBook was open, screen aglow.
‘You’re here,’ Wesley said, certain that it was true.
The only thing in the room apparently undisturbed was a small pile of sand-coloured gravel on the desk. He scooped it up and let the familiar stones play through his fingers. Gravel from the track that led to TrumourPixel’s garage.
‘And you were there,’ he said, turning a slow circle to gaze around the room, hoping he might catch her in the peripheries of his vision. ‘You stole the car. You’re trying to stop them.’
If there was a response, he didn’t hear it.
‘I know it’s weird I’m here, I just . . .’
Missed you. He couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.
The TV downstairs was loud enough to push through the ceiling, words too muffled to make out. Wesley forced a smile, hoped it didn’t make him look insane.
‘I needed somebody to talk to.’
He sat on the edge of the bed, leaving enough space that she could sit beside him, if she wanted.
*
Kat stayed by the door, as far from him as she could get. She had been frightened when she first found him there – her harasser, apparently able to enter her bedroom whenever he wanted – but with every word he spoke that fear was displaced by anger.
‘I’ve got involved with some people I shouldn’t have,’ Wesley said, looking at his hands.
‘You definitely shouldn’t have, because they’re Nazis,’ answered Kat, even though she knew he wouldn’t hear it.
‘But it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Stealing the car hasn’t stopped them, but we can do it together.’
Kat laughed bitterly. ‘Together?’
‘I’ve been trying to find out what happened to Aaron Musley, the boy who disappeared before you,’ said Wesley, speaking to the empty space beside him on the bed. ‘I think he was trying to save himself from the fade by finding some connection to the world – something to live for. Maybe if you save Tinker . . . it might be enough to stop whatever is happening to you.’
Kat moved slowly to stand in front of him, stepping carefully across the debris of her life. There was that tug again, the yearning to slip inside his body. Except she didn’t need that to know his true thoughts better than he did.
‘You might know already, but I think you can . . . go inside people while you’re fading. Temporarily.’ He spoke as if the idea both thrilled and appalled him. ‘Maybe if you can possess one of them or whatever when they attack Tinker, make them crash the car or let her get away. I don’t really know how it works.’
‘No, you really don’t,’ said Kat. Still, she wondered. Admitting he could be right meant admitting she needed him, and that made her sick. If it meant saving Tinker, she would have to swallow her pride.
Could it really save her? She looked around at the destruction of her room and knew she wanted to try.
‘I won’t do this for you,’ she said to Wesley. ‘I’ll do it for Tinker. I’ll do it so I can make it all up to Dad. I’ll do it for myself.’
‘Follow me to school tomorrow,’ said Wesley, oblivious. ‘I’ll confront Luke and Justin, convince them I want to help, and find out exactly what they’re planning. You’ll hear it all and they’ll never know. I’ll be like a double agent. This is the only way I can give you inside information.’
‘You’re not giving me anything!’ she shouted. ‘If you really cared you would call the police and put a stop to this right now. I do need you, but not as much as you need me. I’m the only way you can stay friendly with your MRA mates without having to do the dirty work. You’re not being brave. You’re a coward.’
The look of determination, of triumph on Wesley’s face as he scribbled his address on a scrap piece of paper made her want to reverse the fade just so she could smack him. How could he be so deluded and lost to convince himself he was doing the right thing? She lifted a hand towards him. One step, a moment of surrender to that seductive pull, and she could see for herself.
No. She stepped away at the same moment that Wesley got to his feet.
‘There’s somebody else we want to find to ask about Aaron. A girl,’ he said. ‘But we don’t know who she is. It must have been somebody he was close to – a friend or a girlfriend . . .’
Kat remembered what Safa had told her a couple of nights ago. She didn’t want to help him, but it was clear now that the fade was accelerating. If he could find out more about what happened to Aaron, it might help her cling to herself for a little longer. She crossed the room to her laptop and began to type.
The light from the MacBook screen changed as Wesley moved to the door. Before it had simply been on the desktop, but when he returned to the desk an Instagram profile was waiting for him. A familiar young woman represented by a grid of selfies and modelling shots. The name at the top almost made him choke.
The girl who had come looking for Aaron, who he must have visited before the end.
‘Selena Jensen.’
As soon as he was gone, Kat took out her phone and began writing a message to Safa.
You won’t believe what just . . .
She stopped typing, staring at the blinking cursor. They had only just left each other, and already Kat missed her. She couldn’t remember the last time she simply had to tell somebody something. She couldn’t remember the last time she had somebody to tell.
And she had already lost her.
*
Wesley messaged Aoife on the walk home.
It’s Selena. The girl who was looking for Aaron. He included the link to her Instagram profile.
Seriously?! came the reply. There’s no way she’ll agree to meet us.
She might if you mention Aaron’s name.
Okay, I’ll try! She signed off with a fingers-crossed emoji.
Wesley got home to find Dave playing with Evie in their room, shouts and giggles filling the flat, while Mum reclined on the short sofa with a damp cloth draped across her forehead. He felt like an actor walking onstage during the wrong scene.
‘Rough day?’ he asked, sitting across from her in the armchair.
Mum groaned as she levered herself upright. ‘I took Evie to see that new Disney movie. They’re so bright they always give me a headache. You could have come but I didn’t know where you were. Evie was going nuts being cooped up here.’
‘It’s all right.’ A thousand repeat viewings of Frozen had put him off Disney for ever. He looked around the bare walls of the front room, the tables with nothing on them but coasters and junk mail. ‘Why don’t we have any family photos out?’
Mum removed the flannel. ‘We never have.’
‘Yeah, but why?’
‘I guess I got out of the habit of putting them up because we were in friends’ houses,’ she said. ‘Plus most of the photos we’ve got have Jordan and your dad in them.’
‘It’s like you’re ashamed of the family we are now,’ Wesley said.
‘Of course not.’ She patted the seat beside her, and he crossed to sit, letting her put an arm around him. ‘I don’t have a good reason for the photos, Wesley. But I’m proud of this family. We’ve been through a lot, and we’re still here.’
He nodded, allowing himself to sink into her embrace. It made him feel like a child, and for once he was glad of it.
‘I know there’s been a lot going on, and I should have spoken to you about it sooner,’ said Mum. ‘Is there anything you want to talk about?’
The family was still there, after everything that had happened. They had clung on, but Wesley wanted to do more than that. He hated that the only way it could happen was to let somebody else take his place.
There was a lot more change to come. He had to show her that he was strong.
‘I’m okay,’ he said, choking down everything else he wanted to say. ‘We should take some new family photos.’
‘Of course,’ said Mum. ‘What’s brought all this on, anyway?’
‘I just think it’s important that we keep memories,’ he said. So even if he did lose his place here, there would always be something to remember it by.