I make a space for him and he shimmies on to it and somehow I fit like a piece from a missing puzzle into the crook of his arm.

Her body feels warm as we

drip dry.

And, lying together, we talk.

About Mum and Dad. Cecelia’s new climbing club.

We each remember Wesley – his bike and his classes.

I ask him about art school, and he tells me about one he’s found in his dad’s town – a course entirely on street art. And I watch as his fingers seem to hold invisible paintbrushes as he speaks.

She tells me about

people she’s found.

People who watch others live

from cameras strapped to their chests.

Just like her.

‘Have you spoken to them?’ I ask.

I listen as his words rumble inside his chest.

‘Not really. Not yet. I asked if anyone streamed from their bed, you know, as there were so many of them watching. But they said they didn’t. And that maybe I should.’

‘Now that’s a stream

I’d like to watch,’ I say.

We talk and talk. And then, slowly, he talks and I listen to his heart beating. Beating.

‘Alice?’ I say.

She doesn’t reply and I sit up,

turning so I can see her smiling,

but looking almost the same

as when she slipped away from me

in the playground.

‘Shit,’ I say. ‘Should I call your mum?’

I shake my head, because that means it’s over.

This.

And I don’t want it to be. I don’t.

I lick my lips. ‘I forgot,’ I whisper. ‘There’s a toy. For Jonah …’

I follow her finger to under the lounger

and find a wind-up dinosaur

from a Happy Meal.

I smile.

‘He’ll love it,’ I say.

Although I already know

I’m keeping it for myself.

I smile and hold his hand.

‘This has been. Wonderful.’

My insides liquefy.

I lean over.

Kiss her on the head.

‘You are. Wonderful.’

We are. Both.

But my words are gone and I know he can see them emptying.

He pulls on his T-shirt. Looks at me for a moment more, all to himself.

And I want to say something to make him keep looking at me like that.

But this was just one

perfect day

in a wonderfully imperfect life.

I tell her that

I’m going to make myself into something

worthy of the person

she thinks she sees in me.

That one day

I’ll come back.

Or that maybe

she’ll come forward.

Or we’ll meet in the middle and

create a whole new world.

I tell her everything as I lift her.

Open the door, where her family

are waiting.

The door to the beach opens.

The real world sinks back in. And I look up for just one moment more. At his eyes.

Before I

let

them

go.

84

Alice

It’s nearly time.