Soul Storm (21 page)

Passport, sunglasses, SPF 25.

But what else do I take on my ‘holiday’? Trashy paperbacks, strappy sandals, a barely-there dress to show off my tropical tan?

No. There will be no moonlit walks or dinners for two.

I pack just before midnight on Monday, laying out the things I need next to my backpack. T-shirts, shorts, the blue silky scrunch-up dress I always wear at night in hot countries. That’s
all I’m taking. It might look a bit obvious if I leave the house tomorrow for a ‘sleepover’ at Cara’s with a crammed suitcase and a straw hat.

By the time my parents realise I’m not watching old rom-coms in my pyjamas on Cara’s cinema surround-sound system, Lewis and I should be safely in Thailand and headed for the Beach.
Yes, there’ll be war, and poor Cara will be in the firing line, but she just laughed when I told her I was worried about what will happen to her when they find out.

‘It’ll blow over – and it’ll be worth it if you’re happy again. Just promise me that if I end up grounded, you’ll find a way to tunnel me out.’

With luck, we’ll have thirty-six hours in Thailand before anyone realises. Long enough to try one last time to discover the secrets behind Soul Beach.

I can’t bring myself to consider what happens if we don’t.

The plan goes flawlessly. Mum waves me off when Cara picks me up, and I try to look laid back, even though I’m feeling like total crap for lying to her yet again. Then
Lewis arrives at Cara’s looking every bit the international business traveller. New sunglasses, a white shirt and his usual jeans swapped for go-anywhere chinos.

He pushes the down button on the lift. ‘Ready?’

Suddenly I’m nervous. My first holiday with a man. I never imagined it would go like this.

‘Ali, what is it?’

I fiddle with the strap on my backpack. ‘Bit edgy, I guess.’

‘Look, everything is going to be OK. The flights are on time. We’ve got a decent place to stay, separate rooms, of course, so we’ve both got privacy but I’ll be close by
you when you need me.’

‘Why, though?’

‘Why what?’

‘Why do all this for me, Lewis? Time.
Money.
I’ll pay you back for the flights and everything but, at my current allowance, I’ll be in debt till 2050.’

He hesitates, then smiles. ‘Just call me a Good Samaritan. Or maybe I was terrible in a previous life and want to make up for it now.’

‘But—’

‘Ali. I hate to come over all big brother-ish but do you want to know something I’ve learned as an old fogey?’

I sigh. ‘Not really, but I bet you’re going to tell me anyway.’

‘You don’t have to question absolutely everything in life. Sometimes if nice stuff happens, you should just accept it for what it is.’

Lewis pulls out of the car park and I can see Cara waving from her balcony. As I wave back through the car window, I realise that’s probably why my heart’s beating so fast.

Nice things happen to me so rarely that when they do, I can’t help feeling they won’t last. That this is only happening to me to trick me into relaxing, before something else goes
terribly wrong.

But nice things
keep
happening. At the airport, a uniformed chauffeur is already waiting to drive Lewis’s car to a secure compound, while another guy takes our
bags without being asked.

We follow him into the terminal and I’m ashamed of my shabby bag, which looks even shabbier next to the matt black trolley case Lewis has brought. Part of me is expecting a firm hand on my
shoulder, a challenge from security.
You’re not meant to be here, are you? Should you be travelling without your parents?

At check-in, I hold my breath, waiting for them to make a fuss about my age. Lewis watches my face as the woman hands me the boarding pass. ‘The privilege lounge is open now, on the first
floor. Enjoy your flight, Miss Forster.’

I look down at the ticket.
‘Business
class?’

He shrugs. ‘I had some frequent flyer points going spare.’

‘But doesn’t business cost thousands and thousands?’

‘Which part of
don’t question absolutely everything
did you not understand, Alice? Besides, we need to arrive fighting fit, ready for whatever is at the other end. I can
never sleep in economy.’

As we go through the VIP security line, I realise this is what life must always have been like for Danny – and what it could have been like for my sister, too, if she’d become the
star she was destined to be. It makes me feel guilty that all this is happening because they died.

Yet I’ve hardly been unscathed. At least once I’m through security, I can stop worrying about Sahara for a while. Worrying about any of it, in fact. During the flight, I have to try
to switch off.

I’ve done what I can for Danny, for now. I’ve decided if the letter I posted doesn’t get through, I
will
write another and another, until one does.

The security guard hands me back my backpack. ‘Have a great flight, Miss Forster. The privilege lounge is to your right.’

I imagine Meggie’s voice: ‘Go for it, little sis. Make the most of this. I want to hear every detail afterwards.’

The lounge
is
amazing. Everything is cream or stone-coloured, so at first my still-sore eyes see it as a single blur. But then I notice the different textures: soft leather seats, cool
marble floors and long glass counters loaded with treats and drinks.

Lewis hands me a fresh orange juice in a crystal tumbler. ‘Best not to drink alcohol before a long-haul flight. Oh, I’ve put your name down for a neck and shoulder massage, Ali, but
you could swap it for something girly like a manicure if you want.’

‘No, a massage will be fine. More than fine.’

We find a snug corner with two round leather sofas – they’re daybeds, Lewis says – facing the runway. You can’t sit upright on them, they’re too squidgy, so I
stretch my legs out and wish I’d worn something smarter than this old linen skirt which is already creased.

I’m the youngest person in here. Lewis comes a close second. Everyone else is ten years older, at least. They’re frowning at laptops or growling into their phones. You can’t
hear exactly what they’re saying, but they sound angry. No one gazes dreamily out of the window or smiles when the staff bring them a cocktail or a glass of champagne.

‘I don’t want to be like them when I grow up, Alice,’ Lewis whispers.

I laugh. He’s already pretty grown-up: he has his own company, a car that makes people point in the street, a set of monogrammed luggage that probably cost the same as three years of fees
if I ever make it to university. But I get what he means. They all look so bloody miserable, whereas Lewis doesn’t mind showing that he’s excited to be here, even though any kind of
excitement is
unprofessional.

He takes out his laptop. ‘Everything’s on schedule. We change planes in Bangkok, and should be in Phuket in approximately seventeen hours’ time. Then we’ll rest after the
journey and head for the islands after that. It’s possible . . .’ he looks at me, ‘. . . that we could have the answer in less than twenty-four hours. Are you ready?’

Am I?
Perhaps I won’t know till it happens. The more terrifying thought is that
nothing
might happen, that the beach isn’t
my
Beach. Even if it is, there
might be no miracle, no sudden revelation.

It could all be over.

‘As ready as I’ll ever be. What do you think we’re going to find, Lewis?’

He looks at me. ‘I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But at least that’ll be an ending, of sorts, eh? Knowing you’ve done absolutely everything humanly possible.’

I smile, even though I know it’s not enough just to try. I won’t be able to rest until I’ve set my sister free, even if it takes the rest of my life.

However long or short my life might turn out to be.

We board first because we’re flying business. There’s even a special entrance, so we don’t have to queue with the economy passengers. It feels unreal,
especially after the best shoulder massage ever in the lounge.

I remember our last flight – back from Barcelona after Zoe was hurt. Moments before I got onto the plane, I’d realised the killer
had
to be Sahara. And when I got on board,
she’d saved me a place. We were crammed together in those tiny seats. It was the longest two hours of my life.

‘How the other half live.’ Lewis smiles at me and helps me step into the plane. Perhaps he realises I’m afraid.

I smile back, but I’m actually thinking: what happens when the other half
die
?

This time, our seats are more like leather armchairs placed in pods opposite one another, with video screens and pillows. When we get on board, the Thai attendant gives us hot towels and offers
Lewis champagne, but not me; I suppose because she already knows my age.

Lewis simply takes two glasses and then gives one to me and the attendant winks at us both.

‘I thought we weren’t supposed to drink before a flight!’

‘Champagne doesn’t count. Plus, it’d be good to get some sleep.’

He holds his glass up to mine, but I hesitate.

‘What are we supposed to toast to?’

‘Closure?’ he suggests.

The bubbles are soft and cool in my mouth and the excitement spreads through my bloodstream. I don’t suppose I’ll ever fly business class again. Plus I’ve never travelled
further than Greece. Thailand is supposed to be one of the most beautiful places on earth – with the most beautiful women, judging from the flight attendant. She has the tiniest figure and
incredibly delicate features, yet Lewis doesn’t seem to have noticed her. He’s doing his best to keep me entertained, showing me the movie guide and the menus for the three gourmet
meals we’ll be served between take-off and landing.

‘Time to turn off your phones or other electronic devices, please, Miss Forster and Mr Tomlinson.’

Lewis pulls a face when she’s moved on to the next passengers. ‘It’s like losing a limb.’ But he switches off his iPhone and stows it in one of the many leather pockets
that surround his recliner.

I take out my phone. There’s a text from Cara:
Take care, best friend. Don’t know what it is u have to do but come back safe. C xxxxx

And just as I go to push the power button off, a new text pops up:
Hope u r having fun with Cara, sweetheart. Fun is what u deserve. C u tomorrow, luv
mum

My mum’s sweet text language makes my breath catch in my throat. How could I lie to her like this? She’ll be devastated when she finds out what I’ve done.

‘Ali?’

Lewis reaches to take my phone and turns it off for me.

I make a silent promise that this trip is the last time I’ll deceive her, so as the plane taxis to the runway, I’m planning to become the perfect daughter. I’ll be obedient and
loving and never complain – and I’ll even go to Olav three times a week, until he has no choice but to admit I am the sanest, happiest person he’s ever counselled.

OK, maybe not the happiest. That would mean forgetting Meggie.

But certainly the girl who makes the most of every second in her charmed life.

The flight puts me in a strange state of suspended animation. We do nothing for ourselves: food is cooked, movies are streamed, hot towels and even duvets are brought for us.
I’m pretty sure the attendant would tuck me up and tell me a bedtime story if I hit the call button now.

But when the cabin lights dim and the world outside does too, it gives me too much time to think about that question: what happens if this fails?

Even stranger, what happens if this succeeds?

I do sleep, but never for long. I dream that I’m picked up by the wind and it’s throwing me through the air, and I’m falling fast and hard, unrestrained.

Lewis catches me. He’s holding a parachute, but the strings are all tangled and the chute isn’t opening and someone is cutting through the cords—

I wake suddenly and realise the plane is bumping through pockets of cloud. I guess even business-class passengers aren’t immune to turbulence.

In the luxurious gloom, I watch Lewis, close enough to see him despite my sore eyes. He’s sleeping. His glasses are tucked into his shirt pocket and his lips are slightly parted as he
breathes. Funny how I never used to realise why women fancied him; I see it now. He’s handsome, just not in a conventional way. More so when he sleeps.

It’s strange to be this close to him while he’s somewhere else.

Sleeping with him.

I blush and look away. What a ridiculous thing to think.

And yet . . . we are spending the night together. I never thought my first night with a man I love would be quite like this.

Love?

How mad is that? I don’t
love
Lewis – do I? Not in that way, anyway. He’s done all these amazing things for me, so of course I have feelings for him. Without him, my
life would be—

‘Penny for them, Alice. . .’

I jump. ‘How long have you been awake?’

Lewis smiles a faraway smile. His hair’s standing on end against the pillow. ‘Not long. But time’s different up here, isn’t it? Sometimes when I’m flying I’d
like it to go on forever.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s a freedom about being offline. No calls. No emails. Nothing to fix.’

‘I can’t believe
you’d
think that, Professor.’

‘I’m absolutely serious. They’re talking about letting people use their phones on planes. Can you imagine anything worse than being behind one of these guys shouting
instructions at their PA for fourteen hours?’

I look round the cabin. It
is
pretty much all guys – the same ones who spent an hour in the business lounge being bad-tempered. Or even if they’re not the same ones, they
might as well be.

‘Awful,’ I agree.

‘If that happens, I might have to book a one-way ticket to the moon. At least there’s no 3G signal there yet.’

‘But you make your whole living online.’