Nine Perfect Strangers

chapter sixty-one

Napoleon

‘Who turned the lights out?’

It was his angriest teacher voice; the one that got even the worst-behaved boy in a class to sit down and shut up. They had agreed the lights would stay on.

‘Not me.’

‘Not me.’

‘Not me.’

The voices came from all around the room.

The darkness was so complete Napoleon instantly lost all sense of up and down. He held out his hands in front of him blindly, like he’d done this morning.

‘Is that you?’ It was Heather’s voice. She had been sitting next to him. He felt her hand take his.

‘Yes. Where’s Zoe?’

‘I’m here, Dad.’ Her voice came from the other side of the room.

‘None of us was near the light switch,’ said Tony.

Napoleon felt the rapid beat of his heart and took pleasure in his fear. It was a respite from the grey feeling that descended upon him the moment he woke up this morning. A thick fog had spread its soft fingers throughout his brain, his heart, his body, weighing him down so that it was an effort to speak, to lift his head, to walk. He was trying to pretend he was fine. He was fighting the fog with all his strength, trying to behave normally, to trick himself into getting better. It might be temporary. It might be just for today. Like a hangover. Tomorrow, perhaps, he would wake up and be himself again.

‘Maybe Masha is telling us it’s time to go to sleep now.’ It was Frances. He recognised her light, dry voice in the darkness. Before last night Napoleon would have said that he and Frances had similar personalities, in that they shared a certain base level of optimism, but not now. Now all his hope had drained away, it had seeped out of him and evaporated like sweat, leaving him empty and spent.

‘I’m not tired,’ said Lars. Or maybe Ben.

‘This is fucked.’ That was Ben. Or maybe Lars.

‘I think Masha is about to do something,’ said Jessica, he was pretty sure. She sounded more intelligent when you couldn’t see her face.

There was a moment of silence. Napoleon kept waiting for his eyes to adjust but they didn’t. No figures emerged. The dark seemed to get darker.

‘It’s a bit creepy,’ said Zoe, with a tremor in her voice, and Napoleon and Heather both moved reflexively, as if they could make their way through the darkness to get to her.

‘It’s just dark. We’re all here. You’re safe.’ That was definitely Smiley Hogburn, comforting Zoe.

Napoleon wished he could tell someone that he’d kind of played football with Smiley Hogburn. He realised the person he wished he could tell was himself, the self who no longer existed.

The darkness settled.

It was creepy.

‘Maybe Lars should sing,’ said Frances.

‘At last some appreciation for my talent,’ said Lars.

‘We should all sing,’ said Carmel.

‘No thanks,’ said Jessica.

‘You and me, Carmel,’ said Lars.

He began to sing ‘I Can See Clearly Now’ and Carmel joined in. She could sing beautifully. What a surprise to hear her voice rise in the darkness like that, holding the melody with such grace. How people could surprise you.