When she received the sisters Fitzgerald’s letter that confirmed her suspicion of the cruelty her young son suffered, she became a machine. She no longer knew herself and was determined to end the whole charade. Stefán talked her out if it, reminding her that if the Falk family ever captured Rafe he would suffer far worse.
Then the intricate system of retrieving and delivering the pool’s resources almost collapsed. Ever since the 2010 eruptions of the volcano, Eyjafjallajökull, and the subsequent ash clouds that disrupted air space across western and northern Europe; its effect on the pool that holds the life-giving water has been devastating. It has been nearly dry for six years. Though Stefán and the others had prepared for such circumstances, the supplies grew low as their population increased. A few more innocents have stumbled upon the pool in much the same way Elísabet and Jon had. Stefán now regrets the extra phials he’d released to appease and occupy Clovis. He was never in any fear that the liquid or Rafe’s sweat could be replicated, but he agonizes that he has been wasteful.
It is long after midnight. The sky-watchers have grown weary from waiting for a multi-coloured sky that never appears. A four-wheel-drive jeep pulls up to the cottage. Elísabet hears Stefán’s keys in the locks.
‘Elísabet!’
‘In here.’
Stefán embraces her.
‘I don’t like putting the Fitzgeralds in danger, so many things could go wrong, but I think it’s the right decision. I can’t safely make the journey back to London if my long sleep is on schedule.’
Stefán does not respond, and Elísabet pulls back from him.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ she asks him.
‘Ask me what’s right. Ask me what has finally happened to make things right.’
‘I love you, but I’m tired, and in no mood for riddles.’
Stefán embraces her again. He’s warm, slightly fevered.
‘I’m just back from Copenhagen.’ He holds her firmly at arm’s length, as if he expects her to collapse. ‘Elísabet, there are no more Falks.’
‘No more Falks …’ she repeats, as if in a trance.
‘They have completely died out.’
Now it registers and her knees buckle.
‘Here, sit down, Elísabet.’
‘How do you know?’
He laughs. ‘How do I know? I’ve only been tracking them for almost two hundred years.’
‘I can’t believe it. We knew they were slowly dying out, but I thought … aren’t there two young cousins? Do you know what happened to them?’ She reasons breathlessly.
‘Iceland drowned them. There were four cousins, the photos … they were hunting in the east. Reindeer.’
‘Trophy hunting? You’re kidding.’
‘I’m not. And apparently, according to ICE-SAR, either one or two of them fell into a pool at the bottom of a deep ravine. SAR thinks that the other two died trying to rescue them. All four corpses were recovered and identified.’
‘And you’re positive they were the last of the line? What about any who’ve gone completely underground? There are no women?’
‘It’s possible, but no, none that we’ve discovered.’ He brushes her hair from her eyes. ‘We’ll need to remain vigilant for a while longer, and of course I’ll continue to search.’
‘Does this mean …’ She begins to pace. ‘Can I allow myself to think that …’
‘Yes, darling Elísabet. Yes. But first, we must deal with Clovis.’
There is no time for lovemaking tonight. Elísabet and Stefán begin making calls to the others in their group. Now it is time to unravel past deeds, time to shift whatever goodness is left in the world to those who deserve it.
LONDON & ICELAND
PRESENT DAY
CHAPTER SIXTY
Ava Fitzgerald eases out of the small driveway at Lawless House.
‘You really don’t need to come with us,’ Constance says. ‘It will ruin you if we’re caught travelling with fake passports.’
‘I will not allow my favourite aunts to go on such a mission alone. And anyway, yours are fake, not mine.’
‘Don’t you trust us?’
‘I trust you, but not the circumstances. Let’s go over the questions. What is our reason for visiting?’
‘We’re on holiday,’ the sisters answer, simultaneously.
‘Right. And how long are we staying?’
‘Ava. Everything is in hand. It will be all right.’ Constance puts on a show of confidence.
As the Audi hums down the M4, the sisters can’t quite believe they and their niece are leaving the country. Though they know the inevitable outcome, the sisters have formed a deep attachment to the long line of Fitzgeralds who have looked after them. With each of their deaths has come the brutal reminder that a natural lifespan is breathtakingly short. They are observers with a prison-like view, from where they repeatedly witness the life cycle of those they love, with all its promise, its countless choices and decisions, until one day, half a life is gone. There is something special about Ava. In the succession of male Fitzgeralds who had cared for them through the years no one had ever asked them what it was like to live for so long. Perhaps they were frightened, or even secretly repelled by the sisters’ reality. Not Ava. They had the distinct feeling that Ava would leap at the chance and embrace the condition if given a choice. They cannot bear to think of her impermanence. The sisters often speak of it in midnight whispers.
At check-in, the ticket agent asks Verity to remove her sunglasses, which rattles her a bit, but after she complies the first hurdle is completed without a hitch and the three women relax somewhat.
After they board, the sisters are quiet, disorientated by their first experience of air travel. The roar of the engines that will transport them to another country in merely hours flusters them. They hold hands like two children, noses to the window, drawn to the blanket of clouds and their first view of the earth from above.
Just
