Disappearing into a tiny, dispersedcommunity of people all trying to live outside of the strictgovernment rules, using the fake IDs Reg, Elena and I had organisedfor her and Kir, was a piece of cake.
It’s a shame about Elena, you know, a realshame. I’ll miss her.
I didn’t hear from Varya for a whole weekafter she took off. Had the bloody cops on my doorstep daily, nothanks to Sebastian, who came in here damn near bashing down mydoor.
“Where’s my son?” he demanded, standing inthat cocky legs-spread, arms-tensed stance guys like him have.
I just blinked at him slowly a few timeswhile my brain caught up. I slotted all the puzzle pieces intoplace pretty quick-smart though. Took all the self-restraint I hadto not burst out laughing. Good for you, Var’. That’s what I wasthinking—good for you. I put on my best sweet-submissive-woman faceand asked him, “Are you okay, sir? What’s happened?” Like I had noidea, like I barely remembered who he was.
He didn’t believe me, of course, that Ididn’t know what he was talking about. I was a little hurt, I haveto say. I was putting on my best performance, after all.
A couple of times over the next day or so, Itried to head out and shake the cops who stalked me, but they weresticky bastards. I got as far as the corner store a couple blocksover before I gave up. Grabbed some snacks and headed back home towait.
It took a whole week.
Text message from an unknown number to myspecial, unregistered soirée client phone. It’s the old-fashionedkind, no data connection. A ‘dumb’ phone.
“Here are the coordinates if you care tojoin us. Be discreet and be certain. You won’t be able to goback.”
I grinned, then dismantled the phone andtook a hammer to the SIM card. You know, just in case. Can’t be toocareful.
Spent a few days tying up some loose ends. Istill had my time tab display stock, which I didn’t fancy trying tosmuggle out of the city with me. Moving a few tabs around the innersuburbs for wealthy clients was one thing, but driving them throughthe outer suburbs where I could be stopped for anything. Well,that’s something else entirely. Seemed a shame to just throw themout, though. Popped into the women’s refuge and donated the wholelot. You should have seen Lenny’s face: “I’ll have to get me somenew Georgette Heyer novels,” she told me. I told her it was thelast batch of tabs she’d probably ever get. “Spend them wisely,” Itold her. She smiled. “Maybe I should read a real classic romance,then. Like, you know, Twilight or something.” I just snortedand told her to scram before I changed my mind.
Okay, so there was just one loose end to tieup, really. What can I say? I live a simple life.
After that it was my turn to head east. Istill had to break into Varya’s apartment one last time, though, tograb my fake ID. Getting past the cops stationed outside wasn’teasy. Sebastian was always a bit delusional. He had to have knownshe wasn’t coming back—why bother with surveillance? But I got inthere eventually, found the shoebox, right where I’d left it. Justmy passport left in there, along with some spare cash. ‘EstellaRamirez’ is my new name. It means ‘star’. Elena’s idea, but I likeit.
With a bit of luck, Sebastian will havebought into Varya’s chattering about Canada and New Zealand and isputting out feelers to look for her and Kir there. I trust he’lleventually get distracted by an issue of great importance tonational security and leave off searching. He’ll accept the fatethat’s been handed to him and get on with the job. He’s done itbefore, after all.
We’re all happily settled out here in thesticks now. I won’t tell you where. Just picture us—Varya, Kir, Regand me—in a little town not far from the beach, knocking back a fewbottles of beer at sunset. Okay, so Reg and me knocking back beer.Varya’s more a mojito kinda gal and Kir loves his kiddie pineapplesangrias. Varya was right. They let old Reg off pretty quicklyafter they realised that whatever they threw at him would come backto bite the government.
You still can’t hold Varya back from work.Connor’s taken over running the Minor Miracles Foundationofficially, but paperwork and job titles never stopped Varya. Shespends a large chunk of each day in the back room with the fangoing, tapping away at her laptop. I have no idea what she’s doing.Research? Blackmailing rich people to raise funds? I know she’s intouch with Connor, though, and I know the Foundation’s stillpumping out cures regularly.
Reg and me, we look after Kir and share thecooking. Reg is kind of like the grandpa Kir never had, and itturns out he knew Elena better than any of us, so they have funtelling each other stories about Nanna, may she forever rest inpeace.
Kir will start school next year and then Ireally will get into my early retirement properly. Maybe I’ll takeup surfing.
In the meantime, I’d say we’re all prettyhappy down here. Life is slow and easy, and the views are fairlyspectacular. It feels like we’ve got all the time in the world,really.
Take care of yourself out there. And mayyour time be plentiful.
About theauthor
Rebecca Bowyer lives in Melbourne, Australia withher husband and two sons. She can be found writing about books,reading and writing at www.storyaddict.com.au.
Stealing Time is her second novel.
Connect withRebecca Bowyer:
Twitter: @rebeccabowyerau
Instagram: @rebeccabowyerwriter
Facebook: /rebeccabowyerwriter
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