Frazer Lee - The Lamplighters

“You were running a book on me?” asked Marla, incredulous.

“We sure were. In case you hadn’t noticed, which obviously you didn’t, us old timers went totally cabin a few months back. Wait and see, you’ll be placing bets on all kinds of things soon. One of the oldest forms of entertainment known to humanity, especially for sexy young human beings like us who are stuck on a rock without music, TV or books to keep them occupied!”

“I see. Well, maybe there’s an opportunity for me here. I’ll write the bloody books, then you and the Italian Stallion can read them…”

“Awesome. I like that plan.”

“For a fee.”

“Not awesome. See? You’re settling right in.”

Marla laughed. Finally some of the tension was dissipating. She had been taking herself far too seriously these past few days.

“Does it get any easier? The isolation, I mean.” There was an upward curve to her voice as she mouthed the question. It ended on a hopeful note.

“No. Not really.”

Marla’s face fell again, hope shattered.

Jessie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Look, you just have to be creative about how you spend your time. That’s all.”

“I did have a long walk over to the beach, met Pietro at his place, it was really lovely.”

“Yes, I saw him yesterday too. He said he’d met you. Listen, you’re a big girl Marla, so I don’t need to tell you to be careful of that one. Hey, was he complaining about not being allowed to go swimming in the sea again?”

Marla nodded.

“Oh I wish he’d change the damn record.”

“It’s his passion though, isn’t it?”

Jessie scoffed. “One of them, maybe.” Her smile shrank. “But anyway, the lovely island walks, they soon get old.”

“I really can’t imagine that.”

“Oh, you can’t imagine it now. Just like you couldn’t imagine booking into the Cabin Fever Motel when you first arrived here—trust me, everything reaches boredom point here. The question is; what can we do about it? What can we possibly do to liven things up around here?”

She looked pointedly at Marla, who was now feeling like a school kid who’d been caught staring out of the window. Her mouth fell open, dumbly.

“Secret party. That’s how.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“That’s how we liven things up. With a fucking party. And you dear—well, I need your help to pull it off. How’s your yoga?”

“My yoga?”

“Yeah. Ever indulged?”

“No, well I went to a pilates class once, but…”

“Follow me, look and learn. Come on, the lawn awaits.”

Marla plummeted towards the ground again, as her belly dipped causing her legs to give way. As her outstretched palms skidded across the grass, she tried to twist her head to one side and ended up rolling onto a garden sprinkler. Arching her back and sitting up painfully, Marla rubbed her lower back with one hand. It was very tender where she’d pivoted onto the sprinkler valve. Both her hands were stained green from the grass and began to sting furiously with friction burning. Yoga, it seemed, was not very relaxing.

The complicated move that Jessie had assured her was “beginner-level stuff” was called “Downward Dog”. Marla honestly thought “Collapsing Cow” would be more apt a description. Jessie did too, clearly, as she spent the next five minutes rolling around with laughter on the lawn watching Marla fail. Her student gave up, lying back down on the soft grass breathless, remembering to avoid the sprinkler head this time round.

“Giving up already?” Jessie was still laughing.

“I’m glad to be the source of so much amusement,” Marla said dryly as Jessie lay down next to her, shielding her eyes from the sun with a saluting hand.

“You’ll get the hang of it. Takes practice, that’s all. Just wait ’til I show you ‘The Wheel’.”

Whatever “The Wheel” was, it sounded downright painful and Marla wanted no part of it. She rubbed at the tender spot in her back and quickly changed the subject.

“Are you serious about what you said earlier—about throwing a secret party?”

“Deadly serious.”

“Who would we invite?”

Jessie gave her a stern look.

“Jesus, you’re so transparent. You can invite Adam if you want, I think we can trust him. But none of the others, especially Anders—he’s a total slime.”

“Where would we have the party? The houses are off-limits right? And the rule about gatherings—Fowler was pretty adamant about that.”

“The whole point of having a party is to stick it to The Man. And where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Jessie lowered her voice. “There’s a mansion on the other side of the island, around the coastline from Pietro’s place but off the beaten track, surrounded by huge old trees. We call it The Big House.”

“The Big House?”

“Damn straight. The place is fricking massive, and really cool, it looks like the oldest house on the island. Thing is, it’s all locked up with shutters and shit. The security defenses are all computerized. I’d love to find out what’s so precious they lock it up in there.”

“So how are we going to get in?”

“Simple, I hack into the computer network and modify the house’s security parameters. If I do it behind the scenes, the Chief and his boys won’t notice a thing; it’ll look like everything is functioning normally. Then we slip in through the back door.”

“So you’re a computer hacker now?”

“Look. I could tell you but…”

“Yeah, yeah. But then you’d have to kill me right?”

Jessie nodded sagely.

“But what about Fowler’s rules, hey? What if we get caught?”

“Screw Fowler’s rules. And we won’t get caught. I have a plan Marla, a very good plan.”

“I don’t doubt that. It’s just… I can’t afford to mess up my chances of getting paid.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it toots. An integral part of my plan is that it is founded upon the bedrock principle of not messing up getting paid.”

Jessie’s words were doing nothing to reassure her. She had a fleeting vision of herself, Jessie, Pietro and Adam standing in front of Fowler’s desk stone drunk and wearing idiotic party hats, desperately trying desperately to explain themselves.

“Admit it, you want to stick to The Man too. I see it in your eyes.”

Marla was of two minds, but the idea of spending the night partying with Adam was tipping the balance a little.

“So, there was another reason I brought you out here toots, apart from yoga practice I mean…”

Jessie’s voice had taken on a hushed, conspiratorial tone. Marla turned to her, placing a hand over her forehead to block out the sun. She was a mirror image of Jessie, partners in crime.

“Don’t be too obvious, but I want you to lie back and look up at the trees to the right of the house. Make it look like you’re just stretching out, relaxing.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Just. Do. It,” Jessie whispered firmly.

Marla did as she was told. The trees to the right were away from the sun and as Marla’s eyes adjusted she could just make out a white bird perching high up in the topmost branches.

“What do you see?”

“A white bird.”

“Look again.”

“What the hell is this about Jessie?”

“That’s no bird. Look again .”

Marla squinted up at the trees once more. The white bird looked strangely still. No song emanated from its black beak.

“Marla, it’s a security camera.”

“No it isn’t…”

“Yes it is. And they’re all over this island, watching us night and day.”

Marla’s skin flushed cold.

Marla could see security cameras everywhere as she and Jessie walked through the trees towards her own summerhouse. She could see them in the white of the clouds peeking through branches and in the feathers of songbirds perched on the gatepost as they approached the house. Then they were part of the house itself, insinuating themselves into the neutral stucco background beneath the eaves. She felt herself becoming twitchy and nervous, watching for the glint of a lens, listening out for the whirring of tiny camera motors. Shouldn’t have smoked that joint , thought Marla, get a bloody grip. I mean it’s not as though London was exactly short on security cameras. Paranoia, that’s all this is. You’ve got The Fear…