Cecelia Ahern - Perfect

“How do you … That’s not exactly how it…” Carrick stumbles.

“Hmm.” Raphael looks at me again. “Think for yourself, Celestine.”

I’m so shocked by what I’ve just heard, the idea of Carrick being in cahoots with Enya Sleepwell, that I can’t tear my eyes off Carrick. He won’t meet my gaze; he’s looking down, uncomfortable, fingers toying with the frayed knees of his jeans.

“Hair pulling, name-calling, and catfighting later. Eyes back on me, eyes back on me,” Raphael says with a smile. He makes his way to his desk, slides open a drawer, and takes out a piece of paper. He fills it out, hands it to me.

“This is a standard agreement binding us as lawyer and client, but it will do.”

I take my time reading it. It is a short and simple contract, worded to say that Raphael Angelo represents the interests of Celestine North. No obvious tricks.

“So tell me”—he sits on a footstool and leans toward me—“what do you know that’s so bad that Crevan the fox is hunting down poor little Celestine?”

“Don’t tell him,” Carrick says as I stand up. “We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“Trust?” I spit angrily. “So you do know the word?”

Carrick looks away, annoyed, with a shake of his head.

“And we’re off,” Raphael says with a sigh, and folds his arms.

I turn my back to Raphael, lift my T-shirt, and lower the waist of my trousers.

Silence.

Then Raphael sucks in air. “A sixth brand. On your spine.” He stands closer to me, inspects it. “It’s not in the Guild paperwork. They’re illustrious for their paperwork. It’s your word against his.”

“There’s footage of Crevan ordering the extra brand on me,” I say, measuring my words. “That’s what he’s looking for.”

He leans forward, raises his eyebrows. “Footage? Well, now, that changes things.”

“Well, there’s more,” I say. “The guard wouldn’t carry out the brand,” I explain. “The spine is not an official branding zone and there was no anesthetic; it’s outside of Guild guidelines, so Crevan branded me himself.”

Raphael’s eyes almost pop out of his head. He stands and paces while he thinks. I can see the excitement in him, though he’s trying to hide it, and it’s confirmed to me that I’ve got something here. I’ve really got something against Crevan.

He stops pacing. He looks at me sympathetically, suddenly very sad. Genuinely.

“I must apologize, Celestine. I’m afraid I’ve let you down. I’ve fallen for the oldest trick in the film, which is to jump the gun, assume I’d heard and seen everything in my time. I missed the fact there could be a twist. I’m afraid I’m a man of black and white, of right and wrong. Just as I wouldn’t offer a Flawed alcohol, I couldn’t aid a Flawed who is on the run, in my home. I have seven children and too much to lose.”

Carrick stiffens beside me.

“We have an exceptional camera system around this house. Our friend Crevan has given us plenty of reason to have them. I saw you arriving from quite a distance away. As soon as I saw you, I instructed my dear wife, Susan, to alert the Whistleblowers.”

Carrick lets out an angry curse and he jumps to his feet, hands making fists. He towers over Raphael.

“ But ”—Raphael holds a finger up to Carrick—“we’re living out here for a reason. The nearest Whistleblower is one hour away, at best, which gives us forty-five minutes to devise our plan. So”—Raphael looks at Carrick nervously, curiously, slightly amused—“let’s get devising.”

THIRTY-SIX

“COME ON, CELESTINE, let’s get the hell out of here,” Carrick says angrily, giving up on his very visible desire to beat Raphael to a bloody pulp.

“How macho of you,” Raphael says, amused.

“Stop it, the both of you.” I raise my voice. “Carrick, we need his help.”

“His help ?” he asks, appalled. “He just called the Whistleblowers on us.”

“Just on Celestine, actually. I didn’t think they’d come any quicker if I mentioned you.”

I look from Carrick to Raphael, feeling torn. We’ve come all this way. This is the only plan I’ve got. Raphael Angelo is the only lawyer ever to overturn a Flawed ruling. I need him . Without him, what do I do? How do I take my case to Judge Sanchez?

“Fine. You stay,” Carrick says. “I’m not sticking around. I don’t trust this guy. One more second here and we’ll land ourselves back in Highland Castle.”

“Carrick, wait.” I turn to Raphael. “Can he and I talk privately?”

“Sure. Tick, tick, tick,” Raphael says, watching the clock over the fireplace, which I notice for the first time is a pair of “human hands” in the pointing position wearing marigold gloves. Raphael leaves the room.

Carrick faces me, arms folded, jaw square. Black eyes. “We can’t trust him.”

“What was he talking about when he mentioned Enya Sleepwell?” I ask shakily.

And even though he’s trying to be cool about it, his body language changes.

“Look, Celestine.” He comes to me, takes my hands gently. “Now is not the time to talk about that.”

“Now is exactly the time. I need to know the truth.”

He sighs, annoyed that I’m killing time. “Enya Sleepwell approached me during your trial—she wanted to contact you. She wanted to help you. She’s running a campaign entirely based on your principles, compassion and logic , those were your words, you’ve seen them on every lamppost and billboard in the city. I told her I’d help her find you, but it was difficult. The press was at your house, your school. I couldn’t get to you. Pia Wang was on your case.”

“You came to find me because Enya Sleepwell asked you to?” I ask, feeling the tremor in my voice. I hear him say those words to me when I was walking down the corridor to the Branding Chamber. I’ll find you. I waited for him in those weeks afterward, thinking it was something else, a connection or a bond of some sort, but it wasn’t. It was a favor to a politician.

“Wait, Celestine, listen,” he says impatiently. “Enya was the one who was at the castle for me when my trial was over and I was allowed to leave.”

“She helped you become an evader?”

He looks around and lowers his voice. “I can’t say that. She guided me. Gave me tips. Who I could trust and who I couldn’t. She received information that my parents were at Vigor, which we now know came from Alpha and the Professor. I didn’t know it then, but he must be funding her campaign. She has a lot of resources. It was through Enya that I met Fergus, Lorcan, and Lennox. She has plans for the Flawed, she puts like-minded people together. There’s strength in numbers. Her campaign just needs you . You’re the key to all this. She wants to meet with you but she can’t, given that you’re wanted. She’s not the enemy, Celestine, she’s trying to help us.”

“Does she know about my sixth brand?”

“No,” he says firmly, and I believe him.

“She was at the supermarket riot. I remember seeing her.”

He freezes.

“Lorcan and Fergus were there, too. You were there. I never thought about it before, but why were you all there?” My eyes narrow suspiciously.

He doesn’t say a word.

“Carrick. Talk.”

“We were told you were going to be at Alpha’s house.”

The revelation leaves me feeling like I’ve been punched in the stomach. Alpha invited me to a gathering at her house, and I felt that she’d tricked me. I was called up to the stage in front of hundreds of people, placed in front of the microphone, and expected to tell my story. Something rousing. Something inspiring. I couldn’t get a word out of my mouth. I choked. I had nothing at all to say to those people who wanted so much from me. The arrival of the Whistleblowers was what ironically rescued me.