Cecelia Ahern - Perfect

“You don’t look very pleased,” Enya says to me.

I shake my head. “He’s going to be very angry.”

And I know what Crevan is like when he’s angry.

FORTY-EIGHT

“IT’S NICE TO finally meet you,” Enya says.

She holds out her hand and I take it. Her grip is firm, her skin warm.

“You too,” I say, hearing the uncertainty in my own voice. “Are you going to abolish the Guild if you get into power?”

She smiles. “You get right to it, don’t you? Well, around here we use the word when , not if .”

I note that she doesn’t answer the question.

“Come with me. Let’s talk in private,” she says, leading me away.

Carrick watches me go, a little nervously, probably afraid I’ll further insult the woman everybody here is hailing as their hero.

I’m able to stand unaided now, but my legs feel like jelly. I concentrate on trying to walk normally. Enya places a hand on my back and guides me into a small office away from the action. A group of people huddled around a computer see her and quickly shuffle outside.

Enya half sits on the table and gives me her complete attention. “You don’t trust me. Why?”

“I don’t trust anyone,” I say simply.

“That’s understandable.”

“I know that Carrick trusts you. He believes in you, and so do all the people in this room, and the thousands around the country who are supporting you. I just haven’t had any cause to yet.” I swallow. “I just hope that you won’t do a U-turn if you’re voted into power.”

“ When I’m in power, I won’t do a U-turn. I will do my best to uphold my promises.”

“What are your promises?”

“Fair treatment for Flawed. An overhaul of the Guild,” she continues.

“An overhaul? Fair treatment?” I say. “It’s not enough. We need to get rid of it.”

“You want it to be abolished completely?” she asks, concerned. “We can’t do that straightaway, Celestine. Baby steps are required.”

“Baby steps are not effective when you’re living in a country that needs big leaps.”

She ponders that. “You can trust me that I will keep my word to the Flawed. And if you keep doing what you’re doing, being a strong role model, showing the entire population that Flawed are people and not monsters, then you’re not just helping me. You’re helping yourself. You’re an inspiring young woman, Celestine. The country has needed somebody like you for quite some time, to start the conversation about Flawed. You’ve inspired me, I’m sure you can tell that from the campaign logo.”

I nod. “It’s … flattering.”

“So, what now can I do for you?”

I look at her in surprise.

“I think it’s time somebody helped you, don’t you?”

“You would be aiding a Flawed. You would be aiding an evader,” I tell her.

“Look around, Celestine.”

I look through the window to everybody outside and notice the F armbands on the majority of her supporters, some obvious scars, some in places that can’t be seen.

“I’m not aiding anybody in here,” she explains. “The way I see it is everybody here is aiding me.”

I smile. “Good defense.” My legs feel weak and I suddenly have to sit down.

“Are you okay?”

“Crevan injected me with something to paralyze me, captured me, brought me to a private Guild facility on Creed Barracks property. I escaped.”

She looks at me in shock. It takes her a while to wrap her head around the words. “What is going on with you and him, Celestine? What has got him so obsessed with you?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“But it’s something.”

I nod.

“Something big.”

“Huge.”

Her eyes widen.

I make a decision to trust her. “I’m working on getting the truth about Crevan out there. Will you help me?”

“Anything I can do.”

* * *

We leave the office and Enya brings me to a man who’s away from all the madness, in a quiet corner. He’s hunched over a computer with the largest screen I’ve ever seen, surrounded by three laptops and endless wires. He wears headphones and is concentrating hard on the video on the monitor, which is footage of Enya Sleepwell on the campaign trail.

“He’s editing the party political broadcast,” Enya explains. “It’s due to go out tomorrow night.” She places a hand on his shoulder and he removes his headphones. “Pete, I have a girl here who needs your help. Give her whatever she wants.”

Fired up, I take whatever I can from Pete, squeezing a laptop, a phone, and chargers into my bag. I sense Carrick behind me.

“I just spoke to Tina,” he says. “Dr. Greene decided not to carry out the skin graft until first thing in the morning. So we have the night. Your mom will go in at first light.”

I feel sick at the thought of Juniper spending the entire night in that horrific place. With Crevan lurking, and no doubt in a temper after that car-crash interview with Erica Edelman, anything could happen. I also feel fearful of Mom standing up to the Whistleblowers, bursting in there and accusing them of taking the wrong daughter. Will it really work? Will they really just apologize and let them both walk out of there? Will they allow any of the parents to leave with their children? I move with ferociousness now.

“Do you have permission to take this stuff?” Carrick asks in a low voice.

“Enya said I could take whatever I want.”

He raises his eyebrow.

“She’s nice,” I finally admit.

“What are you planning?”

“We’re going to visit somebody.”

“Who?”

I think of the advice Raphael Angelo gave me. Instead of running from something forever, the only way to deal with it is to face it head-on.

The note Tina passed to me as I escaped contained a home address, there was nothing else attached, no name, no explanations, but I don’t need it. I know exactly whose address it is.

“We’re going to visit Mary May.”

FORTY-NINE

WHENEVER I’M CONFUSED, I look at what I know : Who is against me; who is on my side. Who can I trust; who can’t I trust, and how do I utilize them both. In a massive generalization: Who is against me? Non-Flawed. Who is with me? Flawed.

We can’t risk making our way to either Leonard’s car or Raphael’s Mini so late at night, and using any of Enya Sleepwell’s vehicles is a definite no. Having her implicated in helping me will destroy everything she has done to build up trust with people. We need to be among our own people, and the only transport we can safely use to get to Mary May’s house is the Flawed curfew bus.

Mary May lives out of the city, past the suburbs, near the lake. I imagined her as a farmhouse type of person, maybe with horses, but perhaps animals don’t like her, either. They have extra senses for people like her. I never would have suspected the lake. The lake is beautiful, magical, surrounded by rolling mountains decorated by the shadows of clouds and mountain mist. My friend Marlena’s family have a second house there. She used to go most weekends, and sometimes they brought me. Mom used to take us on drives all around the lake, she used to like to watch the sunrise. Until Juniper and I started complaining about it being boring and then she just went on her own. I feel guilty about that now.

Carrick and I don’t know if the footage is in Mary May’s possession for sure, but it’s all we’ve got to go on. Juniper told me that Mary May removed everything from my room and put it in her own personal car, while wearing her civilian clothes. I can’t even imagine what kind of clothes they would be, or believe that she would possess an item of clothing that wasn’t some kind of Whistleblower uniform. But I do know that Mary May must be under immense pressure from Crevan to find me and the footage. She was responsible for both, and she let them slip through her fingers. If she’s taken my things anywhere, it must be to her own home, where she can search on her own time. They’re only objects, but I think of all my possessions sitting in her house. Teddies, photographs, books, clothes, the only things that I own, all taken away from me.