Cecelia Ahern - Flawed

“Thank you, Pia. This interview has been highly informative.”

Instead of catching me out, what she’s done is given me an idea. If I have the power to bring down Crevan with my sixth brand, then I will do it. Then Art and I can be together. But to do that, I need more proof and I need help. I need Mr. Berry’s video, and there’s one more thing. I’m not waiting for him anymore. I need to find Carrick.

THIRTY-SEVEN

I HAVEN’T HEARD from Art since we parted in the library. I run through our conversation over and over in my head and try to convince myself I shouldn’t have brought Carrick up. What an idiotic thing to do at such a time. If I hadn’t, Art and I would still be okay. But in my heart, I know we wouldn’t. I can’t play along with his moods just to stay together. It wasn’t the same between us in that library. Everything felt different. He couldn’t even bring himself to kiss me. One thing I’m sure of, though, is that yesterday I wanted to find Carrick to thank him, today I need to find him because I need his help to activate my plan. If there’s one person who would want to take down Crevan as much as I do, it’s Carrick. I can’t do this alone.

My last class of the day is French, but the teacher refuses to teach me, so I will be in the library by myself once again. It is the perfect opportunity to get some time on my own, to be somewhere without anybody knowing. I catch up with Juniper in the school corridor. Everybody makes a wide circle around us.

“Losers,” Juniper mutters.

“Tell Mom I had to go somewhere this afternoon, tell her not to wait for me. You guys go home without me.”

“What? She’ll freak out. Where are you going?”

“Tell her I’m fine. I just want to be independent, get a grip on my new life by myself, blah, blah, blah. She’ll go for that.”

Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “What are you up to, Celestine?”

There’s a standoff between us. Neither of us trusting the other.

“Tell Mom I’m meeting Pia Wang for an interview.”

“Are you really?”

I roll my eyes and walk away. She’s not the only one who can meet people in secret.

* * *

After Susan, the school secretary who has almost become my baby-sitter during classes where teachers refuse to teach me, has checked up on me, my plan is to escape out the door of the library. I push at it, but it’s locked. I bang at it and kick it in frustration, absolutely nothing going my way.

I slither down to the floor to cry in frustration, and suddenly it opens and I fall backward outside. Mr. Murray is standing there.

I scramble to my feet.

“I didn’t help you,” he says simply, then turns his back and goes about his work.

I don’t step outside. As much as I want to grab this opportunity to find Carrick, I don’t want Mr. Murray to get into trouble. He’s been the school’s groundskeeper ever since I’ve started here and probably even before that.

“It’s illegal for you to help me,” I say, testing him, giving him one more chance to close the door on me.

“No, it’s not,” he says, still not looking at me, scraping his muddy boots on a rug. “There’s a mark on the sole of my foot that says there’s no law against a Flawed helping a Flawed.”

“What?” I look down at his feet, but he continues rubbing the muck off.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“But … but you don’t wear an armband.”

“Exactly, so nobody knows. I’m off the radar.” He finally looks at me.

“I’ve never heard of that before.”

“There are cracks that you can fall through. Harder for you, of course, being a household name, but if you look for them, you can find them. They don’t win all the time. Be careful.”

I nod, stunned by this. “Thanks.”

I hurry away from the school, managing to avoid the dwindling press numbers by cutting through the trees. I don’t want to travel on a bus—I think that would attract too much attention—so instead I take a bike from the city’s bike-sharing scheme. There are thirty stations around the city. You take a bike from one station, cycle it to wherever you need to go, and park it at the nearest station. Highland Castle is one of the busiest tourist spots in the city, as well as employing a huge number of people, so it has one of the largest bicycle stations outside. I cycle across Humming Bridge, weaving through the tourists. It’s a struggle to cycle uphill, so I abandon cycling and push it instead up the ironically named High Road. I don’t think there’s such a thing as anybody actually taking the high road to Highland Castle. As I’m locking the bike, I hear the familiar sound of people calling and yelling in the courtyard. It takes me back to my own experience and terrifies me, stopping me in my tracks until I realize it’s not aimed at me. Somebody else is walking to court.

Because that is taking everybody’s attention, nobody notices me. I buy a cap from the tourist shop, making sure not to cover my temple in case I’m caught, and push my way to the front of the crowd. I get there in time to see a man and a woman, holding hands, making the walk from the Clock Tower to the court. The woman is crying uncontrollably, and they are clinging to each other. There are two guards on either side of them, but I don’t recognize the guards at all. This is good. It means I can go to the Clock Tower while the court is in session and speak with Tina. Hopefully, after all I went through, she will give me Carrick’s address.

The gathered crowd is nothing like the scene I had during my trial. I look up at Pia’s filming location, and there she is, live on air sharing her prejudiced thoughts on more innocent victims.

“You’re disgusting!” the woman beside me shouts as the couple passes, and she spits. Her phlegm flies through the air and lands on the woman’s shoe. This makes me flinch, and the woman walking by cries even harder, tucking herself under her partner’s arm even closer.

“Did you see her face?” The woman beside me laughs, as do a few other spectators.

“Should have aimed for her face,” a man says angrily.

“What did they do?” I ask.

“Have you not been reading the news?” she asks, surprised. “They’re all over it.”

I shake my head, and I can tell she enjoys having the opportunity to tell me the story herself, as though her disgust with people is the only thing keeping her going.

“She and her husband took their dying son out of the hospital, without permission, because they didn’t agree with his treatment. Flew him across the world, were on the run for weeks; poor fella could have died. They took him to Spain. To get another treatment.” She rolls her eyes. “Sure, what’s wrong with our hospitals? They just can’t play God like that.”

“But … did the treatment work?” I ask.

“They flew back this morning. The Whistleblowers got them before they even got off the plane. The little boy is back in the hospital. He’s grand. They’re going to let him continue the alternative treatment. The Spanish police interrogated them but let them go. Nothing illegal, apparently, but it’s wrong. That boy could have died getting there.”

I shake my head, and she’s satisfied by my response, but I’m not in agreement with her. I know now that I am totally and utterly against any Guild decision. The woman looks down and sees the F on my sleeve. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops and her face twists in disgust. Before she alerts anyone, I push my way back out of the crowd and hurry to the Clock Tower.

The receptionist greets me.

“I’d like to speak with Tina, the guard,” I tell the receptionist.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” she says.

I take off my cap to reveal my identity. “I know her. I was in custody here two weeks ago. I just wanted to ask her something.”