Frye pats my shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my dear, but I have to run.” He makes a mock pout. “You don’t mind, do you? The High Priest is expecting me back for a council meeting. So much paperwork to sort out. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I’m thrilled to meet you. Thrilled. I’ll be back first thing tomorrow, and I’ll bring my godson, Haldus Poladion. You’ll like him, I know you will. He’s the High Priest’s son. And he’s very handsome!” He winks, climbs into the buggy, knocks on the side, and the horses clip-clop off down the driveway. The barking dog runs after them.
“Get back here, Isi!” Leonid shouts. “Heel.” The dog keeps on chasing the buggy until it’s halfway down the drive, while Leonid keeps shouting at her. Great, so she’s huge, wild and unmanageable. At last she turns and runs back to him, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, grinning.
“You’re a bad dog,” Leonid says, fondling her ears. “Chasing Mr Frye.” She wags her tail. “Where’s your luggage?” Leonid says abruptly.
“I … I don’t have any,” I say, trying not to move in case the dog goes for me. “I came from the colony.”
“Colony, miss?”
“Yes, the colony. I’ve been elevated.”
“Congratulations,” he sneers. “Anyway, your face is bright red. Better come inside.”
I know I’m flushed from the heat, but I wish he hadn’t pointed it out. And I can’t follow him up the steps because Isi is blocking my way and I’m too scared to move.
“She won’t hurt you.”
I don’t want him to think I’m pathetic, so I take a breath and sidle past the dog and follow him up the stairs. He’d be scared of dogs too if he’d never seen one before.
The front door opens onto a huge room that runs down the centre of the house. It’s darker and cool inside, and there’s a sweet, earthy smell.
He gestures towards the first doorway on the left. “Your room. En suite.”
“Thanks.” I don’t know what en suite is, but I don’t want to ask. He already thinks I’m an idiot. I peer through the door. This is my bedroom? It’s huge. There’s room for at least twenty people. There’s a huge bed with four curly poles holding up a roof and curtains around it. Two massive wooden lockers stand on either side of it.
“Do you also sleep in here?” I ask.
His face darkens. “Not part of my job.” He spits out the words.
I’m confused, then when I realise what he’s thinking, I go even redder.
“I didn’t mean that,” I say. What must he think of me? “It’s just that …” Forget it, I think. He’s already turned away. He doesn’t want to hear that in my world we’re never, ever alone, and it’s normal to share one sleeping cell with two hundred people.
“I’m going now,” he says. “What you want for supper?”
He’s got me on the back foot again. We eat what we’re given in the colony. Unless it’s a special occasion like a birthday, it’s the same thing every meal – a vegetable stew with protein pellets.
“Um …”
He’s waiting, with one eyebrow raised. I feel about half a metre tall.
Whatever I say, it will be wrong. He thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed lowlife. I’m not going to give him anything more to criticise. “I’ll eat anything,” I say gruffly. “Whatever’s easiest.”
He gives a curt nod and goes off. The dog has followed him, thank goodness. I don’t fancy being left alone with that brute.
I close my bedroom door and go into the bathroom. The light in this room is soft too – the windows are small and set deep into the thick walls. I kick off my sandals and stretch my feet on the wooden floors, savouring the warmth as I walk across to the basin. It feels good after walking on rock all my life.
There’s a long mirror, so I take off my robe and look at my reflection. My skin is so white it almost glows. I’m like a grub that has never seen daylight. A dirty grub, covered in a layer of dust from travelling. I step into the shower quickly and wash myself. Someone has left a half-used bottle of shampoo on the window sill. I wish I knew more about the mysterious great-aunt who has left me a fortune, and a bottle of shampoo that smells of lavender.
I find a red dressing gown behind the bathroom door and pull it on. When I come out, Leonid has lit the lamp, and there is a tray on the bedside table with a pot of tea, and what I recognise from Letti’s book as a tomato-and-cheese sandwich. Letti’s parents put a family recipe book in her memory box, and one of our favourite things was to page through it, drooling over the recipes. I can’t wait to tell her I’ve tasted it at last. But then I realise I’ll never see her again. I have no one to tell. I try to enjoy my meal but it feels strange to be eating all alone on a huge bed big enough for four people. I finish my meal, and lie back against the soft pillows. It’s quiet in here, and the room is full of shadows. No one is breathing near me.
My dream has come true – I’ve come home. But there’s no one here who loves me. No parents, no sisters and brothers or grandparents. I’m completely alone.
I swallow down my tears and climb under the duvet, pulling the curtains closed around the bed. That’s better. It’s more like the bunker.
I fall asleep. When I wake up a while later and peer out through the curtains, the room is dark and the wind is blowing the trees outside my window. I hope it doesn’t blow a tree onto the house. What if something crawls up out of the floor and bites me? It’s a scary world out there – full of dangers I don’t know anything about.
The house creaks and there’s a strange noise, like someone scratching on my door. I creep out of bed and tiptoe across the room to lock my door. As I turn the key, I hear a soft whine. Opening the door a crack, I peep out. The dog is standing there, looking at me with big melting eyes.
She doesn’t look vicious. She looks sad. She wants to come in. “Are you lonely?” I ask. “Did your family all die too?” She licks my hand.
“Come on then,” I say, opening the door wider. She runs across the room and jumps onto the bed. “Now don’t go biting me,” I say as I gingerly climb back onto my side. “Your job is to look for baddies.”
She gives a big sigh and rests her head on my leg. I tentatively touch her. She’s pretty – white all over, except for three big black spots on her back. Her tail gives two thumps. “Good dog,” I say, stroking her head. “Pretty Isi.”
I lie there trying to process everything that has happened. In just twelve hours I’ve gone from thinking I’m about to die to discovering I’m an heiress; from being crowded in a bunker with two thousand kids to being totally alone in a strange house.
I wish I could get a message to Jasmine and the twins. If only they could be here with me.
Suddenly a ray of light shines into my room. It reminds me of an old sci-fi kinetika we saw years ago, about aliens landing on earth. Micah and the older boys thought it was hilarious, but I didn’t sleep for weeks, imagining them walking around on top of the mountain, looking for
