copper light into the fjord, and through the glass floor of the lift we could make out the shape of the house: three round tiers about halfway down, sitting out over the water, glowing gold in the new sun.
The lift descended into an opening within the confines of the house. He hit the button and the door slid cleanly open, allowing us to step inside the cold space.
“One, two, three.” Tom switched on the lights, illuminating the house. It was still a shell, and there were bits of wood and metal lying everywhere, but it was finished. Completely sealed in. A spiral staircase spun up from the middle of the floor to the next levels like a giant metallic strand of DNA. Tom saw me staring at it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “Coco will have a field day trying to climb it.”
I nodded. She was squirming in my arms, yanking on my clothes and hair to get down, but I wouldn’t let her—the place wasn’t exactly Coco-proof. Tom ran a hand across the dusty silver banister, grinning at the staircase like it was a living object.
“Doubles up as a ventilation shaft,” he told me, as though I might have a clue what this meant. “Thought we’d have to put in a mechanical ventilation system, but we improvised. Oh, but that’s nothing compared to how we did the insulation.”
He turned and walked toward one of the walls—I assumed he intended me to follow, so I did. This was a side of Tom I hadn’t seen—he was as excited as a kid let loose in Santa’s workshop on Christmas morning.
“Look,” he said, nodding at a cross section in the wall. I looked inside. It was filled with plastic bottles.
“Great,” I said, and he beamed.
“A ton of plastic bottles serving to insulate the house,” he said proudly. “That’s one less ton in the oceans, in the rivers, in our food. Imagine if every house was built this way. Hotels, office blocks.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shook his head. I did the same.
“Look at this,” Tom said, and I turned to see him pointing at the back wall of the living room. It was the actual cliff. Not dark wallpaper, as I’d thought, but solid granite, all the layers of sediment shown clearly. He and Clive had spent all night sealing the walls of the house to the granite.
Upstairs he led us through the bedrooms, all of which had light provided by sun pipes and energy-optimized windows. The front two bedrooms had views of the fjord, as did the rooms on the third level. The roof wasn’t going to be a roof at all, he said, but would be covered in solar panels, a rainwater recycling system, energy wells, and a garden.
“We did it,” Tom said to Clive, high-fiving him. Then he pulled out a hankie and started to cry.
39
she was mine
NOW
When we went back to Granhus I told Gaia to practice her spelling in the playroom. I placed Coco in her playpen with a wooden glockenspiel. Then I headed to my bedroom, locked the door, and fell to my knees.
Aurelia’s Nest was completed. I wasn’t needed anymore. I stuffed a pair of socks into my mouth to muffle the sounds that came flooding out without any bidding. I leaned forward to allow my tears to drip onto the rug, where they pooled for a moment before sinking into the white faux fur.
I was so incredibly selfish, I knew it. It was good that Tom had achieved what he came here to do, even if he was a murderer. It was good for his daughters. At the very least, they would have somewhere to live that would be ghost-free. But I would soon be back in England, and even though my salary had been accumulating in my bank account—enough for a rental deposit—I was once again untethered.
And I remembered sharply why I had attempted suicide that night. I looked over the scars on my arms. I felt exactly like I did when I pressed a broken shard of glass into my skin. Cut loose. Completely and utterly bewildered about what I was going to do with my life. Like an utter failure who didn’t deserve to live.
* * *
—
At fourteen I was back in foster care—this time Mum had phoned the council while I was at school one day and said she hadn’t enough money to feed me. To be honest I think she just got sick of me