The child, seeing her blush, smiles. ‘Tu es sweet, I think that’s why I like yer. Elle was also too. Always concerné.’
This makes Evie ponder. Had the girl really picked her out, identified her as a potential opportunity to jump ship? It is hard to believe that such a sweet face could be so scheming. But that’s what thieves do, they spot their mark and reel them in.
‘Did your parents work in that place too?’
Sola snorts. ‘No way! We had une immense villa with pool in le country. Maman was très beautiful. Elle une grande actress.’
Now it is Evie’s turn to smile, amused by the fairy-tale imagination feeding empty boasts. In reply, her tone is sceptical. ‘And with all that money, there was no one else to look after you?’
The child tightens her grip, but this time painfully, crushing Evie’s fingers. ‘Je ne tell you nuthin, if you’re not moi believin.’
They carry along in a mistrustful silence, until Sola breaks it, pointing to a holo projected from the wall ahead. The image is of Evie and David, head and shoulders only – a pair of mugshots suspended in the air.
Evie’s instinct is to turn and run but doing so will just draw attention and instead she grips the child’s hand tighter. She recognised herself immediately despite her straight hair styled in waves, something she has never thought to do. The Realhuman logo floats below – suggesting the clip could have been recorded in the factory. In the holo she blinks repeatedly, something she does when nervous, as she certainly would have been then, absorbing the sights and smells of her new existence for the first time.
‘It ees you?’ Sola asks, puzzled, glancing from one to another. ‘Why?’
‘Keep going,’ Evie mutters.
‘Why do they ave your holo?’ The child is distracted by the likeness and has missed completely the one-million-neuro reward below in bold flashing-one-at-a-time letters, a strange oversight for such an opportunistic thief, however small-scale.
The hotel is only just around the corner, but with heart racing faster than an atom racer, Evie makes them wait in the shadows of a littered doorway opposite, giving a chance for anyone following, alerted by her reaction to the holo, to reveal themselves.
Satisfied they’re alone, she leads the child across the street and underneath the canopy. The man in reception, a one-armed ex-militiaman of the ongoing colonial wars, judging by his tattoos, glances up, but there is no recognition, no awareness that a mouth-watering sum awaits the return of his guest to the hands of its ‘rightful owners’. It is helpful also that Sola passes undetected, head below the level of the counter. Not that Evie can imagine a fuss being made, unless it be a demand for additional rent, on top of that already extorted.
She reaches their room door and puts her head around, wondering how she will explain Sola to David. Their journey is complicated enough without another pothole or bump.
But he is not there.
Evie had not anticipated his absence. She knows she upset him, but she thought they’d talked that through.
She lets the child in, and going to the window, draws the curtain aside and peers onto the street.
‘Where ees he?’ Sola asks, ‘le boy in le holo?’
‘I don’t know.’ Evie walks back across the room and closes the door. Her pack is on the side and she checks inside to see if his few things are still there.
‘He your friend?’
‘Yes,’ she says, wondering if it is true.
The train they’d intended to take leaves in an hour. What if he went out searching for her? What if he’s lost? This afternoon, everything had felt so certain and now she’s messed it all up.
Sola sits in the window, peering out. ‘Is that heem down there?’
‘What can you see?’
‘Le boy, he talk to les cops.’
Evie comes over.
‘Well?’
David is in the street, surrounded by three uniformed men, jutting chins tucked behind stiff collars and brows hidden by peaked caps. They could be gendarmes but as equally could be some brand of corporate security. He has gone out without shoes and shirt despite the weather – that would only have helped draw attention.
They try to manoeuvre him towards their vehicle. He stands his ground and they prod his side with batons, which sends him reeling.
‘Why they hurt heem?’ Sola asks.
Evie runs from the room and down the stairs, past the reception again, stopping outside at the top of the hotel steps.
Sola emerges from the doorway behind and takes hold of her arm.
David’s eyes connect with hers but, as they do, the men reach out with their sticks again to his chest, making him twist on the spot and drop to his knees, his shoulders in spasm.
Now that he is down, two grab for his arms but he is already rising again, even before they can make contact, and knocks them sideways. As they struggle to recover, David bolts down the street and leaps the iron bollards at the end, leaving the two men staring at one another, before gathering their wits and following.
Evie’s first thought is to flee herself – but if she does, she will lose David for sure. If he is able to, or wants to, he will look for her in the hotel.
Her thought processes are in turmoil. What if she ends up trapped? What do these men in uniforms know? What might David tell them if they catch him?
Evie pulls Sola into the shadows. ‘We’ll wait for him in the room.’ She can’t desert him. It isn’t how she was made.
‘Who is he?’ the girl whispers back, more curious than scared. ‘Is he your boyfriend?’
They go back upstairs and, locking the door, lay together on the bed in the dark. After the child falls asleep, Evie takes the charger from the pack and plugs herself in. The warm buzz of electricity, on which normally she likes to drift before surrendering to sleep, tonight lights her nerves, leaving her tense from head to toe. She is conscious of Sola’s hand pressed against her hip and of the snuffle of her breath in the chilly air. But more than anything, she is conscious of the level of her abandon – the child lies on her back, arms out by her sides, legs stretched apart, taking up almost as much of the bed as David had – possessing a sense of freedom she herself has never felt.
During the night, Evie hears the handle of the door turn. Hoping it is David, she tiptoes over and crouches with her ear against the wood. The sharp tap of footsteps retreat and descend. Whoever it was, it was not David. Could it have been the hotel owner? Should she take her chances and leave now?
More anxious than ever, she returns to the bed and wraps her arms around the sleeping child, drawing the heat of her body into her chest.
Evie is woken again in the early hours by a rattle at the window. It swings inward, allowing in a rush of night air. David enters and crouches by the bedstead.
The presence of Sola doesn’t register with him, although, exhausted as he is, he is in no state to question anything. Evie picks Sola up and lays her on the chair, offering David the space. He collapses on the mattress, his head sinking into the pillows.
While he sleeps, she wets a towel and wipes the crust of filthy gel from his damaged feet. She then pulls back the skin below his ribs and connects her own charger, causing him to shudder but not wake.
When David comes to, it is early afternoon. The child is perched on the windowsill, cross-legged, teasing the dog with a ball of wool, making him jump for it like a cat.
Evie lies in the chair. ‘Are you all right? she asks him.
David doesn’t answer but stares at the ceiling.
‘What happened?’ she asks.
‘I outran them.’
‘They didn’t see where you went?’