Perfect. Cecelia Ahern

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Perfect - Cecelia Ahern


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me, puts her arm round my shoulders, and speaks quietly into my ear. “Your taste will come back eventually. Trust me.”

      As I swallow the next tasteless piece of cake, I can’t help but wonder what lie Carrick’s mother told.

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      At night, when everybody has finally gone to bed, or to work, Carrick comes for me in the cabin. Mona raises her eyebrows at me suggestively, and I laugh as I leave. It’s not what she thinks it is; Carrick and I desperately need to talk. Even though I understand why she’s doing it, Kelly constantly trying to be near Carrick and fussing around him has prevented us from being able to talk. And then I had to wait for him to finish his shift, and when he finally did there was a group dinner, where Kelly sat between us, thinking she was bringing us all together when, really, Carrick sat by stiffly, giving one-worded answers, and I was too tired to speak.

      It’s been an exhausting two weeks, a terrifying twenty-four hours, and now that I have finally stopped, and the adrenaline has worn off, I am sore and stiff, my head aches, and I feel like I could sleep forever.

      Carrick takes me to the kitchen, the furthest room from everybody’s sleeping quarters, and closes the door. We sit at the kitchen table.

      “Did you hear anything from Dahy about my granddad?”

      It is the tenth time, at least, that I’ve asked him and Lennox today, though at one point Lennox fixed me with a dangerous look and said, “North, I like you, but I will swat you like a fly.”

      “Yes. Just a few minutes ago. Your parents went to see him today. He’s in a holding cell; they’re treating him well. They’re questioning him and holding him for another twenty-four hours on suspicion of aiding the Flawed. They’re trying to say he’s been giving his employees privileges.”

      I’m both relieved and not, at the same time. He hasn’t been charged, or hurt. Yet.

      “They have no proof against him, or they would have charged him by now. They’re just holding him to smoke you out.”

      I wince.

      “Sorry.” He backtracks. “I didn’t mean to use that expression. But on the positive side, the fact that they’re holding on to him means he knows you’re still alive.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “Certain. He’s not stupid.”

      I smile. “No, he’s not.”

      “So … I’ve been formulating a plan to get us out of this mess.”

      “What mess?”

      He makes a general gesture, indicating the room around us, the factory.

      “You want to leave Vigor?” I ask, surprised.

      “You don’t?”

      Would it be stupid to say that I like it here? That for the first time in weeks I feel safe? Surrounded by steel, metal, enormous structures, key cards to get through doors, heightened security, all to keep the outsiders from getting in. I don’t feel locked inside, I feel protected, as if for the first time it’s me who is being guarded.

      “I feel safe here,” I admit. “And you’ve found your family, and your brother – did you even know you had a brother? Why would you want to give up being with them?”

      “I understand, Celestine, I do. But this place isn’t real life. This isn’t freedom. Poor Evelyn is six years old and hasn’t been outside these walls since the day she arrived. She has no friends her age, probably has never met anyone her own age. Bahee doesn’t want us to fight for freedom. If he hears us speak about it, he tells us to stop, so nothing around here is ever going to change.”

      “But I got ten hours of sleep last night,” I whine, and he laughs gently.

      “I felt the same for about a day, but you’ve just arrived. You’ll see.”

      “You sure you’re not just trying to run away?” I ask gently. “It’s going to take some time to get to know your family again, Carrick. It’s normal for it to be … awkward.”

      “You noticed,” he says sarcastically. “When I left the institution, the worst thing I could have done to the Guild was to find my parents. I didn’t think the Guild would really be watching me. Of all the students, I was the person to least suspect, I thought I’d fooled them. I thought they trusted me. It just taught me that no matter how good a relationship I thought I’d built up with them, they didn’t trust me anyway. The dean came to see me at the castle.”

      “I remember that.” I recall the well-dressed gentleman visiting his cell. He looked like a lawyer, but Carrick had chosen to represent himself.

      “He said he’d never felt so betrayed by someone in all his life. He’d kind of taken me under his wing.” He shakes his head. “He’d watched me grow up, saw all my sports games, celebrated all my exam results. He has kids himself. And yet he still couldn’t understand my wanting to find my parents. And then I’m branded Flawed, and I’m allowed to search for my parents. There’s no rule to stop me now. It’s so twisted.”

      “Illogical,” I agree. “How did you find your family?”

      “I was tipped off that they were here. They moved here when I was brought to Highland Castle.”

      “They’ve been here less than two months?” I ask, surprised.

      “Seems longer, doesn’t it?” he asks. “That’s the weird thing about this place –” he looks around the walls – “it’s as though time doesn’t exist. People come here and they never leave. There’s more Flawed who you haven’t met yet – I dread to think of how long they’ve been here.”

      “Apart from Lizzie,” I say.

      She’s been playing on my mind. One of the reasons my friends considered me perfect before I became Flawed is because of my perfect grades, always A’s, particularly in mathematics. I just have the head for it. The theorems, equations – they always made sense to me. A problem that could easily be solved. If anything tested me, I’d stick with it until I got my solution. I feel the same way now. Something doesn’t feel right. There’s a problem. It’s lingering, like a ghost with unfinished business, waiting for somebody to figure it out. You’d think after what happened to me, I’d be able to change, but I can’t. When the Guild brands you, they can’t change the person, not really; they just change people’s perception of the person.

      “Lizzie?” He seems confused by the change in direction.

      “What do you know about her?”

      “She was a Flawed girl who worked and lived here. She left a few days after I arrived. She shared a cabin with Mona – they were pretty close. I didn’t pay much attention. The rumour is she told her boyfriend that she was Flawed and he wasn’t interested any more, so she left. I didn’t bother with the gossip, that’s Mona’s territory. Why?”

      “Do you know her boyfriend?”

      “I know what he looks like. Kind of a nerdy computer guy. Why?”

      “Is he trustworthy?”

      “Celestine,” he warns. “Why?”

      “Just wondering. Humour me: I’m worried about her; you said when people come in here they never leave. She left. She disappeared.”

      “I don’t think her boyfriend chopped her up into little pieces, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he teases. “Don’t worry, people here are mostly good. I’m sure a few of them suspect us, might even have seen a brand or two, but they don’t


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