Irene opened the laptop on the counter and clicked on the mousepad a few times.
“It wasn’t as dramatic as he’s making out,” I said. “I just moved some barbed wire. I swear I didn’t mean to go after anyone’s fans.”
I wrung my hands together. Everyone hated me already. I shrank away next to the kitchen sink, my heart hammering against my ribs as Irene and Dan watched the video. In the background I heard my shaking, tentative voice talking to the wolf. Nathan glared at me with his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“Holy crap,” Dan said. “That was amazing.”
Both Dan and Irene were staring at me with opened mouths, but I focused on Nathan.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have uploaded it on the first day. I should’ve waited until we were further into The Event. It’s not like I’m going to have much else to share over the next few weeks, so you’ll all catch up.”
My face burned with heat. Behind me the tap dripped rhythmically, like a beating heart caught in the room, or the steady sound of a metronome about to increase its tempo, cranking the tension.
“No, this is good,” Irene said. “It’s great content. You did the right thing. Nathan, stop being jealous, okay? You have your own fans to worry about.”
“All I’m saying,” he said, shoving the phone back in his pocket, “is that the more donations she gets, the fewer we get. If it’s going to be this uneven, maybe we should talk about distributing them between us all.”
Irene held up both hands. “Why don’t we talk about this”—and then she lowered her voice—“another time?” Her eyes glanced at the cameras. I could see her point. Arguing about money wasn’t the best way to entertain subscribers. “Now, come on. We’re a team, no? Let’s do yoga. Nathan, you’re coming too.”
*
During yoga that morning, I stumbled my way through a beginner’s routine with all the grace of Bambi on ice, while Dan lifted and bent his body in impossible angles, and Nathan operated a drone to capture it all. We watched the footage back around the dining table in the refectory, analysing the meandering mountain vista, and the unfortunate close-ups of Irene’s breasts and buttocks. Leave them in, she’d said.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, publishing Maya’s origin story, and working on the next Akarthis novel. Wrist support strapped on, five thousand words written by one p.m., the story uploaded and sent to my mailing list. I tried to avoid the live-stream chat channel and my social media accounts. There was a good reason for Nathan’s outburst. Overnight I’d accrued three thousand pounds in donations, and ten thousand new Instagram followers. That number kept going up during the day as the video reached Reddit, Facebook and TikTok.
But none of that mattered, not when Maya needed to find the boys with golden stars on their foreheads. They’d been transformed into trees, guarded by a huge white wolf. I’d taken inspiration from an old Romanian fairy tale along with my afternoon on the mountain.
At two, I took a break and went to make lunch. My wrists ached from the typing and my eyes felt strained from the computer screen. I’d expected everyone to have had their lunch already, but Irene saw me walk past the snug and waved me in. She was nestled among cushions, making me think of a pampered queen in a faraway land. Perhaps Irene could serve as inspiration for a princess in Akarthis. A beautiful young woman who on first meeting came across as shallow, but who had survived hardship in her youth, and for that reason had a harsher view of the world.
“Your video was amazing,” she said, gesturing for me to sit, like a head teacher would a student. “Our numbers went stratospheric overnight, Cath. Well done.”
“Thanks. It was luck.”
“Yes,” she said. “But could you imagine Nathan helping the wolf?” She laughed and flicked her hair back.
“No, I guess not. Did you contact the authorities? I’m concerned about it out there without its mother. I think it was starving,” I said.
“Of course, don’t worry about that. I emailed a local preservation society this morning. Listen.” She leaned forward and began to speak softly. “Next time upload for the VIP members first.” She leaned back. “We need better content for them.”
“Okay, no problem. Whatever you need.”
“Well, now that you mention it. I don’t know much about you, Cath, and that means the viewers don’t either. You’re quite private, aren’t you?” The way she said it made me think that she’d run background checks on us before we’d arrived.
“I guess.”
Irene pulled her feet onto the sofa and sat crossed legged, her hair falling over one side of her face in such a manner that made her features even more Gallic. She stroked the top of her bare foot idly, with perfectly manicured fingers.
“Where did you grow up? What was life like for you? Do you have a boyfriend? I would love to get to know you better.”
Her questions ignited the same kind of creeping tension I’d experienced in the kitchen with Nathan’s petulant voice filling the room. While she leaned towards me, I shuffled away, wrapping my arms around my body, searching deep down into myself for a way to answer her questions without revealing too much, and yet it was all blank. There was little more than an empty space in there. I began to speak, not sure where I was going with my words.
“I’m from Derby. It was fine, pretty normal. I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment. To be honest, I don’t have time because I’m always writing.” I focused my attention on a small pink flower woven into the light beige fabric of the sofa. I wondered what spring would be like here in the mountains with fresh wildflowers budding in the meadows.
“What do you do for fun, Cath?”
“I write,” I said.
Irene’s eyes were like blue globes, wide and incredulous that this was the extent of me, and once again I found myself lacking.
Before she could ask me another question, I said, “You were a big inspiration to me. The way you and your mum started a new life in California, and the way you’ve always talked about your illness with such positivity. It really helped me during difficult times.” I shook my head. “It had a big impact on how I see the world. I liked what you both used to say about the power of optimism.”
I watched as her incredulity softened into pride. She smiled widely and took my hands in hers. “A strong will is everything. The way you think can change your life. I swear by it. My mother taught me to be grateful, always. Even when I had no hair and would throw up all day and night. When I was in so much pain I could hardly move, I would appreciate that pain because it meant I was still alive.” She squeezed my fingers. “Eleven years in remission. I appreciate everything life has to offer.”
She continued to talk about her years as a child suffering with leukaemia. I nodded along, half taking in her words, partly mesmerised by them. But there was another part of me, a strong one, and a fragment of myself that I didn’t particularly like, that couldn’t stop wishing, in an envious way, that my mother had imparted that kind of wisdom to me. All I ever received from her was hate.
Chapter Nine
Around four o’clock that afternoon, Irene gathered us in the refectory for a meeting. Her make-up and hair were perfection, with long curls framing her dewy face. She smiled and bright-red lips parted to reveal pearly-white teeth. She was wearing a pair of trainers that appeared to be brand new, and I wondered whether she’d been given them by a brand and asked to wear them. They weren’t her usual glamorous style. Still, her polished appearance made me feel childish in leggings and thick socks.