Stay

29 February 2044.

London Bridge Station, Central London.

It didn’t take long for Elizabeth to find Siobhan. Not that she was looking. But nevertheless, there she stood in the ticket hall, between Elizabeth and the door to the train platform. She was a formidable presence even as Elizabeth towered above her.

“Miss Marsh.” Siobhan’s voice was calm, if a bit sleepy. It was nearly noon, and judging from her looks, she’d been up all night and all morning.

“Are you tracking me?”

“What?” She chuckled. “Tracking you?”

“How did you know I’d be here?”

Siobhan nodded over her shoulder. “The 12:30 to Cambridge. I took a guess.”

“Right.”

“Dude. We need to talk.”

“Siobhan, I need to know we didn’t do this.”

“I think we should go somewhere to talk.” Siobhan smiled and took a step forward, her hand reaching out towards Elizabeth’s.

“No. I need you to say it.” She pulled sharply back. They stood a foot apart in the empty hall, boxed in by glass, the sun warming Elizabeth’s back, her long shadow stretching across the space between them. “Tell me we didn’t do this.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Elizabeth’s breathing was shallow. Her throat tightened, her face an involuntary grimace. “I can’t believe it.” She pulled her arms tight across herself, rubbing her hands up and down her biceps. She felt the colour leaving her face.

“Miss Marsh.”

“Cassandra was right. She was right. About you, about everything. I can’t.”

“Miss Marsh,” Siobhan’s tone was of measured concern. She squinted in the sunlight. “I think you’d better sit. You’re looking faint. You’ve not been well.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No. No! I’m sorry, but no.”

It was quiet for a time, the two of them standing opposite each other. Elizabeth could see a few strangers milling about on the platform just a dozen or so feet away. She nodded imperceptibly, following a couple with her eyes as they meandered down the length of it. Part of her, a tiny fraction, wished it had somehow been Cass standing there, waiting to ambush her. So she could’ve apologised. The apology that had been rolling around in her head the entire tube journey back from Canary Wharf. To explain what really happened that day at The Grand Hotel. She owed that, at least.

“Elizabeth,” Siobhan finally broke in, “where are they?”

“What?”

“Where are they?” There was an edge to her now, her ferocity that was always just below the surface.

“Oh, you mean your bloody passes. The passes I got for you. The passes you duped me into getting for you.” Her voice got louder with every word. “The passes you used to bloody kill⁠—”

“—Whoa, dude, no,” Siobhan hissed through gritted teeth. “Nobody focking died. Okay? Lower your voice.”

“People were hurt!” She didn’t lower her voice.

“What, some corrupt politicians? Some Magenta middle management? The hospital was empty! That was the whole focking point, Miss Marsh! No patients, no staff, no focking humanity. Yeah?”

Elizabeth closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Siobhan. I’m at a loss. I can’t even begin.” She lowered to a hushed whisper. “You’ve…you’ve made us terrorists. You’ve made me complicit in terrorism. Do you have any idea?”

“Miss Marsh, I absolutely do.”

“Okay, fine. You know what? I can see that. The manipulation. The exaggeration. The lies. And now violence! Nothing’s beneath you, nothing’s stopping you from getting what you want. Is that it? I didn’t want this, Siobhan. I wanted to do it right.”

Siobhan stepped to one side, out of the sun, and a bit closer to Elizabeth. “I never lied to you, Miss Marsh. Maybe I wasn’t offering it up, but you didn’t want to hear it anyway. You’ve barely wanted to hear anything.”

“You were managing me.” Elizabeth turned to face her. “You were just managing me and using me. I never would’ve possibly even considered going along with⁠—”

“—exactly, dude.” She clapped her hands and smiled. “You never would’ve considered it. But you didn’t have to. I took care of it. And please, we’re using each other. Your book is everywhere now, you’re everywhere now.”

Elizabeth scoffed and spun on the spot, then began pacing around the hall. She wrung her hands together repeatedly, the leather of her gloves creaking, her hands sweating as the winter sun baked them.

“Miss Marsh. You want back into Parliament. You want to try to put things right. I respect that. And I want to help you.” Siobhan threw her hands up, exasperated. “I have helped you! Have you seen our poll numbers today?”

“Not like this.”

Siobhan groaned and shook her head. “Change is messy! Look around us! Look around this city, this country! The mess created by the last change is piled up around us. But we’re waking people up to it! Your words inspire them, and I show them they can actually stand up and do something! We’re focking brilliant at it, yeah?”

Elizabeth felt her purse vibrating, and looked up instinctively. The 12:30 to Cambridge was gliding into the platform. People started gathering their things, queuing near the doors. Siobhan looked over at the train, then at Elizabeth.

“Miss Marsh.”

“I never meant for it to get to this point, Siobhan. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I never should’ve come back to London in the first place. It’s just gotten so goddamned messy.” She opened her purse and took the phone out. “I bloody tapped in with this, the train guard is going to be in a tizzy,” she muttered to herself as she dropped it into Siobhan’s waiting hand.

“The passes,” Siobhan said curtly.

“Right. It’s fine. They’re gone.”

“Gone?”

“I took care of them.”

The tannoy rang out a chime, and a pleasing synthetic voice followed. “Please board now for your twelve-thirty British Rail service to Cambridge.” Elizabeth looked over her shoulder as the few stragglers left on the platform climbed aboard the train.

“Christ. That’s me, then.”

“Miss Marsh?” Telltale beeps filled the air as the doors prepared to shut. The tannoy made one final plea to finish boarding.

“What is it, Siobhan?”

“Stay.”