Unread Messages

Two weeks prior.

Canary Wharf, East London.

The lock gave a quick beep followed by some clanking and clunking. Elizabeth pushed the heavy glass door open and slipped inside the building. In a panic, she’d texted her friend and colleague Cass, asking for some last-minute sanctuary for the night. “Not going to be home for a while but here!” came the response, along with a QR code. She lived in a brilliant little high-rise in Canary Wharf that let her generate a guest entry code. Clever, though the style left much to be desired. The lobby was mostly cold, grim steel. The decor in these Canary Wharf apartment buildings was offensively inoffensive, the usual “dystopian vision of the future” that the FinTech crowd seemed to prefer. She groaned and rubbed her shoulders while she stared at a painting of Tower Bridge in the lobby. Underneath it was written “London Bridge” in script. She grimaced and placed her phone against the elevator panel. It lit up with her photo next to Cass’s photo, and the elevator doors glided open.

She hoped walking into Cass’s apartment would be a relief, but she still felt so tense. She’d discretely collected an overnight bag together and ducked out while Mike was still steaming and stewing in the kitchen. Surely he’d notice any minute now, if he hadn’t already. She dreaded to think about the inevitable texts and calls.

The apartment was gorgeous, though. She’d actually never been here. A floor to ceiling window took up one wall and looked out over the neighbouring buildings. She was on the 14^th floor, high enough to see quite a bit of the city lights glittering below. It wasn’t spacious, of course. Most of the room was a bright yellow sofa, a writing desk, a small but well-stocked bar and a truly stunning amount of plants of all sizes. A narrow hallway ran down to a few closed doors, presumably the bathroom, kitchen and bedroom. You definitely traded space for location here.

Knowing what she knew about Cass, the arrangement of the furniture was about expected. No television, and the sofa sat facing the window, a small coffee table between it and the world. She pictured Cass sat there, sipping a gin, staring out at the city lights.

Elizabeth slung her bag on the floor by the desk, deposited her phone, then collapsed on the sofa to do likewise, though minus the gin. She had no energy to make herself a drink. Within a minute she was passed out, slouched over to one side. Stress and repressed rage had a way of making her sleepy.

She awoke to the door opening some time later, Cass letting herself in. Her bag hitting the floor. Elizabeth kept her eyes shut but rolled to one side, her back to the window, her face buried in the upholstery. She laid there, arms tucked close, listening to the silence, occasionally interrupted by the sound of a zipper moving, of shoes being flopped onto the carpet. A door opened, a light clicked on. The shower started running. Elizabeth smiled slightly. She loved the sound of the running water. Cass had left the bathroom door open, and steam started to roll out into the rest of the room. It made Elizabeth start to actually relax. Her fight-or-flight response calmed down. Her shoulders and back were tight, almost throbbing with pain. Laying squished up on the sofa surely wasn’t helping.

She sat up and caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the window. Her hair was a fright, her eyes were puffy from the crying, and she had crease lines on her face from the nap. She could only laugh, so she did. She felt so far away from her problems, in this small room, this safe space, the city stretching out below her. Her mind drifted to the pyjamas in her bag.

Would she gamble that Cass wasn’t going to want to go out? She would. She took her blazer off and tossed it to one side. She caught her reflection again, sat on the edge of the sofa, her shoulders slumped and her belly protruding. She instinctively straightened up, sucked in her stomach. She shook her head and slouched back down. Inhaling and exhaling, she told herself: “You’re okay. You’re okay.”

“You’re awake!” Cass shouted out from the shower. “I didn’t want to disturb you, and your text sounded like you were in a pretty bad way.” Elizabeth looked over her shoulder but stayed sat on the far edge of the bed.

“I’m awake.” Her voice cracked.

“I can’t really hear you! Come in here,” Cass shouted back, a bit playfully.

“Ha. I said I’m awake! Are you going to want to go down the pub? Or out-out?” Elizabeth was shouting, and her voice was so shaky, her throat so scratchy. This was not the first time today she’d been shouting.

“Let’s do it! I’ll be out in a few minutes. Won’t be long.”

Elizabeth stood up and looked at herself again in the reflection. “Fuck,” she whispered to herself, then crossed the room to her bag. She could freshen up a bit at least. As she went to pick up the bag from the floor she caught sight of her mobile on the desk. The screen flashed up another notification: “Mike Fernsby – 7 unread messages.”

Ugh.

She stood there frozen, staring down at the screen. Mike’s found a way into her bubble, as ever. Her fault. She knew he can’t leave well enough alone. She should’ve turned her phone off, or at least muted his notifications. Whenever they fight, he can’t switch it off. She asks for space, he refuses to grant it. She asks if they can pick this up in the morning, he says he can’t sleep unless they resolve it.

“Mike Fernsby – 8 unread messages.”

She picked up the phone and walked back across the room. She sat perched on the very edge of the sofa, staring at it. Feeling it vibrate lightly in her hand each time. Running her fingers around the cold metal edges.

“Mike Fernsby – 9 unread messages.”

Swiping her finger up and down the screen, watching it animate the notification bubble bigger, then smaller, then bigger, then smaller. Not quite unlocking it.

“Mike Fernsby – 10 unread messages.”

The sound of the shower was soothing. She focused on that instead, and stared at a nearby Monsterra. Feeling the glass of the phone screen under her fingertip as she dragged it back and forth. Picturing the animation in her mind’s eye, avoiding looking at the actual screen.

Suddenly the vibration intensified, startling her, pulling her back into focus. She looked down.

“Mike Fernsby – Incoming Voice Call.”

She closed her eyes again and inhaled, then exhaled. The exhale got caught in her throat and she coughed. She held the phone between her palms, her fingers tapping and drumming the back rapidly.

“Mike Fernsby – Missed Voice Call.”

Swipe. She made eye contact with the phone and it animated to life, taking her straight to the messages. A wall of text, insurmountable. Words and phrases jumping out as she tried not to read it.

“—trying to protect what we have⁠—”

“—just get so worried⁠—”

“—know it’s not my place, but⁠—”

“—feel like you love your job more than⁠—”

“—childishly running off any time we⁠—”

She locked it again and let it drop to the floor. A thud, the heft of the phone bouncing off the gaudy, rock-hard carpeting. Elizabeth started crying. She stared at the phone on the floor. Vibrating, but face down. She started to sob uncontrollably. So much built up from the day already, by the time she got to Mike. All she’d wanted to do was have him listen, even if he didn’t understand. And now she was here.

“Liz, my god.” Cass was shocked. Elizabeth looked up sharply and saw her in the reflection on the window, standing behind the sofa wrapped in a towel. The shower was off now, the last bit of steam billowing out into the hallway.

“Christ, I’m so sorry.” She sniffled hard, tears streaming down her face. She wiped her hand across her cheeks quickly. “I was just going to get some bits from my bag to freshen up.”

“No, don’t do that. You’re hurting, god, look at you.” Cass sounded sincerely concerned. She sat down on the sofa next to Elizabeth and put one hand on her shoulder. “What happened?”

Elizabeth started to answer but couldn’t find the energy to say anything. She just shook her head a few times, otherwise frozen. Cass grimaced, looking briefly panicked, unsure what to do. She put her arms out.

“Can I hug you?”

Elizabeth nodded and threw her arms around Cass. Her sobs were full body heaves as she felt everything come spilling over the wall. The cabinet meeting. The horrifying conversation after. The hopelessness. Mike treating her like she was crazy, like she was somehow threatening their life with her “work problems.”

They squeezed each other tightly.

“My god, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Cass whispered in Elizabeth’s ear, rubbing her back. The warmth of the embrace felt wonderful. As did the sobbing. She hadn’t cried this hard in, well, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever cried this hard.

Her sobs calmed down a bit. She let go and leaned back to see Cass still looking very concerned. She laughed a little.

“Christ. I’m so sorry. This is not a great start to our gal’s night out.” She was still wiping tears from her eyes and cheeks. Absolutely wrecked. No going down to the pub like this. Cass stood up.

“Please don’t apologise. You seemed so out of sorts when you texted earlier. I’m assuming because of your bloody husband, or the bloody government.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Bit of both?” She looked at Cass who stood there in front of her. A rare sighting of her without heeled shoes on. Indeed, this was more of Cass than she’d ever seen. Blonde hair matted against her coarse, freckled skin. Gorgeously vivid tattoos from her shoulders going down both arms. A wild, stylised Cheshire Cat, some other characters she didn’t recognise, someone waving a huge orange, white and pink flag, and so many flourishes, vines, and details. None of this was ever visible in her usual all-business attire. And what was she, 5 foot 2? “Jesus, you’re tiny! And what? Cassandra Cooper MP, you have tattoos! You’re blowing my mind. Who are you?”

“Why, thank you! I do pride myself on being a little mystery.”

Elizabeth booed. Cass did as much of a curtsy as one can in a towel wrap.

“I have some on my back as well! Buy me a drink first. I’m kidding.”

They both laughed, and the laughter was nice. Her brain fog lifted and she finally felt present. She shook her head, her eyes widening. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know I have it in me to go downstairs to the bar. I’m really sorry. I might just shower and pull myself together?”

“Good thing about me is, I have my own bar, right here in the flat.” Cass smiled and winked. A huge weight lifted.

They kitted out in pyjamas, blow-dried their hair and said very little, which was exactly what Elizabeth wanted. It was extremely cosy. Her propped up on the bed, a couple lamps and the lights of the City providing a nice glow. Cass mixed their second round of gin & tonics in the other room and delivered them to the bedside table.

There was a brief attempt to broach the topic of Mike, but Elizabeth quickly waved it off and suggested they watch the news. It was an easy sell for people in their line of work. Cass had her TV hanging on the wall across from her bed. Terrible for healthy sleep. But perfect if you want to hide that you have a television from random houseguests.

And of course with the news on it was only a matter of time before Elizabeth’s problems came crashing back down on them.

“The government announced today the Public Works Act will soon receive a second reading in Parliament,” the BBC presenter said neutrally. Elizabeth moaned. Cass leaned forward. “The long-awaited bill, announced in this year’s King’s Speech, promises to quote ‘get Britain working again’ with quote ‘a job for everyone,’ according to the minister for Works and Pension Elizabeth Marsh.” Elizabeth slid down the headboard and moaned again, as bullet points from the bill appeared on screen next to a video loop of her exiting 10 Downing Street earlier that day.

Cass reflexively pulled away from the TV, then shot Elizabeth a hard glance. “You are now the face of this horrifying legislation?” She sounded disgusted. “Did you put this on so I would see it and harass you? Because I’m game. I will bloody terrorise you.”

“I hate it, Cassie,” Elizabeth sighed. “It’s the wrong approach. I came into office saying ‘you know, this AI stuff, let’s slow down, let’s regulate automation, let’s pause consolidation.’ And now⁠—”

Cass nodded. “I do recall this, yes.”

“Yes, and, now we’re just giving up,” Elizabeth said.

“You hear Magenta’s footsteps approaching your bedchamber. Close one’s eyes, open one’s bank account, and don’t you dare think of England.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, I know. More than you know, I know. And you should see this bloody legislation. It’s⁠—”

“—Liz, I’ve seen it.” Cass downed her drink. “I see it when I close my eyes. It appears to me in my dreams. It’s fucking slavery.”

Elizabeth sneered. “That’s a bit inflammatory, yeah? It’s aggressive. It’s too aggressive. I completely agree. But we still need to put people to work, we can’t just give the whole country benefits forever. Unemployment is set to double every six months.”

“Have you tried doing something about that part instead? And if you completely agree⁠—”

“—What do you propose we do?” Elizabeth was trying to keep her anger in check, her friendship with Cass becoming increasingly strained lately. Their political differences finally coming to the fore after all this time, Elizabeth assumed.

“Stop letting corporations buy each other? Stop loosening employment laws?” Cass was incensed. “Christ Liz, you told me what the problems were the night we met! That was only a couple years ago, what changed?”

“It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated?”

“It’s so much worse than I expected. Than we expected, I mean. Cassie, we’ve lost millions of jobs. So many millions. These companies have been squeezed on every side. Another firm goes broke every week in every industry. And Magenta have absolutely perfected stepping in to pick them up, automate them, enact layoffs. What company would turn that down and choose to implode instead?”

Cass shook her head, and had been shaking her head during most of Elizabeth’s speech. “No, no. You can regulate everything you’re describing. You’re choosing not to do it. You’re allowing this to happen.”

“This is happening with or without us. It’s progress. It’s market forces. We can’t be anti-progress. This genie will not go back in the bottle. And we do⁠—”

“—I cannot believe what I’m hearing, Liz. I cannot believe it.” Cass gathered up their glasses and headed to the living room. “Same again?”

“Yes, that’s fine, thanks.”

“How do we even have the energy for what you’re describing?” She trailed off as she vanished into the living room. Elizabeth got up and followed. “Aren’t we in the middle of a power crisis? I’ve had two blackouts this week already. Isn’t this because of the new Magenta AI data centre in Hounslow?”

Elizabeth dismissed that with a wave and an eye-roll. “Are you joking? Trafficking in conspiracy now over at Labour? Do you know how ridiculous you sound⁠—”

“—oi, look. Don’t belittle me. You’re not Mike and I’m not you.” Cass handed over a fresh drink, then walked round to the couch and sat down with her own.

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth remained standing, drink in hand, now staring down at the back of Cass’s head. “That’s extremely uncalled for.”

“You’ve come a long way in a couple years, I’ll give you that.” Cass raised her glass sarcastically. “You can launch into a character attack one breath to the next. The Tories have trained you well.”

“Looks as if we both can.”

“Bab, I’m not some yampy little girl you can mug off. I’m a member of Parliament just like you. If you want to discuss this then let’s discuss it.”

Elizabeth walked around and sat down on the couch next to Cass. “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry about the Mike comment.”

“Oh, don’t. You’re not wrong, he does belittle me.”

Cass turned, crossing one leg under herself, putting her arm up behind Elizabeth. “Liz, do you honestly thing this is the right thing to do? This is your bloody floor of the building. You’re a minister. I’m just barking from the back bench.”

Elizabeth let out a huge sigh. “We have to do something. But it shouldn’t be this. It shouldn’t be, yeah, we’ve lost millions of good jobs, but don’t worry, because you can get a mandatory work placement. Just come build nuclear power plants for the government. We know you were originally a television writer but don’t worry, we’ll train you. Here’s a free cot and a hot meal. No pay, is that fine?”

Cass snorted. “Well now wait, I’m sold. Will you throw in a Union Jack tattoo?”

“Those are mandatory as well.”

“Do your constituents want this?” Cass rolled her head around. “I suppose that is worth considering. I say that grudgingly, mind.”

“Oh, you should hear them. Every letter and email straight from a template provided by the Daily Mail. But they just hear, I’ll get a job. They need one of those.”

“Maybe,” Cass said with a hint of defeat in her voice, “maybe this is better than it reads on paper. I can’t argue with⁠—”

Elizabeth was shaking her head again. “This just takes me up to today. We’re current now.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Magenta wrote the bill, Cass. This is all tailored to a business plan they came up with.”

Cass shoved her lightly. “Shut the fuck up.”

“We were on a video call with their CEO and the PM literally today. I found out today. This is why I am here. This is why I’m so at odds with myself tonight.” Cass’s mouth was agape. She had a few false starts, air escaping with no words to accompany. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Christ, Elizabeth, you cannot be serious. You’re the minister for the department. Just… pull the plug. Threaten to resign if they don’t let you.” She was flapping her hands about, spilling drops of drink here and there. “Or actually resign, and go public. Call for the PM’s resignation. You know I would support you, we would support you.”

“Slow down, Cassie. Slow down.” They both took a breath. “We’re wrapping the whole identity of the party up in this ‘a job for every Brit’ thing. And there’s collective responsibility. I’d be sacked the moment I took a different position publicly.” She took a long sip of her drink and stared at the wall. “And resigning… means you’re on the outside. You can’t change anything from the outside. And, I don’t know. There’s pressure. Family pressure. Peer pressure. Many pressures. Resigning would seem like I’m giving up, I can’t handle it.”

“Can you handle it,” Cass said pointedly. “That would be my question. If you’re saying a thing is beyond your control, and it’s something you supposedly do control.”

Elizabeth had a sour look on her face. She took a quiet sip.

“Go on Breakfast or Good Morning Britain,” Cass continued. “You can WhatsApp a producer right now and be on tomorrow morning.”

“I would be sacked. It wouldn’t change anything.”

Cass stared at Elizabeth. “You’re just stonewalling. Why are you— no, I don’t understand. Are you… do you want my help? Or do you just want me to absolve you of your sins?”

“I don’t know.” She sank down into the sofa, cupping both her hands around her drink. She brought it to her lips and slurped it. “What if it… what if it leaked to the press? Is that something?”

“It’s something, Liz. But it’s a huge risk. If you’re worried about being sacked, especially. And it makes the information seem dodgy. And if you’re connected, it makes you seem dodgy. All on top of your being sacked over it.”

Elizabeth nodded. She slid over a bit, putting herself fully in front of Cass’s arm, nestling in. “I know.” Cass looked down at the top of her head and let out a clipped sigh. She finished her drink and set her glass on the table, then took Liz’s and set that down next to it.

“Liz, why are you here?”

“I can’t talk to anyone about this. Not anyone else in government, not any other friends, talking to Mike about it was a disaster.” She slid down a bit more, resting her head on Cass’s arm. “You’re who I came to, Cassie.”

Cass sighed. She ran her hand through her hair, and again, and again. “You are a frustrating lady. Pretty, but frustrating.”

“You keep doing that,” said Liz, looking up at Cass. “Running your fingers through your hair.”

“I do, oh, I do.” She rubbed her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m anxious. I’m drunk. The room’s spinning a bit.” Cass was slurring her words a bit.

“It is.”

“I do it when I’m anxious, run my fingers through my hair. Do you ever do that? It feels nice, makes a nice sound. Feels good in the brain. Calms me down.”

“Yeah?”

“Here, lay down.” Cass shimmied into the corner of the sofa. Liz stretched her legs out, letting them dangle off the other end, and rested the back of her head on Cass’s chest. Cass gently pushed her fingers into Liz’s hair and slowly ran them front to back.

“You’re right, that is nice,” Liz said. She closed her eyes while Cass continued. “Talk to me?”

Cass chuckled. “Talk to you?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Talk to me about something else. Anything.”

“Well…” Cass said, in an almost whisper. “You’re the first guest I’ve ever had in this flat. I hope you like it.” Liz felt floaty and tingly all over. She could feel Cass’s chest vibrating as she spoke. Her muscles were finally relaxing, aside from the way her legs were forced to dangle over the hard edge of the couch. “I kept meaning to invite you over. I needed time to mentally prepare myself for you to bring Mike as well. Sorry, that was mean.”

Liz smiled, but kept her eyes shut. “I suppose it worked out.” Cass brought her other hand down, pushing all her fingers through Liz’s hair. She scratched lightly with her fingernails that time, dragging them slowly across Liz’s scalp. “Ohhh, god, Cassie, a scalp massage too? You spoil me.”

“I don’t know if you deserve it.”

“I don’t know if I do, either. But I’ll take it.” She opened her eyes, hoping the room would stop spinning. “Cassie, you got me drunk.”

“Sorry, I think I did my me pour for you, too. A bit too heavy for company. That’s for when I’m just sat here staring out at Canary Wharf.”

Liz gasped and tilted her head way back to see Cass’s face. “You do that! I knew you do that. I pictured it when I saw where the couch was. You’re so twee.”

“And apparently easy to read,” Cass added.

“I just know you,” said Liz.

“Speaking of. D’ya wanna see my other tattoo?”

“I do.”

She slid out and off the couch, and Elizabeth grudgingly sat back up properly. Cass stood just in front of Elizabeth, her back turned. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “It’s silly, don’t laugh.” She slid the bottom of her pyjama top partway up. Elizabeth leaned forward on the couch to see it better. A woman in a green dress, with long flowing red hair, laid across a rock on a beach. Before her were waves, a bit of ocean. Parts of the top and bottom were obscured, and there was a shadow such that Elizabeth couldn’t make out all the detail. “D’ya like it,” Cass asked.

Elizabeth moved her hand towards Cass’s back. “What is it?” She took the pyjama top in her fingers and lifted it a bit more, sliding the bottom down a bit as well. It was a full scene, stretching across her whole lower back. Even in the dim light she could see it was vividly coloured.

“It’s supposed to be Miranda,” Cass said, craning her head around. “From The Tempest.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Really!” She laid her hand on the tattoo and Cass jolted.

“Cold!”

“Shit!” Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. Terrible circulation.” She dramatically blew into her hands and rubbed them together to warm them up. Cass rolled her eyes and laughed. “It really is breathtaking, Cassandra. I can’t believe I never knew this about you.”

“You sort-of knew! Not this part specifically.”

“I suppose.” Liz put her hands on Cass’s hips, running her thumbs gently over the design. She felt Cass shivering, then felt the goosebumps on her skin. “God, my hands are so cold. Sorry.” She leaned in and studied the design, stared at the face of Miranda, splayed out on the rock, looking out at the ocean. Almost imperceptibly small was a quote on a small scroll along the bottom. Elizabeth whispered as she read it. “At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer…”

“…what I desire to give, and much less take,” Cass continued. She was looking back at Elizabeth, a sly grin on her face. “What I shall die to want.” She slowly turned around, placing her hands over Elizabeth’s, keeping them on her hips, her pyjama top slipping down to cover them. “But this is trifling, and all the more seeks to hide itself.”

“You still remember quite a bit of it.” Their eyes met. Elizabeth could feel her heart pounding in her chest. “It’s beautiful.”

Cass smiled even wider, her voice shaking. “I am your wife, if you will marry me.” She bit the tip of her tongue, a cheesy grin on her face. “If not, I’ll die your maid.” She stepped closer and looked down at Liz, who looked up at her in a bit of a daze. “I’m sorry!” She was even shakier, a bit panicky. “Ahh, sorry! Sorry. I’m getting all swept up and I’m going too far, and I’m, I’m misreading things. I don’t want to, well⁠—”

“—don’t want to what,” Elizabeth whispered.

Cass stared, her mouth part-open, her throat creaking. The words wouldn’t come out.

“…don’t want to what…”

“Ahhh, can I kiss you?”

Elizabeth’s mind was in a blender. Her heart was still racing. She felt her face go hot, her body tingled everywhere. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up, then felt Cass’s lips against hers.

The next morning, Elizabeth stirred awake with a splitting headache. She pressed her hand over her eyes as if it could somehow relieve the pain. Cass was curled up next to her in the bed, face pressed into her side, one arm draped over her stomach. She could hear her snoring gently, fast asleep. The room looked so small in the day, the bed barely fitting into the exact space allocated for it. Her pyjamas balled up in the tiny space between the bed and the window.

She felt cold. Freezing, in fact, on top of the duvet. She needed to finish sobering up. She needed to get out of here. It was Saturday. She had all weekend to formulate a plan. To find time to speak to Mike. To smooth things over.

A hand, sliding across her stomach. A kiss on her chest.

“Mmmm, good morning. I’m fockin’ hungover, bab.” Cass’s voice, so raspy, her lips brushing against Elizabeth’s skin as she talked. Elizabeth’s whole body tensed up instantly. If she were a rubber-band she’d be in danger of snapping apart.

“Morning.” Elizabeth sounded as stressed as she was. “I can’t believe how late it is. I’ve got so much on today, I should’ve set an alarm, I’m so stupid.”

“Is everything okay?” Cass’s voice was still so raspy, but now she also sounded a bit worried. Elizabeth pulled and pawed at the duvet until Cass joined her in the effort to get it over them. They both laid under it. Cass rolled on her side and faced Liz. Liz faced the ceiling. “Lizzie, you haven’t looked at me once.”

“I have a really bad headache.”

“I’m sorry, my fault. I do, too.” Cass leaned in for a kiss and Liz recoiled instinctively. Cass’s eyes went wide. She froze. Liz still wouldn’t look at her. “What’s… what’s wrong, I don’t understand.”

“This is, I, I’m just. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to⁠—”

“—Didn’t mean to what.” Cass’s defences were fully up now. She glared at Liz, both of them still frozen in place.

“No, no, not that.” She let out a ‘tsk.’ “Maybe that. Cassandra, I’m married.”

“Barely!”

“You either are or you aren’t, Cass! I definitely am!”

“Well, I’m not, Liz. And if you’re going to just lie and pretend you don’t know how I feel about you, how I’ve always felt⁠—”

“—I don’t even know what to do with that statement, Cassandra. I really don’t.” She rolled over, facing her back to Cass, and stared out the window. The sun was striking the adjacent tower perfectly, creating such a beautiful scene, the glass shimmering in the morning light, high above the chaos of everyone down below. She inhaled slowly and closed her eyes, wishing her headache would simply go away.

They both laid there for a bit, quietly, and listened to each other’s breathing, with the occasional footsteps coming through the ceiling from the flat above. Elizabeth’s mind was increasingly focused on how she would explain any of this, followed by whether she had it in her to even do anything about the works bill, Magenta, any of it. Whether she had the power, or even the desire.

“Maybe,” Elizabeth said, “maybe it’s one of those things you just let happen and hope to fix later.”

“Oh?”

She rolled over to see Cass had been facing the same way as her. Perhaps both of them had been looking out the window. She saw Cass, finally, for the first time this morning. She looked tired, vulnerable. Her hands tucked up under her face, her elbows together, covering her chest. She looked at Elizabeth expectantly, though without any hope. Curiosity in defeat. It gave Elizabeth this uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, spreading through her whole body. Rising panic, anxiety, desperation. Cass now distrusted her, maybe even disliked her. Mike was already upset with her, and would almost certainly leave her now, if he hadn’t already decided to for other reasons. And Cass was right — something was happening in her department of government, and somehow she still couldn’t stop it.

She raised her hand and placed it gently on Cass’s face. “Hi.” She caressed Cass’s cheek with her thumb.

Cass smiled a nervous smile. “Hi.”

“It’s just a lot, I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Cass said.

“Yeah?” Liz was intrigued.

“Yeah. I have a plan.”