‘Advanced stages of… what?’ Chase asked.

  ‘SF. Simply short for seeing feelings. We once had one girl who saw all feelings as different coloured cats. That’s the better end of the deal.’

  ‘What do you see?’ Cherry said, trying to process all this, and stirring her tea so fast it sloshed over the sides.

  ‘I used to see a haze of the two. They looked like ghosts and it was hard to decipher what was what.’ Happy sipped her tea, her pinkie finger raised.

  ‘Sorry, used to? You said used to.’ Chase’s heart started beating so quickly that Cherry could feel it through the bench they were sat on.

  ‘I now have these.’ Happy delicately put her index finger and thumb around her eye and stretched the socket open wide. Cherry looked closer and saw some kind of film, a lens, sitting over Happy’s eyeball. It glinted a rainbow of colours as it caught the light. ‘These lenses were specially designed by our paranormal science department. They can detect what’s normal from what’s paranormal and filter out the feelings you don’t want to see. Clear vision means a clear mind.’ Happy flashed her hands across her deadpan face and wiggled her fingers. ‘That’s their slogan. Catchy, huh?’

  ‘Filter out? How you can just get rid of something in someone’s vision?’ Cherry asked.

  ‘We have software that detects feelings and places neutral images over them, blocking them from sight,’ Happy explained.

  ‘But surely it’s impossible to keep track of that many people? And how can you possibly know what someone should or shouldn’t see?’ Cherry pushed.

  Happy’s face gave nothing away but she answered very quickly, without skipping a beat. Almost as if she’d said the words before. ‘We’ve done numerous tests and we have some of the best minds on the planet… overseeing the whole operation.’

  ‘How can I get a pair?’ Chase asked.

  ‘There’s a two-year waiting list but for special cases they make allowances. Each time a new pair is issued, it helps us. The lenses are linked to the Guild so we’re able to see what you see. Just in case there are any glitches in the system or there’s anything you’re seeing that you shouldn’t be seeing. I’ll give you an application to fill out before I leave.’

  ‘Oh, God. Thank you. So much,’ Chase said with a big smile. He leaned across the table to shake Happy’s hand. Cherry hoped the gesture was genuine and not a side effect from the cookie he’d licked earlier.

  ‘Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?’ Cherry asked. ‘Being able to see what we see through the lenses?’

  ‘That all depends on whether you’ve got something to hide,’ Happy said.

  It really doesn’t, thought Cherry.

  ‘Sorry… I have to ask,’ Chase said, ‘Happy? Is that your birth name?’

  ‘No!’ She laughed without smiling. ‘I’m a Feeler – one of many. We are each assigned a specific feeling that we have to keep an eye on. Anytime a part of the world gets particularly ridden with our designated feeling, we have to take a visit to see what’s going on and put it right. As I said, damage control.’

  ‘I understand all of that,’ Chase said. ‘But is there a reason you don’t… look particularly happy?’

  ‘Chase!’ Cherry said through gritted teeth, jabbing him hard in the ribs with her elbow.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s a valid question and I get it a lot. Feelings are my business. If my actual feelings were to get in the way, my judgement may be compromised when having to make executive decisions on behalf of the Guild. What’s right needs to come before what feels right.’

  ‘Aren’t they the same thing?’ Cherry asked.

  ‘Not always, no. What we feel can get in the way of our work so once every six months I have to undergo a minor procedure.’

  ‘What kind of procedure?’ Cherry asked warily. She didn’t like the sound of this at all.

  ‘Just a little bit of jiggery pokery. It used to be a little zap-zap here and a zap-zap there but that had far too many… side effects. Now they have a much more efficient method of removing feelings. They burn them off like warts.’

  Cherry frowned. ‘But how? We can’t… touch them, so surely that’s not possible?’

  ‘The Guild have their ways. I’ve been with them for eight years and have yet to feel a thing,’ Happy said matter-of-factly.

  ‘That’s because you literally. Can’t. Feel. Anything,’ Chase said very deliberately. ‘I mean… removing your feelings – that’s… that’s —’

  ‘Necessary,’ Happy stated.

  ‘I was going to say batshit crazy, but if you say so.’

  Cherry jabbed Chase with her elbow again but this time a little softer as she couldn’t help but agree with him.

  Happy ignored him. ‘Right. Down to business. Firstly, I need to speak to you about your little turf war.’ Cherry and Chase suddenly found the wood of the table exceedingly detailed and were deeply fascinated by its visually intricate patterns. ‘Hmm. Did things get a little competitive? Not the first time it’s happened and won’t be the last.’

  ‘It isn’t? It won’t be?’ Cherry said.

  ‘Did you think you were alone?’ Happy asked. Cherry and Chase nodded, wordlessly. ‘Tut tut. There aren’t many of us – a few hundred in the world at most – but we’re here for you when you need us.’

  ‘How have you only just found us?’ Cherry asked, blinking hard and stealing a glance at Loneliness outside.

  ‘How do you know whether someone is a serial killer until they’ve murdered six people? It’s hard to spot until you make it noticeable. You see, those with SF are split up into Haunters and Flaunters. Most people are born with it but in some cases it lies dormant for years until one day, all of a sudden, there are monsters everywhere! Those ones are the easiest to spot. They make a big song and dance. They’re Flaunters. The people who are born with the sight think it’s normal. They deal with it from birth and more often than not just keep it quiet. It haunts them or they haunt other people with it by how they choose to deal with it. Sometimes individuals find ways to use their powers but again the majority keep it subtle. Some get rather boisterous.’ Happy made her first facial expression since she’d arrived and raised her eyebrows at the pair, like a teacher berating her pupils. ‘Nothing is ever too serious when the town is overrun by Happiness but when it swings the other way… well… let’s not go into that. HERE!’ She picked up her briefcase and slammed it onto the table, causing the porcelain mugs and teapot to rattle and a couple of cookies being lost to the floor. Happy stood up, spun the briefcase around to face Chase and Cherry and popped it open. The inside was lined with an obnoxiously yellow foam and at its centre was a small indentation in which lay a small glass bottle filled with tiny blue pills. ‘It’s Normality,’ Happy said.

  ‘There’s nothing normal about that shade of yellow!’ Chase said, squinting.

  ‘Normality pills will restore your residents to their usual state of reality. Whatever their issues and joys were before you two started meddling will be reinstated.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say we were meddling —’

  Happy held her hand up, cutting across Cherry’s voice. ‘Their bodies will be flushed of any feeling that isn’t their own.’

  ‘So, nothing I did before our… “turf war” broke out… none of that matters?’ Cherry said, palms sweating. Were they really talking about undoing all of her work?

  ‘I’m afraid not. That’s not how this works, although we have been watching you for some time now, Miss Redgrave.’

  ‘R-really?’ Cherry wriggled her hands inside her sleeves and crossed her arms.

  ‘We’re very impressed with all you’ve been doing these past few years and I actually have an offer to make you on behalf of the Guild. It’s not often that those higher up are so impressed that they offer a place to a novice but… we’d love to have you on board.’

  ‘What? Work for you?’ Cherry asked, incredulous.

  ‘Mm-hmm, that’s right.’ Happy nodded.

  ‘Would
I have to… give up my feelings?’ Cherry’s palms weren’t the only things sweating now. The room had grown awfully warm all of a sudden. Cherry felt Chase shift closer to her.

  ‘It’s standard procedure when joining the Guild, but I guarantee you won’t miss them.’

  ‘How would she even know if she missed them or not?’ Chase said. ‘Taking away someone’s feelings is like – like… taking away a limb!’

  ‘We’d never forcibly take away anyone’s feelings, Mr Masters. No need to get over-emotional. Only those who willingly take jobs with us will be asked to undergo the procedure. I must warn you though that if you turn down this incredibly generous offer, you’d no longer be able to run your bakery because of what has taken place here today.’

  ‘What?!’ Chase raised his voice and their bench scooted back as he stood up abruptly. Cherry put a hand on his arm to soothe him and he slowly sat back down.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I be able to run the bakery?’ Cherry said, blinking hard again.

  ‘One day I’m sure you’d be able to reopen; however, because of today’s over-dosing on feelings you would be required to go on a two-year training course to learn the correct and proper ways to use your abilities. You’d then be able to pitch a proposal for your bakery to the Guild and explain how you would intend to use your abilities on the unwitting public in the future.’ Happy paused for a moment. ‘I’m pretty confident however that because of today’s misdemeanour,’ she tutted, ‘you’re unlikely to be approved.’

  ‘Oh, God.’ Cherry couldn’t help it now. A few tears spilled over as she thought of losing her livelihood and everything she’d spent the last seven years building.

  ‘You can’t do this,’ Chase said, putting his arm around the sobbing Cherry.

  ‘I’m afraid we can. Don’t think we don’t have prisons of our own for people who misbehave on our territory.’

  Cherry sobbed even harder.

  ‘You really don’t live up to your name do you, love.’ Chase squeezed Cherry into him and she pressed her face into his shoulder.

  ‘We’ll give you a week to decide,’ Happy said, removing the bottle of pills and placing them on the table. ‘I trust you know what to do with these.’ She closed the briefcase and walked to the door without waiting for an answer.

  ‘What about me? Don’t I get some kind of impossible offer?’ Chase called after her.

  ‘We’ve been watching you too, Mr Masters, and we know it was you who started all of this with your brash and reckless behaviour. That reminds me.’ Happy opened the briefcase once more, dug underneath the yellow foam and pulled out a few sheets of paper. ‘Here is your application for the lenses. No doubt your special hatred for the world will bump you up to somewhere near the top of the list. You’ll get your lenses and therefore what you’ve always wanted: to be normal.’ She looked at Cherry then and said, ‘Once you’ve made your decision, we’ll know.’

  The door clicked shut and an eerie silence followed. The bakery seemed cold and unfriendly. Something sinister lingered in the air.

  Chase turned to Cherry and said, ‘Well, she was a bundle of fun.’

  15

  Belonging and Honesty

  They hadn’t spoken to each other for so long that the silence had become a lullaby. Chase felt that it would be rude to interrupt such a comforting tune so he just listened to the slosh of water and the soft clink of cutlery against ceramic. Cherry was at the sink, scrubbing plates. She squeezed the washing-up liquid bottle and bubbles spurted into the air. She filled each one with a miserable thought and then popped them all, one by one, with a single finger.

  Giving up on my shop. POP!

  Disgracing the memory of my father. POP!

  Going home and admitting defeat to everyone I know. POP!

  Saying goodbye to Sally, George, Orla, Bruce, Margie… and Chase. POP!

  Never feeling anything again. POP!

  She wished it was as easy as bursting a bubble. It felt satisfying to see her thoughts disappear with a pop but they didn’t stay gone for long and grew back in her mind like weeds, their tendrils growing over all her happy thoughts until the happiness was near impossible to see.

  ‘I’ve got to take the job,’ Cherry said. It spurted out of her mouth like one of the bubbles, but it didn’t pop. Even when Chase said, ‘What?’ and stopped drying the forks in his tea-towel-wrapped hand. ‘That’s a joke, right?’

  ‘You heard that “Happy” woman. I can’t carry on here, can I? I’m finished in the bakery business.’

  ‘She said you could train! I know it seems unnecessary as you’re already damn good at what you do but the alternative is… barbaric! It’s just madness!’

  ‘Train? For what? To be turned down years down the line? Build up my hopes again only to have them dashed by some woman named after one of the seven dwarves? I’m not doing that. I’d rather —’

  ‘Give up?’

  ‘I know when I’m beaten!’ Cherry turned to him with such a spin that water came sailing out of the sink in a tidal wave and the plate she’d been holding slipped out of her sodden hand and crashed to the floor, shattering on impact. Neither of them flinched. Chase held Cherry’s sad stare while she held his determined one.

  ‘I’m not going to sit here and let you get your feelings sucked out of your brain. That’s a sentence I never thought I’d ever say, but there it is,’ Chase declared.

  The ridiculousness of it all would have been funny to Cherry if the idea of having her mind messed with wasn’t so horribly real. ‘I won’t even know what I’m missing,’ she said, moving a piece of the broken plate around with her foot.

  ‘I’ll know. I’m not going to let you go through that… because of me.’

  ‘Stop that,’ Cherry chided gently. ‘It wasn’t all your fault, Chase. It takes two to tango.’

  ‘Yeah, well.’ He shrugged. ‘I asked you to dance.’

  Cherry wanted so badly to wish she’d never met Chase but in truth, despite his dismal outlook on life, his tendency to overreact and his desperation to be the best at everything, meeting him had been a pivotal moment in her life and she was ultimately grateful for it. Living your whole life thinking you’ll never find someone who really understands you, that you’ll always be carrying the weight of a secret, living a double life, was what had kept Cherry’s Loneliness so strong, so healthy, so real. Since Cherry had met Chase, Loneliness hadn’t grown at all. It had been kept in its place because no matter what, despite those irrational, habitual feelings that often crept up on her, Cherry knew she wasn’t really alone, not any more. She reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out the bottle of blue pills.

  ‘I’m going to whip up a batch of cakes as a parting gift for everyone in this town I’ve truly screwed over. Each containing a little bit of the Normality they deserve. That should do the trick. If they eat them, that is.’ She rattled the bottle. ‘I wouldn’t if I were them. I once ate a bad kebab from a fish and chip shop in Sheffield and I’ve not eaten a kebab since, let alone one from that place.’ She tried to laugh but it got strangled in her throat and died there so she turned back to popping her thoughts.

  Silence reigned for the rest of the night until order had been restored to the bakery. As he was leaving, Chase didn’t know how to say goodbye. He was unsure now about whether their relationship had shifted, so he just nodded – but when he turned to the street where the light had now faded and the street lamps were lit, he realised that when Happy referred to an incident, she wasn’t just talking about Orla or what had happened inside the bakery.

  ‘Oh my God.’ Starting from the doorway of the shop, Chase took in the destruction that spread in several directions. Vomit, clothes, blood, cake boxes and half-eaten cookies were strewn as far as he could see. Some of the debris disappeared in the direction of the town centre, some led to the ferry that went to The Barbican and some of it was piled around sleeping bodies that lay in the middle of the street in various states of disarray. Cherry stood in the doorway, her f
ingers starting to tremble.

  ‘It’s all right, Cherry. We’ve been given a way to fix this. We can fix this. Cherry?’

  Cherry’s ears were full of the noise of her rapidly beating heart and her blood rushing violently through her body. Chase’s voice was fading…

  ‘Cherry? CHERRY!’ Chase shouted as he caught her before she hit the floor.

  I’ll take care of it. x

  Cherry read the sticky note stuck to the wall opposite her bed with bleary, half-asleep eyes. She reached inside her cardigan pocket and as she expected, the bottle of blue pills was missing. She looked down at herself to see that she had been perfectly enveloped in bed. Chase had literally tucked her in, the sheets sitting neatly around her frame. He’d even placed a glass of water at her bedside, which she immediately downed in a few gulps. Gingerly, she clambered out from under the sheets, changed into some fresh, clean pyjamas and went downstairs to her dark and empty bakery. The mess from the night before had been cleaned off the streets and whether that had been Chase or a kind neighbour, Cherry was grateful either way. (Although she did spot one lone pair of pink frilly knickers stuck to the windowsill of the art gallery opposite.) With her outside slippers on her feet, Cherry ventured out to find Chase.

  The boat ride was colder than she’d ever experienced and each time the boat hit a wave the sea sprayed into her face. She wiped the mist off her cheeks but Loneliness liked it so much that it leaned a little further over the side. Cherry disembarked at The Barbican and the eerie silence she was greeted with made her skin prickle. She’d only visited a handful of times but it had never been this quiet, especially at the weekend. Shops that should have been open were closed and people she thought she would’ve seen were clearly shut away indoors. She crossed to the other side of the road when she approached Velina and Danior’s shop, not wanting to be seen by them and wanting to avoid her stomach churning the way it always did when she saw that red and yellow paint and those blasted white crystal ball stickers. But her curiosity got the better of her and, like slowing down and craning your neck to see a car crash on the side of the road, Cherry chanced a glance across the street. Velina and Danior were standing in the doorway, smoking their cigarettes out of long elegant holders. They watched her with hard, narrowed eyes and a chill ran down Cherry’s spine. Her knees started to wobble but she ignored them and pushed herself forward, towards the gin distillery. As she rounded the bend in the road, she didn’t need to look very hard for Chase. She didn’t even need to enter the bar. He was outside the entrance, being held by the scruff of his shirt by a man in a navy blue suit. He was much shorter than Chase but Chase was holding his hands up like it was an arrest. She could only assume he was Chase’s manager.