‘All right, I s’pose.’ He bent down to pick up Ben, then looked at Anna and frowned.
‘What’s that?’
His eyes were on the soft, pink suede book that Anna was holding, and she reddened. It still felt slightly illicit, writing down her thoughts for anyone to see.
‘I got my journal back,’ Anna said awkwardly. ‘They sent it to me. There’s a letter for you too, from Mrs Pincent, from the prison. From your mother, I mean . . .’
She took out a piece of cream paper and handed it to Peter, who frowned and pushed it away.
‘Not interested,’ he said dismissively, then he looked at her curiously.
‘Are you still writing in that thing?’ he asked, his eyes taking in the pen Anna was holding.
Anna looked at him defensively. ‘I was just writing about the house,’ she said, ‘and Ben, and life on the Outside.’
Peter shook his head. ‘Anna, you have to live life on the Outside, not write about it. Come on, I want to go for a walk, and I want you and Ben to come with me.’
Anna looked at him hesitantly. She loved going out – spent all her time out in their small garden, marvelling at the colour of the grass, at the flowers growing, thinking how beautiful and majestic Nature was, how lucky she was to be able to see the sky unhindered. She felt as if she could breathe in the entire sky. She loved pointing things out to Ben, like birds and clouds, knowing that he’d never be deprived of them. But then the garden was safe territory for Anna; walls and fences protected her. She’d physically left Grange Hall behind, but she still felt safest within boundaries, even self-imposed ones.
‘People always stare at us,’ she said quietly.
‘Let them,’ Peter said, with a shrug. ‘In fact I like them staring. I hope we terrify them. Young people. Scary teenagers.’
He pulled a face, and Anna found herself laughing.
‘You’re not afraid of anyone, are you?’ she said, looking at him in wonderment. ‘Don’t you mind people whispering behind our backs? Don’t you mind that no one likes us?’
Peter raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t like them either. Don’t have time for people who think they deserve to live for ever. Anyway, people do like us. The Underground like us.’
Anna nodded awkwardly. Peter had already joined the Underground Movement. In spite of the danger, he spent most of his free time doing secret errands and sitting in on furtive meetings held in random places around London, which were only announced half an hour before. Peter relished the idea of a revolution, and when they were alone, he talked excitedly about the battle ahead, but it made Anna nervous. People always died in battles, and she didn’t want to lose anyone else. Especially not Peter.
‘So come on,’ Peter said impatiently, his eyes darting around in their familiar manner but with excitement now, not trepidation. ‘Let’s go outside. Let’s go scare the old people.’
He grinned encouragingly, and Anna, who could never resist Peter, put her journal down, smiling.
‘Get Ben’s coat,’ she instructed Peter as he leant over to kiss her, then she started to put on her shoes.
But as Peter left the room, she picked up her journal again. Perhaps it was time to stop writing, she thought to herself as she flicked through the pages. Perhaps it was time to start living instead. But not before her journal was properly finished. The new fable of Anna and Peter had barely started, she knew that, but that didn’t mean that her journal couldn’t have its own ending.
Thoughtfully, she picked up her pen and turned to the back page, then started to write.
Life on the Outside is very different from Grange
Hall. Better different. Wonderful different.
There are no Rules, and no Instructors. There’s no beating, or punishments, and I’m learning to cook with food from the maximarket and learning to plant vegetables in the Allotment.
We have a computer in our house, and it tells us the news and we can talk to people with it. Peter’s teaching me to type, and he says I’m going to be very Valuable to the Underground because of my ‘inside knowledge’ of Surplus Halls. He told me that the Underground say all of us are Valuable because we’re ‘young, and the young are the future’.
Being Valuable is different from being a Valuable Asset, though. No one owns me any more, they said. I can do what I want with my life. All of us can.
I don’t know what I want to do with my life yet. Peter wants to fight for the Underground – he’s always talking about ‘war’ and ‘revolution’, and he insists that they’re going to stop Longevity, and that afterwards there won’t be Surpluses any more.
I worry more about the Surpluses now, though. About Sheila, and Tania and Charlotte and even Charlie. Because they’re still at Grange Hall, still in that cold, grey prison, working to pay for their Parents’ Sins, working to be Valuable just because Legal people got here first.
I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. And when I ask Peter, he frowns and talks about the ‘bigger picture’ and needing to focus on the cause, not just the effect.
I don’t know about that. But I do know that the world is the most beautiful place to be and that we’re very lucky to be here. I know that we have to live each moment because we won’t be here for ever, and that I wouldn’t want to be anyway, because knowing something’s going to end makes you appreciate it more, makes you want to savour every moment.
And I know that I won’t sign the Declaration, even if it makes me different, even if it makes me suspicious. Because no one needs to live for ever.
I think that sometimes you can outstay your welcome.
I also know that I’m not Surplus Anna any more.
I am Anna Covey: Opt Out.
GEMMA MALLEY
Gemma Malley studied philosophy at Reading University before working as a journalist and a civil servant. The Declaration is her first book for young adults and she has completed the sequel, The Resistance. She lives in London with her family.
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Berlin and New York
First published in Great Britain in September 2007 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
36 Soho Square, London, W1D 3QY
First published in the USA in October 2007 by Bloomsbury USA Children's Books
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010
This electronic edition published in November 2010 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Copyright © Gemma Malley 2007
The moral rights of the author have been asserted
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages
A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978 1 4088 1809 1
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Gemma Malley, The Declaration
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