Erebos

  EREBOS

  URSULA

  POZNANSKI

  EREBOS

  TRANSLATED BY JUDITH

  PATTINSON

  This edition first published in 2012

  Copyright English language translation © Judith Pattinson 2012

  The translation of this book was supported by the

  Austrian Federal Ministry of Education, Arts and Culture.

  First published in Germany in 2010

  Copyright Title of the original German edition:

  Erebos © 2010 Loewe Verlag GmbH, Bindlach

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or ten per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

  Allen & Unwin

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Fax: (61 2) 9906 2218

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  A Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available

  from the National Library of Australia

  www.trove.nla.gov.au

  ISBN 978 1 74237 953 1

  Cover design by Christian Keller & Bruno Herfst

  Text design by Bruno Herfst

  Set in 10/14 pt Italian Old Style by Bruno Herfst

  Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

  For Leon

  – U.P.

  For S, T & J

  – J.P.

  It always begins at night. At night I feed my plans on darkness. If there is one thing that I command in abundance, then it is darkness. Darkness is the ground that will nurture what I desire to grow.

  I would always have chosen the night over the day and the basement over the garden, given the chance. It’s only after sunset that the deformed creatures of my mind dare to venture from their bunkers to breathe icy air. They are waiting for me to lend their misshapen bodies a grotesque beauty of their own. A lure must be attractive so that the prey only becomes aware of the hook when it sits deep in the flesh. My prey. I almost want to embrace it, without knowing it. In a way I will do that. We will be one in spirit.

  I have no need to seek out the darkness; it is always around me. I release it like my breath. Like the transpiration of my body. Nowadays people shun me; that is fine. They all creep around me, whispering, uneasy, fearful. They think it’s the stench that keeps them at bay, but I know it’s the darkness.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER 1

  Ten past three already, and still no sign of Colin. Nick pounded the basketball on the asphalt, dribbling first with his right hand, then his left, then his right again, making a short, singing drone with each ground contact. He tried to keep up the rhythm. Twenty more times – if Colin hadn’t arrived by then, he’d go to training by himself.

  Five, six. It wasn’t like Colin not to show without an explanation. He knew perfectly well how quick their coach was to kick someone off the team. Colin’s phone wasn’t on either; it was a sure bet he’d forgotten to charge the battery. Ten, eleven. But forgetting about basketball too, and his mates and his team? Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. No Colin. Nick sighed and shoved the ball under his arm. Well, that was okay – he’d finally score the most points himself today.

  Training was brutal, and after two hours Nick was soaked in sweat. He hobbled into the shower on aching legs, stood under the stream of hot water and closed his eyes. Colin still hadn’t turned up, and Frank Bethune had gone mad as expected. The coach had taken all his anger out on Nick, as if it were his fault that Colin had been absent.

  Nick washed his long hair (way too long, in Bethune’s opinion), then tied it into a ponytail with a worn-out rubber band. He was the last to leave the gymnasium. It was already getting dark outside. On the way down the escalator to the Underground he got his phone out of his bag and hit the speed dial. After the second ring Colin’s voicemail picked up, and Nick hung up without leaving a message.

  Mum was lying on the couch, reading one of her hairdressing magazines and watching television.

  ‘There’s only hotdogs tonight,’ she said, almost before Nick had closed the door behind him. ‘I’m completely worn out. Can you get me an aspirin from the kitchen?’

  Nick dumped his sports bag in the corner and tossed an Aspirin Plus C tablet in a glass of water. Hotdogs. Terrific. He was starving to death.

  ‘Isn’t Dad home?’

  ‘No, he’s going to be late. It’s a colleague’s birthday.’

  Nick scanned the fridge on the off chance that there was something more desirable than frankfurts – maybe the leftovers from yesterday’s pizza – but no luck.

  ‘What do you think about that business with Sam Lawrence?’ Mum called from the living room. ‘Can you believe it?’

  Sam Lawrence? The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t put a face to it. When he was exhausted like today, his mother’s coded messages really got on his nerves. He gave her the aspirin and thought about popping a tablet himself.

  ‘Were you there when they came to get him? Vera Dillinger told me the story today while I was doing her tips. She works in the same company as Sam’s mother.’

  ‘Help me out here. Does Sam Lawrence go to my school?’

  Mum eyed him with disapproval. ‘Of course he does. He’s only two years behind you. Now he’s been suspended from school. Didn’t you hear about the whole drama?’

  No, Nick hadn’t, but his mother was happy to fill him in with all the details.

  ‘They found weapons in his locker! Weapons! Apparently there was a gun and two flick knives. Where does a fifteen-year-old get a gun from, can you tell me that?’

  ‘No,’ said Nick truthfully. He hadn’t heard a thing about the drama, as his mother called it. He thought about massacres at American schools and gave an involuntary shiver. Were there really such sick people at his school? His fingers itched to ring Colin. He might know more about it. But Colin wasn’t answering, the lazy sod. Just as well, maybe, because Mum was probably exaggerating again. This Sam Lawrence had probably only had a water pistol and a pocketknife on him.

  ‘It’s terrible, all the things that can go wrong as children grow up,’ his mother said, and gave him that look that meant my precious bunny, my little one, my baby, you wouldn’t do such a thing, would you?

  It was this expression that always made Nick think perhaps he shoul
d move in with his brother.

  ‘Were you sick yesterday? You should have heard Bethune swearing!’

  ‘No. I’m fine.’ Colin’s red-rimmed eyes were fixed on the wall of the school corridor next to Nick’s head.

  ‘Are you sure? You look awful.’

  ‘Positive. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’ Colin glanced briefly at Nick’s face before he went back to staring doggedly at the wall. Nick stifled a snort. Since when had lack of sleep mattered to Colin? ‘Were you out somewhere?’

  Colin shook his head and his dreadlocks swung back and forth.

  ‘Fine. But if it’s your dad again, and he’s —’

  ‘It’s not my dad, okay?’ Colin pushed past Nick and walked into the classroom, but he didn’t sit down at his desk. Instead he strolled over to Dan and Alex, who were standing by the window, absorbed in conversation.

  Dan and Alex? Nick blinked in disbelief. The two of them were so uncool that Colin always called them ‘the Girl Guides’.

  Girl Guide number one, Dan, was distinctly on the short side, and you got the impression he was trying to make up for it with his exceptionally fat behind, which he loved to scratch. Guide number two, Alex, had a face that changed from couch-potato white to stop-sign red in record time every time someone spoke to him. Every time.

  Was Colin intending to go for the role of Girl Guide number three?

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Nick muttered.

  ‘Talking to yourself?’ Jamie had come up behind him, slapped him on the back and sent his tatty bag skidding right across the classroom. He grinned at Nick, revealing a set of the crookedest teeth to be found in the school.

  ‘Talking to yourself is a bad sign. One of the first symptoms of schizophrenia. Are you hearing voices as well?’

  ‘Rubbish!’ Nick gave Jamie a friendly shove. ‘It’s just that Colin’s getting friendly with the Guides.’

  He glanced over again, and did a double take. Hang on. That wasn’t getting friendly – that was grovelling. Colin’s face wore a pleading expression that was completely new. Instinctively Nick moved a couple of steps closer.

  ‘I don’t see what the problem is if you give me a few tips,’ he heard his friend say.

  ‘I can’t do that. Stop making a fuss – you know that perfectly well,’ said Dan and crossed his arms over his flabby belly. He had egg yolk stuck on his school tie.

  ‘Hey, come on, it’s no big deal. And I’m not going to dob you in.’ While Alex was looking at Dan uncertainly, it was clear from Dan’s face how much he was enjoying the situation.

  ‘Forget it. You’re always so full of it – you’ll have to figure your way out of this yourself.’

  ‘At least —’

  ‘No. Just shut your trap, Colin!’

  Any second now. Any second Colin would take Dan by the shoulder and send him flying across the aisle. Any second.

  But Colin lowered his head and gazed at the tips of his shoes. Something was fishy. Nick strolled over to the window and joined the threesome.

  ‘So, what’s going on with you guys?’

  ‘Did you want something?’ Dan asked belligerently.

  Nick looked back and forth from him to the other two. ‘Not from you,’ he replied. ‘Only from Colin.’

  ‘Are you blind? He’s busy right now.’

  Now Nick was stunned. Just who did this guy think he was?

  ‘Oh, is that so, Dan?’ he said slowly. ‘What would he have to talk to you about? Selling Guide biscuits maybe?’

  Colin threw him a quick look from his brown eyes, but didn’t say a word. If his skin hadn’t been so dark Nick would have sworn that he was going red.

  This couldn’t be happening. Did Colin have some terrible secret that Dan knew about? Was he blackmailing him?

  ‘Colin,’ Nick said, ‘Jamie and I are meeting some people after school at Camden Lock. Are you in?’

  It was a long time before Colin answered.

  ‘Don’t know yet,’ he said, his gaze fixed resolutely out the window. ‘You should probably count me out.’

  Dan and Alex exchanged a meaningful look that gave Nick an uneasy feeling in his gut.

  ‘What is all this about?’ He took his friend by the shoulder. ‘Colin? What’s going on?’

  It was that pathetic moron Dan who took Nick’s hand off Colin’s shoulder. ‘Nothing that concerns you. Nothing you would even know the first thing about.’

  At five-thirty it was standing room only on the Northern Line. On the way to the cinema Nick and Jamie were jammed in between tired, sweaty people. At least Nick towered over the masses and got unused air, but Jamie was hopelessly wedged in between a suit and a large-bosomed matron.

  ‘And I’m telling you, something’s wrong,’ Nick insisted. ‘Dan was treating Colin like his lackey, and he treated me like a little kid. Next time I’ll ...’ Nick paused. What would he do next time? Thump Dan? ‘Next time I’ll straighten him out,’ he finished his sentence.

  Jamie shrugged one shoulder; there wasn’t space to do more. ‘I think you’re talking yourself into something,’ he said calmly. ‘Maybe Colin is hoping Dan will help him with his Spanish. He tutors lots of people.’

  ‘No. That wasn’t it. You should’ve heard them!’

  ‘Then perhaps he’s plotting something.’ Jamie’s grin widened, reaching right to his back teeth. ‘He’s taking the piss out of them both, don’t you get it? Like the time he convinced Alex that Michelle really liked him. That joke lasted for weeks.’

  Nick had to laugh despite himself. Colin had been so convincing that Alex had practically stalked the shy Michelle. Of course it all came out and for a couple of days Alex didn’t manage to change colour at all. He stayed bright red.

  ‘That was two years ago, when we were only fourteen,’ said Nick. ‘And it was infantile rubbish.’

  The carriage doors slid open and a few people got out, but far more pushed in. A young woman in high heels stepped on Nick’s foot with all her weight, and the pain banished all thought of Colin’s strange behaviour for a short while.

  It was only later, when they were sitting in the dark cinema and the trailers were showing on the giant screen, that the image of Colin alongside the two freaks appeared before Nick’s eyes. Alex’s face glowing with zeal, Dan’s superior grin. Colin’s embarrassment. There was no way it was about tutoring, no way.

  * * *

  Nick didn’t see or hear from Colin for the whole weekend, and on Monday he barely spoke to Nick. He always seemed to be on the go. At one recess Colin saw him pass something to Jerome. Something slim made out of shiny plastic. Jerome looked mildly interested while Colin went on at him, gesticulating madly, before he rushed off again.

  ‘Hey, Jerome.’ Nick went over to him, deliberately upbeat. ‘Tell me, what did Colin give you?’

  Jerome shrugged. ‘Nothing much.’

  ‘So let me see it.’

  For a brief moment it looked as though Jerome was going to reach into his jacket pocket, but then he changed his mind.

  ‘Why are you interested?’

  ‘No reason. Just curious.’

  ‘It’s nothing. Anyway, go ask Colin.’ With that, Jerome turned away and joined a few kids who were discussing the latest football results.

  Nick fetched his English books out of the locker and strolled into class, where as always Emily caught his eye first. She was drawing with great concentration, her head lowered. Her dark hair hung down to the paper.

  He tore his eyes away from her and headed for Colin’s desk. But Girl Guide Alex was in residence. He and Colin had their heads together whispering.

  ‘You can get stuffed,’ Nick muttered grimly.

  Colin wasn’t at school the next day.

  ‘They could be up to just about anything. Hey, I’m normally more suspicious than you!’ Jamie slammed the door of his locker for emphasis. ‘Has it occurred to you that maybe Colin’s got a crush on someone? That’s when most people start acting crazy.’ Jamie rolled his eyes.
‘Maybe it’s Gloria. Who knows. Or Brynne. No, she pines only for you, Nick, you old charmer.’

  Nick was only half listening, because two boys from Year 7 were standing further down the corridor, outside the toilets. Dennis and . . . a boy whose name Nick just couldn’t think of. At any rate Dennis was doing some fast talking at the other boy as he shoved something under his nose: a narrow, square package. It looked very familiar to Nick. The other boy grinned and discreetly spirited the thing away into his bag.

  ‘Perhaps Colin’s madly in love with sweet Emily Carver?’ Jamie was still speculating. ‘He’d be up against it with her; that would explain his bad mood. Or maybe it’s everybody’s favourite – Helen!’ Jamie poked the plump girl hard in the side just as she was trying to get past him into class.

  Helen spun around and gave him a shove that sent him halfway across the corridor. ‘Get your hands off me, arsehole,’ she hissed.

  Jamie recovered quickly after the initial shock. ‘But of course. Although with your looks it’s a real struggle. I’m crazy about pimples and blubber.’

  ‘Leave her in peace,’ said Nick. Jamie looked astonished.

  ‘What’s the matter with you? Have you joined Greenpeace? Save the walruses and stuff?’

  Nick didn’t answer. Jamie’s jokes at Helen’s expense always left him feeling like someone was throwing firecrackers at cans of petrol.

  The Simpsons was on television. Nick sat on the couch in his tracksuit pants and spooned lukewarm ravioli out of a can. Mum wasn’t home yet. She must have been in a rush and done a sloppy job with her packing again, since half the contents of her ‘toolkit’ were lying around the living room floor. Nick had trodden on a hair roller as he’d come in and nearly fallen flat on his face. Chaotic Mum strikes again.

  Dad was snoring in the bedroom and had hung his ‘Do not disturb – sleeping in progress’ sign on the door.

  The ravioli can was empty and Homer had driven his car into a tree. Nick yawned. He’d already seen the episode, and anyway he had to go to basketball training. He got his things together without much enthusiasm. At least Colin might show up today, since he’d missed the last training session. It wouldn’t hurt to ring him and remind him. Nick tried three times, but he only got voicemail, which Colin was well known for checking about once in a blue moon.