gran will be angry with me if you skip a meal.”
“I’ll have a hot chocolate,” I told her.
Dad sat beside me while Rachel put a mug of milk in the microwave. Microwaves break up all kinds of protein molecules, which wrecks milk’s nutritional value—but she meant well.
“Just the film that bothered you?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“All right. But I’d like to go with you to the next one, okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned in close. “And don’t mention the microwaved milk. Please?”
I gave him an astonished look.
“You’re my son,” he said with a lopsided smile. “I do listen to you, even though I screwed up with the PlayStation.”
I thought I might start crying.
Rachel stirred chocolate powder into the milk and brought the mug over to me.
“Thank you, Rachel. That’s very kind of you.”
I think she looked as shocked as I felt.
I got into my pajamas and went to bed. I didn’t open my laptop, but I did check that the catapult was still there. It was.
Vladimir McCann was a murderer. Rather…he will be. He’s going to kill Michael.
I suppose that’s when my soul is born into this Julian body. So it shouldn’t bother me. After all, I’m living this life because of that murder.
But Michael and Jyoti are expecting a baby. I loved Jyoti when I was Michael. I don’t think love like that will ever happen to me in this life. We could have spent decades together. All that love will be lost now. Never to exist. That’s not fair. There’s so much suffering in the world already, what right does Vladimir have to take away a piece of genuine happiness from anyone, let alone me?
Jyoti will be devastated. And the baby. What will happen to the baby? It’ll never know its father. It’ll never know me.
Worse, my Julian life starts after Michael dies, so I never knew my own child. The baby won’t know that its father’s soul is alive. And even if it did, as Julian I can never be a proper father to it. I still miss Mum terribly, and I know her soul is safe and sound somewhen. Michael’s baby won’t have even that small comfort.
There’s only one thing I can do. The right thing: stop Vladimir before he shoots Michael. In the memory, Michael heard Nancy call out—she’s the security woman on the door, the one with CND earrings. She said
I know you
just before Vladimir fired the gun. She must have recognized him. But she wasn’t quick enough. If I’m there, I can let her know earlier, in time to stop it.
That way Michael will live. Which might be a slight problem. My soul leaves his body to live in me. What’s going to happen if he doesn’t die on time? Does that mean I don’t get born?
It’s a paradox. I really hate paradox.
But there’s only one way to find out.
—
The news the next morning was all about the Bank of England’s announcement that it was increasing the base interest rate by a quarter percent.
“Finally!” Dad exclaimed as he was eating his breakfast toast. “Savings are going to have a purpose again.”
“Going to be busy this morning,” Rachel agreed cheerfully. “The City will go bananas over this news.” She popped a vitamin pill. “How are you feeling now, Jules?”
“Fine, thanks.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. The reporter on the morning news was standing outside the Bank of England, talking excitedly. People were hurrying past in the background, their faces all creased up and urgent.
“Take it easy today, okay?” Dad said to me. “What are you going to do?”
“Maybe some schoolwork. I want to get well ahead on the science curriculum before term starts.”
“All right. I’ll try and get home early, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
“Good lad, you.”
I wonder if he realizes how much like Barney he sounds sometimes?
I took my time getting ready. Two hoodies again, the catapult in my inside pocket. I put the ball bearings into a plastic box, the type you get to keep food fresh. I laced my trainers up
“I’ll have a hot chocolate,” I told her.
Dad sat beside me while Rachel put a mug of milk in the microwave. Microwaves break up all kinds of protein molecules, which wrecks milk’s nutritional value—but she meant well.
“Just the film that bothered you?” he asked quietly.
I nodded.
“All right. But I’d like to go with you to the next one, okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned in close. “And don’t mention the microwaved milk. Please?”
I gave him an astonished look.
“You’re my son,” he said with a lopsided smile. “I do listen to you, even though I screwed up with the PlayStation.”
I thought I might start crying.
Rachel stirred chocolate powder into the milk and brought the mug over to me.
“Thank you, Rachel. That’s very kind of you.”
I think she looked as shocked as I felt.
I got into my pajamas and went to bed. I didn’t open my laptop, but I did check that the catapult was still there. It was.
Vladimir McCann was a murderer. Rather…he will be. He’s going to kill Michael.
I suppose that’s when my soul is born into this Julian body. So it shouldn’t bother me. After all, I’m living this life because of that murder.
But Michael and Jyoti are expecting a baby. I loved Jyoti when I was Michael. I don’t think love like that will ever happen to me in this life. We could have spent decades together. All that love will be lost now. Never to exist. That’s not fair. There’s so much suffering in the world already, what right does Vladimir have to take away a piece of genuine happiness from anyone, let alone me?
Jyoti will be devastated. And the baby. What will happen to the baby? It’ll never know its father. It’ll never know me.
Worse, my Julian life starts after Michael dies, so I never knew my own child. The baby won’t know that its father’s soul is alive. And even if it did, as Julian I can never be a proper father to it. I still miss Mum terribly, and I know her soul is safe and sound somewhen. Michael’s baby won’t have even that small comfort.
There’s only one thing I can do. The right thing: stop Vladimir before he shoots Michael. In the memory, Michael heard Nancy call out—she’s the security woman on the door, the one with CND earrings. She said
I know you
just before Vladimir fired the gun. She must have recognized him. But she wasn’t quick enough. If I’m there, I can let her know earlier, in time to stop it.
That way Michael will live. Which might be a slight problem. My soul leaves his body to live in me. What’s going to happen if he doesn’t die on time? Does that mean I don’t get born?
It’s a paradox. I really hate paradox.
But there’s only one way to find out.
—
The news the next morning was all about the Bank of England’s announcement that it was increasing the base interest rate by a quarter percent.
“Finally!” Dad exclaimed as he was eating his breakfast toast. “Savings are going to have a purpose again.”
“Going to be busy this morning,” Rachel agreed cheerfully. “The City will go bananas over this news.” She popped a vitamin pill. “How are you feeling now, Jules?”
“Fine, thanks.” I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. The reporter on the morning news was standing outside the Bank of England, talking excitedly. People were hurrying past in the background, their faces all creased up and urgent.
“Take it easy today, okay?” Dad said to me. “What are you going to do?”
“Maybe some schoolwork. I want to get well ahead on the science curriculum before term starts.”
“All right. I’ll try and get home early, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”
“Good lad, you.”
I wonder if he realizes how much like Barney he sounds sometimes?
I took my time getting ready. Two hoodies again, the catapult in my inside pocket. I put the ball bearings into a plastic box, the type you get to keep food fresh. I laced my trainers up
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