‘Yep, hello. What’s up?’
My heart leaps into my throat and my mind goes completely blank. ‘Um,’ I stumble. ‘Hi, is that Melissa?’
The voice hesitates. ‘What? Who?’
‘Melissa?’ I know I’m playing a dangerous game here because a） If this is Melissa, then who the hell am I supposed to be? And b） if this isn’t Melissa, then who the hell is she?
‘No, I’m not Melissa. I’m Nina. Who’s Melissa?’ she asks with annoyance.
It’s a curveball question. I definitely have the correct buzzer number so I leave the question hanging a second longer. I hear the sound of a muffled conversation, then:
‘Oh shit. Sorry, sorry. Yeah, Mel’s not here. Actually, you know what, I’m coming down. Wait there.’ The intercom cuts out and I wonder if I should run.
I rack my brains for an answer as to who I am when Nina inevitably asks again, but my musings are cut short by the arrival of a bouncy, pastel crop-top-wearing twenty-year-old.
‘Hey, man. Sorry, who are you again?’ she asks with an easy affability.
‘I’m, just, I’m a friend of Mel’s,’ she raises an eyebrow at my accent. ‘From England,’ I add.
‘Oh, okay. So you’re not on the board, right?’
‘The board?’
‘The residents’ board?’
‘Er, no. Why—’
‘Oh, okay. That’s cool. Yeah, so,’ the girl continues, relaxing her weight against the doorframe, ‘Mel’s been subletting to us, which we thought was fine but, well, she’s been leasing to Karen actually, but we’re all paying. Anyway, point is, Mel’s not here. She doesn’t live live here right now. Sorry, man. I think Karen might have her cell though, if you want it? Did you come all the way from England to see her?’ she asks.
‘No. No, I didn’t. Listen, odd question, but,’ I push on, ‘did Mel’s place come fully furnished? Are all her things still in there?’
‘Like her books and stuff? Yeah. Why? We moved them into the small room though. Like, they’re safe and everything, so—’
‘No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t sure. Sorry to bother you. I didn’t know she was away. I’ll call her. I have her cell already. Thanks.’
‘Oh, okay. Cool. So, we’re fine?’ she asks, more concerned about how she will come out of this interaction than with who or what I might be.
‘Yeah, you’re fine,’ I tell her. She smiles and shrugs, then disappears back into the building.
I wander back towards the park, a sinking feeling dragging me down to the truth of what I just witnessed. This is what Robert meant by people ‘fading away’。 Melissa is gone, but the cogs of her life are still turning. Someone is keeping it all going, for now – subletting her apartment, paying her taxes and responding to emails when necessary. Melissa has become a ghost.
I am now as sure as I can be that every woman on Robert’s list is dead: Bobby’s girlfriend, Edward’s girlfriend, Matilda’s girlfriend, Stuart’s assistant, and a girl who got caught in the crossfire.
I feel anger fizz inside me at the fact I cannot untangle the knot Robert has presented me with. There is really nothing more I can do but go to The Hydes and face whatever he has laid in store for me.
I plonk myself down on a bench in the park opposite Melissa’s old apartment and let my eyes play over the treetops as the breeze sways them. And then it hits me. Oliver is the only Holbeck not to have lost someone. Fiona is alive and well. They are happily married with kids and, now that I think about it, Oliver is the one who took over the company after both Bobby and Edward stepped aside. He seems to have come out of it all a lot better than the rest – could he be the key to this in some way?