The Transition by Luke Kennard

Author:Luke Kennard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-11-07T05:00:00+00:00

26

WHEN KARL GOT IN he could hear a creaking, pummelling sound coming from the first floor. He didn’t call. He took off his coat very quietly. From the staircase he could tell that it was coming from Janna and Stu’s bedroom and he paused by their door before climbing the ladder up to his quarters. Their bedroom door was old and still had a keyhole from the era when everyone had locks everywhere. The thudding and creaking had an irregular rhythm, sometimes resolving into a rapid drumming whose pattern soon changed. Karl held his breath, got down on his knees, closed one eye and pressed his cheek to the cold metal of the lock mechanism. His vision was bordered black, but he could see clean across the bedroom to the trapeze, which was winched a little higher than when Genevieve had swung on it.

Janna was dressed in a blue two-piece Lycra running outfit. She sat on the trapeze with both legs dangling from one side of the bar, leaning against the rope like someone lying in a hammock in an American novel. Then she flipped downwards as suddenly as an illustration in a pop-up book and hung from one leg, her hands together pointing to the floor. She worked up a swing and grabbed the bar with both hands, spun fully around twice and brought herself down so that she was supported on the bar by her stomach, as if swimming in mid-air, then she jumped, wrapped one leg around both ropes, twisted as if unravelling and landed on her feet facing away from him.

Karl almost burst into applause. He was shaking. Any transgression, he had noticed, gave him a pronounced tremor. Then Janna peeled off her top and rolled down her leggings and stretched. Karl stared at her through the keyhole, and told himself that now would be a good time to move quickly and quietly down the stairs, but he didn’t. He watched her tie a pink towel under her shoulders.

‘You can come in if you like,’ she said, as if to no one in particular.

Karl stopped breathing momentarily.

‘Honestly,’ she said, untying her hair. ‘I don’t mind. I think it’s sweet.’

Karl stood up, his face burning. He turned the doorknob with a noisy click, pulled the door open, but didn’t enter the room.

‘Look at you,’ said Janna, smiling. ‘Don’t be so embarrassed.’

‘I’m …’ Karl felt like a little boy. ‘I’m really sorry for spying on you.’

‘You were just curious,’ said Janna. She tightened the towel under her shoulders. ‘It’s a trapeze.’

‘I know,’ said Karl. ‘I thought it only swung back and forth.’

‘It’s Intelligent Cable,’ said Janna. ‘Can be hard as a crowbar or bendy as a bit of string. You just twist the end. Developed –’ she grinned – ‘by one of The Transition’s protégés. Do you want a go?’

‘Oh, no thanks,’ said Karl. ‘I think I’d need to be in better shape.’

‘Well, you’ll get there,’ said Janna. ‘I’m going to have a shower. I’m afraid there’s no keyhole in the bathroom.

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