Stealing Time by Rebecca Bowyer (bearly read books .TXT) 📗

Kir creased his four-year-old brow, testingout where his worry lines might carve their groove into his face inyears to come.

“But you’ll come next week too?”

“Yes, I’ll come next week too.” Varya smiledsadly. She knew it was normal for young children to have no senseof time, but Kir had even less sense of the beats that marked thedays than most. When day is day and night is day and each visit ofhers felt like just a few minutes apart or sometimes hours, it wasimpossible for him to learn the difference between seconds,minutes, hours, days. The units of time and the passing of them hadbecome meaningless for him. He could spend as much time as heliked, and his account would simply refill. He never moved forward.He gained knowledge but no wisdom because his childlike braincouldn’t process. Facts were all a jumble inside his head. Bladesof grass and vast cities held equal importance in his mind.

But perhaps that was for the best, Varyareflected, given Kir’s situation. Children are unique in theirability to live in the moment, to enjoy each flower stem, and toquestion the ladybug climbing up it. When you’re sealed inside atimeless world, living in the moment is what will keep yousane.

Varya looked at her mother, who watched Kir,with a fond smile. It was a gift her mother had retained throughouther life, this ability to enjoy what was right in front of her. Itwas a peaceful existence, Varya reflected, though one that neededprotection from other, more practical people. Such as herself.

Varya heard rapid banging in the distance,muted, but still there. She sighed and stood.

“I should go,” said Varya.

Kir nodded solemnly.

“Yes, Mummy. You go and find me a cure formy poor body.” He put his little hand against his chest. Varyapressed her own hand gently over his, cupping it against hischest.

“I will. Don’t you worry, I’ll find it.”

Elena cocked her ear and glanced in thedirection the sound came from, back from where Varya had steppedthrough the shimmering air. Elena nodded at her daughter.

“You go. We’ll be fine.”

“I think we’re nearly there.”

Elena smiled. “There’s no rush. We haveplenty of time.”

Chapter four

Back in her apartment, the banging grew louder andmore insistent. Varya took one last look at Kir’s bedroom, arrangedjust as he had left it five years ago. A mass of coloured pipecleaners twisted into bracelets on the crafting table; the Legostidied away into their container—too difficult for a tired, sicklittle boy to play with any longer—and a dozen stuffed toys liningthe bed, within easy reach whenever comfort was needed. Then shestepped out of the bedroom and shut the door, pressing her palmagainst it, and waiting for the whoosh and click which indicatedher son and mother were safely secured.

She checked the security camera beforeunlocking the apartment door to Marisa.

“Sheesh, took you long enough. What were youdoing, painting your nails?” Marisa swept past Varya and headedstraight to the kitchen, flicking on the coffee machine. “I’ve runout at home and the local store doesn’t know when they’re gettinganother shipment. The border’s been closed again, too many climaterefugees leaking through. I’m dying for a cup of hot, velvetycaffeine.”

“You’ll be up all night if you have onenow,” warned Varya, glancing at the display on the refrigerator.20:55. She pulled two cups down from the top cupboard,nonetheless.

“That’s okay, we’ve got work to do. I’ve gotseveral new clients for you tonight.” Marisa rubbed her thumb andforefinger together suggestively. “Rich ones. Seriously rich. Readyto make big donations to your cause in exchange for a few extrahours.”

Varya regarded her warily. “Not my cause.You didn’t tell them about me, did you?”

“No, of course I didn’t.” She grinned andsplayed both hands out on the table, puffing out her chest.“Besides, it does my marketing good for them to think I’m amysterious agent working for the poor sick kiddies. Either that orI’m a one-woman genius working for myself. I’m not sure they reallycare, as long as they get their receipt for their legitimatelytax-deductible donation.” She leaned in, her bosoms pressingagainst the table as she pouted her lips. “Either way, I’m thewoman who can give them exactly what they want, all while takingtheir hard-earned money and making them feel good about it.”

Varya ran her tongue around her teeth andraised an eyebrow.

“You use that line on all our clients?”

Marisa laughed. “Now they’re ‘our’ clients?”She shrugged. “I only use that line on the stupid ones with morebillions than brains.”

Varya sighed and sat down at the kitchentable. Marisa fascinated, impressed, and exasperated her in equalmeasure. She’d met her at a seedy bar on the city fringes.

Varya made the pilgrimage there each nightafter Kir was gone, just to sit and be somewhere entirelydifferent. She would sip her gin and tonic at the bar, watchingpeople come and go, imagining them to be in equal amounts of pain.Imagining them to be suffering unimaginable losses, just like her.It was somehow comforting. Marisa was the one who topped up herdrink each night, who succeeded in drawing her story out of her,bit by bit.

It was Marisa who suggested Varya could dosomething with her talents, albeit under the radar, to help otherfamilies avoid her pain and loss. To search for cures for the rarediseases that the government refused to fund research for. It wasMarisa, too, who offered to help as foundation fundraiser. And asVarya started to make enquiries and arrangements to set up theMinor Miracles Foundation, and to think through funding options,she began to take her suggestion more seriously. She’d watch Marisachange her demeanour like a chameleon. Flirty bantering with thelocal men on a Friday night to persuade them to upgrade their orderto the best steak rather than just a burger because, well, they’dearned it, hadn’t they? Cajoling angry truckers wielding pool cuesto step down, calm down, or the drink they had just hurled at thewall would be their last at this bar. Charming travellingbusinessmen by expertly building complicated - but manly -cocktails and charging them double for the pleasure of watching herwork.

One night she’d taken Marisa to a localrestaurant and put a proposal to her. Marisa quit work