Miles’s dad stands between Miles and Reubyn and wings his arms around their shoulders. ‘No dramas – exactly. This is what life’s all about, you know; you stick together and look after each other. I’m proud of you lot. Just tell me what flights you want, and we’ll get them booked.’
A conversation begins about flights and the various travel options available to them. New Zealand is bang on the opposite side of the world, so it doesn’t matter if they fly east or west, with stopovers in Asia or North America, it’ll take roughly the sameamount of time – twenty-four hours, minimum – to get there. No one seems concerned about the distance. If anything, it’s pleasingly symbolic: their friend is moving on, leaving his past far behind. Reubyn senses the mood in the room lifting at all mentions of it; voices are getting louder and gestures more animated, and hope soars all around – Miles is back, a new chapter is beginning, and soon they’ll be off on an adventure where untold freedom and wilderness await.
The conversation meanders on, covering everything and anything concerning New Zealand –is it true sheep outnumber people ten to one?– until all their knowledge of the country, whether verified or supposed, has run dry. After about an hour, various threads of conversation fragment, and Reubyn finds himself in a corner talking to Elis. There was a short while when he saw Elis at least once a week, but this is the first time they’ve spoken since Miles was charged. They discuss the trial and Elis’s stint in the witness box. It’s all a bit heavy, and Reubyn is glad when he changes the subject. ‘How’s the channel going?’ Elis asks.
‘Good, thanks,’ Reubyn says. ‘It’s really been taking off in the last six months or so.’
‘I saw that one about the abandoned theme park. Didn’t it get like half a million views?’
‘Yeah, that one did well. You never know what people are going to like, I guess.’
Reubyn’s being modest, of course. He’s been a content creator for years now and has developed a pretty good feel for the kind of videos that are going to fly. When he first saw images of the derelict Wonder Park, with its broken rides, crumbling towers and rotting kiosks strangled by climbing weeds, like some post-apocalyptic hellscape, he knew he had to go in there and film. It was a tad risky, but it was worth it: the visuals were incredible, and it all fitted in perfectly with the emerging themes of a rebellious spirit and oddball sense of adventure found onhis channel. But really, it was all in the selling. He didn’t title the video ‘Abandoned theme park’, as summarised just now by Elis. Reubyn has learned to be more creative than that. When he made the thumbnail, he manipulated the colours in the image, making the gaudier shades of the broken roller coaster brighter and the sky a steelier grey, and overlaid a cut-out of his own face contorted into a Munchian scream, along with the words:Is this the creepiest theme park on Earth?Who wouldn’t click on that?
‘Are you going to be filming while we’re away?’ Elis asks.
‘I hope so.’
‘Like a travel vlog kind of thing?’
‘No, not exactly,’ Reubyn says. ‘That’s such a crowded space.’
‘So, what then?’
‘I’m thinking I might do a little wildlife thing.’
‘Wildlife?That’s a bit twee for you, isn’t it?’
‘This won’t be.’
Elis raises his eyebrows – an appeal for further details.
Reubyn waves a dismissive hand. ‘I don’t like to discuss stuff like this when it’s still in the planning stages – I feel like I might jinx it, you know? I do have an awesome surprise for Miles, though. For all of us, actually.’ He scans the room for Miles but can’t see him.
Elis tilts his head. ‘What is it?’
For a second, Reubyn considers telling him. But, no, it can wait a little longer. Especially as the agreement isn’t completely finalised yet. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘This is like trying to get blood out of a stone.’
Reubyn laughs and checks the room again for Miles. He’s distracted by the buffet on the sideboard, which is lined with trays containing remnant quantities of crostini and tartlets and other glistening gluten-y lumps that he can’t touch because of his allergies.
Elis starts up again, talking about rock climbing and a trip he took to the Dolomites last summer. Reubyn is still scanning the room, half listening to something about limestone and the sunny side of the Alps. He nods along for a couple of minutes and then cuts Elis off, raising his voice in no particular direction: ‘Has anyone seen Miles? He’s been gone ages.’
Chapter 8
Miles
Miles lies on his bed, his eyes closed, while the last of the guests are being herded out downstairs. He’s exhausted, his fuzzy brain ready to shut down, and it feels like a weight is being applied to his body from above, pushing him deep into the mattress. He didn’t realise he was running on pure adrenaline, and once that wore off, his body turned lifeless and empty. After a few hours of well-meaning-but-awkward platitudes and congratulations, he was hit by a wave of tiredness so strong it wiped him out, and he had no choice but to remove himself from the situation and go upstairs. The massive sense of relief at being a free man still remains, but somehow even that has taken a toll. It seems that when all the tension and anguish left his body it took all his energy with it. He’s happy, of course, but it feels hollower than expected, and there’s something else – this growing sense that things still aren’t quite right. That conversation he had with the reporter has been playing on his mind, and he suspects there could be more bad headlines coming his way. Maybe they’ve already been written. He knows he shouldn’t check, but he can’t resist. He opens theTribuneapp on his phone, and, sure enough, there it is. A new story. A sickness forms in his stomachat the sight of the first picture: it shows him, standing at the front door of the house, wine glass in hand, stupid grin on his face. It must have been taken the second he opened the door, when he thought he was about to greet his old friend. The picture has been cropped so tightly around Miles that the reporter can’t be seen. The headline says:Free Bird! Miles Deverill hosts party with champagne and Lynyrd Skynyrd to celebrate not guilty verdict.And there are other pictures, including one which is simply a close-up of the magnum George brought with him. They must have had a camera pointed at his house for hours – maybe they still do. He reads the story.
Exclusive by Anthony O’Neill
Aspiring actor Miles Deverill has toasted his freedom with a champagne-fuelled house party just hours after being found not guilty of murder.
Mr Deverill, 30, was acquitted earlier today after a jury took just four hours to conclude he was not responsible for the death of social worker Caira Kennedy, 40, who was strangled with her own scarf last year.
By 7 p.m. this evening, just hours after the verdict, friends had arrived at his family’s £3 million home, including one who turned up with a £120 magnum of Bollinger.
And guests enjoyed the champagne while listening to party hits including ‘Celebration’ by Kool & The Gang, and Lynyrd Skynyrd’s 1974 anthem ‘Free Bird’.
