Aged 37, park bench scene

Scanning the wooded area to the left of the walkway through the park, Aurelie smiled as she noticed a grey squirrel sniff and scratch at the undergrowth behind the wooden bench she was aiming for. The seat was unoccupied as usual, a feat which once would have been a relief but had long since become a complacent expectation. These rare, fleeting moments of Aurelie’s day, the ones where she could be alone and without question, were like little pockets of air in days spent underwater. Just enough oxygen to stop her from drowning in corporation, in rules and regulations, in secrecy and politics. Just enough to maintain her aged and waning dream of working on top level science.

Aurelie lowered herself onto the seat of the bench and allowed herself to relax a little. The tension in her neck and shoulders was irritatingly noticeable after a morning spent bent low over her microscope, but she reminded herself to be grateful for her research and for her lab, and that she hadn’t yet been pulled into some kind of awful suit job where she had to schmooze and socialise with people who couldn’t give two hoots about the science behind their money making schemes. She breathed deeply, consciously. Feeling the way the fresh, cool air hit her sinuses and made her feel alive. Yes, these moments were essential.

Years ago, when she had discovered this secluded yet sunny area on a lunch time wander, she had used this time alone to dream of her future career. She had planned and mulled and dreamt as a young scientist in their first important job would. She had taken a notebook and drawn diagrams and researched endlessly from her phone to annotate and invent, eager to impress her bosses. The bench time had been less of a break and more of a work excursion. These days, however, the time she spent at her bench had taken on a different strain. Aurelie allowed her body to melt into the framework and dreamt of a life outside of her lab. Of a working day that did not include adhering to non-disclosure contracts or working on international secrets, of finding love and having the time to cultivate it, of using her intelligence and skill for something more transparent and pure. Working for a global corporation had sounded like stepping onto a rocket ship bound for space when she had been young and naïve but now, as she approached her late thirties, the rocket had crash landed on a planet where she found she could not breathe the air and its inhabitants were draining her soul for their own gain.

Aurelie sighed and glanced at her watch. She had fifteen more minutes of fresh air before she had to walk back through the glass doors of RENCO and pass through the security checks to get back to her lab. Reaching for the satchel at her feet, she pulled out her packed lunch. A seeded multigrain roll containing ham, cheese and mustard. A silver reusable stainless-steel bottle filled with water. A severely bruised banana. She frowned accusingly at the culprit - her bottle – and tucked in, taking a long swig of water and then making her way through the sandwich and fruit, chewing thoughtfully as she imagined what it would be like to live with a girlfriend again. It had been almost a decade since she had last disappointed a partner to the point of them packing their bags and leaving, and at least two years since she had dated a woman long enough to consider them her girlfriend. Working at RENCO was not only all consuming for her day to day life, but it was also steeped in so much secrecy that she could not talk about her job for more than a few sentences without breaking numerous contractual obligations. This did not bode well for building trust in relationships, or explaining to a woman she loved at her wits end and in the process of handing back her house keys why she was barely ever around, or why her career was more important than their future as a couple. It might have been ten years ago, but it was not now. She longed for normalcy, for honesty, for openness.

The last of her lunch finished, Aurelie placed the bottle back in her satchel and stood up from the bench to begin her walk back to work. The squirrel she had seen earlier was still scurrying around in the leaves and debris behind her, and it stopped dead in its tracks at her sudden movement. She noticed how its nose twitched in her direction as it assessed the threat level, and how its small black eyes were subtly looking for an escape route.

“Me too, mate. Me too.”

Aurelie smiled at the creature sadly, and made her way onto the path. She took one last glance back at the squirrel, which had bolted for the nearest tree as soon as she had moved, and then continued on down the tarmac path towards the city.

Aged 6, parents lab scene

“Look daddy, I found a beetle on the porch!” Aurelie, with small hands clasped gently together to form a hollow ball ran headlong and beaming into the brightly lit, sterile room that her parents almost always inhabited. Its heavy and expensive equipment whirring and wheezing in a constant drone. Her mother had taught her all the names of the machines and what they did, and she could recite them on command, but out of earshot and in her imagination this room was a shuttle bound for space, and she was absolutely certain that if you pressed the right combination of buttons at the right time of day, an alien would appear. She had not found the right combination or time of day yet, and she had to be very careful and very sneaky when she attempted to summon extra-terrestrials after the incident, which led to an experiment her father had been working on being accidentally destroyed- along with her parents trust of her presence in their home laboratory.

Her father peered over his thick framed glasses and raised a bushy eyebrow as he looked across his workspace at his young daughter. “Aurelie, what have we told you about being in the lab?” His musically French-accented English belied the harsh tone of his words. Across the room, her mother continued to work without looking up from her microscope.

Aurelie stopped dead in her tracks a metre inside the door, enthusiasm draining rapidly from her rosy cheeked demeanour as she instinctively pulled her hands towards her body to protect her six-legged friend. She could feel it crawling around on her palms in its dark sphere, the feeling made her want to giggle and watch it move around, but her father’s eyes were boring into hers and the serious look on his face told her now was not the time to let an insect loose in his presence.

“I just wanted to show you this beetle I found-” He raised his hand to silence her.

“I’m terribly busy, darling. Take it back outside where it belongs.” He pushed his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose and cocked his head at his daughter as she fought to control her wobbling bottom lip. He sighed, and ran a hand through his short, greying hair.

“Come on then, two minutes. We will go outside and set it free and you can show me then.” He gestured towards the door as Aurelie’s watery hazel eyes lit up and she reanimated, turning quickly and excitedly toward and through the exit of the laboratory and allowing herself the giggle at the tickling she had been suppressing.

Aged 75, kitchen jam jar scene

"Steph!" A second pause, then "Stephanie!" Aurelie's croaky voice carried through the house from the kitchen where she stood, frustrated and with her patience thinning, to the porch on the front deck where her wife of twenty five years sat at their outdoor breakfast table sipping coffee in the early morning sun. She heard a chair creak loudly, and a faint scraping noise as it was pushed back in toward the table. Footsteps on the hallway floorboards signalled that Steph was approaching the kitchen, and a moment later she was joined at the island by her irritated looking wife. Aurelie knew what was coming and adopted an innocent look as she silently passed the jar she had been struggling to open to the other woman.

"What are you bloody playing at? You know you shouldn't be shouting that name for all the world to hear. I'll have to tell the neighbours you're getting Alzheimers, Aur." She held the temporarily forgotten jam jar in her left hand as she wagged her right index finger in Aurelie's direction, the wedding ring she polished religiously twinkling in the beams coming through the window as it sat pride of place a few fingers down. Aurelie rolled her eyes dramatically and poked her tongue out.

"Or you could tell them I've traded you in for a younger model." She ducked the half attempt at a swat that came her way and grinned mischievously, making her look years younger than she was.

Steph smiled at the joke, and her demeanour softened. She could never stay angry at Aurelie, especially as they aged and she became more audacious. It had been a revelation to watch the woman before her survive all that had happened at RENCO in that final year as a scientist for them, and then the years that followed as she adapted to her new identity. It had cost Steph literally everything to follow her then girlfriend into anonymity but it had been worth every sacrifice to ensure that her love got to have the freedom she had dreamed of, instead of having her life dashed away to cover up someone's secret. She dropped her authoritative hand to the red and white striped lid of the jar and twisted, her age weakened wrist straining slightly as she struggled. Aurelie huffed dramatically.

"Being old sucks. When did it take two of us to open a jar?"

"Ten years ago, my love. Seriously though, Aur, you can't be shouting out my real name for people to hear. We might be old and decrepit now but we are still in hiding." She squeezed her wife's bicep tenderly and then returned to twisting the jar, to no avail.

Aurelie huffed again. "I know, I'm sorry. Also, rude. I am not decrepit. I'll have to call George and get him to open that bloody jar. He's such a nice boy. Remember being that young? God, I wasted so much of my twenties..." She trailed off and moved toward where her phone lay, almost forgotten, on the kitchen bench. Checking to see if it still had any battery - she could not for the life of her remember the last time she had charged it - she scrolled through her contacts to find George, the young man who lived next door with his wife and baby daughter. She pressed dial, and waited for the tone.

Steph rolled her eyes and muttered something about just not having jam for breakfast instead of interrupting a neighbour as she placed the jar down on the island and made her way back out to the front deck to finish her coffee.

The phone rang a few times in Aurelie's ear and she took note that she might need to get her hearing checked as it was sounding a little faint, and then George's bright, cheery voice sounded through the speaker.

"Well hello there Kate, how are you this fine morning?"

Sorcha Dean

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