Page 57 of The Life Experiment

‘I’m home,’ Saira called out as she entered the house.

When no response came, she slipped off her shoes and padded in stockinged feet through to the kitchen.

There, she plucked a half-full bottle of wine from the fridge and poured herself a glass, because why not?

Today was a day of celebration, after all.

The Life Experiment had officially come to an end.

All that remained was for Saira and her team to disclose the true aim of the experiment, then for all involved to take the lessons they had learned and implement them. Saira included.

‘This is the defining work of your career,’ one of her senior researchers said.

He was right. The experiment had been everything Saira hoped it would be when she had the idea three years ago.

Maybe even more. The growth shown by participants was phenomenal.

Lives had changed for the better. Everything Saira had wanted to achieve was complete.

So why did she not feel complete herself?

The first sip of wine slid smoothly down her throat as she ventured back through the house.

At the door to the living room, she paused.

Inside, Saira knew her sofa was waiting, as was the latest BBC police procedural she was invested in.

Her shoulders relaxed at the idea of bingeing the rest of it, but Saira found herself heading upstairs instead.

Outside the third door on the landing, she stopped. Habit almost made Saira knock, but at the last minute, she stopped herself. There was no point. Saira knew she wouldn’t get a response.

Saira entered the room anyway. It smelled faintly of the polish she used once a week to keep the space clean and tidy.

Well, tidy enough, if you ignored the school blazer lying rumpled on the floor.

It was meant to be hung over the back of the desk chair, or preferably in the wardrobe, but the floor was usually where it ended up.

Dodging the discarded blazer, Saria made her way to the bed. Purple bedding, beautifully patterned. Grown-up , she thought, the words puncturing her lungs.

Tentatively, Saira sat, careful not to spill her wine. ‘The experiment finished today, can you believe it? The end came too quickly, if you ask me. What am I going to do with my day now? Other than annoy you, of course.’

The silence was deafening. Saira’s shoulders slumped, but she continued.

‘I saw Layla and Angus earlier. Remember them? Throughout the experiment, they were smitten and… actually, I should stop spilling their secrets. Confidentiality and all.’ Saira laughed before inching further up the bed.

‘They were shocked and angry at what I’d done, but that soon faded.

After going through something like this, you can’t cling to the bad, can you?

That’s the point of the experiment, to make people stop being ruled by nerves and insecurities and doubts.

And, most importantly, to make them see their worth.

Seeing that is one of the hardest things, isn’t it? We both know that.’

Saira closed her eyes as the words she wanted to say caught in the back of her throat.

‘If only I’d helped you see yours,’ she whispered. ‘If only I’d helped you first.’

As Saira touched the empty pillow before her, she closed her eyes and imagined Harpreet’s face.

The long, thin nose, a mirror image of Saira’s.

Fierce brows that furrowed when she studied.

The smattering of acne scars on her left cheek.

Harpreet was so insecure about them. Saira told her they were her skin telling the story of her life.

Maybe she should have told her that more.

Made Harpreet see her beauty. Taken her bitter comments about her body more seriously.

But Saira hadn’t listened enough, hadn’t done enough, hadn’t been enough to save her little girl.

Now the tears had started, they wouldn’t stop.

They ran down Saira’s cheeks, a waterfall of grief so crushing her lungs lost the ability to breathe.

‘If only I could have shown you how much joy you brought to the world. If only I could have made you see,’ she sobbed.

‘I’d give anything for a chance to fix things. You know that, don’t you?’

Saira’s hand curled into the pillow, the knot of pain burning too bright in her chest. Seven years later, her grief still felt so fresh.

It was the cruellest of tricks, how someone could be made to think that ending their life was the answer to their pain. The people left behind were cursed to spend their lives wondering how it happened. What they could have done to stop it.

People said Saira couldn’t have known, that Harpreet hid her pain well, but Saira hated their platitudes.

She was Harpreet’s mother. She was a psychologist, for goodness sake.

Every time Harpreet bought a new outfit to try and fit in, every time she added another layer of makeup, every time she skipped a meal… She should have known.

She should have known .

Sniffing back her emotions before they consumed her completely, Saira sat tall.

‘Enough of that, eh? The important thing is that the participants know their worth now. Those mothers and fathers, those daughters and sons, those friends and colleagues, they know how much the world needs them. They know how much life they have left to live.’

On the pillow, Saira’s hand unfurled. For a moment, she debated stroking the air as if it were Harpreet’s cheek, but she stopped herself.

‘We’re doing amazing work together, you and I,’ Saira said softly into the silence.

Lingering a moment, Saira smoothed her daughter’s pillow. Then she rose to her feet and drew a line under her sadness. For tonight, at least.

Before she left Harpreet’s room, Saira took one last look at the empty bed.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart,’ she whispered. Closing the door behind her, Saira walked away, safe in the knowledge that she had tried.

And for the rest of her life, she would continue to try to show people that they had value.

That they were loved. That here on earth, alive and kicking, was exactly where they belonged.