JUNE 2055

ELIOT

My car locates a parking spot and plugs itself in to recharge. Clutching a walking stick, I hurry through the crowded streets of a university town by the seaside. Rosemary is waiting for me on the promenade. We easily recognise each other from a distance. Both of us are tall and long-limbed, with cropped silver hair which was once long and blonde. Back in the day, we were often mistaken for siblings. She’s sitting in our favourite beach shelter. I’m touched that she remembers.

‘You haven’t changed,’ I tell her, after we’ve hugged carefully. ‘How’s the hip?’
‘The hip has good days and bad days,’ she says. ‘You look amazing!’
‘I have a gift for you, Rosie. Hope it helps.’

She walks a few steps to try out the walking stick I brought her. It’s a finely carved antique crafted from dark wood. The silver handle is in the form of a dragon's head. It’s been lying around my flat for so long I’ve forgotten where it came from.

Rosemary and I met during Freshers’ Week and immediately became best friends. In our third year we shared a first-floor front room in a Georgian terrace house overlooking the Prom. On stormy days we used to nestle together on the window seat and watch clouds rolling in over the sea. Our closeness had an underlying passion which we never acknowledged.

‘I hope I won’t need this stick for long. I’m saving up for a hip replacement. I wish they’d bring back the NHS.’

Financial independence has escaped Rosemary. After graduation she took a job as a lab technician, married her former tutor and bore four children in quick succession. Her husband Byron, on the other hand, has had a stellar career and is now an internationally renowned Professor of Cryogenics.

‘We’re growing old, Rosie,’ I sigh.
‘You’re not old! You’re starting a whole new life. Tell me, what’s your real name? I know it’s wrong of me to go on calling you Elizabeth.'
‘I’ve taken Eliot’s name. I want to keep his memory alive.’

My brother died on a space mining expedition, from radiation poisoning. I’m not looking forward to telling Leo his brother-in-law is dead. They were very close. When tears fill my eyes, Rosemary takes my hands in hers.

‘How’s your Mum?' she asks gently.
‘I had to put her in a care home. She doesn’t know me any more, but she often talks about Eliot. She thinks he’s still on the Moon, digging up rare minerals.’

‘Let’s sit here and enjoy the sea air for a while,’ says Rosemary. ‘Don’t worry, we won’t be late for Leo’s resuscitation. It’s a short drive to Byron’s state-of-the-art cryogenic storage facility. You’ll be impressed. The technology is mind-blowing.’
For a while we listen in silence to the riff of waves on a pebbly beach.

‘Eliot, I want to talk to you about a sensitive matter.’

Is she finally ready to discuss the true nature of our relationship, I wonder? My heart leaps, but I’m going to be disappointed.

‘Leo was forty-two when Byron froze him, twenty years ago. When he’s resuscitated, he'll still be forty-two. Leo will remember you as his wife, Elizabeth, but you are now a sixty-year-old man called Eliot. How do you think he’ll react?’

‘With any luck, he’ll be so happy to be alive again that he won’t care.’
‘You should have attended the mentoring sessions,’ Rosemary says regretfully. ‘I’m afraid Leo will find the situation confusing. Also, good care homes are expensive, and you must have spent a fortune on surgery. He's bound to notice that you’ve been dipping into his investments.’
‘He couldn’t take it with him, Rosie. And to be honest, I didn’t think he’d be back. I’m hoping he’ll be cool about it.’
Rosemary stands up, leaning heavily on the dragon cane, and summons a driverless car. It’s time to watch her husband bring my husband back to life.

LEO

Light pierces my eyeballs. Needles impale my flesh. Fingers invade my orifices.

A bald, wrinkled stranger bends over me.

'Hi Leo,' he says. 'Welcome back. I'm Professor Byron Jones. Remember me? I married Elizabeth’s university room-mate. I froze you twenty years ago, in the hope that one day a cure for your illness would be found. That day has finally come.’
Did he say twenty years? In the dim light my eyes waver in and out of focus. Formless shapes in white coats gradually acquire eyes and mouths. One of them is Elizabeth's brother Eliot. He's aged better than Byron.

When I try to speak a hiss of foul air leaves my lips. A silver-haired woman sprays soothing liquid into my mouth. I reach for her hand, and my grasping fingers close on the dragon head of my grandfather's walking stick.  

‘Elizabeth!’ I croak. ‘My darling!’

ELIOT

I’ve always been lucky, but this is off the scale. I haven’t had to tell Leo, my recently revived husband, that I raided his investments to transition to my true gender and pay for my mother’s care. After two decades of being cryogenically frozen, he thinks I’m my late brother. As a bonus, he believes my dearest friend Rosemary is me. I’m off the hook, but I’ll stay around until he’s finished his medication and has fully recovered. It's the least I can do.

Every morning a nurse wheels Leo along the promenade. For hours Rosemary sits next to him in our favourite beach shelter, while he bombards her with memories she doesn’t share. She copes by gazing out to sea while agreeing with everything Leo says. I’m not sure how long she can keep up this pretence.

LEO

Poor Elizabeth is away with the fairies. She doesn’t remember the make of our first car, my mother’s three-legged dog or our disastrous weekend in Morecambe. Yesterday I had to remind her, seconds before she swallowed an oyster, that she’s allergic to them. In contrast, Eliot's mind is razor sharp. He remembers more about the life his sister and I led than I do. I’d rather talk to Eliot than Elizabeth.

ELIOT

‘You can't go on pretending to be Leo’s wife for the rest of your life, Rosemary.’

‘Why not, Byron? You’ve been pretending to be a husband for years.’

Professor and Mrs Jones have their ups and downs. Right now they’re on a down. Feeling guilty for deceiving Leo, I decide to come clean.

‘I agree with Byron. I think we should tell Leo that Elizabeth is dead and he’s now married to Eliot.’

Byron does not like my idea. ‘Elizabeth, I mean Eliot, I appreciate your honesty. However, we can’t tell your husband the truth about your identity while his immune system is weak. The shock might kill him. Let’s discuss this matter again tomorrow. I have another meeting in ten minutes.'

‘If, as I suspect, that meeting is your regular lunchtime encounter with Blodwyn in the hazard room, she can wait,’ says Rosemary.

As if on cue Blodwyn, Byron’s secretary, appears on the wall screen.  ‘Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but it’s urgent. The client is attempting to join your meeting.’

‘Don’t let him in!’ I cry.

It’s too late. Leo is already manipulating his wheelchair into the room.

'Byron, Eliot, darling Elizabeth,' he begins, 'I want to thank all of you for giving me a second chance at life.’

Byron’s smile glows with false modesty. ‘It’s what I do, Leo.’

‘No bother, mate,’ I say, in an effort to sound like my brother.

Leo ignores us men. His eyes are on Rosemary, who is looking hunted.

‘Elizabeth, I’ve been trying to help you to revisit our former life, but your memory is no longer what it was. Sadly, our twenty year age difference makes a difference.’

‘None of us is getting any younger,’ Rosemary says huffily.

‘Your declining mental capacity makes no difference to the way I feel about you,' says Leo. 'You're my wife. You cared for me in my illness, waited for me while my body was frozen and helped me to recover when I was resuscitated. I’ll always be there for you.’

I flinch when my husband turns to me.

‘Eliot, your memory is sharp as a knife. I’m proud to have you as a brother-in-law. What are your plans? When are you due back on the moon?’

Again, I’m off the hook. Leo has completely accepted me as Eliot. As for my employment prospects, I’m due to take up a post which will keep me out of his way for a very long time.

‘I’ve had enough of mining, Leo. I’m going to be an escort on a cruise ship. Most of the passengers are elderly single women. I'll be expected to chat to them at cocktail hour, partner them at dances and so on.'

Leo grins from ear to ear. ‘Excellent! Reserve cabins for Elizabeth and me. My health insurance will cover her hip replacement operation, and a cruise will be the perfect way for her to recuperate. What do you think, darling?’

Rosemary claps her hands. ‘It’s a dream come true, Leo!’

‘Hang on a minute,’ I splutter.

Fortunately, Byron steps in before I give the game away.

‘Leo, I’ll help you back to your room. We can rely on Rosemary - I mean, Elizabeth - and Eliot to sort out the details of the trip.'

Left alone, Rosemary and I hug. We’ve been hugging a lot lately, even when there’s nothing in particular to hug about.

‘I should tell Leo the truth,’ I say.

‘It would be the right thing to do,’ she says. ‘But wouldn’t you rather let Leo pay for my hip replacement and take us on a luxury cruise? Don’ you want to dance with me on deck in the light of a thousand stars?’

I pretend to think about it. ‘Sounds like a plan. Will Byron be all right?’

‘That’s Blodwyn’s problem,’ says Rosemary.

LEO

Eliot is loving his new job, and Elizabeth and I are glad we came with him for the ride. I’ve done the math, and living on a cruise ship is more economical than it sounds. We’re going to be repeat clients.

My investments haven’t performed as well as I hoped they would. At some point Elizabeth had to pay for major surgery, but she can’t remember why. And we’re paying for my mother-in-law’s care, which I suppose is fair enough. Elizabeth has no plans to visit her old Mum, but Eliot will pop in next time we’re in the area.

Travelling with Elizabeth and Eliot is tremendous fun. Right now we’re chugging across the Mediterranean towards Greece. When this trip ends, Eliot will transfer to another ship in the fleet. In time we hope to visit all of Byron and Rosemary’s four adult children, who have scattered to the four corners of the globe. Elizabeth says Rosemary stays with each of them in turn. That’s why I haven’t seen her since I came back to life.

The only downside is that Elizabeth and I have failed to revive the intimate side of our marriage. Twenty years on ice has totally destroyed my mojo. Fortunately, Elizabeth doesn’t seem to mind. I can’t dance either – my balance is shot to pieces -but I’m a very happy wallflower. Many of the wealthy old ladies Eliot escorts have daughters in their forties. Attractive divorcées from Tokyo or Michigan, bored with keeping their old Mum company on holiday, keep their flirting skills up to date by practising on me.

When I first knew Elizabeth she had two left feet, but since she got her new hip she’s become a sexy mover. It’s fascinating to watch her and Eliot gyrate on the dance floor. Not many brothers and sisters are as affectionate and tactile with each other as those two. Whatever floats your boat, as they say.

I wave Grandad’s dragon head cane at Elizabeth and Eliot, who are living their best life under the stars, and they wave back.