I’m intrigued and wonder what’s caused the turnaround in her behaviour. Surely she must have some good news.
‘I’m going to stay with Grandma and Grandpa for a while.’ She stares at me, waiting for my reaction.
My first thought is, I can’t go. I can’t leave Luc. We’ve got important plans. My second thought is, she used the word 'I' and not 'we'.
‘What? You’re going by yourself?’ I ask.
During the last month, I would have absolutely preferred it if she had been at my Grandparents’ place. I hated to see her in such a bad way and would rather she be grief-stricken anywhere else but here. But now, seeing her restored to her old self, I don’t want her to go. I want her to take care of me. To stay. I want us to try to heal ourselves together.
I hadn't realised how much I’ve been missing the company of my mother. I haven’t just been grieving for Skye, I’ve been adrift without the reliable everyday closeness of Ma. At this moment I almost want to forget my mission with Luc and try to get back to being a family of sorts.
‘Just for a bit, sweetheart. The helicopter’s picking me up this afternoon. Pa has arranged it all.’
‘This afternoon? But how long will you be away for?’ Hurt pricks at me and the word ‘abandoned’ pops into my head. I feel sick. Although she’s been as good as useless to me over the past few weeks, I don’t want her to go. The thought terrifies me. I feel like a little child, out of my depth and overwhelmed. I feel hot tears welling behind my eyes, but I also feel a creeping, burning anger that mothers aren’t supposed to behave like this. She should be here for me. I need her. But I’m not going to beg.
I breathe back the tears before they can fall, and I set my mouth into a hard line. The anger lodges like a piece of stale bread in my throat. She speaks again.
‘Riley, darling, we’ve all had an unbelievably dreadful time of it. I’ve been ill and I know I neglected you when you needed me. I’m still not quite right yet so Grandma and Grandpa are going to help me get better and then I can come home and we can start trying to get back to normal again. It won’t be for long. Please, my darling, please be strong for a little while longer.’
She sounds like her old self but I can see in her face that these words are costing a lot of effort. She looks tired and old. Her make-up doesn’t enhance her features, it just sort of sits on top of them like a mask. The panic and anger leaves my body and I suddenly feel so tired I want to curl up into a ball and sleep for a year.
‘Okay.’ I don’t look at her when I say it.
‘You’re such a good girl. I’ll be back soon, I promise. Now come and give me another hug.’
That afternoon, Pa comes out into the garden and tries to be happy for my benefit but I can tell he’s upset by the way he keeps clenching and unclenching his fists and sticking his chin out in an almost defiant way, like a little boy.
It’s a stiflingly warm day and the wind from the copter blades does nothing to relieve my hot exhaustion. It whips my sleek, newly straightened hair all around my face and the noise irritates me. Pa speaks and I only catch a few words above the noise.
‘Stupid idiots. They put it down too near the roses. They’ll be blown to bits.’ But whereas a couple of months ago he would have been purple with rage. Today he just murmurs sadly. The fight seems to have escaped from Pa like air from a shrinking balloon. Before all this, I would have laid bets on him roaring and threatening throughout the Perimeter to get Skye’s killer recaptured, calling in favours, leaving no stone unturned. But Pa’s a broken man.
He carries Ma’s cases across the lawn and helps her up into the plush cabin where two guards are already seated. She blows us kisses through her tears and then, just like that, she is gone.
Pa and I watch the copter lift off into the air and bank north westwards. I want to go back into the house. I don’t want to watch it disappear into the empty blue sky. But Pa takes my hand and holds it tight. Makes me stay.
‘Just you and me now, Riley,’ he says, contemplating the silent garden.
*
In the months after the terror attacks, there were looters on every corner. Violent gun battles were an everyday occurrence between the police and the criminals who were previously denied the opportunity to be this bad.
Those members of the police force who survived the horror realised they were fighting a losing battle, so they threw away their badges, kept their guns and joined the remaining civilians trying to make a new life for themselves.
Vicious gangs patrolled the streets recruiting new members by force, and prostitution rings sprang up everywhere. Nobody was safe unless in the company of armed guards or privateers. The army was a presence but there weren’t enough troops to keep order everywhere.
Luc’s and my own parents set up our own Perimeter quickly and efficiently, guessing that things had gone too far for them to recover any time soon. They went from door to door in our neighbourhood, explaining what they planned to do, giving each householder a chance to contribute or move out. Not a particularly friendly approach but, as Pa said, there was no time for niceties. Only a few people left the area. Most stayed and are now indebted to Pa and Eddie Donovan.
So everyone has had to adapt to this new, harsher life. We barricade ourselves away with other decent people and those who can afford it hire professionals to protect them. The roads are rarely used anymore, but they still carry dangers from raiders, hijackers and other equally unpleasant characters. The army patrols half-heartedly, but its number has dropped as army conditions worsen and the lure of guards’ pay becomes more enticing.
Now England is among the most shut-off countries in the world. Closed borders, no transportation - only a select few own motor vehicles, as most people can’t get hold of enough fuel to run them.
The military spasmodically maintain one main road between each major settlement but most of the old roads are overgrown and crumbling, so you need some serious transportation. Tanks are best, though any AV will usually be up to the job. People reluctantly walk or, if they’re lucky, ride a mountain bike or a horse. Most people stay home though, as you risk your life when you venture into public areas.
There are always food shortages and a non-existent health service. We’re so far gone we couldn’t get back if we tried. Our taken-for-granted civilisation, hard-won over hundreds of years, has crumbled back into dark-age chaos. Sixteen years is a long time; the difference between one life and another.
And it’s onto these roads we are soon to go. We need to be fully prepared for anything we might encounter. Weapons are a top priority. We’ve managed to get hold of three machine guns, a couple of revolvers, ammunition and two serious-looking hunting knives. The rest of our packing list looks like this:
4 lighters
2 large boxes of matches
2 torches
6 candles
4 blankets
A length of rope
A ball of twine
Spare clothing
Water purifying tablets
Basic medical supply kit
48 litres drinking water
Food
100 gold coins
350 silver bits
2000 cigarettes to trade
1 crate whisky to trade
30 bars Swiss chocolate (way past its sell-by-date) to trade and to eat
~
It’s been surprisingly easy to plan our journey and hide the supplies. I’m ashamed to say I stole most of it from Pa’s underground stores. But I’ve told him what I did in my note, so none of his workers will get into trouble for the theft.
It’s our good fortune and Pa’s shady activities that’s given us such easy access to supplies. We’re definitely among the luckiest in the world when it comes to standards of living and we’ve got some pretty strong currency in the form of Pa’s illicit goods.
We plan to borrow Luc’s mother’s all-terrain AV which is state-of-the-art and custom-built for maximum comfort and security. It’s fitted with
full-coverage exterior shock-plates, transparent armour multi-layered glass with blackout mode and run-on-flat tyres. It’s also got a hidden compartment beneath the passenger-side footwell, large enough to take a gun and some emergency provisions.
Three days to go and the tension is unbearable.
Chapter Eight
Riley
*
The AV’s engine is obscenely loud in the quiet of the morning. I’m sure any minute now we’ll hear raised voices and see Pa running up the Donovans’ driveway in confusion and rage. But apart from the engine noise, I hear nothing.
Chilly and damp, I’ve got that half-asleep, grubby, early morning feeling. My eyes itch and the skin on my face feels raw and prickly. I wish the heater would hurry up and kick in. I forced myself to eat some breakfast before leaving the house and I can feel it now, sitting in my throat and chest – hard, undigested lumps of cereal.
But we’re finally doing this and despite my nerves I’m excited that today has finally arrived.
Luc crunches the gears and the AV glides down the driveway and out onto the tarmac road. There isn’t a soul around. A skinny brown fox trots along the pavement and makes a left into Mrs Hannigan’s garden. A faint light glows on the blue black horizon behind the avenue of trees but the stars are still glimmering, bright and winking in the not-quite-morning sky. Dawn has all but broken and the translucent moon is fading.
We turn off our familiar road and onto Elgin Avenue. Luc turns to me and grins his cheeky grin.
‘Okay, Riley, time to duck down.’
I crouch on the floor in front of my recently vacated passenger seat and pull a blanket over my head. It’s very spacious really, not like a regular car. Luc grabs the holdall from the back and places it on the passenger seat, so it part rests on top of my crouched body. This way, no one will be able to see me if they peer into the vehicle.
‘You okay?’ he asks with a smile in his voice.
‘Mmm hm.’ I feel the AV turn and guess we must now be on Glenferness and heading for the gates. I feel us go slowly over the bridge.
‘You sure you’re alright?’ he asks again.
‘Yep, I’m fine. Good luck.’
‘Thanks,’ he replies. ‘You’d better not speak anymore until we’re clear of the gates.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay,’ he repeats quietly.
The vehicle slows and I guess we’ve reached the Perimeter gates. We come to a steady stop and I hear the electric window go down and the engine switch off. The birds are making an almighty racket. Not being a very morning person, I’m never awake to hear the dawn chorus, but they’re giving us a rousing send-off today.
‘Morning.’ Luc greets one of the guards.
‘Alright, mate.’ I recognise Liam’s voice. ‘I’m on with Duke this morning. He’s just brewing up.’ Then he lowers his voice. ‘You sure about this?’
‘Yeah, we’re all set.’
We let Liam in on our plan a couple of days ago. We needed him to pretend to receive a message from Luc’s parents, asking for their son to join them in Southampton. We also thought he should know what we’re really doing and where we’re headed, just in case we meet trouble along the way.
We plan to head for the Century Barracks in Warminster, where Chambers was sighted. Once we get there, we’ll gather as much information as we can and try to track him across to the West Country. My grandparents live over in those parts, so we’ll end our journey there rather than turning back to Bournemouth.
Ma’s at my grandparents’ house and I had the realisation I’d rather face her tears than Pa’s anger when we finally end our journey. I’ve never been there before but Luc’s done a lot of travelling with his parents and knows the way. So our plan is to end up at their place once we find Ron Chambers.
We know anything could change once we get moving. New information could come to light at any time or we could run into any amount of unforeseen danger. So Liam has agreed to alert our parents and the guards to our plan if we don’t reach my grandparents’ house by the end of the month.
He was against the idea at first, fearing for our safety and for his position. But Luc swore to guarantee his job. I also think he feels guilty that he was one of the guards on duty at the time of Chambers’ escape, and so he’s agreed to keep our secret.
‘Okay, I’ll get the gates,’ Liam says. ‘Good luck.’ Then he shouts, ‘Mr Duke! It’s Luc. He’s a bit earlier than scheduled. Shall I open the gates?’
‘Hold on!’ Something clatters loudly to the floor and I hear the out-of-breath guard come marching out. ‘Morning, Lucas, you’re up nice and early.’ Charlie Duke’s rich Dorset accent fills the morning air and I picture his ruddy face.
He’s never ever said more than two words at a time to me, (I think all the guards are too wary of Pa to speak to us) although he always seems cheerful, with blue eyes that disappear into his face when he smiles. He looks how I would imagine a farmer to be - thickset with apple red cheeks and huge square hands.
‘Hi, Mr Duke,’ replies Luc. ‘I want to try to reach Southampton before nightfall, so I’m leaving earlier than scheduled.’
‘No problem. I just wanted to warn you there was a bit of rioting outside Ringwood last night. Maybe you should postpone your trip for a couple of days till it blows over. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with you travelling into that sort of hazard. I’m surprised they haven’t assigned a guard to go with you anyway. No offence, I know you’re quite capable, but it’s always better to travel outside with at least two people in case ...’
Luc interrupts, ‘I’ll be fine. I’ll stay clear of Ringwood.’ He clears his throat. ‘I’ll be safe in the AV and I‘m armed. They wouldn’t have let me do the journey if they were worried.’
‘Right you are, Lucas. Well, safe trip now. Send my best to your parents. I’ll get the gates.’
‘Thanks, Mr Duke. See you, Liam.’
The engine starts and the window whirrs up. After some creaking which lasts about twenty seconds, followed by a loud thunk, we start moving and I feel the transition from smooth road surface to rough, uneven ground. The AV’s got good suspension, but crouched down here on the floor I wonder how we’ll be able to stand it – our bones being jolted and our teeth rattling in our heads. Hopefully it’ll be less bumpy once I can sit down properly. Luc said we’d only have to cross rough terrain until we reach the main road. I shift my position.
‘Just stay hidden for a bit longer,’ says Luc. ‘I can still see them in my rear view and I don’t want to switch to blackout in case Duke gets suspicious.’
‘It’s okay, I wasn’t coming out yet,’ I mumble. ‘Just trying to get comfy. It’s bumpy.’
‘I know. I’ll slow down a bit.’
‘No, it’s okay. I’m alright. Maybe just move the bag off my head.’
‘Are you sure? I thought a bag-on-the-head was quite a good look for you.’
‘Ha ha.’ I feel its weight disappear. ‘Ah, that’s better.’ He whips the blanket off next.
‘You don’t need that now either.’ He smiles down at me.
My face must be bright red, my hair plastered all round it in unattractive clumps. My knees are clicking and my left foot’s got cramp. God, only several minutes into our journey and I’m already completely inadequate. I’ve got major butterflies but despite that, our adventure still seems quite abstract and distant. Not enough to make me feel fully afraid yet. I hope it’ll stay that way and I’ll face whatever’s out here with calm dignity and poise and not panic like an idiot.
I peer up at Luc while he concentrates on driving. He seems calm and unfazed. No way on earth could I have done this without him; I don’t have the balls or the connections. I may have come up with the idea, but Luc’s making it happen.
Thinking of Skye gives me a shot of courage. No matter how scared I feel about everything, I know I have to do this for her. She was my little sister and she deserves justice.
Chapter
Nine
Eleanor
*
I met Connor through my brother Tom, a bit of a peace-and-lentils hippy. Always on a march or a sit-in, Tom was the youngest of my three elder brothers and we were really close. He was a long-haired, unshaven darling and I loved him to bits. He always brought waifs and strays home, to the secret delight of Mum, who loved having a houseful of interesting people and the annoyance of Dad, who preferred the quiet life.
But even Dad liked Connor, who was unobtrusive, polite and infinitely helpful. Mum always joked she’d like to trade one of her lazy sons for hard-working Connor.
I’d been seeing Johnny for about a month, when Tom brought Connor home to stay for a few weeks and it was love at first sight. I got crazy butterflies every time he came near. His lazy gentle voice with its soft northern inflection made me swoon and he smelt like heaven.
‘You know you’re always welcome to our guest bedroom, Connor,’ Mum said.
‘Thanks, Mrs Russell. But I’m really happy sleeping in my bus. I guess it’s like my home. If I could park up on your driveway though?’
‘Of course you can. That’s no trouble.’
He’d restored the two-tone red and cream VW camper van himself, and Dad thought it was a marvel. He kept hinting to Mum that he’d like to do a restoration job on a vintage car, but mum wasn’t having any of it.
‘I don’t think so.’ She spread out her hands in mock-horror. ‘We’ve got enough restoration jobs to do on this vintage house, before we progress on to cars.’
Dad reluctantly agreed, but could often be found outside in the driveway, mooning after the beautifully restored camper van.
It was a semi-warm late July Sunday afternoon. One of those days where it’s scorching hot until the sun goes behind a cloud and then you feel like you need your thermal underwear. Connor had been with us for a week now, and we’d just demolished one of Mum’s huge roast dinners. It was a rare occasion where we all happened to be home at the same time - Mum, Dad, Oliver, David, Tom and me - a big family affair with Connor as the guest of honour.
Tom was a strict vegetarian, but Connor had no problem helping us to devour the two huge roast chickens. I regretted the second helping of apple pie and custard I’d thought was such a good idea at the time and decided to get some air in the garden while everyone else watched boring Sunday afternoon sports on TV. I walked around for a bit and then flopped on the rug with my book. Moments later, Connor appeared and lay down beside me. My heart rate doubled at his close proximity.