‘I’m going next door this evening,’ I said. ‘If Rita’s there, I’ll ask her about some flour for you.’
‘Thanks, darling. That would be great. I borrowed three eggs from Ellen’s mum and if I get the flour from Rita, I should have everything I need. Tell Rita, I’ll bring her over a few slices once it’s baked.’
‘See you girls later,’ Pa said, picking up some paperwork from the hall table. ‘I need to call a meeting.’
‘Okay, darling,’ Ma said. ‘Have fun.’
I shook my head. Ma just didn’t get it. She didn’t seem aware of the dangers or the precariousness of our life. She treated everything like a game and viewed Pa’s business like some kind of hobby he indulged in. But deep down I knew it was her way of coping with stuff. She hadn’t been the same since Skye died. She’d withdrawn into herself and didn’t seem to want to know about the reality of things. Pa humoured her and I tried to do the same, even though her attitude irked me.
The front door slammed behind my father and Ma gave a dramatic sigh. ‘He’s always so busy. We never have time to do anything interesting anymore.’
‘I know, Ma. There’s just a lot going on at the moment. But anyway, I met someone really nice today at the compound.’
‘Oh, yes? Tell me about it.’ She took my arm and steered me into the sitting room. ‘I think we should sit in here like civilised people and light a proper fire,’ she said. ‘What do you think? It’s like the artic in here.’
‘Ooh, a fire sounds nice,’ I said. ‘But we shouldn’t really.’
The hearth was already laid with kindling. A big stack of split logs by the side. We weren’t supposed to light it ever. It was strictly for emergencies only. We used the gennies for light and power, but our main source of heat was from the massive range in the kitchen which was hooked up to radiators throughout the house. However, our place was so huge, that even with the range going, the rooms felt cold. An open fire sounded like heaven.
‘No,’ I said, not giving in to temptation. ‘Let’s sit in the kitchen. It’s warm enough by the range.’
‘You’re right, I know,’ she replied. ‘I just fancied a change from sitting in the kitchen. It gets a bit dull after a while.’
‘I’ll tell you about my new friend,’ I said. ‘That’ll cheer you up.’
She smiled and we left the chilly sitting room for the warmth of the kitchen. Cradling cups of apple tea, we chatted until the light faded. I told her about the girl outside the compound and how she had helped me. I played down the violence though; Ma didn’t need to hear about that. Then I realised it was nearly time to go next door to Luc’s. I stood up and yawned, stretching my arms above my head. I wanted to shower and change before I left.
‘Riley,’ Ma said as I stood up to go. ‘What is going on with you and that boy?’
Her question took me aback. She’d never openly asked me about Luc before. The subject had kind of become taboo. I thought she still blamed Luc somehow for Skye’s death. It was a question I wished I was able to answer better because, truthfully, I had no clue what was going on with Luc and me. We’d had something and then it had vanished.
‘Nothing’s going on,’ I said, walking to the door.
‘That’s a shame,’ she said.
‘You think so?’ I turned.
‘Of course. It’s obvious the boy worships the ground you walk on.’
‘Not anymore,’ I replied.
‘Don’t waste time over-thinking things. I’ve made so many mistakes, Riley. If Luc’s the one for you, then don’t worry about making a fool of yourself. It’s worth the risk. If you let him go, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’
I left the room and tramped up the stairs. Ma’s advice was easier said than done. Me and Luc and our non-relationship was a mess. He’d wanted us to be together, but I’d felt guilty because he’d been Skye’s crush and then we did get it together, but that had ended as soon as it had begun. Right now I had no idea where we stood, except I was pretty sure he was sick of the whole ‘us’ scenario and just wanted to be friends.
Ma was right – I didn’t want to talk about things with him because I knew I’d end up making a complete idiot of myself. But I also didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But . . . but . . . Ugh! What I needed was to put Luc Donovan right out of my head.
Maybe cancelling dinner would’ve been the best option. The truth was, I wanted to see him. In fact, the thought of spending a whole evening with him was enough to make me almost dizzy with anticipation. I was disgusted with myself for being such a slave to my emotions. Despite all that, I needed to talk with him about helping Lou and her family. That girl had done me a serious favour and I needed to repay her kindness. Plus, I liked her and I was sure Luc would too.
But I could sort all that out later, because right now I had the more important and impossible task of trying to decide what I was going to wear tonight.
Chapter Six
Jamie
The Boscombe guards opened the heavy iron gates, nodding respectfully to Mr Carter as he drove in. He wound down the window and slipped something into one of the guard’s hands.
It had been years since Jamie had last been here. It had always been a bit rougher than the Charminster 'pound. A place you really had to watch your back. Last time he’d visited, it had ended disastrously. He’d been seeing this girl, but her old man had caught them and gone ballistic. Apparently Jamie wasn’t good enough for his little girl. He was some kind of big shot around here and he’d had Jamie thrown out of the 'pound, threatening to shoot him if he ever returned.
It was a shame, because the girl was fit and had a swanky little apartment right above a bar. They’d had a good thing going until they’d been caught. Later, Jamie came to the reluctant conclusion that the girl probably hadn’t even liked him. She was just a spoilt brat who’d shacked up with him purely to annoy her old man. Well, her plan had worked. That was about five years ago, so he wasn’t too worried that the father would remember him. Anyway, by now the girl was probably married to someone suitably boring and respectable with half-a-dozen sprogs.
Jamie sighed. These sorts of things seemed to happen to him wherever he went. But not anymore. No. He was going to be a lot more careful and a lot more . . . thoughtful about things. Maybe he should go against his natural urges for a change. Maybe he should forget about the cute girl who had told him to meet her here. Instead, he should see if this Carter bloke was legit. Maybe the man could set Jamie up with a proper place to live. A job even. Somewhere safe to lay his head at night. Pity; the girl he’d arranged to meet was prettier than a nugget of silver and Jamie was sure they would have enjoyed each other’s company; for a while at least.
Mr Carter parked the vehicle in the vast parking lot. Jamie eased himself out of his seat and gingerly tested his bad leg, putting weight on it. Yeah – still hurt really bad. Man that sun was hot already, its rays glinting off hundreds of abandoned car roofs. Jamie scratched at his beard for the umpteenth time. He was pretty certain he had lice again.
‘I have a good friend who lives here,’ Mr Carter said, getting out of the vehicle. ‘I’m sure she would very much like to see you. Would you like to meet her, Jamie?’
Jamie stared at the man. What was he talking about – a friend? How should he know if he’d like to meet her? He didn’t even know who she was or what she did.
‘Um.’ Jamie stared blankly at Mr Carter. Then he remembered his new resolution to take a chance on the man. ‘Er, yeah, okay.’
‘Splendid.’
Maybe this friend was another member of Mr Carter’s God squad. She was probably going to try and brainwash him or something. Well, bring it on. He could do with a bit of brainwashing. God knows there wasn’t much inside his head worth hanging onto.
They walked through the car park and up to the inner doors, which opened automatically before they even reached them. Carter had influence here; that much was obvious.
Jamie struggled to keep pace with the sh
orter man. His leg had almost seized up now and he could no longer bend it at the knee. He felt a wave of dizziness and nausea sweep over him, but gritted his teeth and kept going. He wasn’t sure enough of Mr Carter’s motives and he worried that if he saw how weak Jamie was, he wouldn’t bother with him anymore. The last thing Jamie wanted was to pass out on the 'pound floor and be left for dead. He’d be picked clean in seconds, and the guards would sling him outside without any thought for his well-being.
Houses, people and various livestock flashed past Jamie’s field of vision, but he couldn’t focus properly. He could hardly see where he was going. The sun beat down on his damp forehead and beads of sweat slipped into his eyes. Mr Carter’s back had become a hazy shape ahead of him, but Jamie was determined to hold onto the image. To not let it fade to black. The 'pound noises were nothing but a dull roar in his ears. A merging of voices, barking, the clatter of hooves and the banging and crashing of manual labour. Distant echoes.
‘Here we are,’ Mr Carter said, his voice clear and close, grounding Jamie, giving him something to anchor himself to.
‘Where’s here?’ Jamie croaked.
‘A place for you to rest while I go about my business.’
Sounded good. Jamie leant against the brick wall of the house he found himself in front of. He forced his eyes to focus on his surroundings. They were in an empty side street, the usual garbage smell hung in the air made worse by the heat. The buildings were run-down, crumbling and black with grime. Dark, dirty windows stared down at him, greying curtains at their sides. Nothing new here. Nothing to make his heart sing.
The door opened and Jamie straightened up, shuffling closer to Mr Carter. A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. Middle-aged? Jamie laughed to himself. She was probably about the same age as him. Did that make him middle-aged? God, how depressing.
‘I’ve brought you a present, Miriam,’ Mr Carter said. ‘He’s on temporary loan. See what you can do with him. I think his leg is damaged.’
‘He’s a sorry-looking one,’ she agreed. ‘But I’ll do what I can.’
‘I know you will.’
‘What’s going on?’ Jamie asked, his voice still thick and slow. ‘Who’s she?’
‘She, is Miriam. You will be polite to her at all times.’
‘What do you mean, I’m ‘on loan’?’ Jamie asked, panic rousing him from his dizzy spell.
‘In you go,’ Mr Carter said. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow or the day after, by which time, Miriam will have worked her magic.’
‘Come straight through,’ the woman said in a no-nonsense kind of voice. Jamie was bigger and stronger than her, but she didn’t seem at all afraid of him. She had one of those teacher-ish voices – half kind, half condescending. Jamie followed her through into a blissfully cool hallway with a tiled floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Mr Carter had gone. Well, whatever this place was and whoever this Miriam woman turned out to be, it couldn’t be any worse than outside. Could it?
She led him into a plain room with bare plaster walls. Jamie took it all in – the desk, the wooden chair, a metal cabinet and a high bed, the kind that doctors used to use in the old days.
‘Can you remove your trousers and get up on the bench for me?’ Miriam asked, handing him a small cotton sheet.
‘What? Why?’ Jamie held onto the top of his trousers, at the same time realising how ridiculous he must look.
‘You have a bad leg and I’m a doctor,’ she said. ‘Use the sheet to cover yourself if you’re embarrassed.’
‘A doctor? Really?’
‘Would you like to see my credentials? I qualified over twenty years ago and I’ve had plenty of practice since then.’
‘Erm, nah, that’s okay.’ Jamie figured he could easily overpower her if she tried any funny stuff. As long as she didn’t pull a gun on him. He wrapped the proffered sheet around his waist, lowered his trousers and levered himself up onto the table, wincing as he was forced to put pressure on his bad leg.
Miriam was of a medium build with a nondescript face and short mid-brown hair graying at the temples. But she had full lips and wasn’t completely unattractive. As she prodded and poked at his flesh, Jamie wondered what he was even doing here in this strange house with this odd woman.
‘What happened to you?’ she asked.
‘There was a woman in an AV. She knocked me over and drove off.’
‘No breaks,’ she said after a minute or so of checking. ‘And luckily for you, no femur or tibia fractures.’
‘It feels really bad,’ Jamie said. ‘Are you sure it’s not broken?’
‘You wouldn’t be so calm if it was. You wouldn’t have been able to walk here either.’ She pressed the outside of his lower leg and Jamie yelled out in pain. ‘Localised swelling,’ she said. ‘Looks like you may have fractured your fibula.’
‘Fractured my what?’
‘Fibula. But it’s nothing to worry about. Get cleaned up first and then I’ll strap an ice pack on your leg.’
‘You have ice packs?’
‘We’re lucky here. God provides.’
Not normally he doesn’t, Jamie thought.
‘In the room next door you’ll find a shower, some soap, a toothbrush and a towel. When you’re dry, use the powder on the shelf. It’s good for getting rid of lice. I’ll be back in a minute with a nightshirt and some clean clothes.’
A bathroom? Clean clothes? Was he dreaming? And a toothbrush? Jamie hadn’t seen a toothbrush for years. He’d always used twigs whenever he could be bothered.
‘Are you hungry?’ Miriam asked.
Normally his standard reply to this was a big fat yes. But on the way here, Mr Carter had let him eat his fill of bread and fresh fruit – way more food than he normally ate in one sitting. ‘I’m okay thanks,’ he said. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Fine. Come back and see me when you’re clean. I’ll dress your cuts and put that ice pack on your leg.’
Jamie felt a flicker of some long-forgotten feeling. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his shoulders had begun to relax and that constant tight feeling around his head eased ever so slightly. Maybe it was because someone else was looking after him, worrying about his well-being. He hadn’t figured out why they were doing it yet. He didn’t buy into all that Christian charity crap. In his experience, no one did something for someone else without getting something in return. Not these days anyway. But for now, Jamie was going to get on board with it. He was going to pretend that everything was okay, that these people only had his best interests at heart. He would get cleaned up, rest, allow his leg to heal, eat his fill and then decide what to do later.
Chapter Seven
Riley
Luc’s mother, Rita, opened the front door. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
‘Hi, you. Come on in quick, it’s freezing out there.’
‘Hi, Rita. How are you?’ I stepped inside and rubbed at my arms.
‘Yeah, not bad. We’re off out so you and Luc can eat in peace without Eddie hovering around you like an old woman.’
‘I heard that.’ Eddie’s voice wafted through from one of the back rooms.
‘You were meant to,’ Rita called back. ‘Give me your coat, Riley. I’ll hang it up.’
I shrugged off my parka and handed it to her. ‘Thanks.’
‘Luc’ll be down in a minute. His shift finished later than planned. We’re short staffed what with this flu bug thing that’s going round. He’s just having a shower. He’s exhausted, bless him.’
‘We can always make it another night,’ I said.
‘No, no. It’s good for him to unwind. He’s been looking forward to you coming over.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If you’re sure.
She smiled, wrapping a patterned scarf around her neck and loosening her hair from its bun.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Before I forget, have you got any flour? Ma wants to bake a cake. She said she’d give you all a piece eac
h.’
‘Oh, yum. Your mother’s cakes are spectacular. Ask Luc to give you a cupful. It’s in the larder.’ She took off her glasses and set them on the side.
‘Oh, that’s brilliant. Thanks. Ma’ll be really pleased.’
Rita smoothed my hair absent-mindedly. ‘Good. Well, we’re going now, so will you be okay waiting for Luc? He shouldn’t be long.’
‘Hello, Riley.’ Eddie popped his head around the door. ‘Come on, Rita. We’re going to be late.’
‘I was waiting for you,’ she said. ‘See you, Riley.’
‘Bye, Rita. Eddie.’
The front door slammed and I slid down onto the battered kitchen sofa to wait for Luc. Footsteps creaked on the floorboards above and I chewed the corner of my thumb, trying to quell my butterflies. Before too long, I heard him coming down the stairs and my nerves intensified.
He walked into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a navy sweatshirt, rubbing at his newly-cropped hair with a towel. I stood up and he almost jumped a mile high, bashing his hip on the corner of the table.
‘Ow! God, I didn’t see you,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ I said, laughing.
‘Glad I amuse you. You almost gave me a heart attack. When did you get here?’
‘Sorry, haven’t been here long. Your mum and dad left a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Yeah, I heard the front door slam. You okay? Hungry?’
‘Starving,’ I lied. Food was the furthest thing from my mind.
‘It’s only veggie soup and bread,’ he said. ‘Sorry it’s not more fancy. We’ve got stuff, but Mum’s rationing.’
‘That’s okay. Soup’s great and I haven’t had bread in a while.’
‘Luc draped the towel over one of the kitchen stools, turned another stool to face me and sat down. I sank back into the sofa, slipped my trainers off and brought my feet up underneath me.
‘So what happened today at the 'pound?’ he asked, running a hand over his damp hair. ‘Everyone’s going on about it, but only you and Johnny were actually there. Spill, Culpepper.’
I grinned. ‘What’s it worth?’