Submersion

  ‘Ethan hasn’t been in any home. We lied to you. They’ve shut it down, Agnes. Shut them all down. Only taking in those who have no one at all to care for them. We thought they would help, after he attacked Ronan so viciously that time, but that simply served to strengthen their resolve. We were on our own. We kept it from you. Only Esther and Ronan were aware, aside from my Penny. We’ve been keeping him in the old shop. Locked up for his own good. He’s been a handful, but we’ve been coping.’

  It was a lot to take in. My cousin Ethan was rarely mentioned; his missing twin, Joshua, never at all – lost forever after he was taken as a ten year-old. Ethan hadn’t been seen in a long time, either. Seven or eight years, by my quick calculation, and then only briefly. It was the one and only time I remember seeing him, being so young when he was originally taken.

  I remember my aunt and uncle getting a call about him one day, fifteen years after his abduction – he’d been found and been kept in a hospital, to the north of the country. I remember they were gone for several days. It was a long journey and there were plenty of things to sort out. When they eventually returned, Esther had arranged a family get-together at hers, a spread of food on the table, best china out, everyone present. Mother had brought Ronan along, much to my sister’s aversion. Joe and Jessie were also there. I think we both expected our aunt and uncle to return with beaming smiles, and to greet our long-lost cousin with open arms and longing embraces. But it wasn’t like that at all.

  When they first drew up outside in their car – a rusty old Hillman Avenger that did the job (Uncle Jimmy) - Aunt Penny got out of the car first and her solemn expression said it all. I had a four year-old Elinor in my arms and came forward, eager to meet my cousin and introduce him to the beautiful daughter I’d made, but my aunt signalled for me to retreat.

  ‘Let’s not overwhelm him,’ she’d said, and I read the pain in her features; there was to be no joy in this reunion.

  ‘Of course,’ I’d conceded, and that’s when I saw him: through the back seat window. Whilst I had little or no memory of him, I’d built one up through looking at photographs and hearing tales about him.

  I smiled thinly at him, before retreating indoors. He smiled back, I recalled, but it was not a happy smile. It was a broken smile, a mad smile. Esther, holding an eighteen month-old Billy, followed my lead back indoors.

  That was it. The first and the last I saw of Ethan.

  I’m not entirely sure what happened next. A good deed attempted by Ronan that went wrong; well-meaning turned sour like milk left out on a hot day. The stupidest thing, Aunt Penny later referred to it, bitterly, as if Ronan had ruined the day, when in fact years of neglect and cruelty had seen to that by itself.

  I know that Mother came out of the house, determined – nothing was going to stop her seeing her grandson, nothing. Ronan had followed on, bringing with him a cake Mother had made and decorated, especially for the homecoming. Brought it with him to entice Ethan out of the car, like a shy child. Brought the whole thing out on the board Mother had set it on. It was chocolate, I recall. It must have taken up all of her sugar, butter and cocoa rations. The only truly stupid thing that Ronan did was to leave a large knife on the board. It all happened very quickly, according to Jessie, who witnessed it. Mother approached the car, opening the rear door, with Ronan very close behind. Ethan had leapt out – like a lightening flash – grabbed the knife and made for Ronan in a maddened fury. Cut at his forearms, slashed at his abdomen, too. Slashed it open, so he collapsed, clutching at his insides to keep them from spilling away. Mother and Uncle Jimmy intervened, earned cuts for their efforts, but they managed to get the knife, get Ethan back in the car with the help of Joe, Jessie and neighbours, who were quick to come out and help. It was different times back then. Two ambulances came – one for Ronan and another for Ethan. I was led to believe that Ethan’s ambulance took him back to the special unit he came from.

  Uncle Jimmy’s revelation that they’d been keeping him all this time at the old shop revealed this as a lie.

  Something else that stuck in my mind that day. An old fear. Not for Ronan’s wellbeing, or my cousin’s, for that. I remember feeling an intense terror. Blood had been spilled on our streets. I hadn’t seen it, but Jessie’s description had been vivid. Blood had gushed from Ronan’s wound, red splashing on the pavement. Not that he’d meant to scare me – he’d just come out with it, still shocked by the event.

  Would they sniff it out? I’d asked him, having retreated with infant Elinor to my bedroom. Would they smell the blood and come looking? Would they smell my baby, is what I really meant, what I feared most.

  No, Jessie had reassured me, joining me on my bed, enveloping me and my daughter in his rough, warm embrace. No, they won’t come looking for her. She’s safe with us.

  And yet, he was wrong, wasn’t he? The dogs might not have come for her, but something else had. Eventually.

  I brought myself back to the present. Esther had ceased crying, but was still breathing fast and deep, forcing herself to stay calm. Uncle Jimmy was still at the table.

  ‘What about Billy? You said he’d been missing? Is he alright now?’

  ‘We need to get back to him! Need to check he’s alright! Need to check Ethan’s not there, too!’

  Suddenly Esther was full of life again, energised with passion and panic. Uncle Jimmy stood and touched her reassuringly.

  ‘Nothing we can do, love, but I’ll make a quick call to my Penny. Check on them both. And Ethan doesn’t know about North Courts, remember? He never lived there, so they’re quite safe.’

  Whilst Uncle Jimmy made a quick telephone call to my aunt, Esther pulled herself together enough to recite a brief summary of the evening’s other drama.

  ‘Billy went to the old shop. Stole Uncle Jimmy’s spare keys. Got it in his head he’d find his father there. Or clues about him. I haven’t managed to get that much sense out of him. Don’t want to push it. He stole a boat, too.’

  ‘A boat?’ I managed, unsure of how to respond, as I took in all this new information.

  ‘From school,’ Esther confirmed, then her voice changed again, the dam she had built up against her emotions cracking, the flood washing over its fragile remains. ‘Oh, Agnes. He was so cold. Just standing there in the water. He’d lost his mask, too. Been exposed to all that pollution. Oh, Esther, what if he dies? He was so, so cold.’

  When Uncle Jimmy returned with good news – yes, both were fine, the boy getting warmer, sleeping off his adventure – Esther was back in my embrace, her tears and mucus soaking me, her breathing jumpy, agitated.

  ‘Maybe I should come with you?’ I suggested, concerned for her wellbeing, thinking I could help with Billy.

  But Uncle Jimmy shook his head.

  ‘You look shattered yourself,’ he said, gently. ‘Maybe you’d be better off sleeping here and catching up with us tomorrow?’

  ‘But look at the state-.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Esther interrupted, her emotions as irregular as her breathing, abruptly annoyed by what she’d have considered unnecessary sympathy. ‘Besides, Tristan will wonder where you are, if he returns tonight. And what if-.’

  She stopped, forgetting herself, but I knew what she was going to say and she had a point. And what if Elinor returned and wondered where you were?

  ‘I’ll stay, okay. And I’ll ring first thing.’

  ‘And keep that door locked, just in case.’

  ‘I think you might have knocked it down,’ I joked, but it was lost on them both.

  Within five minutes, they had pulled their protective clothing back on and vacated the house. I was on my own again, physically exhausted, but so mentally alert I had no chance of sleep.

  When the rattling of my front door stirred me and I discovered it was morning, I was greatly surprised.

  As the knocking was insistent and ceaseless in its attempt to attract my attention, I felt like I had gone back in time to the night before and half expected to find my sist
er and uncle out in the street again. Aware that I’d had no update regarding my missing cousin, I was cautious about just opening up to anyone.

  ‘Who is it?’ I asked, shouting out from the last few rungs of the damp stairs, wearing just my boots for protection. If it hadn’t been for the water, I think I might have abandoned the government-issue clothing altogether. It was increasingly clear that there was nothing untoward in the atmosphere.

  ‘It’s me!’ a voice responded, not really answering my question, but I instantly recognised it and seconds later Augustus was following back up the stairs.

  ‘I just have to make a call,’ I told him, leaving him at the kitchen table, ferreting through a bag he’d brought with him. ‘Need to check on my sister. We’ve had an eventual night.’

  ‘And I’ve had an eventful morning!’ he chirped and something told me that he was so preoccupied that he wasn’t really listening, hadn’t picked up on any clues in my tired eyes and voice.

  Returning five minutes later, this was confirmed when he made no further enquiries. Billy was fine, sleeping, but nothing to worry about. Ethan was still missing, though, and Uncle Jimmy had reluctantly called the police. The latter activity seemed to have shaken him the most – whilst Ethan’s crime against Ronan had been reported, official charges were never made. And my uncle had promised the police, and promised a critically ill Ronan, that he could keep Ethan safe. Keep us all safe. Now he’d had to admit failure. I was reassured by the fact no one had openly blamed Billy for the disaster. That would have been so easy – and quite typical of my aunt’s approach to things; blaming others was a speciality of hers. But no, by the limited accounts I’d received, they were shouldering the blame themselves.

  ‘Although we all know who is really to blame,’ I said to Augustus, whose non-response confirmed once and for all that I was wasting my breath. The old man – my daughter’s grandfather, a thought that was still novel to me – needed my full attention. I wasn’t getting any of his, that was certain. ‘So,’ I asked, finally conceding to his unspoken demands. ‘What’s all the excitement about?’

  He had me won over with just two words:

  ‘The tape!’ he exclaimed, holding up a clear plastic oblong. Inside I could see two reels of brown tape wound round two tiny white wheels. It was similar to the copy he had given me previously. ‘It’s a copy of the whole thing. I’ve not listened to it properly, but I know it works. Thought I’d get it round to you as soon as possible.’

  As I only had the small, personal machine he had previously given me, I suggested that he went back to his and listened to it together in his music room. Whilst Augustus had put great store in this discovery and genuinely believed we’d find all our answers on it, my instincts told me something different. Maybe I was just over-tired from lack of sleep, still mentally exhausted from trawling through the local educational archives. But the snippets I had heard so far had given up so little that it seemed foolish to believe anything would change once we’d listened to the rest.

  ‘You go ahead and start without me,’ I instructed him, ushering him back down the stairs. ‘I need breakfast and a chance to get dressed. Then I’ll join you.’

  He agreed, undeterred by my lack of enthusiasm, and I promised I’d be with him within the hour.

  It was the ringing of the phone that brought me to my senses – my head was rested on the kitchen table, to my left a plate of crumbs and a half-drunk mug of weak tea. Shaking the rest of the sleep from my body, I dashed for the telephone – following the incident with Billy, I was no longer ignoring my callers. I thought it might be Esther or Uncle Jimmy with an update. It wasn’t – it was Augustus. I had fallen asleep, instead of getting myself dressed and joining him back at his.

  ‘You need to come now,’ he said, his voice worryingly serious.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked, feeling panic rise in my chest, my heart thumping to get out.

  ‘Just come, Agnes. I’ll explain when you get here.’

  I still wasn’t dressed, but I was no longer feeling so flippant about the tape. Whilst there wasn’t hope in Augustus’ voice, it was clear he had found something. Something to be concerned about. Something urgent.

  Not wasting another second, I pulled my protective gear over the clothes I had slept in, pulled on my protective mask for show, and rowed my small boat in the direction of the Cadley residence. I arrived just five minutes after our telephone call ended.

  ‘Quick, up you come,’ Augustus fussed as I came through the door. ‘I’ve been listening to the tape. It might be nothing,’ he said, as we twirled upwards, both feeling dizzy when we stepped off and entered the room that contained all his audio equipment. ‘But we’re all on it, Agnes. She taped us all.’

  ‘Augustus, that’s not a surprise. She did that, all the time, pretending she was-.’

  ‘These are different Agnes. All recorded in secret, I’m certain. And some of the conversations are, well.’ He paused, lost for words. ‘I guess, some of the conversations are worrying. Odd. Revealing. Yes, revealing is a better word.’

  ‘Augustus, maybe we should just listen?’ I suggested, trying not to sound impatient. Yet, he’d raised my expectations, my adrenaline levels too, and his empty wittering had neither quashed my fears nor satisfied my curiosity.

  ‘Yes, yes, you’re right,’ he answered, gesturing that I take a seat, whilst he fiddled about with the technology.

  Familiar voices soon filled the room, booming down from the speakers hidden in his ceiling. The first few segments I’d heard before.

  A story from Tristan. ‘The day they came was an ordinary day. A day before the floods. Before the water washed through every part of the land. The days when milk floats hummed along the roads, delivering bottles of milk each morning to doorsteps, when daily newspapers and magazines were delivered by bicycle or moped.’

  A conversation between Tristan and me, discussing Elinor. ‘I worry about her, you know. Going out for long days. I want her to have her freedom, but what if something happens to her?’ ‘Nothing is going to happen to her. She’s a good girl. And it’s safe.’

  Another tale from Tristan followed. ‘The White City was a quiet, sacred place. Cold to look upon, but warm in spirit all the same.’

  And another. ‘When they took me, they kept me isolated at first. The idea was to break me in some way. Remove contact with other reasonable humans with the view of removing humanity from me entirely.’ Although, this latter story was close to the truth, and probably a true account of what Tristan suffered. Strange how he’d revealed more to my daughter through his stories than he had to me during our entire time together. The reference to Xavier in this instance – the fact that Tristan was connected, the fact that we were all connected to this one person, made a small, cold shiver shimmer across my skin.

  But all this I had heard before; nothing was new.

  ‘Just listen,’ Augustus insisted, gently, when I expressed this. He had paused the tape. ‘There is more. It just made sense to listen to it in sequence. It may mean more to you that way.’

  I nodded my acceptance and he pressed play on the machine and the segment where Tristan referred to Xavier played itself out. The next piece was odd; the voices surprised me.

  ‘Did you hear that?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A noise? Something. Listen.’

  ‘It’s my sister,’ I told Augustus and he nodded, confirming he’d thought this too. ‘I’m not sure about the other voice.’ We listened on.

  ‘No, couldn’t hear a thing.’

  ‘There it goes again. When you were talking. Breathing, or something.’

  ‘You’re paranoid. No one is there.’

  ‘You can’t be sure.’

  ‘No, you can be sure, but you can’t be too careful. How about I go and check?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you. Thank you, Monty.’

  Augustus paused the tape.

  ‘The only Monty I know is Monty Harrison, the g-.’

  ‘Gangster,
’ I said, finishing the old man’s sentence.

  ‘Does your sister know Mr Harrison?’

  ‘No, well, yes,’ I corrected myself. ‘Joe – Billy’s father – had some connection. But I’ve no idea why Esther would be involved with him.’

  ‘They sound concerned at being overheard. What they say suggests they think someone is listening,’ Augustus continued, watching my face, checking what I might be assuming.

  ‘Do you think they knew Elinor was listening?’ I asked.

  The old man shrugged.

  ‘They don’t really say anything, though, do they? Nothing to be worried about,’ he said, still watching me, checking my emotional state. ‘But they are worried about something. Maybe they were worried about being seen together?’ he suggested.

  ‘But why? It doesn’t add up.’

  Another shrug.

  ‘There’s another section with your sister in it. Talking to your Uncle.’

  ‘Jimmy?’

  ‘Yes. It’s next. Shall I start the tape again?’

  I nodded.

  ‘I’m a little worried.’

  ‘Worried?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think someone knows.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think I’ve been followed.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘I know. I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘This person? Talk to them. Tell them the truth. And tell them to keep it secret.’

  ‘And what if they refuse?’

  ‘Then you make them disappear.’

  At this point, Augustus paused the tape and reached out to me. I could feel the blood draining from my body, like someone had slashed the soles of my feet and red fluid had gushed out in seconds. The touch of Augustus’ soft hands brought some warmth back into my system.

  ‘I can see what you are thinking. Jumping to conclusions. It’s just talk, that’s all. Just talk.’

  I thought of what had occurred the night before – Billy breaking into my aunt and uncle’s old shop, my cousin Ethan escaping from the prison they had created there.