Since the trial I avoided the Henleys as much as I could. I didn’t want to speak to Roger. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.
A long extension cord stretched from my table to a generator behind a block of garages and a stereo blared out a compilation CD of old songs, reminding me of my teenage years spent in the middle of a field, staring up at the sky and laughing with friends. Sipping my water I eyed the cider, and patted my bump: not long.
“Kate?” I looked down at Alan, who had stopped drawing and was holding his hands together on his pad. He stared gravely back at me, his big brown eyes wide and his mouth smeared with jam.
“Yes?”
“Is that really a baby in your tummy?”
I tried not to smile. He was so serious all the time.
“It is.”
He nodded, picking up his felt tips and drawing again. He fastidiously coloured within the lines of the pad and replaced the lids to his pens with care when he changed colours.
“That’s very good.”
“It’s okay.”
I struggled to think of something more to say and instead we both remained quiet. I went back to watching the townspeople. It was just gone two p.m. and the handful of elderly churchgoers walked out of the vicarage and made their way to the party. The young vicar trailed behind, stopping to talk to everyone who smiled and waved to him. He scanned the crowd and made eye contact with me. I dropped my gaze and watched Alan again who had discarded the colouring and moved back to drawing.
“What are you drawing now?”
“Me and you,” he replied, cocking his head to one side, sticking his tongue out and concentrating on the pad. I watched as he coloured my brown hair on the page. I was alarmingly round, but I was smiling and holding what I presumed was his hand. He was smiling too.
“You look happy in that picture, Alan.” I pointed to his grin and smiled at him, ruffling his hair.
“It’s because you and me are going home and we are going to bake a cake and then read and I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”
“Are we?”
“Yes.” Stopping he looked up again. “Why did mummy leave me?”
I had no reply and shook my head slowly.
He then decided that he was going to live with me. I panicked and reminded him that he lived with Rose. I stood and waved Rose over from the new W.I. table and repeated the conversation, begging her to speak to him. Before she had a chance to reply I strode away to a small section of patchy grass near the church and sat down. I watched as Rose spoke to Alan, he kept looking over at me, and then up at Rose again, until confusion and hurt crossed his face. He slowly replaced the lid to his felt tip and then pushed back his chair, it toppled to the ground and he ran down the road with Rose following. A shadow cut across me.
“Katherine, isn’t it?” said a deep voice. It was the vicar. I nodded in response. I wanted to shift to one side but I couldn’t, and instead a waft of cinnamon and apple hit me.
“I’m Richard.” He held out his hand and I shook it. “Rich, though, please.”
He stretched out his legs and I found myself staring at his dark blue-black jeans. I had thought he was wearing trousers earlier, but now he wore designer jeans. Go away, please.
“I prefer Kate,” I finally replied.
“I haven’t seen you at church, not a believer?”
He didn’t mince his words. I found it refreshing and shook my head.
“It’s not for everyone, but it helps some.”
I hoped he wasn’t going to preach. I’d suffered the ramblings of a believer during my time in the Unlands; his name was Eli and he had followed me around for a week. He was harmless, but the amount of time he spent telling me to believe in the Lord and I would find salvation wore me down to the point where I waited until he slept one night and left. I’d felt bad for days after, worrying about him and how he would eat and survive, and I’d tried to find him again just to reassure myself that he was all right. But after four days of looking I gave up. Eli was gone. Sitting in the town watching everyone laugh and play, I didn’t want to be reminded of the world outside of this haven, of people like Eli. Rich spoke again, asking questions about my time in the town and offering information on his life as a form of enticement.
“Where are you from?” I asked eventually, his accent betrayed that he wasn’t from around here.
“A small town in the south. Well, my family are from there. I left some time before the wars and moved here. One moment,” he added, jumping up and walking to the food. I watched as he piled up a plate and poured two plastic glasses of water. Returning, he handed one glass to me and placed the plate between us.
“I won’t eat all this, please.”
I thanked him, but didn’t touch the food. “Are you married?” He nodded to my ring and I touched the painful reminder of my time with him.
“I was.”
“I’m sorry.” And he truly sounded sorry. I shrugged and looked out at the road. It didn’t hurt anymore: the pain of losing everyone had finally eased away. I couldn’t see his face now; it was nothing more than a haze of black and white. Everything that reminded me of home and my life before had been traded, lost or taken from me. I had one photo, and that was it.
“It’s a good place to restart, rebuild and rejoice.” Rich rolled the sleeves of his shirt up: his right arm was a mess of thick and twisted burn scars, and his left was covered in a full tattoo sleeve.
“I tried to help at the school when it was bombed.” Lifting the edge of his shirt, the scars continued across his side and stomach. “A small price to pay for Lara and Daisy.”
He pointed to two girls painting at the crafts table, both were around ten years old. I remembered Daisy: she was one of the giggliest and loudest girls in the library.
“Your hand seems fine.” What a stupid thing to say. I should have commented on his bravery or something. He burst out laughing and I jumped.
“You know, no one ever notices, everyone always goes on about the girls and my brave act.” He rolled his eyes and grinned. “I’ve got so used to people asking that I automatically feel the need to tell them it was for Lara and Daisy, sorry if I sounded a twat.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t think you were being a twat.”
“My hand was protected. I’d wrapped my jacket around it as I opened one of the doors in the school. I didn’t think about things falling.”
“Sorry.”
He smiled widely again, and I maintained eye contact for longer than I had in a long while with anyone.
“So when is the baby due?”
His words broke the spell. “About six or eight weeks.”
“Excited?”
I looked down at the stretched white top I wore, the bottom of my stomach peeking out over the top of my skirt. “I suppose so.”
We chatted for an hour or so. I didn’t deny him this time, and I told him snippets of my life before the war, carefully editing out anything personal or interesting. I made my story beige and boring, but he listened as though I told him I was a superstar. I caught myself staring at his tattoos on more than one occasion, making out a koi carp, a lotus flower and a huge cross, a mix of beautiful blues, oranges and greens.
“A throwback from my wild youth.”
“What?”
“My tattoo, you keep looking at it.”
My cheeks reddened.
“I got it during my discernment period, and then I realised that it might not be a great idea.”
“It’s striking.”
“That’s very diplomatic of you.”
“No, I meant it’s lovely. Really bright, I like it.” I was going redder, I could feel it.
“I’m just teasing. It was a mistake is what it was. I was caught up in all the excitement of finding my calling that I thought I’d get inked. There were three of us that found each other during those dark times, and we celebrated our path with light – lots of light and bright colours. It took bloody ages and four
sittings.” He gave me a rueful smile. “Now, I’ve kept you far too long.” He stood and held out his hands. “Easter egg time.”
I reached up and allowed him to pull me to my feet, startled at my body’s lack of protest at his touch; my top rode up my back. He said nothing and instead escorted me to Deven with gentlemanly grace. Soon the children were lined up and the clues handed out. They were banded according to age and when the older teenagers saw the maths questions there was a collective groan. Then the sharp-eyed Mo spotted the games console tucked away behind my table. I watched as he nudged and whispered to his friends and, suddenly, the maths looked good.
Alan and Rose were still missing. I would have to make it up to him. He couldn’t live with me, I couldn’t take care of him. I almost heard my voice say “I can’t take care of a kid,” but I stopped myself.
Rich stayed nearby, chatting to the older women and laughing with the Enforcers. He was the male equivalent of Hayley: lambs around the shepherd. I snorted aloud at the image and looked for Hayley, eventually finding her with her friends and the remainder of what looked like a case of wine. Her cheeks were flushed and she was giggling uncontrollably. As the parents moved around the safe areas of the town with the kids I found myself replaying my chat with Rich; talking to him was different. I’d only felt that same way around Old Tom.
As the groups started to file back with the clues and prizes from the trail, I handed out the rewards to them. Nikky and I had decided to give all the children a gift. It didn’t seem fair to reward just the winners.
It did, however, make me laugh to see Lee and Mr Henley’s daughter race each other back to the table, out of breath and shouting. Apparently, Nina was a ‘dirty cheat’ and the argument escalated until I cut in and softly told them there was a console for each of them, and one would be permanently installed in the library once the solar panels were fitted. Suddenly, all was right with their world and Nina was ‘cool’ once more. Christ, I was old. With the children occupied, and some begging to go home, the streets thinned and soon there were just twenty of us left. On my insistence, Hayley staggered home and I started clearing up the mess. The paper plates and torn paper decorations were thrown away in black bags, for the first time I wondered where the rubbish was taken; I’d have to ask Hayley when she was sober. With so few it took hours. My feet were swollen and every part of me ached, but I ignored Laura’s pleas for me to relax. It was only when a stern-looking Rich dragged over Old Tom’s deck chair and forced me to sit that I paid attention. Tom stood behind him tutting and shaking his head at me. I felt guilty sitting and watching the others work.
I was cold: I’d waited for the arrival of the convoy for several hours, sitting out in the dark with a blanket and thermos of tea. It was nearly midnight before the crackle of static on the radio and Glen’s voice roused me:
“Sweetheart? Are you up?”
“No, it’s me, Kate, I’m by the main gate.”
He told me they were five to ten minutes away. I switched the radio off and waited. When they arrived I was stunned to see so many new faces, at least twenty, and eventually Nikky appeared.
“Did I miss much? How did the Easter egg hunt go? Were the kids good? I’ve got so much to tell you.” Nikky embraced me with a tight hug and the words tumbled out of her mouth. “Kate! You’ve got so big in ten days, this baby is going to be huge!”
“I hope not,” I replied, laughing and screwing my face up in mock pain. “And you didn’t miss much. Easter was good, the week after okay, and you’ll be gobsmacked to know I went to church yesterday.”
She teased me with gross stories of childbirth as we walked back to her house. I nodded to Glen and he continued to unpack the vans and relay orders to the Enforcers; he raised a hand in response.
I then pressed Nikky about the other town; it was more heavily populated but lacking in natural resources and sustainable energy. There was a school with over ninety children and seven teachers. Nikky excitedly told me that on the next trip back two teachers would be coming for resettlement; and once the northern sector was clear we were to expect the arrival of another fifty to sixty re-settlers. The relief at no longer being the newcomer was overwhelming, and I found myself grinning.
“You’ll never guess what?” She didn’t wait for me to ask. “Honestly, this is good… Simon’s got a step-son and fiancée in Blackwood.”
“A fiancée?” I thought of Deven, screwing up my face in confusion and wondering whether he knew.
“I know! She’s lovely too. Really sweet and loves helping out at the school. Simon runs the Enforcers from Blackwood. They all live in one area there but Cali, Simon’s fiancée, makes sure only those on duty carry weapons. Cali is basically treated like royalty because she’s just so lovely, and Simon’s the King of Blackwood. Everyone listens to him, even the Council there.”
The grimace on my face was clear and she nodded. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Why doesn’t he stay in Blackwood then? He’s here more than he is there.”
“Apparently he’s been busy recruiting more Enforcers and because we’re closer to the other towns here it’s easier to work out of here. He goes back loads though. His second-in-command is quite dishy. A big tall blonde guy. Looks like a movie star. He was lovely to us when we were there.”
I rolled my eyes. “An Enforcer, though. They’re all the same.”
“Yeah, but some of them aren’t bad.” She winked and I groaned in disgust. “What? I’m only human! A girl has needs.”
“Nikky!”
“What? I’ll seal up soon.”
I snorted in disgust as she grinned and winked at me. I’d missed her.
She then asked about the children. Alan hadn’t forgiven me; he refused to talk to me, or even look at me. It was only this morning at church that I made any progress when I gave him an apple, receiving a small ‘thank you’; but nothing more. Even Rose couldn’t persuade him to open up. I’d ruined everything.
“What’s this about church?” she asked as I unlocked her front door and she dumped her bags in the hallway. I collapsed onto her huge sofa, kicking off my sandals.
“Rich convinced me to give it a try. I’ll admit it’s not as bad as I thought. I expected him to cry and shout about the end of the world and fill the service with doom and gloom, but it was all right. Bit too much God-speak, but it was doable.”
“Rich? He’s cool. Makes church a community thing.” She dragged the footstool over and sat next to me, both of us groaning as we lifted our feet. “I’m not tired yet, I feel pumped. I slept a bit in the truck but I’ve got so many ideas for the school, wanna see?”
I was exhausted. My limbs were like lead but I nodded. I could sleep soon. She knelt by her bag and pulled out her drawing pad and a small notebook. She had a timetable organised, with dedicated lessons in English, maths, science and general studies, split into three age groups and colour coded with topics to discuss and possible lessons on history and art. I was impressed.
“There’s this really nice bloke who used to teach in a school with loads of troubled kids and he had a small timetable. He was really helpful.”
“Was he ‘dishy’ too?” I teased.
“Very. In a broody, intense and manly way. Don’t think he was interested, though. I tried.” She pouted and pursed her lips. “Ah well, always next time.” She lifted her pad onto her lap. “Now, you ready to see my surprise? I finished it the day I got there.”
She handed me the pad and I flicked it open. It was me. She’d drawn me sitting in the library with a book in front of me and a hand on my bump. It was excellent, as though she had copied a photograph; she’d even captured the way the right side of my mouth curled up as I smiled when in thought.
“It’s amazing, really amazing. When did you do this? I mean, I know you finished it there, but when did you start it?”
“A few days before I left, I saw you sitting there with the light behind you and you actually looked happy.” I screwed up my face. “No, you did!
You looked so peaceful.”
She then told me how she had been finishing the picture in the communal canteen when the teachers had arrived; they’d seen her drawing and begged her to do more. She received three commissions and the promise of more work when she returned.
“Peter – the dishy teacher from the school with the troubled kids – tried to trade for my pad! He loved it and suggested that I give art lessons as well, so I’m going to try and fit them in.”
“It’s a great idea.” I held the pad. “Will you look after this for me? I only have my room and I don’t want it getting damaged.”
“Yeah, course.”
I listened as she told me about the way the other community lived, further inland. They had no wind farms nearby and the use of generators was rationed; there were no eco-homes or running water. It reminded me of the towns from the Unlands, but the streets were full of Enforcers who ensured those who lived there abided by the laws: a zero tolerance policy. She witnessed three people excluded from the town, an adulterer, a thief and a fighter, gone with only the farce of a trial that poor Neil had suffered. We spoke then about how Amy was still missing and her face fell, but there was something else hidden there. I knew better than to pry, and she continued to talk until I finally fell asleep.
The following morning I woke with a stiff neck and sore back. At some point Nikky had covered me with a huge fleece. I crept from the house and walked to the beach. It was early, and Old Tom with his bucket and smokes walked across the sand. Calling out to him, I waved eagerly, and he slowed and waited for me to catch up.
“Mornin’ Katie, yer up earlier than usual. Babby keepin’ yer awake?”
I told him about my night at Nikky’s and he chuckled as we walked to the rock pools. I climbed up next to him and dangled my feet in the water.
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