by Helen Harper
‘They’re like me,’ she says softly. ‘And now you. Although if you’re lucky, your condition is only temporary.’
In the far corner, there’s a grunt as one of the figures stirs. I jump. ‘What was that?’
Esme peers into the gloom. ‘Bob, I think.’ She smiles faintly. ‘Of course, that’s not his real name but I feel like I’ve come to know them all so to make things more ... normal, I’ve named them.’ She points at the huddled shape of a young girl. ‘She’s Pixie. Next to her is Al. Then Max and Tory and Lisa.’ She laughs awkwardly. ‘It’s stupid, I know, but they need some dignity. Nobody cares for them apart from me so it helps if I give them names.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Esme turns and looks at me. ‘They’re unconscious,’ she says quietly.
‘I can see that.’
‘No, I mean, they’re unconscious in the real world. Some come and go and spend very little time here but the majority stay for months. There are a few who’ve been here for years. They wake up sometimes and stumble around a bit, then they just go back to sleep.’
‘You mean you...’
She nods. ‘I was in a car crash. At least, that’s what I remember. It was about eighteen years ago, give or take. I’ve been here ever since.’
I stare at her. ‘You never leave the Dreamlands?’
‘No. Persistent vegetative state. Maybe. And not here of course. I’m just thankful my family haven’t turned off the machines that keep me alive.’
I look at the people in the room in a new light. ‘So all these people–’
‘Yes. You’re in Sleeping Beauty’s castle, after all.’
I swallow the painful lump in my throat. ‘That’s awful.’
‘It could be worse.’
Frankly, I can’t see how. A sick feeling rises up in my stomach. ‘Does that mean I’m in a coma too?’
‘Probably not.’
‘Probably not?’ I try not to screech. The Mayor aside, I enjoy my dream jaunts but I don’t want to leave behind the real world forever. Just how strong is my mother? Involuntarily, I touch my skull again where she whacked me. I hope she’s not freaking out too much.
Esme smiles. ‘You’ll be fine.’
‘I’d better be,’ I mutter. ‘Sorry, that’s not fair on you.’
‘It’s okay. I’m kind of used to it.’
I hear something and glance from side to side but see nothing new. I shove my hands in my pockets. ‘I should thank you,’ I say. ‘For helping me get out of that room. And for the information about the mares.’
‘I’m glad you managed to free them.’
‘I thought you weren’t on anyone’s side?’
Esme shrugs. ‘As far as I’m concerned, it’s all about survival. Mine and theirs,’ she says, gesturing at the sleepers. ‘I’ve had one foot in my grave for almost two decades. I live every day with the threat of having my plug pulled. If someone decides to do that, then there’s not a damned thing I can do about it. And there’ll be no one left to look after this lot. So while I might not agree with the Mayor’s methods, I’m not about to go up against him myself. Life is too precious. Even this life.’
I’m incredulous. ‘He’s murdering people!’
‘All the more reason to keep away from him.’ Her eyes harden. ‘You should be careful too, Zoe. If you really are the dreamweaver everyone says you are, then you’re hot property. It won’t just be the Mayor who wants to use you.’
I think about Dante and Bron. Are they trying to use me? Is that why Dante made such an abrupt volte-face about trusting me? I open my mouth to ask Esme about him but then I hear something again. It sounds like my own name.
Esme watches me carefully. ‘You’re lucky,’ she says finally.
‘What do you mean?’
I hear my own name again. This time it’s clearer and more distinct.
‘I’ll see you around, Zoe,’ Esme says softly. ‘Don’t come here again though. They don’t like strangers.’
I blink, confused. Then there’s a deep throbbing pain in my head and my mother, phone in hand and fear in her eyes, is gazing down at me.
***
‘I don’t understand,’ she says for the umpteenth time.
I shrug. ‘I can’t really explain it,’ I lie. ‘I just realised I didn’t want to stay indoors any longer.’
‘So you did meet that man? Mr Malpeter? When he appeared at my door and said he’d met you in the city and wanted to find you again, I thought he was lying and up to no good. I told him I didn’t have any children.’
I think quickly. ‘He is up to no good,’ I say. ‘If you see him again, you need to steer well clear of him.’ I lower my voice; I need to say something to convince her that he’s dangerous. ‘He’s been to prison.’
She stares at me in horror. ‘Zoe, how did you meet him?’
‘It’s, uh, a long story. But please, if he comes round again, stick to the same story. You don’t have any children and you don’t know who I am.’ It sounds feeble even to my own ears. I’m not sure she can pull it off. But if the Mayor re-appears, he could do anything to hurt her ... my stomach twists with anxiety. I need to think of something else to keep her away from his clutches.
‘I don’t understand,’ she says again.
‘It’s okay, mum,’ I reply reassuringly. I spread out my arms. ‘Look! I’m alright! I even walked here! Ta da!’
She sinks down into a chair. ‘This is all so strange.’
She doesn’t know the half of it. For something to do, I search around her cupboards for a vase. Eventually I locate one and fill it with water, then shove in the bouquet of flowers. When I turn back to her, she’s still gaping at me.
‘Aren’t you pleased?’ I ask in a small voice.
‘Oh, Zoe,’ she says suddenly, reaching up to hug me. ‘I’m thrilled. I’ve been so worried. It’s just...’
‘Strange. I know.’ I force a smile. ‘I’m still quite nervous when I’m out and about but I really think things are getting better.’
‘Well, obviously, darling! You’re here, after all.’ She shakes her head as she surveys me. ‘It’s fantastic. I can’t wait to tell everyone.’
My eyes widen in alarm. ‘Actually,’ I say hastily, ‘I’d prefer if you didn’t.’
She frowns. ‘Why ever not?’
I take a leaf out of Jerry’s book. I need to know that she’s going to be safe; I can’t count on the lies she told the Mayor – or Malpeter, or whatever he’s called –keeping him at bay for long. ‘You should go off on holiday instead,’ I declare.
‘What?’
‘You heard me,’ I say firmly. ‘You’ve not left this town since ... well, since I got ill. You deserve a break. I’ll even pay for it. You can pack a bag and leave right now.’
‘I’m not leaving! We need to go out and celebrate together! You’re cured, Zoe. This isn’t the time for me to leave!’
‘Actually it is.’ I take a deep breath and tell myself I’m being cruel to be kind. ‘Your mothering makes things worse.’
She gapes. ‘What?’
‘You know, all the checking up on me and the doctors and the hovering ... it’s kind of suffocating sometimes.’
She looks so hurt that I almost start crying. ‘Zoe, I...’
‘Go away on holiday for a couple of weeks and enjoy yourself. That way I’ll be able to finish healing and when you’re back and I’m really better, we can celebrate.’
‘But...’
I force myself to meet her eyes. ‘Please. I think it will help me. I need to do this alone.’
‘I’m your mother,’ she says bewildered. ‘I need to be here.’
‘No. You don’t.’ I say it so flatly that she recoils.
‘If that’s what you really want,’ she whispers.
‘It is.’
***
I bundle her off in a taxi as quickly as I can. She still seems hurt and every time I look at her, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I don’t have the time to ma
ke her see the truth. She needs to be safe.
The second the taxi is out of sight, I start walking back into town again. I’m careful, traversing the small alleys and worn paths that I used to mess around in when I was a child. I can’t risk the Mayor driving past in his shiny car and spotting me. It takes me far longer to get to the police station than it should but it gives me time to work out a plan.
I’m bloody terrified – but at this stage I don’t feel I have much of a choice. The Mayor is on my tail and it’s only a matter of time before he catches up with me. Between Esme’s apathy and the other Travellers’ combination of fear and misplaced trust, I need to do this on my own. I’m not even sure I can count on Dante or Bron to help me out; I might not be able to trust them either. All the same, when I’m finally standing in front of the familiar police station, I almost have a change of heart. Then I stiffen my resolve and walk inside.
The desk sergeant looks bored. ‘Can I help you?’ he asks politely.
I clear my throat. ‘I’d like to speak to Sergeant Rawlins, please.’ There’s a tremor in my voice. He raises his eyebrows, curiosity in his eyes. I stand straighter. ‘The sooner the better.’
He regards me sombrely for a moment then picks up a phone and mutters into it. I take a seat. This could go very badly for me in the long run but the Mayor has forced my hand. I have to do this.
It seems an eternity before she appears. When she does, there’s the same expression in her eyes. She thinks I’m a dangerous freak who’s manipulating her mind. She may not be entirely wrong. I stand up and wipe my sweaty palms on my trousers.
‘What can I do for you now, Ms Lydon? Would you like to report another strange death? Or perhaps one of your neighbours is pilfering items?’ She drops her voice and stares at me malevolently. ‘Maybe you want to tell me more about my own psyche.’
I can’t blame her for reacting like this. There are a lot of things I should have done to handle this better. I remind myself to breathe and look her in the eyes. ‘I want to confess to murder. I’m responsible for the deaths of Dean Salib and Thomas Miller.’
Chapter Eighteen
They say if you dream a thing more than once, it’s sure to come true.
Disney’s Sleeping Beauty
After using my one phone call to make sure someone will look after the Chairman, I meet my solicitor again. Andrew Brown has an air of giddy excitement; he does his best to contain it but it fills the small room. I guess he’s never had to defend an alleged murderer before.
‘What you need to tell me, Ms Lydon, is why you’ve confessed. The police had already decided not to question you further. You were free. Now, well frankly, you might have to spend the rest of your life behind bars.’
I hope it won’t come to that. Right now, however, I’m not worrying about tomorrow, I’m just focusing on making it to the end of the day without being killed. Being stuck in a prison cell is the best I can manage. Unless the Mayor also happens to be a police officer in real life, this is about the safest place in the world – and it will enable me to put my hastily cobbled together plans into action.
I tread carefully. ‘The guilt was just too much.’
He seems disappointed. ‘So you’re planning to plead guilty.’ He can obviously see his dreams of a sensational murder trial disappearing before his eyes.
‘I already confessed, right?’
‘You know the first question you’ll be asked is why.’
This is an odd situation where the truth will probably end up helping me. ‘Salib messed with my mind,’ I say earnestly. ‘It’s because of him that I’m agoraphobic.’
Brown leans forward. ‘He abused you?’
‘He cast a spell so I was afraid to leave my own home.’
I can see the doubt creeping into Brown’s eyes. ‘And Dr Miller?’
‘He prescribed me some pills. They made me feel funny.’
‘So you killed him too?’
‘Yes.’ I lean back and knit my fingers together.
‘How? It appears as if both he and Mr Salib had heart attacks.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Ms Lydon, I’m your solicitor. If you choose to retain me, that is,’ he adds quickly. ‘You can trust me.’
I try to inject the right amount of crazy. ‘Are you sure you want to be my solicitor? What if I end up killing you too?’
Brown is alarmed. He pulls back as if I might suddenly pounce on him; if the situation weren’t so serious, I’d probably laugh. He clears his throat. ‘Well, normal procedure after you’ve been charged would be to transport you to the larger facility in Aberdeen to await trial.’
‘But?’
‘You’ve still not been charged. The police want to keep you here for further questioning.’
The tension that’s been eating away at my stomach subsides. I’d been counting on that but it’s still a relief to have it confirmed. I am, however, living on borrowed time and I can’t afford to waste a single minute. ‘All this is incredibly stressful,’ I tell him. ‘I could do with a nap.’
‘Sergeant Rawlins is waiting to question you.’
I tilt my head slightly. ‘My brain is fuzzy. Like there’s a strange fog inside it. It’s probably those pills I took earlier.’
He stiffens. ‘Pills?’
‘Valium,’ I lie. ‘They make everything ... dreamy.’
He frowns. ‘I can make sure they won’t interrogate you until your head is clear.’
Yahtzee! ‘Maybe if I lie down for a while...?’
‘That might be a good idea after all. I’ll see what I can do.’
***
I’m aware that I’m playing with fire. Even with my faked drugged state, Rawlins won’t remain patient for long. I feel as if I’m balancing on a tightrope: one wrong move in either direction and I’ll end up splattered on hard concrete – possibly literally.
It doesn’t help that there’s constant noise and a harsh overhead light shining into my eyes. I flip over onto my stomach and try to regulate my breathing. Middle of the afternoon or not, I need to sleep. Whether it’s an effect of the stress of the day, or mild concussion from my mother’s earlier efforts with the frying pan, it’s surprisingly easy. In fact, the relief of waking up in the forest is almost indescribable.
Aware that I probably won’t have long before someone wakes me up, I get to work straight away, dashing through the trees to find what I need. The thick darkness makes it difficult to see but the Mayor’s predictability helps and in less than ten minutes I hear someone. I move as quietly as possible. It’s rather disappointing to recognise Kevin, who so ardently admired Ashley, bending over and setting a fresh trap. The Mayor probably sends his minions out here every day, and I imagine he’s stepped up his operations since the mares were freed.
I watch from behind a tree, hoping that it won’t be Esme who hands over the traps. Given that she tried to point me in the right direction to save the captured mares, it’s unlikely but that doesn’t mean the thought doesn’t niggle at me, however.
Rather than interrupting Kevin, I hang back until he’s finished and heading back to town before I move. As soon as I’m sure I’m alone, I grab the trap carefully, pinching its edges between my fingers. I don’t want to set it off. It’s a lot heavier than I expected and it’s a struggle to move swiftly now I’m holding it. I’m thankful that I know my way around a little better now.
I wait until I’ve passed several trees etched with my little Zs before I lay the trap back down on the ground. I don’t want to be too close to the town and I hope I’ve judged the distance correctly; I’m only going to get one shot at this. Once I’m satisfied with its position, and I’ve double-checked that it’s open and ready to snare a new victim, I stand up.
‘Lilith,’ I call softly. ‘Are you there?’ There’s no immediate response. I try again. ‘Hello? Lilith?’
I hear a rustle and the woman appears to my left. She’s licking her lips and there’s an oddly satisfied expressio
n on her face.
‘What have you been doing?’ I ask suspiciously.
‘Lunch.’ Her red lips curve into a spine-chilling smile.
I repress a shudder. ‘I need some help.’
‘Little dreamweaver,’ she coos. ‘What can I possibly do to help you?’
I outline my plan. Once I’m finished, she wavers from side to side as if she’s performing some kind of strange dance. ‘Why should I do this?’
I grit my teeth. ‘You’re the one who told me that I was needed.’
Her eyes glint in the weak light. ‘Have you attained control?’
‘Some.’
‘Oh, Zoe from the quiet lands. Will it be enough?’
It had better be. ‘Yes,’ I say firmly.
Lilith regards me seriously for a moment, then reaches out with one long finger. She touches my arm, drawing it down across my skin. ‘I can feel it,’ she whispers. ‘I can feel the power.’ She pulls back. ‘I will do this.’
I swallow. ‘Thank you. It won’t be until later. Twelve hours or so from now.’
Lilith frowns. ‘Hours?’
It occurs to me that she has no concept of time. I don’t suppose it’s necessary here. ‘Just stay around this spot until I give the signal.’
Her head sways. ‘I can do this,’ she says dreamily.
I smile grimly. Phase one complete.
***
I’m almost at the edge of the forest and about to head into town again when I hear a cough. I freeze, worried that it might be Kevin back for another round of trap-setting. Instead, however, it’s the cowboy I saw on my very first night here, the one who’s friends with Dante. If Dante has any friends, that is.
‘Hi,’ I say warily.
He gives me an easy grin and tips his hat in my direction. ‘Hello there.’
‘You’re Rob, right?’ I say, suddenly remembering his name.
‘And you’re Zoe.’ He eyes sweep over me. ‘I can see why he likes you.’
I stiffen slightly. ‘I’m a dreamweaver. It’s pretty clear why.’
His grin widens. ‘If you say so.’
‘Is the man in question around?’ I ask casually.