Blood Roots: Are the roots strong enough to save the pandemic survivors?

by Michael Green

  ‘A little sister for Claude,’ she said.

  He looked down at his daughter. She was indeed beautiful. ‘What shall we call her?’

  ‘You choose.’

  ‘Cora,’ he said, ‘after her great-grandmother.’

  Julie and Louise were allowed in for a few minutes. Each hugged Anne and gazed down at Cora, both declaring her the most beautiful baby they’d ever seen.

  Mark stayed with Anne while she, like his new daughter, fell asleep. At seven-thirty Jennifer poked her head around the door. ‘Susan says Jane won’t be long,’ she whispered. He kissed the sleeping Anne on the forehead and rushed out, intent on seeing his older daughter.

  But Jennifer had taken up sentry duty outside Jane’s room. She pointed to the door leading to the courtyard. ‘Doctor’s orders — you’re not allowed in till after the birth.’

  He was again forced to join the melee outside. Everyone was there, some munching on sandwiches in the absence of dinner. All were concerned, though trying hard not to show it.

  It was almost nine o’clock before Susan walked out and announced, ‘It’s a night for the girls. Jane has a baby daughter too.’ There was another great round of cheering. Mark looked at Rick, wondering what would happen next. Jane had never confirmed he was the father.

  Susan prevented any unpleasantness. She held up her hand. ‘Jane’s very tired. She just wants to see her father, her brother and her son for a few minutes. The rest of you can visit tomorrow.’

  Mark, Steven and Zach walked in together, all beaming. Jane looked even worse than Anne. Everyone, including Mark, agreed that the little half-caste girl was the most beautiful little girl they’d ever seen.

  ‘She’s got some of her mum’s looks,’ Steven said diplomatically.

  ‘Lucky for her,’ Zach quipped. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted to have inherited any of her grandfather’s looks, would she?’

  ‘I know she’s got my mum’s looks,’ Jane said. ‘That’s why I’m calling her Helen.’

  Mark was pleased. He kissed both his granddaughter and his daughter on the forehead. They could all see how exhausted Jane was. Mark nodded to Steven and Zach, and they all promised to be back first thing in the morning.

  ‘Have you seen Nicole?’ Jane asked as the three of them prepared to leave. They all shook their heads. ‘They keep telling me she’s all right, but I’m worried, she’s so young.’

  ‘She’s in good hands. She’s got a great doctor.’ Steven said.

  ‘And he’s well practised — he’s already delivered two babies today,’ Zach pointed out.

  Mark added. ‘And he claimed to have lots of experience with young-teen deliveries.’

  There were two sentries, standing arms folded, at Nicole’s delivery-room door — Susan and Jennifer. Mark, Steven and Zach all argued to be let in. They were all turned away.

  As the night wore on, every adult in Haver gathered in the courtyard. The youngest children had been put to bed. Older children stood quietly with their parents or sat on the collection of benches and chairs that had been assembled on the lawn. Some of the wood-fired barbecues had been dragged close to the chairs and lit to provide warmth. As the hours dragged by, the tension increased.

  At two minutes to midnight, Cheryl came to the door. She looked so exhausted in the flickering light of the barbecues that she might have given birth herself. ‘It’s a boy,’ she announced.

  Steven tapped his father on the shoulder. ‘Congratulations Dad, you’ve just become a father, a grandfather and a great-grandfather, all on the same day.’

  Mark did not respond. He was in no mood for congratulations. He was angrier than he had ever been in his life. The involuntary whoop of delight and punch in the air, accompanied by the cry of ‘I’ve got a son, I’ve got a son’, had totally devastated him.

  He didn’t wait to be invited into the delivery room; he stormed in and looked down at the crib. There was no doubt who the father was.

  Roger laid his hand gently on Mark’s shoulder and said softly, ‘I can do something about the harelip. I’m not so sure about the arm.’

  Mark did not reply or talk to Nicole; he turned and stomped out, brushing roughly past the baby’s father. He kept on walking — across Lawn Court, through the gates of the West Tower and out into Haver Park.

  46

  It was two o’clock in the morning before Mark returned to Haver House. He felt ashamed: not because he was angry, but because he had left Anne and Cora alone. Roger was asleep on the sofa in the Greys’ lounge. Mark tiptoed past and made his way to Anne’s room. She was awake. Cora was sleeping in a bassinet and Claude was in the bed beside his mother.

  He kissed the baby first, then Claude and finally Anne. ‘I’m sorry. I was just so angry.’

  ‘I’ve heard about Nicole’s baby,’ Anne said.

  Mark said nothing. He could feel the anger building up again.

  ‘And about the father …’ Anne said.

  That made him even angrier. She sensed it, and waited for a while before continuing. ‘She’s your granddaughter and he …’

  He cut her off. He didn’t want to hear the mention of the father’s name, he was too angry. ‘I know, I know.’

  ‘Talk to Jane — she’s angry too.’

  He said nothing. They sat in silence. Anne drifted off to sleep and somehow he did the same, sleeping bolt upright in his chair.

  It was Cora, crying to be fed, who woke him. Gently he lifted his daughter from the bassinet and handed her to her mother. Another baby was crying in the next room. ‘Go and see Jane,’ Anne said. He kissed her again and wandered reluctantly out of the room, not sure what he wanted to do.

  Roger had beaten him to Jane’s room and was handing Helen to her mother as Mark entered.

  ‘I know you’re angry, Dad — about my baby, about Nicole’s baby.’

  ‘You’re an adult, you made your own decision and I accept it.’

  ‘I’m angry with Nicole too, Dad, and especially with …’ Her voice petered out. She couldn’t bring herself to say his name either. ‘But I’ve forgiven Nicole and I’ll forgive him. I’ve got to. Otherwise the anger will eat me up. And if you don’t forgive them both it’ll eat you up too.’

  The words didn’t help. He kissed his daughter and his granddaughter and left. He walked through to the kitchens. He was glad no one else was up yet; he didn’t want to talk to anybody. He grabbed some food and walked back out into the park.

  It was late morning before he returned. He saw people looking in his direction as he walked through the West Gate. Jennifer congratulated him on his triple success, but he barely grunted an acknowledgement.

  He went to see Anne and Jane again and found them sitting up in chairs in their rooms. Both pleaded with him to go and see Nicole. But he couldn’t.

  He went to the bathroom and washed, shaved and cleaned himself up. He stood looking at himself in the mirror. How could it have happened? How could she have done it? How could he have done it?

  There was a knock on the door, and Ruben entered. ‘I’m the administrative committee’s runner,’ he announced proudly.

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The administrative committee’s runner. The committee is meeting in the legislative chamber.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The legislative chamber — the old ballroom.’ Mark nodded. It made sense. ‘And as runner,’ Ruben continued, ‘I’ve been sent to ask you to kindly attend.’

  ‘Have you indeed?’

  Ruben nodded solemnly. Mark was pleased with the diversion; it might take his mind off things. He followed Ruben out of the room and across Lawn Court. The stares continued.

  ‘Have you seen Nicole yet?’ Susan asked as he walked past her beneath Cromwell’s Tower.

  ‘No,’ he snapped.

  ‘Then you ought to be ashamed of yourself,’ she yelled at him.

  He could tell from the looks on the faces of others in Flag Court that they agreed with her. It didn’t matter what other
s thought, however.

  He followed Ruben up the Great Staircase to the ballroom. He noticed the boy taking an interest in the reclining nude marble statue at the foot of the stairs; her figure bore a resemblance to Nicole’s. He was angry again.

  Ruben opened the ballroom door. ‘Go through please, sir,’ he said. ‘As runner I am only allowed to enter when called.’

  Mark entered the large room. President Roger was seated at the head of a long oak table, Vice President Steven on his right-hand side and Theresa on his left. The other four members of the committee, Zach, Duncan, Kimberley and Fergus, were arranged down the length of the table. There was an empty seat at the near end.

  ‘Have a seat, Mark, please,’ Roger said. ‘You’re just in time. We’ve just finished our first meeting. And a very good and productive meeting it’s been too.’ Everyone was relaxed and smiling, which had a calming effect on Mark. ‘We’d all like to thank you,’ Roger continued, ‘myself in particular, for all the work you’ve done in the past few weeks. It made life easier for us today.’

  His thanks were echoed by the others in the room.

  ‘We know you didn’t want to stand for office, but we don’t want to lose your experience altogether.’ The words were said with sincerity. Mark knew that whatever Roger was about to offer wasn’t going to be a sop. ‘We were wondering if you’d be our policeman.’

  Mark laughed. ‘What, me, a policeman! Don’t be daft. I’m too old for a start.’

  ‘We think you’d be ideal. It was Duncan’s suggestion. Go on,’ Roger said, nodding to Duncan, ‘tell him why you nominated him for the job.’

  Mark was impressed with Roger. He’d been the right choice for President. He had the bearing to do the job, and had already gained the respect of the rest of the committee. He was calm and smooth — not in a greasy way, but in a sensible, measured way. Steven would learn a lot from him, and then one day, his son would be President.

  ‘What we need,’ Duncan explained, ‘is an old-fashioned British Bobby. Remember what it was like when we were kids — old Sergeant Crouch? Everyone respected him, nothing heavy-handed, just the odd clip behind the ear if a kid did something really naughty. Then a quiet word with their mum and dad.’

  ‘Not the sort of thing we had in the States, unfortunately,’ Roger added, ‘but it sounds like what is needed here. We want to keep it all low key — we just want someone who has everybody’s respect to gently remind people what’s right and what’s wrong.’

  Mark wasn’t convinced. ‘And what if an adult steps out of line in a serious way and has to be arrested?’

  ‘You’ll have backup when necessary, of course. We’ve already appointed a couple of special constables — Steven and Fergus,’ he added, nodding at the two men.

  ‘Mark, we’d all like you to do it,’ Duncan pressed.

  He relented. ‘Very well.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Roger said. ‘We have an assignment to be undertaken right away.’

  ‘That is?’

  ‘It’s delicate. But I think it’s important that the authority of the committee is established from the outset.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Mark agreed.

  ‘One of the laws of the new constitution is that no one, other than those sanctioned by the committee, may bear arms.’

  Mark nodded. He’d written the law himself.

  ‘When the constitution was passed yesterday, two members of the community were in possession of firearms — Jennifer and Rick. Both were ordered to hand them in by ten o’clock this morning. Jennifer has. Rick hasn’t.’

  Suddenly Mark was angry again. It would have to be Rick.

  He stood up. ‘I’ll see to it right away.’

  ‘You’ll need to be careful,’ Roger cautioned. ‘Rick’s a hothead, as we all know.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I can take care of him.’

  ‘Better take Steven and Fergus with you.’ Mark opened his mouth to protest but Roger continued to speak. ‘Apart from anything else, Rick needs to be told officially that you’re Chief of Police.’

  ‘Chief of Police? I thought I had volunteered to be a Policeman Plod.’

  ‘Better still, Vice President,’ Roger said, turning to Steven, ‘you’d better, on this occasion announce your father as the Sheriff, just to make sure that hothead knows what he’s dealing with.’

  Mark was angry. He wanted to confront Rick alone. But he also knew that given his anger and the way he felt about the man, he shouldn’t. He didn’t protest when Steven and Fergus accompanied him out of the room.

  As they walked across Flag Court, Fergus slipped behind. Mark was wary. He sensed the two younger men were colluding.

  ‘Have you spoken to Nicole, Dad?’

  That proved it!

  ‘No,’ Mark grunted. He didn’t snap in the way he had at Susan, but his anger was apparent.

  ‘Did you know she’s called the baby Mark after you?’

  That made him even angrier.

  ‘Dad, that was a great speech you made at the trial.’ Steven continued as they walked past the Punishment Room where Jasper and Greg were pedalling steadily. ‘You forgave those murderers and rapists, you talked about the need for forgiveness, and yet you can’t forgive your own granddaughter and …’

  Everyone heard it: the sound of a pistol going off in a confined space. Instinctively Mark and Steven flinched. Fergus ran up to join them. ‘It came from our quarters, I think,’ he said.

  They pressed on towards the Steed accommodation. As they arrived, Julie burst through the door and slammed it behind her. She had a swollen eye and was bleeding from the lip.

  ‘What’s happened?’ Mark asked.

  ‘It’s Rick, he’s off his head. He’s as high as a kite.’

  ‘Is he drunk?’

  ‘No — drugs.’

  ‘Drugs! Where would he get drugs in Haver?’

  ‘Julie and Rick were given Andrea’s old room, remember?’ Fergus interrupted. ‘I bet she had drugs stashed away in there. She’s bound to have had. He must have found them.’

  ‘Why did he hit you?’ Mark asked.

  ‘He hit me for not voting for him. Then he accused me of messing about with Duncan. As if I would. And anyway, what a hypocritical bastard he is! As if I didn’t know about him and …’ She hesitated. ‘Him and all the other women.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  ‘Still in our room, I think. He threatened to blow my head off. He’s also talking about killing himself. I don’t think he knows where he is or what he’s doing. I was trying to calm him down but when he fired the pistol in the air, I just had to get out of there.’

  ‘Is there anyone else in the Steed quarters?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Right, keep everyone out of Lawn Court,’ Mark said, ‘I’m going in to speak with him, see if I can calm him down.’

  ‘We’re coming with you,’ Steven said.

  ‘I’ll go by myself.’

  ‘We’re both coming with you,’ Fergus said firmly.

  They carefully pushed open the door that led into the Steeds’ quarters. A small crowd had gathered in the arch under Cromwell’s Tower and were peering cautiously across Lawn Court.

  ‘Are you there, Rick?’ Mark called as calmly as he could. There was no reply and they made their way cautiously through the building until they were outside Julie and Rick’s room on the second floor.

  They heard Rick as they approached. He was shouting obscenities, talking about whores and babies and being denied access to his own child.

  Mark tapped lightly on the door.

  ‘Go away, you whore!’ he shouted. ‘You’re not coming back in.’

  ‘It’s Mark.’

  ‘What the hell do you want?’

  ‘I’m here too,’ Steven called.

  ‘And me,’ Fergus added.

  ‘Go away or I’ll blow your frigging heads off.’

  The three men moved away from the door.

  ‘It’s not going to do you an
y good, shooting anyone,’ Mark said quietly. ‘We’re just here to collect your pistol.’

  ‘Well, you’re not getting it. I’m an American. I have the right to bear arms.’

  Mark felt himself getting angry again. He did not want to sound threatening and spoke as calmly as he could. ‘You know full well, Rick, that the new constitution forbids the bearing of arms unless sanctioned by the administrative committee.’

  ‘A constitution written by you!’

  They could hear him banging about in the room, breaking ornaments and smashing items of furniture.

  ‘And passed into law by the community at Haver.’

  ‘I didn’t vote in favour of the constitution and I don’t accept it. Get out of here.’

  ‘We’re not going till you’ve handed over your gun,’ Mark said firmly.

  ‘I’m not handing it over. It’s my right.’

  Mark looked at Steven and shook his head. ‘What we’d like you to do, Rick, is to open the door very slightly and slide the gun out. Then we’ll go away and leave you in peace.’

  ‘Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?’ Rick yelled.

  ‘I’m the elected Vice President,’ Steven explained, ‘and my father’s been appointed Sheriff.’

  ‘Appointed by who?’

  ‘The President.’

  Rick started laughing. The sound was hysterical and odd. Then suddenly he started shouting obscenities. ‘He must have screwed Julie to get her vote. She’s a whore. All women are whores. I know. I’ve screwed them all. I’ll screw them all again. Louise, Anne, Jane, that little tart …’

  Mark snapped. Before Steven and Fergus could stop him, he had pushed the door open. The pistol shot echoed off the stone walls of the Steed quarters. Moments later the pistol flew through the doorway, bouncing off the wall opposite. Fergus retrieved it as Steven rushed into the room. Rick was laughing, his eyes rolling. Then he started crying.

  He was absolutely stoned.

  Mark knew the end was near. He’d been carried to the Greys’ lounge and was lying on the sofa, covered with a blanket. He’d been shot twice before, but he knew this wound was fatal. He’d asked Roger point blank if he was dying and Roger had nodded. He then asked him how long he had and Roger had held up ten fingers.