by Lulu Taylor
‘Thank you,’ I say humbly. ‘Thank you for what you’ve done.’
‘You’re welcome,’ says Sissy. ‘You’d better get to that boy of yours. Off you go now. Help is coming.’
Ady. I have to get to him, if there’s still time.
I run out of the cottage and down the path, thinking of the car. I’ll get the keys and go right now. I’m still shaky but I should be able to drive. I have to get back as fast as I can. If I were too late, I could never forgive myself.
Something else I couldn’t forgive.
I run around the side of the house and come out at the front. A large van is there and several of the house members are unloading supplies.
More stuff to fend off the end of the world. And in all the big happenings and the visions of disaster, the less dramatic pains and losses and broken hearts that make up a life get forgotten. That girl, Kaia, crying because she loves someone who can’t love her back.
I dash through the front door, flying past the people inside to my room, where I pick up my bag, scrabbling for the car key in the bottom. I pack as quickly as I can, stuffing things in without folding them. I’m more careful with Heather’s things, restoring the little suitcase to neatness, her washbag and puffin on the top. When I’ve finished, I look around at the empty room, with all traces of Heather and me removed. It’s strange to think that I haven’t left this place since the night I arrived what seems like a lifetime ago. Then, it was silent and deserted. Now, it’s full of activity and filled with inhabitants. I don’t belong here now, and no matter how seductive Archer’s message of safety and protection might be, I have to face the challenges that lie ahead of me.
I gather up the bags and race outside to the car, which looks sadly neglected, a film of gravel dust all over it. Once I’ve put the bags in the boot and I’m in the driver’s seat, I turn the ignition and the engine comes to life. My hands are trembling and I know that I need to calm down if I’m going to make the drive back safely. I start to reverse so that I can turn round to face the entrance, then manoeuvre so that I’m ready to leave this strange and seductive place.
Is Heather going to stay here? I wonder. Sissy’s words echo around my head. I find some comfort in the idea that if she is here, there are people to look after her. It was my dread of surrendering her to the darkness and isolation of death that made me cling to her so tightly. I feel that I can, just a little, let her go. But she’ll always be with me. I have to remember that.
Besides, I have a son who needs me. I remember Heather talking to me about Madam, not letting me forget her brother, telling me outright that he was alive. She wanted me to go to him, that’s what Sissy said. I hope I’m making her happy by leaving.
Her words float back into my mind: Madam says help is coming.
Maybe help was here all along.
I change into first gear and go to press my foot on the accelerator. Just then, a car roars into the driveway through the wrought-iron gates, sending up a spray of stones. My insides spin as I recognise it.
It’s Rory’s car.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
My dearest Letty,
It is the hardest thing in the world to accept that, after all this tragedy, we are not to have what is rightfully ours returned to us. It is evident that Arabella was not in her right mind when she died, and hadn’t been for years. Her will leaving everything to the community led by that imposter is surely invalid. Edward and I intend to challenge it through the courts. We will not rest until that frightful man has been sent packing, and the house is ours again.
In many ways, I believe it is what Arabella wanted. Surely she intended for her son to have his inheritance. Though I suppose his illegitimate status and unfortunate parentage would have made this difficult. Perhaps that is why she appointed you and Arthur his guardian.
The coroner’s court was a miserable place to be, particularly as so few of the people who had benefited from her largesse could be bothered to attend. There was a maid, who testified as to Arabella’s extreme depth of depression and her morbid spirits. She said Arabella was afraid she might hurt the child and refused to be left alone with it. It’s hardly surprising she felt desperate, with all the madness and preaching of doom and destruction around her. No doubt she needed the love and support of a normal family and that was sadly lacking. That monster of selfishness would have thought only of himself. Indeed, we’ve heard that he has already married again. Our only comfort is that he is a laughing stock thanks to Arthur’s articles. Let us hope that no one else is fooled as Arabella was. The verdict of suicide while of unsound mind was what we expected. I shudder whenever I think of her walking into the lake like that, knowing she would never come back. She must have been suffering very much. Let us hope she is at peace.
How are you getting on with the baby? He did seem a sweet little thing, such a pet. We will try to be generous and forget his father, and think of him only as yours. I’m glad you are giving him your surname and raising him as your own child. With you and Arthur he will have the very best of starts. Any inheritance from the rogue will, I’m sure, be entirely eradicated by your benign influence and we will see an end to any more of this unfortunate eccentricity.
We have seen the photographs of your wedding, which arrived just last week. How beautiful and radiant you looked, and Arthur so happy. You will make a success of your life together, I’m certain.
Things continue well here. I’m uncomfortable with the baby and now await the arrival with much anticipation if only to be free of the burden. It remains cold.
With much love,
Cecily
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Caz navigates and Rory drives as fast as he dares, both eager to reach Kate as quickly as possible, but when they finally arrive, he stops the car just outside and looks anxiously at Caz.
‘Are you sure?’ he asks. ‘This is it?’
Caz doesn’t know what they were expecting but an endless stretch of stone wall with thick rhododendron bushes obscuring the view beyond and a pair of high wrought-iron gates was not what she’d imagined. They knew Kate was in a house that needed a caretaker, and Caz had conjured up a rather municipal building, maybe in the middle of a town.
She checks the address she’s written down. ‘This is the place. I’m certain.’
Rory fires up the engine and takes the turn into the driveway, accelerating along the stretch before the house as if gripped by a strange compulsion to get there even faster. There is the house, a huge and magnificent place, with ornate brickwork, towering chimneys, gables and large bay-fronted windows. Caz stares at it, impressed and also bewildered. This is where she’s been living? It’s a mansion. In front is a van with its back doors open for unloading. And then she sees it: a dusty dark blue car, with the registration she noted down from the hire company’s emails. And Kate is sitting in the driving seat, her hands on the steering wheel. At least, it must be her. Who else can it be?
‘She’s there!’ Caz says urgently. The car has barely pulled to a halt but she’s unbelting and the door is half open before Rory has had time to clock the car. ‘Quick! We can’t let her drive off!’
She’s out like a shot, running across the gravel towards the car, terrified that Kate will rev the engine and be gone, out of the front gate before they can stop her. Caz can see it’s her now. She’s staring out of the windscreen with huge, frightened eyes, her hair a strange vivid white so intense Caz thinks at first she’s wearing a hat. She looks thinner but Caz would know her anywhere. She reaches the car and stands in front of it, flinging her arms across the bonnet, daring Kate to run her down.
‘Kate, it’s us, we’re here! Don’t leave, Kate, please! We need to talk to you.’
She stares at Caz dumbly as if unable to believe her eyes and then, just when Caz is afraid that she will try to shake her off by driving forward, she turns off the engine and gets out of the car. Her demeanour is incredibly agitated, her hands shaking. ‘Caz, you have to let me go!’ she cries out
in a high, anxious voice. ‘I’ve got to get home. I’ve got to get back to Ady before it’s too late. Don’t stand in my way, I’m warning you!’
Caz runs to her and clutches her arms. ‘It’s okay. You don’t have to rush. He’s fine, I promise. Look.’ She glances to where Rory is getting slowly out of the car, his race to find Kate suddenly slowed almost to a stop. ‘Rory’s here,’ she says softly. ‘He wants to see you.’
Kate gasps, her skin turning even paler. What’s happened to her? Caz wonders. She looks awful. And yet, without that manic intensity she had before she went, she seems, in a vital way, better, even if utterly drained. ‘Rory,’ she whispers. She closes her eyes with an expression of dread on her face.
‘He wants to help you, he always has,’ Caz says urgently. ‘Please, Kate, let him help you.’
She shakes her head. ‘No. He mustn’t help me.’
He’s walking across the gravel with slow, steady crunching footsteps, his eyes fixed on her, drinking her in. ‘Hello, Kate,’ he says, stopping a short distance from her as if wary of her reaction to him.
‘Rory,’ she says faintly. ‘How did you find me?’
‘Caz managed to trace you.’
She looks at Caz with a hint of reproach but says nothing.
‘We’ve missed you,’ he says. ‘We want you to come home to us. I’ve been so worried.’
She drops her eyes and stares at the gravel. Caz can see that whatever is wrong is not yet fixed. Something has changed but not everything.
‘Kate wants to get back to Ady,’ Caz explains, anxious that Rory understands this breakthrough. ‘Isn’t that great?’
Rory’s eyes fill at once with tears. He manages a smile. ‘Oh, yes. That’s fantastic news. That’s amazing. He really wants to see you, Kate. He’s missed you. Come back with us and we’ll see him together just as he wants.’
She carries on staring, standing incredibly still. ‘No,’ she says at last, in a small voice. ‘I’ll go. But I’ll go alone. I’ll stay for as long as Ady needs me. Then . . . I don’t know. Perhaps I’ll come back here.’
‘He’ll need you for years and years,’ Rory says. ‘And I need you too.’
She looks so anguished, Caz wants to weep for her. ‘No . . . I’m no good, Rory. We need to be apart.’
‘But why?’ he asks. He takes another step towards her. ‘I know I failed you and I know I should have been honest with you. I beat myself up for it every day, because if I hadn’t, maybe things would have been different. I am so truly, deeply sorry. I’ll never, ever lie to you again, I promise. But I love you, I always have. You’re my wife and Ady’s mother, and Heather’s mother.’ His voice trembles on their daughter’s name. ‘And you and I are the only people in the world who are their parents. Don’t let what happened destroy everything, Kate, please . . .’
‘You don’t understand!’ Kate says wretchedly. ‘You don’t know the truth.’
‘I know you’ve been through hell, because I have too. And I know that it’s taken you to a dark place where you couldn’t deal with Ady’s state. I understand it, and I’m not angry.’ He spreads out his hands. ‘I just want us to be together.’
Caz thinks she should walk discreetly away. This conversation is too private and personal for her to listen to. But just then, a loud voice rings out.
‘Rachel, are these people bothering you?’
Caz turns to see a young man coming down the steps in front of the grand front door. He’s wearing jeans and a zip-up hooded top in soft navy blue brushed cotton and trainers, and he has flowing locks and a beard, looking like a handsome biblical prophet. Behind him are more good-looking young people: a woman with short blonde hair and blazing blue eyes, a Sloaney type with a ski tan and glossy caramel highlights, and three or four others, including a well-built bloke in a vest. They have defiant and hostile looks in their eyes.
Kate watches them approach, a faint stain of red appearing on her cheeks.
‘Well?’ calls the leader, frowning. He’s got the kind of blue eyes it’s hard to ignore, the kind that seem to look into your soul. ‘Are they annoying you? We can get rid of them if you want.’
‘No, no . . .’ Kate stammers out a reply, looking awkward. ‘They’re not exactly bothering me.’
Caz looks at Rory, who is watching the new arrivals with suspicion. ‘If you must know, this is my wife.’
‘Oh really?’ The young man grins, and gives Kate an amused glance that seems to contain some private message. ‘Rachel’s partner? You’re a lucky guy.’
‘Why are you calling her Rachel?’ demands Rory. He evidently has not taken to this man’s cocksure attitude.
‘Rachel Capshaw?’ Caz asks suddenly.
‘Yes,’ the young man says. ‘Rachel Capshaw. She’s a member of our community, aren’t you, Rachel?’
To Caz’s astonishment, Kate nods and says, ‘Yes. That’s right. Archer’s doing some important work here, about climate change and energy shortages and . . .’ – she seems to falter a little –‘. . . and war. And stuff like that.’
‘Are you some kind of research institute?’ Rory asks, frowning.
The man seems amused and turns to look at his followers, one eyebrow raised. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ he drawls, and Caz notices how very posh his voice is. ‘We’re an institute. And we’re carrying out a lot of important research in utopias and ideal human behaviours. If you’re lucky, we might let you stay and join in.’
Kate says suddenly, ‘I have to go, Archer. My boy needs me. I just found out.’
‘You want to go?’ Archer looks dubious. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoody as he thinks. ‘Well, we’ll have to see about that. I don’t usually allow new recruits to leave until their initiation is complete.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Rory demands. Caz can see his irritation levels rising. ‘My wife can go wherever she wants to go.’
‘You should stop calling her that,’ says the ski-tan girl. ‘It’s offensive.’
The bloke in the vest says, ‘We don’t allow terms like “my wife”. No one owns anyone here. We all share each other equally.’
‘That’s right,’ Archer says. ‘It’s all about sharing. And once you’re in, you’re in. And when you’re out . . .’
Caz puts out a hand towards Rory, who has flushed red. ‘Stay calm, it’s not worth getting upset about.’
He doesn’t appear to hear her, but turns his back on Archer and the gang listening to his every word. ‘Come on, Kate,’ he says. ‘Let’s get in the car and get on our way. You want to see Ady, don’t you?’
She looks over at him. ‘Yes. But I must go alone. You can’t get used to us being together, because it won’t last.’
Caz gasps a little at the sharpness in her words, and glances at Rory. He looks deeply hurt.
‘She belongs here now,’ says Archer. ‘She’s one of us.’ He reaches out and grabs Kate by the hand. ‘I’ll take you to the hospital, Rachel, and bring you back afterwards. I can take you every day if you like.’
‘Oh, shut the hell up!’ cries Rory, unable to stand him anymore. ‘What business is it of yours, anyhow? You’re nothing to do with us. Nothing.’
‘I think you’ll find I am. Rachel has listened and accepted and joined with us in body and spirit. This is where she belongs.’ He turns back to Kate. ‘Your boy can come and live here with us when he’s better. He’ll be safe here.’ He gives her a warning look. ‘You know what’s coming.’
Kate looks agonised, confused. She says in a small voice, ‘He’ll be safe here?’
‘He’ll be saved,’ Archer says in a tone of utmost confidence.
‘Bring him to us,’ says the girl, with a happy smile, holding out a hand to Kate.
‘This is rubbish!’ shouts Rory, his face reddening with anger. ‘Don’t listen to him, Kate. Just come home with me, right now.’
Caz sees the expression on Kate’s face and knows at once that she is close to her limit. She says, ‘Can everyone stop o
rdering Kate around? The important thing is that she gets to Ady right now!’
‘Well,’ Archer says, staring at her. ‘What is it to be, Rachel? In or out? You’re free to leave, but once you go, you’re on the outside, with all the other poor fools who didn’t heed the call.’
She looks at him, her eyes full of sadness. ‘It sounds so good. Like paradise. But you can’t make any promises that really mean anything. You can’t get rid of pain, and sickness, and sadness and death.’
‘You’ve been happy here,’ he says indignantly.
‘You gave me lots of attention. You gave me drugs to keep me calm and soothed. You told me that everyone is happy here. But what about Kaia, crying because she loves you? What about the sadness you never let me feel? You never let me grieve. You never even talked to me about Heather. Only Sissy and Matty did that. Your paradise isn’t real, because it can’t be. You can’t save anyone, not in the way you want.’
Archer’s face is hardening, the expressions of his followers becoming more wide-eyed and appalled as Kate talks.
‘I’m sorry you think this way, Rachel,’ he says. ‘I thought I saw promise in you. I guess I was wrong. You’re just like all the other idiots in the world. Good luck to you. You’ll be begging me to take you in one day soon, and I’ll take pleasure in watching you grovel and die with your boy in the street while we’re safe in here.’
Caz is appalled, anger racing up inside her. She shouts, ‘How dare you talk to her like that? I’ll have the bloody newspapers here tomorrow, to show you up as the doomsday bloody mongering shit you are! Can’t you see she’s in pieces?’
Rory yells, ‘You’ve got no control over her, she’s free to do what she likes! Stop brainwashing her, you bastard!’ He looks like he’s going to hit Archer. The bloke in the vest takes a step forward, his expression menacing and his fists clenched.
‘Will you all leave me alone?’ screams Kate. ‘All of you! I need to see Ady!’ She screws her eyes shut as if she’s about to burst into tears.