by H M Sealey
“What?”
“Please don’t get upset. It’s simply not safe. Summerday very nearly has everything he needs to order a lot of arrests. Your grandmother included.”
I half turn and stare at him.
“What?”
Mr. Jourdete laughs a little, although it isn’t a very happy laugh. “I really am sorry. But I heard about Adelaide Blackwood’s arrest, Kit Summerday’s manner of questioning verges on the unethical when he wants something. But it’s extremely effective.”
I don’t like this conversation, I want to go home.
“What….what about Gran?”
“She was named. Not by Adelaide, she didn’t know anything. By Howard Steele I assume, though they’re being awkward finding me the reports. Unfortunately, I don’t have a cat wearing a microphone on his collar anywhere but my own station.”
Now I’m massively confused. “Officer Tom?”
“One day Christopher Summerday is going to look more closely at that animal. He’s paranoid about security but even he would never suspect a cat. I’m old my dear, my position is largely an annoyance to the younger officers. Officer Tom is my way of keeping tabs on those I don’t trust.” He turns a corner and the whole car swings to one side. “And I don’t trust Christopher Summerday.”
“Please, I just want to go back to Gran.”
Mr. Jourdete’s sapphire-blue eyes sweep over me gently, like morning mist. “Your grandmother is an amazing lady.” He tells me with deep kindness. “This morning she asked that I spirit you away for your own safety. Of course, I didn’t know where you’d gone, but then I heard you speaking to Kit courtesy of Officer Tom. Consider yourself spirited.”
“Hang on.” A cold, dry feeling rises in my chest. “I want to go home. I want to see Gran.”
“Not a good idea Elsie. She may even have been arrested by now.” He tuts. “You turning in your friend Daichi was enough to give you a reprieve.”
“I didn’t turn him in! I’m trying to help him!”
Mr. Jourdete offers me a sympathetic look. The sort of look I give my students when they tell me World War Two started in 1990.
“Take me home!” I demand.
“I promised your grandmother I’d keep you safe, and I will. Christopher Summerday is not a man you want to tangle with Elsie, he really isn’t.”
“But what about Gran?”
“Your grandmother is a very courageous woman Elsie, very courageous. You should be proud of her. She’s been saving lives and families for a long time.” He shakes his head. “If Howard Steele hadn’t got himself drunk and started shouting none of this would have happened. But people are human I’m afraid. They slip up and make mistakes.”
“Look, whatever this is, I don’t want to be a part of it. I just want to go home.”
I grab the handle of the door and rattle it. “Let me out of this car, now!”
“Elsie!”
Mr. Jourdete grabs my wrist.
“Have you any idea how dangerous it is to throw yourself from a moving car? They don’t even put seatbelts in these newer models.”
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe. I promise.”
“What about my job?”
“Elsie, by tomorrow you won’t have a job. Don’t you understand that? Your grandmother has been actively fighting the government of this country. Summerday will know this very, very soon. As her granddaughter you’ll be implicated. Even if you’re not arrested you’ll be stained with her crimes. You know how it works. Husbands, parents, children. Nobody takes the chance that the ideology hasn’t been passed on.”
He’s serious. I know he is. I’ve attended enough lectures myself on the evils of wrong thinking.
I let my arm move away from the handle.
“Why? Why would Gran risk everything?”
“Because she believes in freedom. Even the freedom to hold ideas that might be seen as unpleasant. In America they’re called the Freespeakers and they’ve started to break the stranglehold that the New Truth doctrine has over the people. Unfortunately, we don’t have a constitution protecting free speech here, and there aren’t so many people willing to challenge the government. Nobody wants to lose their livelihoods and their reputations.”
I swallow. “What – what will happen to Gran? I mean, she’s old.”
Mr. Jourdete gives me another look of such deep sympathy I feel he knows far more than he’s telling me.
“It depends.”
“Depends?”
“On how cooperative she is. And I know your Gran. She’s as tough as old boots. She won’t tell them anything. Not willingly.”
“Willingly? Will they hurt her?”
“He shakes his head.”
“How do you know that?” How does he know any of this? Through a cat? This can’t be happening, it’s madness, all of it.
“Elsie, promise me you won’t get upset.”
“I’m already upset!”
Mr. Jourdete negotiates what used to be an old roundabout but now cars just drive across it.
“Listen to me. I suggested your grandmother write you a letter explaining everything but she wouldn’t. Written information can be dangerous. Everything we do, we do by word of mouth. But she wanted to say goodbye. To hold you one last time. Elsie, she loved you so very much.”
His words make me feel suddenly cold and I shiver.
“Loved? You make it sound like I’ll never see her again.”
Mr. Jourdete focuses on the road and doesn’t answer. He doesn’t answer the way I don’t answer when a poor student asks me if I think he’ll pass his exams.
“Mr Jourdete? What’s going on?”
He sighs so heavily it feels like he has all the sorrows of the world on his shoulders.
“Elsie. Your Gran…...your Gran didn’t want to risk arrest. She’s old. She felt her life was over….”
“She’d not old! She’s healthier than loads of young people! She has years left!”
Again that sigh, that pause. In a much smaller voice I ask another question.
“She….she wouldn’t do anything stupid would she?”
“Elsie, she did the most sensible thing in the circumstances. Nobody can hurt her now.”
I hear a long, desperate squeak coming from my own mouth.
“She wouldn’t leave me!”
“She hasn’t left you. You’ll see her again. She believes that.”
“No, no, no no.” I shake my head. She wouldn’t kill herself. She wouldn’t.”
“Barbara’s psychiatrist has been suggesting Assisted Suicide for years.”
“Gran doesn’t have a psychiatrist!”
“Your Gran always had one. This was a long term plan, so that it wouldn’t look odd that she chose to take the drugs now.”
“No!” I don’t know whether I’m panicking or furious or terrified. Sickness rises up within me. Hot and cold at the same time. My head spins. “You’re wrong! Gran is just a kind old woman. She isn’t anything to do with any criminal gang. She wouldn’t leave me!”
I clutch his arm with sudden ferocity. “Take me back!”
Mr. Jourdete manages to detach himself.
“Be careful now.” He chides. “We don’t want to crash.”
“Just take me home! I want to see Gran! I want Missy and Dai! I want my job! I want my life! You have no right to take it!”
I can’t lose what I have. Occasionally I have this terrible dream where I’m alone in a dark, hot room and I don’t know where I am or where my family is. I’m sobbing and crying out for someone, but I don’t know who. Gran I suppose. But I’m screaming and kicking my feet against the floor and nobody comes to comfort me. Nobody cares.
But I feel like that now. Alone and scared.
The world beyond the window slides past, yellow fields and old road signs that are peeling or buckled.
I grab the door handle again, and with one great shove, push it open.
“Elsie!”
; I don’t think I had any idea we were going so fast. The road rushes past in a blur of grey beneath us and the wind tears the door from my fingers. I lurch forwards, pulled by the force of the air. Mercifully, I don’t remember anything else after that.
~
Josh
The van comes to a halt and dead silence spreads over my world. My body hurts. I’m hot and thirsty, my legs are almost numb and I’m desperate to stretch. My lungs hurt from the hot, chemical scented air.
Slowly, carefully, I push my back against the crate stacked on top of mine and shove it aside without letting it fall. The van is deserted but pitch black. I have no idea how far we travelled from the Rainbow Centre, but it won’t be too far, petrol is hugely expensive. No delivery company delivers too far afield.
I drag myself from the crate and fumble with the van door. This is where the plan either falls apart of succeeds. I need to do this before River sees me; if there are people around I have to give them Director Summerday’s personal number so they can verify I’m not an escapee.
Murky light floods the van interior and I blink like a newborn mouse. A blast of cooler air hits my sweat-beaded skin and I breathe it into my aching lungs.
There’s nobody here. The van is parked in a side-road at the back of a large, red brick building. There’s a big, wide-open door and I crane my neck and see that it seems to be a warehouse. Taking another deep breath, I locate River’s crate and push the others aside. She stares up at me from inside, red-faced by grinning.
“Did we make it?”
I nod. “We’re out.”
“Thank God for that.” I’m not certain God should be thanked just yet, but I give her my hand and I pull her out. Together we help Howard to stagger out onto the road. Freedom. I haven’t set foot outside the Rainbow Centre since my first escape.
“We look ridiculous.” River glances down at our loose clothing covered with white overalls.
I shrug. “We just look like we’re going to work or something.”
“I suppose. Let’s go and find out where we are.”
We emerge into the main street and gaze around. Two rows of buildings stretch away on both sides divided by a road that’s in more of a state of disrepair than I remember roads being. The tarmac is cracked and potholed, the white and yellow lines have faded and, here and there, weeds peep through the surface.
We begin to walk. Most of the shops are boarded up, but two or three are squats I think, judging by the graffiti outside. Most towns have refugees from Europe and not everyone’s content to wait in a camp for years while their details are processed. The old EU flag from decades ago is daubed on doors and walls. It’s not aggressive exactly, more like a cry for help. However much of a basket-case Britain has become, Europe is in a far worse state.
There are several shops though, and the obligatory American store selling cheap food from the USA. I wish we had some money; I’m hungry and thirsty, we all missed breakfast.
“There.” River clutches my hand. Beside the rubble that was once a church there’s a bench and a big sign that reads Welcome to Coleshill and a map. We dart across the road and I dimly remember my mother telling me to look both ways, but I don’t really remember why. There are a few hardy succulents growing from the dry soil that make the old churchyard into a nice looking park. A lot of old church sites are parks now.
We study the map for a few moments and River nods to herself thoughtfully.
“We’re on the outskirts of Birmingham.” She declares, pleased. “That means it’s not far.”
“What’s not far?”
“Some people I know. Good people.” She turns to me, eyes shining. “We’ll be safe Josh.”
Howard slumps down on the bench and gently explores the bruising around his eye with his fingers
“I shouldn’t have done it.” He whispers.
“Howie?”
“I got so angry. If I hadn’t let myself get drunk I wouldn’t be here. God knows how many others I jeopardized. Our whole network.” He shakes his head. “And that poor little kid I was with.” He shakes his head and winces at the pain. “I hope she got away.”
River sits beside him. “Do you think she did?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. When I realised they were onto us I started chucking out every accusation against NuTru I could think of. That felt pretty good. Should have seen their little offended faces. I hope I distracted them long enough to give her a chance.”
“That was good then.”
“It wasn’t good. It was awful. The whole thing was awful. They should never have got so close.” He sounds so mournful. Like a dog pining for its owner. “I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what I did wrong this time. And God alone knows where Missy is now. She’s probably been sold to some disgusting old man.” He buries his head in his hands. “I should have protected her.”
“That’s why we have to keep fighting Howie. We have to keep opposing this rotten government. Because if we don’t more people will suffer.”
Howie doesn’t seem at all comforted by River’s words. “Just leave me.” He says. “I’ve fucked up.”
“I’m not leaving you Howie.” She rests a kind hand on his leg.
“I’m a pathetic coward. I’ve betrayed us all.”
“If you had Howie, I’d be the first to kill you. That’s a promise.”
I flinch at those simple words and how easily River says them.
“Maybe you should.” Howie suggests, his big, dull eyes swollen but full of tears. He rubs his arm where there’s a big, red lump. I wonder what they did to him, to cause such injuries. Surely that sort of torture can’t be legal?
“Grow up Howie, self pity’s pathetic. It’s also useless.”
River looks so certain, so strong that I feel I have to ask a question. I nod past the metal gates, into the park.
“Before we go anywhere River, I want to ask you a question.” I say, attempting to keep my voice light and inquisitive.
River looks up from Howie with a frown.
“Okay.”
We leave Howie nursing his injuries and walk up, into the gravel park beyond where the grey stone ruin of the burned out church stands in a graveyard of yellow grass and tombstones.
“River.” I begin, clutching my hands together behind my back. “Are you really Diana Lamont’s daughter?”
River folds her arms in a defensive gesture and doesn’t look at me.
“Yes.”
“But the papers said River Lamont died after a vaccine went wrong sixteen teen years ago.”
She pauses and half turns, her eyes look hurt and suspicious all at once.
“Have you been Googling me?”
There’s not point in denying this. “Yes.”
“Great. Thanks for the trust. Friend.”
“Oh come on, why should I trust you? You’re not who you say you are.”
River gives a long, miserable sigh.
“Do you remember I told you about the Assisted Suicide drugs?”
Of course I remember, it was one of the nastiest conspiracy theories I’ve come across. I’m glad it’s not true. “Yes.”
“My mother has business interests in the pharmaceutical company that manufactures the AS drugs. She has a lot of business interests.”
“I thought Diana Lamont was an avowed socialist.”
River sniggers. “She is, and like every good socialist she likes to get hold of other peoples’ money to spend. My mother has shares all over the place.” She pauses. “Including the laboratory that makes the Double H vaccine.” That was quite a controversial one.
“HIV and HPV?”
“Uh huh.”
“Well, the Double H vaccine got the patient after the first HIV vaccine, the one produced by a rival laboratory, killed Diana Lamont’s two year old daughter.”
“You?”
“Me. I wasn’t even given a bloody vaccine. I’m unvaccinated, just like all the kids of government ministers. But mum decided my dea
th would smear her business rivals – plus she got loads of public sympathy.”
I’m appalled at this, I hope it’s another lie. “But what about you?”
“What about me? I was home schooled anyway. Mum hid me away. Then she changed my name to Ash Lamont and told everyone she’d adopted me from one of the European refugee camps. But I never forgot I was River and it terrified her every time I used my real name. It’s probably one of the reasons I’ve ended up in a Rainbow Centre, so I can’t blow another of her secrets.”
I stare at River. I have no idea whether or not to believe her. I want to, I want her to be the heroine of the story I’m writing in my head. But the real world isn’t a story.
“Is that the truth?”
“Of course it’s the truth. Why wouldn’t it be?”
What can I say? I can’t say I’ve spoken to Mr. Scott and Director Summerday about her and they think she’s either an evil liar or psycho.
River gazes into my eyes for a long, unhappy moment.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“I don’t know what I believe.”
River catches my hand and holds it. “Come with me to see my friends Josh. We have so much evidence about what this government is doing to the people.”
“Evidence?”
She nods, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’m part of an….. organisation. I can’t tell you more than that, but we’re going to bring NuTru down Josh. We’re going to prove everything about this Assisted Suicide scandal. And the truth about the Rainbow Centres. We’re going to bury NuTru.”
“Everyone knows about the Rainbow Centres.”
“Nobody knows half of what goes on in those places. I mean, that’s why I had to get into one of them and find out -”
She trails off when she sees the expression in my eyes.
“I mean…..I mean...”
“What do you mean River?” There’s hostility in my voice now. “That’s four different reasons you’ve told me for you ending up in the Rainbow Centre. Which was it? Did your mother send you for reading a bible, or because you know too much, or is she was scared people would find out you weren’t dead? Or so you could see what life is like in a Rainbow Centre?” I narrow my eyes. “How much of what you’re telling me is lies?”