by H M Sealey
The waiter brought the food and for a moment everyone focused on the plates in front of them rather than on any problems. Missy was hungry, she felt drained, these last few days had been the most exhausting of her life.
“Since Sylvester is Zeb’s father, I thought I might go and see him.” She said, chewing a perfectly cooked potato. Actual, proper-tasting food, not reconstituted rubbish, was a rare delicacy. “It’s got to be possible to track down a Zeb Jourdete. If he’s legitimate he probably even advertises.”
Dai transferred his attention back to his sister. The food was good and he had eaten very little in the last forty-eight hours. He was reluctant to spend his small funds on sustenance.
“Missy, you’re a runaway slave. How safe would it be for you to go anywhere near this Trader? We’re in the Border, that means you might still legally belong to him.”
Missy had already thought about this. She remembered the house in which she had been held while property of Zeb Jourdete. Even thinking about it caused her stomach to clench and her hands to tremble.
“I could wear the niqab again.” She suggested. “There are plenty of Muslim women around here.”
Alaia nodded. “I noticed. What if I pretended I was interested in buying a slave?” She offered. “Maybe we could find this man you need to talk to?”
The two girls talked in quick, low voices, planning an escapade that frightened Dai. What would stop this Zeb person taking both women as slaves? There was no law here, no police to call on if they were attacked or robbed. And Missy? There was no familiar gleam of excitement in her eyes at the challenge ahead, they remained guarded. That meant she was frightened and Missy never admitted to fear.
“I’m coming too.” He said, making the decision with no doubt at all. “The three of us ought to be able to protect each-other. And if this man is dangerous to you Missy, then I want to help.” He met his sister’s flat, dark gaze and he suddenly found himself in awe of this woman. “Missy, why did you never tell me what you were doing?”
“You mean Family Matters?”
“Of course I mean Family Matters. I would have helped you.”
She shrugged. “Mum and Dad didn’t want you to know.”
That shocked him. “What? Why not?”
“Oh come on Dai. You were the clever one. You were off to Uni. I was never going to go to Uni. Dad wanted you shielded from any sort of concerns so you could focus on your exams.”
“What….what happened to them? The night of the car accident.”
“They were shot.” Missy told him simply. “Shot trying to get a family of Christians over the Border. Border police on this side shoot first and ask questions later.”
“And you didn’t tell me that either?”
“I decided to honour mum and dad’s wishes and keep you out of it. The only son and all that. I mean, mum and dad may never even have visited Japan, but they still had a sense of honour that was totally out of place in Old Britain.” She paused. “And they attached special significance to you, their son.”
“They loved us equally Missy.”
“Yes. I know that. But they had different aspirations for us. You were our cover. The high-flying son bringing honour to the whole family. Your name had to be beyond reproach.”
“And in the meantime, you’ve been risking your life to help people. Missy, have you any idea how much I wanted to do something, anything to fight our demented government? I would have joined you in a heartbeat.”
Missy stared back into his eyes. Such kind eyes. “Dai, you worked in the belly of the beast, teaching children twisted values. You put your career above your principles every time. How could I trust you?”
Her words hurt him more than he thought possible. “I’m sorry. But one of us needed to earn money.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter. But it wasn’t up to me anyway. The fewer people involved the better.” She looked away, staring at the tablecloth. “They got Howie.”
“Howie’s involved!”
“Howie was involved, yes.”
“Was?”
Tears rolled down Missy’s cheeks.
“They caught him. Took him to a Rainbow Centre. But I know Howie. He always promised that if he was ever discovered, he’d…...he’d kill himself. He was terrified that he wasn’t strong enough not to give all our names. I believe him. I think he’s dead now.”
“Missy, I’m sorry.”
“Why? You never liked him.” She gave a strange little giggle. “I’m not even sure I liked him. He was just….convenient. It’s not like I could ever have married someone who didn’t know about Family Matters.”
She rubbed her face and sniffed. “I couldn’t have been in love with him, I’ve barely thought about him since the Wolves came. Or maybe I’m just selfish.”
Dai slid a warm, familiarly comforting arms around her shoulders.
“You’re really, really not selfish Missy.”
For a while they sat in silence, finishing their food and trying to escape the dark places in all their heads. After a while Dai got to his feet and crossed the restaurant to the bar. A few moments later he returned carrying a tablet.
“I thought I saw them hiring these out.” He said. “Like they used to do with newspapers in cafés.” He logged on with the password the man at the bar had given him and typed in Zeb Jourdete. He had barely tapped the J when Jeb’s name and business appeared as the first suggestion.
Dai read out the details. “Zeb Jourdete. The most trusted name when purchasing domestic, factory or erotic workers. Jourdete House, Coventry. There’s a map here too, hang on, I’ll zoom out, see how far it is.”
“Workers. That makes it sound so casual. So innocent.” Missy screwed up her nose in disgust.
Dai looked up from the tablet. “It’s only six miles away. We can walk that in a couple of hours.”
Missy finished her drink and ran a hand through her hair. She thought for a moment about Elsie, then pushed the concern away. Baraq would take care of Elsie, Elsie would never look at her the same way again anyway. She was sorry to have lost that friendship, it had endured for so many years.
“You know, even if Sylvester Jourdete turns out to be safe and you two build a life here and I go home, nothing’s going to change. The whole country is a mess. How did it happen? How did it become so divided? So broken? Before the referendum this country was united. Now look at it.” For a moment Missy was angry. “Why couldn’t the Muslims be happy? Why did they want to break up the country? Why couldn’t everyone have lived together?”
Alaia, sensing slight hostility, did not apologise.
“We didn’t want the referendum.” She said.
“Of course you did. I’ve read the history books. Your people called for Shariah law.”
“But it wasn’t us!” Alaia almost cried. “I’ve read history too. I’ve read the breakdowns of who voted in that damn referendum. Do you know, only eighteen percent of British Muslims wanted to divide the country. Eighteen percent!”
Missy gazed at her new friend is surprise. “But the referendum? Sixty-three percent favoured building the BSI.”
“But not us!” Missy leaned forward. That wasn’t us. It was all those condescending NuTru voters who thought they were supporting what the Muslim population wanted without even talking to us. It was college students, liberals. Celebrities. They all wore hijabs for photoshots and talked about how the white race had stolen everybody’s land. It was idiots who thought they knew best. Feminists backed it for heaven’s sake. Feminists backed a regime that doesn’t allow women out of doors without a man because they were so ill-informed they thought they were saving our culture. No, if you want to thank someone for breaking this country, it was the placard-waving, well-meaning fools who took offence at everything they didn’t agree with and who thought the best way to progress as a country was to tear down the hard work of the generations that went before us!”
Missy and Dai both stared at Alaia, mouths slightly open.
&n
bsp; “Elsie teaches history.” Dai told her. “And the curriculum doesn’t say any of that.”
“Why would it? Isn’t history written by the victors?”
Dai nodded, more impressed with this girl that ever, and maybe very slightly intimidated.
“I never dared question anything in public.” He told her. “I would have lost my job. I saw a friend of mine sacked for refusing to teaching a more balanced view of the British Empire and for informing his students about the Arab Slave Trade instead of just the Trans-Atlantic one. You’re right Alaia, there seems to be an overall agenda to destroy what’s left of European culture.”
Dai sat back, feeling the weight of a new way of thinking land heavily on his back. “But it doesn’t make sense. There is no Europe any more, just the ESI. England has been wiped from history and Old Britain is self-destructing.” He looked around the table. “Why? What’s the point? Is there a deliberate agenda? And if there is, who’s in charge of it?”
Missy covered her face in her hands. “Here we go with the conspiracy theories. You always loved conspiracy theories.”
Dai looked stung. “I just learned not to accept the word of the authorities.”
Alaia considered all this carefully, she was an extremely intelligent young woman, far more intelligent than even she realised.
“I don’t think there’s anything deliberate going on.” She said. “I think it’s no more than the legacy of selfish, proud, self-obsessed people who forgot their place as part of creation and made themselves the centre of the universe.”
And Dai and Missy had no response to that at all.
~
~ Twenty-Six~
Asim
The van drew up about a mile from the Border crossing and a dark haired man going grey, with an irritable gaze and a scruffy beard leaned out of the window.
“You Asim?”
“Yes Sayyid.”
“I’m Zeb. Hop in the back. I’ve been sent to pick you up.”
Asim placed his hand on the door handle. “I don’t have a Border pass.” He explained.
The man gave a disinterested shrug. “No, most of the kids I pick up don’t. It’s okay. I’m a certified Trader. I have a Trader’s pass. Covers me and any merchandise I might carry.”
Asim, not quite sure what he meant by that, climbed up into the van anyway.
~
Josh
River gently places her hand over mine.
“Let her go Josh.”
I do, releasing Summerday in shock. She collapses onto the floor, a pile of flesh and purple fabric, gasping.
River is here, standing beside me. Am I dreaming or am I dead?
“River?”
“I’m sorry Josh.” She reaches over my body and releases my ankles. “I just needed to push you, just a bit more.”
“Push me?”
Summerday rubs her neck where my fingers have left clear bruises. She pulls herself up using the table.
“So,” Her voice sounds croaky. “Are we sure now?”
“Sure?” I repeat her words like a child learning to talk. I have no idea what’s going on. Have I fallen through a rabbit hole to Wonderland?
“Josh,” River slips the white coat from her shoulders to reveal the same, featureless uniform worn by all the inmates at the Rainbow Centre. Hers is red, as is mine now. That’s a sign to everyone else to keep away from us.
“Kat Summerday is my friend.” She tells me. “She’s been trafficking people through the Rainbow centre for years. It might seem odd, but this Rainbow Centre is actually a safehouse for Family Matters.”
Kat actually smiles at me. “Did you guess?” She asks.
I think back to her ranting in Diana’s Lamont’s house.
“No.”
“Good.” Kat says. “I’ve got used to sounding like a mad feminist. I’m only sorry I have to preach everything that’s the antithesis of what I believe.”
“Mr. Scott didn’t believe in the Rainbow Centres either.” I remind her, remembering the broken man getting drunk in the pub.
Kat shakes her head, some of her hair has fallen out of her clip and she pushes it back. “I wonder.” She says. “I think Scott was beginning to suspect me. I rather think his little show of defiance was designed to try and draw me out. That’s why I had to be ruthless.” She looks at me hard and her eyes are full of cold fire.
“I can’t afford to slip up Josh. I can only trust people when I’m absolutely certain of their loyalty.”
“I don’t understand.”
River hops up onto the high stool and sits there, legs swinging.
“You do understand Josh, please don’t make me explain it to you as if you were a moron.”
Summerday staggers across the room to the tap. She pours a small measure of water into a glass and swallows it. “My word you’ve got quite a grip on you Josh. I really thought you were going to kill me.”
“I think I was.” I say.
“Good. River thought you lacked passion. She was worried your only concern was for your own skin.”
“It was.”
“And now?”
“Not now.”
I don’t know how I feel about these revelations, I’m not a hundred percent sure I even believe her.
“You had Howard Steele tortured.” I remind her, remembering the blood on his face. “He was on your side.”
“Howard Steele had no idea who I am. We have to keep it that way. The less information we have about each other the better, it means no one member can do too much damage.” She pauses. “Personally I was amazed he was ever recruited. He agreed to sell you out after minimal persuasion.”
“He didn’t sell us out. If he intended to do that he’d have stayed with us.”
“He could have been trying to trick me, yes. I thought about that. Unfortunately, I couldn’t risk that he wasn’t truly a turncoat. And Gene Balewa wouldn’t take the chance either. That was why I had to order his death.”
I slide off the chair and stare at this woman.
“You had Howard killed?” I can barely believe she said that.
“A single risk could destroy everything we’ve built Josh. You have to understand that. It may be that Howard Steele was attempting some clever plan, but it may equally be that he was genuinely willing to give away everything he knew to save his life. Gene didn’t want to take his life. I know he struggles with the necessity of protecting the network.” She looks at me without shame. “He made it look like suicide.”
“I don’t believe Howard wanted to betray anyone.”
“I doubt he did, but I couldn’t take that risk. Eventually he would have been taken out of my hands. My brother was sniffing around and I don’t want him getting an ounce of information about Family Matters.”
“That wasn’t worth a man’s death.”
Summerday pulls out a plastic chair and drops down onto it, taking a piece of tissue from a roll and dabbing her forehead.
“He gave us information about your grandmother.”
For a moment I assume I’ve misheard that. Summerday picks up a tablet and scrolls through the information.
“Barbara Kessler, known as Bibi.” She glances at me. “Howard gave her name right at the beginning.
I think I gape at Summerday for at least ten seconds before I speak. “Well, is she safe? Where is she?”
“Dead. She took AS drugs. Pissed my brother off spectacularly, I can tell you.”
I feel dizzy and nauseated. As if I’m falling down a deep, dark hole and the light is disappearing.
“My grandmother?”
“Paternal. She raised your sister, Rachael – although her name was changed to Elsie. I tried to send her a message once, through her mother, but I suspect it never reached her.”
“My mother?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“This is ridiculous. You just expect me to accept all this?”
“Yes.” Summerday says and places the tablet down on the table. �
�Welcome aboard Josh.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to join you.”
Summerday laughs. “Well, you know too much now to go back to your old life. But tell me Josh, is that the life you want? Spending the rest of your days rotting in a Rainbow Centre?”
“Can you offer something better?”
“Keep up Josh, I am offering something better. You’ll have to stay here officially of course, but our inmates-for-life are often shunted away to a number of psychiatric institutions for varying periods of time.” She meets my eyes again. “You’ll have to break of course. The likes of Doctor Tarporley must see you break. That’s important.”
I don’t like that idea. “You mean pretend to break?”
“Something like that. You’ll have to submit to whatever it is he wants to do to you like a meek little soul.” She turns her gaze on River. “You too River.”
River groans. “You know what he wants to do to me.”
“And you have to convince him he has the power. It’s important River. If you can’t do that, you’re no good to us.”
Summerday stands and regards us both. “One day we’re going to win.” She promises. “Destroy the family, you destroy society. The Soviets found that out decades ago. We’re going to carry on fighting to keep families together. It’s what this network was founded for. One day those children who’ve been raised in strong families without official indoctrination will be the ones to stand up to NuTru.”
“So, what do I do now?” I ask.
“You have a reprieve concerning the facial marking.” She says. “Because you fell to the floor and sobbed and begged to be given another chance.” He voice hardens. “Didn’t you Josh?”
That sticks in my throat. “I suppose I did, yes.”
“So you’ll settle back to life here. When I need you for something, I’ll inform you. You make no attempt to contact me at all. Understand.”