Too much thinking. Not enough action.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘Answers.’
He grabbed Kai’s shoulder, spun him round, slamming him against the stone wall, arm across his throat once more. Tom preferred to look in their eyes when he questioned them. Easier to spot lies that way.
‘What . . . I don’t know what . . .’
‘I haven’t asked the questions yet. First one, where’s Lila?’
‘I . . . I dunno . . .’
Tom pressed his arm harder against Kai’s neck. ‘I’ll ask you again. ‘Where’s Lila?’
Kai’s face began to redden, hands clutching at Tom’s unyielding arm. ‘I . . .’
Tom kept his voice steady. Every time he had done something like this it was almost an out-of-body experience. Like someone else was doing the driving and he was just in the passenger seat. ‘Where’s Lila?’
‘I dunno . . . honest . . .’
‘Explain.’ Tom removed the pressure slightly, allowed him to breathe, to talk.
‘She . . . she was . . . she’d been . . . she’d done something wrong. Noah told you that. He put her in the punishment tent. Waitin’ to decide what we were goin’ to do with her. An’ she . . . escaped . . .’
‘What had she done wrong?’
No reply. Tom pushed harder once more.
‘What had she done wrong?’
‘I can’t . . . can’t . . .’
‘You can.’
‘They’ll . . . they’ll . . .’
‘What, kill you? Hurt you? What d’you think I’ll do to you? Now, again. What had she done wrong?’
‘She . . .’ He shook his head, screwed his eyes shut. ‘No . . . no, if Noah . . . I can’t . . .’
‘If Noah hears that you’ve told me something he’ll be mad at you? Is that it?’
Kai nodded.
‘I’ll be mad at you if you don’t.’
Kai said nothing. Couldn’t speak.
‘This is getting tedious. What had she done wrong and where is she now?’
‘I don’t know where she is now. If . . . if we knew that we’d have got her . . .’
Tom began to understand. ‘Right. So you’re looking for her as well? For this thing she did wrong?’
Kai nodded, relief on his features. It seemed like he had said the right thing, been believed and would soon be released.
Tom disabused him of that notion. ‘So what had she done wrong? You’re not walking away from this until you’ve told me.’
‘No . . . no . . .’
Despite his threats, Tom didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. Whatever hold Noah had on Kai was a strong one. He took a chance. ‘Was it something to do with that student? That missing student?’
The words hit hard. Kai’s mouth dropped open, he stopped moving.
Tom felt a frisson of excitement. Bullseye. ‘It was, wasn’t it? What had she to do with the missing student? Kyle, isn’t that his name?’
‘She . . .’ He shook his head, thought better of himself. ‘I can’t. Can’t tell you.’
Tom squeezed his neck harder. ‘You can. You will.’
Kai gasped for air. ‘No . . .’
Pushing harder. ‘What about crows? What have they got to do with it?’
Kai’s eyes looked about to pop. Like he couldn’t believe what Tom was coming out with. It terrified him, rooted him to the spot.
‘Morrigan . . .’
‘Everything all right?’
Tom and Kai both turned at the same time. At the end of the alleyway stood a middle-aged woman dressed in waterproofs and carrying a walking stick. She was staring at them both.
Tom relaxed his grip slightly. ‘Just a friendly disagreement.’
‘Doesn’t look that friendly to me.’ Steel in her voice. Completely unafraid of the two of them. She scrutinised them once more. Looked at Kai. ‘You’re one of the chaps from the campsite, aren’t you?’ Then at Tom. ‘I’ve never seen you before.’
‘He owes me money,’ said Tom. ‘Just making sure I get it back.’
She kept staring at them both.
No one moved.
She looked at Kai. ‘Is that correct?’
Tom tried to stare at Kai, make him answer the way he wanted him to.
‘No, it’s not . . .’
‘Then I shall call the police.’ She put her hand inside her pocket, brought out an ancient mobile phone.
That was the last thing Tom wanted, and Kai presumably. ‘It’s all right,’ said Tom, attempting a smile. ‘We’ll go somewhere else. Settle our differences more amicably.’
He put his arm round Kai’s shoulder, tried to move the other man away.
‘You’ll stay where you are until the police arrive,’ she told him.
Tom turned to Kai. Smiled. ‘We’ll do that, shall we? I’m sure they’d like to hear what you were about to tell me.’
Tom didn’t see the blow coming but he felt it. Kai’s knee came up swiftly between his legs. The pain, unexpected and sharp, hit him and he bent double, removing his grip from the other man. Kai didn’t follow it up, didn’t wait for anything. He ran.
‘Fuck . . .’
‘And there’s no need for that kind of language, either.’ The woman tutted, turned and walked away, muttering to herself all the while.
Tom bit his lip. Said nothing. Heard Kai’s camper van revving up and driving off.
18
Lila stared at the ceiling. She heard noise from the rest of the caravan: loud voices, music, games. She lay still, tried to pretend she was somewhere else entirely. Somewhere warm, safe. Happy.
She closed her eyes, tried to block out everything in her present. She knew that other people in a situation like hers – if there was anyone else in a situation like hers – would try to cast their minds back to a time when life was better. Lila had to go way, way back for that to happen. Almost to birth.
She could barely remember a time when she had been happy or felt safe and wanted. Her infanthood was the nearest thing to that. A time recalled only as a kind of rosy glow, nothing specific, no memories that stood out. But her big sister was there. That’s the thing she clung on to. The only good thing.
Sophie.
Lila had idolised her. She was everything Lila wasn’t, everything Lila wanted to be. Tall, confident, popular, good-looking, fun to be with. Most siblings – or sisters at any rate – didn’t get on when they were children. Lila and Sophie did. Her elder sister looked out for her, took her to the park, made time for her. Didn’t put her down, laugh at her, try to lose her and go off with her friends when her mother told them to be together. And Lila loved her for that. And for everything else.
And her mother. She was fun to be around then too. And her father, when she saw him. When he wasn’t at work. She remembered weekends when they were all together. Holidays where they found somewhere new to explore. That was when she felt happy. That was the time in her life she remembered laughing like someone with nothing to fear.
Then that rosy glow faded.
Sophie disappeared. That’s what Lila was told. Sophie had gone to live with other people and wouldn’t be coming back. Lila was devastated. Why would her sister do that? Why would her sister leave her that way? And who had she gone to live with? Who wanted her more than Lila did? Apart from breaking her heart, none of it made any sense.
Her parents wouldn’t explain further. They stuck to their story. Lila noticed a change in them straight away. Especially her mother. The fun drained from her, replaced by a kind of over-cautious anger. She didn’t want to let Lila out of her sight yet punished her for whatever she did. Lila suddenly developed faults in her mother’s eyes. Lila believed she was behaving as she always had, but her mother insisted that those faults were there and they were sudden and huge. Angrily insisted. Sometimes with threats of violence, sometimes with actual violence.
The rosy glow had
completely disappeared now, just darkness all around. Cast adrift by her sister’s disappearance, left with an increasingly unstable mother. Her father began to spend longer and longer at work, sometimes not coming home for days on end. When he did eventually turn up he would be distant, sad-looking. As if he wanted to say something to Lila, something important, but couldn’t find the words or the time or the energy to do so. And her mother would ensure that the two of them were never alone long enough for him to do it, always seeking some excuse to break them up, to be there with them, even though she made it abundantly clear she didn’t want to spend time with either of them. Her father began to take on the defeated, haunted look that prisoners had in films.
He seemed to just fade in and out of her life from that point, more like a ghost than a real person. But her mother was there. All the time. Much more corporeal than Lila would have wanted.
Years went by.
Lila’s schoolwork began to suffer. Her friendships. She wasn’t like Sophie had been, popular and confident. She felt herself becoming awkward, shy. Unable to express herself emotionally but with a well of rage building within her. The other kids at school laughed at her, bullied her. She became more and more withdrawn. Unable to tell her mother, unable to tell her teachers. She felt so alone, like she didn’t even want to be alive.
Then her mother started to change. Began to visit church regularly. Not just any old C of E church either. But an extreme evangelical one, the kind that would have handled snakes had health-and-safety regulations let them. Her mother’s behaviour became even more erratic and extreme. She still took everything out on Lila but now she had a reason. God told her to do it.
Lila didn’t know what to make of that. Her parents had never been religious. Her father in particular had always mocked religion, laughed at bishops and priests when they came on TV. Lila had always laughed along with him. But now he said nothing. Just let her mother continue.
Then something miraculous happened. Sophie had contacted her mother.
Lila was overjoyed. When? How? And more importantly, when was she coming home? Her mother spoke with a kind of cold triumph in her voice. Sophie wasn’t coming home. Not here, not now. Not to this place. Lila was devastated. She didn’t understand. Sophie was in a better place now. A much better place. Sophie was in heaven.
Sophie wasn’t coming back. This place wasn’t good enough for her. You – her mother pointed at Lila – aren’t good enough for her. She’s with God now. And we’ll all go and meet her one glorious day. We’ll all be with her then. But first we have to suffer down here. Like she did. We can’t be at one with God until we’ve suffered like she did.
Lila looked to her father. He said nothing. He was beyond broken, a dead man walking. Going along with whatever his wife said.
Lila couldn’t believe what she was hearing. At first she was too stunned to speak, to question. But she eventually found her voice. And the questions didn’t stop.
How was Sophie in heaven?
How was she with God?
Where had she actually gone?
Had her mother and father been lying to her all this time?
What had been happening?
It was her father who eventually told her. In a voice as small as he now looked. His words were few and simple but like an iceberg held masses beneath them.
‘Sophie’s dead,’ he said. ‘She was killed by a car. We don’t know who was driving. He didn’t stop. He was never found. He got away with murder.’
Lila couldn’t believe what she was hearing. On one level it all made sense, the way things had been the last few years, but it still didn’t begin to answer her questions. The main one being the next thing she shouted out:
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
No reply.
‘You lied to me . . . You both lied to me . . .’
‘We were trying to protect you . . .’ Her father’s words as weak as his voice. ‘We didn’t know what to do for the best . . . We thought . . . When you were older . . .’
‘That’s enough.’ Her mother strong, imperious. ‘We did what we thought was best. And that’s that.’
‘You lied to me, you—’
The slap was as sudden as it was unexpected. Lila put her hand to her face, the shock even stronger than the pain. And the pain was intense.
‘You will not talk to me like that. You. Of all people. You will not talk to your mother like that.’ Standing over her, ready with the next blow.
Lila looked to her father, hoping for some guidance, some resistance. He just sighed, shook his head. Said nothing.
‘You will not disrespect your mother. You will not disrespect your sister. And most importantly, you will not disrespect God.’
Lila stared.
‘You’re a monster. Nothing but a monster. He took the wrong one.’
After that there was no way back.
The rage inside her welled up, spilled over. If Lila was a monster, she would behave like one. If she couldn’t be good, she would be bad. If the only response she could get out of her mother was negative, then she would really give her something to be angry about. And as for her father . . . He wasn’t worth considering. She had no respect for him. He might as well not be there.
And that was the majority of her teenage years. Living in a house where she was actively hated or at best ignored, constantly having to measure up against a deified dead sister, constantly being found wanting.
It all came to a head one day when she came in from school. Or at least what her parents assumed was school. Lila had actually been in the park all day, hanging around with a like-minded group that spent all of their money on cheap booze and even cheaper drugs. She didn’t like them much but felt she had no choice. These people were her friends now.
There was a man waiting in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Well dressed – too well dressed, Lila thought – smiling insincerely.
‘This is Father Gerald. From our church. He’s here to help you, Lila.’
Lila looked at him, saw the cruel hunger in his eyes, the kind that was usually disguised behind good manners and good clothes. She saw through him straight away. Saw him for what he was. Hiding behind his position in the Church to excuse any sadism he wanted.
‘What’s he want?’
Father Gerald stood up. The smile still in place. ‘Your mother tells me you’re troubled, Lila.’ Softly spoken, soothing, like a lullaby.
Lila said nothing, just clenched her fists, steadied her legs, ready for whatever he was going to do.
Her mother came and stood at Father Gerald’s side, both moving slowly towards her.
‘Your mother tells me you’re beset by demons, Lila. That they need casting out?’ His ridiculous words rendered reasonable by his calm and even tone.
‘What the fuck?’ Lila said.
Her mother looked at the priest in triumph. ‘You see? You see what I have to put up with, Father Gerald? The way she talks to me?’
Father Gerald smiled. ‘Don’t worry. She won’t be like that for much longer.’
The signal must have been prearranged. Lila had no time to move, didn’t see them pounce. Father Gerald pinning her down, her mother pulling her arms behind her, tying something round her wrists.
Lila screamed, shouted, kicked against them all the harder. To no avail. They seemed to receive strength from her struggles, her fear. Soon she was trussed up, cable ties at her wrists and ankles, writhing on the floor trying to get up, get out of the room, the house. Screaming obscenities, shouting for help.
‘The devil is strong in this one,’ said Father Gerald, voice like someone explaining a PowerPoint presentation. He gagged her, pulled the cloth tight in her mouth.
Lila felt it cut into the sides of her lips. The more she screamed, the more she worked against it, the more it bit into her.
‘Now we can begin the exorcism,’ he said.
And Lila screamed even more.
*
Later, when it was all over, when Lila had stopped crying, stopped shaking, her mother came back into the living room. Sat down opposite her, stared at her. Face blank, voice flat.
‘It was for your own good. We had to find some way to get the demons out of you. To turn you into a good girl. It was for the best.’ Her mother smiled. It didn’t come naturally. ‘Don’t you feel better? Don’t you feel like you’ve been renewed in the body of Christ?’
‘I fucking hate you.’
Her mother sighed. ‘I thought we’d got rid of all this.’
‘I fucking hate you.’
‘Lila . . .’
‘I hope you get cancer and die alone. Really painfully. I hope you fucking suffer.’
‘Lila, that isn’t . . .’
‘I hope you get to heaven and Sophie isn’t there.’
Her mother looked wounded. Lila felt empowered. She continued.
‘I hope she’s in hell. Burning in hell. Rotting in hell.’
Her mother’s mouth fell open.
‘I hope you go there too. I hope you fucking burn.’
Tears sprang to the corners of Lila’s mother’s eyes. Lila felt triumph at the sight of that and smiled. The smile turned into a laugh. And the laugh didn’t stop.
She heard her mother crying, telling her to get out of the house, that she was no longer a daughter of hers. She heard her screaming that Lila had let God down, let her sister down, let her own mother down, after all the things she had done to help her. She heard all that. And she never stopped laughing.
And that night, she left.
*
And now she was here. In a caravan in Cornwall with drug dealers who didn’t know her or trust her but would like to fuck her, and a giant man with the mind of a baby.
She kept staring at the ceiling, desperately trying to think of those times when she was happy. Desperately hoping that a time would come when she could be happy once more.
Knowing that there was no point in even thinking that.
She stayed screwed up in the sleeping bag, a foetal ball for as long as possible. But she knew she would have to leave the room at some point, face the living hell her life had become.
She thought of her mother, wondered what she was doing now. Hoped that whatever it was, she was suffering more than Lila was.
The Old Religion Page 9