by Kate Bulpitt
TF: Oh, he’s a rascal! He’s a rather adorable but mischievous Jack Russell called Archie. The good news is that aside from being a glorious companion, he’s helping me keep fit. With the amount of takeaways I eat working at home so many nights, it’s good to get out and have a walk!
MW: You walk him yourself?!
TF: Not all the time, but as often as I can. I’m trying to be a good dad!
*
Ladies, you read it here first! And with that, we left the prime minister to return to more important matters safe in the knowledge that we’re in very good hands.
‘Morning,’ said Womble, appearing on the stairs. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘As though my brain has turned to custard.’
‘Well, there has been a lot going on. Coffee?’
‘Lovely,’ Eve nodded.
Womble switched on the radio, just catching the end of a news bulletin and the protestations of an MP who seemed keen to encourage a debate about capital punishment, an enthusiasm which many felt was inflated by his shares in a pharmaceutical company which produced the compound used for lethal injections. Eve shuddered at the thought.
As the bulletin moved on to the weather, Womble said of the MP, ‘He’s wily.’
‘Aren’t they all,’ said Eve.
Womble made a wordless noise in agreement as he poured beans into a coffee chute. He was about to speak, but looked towards the hallway before announcing, in a loud whisper, ‘I agree with Theo Fletcher though. With the Purple Scheme. I have to say, after my initial—’
‘Hysteria?’ Eve smiled.
‘Concern… I don’t think it’s all bad. It could be just the spur that some people need. Things can’t go on like this, for sure. I’m sick of seeing how some of the kids at school turn out – they just throw their lives away. Sometimes I look at them and think, this is the best we can do? This is the best they can do? And it’s not only the really bad ones who are more surly and disruptive than they need to be. They need some discipline, some fear. A kick in the pants. I feel quite strongly about it—’
‘I’m noticing that.’
‘And I’d like to be able to discuss it without being shot down every time,’ Womble sighed. ‘It’s a bit… contentious here. Hel is not a fan, as you can tell. It’s been causing a bit of tension. After that press conference, I said, good, someone’s giving people a kick up the pants, and Hel went beserk.’ Womble mimed an angry face and hands raised like claws.
‘You look like a werewolf.’
Womble’s posture returned to normal as he sighed again and retrieved an almost empty bottle of milk from the fridge. ‘You didn’t hear the milkman, did you?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Anyway… What was weird was the way the kids at school were talking about it. Something so incredible couldn’t help but catch their imagination, and I guessed they’d all be against it, but what was amazing was that they weren’t.’
‘Kids form their opinions from their parents a lot of the time, though…’
‘They do, but so often they not only get demonised – all young people are out of control, blah blah – but they’re the ones who are intimidated, or attacked, and some of them were saying, it could help me. If all bad people are going to be turned Purple, and if I’m not Purple, maybe I’ll be given the benefit of the doubt. And if there’s this new form of protection on the streets, then I’ll be safe.’
‘They mostly agreed with it?’
‘Not mostly, no. But for something that had only just happened, I was surprised – pleased – that some of them agreed with it. Most of them thought it was just like something out of the Captain’s Law comics. The Juniors will be playing Purple People in the playground before you know it.’
‘I don’t know what to make of it all,’ said Eve. ‘I’ll think, this is outrageous, you can’t do that to a person. And then I’ll think, but maybe if that’s what it takes… I just don’t know. It’s incredible, and fascinating. But also confusing.’
‘Most people are confused about it.’
‘And we should be careful, don’t you think? You do seem quite determined already, when we barely know anything about it…’
‘I think, look, it’s a plan, it might work. Let’s give it a chance. Hel thinks it’s terrible. She says, we need a fairer society, for everyone to have opportunities.’ Womble shook his head, tutted as he poured a dribble of milk into his coffee. ‘But I don’t think it’s all down to that. And even if it was, you can’t solve that problem right now, just like that.’ He snapped his fingers.
‘What problem?’ said Helena, wandering into the kitchen in her dressing gown.
‘Ah, we’re almost out of milk,’ said Womble, holding up the glass bottle.
‘Oh. I think the milkman’s just been,’ said Helena, yawning as she headed towards the front door.
‘To be continued,’ Womble whispered.
Helena returned to the kitchen, milk in hand. ‘Make me a coffee, would you?’ she asked, leaning over to kiss Womble good morning.
‘Of course, my love.’
‘Morning, Evie.’ Helena leant over and gave Eve a hug. ‘Sleep alright?’
Eve nodded, then leant her head wearily on Helena’s shoulder.
‘No news?’
‘Nope. He’s still the same.’
‘What time do you need to be back at the hospital?’
‘As soon as, really.’
‘I can drop you on my way to work.’
‘Thank you. By the way, how’s the new vet getting on?’
‘Rory? Seems nice. Quiet. I don’t know, I think he—’ Helena shrugged. ‘I can’t tell if he’s still settling in, getting the lay of the land, or generally a bit… buttoned up. Honestly, he’s a bit too straight. Trying too hard, you know? He could loosen up a bit. I think it’d do him good.’
‘He just got divorced,’ said Womble.
‘Yeah. Sounded tricksy,’ said Helena.
‘She got custody of the dog,’ said Womble.
‘He must miss it,’ said Helena. ‘He was offering to dog-sit for someone the other day.’
‘Maybe he’s trying to restore some order to his life,’ said Eve, ‘work being a good distraction. And it’s always tricky when you start a new job, he might just want to prove himself.’
‘Absolutely. I get it. I just want him to relax. Still, he’s good at his job, and the old dears love him. Plus we’ve been so busy, it’s a relief to have an extra vet on board. This whole push to get more abandoned pets re-homed is great—’
‘Climate change,’ said Womble. ‘Don’t have a child, get a dog!’
‘But we were busy as it was, and that just tipped things over the edge.’
‘I read in one of those magazines that Theo Fletcher’s got a dog,’ said Eve.
‘Yep, and now everyone wants a pooch like the one at Number Ten. Very predictable.’
‘Lemmings!’ said Womble.
‘Yes, dear,’ said Helena, taking the coffee he’d just made her. ‘Though I think you and Bob should invite him out with you one night. He doesn’t seem to know many people round here, so he’d probably appreciate it.’
‘Anything for you, my love,’ he said, prodding a slowly disintegrating Weetabix with a spoon.
‘That reminds me,’ said Eve. ‘Do you think Bob would be up for a chat about the biological possibilities for turning a person purple?’
‘Oh, he would love that,’ said Womble.
The phone rang.
Helena answered, mouthing, ‘It’s for you,’ and passing the receiver to Eve.
‘Eve, hello, this is Shona Attride.’
‘Ah, hi,’ said Eve.
There was a brief silence to acknowledge the previous day’s adventures which couldn’t be discussed. Then Nurse Attride said, ‘I have a message that was left for you.’ There was a pause. ‘From a guy called Jason. He wanted to talk to you about his brother, Luke.’
The message was about Purple Luke! Obviously
Nurse Attride was having to be cautious as to what she said, but there was no one to overhear Eve.
‘Crikey,’ she said. ‘Kelly had a chance to speak to him?’
‘Your message was passed on, yes.’
‘That’s amazing. Will you thank her? Did he leave a number, or is he going to call me?’
‘I’ve got a number for you.’
‘Brilliant,’ said Eve, grabbing a pen. Would Jason know anything about how Luke came to be Turned? Eve dearly hoped so.
‘I really appreciate this,’ she said.
She hung up the phone, and found Womble and Helena both staring at her, expectantly.
‘All being well, I might have an illuminating interview on the horizon,’ said Eve.
‘And you’re meeting the police,’ said Womble.
‘Oh, yes.’ Eve felt instinctively queasy at the thought of yet another Baxter encounter with the law. But also sensed the opportunity for wheedling some Purple intel from them. How hard could it be, she thought. They’ve all been taken by surprise with the scheme, they’re on the back foot…
As far as Eve was concerned, where there was a will, there was definitely a way.
Chapter Six
They were due to be meeting in a park close to the hospital. Eve had suggested a café, but Jason insisted the park would be better. ‘My friend might come with me,’ he’d said. It had crossed Eve’s mind that meeting two people associated with a Purpled person in a park could be dicey. But that was making the sort of assumptions that the scheme encouraged, and besides, she wanted to find out more about Luke (as a precaution, she’d told Helena her plans; ‘Poor love,’ Helena had said. ‘Honestly, the Purpleness is just vile’).
Eve sat on a bench with a cup of tea, looking over the questions scribbled in her notebook.
When did Luke become Purple?
Was he aware of how he turned Purple? (oral i . e . supplements , or injection … ?)
What were the events leading up to him becoming Purple?
Was he with anyone else who was turned Purple?
How long did the transformation take?
Did he experience any physical side effects?
Eve tapped her pen against the wooden seat, took a sip of tea and then almost spat it out. Like the startling fall in a dream which wakes and disorientates you, she felt her internal organs drop. There appeared to be a real-life Purple person walking towards her. Was she hallucinating?
She tried not to stare, but it really was the strangest thing. His skin was a blueish-mauve, which reminded her of the hydrangeas in her grandparents’ garden. His lilac-ed arms and neck poked from a grey t-shirt, against which his skin looked all the more sombre. His fair hair was so short that his violet scalp was visible underneath. That and his blonde eyebrows made him look like a negative of himself. It was startling. Seeing photos couldn’t quite prepare you for the real thing – it was like catching sight of a yeti, or Nessie. It appeared so unnatural that Eve wondered if Dr Jake Spiretti had been right, that this was an elaborate ruse, pulled off with the industrious use of stage make up. And yet, when your eyes had adjusted to the unexpectedness, it did look more simply like skin that was entirely bruised. Thus Theo Fletcher’s branding of such hue-mans as ‘bruises on society’ was damningly apt. Eve was transfixed.
She was so distracted that she hadn’t noticed Hydrangea’s companion, who was a more traditional shade of beige.
‘Eve?’ said the beige man, as they approached.
Was she imagining this? Eve was certain she’d woken this morning, already been to the hospital and seen her dad before coming here. But perhaps it was all a dream?
Eve nodded, rising slowly. ‘That’s me.’
‘Jason,’ said Beige.
‘Jason!’ said Eve. ‘So good to meet you. Thank you for coming.’
‘And this is Finn,’ said Jason, putting a hand on Hydrangea’s shoulder.
‘Finn,’ said Eve. ‘Hello.’ She extended a hand to shake his and watched, in what felt like slow motion, her pale, peachy palm clasp his plum one. The bruised effect was disconcerting; Eve wondered if it pained the Purpled person to touch them. She watched; Finn didn’t flinch.
‘I told Finn you want to find out how people are being Turned,’ said Jason. ‘That’s why he’s here.’
‘Great, thank you,’ said Eve, ‘both of you. Shall we sit down?’
Jason and Finn sat side by side. Eve sat down sideways on the bench, to Jason’s right, and turned to face them both. ‘What happened to you?’ she asked Finn. ‘How did they do this?’
Much to her surprise, he said, ‘I’ve no idea.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘Nope.’
‘Do they sedate you while they do it?’
‘No.’
‘Does it happen at a police station?’
‘No.’
‘Were you arrested before it happened?’
‘No.’
This was like Twenty Questions.
‘Did you see it happen?’
‘Yes. Well, no. I just saw my skin start to go like this.’
‘But did you see what happened to make it turn?’
‘No.’
Eve glanced down at her list of queries.
‘What happened in the lead up to your skin changing?’
‘I went out, was at the pub, came home, went to bed, woke up in the night, and there were patches of me going this colour. Really weird.’
‘When was that?’
‘Friday.’
‘And you started to change colour on Friday night?’
‘Yeah. Well, Saturday morning.’
‘Did something happen at the pub? A fight? Any incidents? Something that might be considered criminal, or anti-social?’
Finn looked uncomfortable.
‘Well…’
‘Look,’ said Eve gently. ‘I’m not here to judge, I’m just keen to work out how this has happened to you.’
‘Right. Well. I’m not usually… I’m not one for—’
‘What Finn’s trying to say is that he’s not like my brother, he doesn’t get into trouble with the law.’
Finn looked sheepish, may have blushed, but it was hard to tell under his mauveness. ‘And my family would… Anyway. I’m not proud of this. I did it as a dare, really… but I stole a box of money.’
‘A box of money?’
‘Those charity things they have in shops, next to tills. There was one in the pub, and I took it.’
‘Did anyone see you? Were there any police officers there?’
‘I don’t think so. I mean, I’d had a lot of beer by then, you know, it being Friday night. If someone had seen me, they would’ve said something, right? Told me to put it back? Told the people behind the bar?’
‘You’d think so. After that, did you have another drink, that someone could have put something in? Did you feel anyone bump into you, or – this sounds mad, I know – inject anything into you, maybe?’
‘Well, like I say, I don’t remember that much, but I don’t remember anything weird, either. I’d have felt it if I was injected. There could have been something in my drink, I don’t know.’
‘But you did have another drink after you took the collection box?’
‘I think so.’
‘Anything else that you can remember, however small it might seem? Any encounters with anyone after you took the box, on the way home?’
‘No, sorry. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, but I just don’t know. I walked home, didn’t meet anyone or talk to anyone or anything.’
‘And there weren’t any other incidents before the pub? Earlier that day, or on Thursday, or earlier in the week?’
‘No. I was just at work, nothing special.’
‘It’s so peculiar,’ said Eve.
‘I know, I don’t get it. It’s like a weird trick,’ said Finn.
‘If you like,’ said Eve, ‘I could take the collection box back for you.’
This wasn’t an
entirely altruistic suggestion; she did wonder if the managers of the pub from which it had been taken might let her take a look at the ISON footage from that night.
‘Great,’ said Finn, with a look of relief.
‘What about Luke?’ Eve asked Jason.
‘He was in that place, whatever it was, with the guys who were in the papers.’
‘The first photos, the man in the sweatshirt, and the other two?’
‘Yep.’
‘Was he… was he his usual colour when he went there?’
‘Yep. He was on remand. Which wasn’t a big deal for him. He was inside, you know, a lot. Then he tells Mum they’ve moved him, said he isn’t allowed visitors.’
‘Did you know where he was?’
‘He said the name of some place. But it wasn’t local. We didn’t know where it was. And when he said we couldn’t see him—’ Jason shrugged. ‘He’d been in a few jails, so we didn’t think it was a big deal. I thought he didn’t want Mum spending money to get there, that was why he said not to come.’
‘How long was he there for?’
‘A month, might’ve been longer. We stopped hearing from him. Which wasn’t that strange, he’d do that sometimes when he was inside. Then Friday he turns up, delivered by police van, at Mum’s. And he’s Purple.’
‘Did he say what had happened?’
‘He said some stuff. He said what had happened in that place. There were a lot of them.’
‘Purpled people?’
‘Yep. All the blokes there. And after they’d been made Purple, they weren’t allowed to speak to anyone outside.’
‘No communication at all? Letters?’
‘No.’
‘How did he become Purple?’
‘He didn’t know.’
‘Really? So he arrived and he was his usual colour, and then at some point at that facility, he became Purple?’
‘Yep.’
‘Did any of the others there know what had happened?’
‘No. He said they ran tests on them.’
‘What sort of tests?’
‘Physical tests, doctors checking them, he wasn’t sure what for.’
‘Maybe for side effects,’ said Eve, jotting this down in her notebook.