Balancing Act

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Balancing Act Page 25

by Rachel Churcher


  And she turns to go.

  She’s leaving. She’s walking away. She’s my only chance at freedom, and I can’t let that happen.

  I’m crying out, my voice cracking as I try to bring her back. I’m reaching out, tears stinging my eyes.

  “Ketty! Ketty, please. Get me out of here.”

  It’s pathetic and powerless and I don’t care. I need her help.

  She stops, a step away from the door, and turns back. My heart is a drum and my hands are shaking.

  She’s still here.

  She watches me, her back straight and her chin raised. She’s beautiful, and terrifying. I feel as if I’m falling.

  I’m completely in her power.

  I wanted this. I wanted Katrina Smith, holding my future in her hands. I wanted to know how it would feel.

  I wanted to know whether she cared about me. Whether she would save me, if she had the chance.

  The floor is tilting under me. I’m breathless, waiting for her judgement.

  She shrugs. “Oh, if this was just about you and me, I might. I could probably get you out. Colonel Ryan might listen to me.”

  My pulse races. There’s a chance. I can convince her.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. Keep my voice steady.

  “Ketty. Please. I tried to help you, before …”

  I’m reaching out. Begging for her help. She takes a step towards me and my heart slams in my chest.

  There’s a chance.

  And then she speaks, her voice cold and hard, her cheeks flushed with anger.

  “This isn’t about me, David. You used me. You manipulated me.” I’m falling again, my stomach knotted with ice. “I know you tried to help. You tried to warn me about the Terrorism Committee. And maybe I could forgive you everything else, for that.”

  I’m nodding, watching her eyes. Hoping for some sign of warmth, of connection, but there’s nothing. Steel and ice and anger.

  She takes a breath, calming herself.

  “But the thing I can’t forgive, David, is what happened to Jackson.”

  The floor drops away. There’s nothing I can say. I gave her the scars on her knee, and I killed her friend. She knows I’m responsible.

  She’s going to make me pay.

  “Ketty …”

  “You did that.” The anger is back, flashing in her eyes. Her fingers are curling into fists. “You told Will where to find us. You sent the resistance fighters onto my coach, and you killed my friend. You killed the person I loved.”

  Her fists tighten. She takes a sharp breath. The colour fades from her cheeks.

  I think about Margaret, in Enhanced Interrogation. Ketty screaming as she punched and kicked her prisoner.

  I watch her fists, and I know she wants to use them. I know she wants to punish me.

  I hold up both hands, and make myself breathe.

  “I was doing my job, Ketty. I was only doing my job—”

  “So was Jackson!”

  She’s shouting, fists raised, and I step away. I think of Margaret’s bruises. Elizabeth’s broken arm. I know how this ends.

  She lowers her voice, and her fists, but she’s choking on her anger.

  “Jackson died, because you did your job. Jackson died.” She waves a hand at the cell, and I realise there are tears in her eyes. She’s barely in control. “So get used to this. Enjoy the jumpsuit and the handcuffs. Enjoy your televised trial.” She shakes her head and takes a breath, fixing her eyes on mine. “I can’t bring Jackson back, but I can make sure that you pay for what happened. For what you took from me.”

  There it is. There’s her judgement.

  I’m calling her name as she walks away, but it’s too late. She doesn’t look back as she pushes the door closed and slides the bolt home.

  She’s bought her freedom, but she won’t buy mine. She’s locked me up and sealed me in, and there’s nothing I can do to change her mind.

  I’m on my knees in my cell, fighting for breath.

  She had the power to save me, and she walked away. This is Ketty Smith’s choice. This is my punishment.

  She’s right. I’m going to be here a long, long time.

  Witnesses

  “David?”

  Colonel Ryan taps his pen against his notes, waiting for me to speak, but there’s no point. I have no idea what he asked me, and I know there’s nothing I can tell him that he doesn’t already know. I slump back in my chair, my hands pinned by my handcuffs, and stare at the wall behind him.

  I’m looking at decades behind bars. Decades of pointless days and pointless conversations with people who know all my secrets. There’s a trial date set, but I’m trying not to think about it. My humiliation on live TV.

  They’ll call witnesses. Everyone I’ve ever convinced to plant bombs. Everyone who put their faith in me and did something brave and extraordinary because they thought I was a friend. Everyone I’ve manipulated and everyone I’ve locked up. And the people we executed? They’ll read out their names. Make sure the world knows about the lives I threw away to protect myself.

  They’ll call Jen, and Emma. I’ll watch as they tell the cameras what I did. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and freckles, condemning me to a life that’s out of my control.

  Decades of powerlessness. Decades of doing what I’m told, without question.

  Decades of losing my looks. There’ll be nothing left by the time they let me out.

  I remember Lydia in the coffee room, her finger circling my face.

  This is cheating. It’s weaponised. Those poor girls don’t stand a chance.

  Emma, laughing with Jen in the cottage.

  Have you looked at him?

  Rose, after dinner in Leicester Square.

  You’re a legend, Corporal Conrad. I have every intention of finding out what I’ve been missing.

  Ketty, her body pressed against mine on the South Bank. The kiss that stole the breath from my lungs.

  I think of all the girls who’ve shared my bed. All the notes I’ve left, dropping them neatly from my life.

  All the times I’ve moved on, without giving them a second thought.

  Will they call them at the trial as well? Penny? Jules? Rosalind? Rose? All the others whose names I no longer recall?

  Will the girls use their evidence against me to buy their freedom?

  One day this is going to get you into so much trouble, Lydia said, and she was right. The girls will talk, the world will listen, and there will be no price I can pay to unlock these doors.

  There will be other nights, there will be other girls, I tell myself.

  But I know it’s not true.

  *****

  Ryan gives up and calls the guards to take me back to my cell. We do this every day – he asks questions, I stare at the wall, he locks me up for refusing to speak.

  I can’t change anything. I can’t talk my way out. But I can make him waste his breath, every day.

  He’s the one who let Ketty into my cell. He’s the one who stood in the corridor and listened while she handed down her punishment for the death of her friend. Her revenge for the person she loved.

  I know Katrina Smith. I know how it felt, for her to turn her back on me. I know how much she enjoyed showing off her freedom, and refusing mine. Using her power to keep me locked away.

  I still don’t know what she gave them, to walk free. I don’t know who she sacrificed to save herself, and it doesn’t matter.

  She’s not useful any more. She walked out and left me in my cell.

  She doesn’t matter.

  Walls

  I don’t matter.

  Not to Ketty, not to Ryan, not to the people in charge.

  They’ve made that clear. Lydia and Ketty have given up my secrets, and I have nothing left to trade.

  *****

  Another morning, another inspection. Another work-out, another breakfast, another day spent staring at the walls.

  I’d kill for a cup of coffee, but every morning brings another mug
of weak, milky tea.

  I’d kill to talk to Lydia again. To pick up a girl from the coffee room. For a night where I’m not alone with my dreams.

  I’d kill for a shower, too, but those come once a week. The guards escort us, one at a time, and we have five minutes of lukewarm water to make us feel human again.

  I can’t stop thinking about the trial they’re planning. The details, the drama, the list of my crimes. Witnesses. Accusations. Questions I don’t want to answer.

  I’ve decided to tell them I was following orders. I’ll blame Lee and Franks and the Terrorism Committee for the decisions I made – but I know they won’t listen. Lydia Wheelan and Ketty Smith have made sure of that.

  They’ve made sure I’ll live most of my life in this cell.

  I focus on moving my body and distracting my mind. Press-ups, sit-ups, stretches, shadow boxing. Over and over again.

  I can’t change what happened, and I can’t change what’s coming – but I’ll get out one day, and I want girls and bars and dancing on tables. I want cinnamon and roses and apple and mint. I want blonde hair, freckles, and curves. My name like a prayer in the dark.

  I want to be in control.

  I blink away visions of last night’s dream. A nameless girl, unbuttoning my shirt. A door, closing. Dark, consuming sadness.

  I’ll be an old man when they give me my freedom.

  My muscles are burning as I push myself up from the floor again and again. I make myself ignore the pain – I want to be ready. I want to have something to live for.

  It’s pointless. It’s pathetic. But it’s all I can do.

  It’s the only control I have left.

  Notes

  Alcoholism is not a weakness – these are Conrad’s words, not mine. Addiction in any form is acknowledged to be an illness, not a choice.

  Conrad is not a likeable character, but he is a real character. His interactions with the women in the book are based on men I have met (and thankfully never fallen for). Sadly I suspect they will be familiar to all female readers. He is absolutely not intended to be a role model, an attractive ‘bad boy’ character, or a misguided man destined to be redeemed by the love of a good woman. He is selfish, entitled, and blind to the humanity of others, and his attitude towards women – negating and ignoring their humanity – echoes his attitude towards the targets for his bomb attacks. I have done my best to bring him to justice.

  Reviews

  First, thank you so much for reading Balancing Act! I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you’d want to recommend the series to other people. Please, please do!

  Here’s why this is important.

  I want to write more books, but I can only do that if there are people reading the Battle Ground Series. How will readers find out about the Battle Ground books? I can buy all the adverts in the world, but the best way to reach new readers is through personal recommendations.

  If you enjoyed this book, you can help me to write more, just by telling your friends and social media followers about it.

  It’s that simple.

  Head over to Amazon. Give the book a star rating, and tell other readers why they might want to pick it up and read it. Tell them what you liked about the story and the characters. Tell them about other books you think are similar to Balancing Act. Give them a reason to read this book instead of something else. Reviews don’t need to be long – Amazon reviews can be as short as twenty words.

  If you have an account on GoodReads or Library Thing, head over there and copy and paste your Amazon review. And if you have a blog, a YouTube channel, or an account on Instagram or Twitter or Facebook, drop your review on there as well. If you’ve read the rest of the series, reviews for the other books would be amazing – thank you! Tag me (@RachelChurcherWriting on Instagram, @Rachel_Churcher on Twitter, or Taller Books on Facebook), and I’ll repost your reviews when I see them.

  This really makes a huge difference.

  Thank you. You’re a wonderful person, and I really appreciate your support.

  Don’t miss the final book in

  the Battle Ground Series!

  Finding Fire and Other Stories (Battle Ground #7) brings you short stories from behind the scenes of the series, and a taste of what happens next ...

  The Battle Ground series

  The Battle Ground series is set in a dystopian near-future UK, after Brexit and Scottish independence.

  Book 1: Battle Ground

  Sixteen-year-old Bex Ellman has been drafted into an army she doesn't support and a cause she doesn't believe in. Her plan is to keep her head down, and keep herself and her friends safe – until she witnesses an atrocity that she can't ignore, and a government conspiracy that threatens lives all over the UK. With her loyalties challenged, Bex must decide who to fight for – and who to leave behind.

  Book 2: False Flag

  Ketty Smith is an instructor with the Recruit Training Service, turning sixteen-year-old conscripts into government fighters. She's determined to win the job of lead instructor at Camp Bishop, but the arrival of Bex and her friends brings challenges she's not ready to handle. Running from her own traumatic past, Ketty faces a choice: to make a stand, and expose a government conspiracy, or keep herself safe, and hope she's working for the winning side.

  Book 3: Darkest Hour

  Bex Ellman and Ketty Smith are fighting on opposite sides in a British civil war. Bex and her friends are in hiding, but when Ketty threatens her family, Bex learns that her safety is more fragile than she thought.

  Book 4: Fighting Back

  Bex Ellman and her friends are in hiding, sheltered by the resistance. With her family threatened and her friendships challenged, she's looking for a way to fight back. Ketty Smith is in London, supporting a government she no longer trusts. With her support network crumbling, Ketty must decide who she is fighting for – and what she is willing risk to uncover the truth.

  Book 5: Victory Day

  Bex Ellman and Ketty Smith meet in London. As the war heats up around them, Bex and Ketty must learn to trust each other. With her friends and family in danger, Bex needs Ketty to help rescue them. For Ketty, working with Bex is a matter of survival. When Victory is declared, both will be held accountable for their decisions.

  Book 6: Balancing Act

  Corporal David Conrad has life figured out. His job gives him power, control, and access to Top Secret operations. His looks have tempted plenty of women into his bed, and he has no intention of committing to a relationship.

  When Ketty Smith joins the Home Forces, Conrad sets his sights on the new girl – but pursuing Ketty will be more dangerous than he realises. Is Conrad about to meet his match? And will the temptations of his job distract him from his target?

  Balancing Act revisits the events of Darkest Hour, Fighting Back, and Victory Day. The story is suitable for older teens.

  Book 7: Finding Fire and Other Stories

  What happened between Margie and Dan at Makepeace Farm? How did Jackson really feel about Ketty? What happens next to the survivors of the Battle Ground Series?

  Step behind the scenes of the series with six new short stories and five new narrators – Margie, Jackson, Maz, Dan, and Charlie – plus exclusive access to bonus blogs and insights from the author.

  Novella: Making Trouble

  Fifteen-year-old Topher Mackenzie has a complicated life. His Mum is in Australia, his Dad is struggling to look after him, and Auntie Charlie is the only person who understands. When his girlfriend is forced to leave the UK after a racist attack, Topher faces a choice: accept the government’s lies, or find a way to fight back.

  Download FREE from freebook.tallerbooks.com

  Acknowledgements

  The Battle Ground Series represents several years of hard work – not just for me, but for the people who have supported me and helped to make it happen.

  A huge thank you is due to my amazing proofreaders, who have given up their time to read every book and send me helpful and insightful feedbac
k. Thank you to Alan Platt, Holly Platt Wells, Reba Sigler, Joe Silber, and Reynard Spiess.

  Thank you to my Balancing Act beta readers, Jasmine Bruce and Karen MacLaughlin, for encouragement and insightful comments.

  Thank you to all the people who have given me advice on the road to publication: Tim Dedopulos, Salomé Jones, Rob Manser, John Pettigrew, Danielle Zigner, and Jericho Writers.

  Thank you to everyone at NaNoWriMo for giving me the opportunity and the tools to start writing Battle Ground, and to everyone at YALC for inspiration and advice.

  Thank you to my cover designer, Medina Karic, for deciphering my sketches and notes and turning them into beautiful book covers.

  Thank you to Alan Platt, for learning the hard way how to live with a writer, and for bringing your start-up expertise to the creation of Taller Books.

  Thank you to Alex Bate, Janina Ander, and Helen Lynn, for encouraging me to write Battle Ground when I suddenly had time on my hands, and for introducing me to Prosecco Fridays. Cheers!

  Thank you to the Book Club Galz for sharing so many wonderful YA books with me – and for understanding that the book is always better than the film.

  Thank you to all the amazing book bloggers who have reviewed every book in the Battle Ground Series, and never failed to make me smile. You’re all heroes.

  And thank you to the local authors who have joined me for virtual meet-ups through a year of lockdowns, event cancellations, and not being able to meet in person. It’s been a life-saver, and this book wouldn’t exist without your support.

 

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