Boudicca Jones and the Quiet Revolution

by Rebecca Ward

  Lying down on the ground behind some trees they take in the scene. Bodi was anticipating a high tech, high security set up but the building is ramshackle. In a makeshift yard lit by dazzling floodlights one guard is marshalling a handful of prisoners, none of which appears to be Ruby. The prisoners wear grey tracksuits that have seen better days, dirty and saggy, held up with belts. The fence has barbed wire running along its top, the buildings have metal spikes around the edge of their roofs. They will not be able to get anywhere near. Reed takes out a tiny notebook and draws a sketch of the layout of the buildings, as much as he can make out. It looks more like a nursing home than a maximum-security prison. There are lots of small barred windows and security cameras covering the grounds and surrounding park. There are only a couple of guards but those that they can see are carrying guns.

  ‘We should go,’ she mouths to Reed, realising she's got them in over their heads. He shrugs, confused. ‘It’s too dangerous.’ She makes the shape of a gun with her right hand.

  ‘Two more minutes, I’m nearly there.’ He taps his notepad with the end of his pencil.

  Bodi lies still while Reed draws. She is worried about Flip and Evan and hopes that they have had the sense to make a break for it before now. She hears a rumble as a black van reverses up to the gates of the yard. Reed puts his head down and Bodi lies flat against him. They watch as the back of the van is opened and the driver and a guard go into the building. Moments later the guard leads out a group of prisoners shackled in hand and ankle cuffs. The jar of the metal restraints rings across the empty park. As far as Bodi can see there are two burly women followed by one very small one. The first two women hold their heads up but the third woman’s is bent over. Her shoulders hang, the grey tracksuit trousers drag on the floor, her red hair is cropped short in clumps on her head. Before Reed can stop her Bodi screams out: ‘Mum! Oh my god, Mum!’

  The woman turns her head towards the sound. Gaunt with black eyes, her lips dry and cracked, confused as if she has imagined what she is hearing. Reed tackles Bodi to the ground and puts his hand over her mouth. ‘Shhh B.’ The guards react instantly, orders fire out of radios, they head out towards them to investigate. The prisoners are bundled brusquely in the back of the van, the doors slammed shut and the guard and driver jump in and start the engine.

  ‘Run!’ Reed hisses at Bodi. A claxon’s brutal wails scream across the park. All around them huge lights pop on one after the other, like a dramatic opening night. They can hear dogs barking and within seconds guards are rushing out of the gates their hands on their gun holsters. They have been naïve to think the building is poorly guarded. The guards spill out of the gates, spreading like a virus. Reed pulls his hat down to cover his face and pulls Bodi up to her feet. They run down the hill, tripping on rocks and grazing their hands as they grab at tree branches. They can feel the presence of the guards behind them, hunting them down. Bodi can’t catch her breath and Reed drags her along by her hand. Down below them they can make out Flip running ahead of them, but where is Evan?

  The black van holding Ruby speeds away down the road below them. Bodi’s natural instinct is to follow it. She can’t lose her again. How long will it take to find her? ButReed keeps dragging her away, down the hill and through the park. She feels like her lungs are on fire, her sides ache and her nails are digging into Reed’s hand. They have to get down to the main road. They can disappear there. The gates to the park loom like a winning line but as soon as the van passes through it the gates start to close. They see Flip slip through once the van is clear and they use all their might to get there before the gates close. The fences around the park are high, something that they hadn’t paid much attention to when they first arrived.

  Reed gets through the gate just, and tries to hold the gates open for Bodi to squeeze through. The guards are seconds behind. Bodi isn’t sure she is going to make it. ‘You go!’ she pleads with Reed. He braces himself to hold the gate open, his teeth clenched. The guards are there and ready to pull their guns on them, when a shrill wolf whistle rings in the air. Turning, Bodi sees Evan behind the guards shouting and brandishing a knife. All the guards train their guns on him now.

  ‘Come on you Sick Boy dicks. Let’s have you!’ he shouts.

  ‘No Evan! No! Run!’ Bodi screams at him as she feels Reed pull her through the gate. She wants to stay and help but he drags her away. Tears stream down her face as her feet propel her further from her mum and her friend. She pulls back on Reed’s hand but knows she has to keep running.

  A single gunshot fires.

  Reed’s eyes pop out of his head, his grip tightens on Bodi’s hand. Bodi strangles a scream. They get to the main street, stumbling like zombies bumping into startled passers-by, eventually turning into a side street and slumping in a doorway.

  ‘Oh no, oh no, oh no!’ Bodi sits rocking and muttering to herself. Reed is silent. She looks up at him. He too has tears running down his face.

  ‘We have to go back,’ she whimpers.

  ‘We can’t.’ The words catch in his throat.

  ‘We have to. Reed. Please?!’ she begs.

  ‘No B. No way.’ He is trying his best to be the strong one. He stands up, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. ‘Come on. We need to go.’

  Bodi feels a rush of salt in her mouth, her pulse is beating so strongly it interrupts her vision like a camera shutter. She throws up on her feet.

  Reed pulls Bodi up from the step and she staggers forward. He wraps his arms around her while she sobs into his shoulder.

  ‘What have I done?’ she cries.

  Reed and Bodi see more posters for the march as they drive towards St James’s. Reed is concentrating and is scratching through gears pretending he knows what he’s doing. He is glad to have something to focus on, but it gives Bodi too much time for her mind to wander. It seems like days not hours since they saw people stopping in the street to look at the Populus posters. The news of TrueSec shooting a teenager has followed them like a tidal wave as they make their way south through the city. Bodi can feel the city prickle in her wake. She feels like everyone on the street is looking at the van. Like they know she is to blame for this terrible event.

  St James’s clock strikes eleven muffled chimes as Reed opens the door for Bodi; she knows the route now and leads the way. She crosses herself, this time in penitence rather than superstition, and they walk quickly and silently along the tunnel feeling both the relief of being safe and anxiety at what they now have to face. The thought of Balt’s intense anger is almost enough to stop her going in, but she pushes the door open at the top of the ladder and goes to face the music.

  Flip is already there, sat on a chair being interrogated. Her face is red and puffy. All eyes turn to them as the trap door slams down, and clouds of dust fly up. Like a mistimed magician’s trick. Bodi can see Balt and the rest of Populus looking behind the two of them in the hope that the rumour isn’t true and all four of the teenagers have made it back unscathed. Sam reaches down behind her to help Reed out of the tunnel. Bodi steps back away from the group, feeling the full force of the anger and disappointment in her. Sam reaches over to touch her arm but she shrugs him off. This is her fault; she is going to take the punishment.

  ‘You did this! I hate you!’ Flip screams at her.

  Penelope has her arm around her daughter, she shakes her head with contempt. Balt points towards the vault and she follows him in there, alone. She can hear Reed’s protestations being quieted by Sam. This is between Boudicca and Balt.

  They sit opposite each other on folding chairs. Bodi braces herself for the shouting that is to come but Balt sits staring at her saying nothing. It is only when she takes a deep breath and tries to explain that he cuts her dead.

  ‘This is what happens when silly children get involved in adult business. My son was shot because you couldn’t wait a few hours. Because you couldn’t follow a few simple instructions, little girl.' Balt's tone is calm but icy. 'Can you comprehend, even for one second,
what it’s like for me to know that my only child is out there and hurt, or worse, and I wasn’t there to prevent it? To take that bullet for him.’ The word ‘bullet’ cuts right through her. Bodi hangs her head. She struggles to find the right words.

  ‘Have you heard, do you know, whether Evan’s…’ she can’t bring herself to say it.

  ‘Dead? Injured? No, not yet. I’ve got everyone I can on it but TrueSec has clamped down. I can’t get anything from my people on the inside. And who can we send to ask? Everyone is wanted for one thing or another. I can’t even find out if my own son is alive or dead.’

  ‘I know ‘Sorry’ isn’t enough. I know that Balt. But I am. I’m so sorry.’ He meets her pleading with stony eyes. ‘When you wouldn’t listen to me about Mum I saw red. And Rose was right, Mum was at Kenwood. But they’ve taken her off again. I don’t know where she’s gone.’ Bodi doesn’t think she could cry any more than she has today but a few tears more trickle down her blackened cheeks.

  ‘Well I’m sorry Bodi because now we can’t help you to find Ruby. This whole event has put pay to anything we had planned. TrueSec is on high alert. People won’t talk because they’re scared of the consequences. It’s impenetrable. I thought the march would be enough to distract them. Give us some manoeuvrability.’ He rocks back on his chair, staring at the ceiling.

  ‘So it was you. You are behind it. Why?’ Bodi hates that Evan was right.

  Balt slams the legs back down on the floor. ‘That’s nothing to do with you now Boudicca. Everything that’s happening in the world isn’t about you or Ruby. Do you understand? There are greater things at stake here. You’ve done enough damage.’

  She stares at Balt trying to read his emotions. Nothing registers on his face. No pity or sadness for her situation. She is nothing to him now. Worse, she is the reason Evan isn’t there with them. It also means she has nothing to lose.

  ‘Why was Evan following me Balt? Last week, before I even knew you? He told me.’

  Balt looks caught out. ‘I was trying to keep you safe.’

  Bodi is unconvinced. ‘From what? We were fine. We didn’t need your help.’

  ‘So it seems. You’re doing a great job of taking care of yourself. Never mind who gets hurt in the crossfire.’ Balt stomps out of the vault.

  Bodi sits completely still, worried that if she moves an inch she will set more catastrophic events in motion. The quiet talking in the other room becomes more heated but she can’t work out what is being said. Sam comes in and takes her hand. He leads her quietly out of the vault and past the Populus members’ scowling faces. He walks her back to his house. Bodi has never felt so unworthy of someone’s affection She looks for Reed but he doesn’t come. Bodi guesses he is being interrogated now and taking the sharp end of Balt’s wrath. No one wants to hear her side of the story. To them she is a selfish girl that has cost them one of their own.

  The birds’ evensong jars Bodi’s skull like an angry eulogy. “You killed him.” Sam goes straight to the hiding spot for his whisky and pours himself a quadruple. He slumps in a chair and disappears into his own head. Feeling dismissed, Bodi goes up to her room and starts to pack up her things. She has to leave quickly and quietly. Having so few possessions helps. She takes down the Map of Inspiration. It seems so futile now. How can these dead poets and singers get her through this? She stuffs it in her bag. She doesn’t want to be inspired, she wants to crawl in a hole and never come out. She goes into Reed’s room and sits at his desk, running her fingers over the sketchpad, pens and pencils that lie scattered around. She notices a tiny sketch he's drawn of her tacked on the lamp. She takes it down and stares at it. In it her face holds the nervous optimism of a few days ago. She finds a clean sheet of paper on Reed’s notepad and starts to write him and Sam goodbye letters. Her emotions flood the pages time and again, her pockets fill with abandoned versions she can’t leave behind.

  ‘What’s that?’ Reed startles her. Bodi folds the paper and puts it in her pocket.

  ‘Nothing. Just needed to write something down. Not important.’

  Reed holds up a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton wool. He comes over to her and starts to clean up her face and hands where she has grazed herself running through the park. Her jeans are ripped at the knee and she has cuts along her forearms. He gingerly presses the cool compress down on her cuts and the sting feels like insufficient punishment for the damage she has done.

  A sadness hangs between them. They are both in shock, of course, but there is also the weight of culpability. Bodi for instigating the trip to Kenwood, and Reed because Evan was the one to save Bodi, not him. Reed pulls Bodi towards the bed to lie down, she faces the wall and he lies behind her, a barrier to any further hurt.

  ‘Sam?’ Bodi asks.

  ‘Swimming off the coast of Glenmorangie,’ Reed sighs.

  ‘Were they hideous to you?’

  ‘Pretty harsh. Penelope was practically hysterical. Balt was just an asshole, as usual. But then, who could blame him?’

  ‘I’m sorry Reed. I never thought it would ever turn out like this.’

  ‘I know.’ They lie still for a while. Bodi can feel Reed’s breath on the back of her neck but he doesn’t stroke her hair or hold her hand. They lie side by side not touching.

  ‘What I don’t understand,’ he says. ‘Because remember, you wanted us to leave when you saw the guns. Why did you shout out?’

  She thinks for a minute, trying to find a way to justify doing something so rash. ‘It’s like you said before, you’d do anything, just to get one more moment.’

  He reaches out and holds her tight as she cries for another boy.

  Ruby’s scarf rubbed the top of her nose to the point of distraction. The beanie keeping it in place was annoying her as well, it was too warm to be so wrapped up, but she had to keep a low profile. As they approached Westminster she was worried one of her Mother’s work colleagues would spot her and grass her up. Cal walked next to her, beautifully bare-faced and beaming that incorrigible smile of his, his hand firmly holding hers. They were a definite ‘thing’ now, whatever that meant. It wasn’t like any of her family had met him. Just the thought of Cal and her parents made Ruby feel queasy. Oil and water didn’t even cover it, more an uncontained oil spill across the ocean.

  Between them they carried a banner Ruby had made that morning at the squat. They were putting her artistic talent to good use these days. She had met Calder outside St Paul’s where some protestors had set up tents and been living for a few weeks. On the steps of one of the largest and most famous cathedrals in the world it was like the circus had come to town providing a show for the open-mouthed tourists queuing to see inside. Villages such as these were popping up in capital cities across Europe and they were getting featured on the front pages of newspapers worldwide. They were on the cusp of something big.

  When she had unrolled the banner, the sophistication of its design had garnered lots of positive attention. Cal had been visibly proud of her but more importantly she was proud of what she had achieved. She had properly felt a part of things. Now her banner was one of thousands being held aloft. A sea of people rippled with bobbing slogans. And Ruby and Cal were right in the middle of things.

  They had got separated from the rest of their friends. And it was ‘their’ friends now, not just his. Being inquisitive and naturally open to ideas, Ruby had begun to fit in really well with the gang at the squat and she was spending more and more time there. Sam had taken on the mantle of her older brother and he kept an eye on her as well as Cal. She had made fast friends in a girl from Scotland called Morag who was a bit more of a hippy than Ruby could usually handle but she was very sweet and there weren’t that many girls at the squat beyond the randoms that Sam dragged home from the pub. Pierre was a trustafarian that endlessly mocked her fancy accent though Ruby had her suspicions that he was more bourgeoisie than radical himself. And she was even growing to like Balt. He was a funny one. He hadn’t quite worked her out yet so was keepin
g his distance, but she could tell she was growing on him. He had told her that morning that he was glad she was ‘committing to the cause at a time of great necessity’. It was opaque phrases like these that really didn’t help his standing in the squat. That and the fact he dressed like a total, A1 dork. Ruby would hazard a guess that he ironed his underwear. Or his mum did, anyway. But he was at every event, every meeting, any time she visited the squat he was there, trying to goad people into a discussion about the state of the nation. Even first thing in the morning, which was no mean feat before everyone was fully caffeinated. He was nothing if not consistent is his relentlessness. And so Ruby was getting used to him, like an irritating itch that you learn to live with. Much like this scarf.

  Ruby looked up at Cal. She still got hot and bothered when she realized he was hers. Well not hers, no one is your property, but she had shares in him and he in her. Even here, at the heart of the city surrounded by thousands of people, he carried himself like a chilled out surfer on the way to the beach to catch an awesome break. Cal seemed free and easy at all times. He knew what he wanted and more often than not he took it, rarely second guessing himself. His confidence was such a turn on. As cocky as Ruby could be she always had niggles that thwarted her. Her angels and demons raged a constant war across her shoulders.

  Ruby was jolted from her thoughts by a rage of sirens. And the heavy thud of hundreds of heavy boots hitting tarmac. Cal’s face instantly dropped its nonchalant air. He grabbed the banner pole from her hand and pushed her through the crowd. But he was too late. The police had formed a wall of riot shields around them on all sides, kettling them in. There was nowhere to go.

  In a flash, previously passive protesters started shouting angrily. People jostled around her, elbowing each other in an attempt to escape. Like trapped wild horses they paced round and round the enclosed area, pushing back against the police. Cal dropped the banner and wrapped his whole self around her. She felt his heart racing and his breath quicken. The crowd’s shouting was thunderous. But rather than being scared Ruby felt completely exhilarated. She pushed free of Cal’s protective embrace and stepped forward, pulling down the scarf from her face and screaming in the policemen’s faces: ‘Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!’