Boudicca Jones and the Quiet Revolution

by Rebecca Ward

  ‘Really Ev, I’m so sorry. But there’s so much more to this. I can’t tell you now. I have to get going. But it’s not the end. I promise.’ She goes to run but he blocks her way. She reaches out and puts her hand on his chest, holding him off. He is pushing against her but his heart isn’t really in it.

  ‘I understand what you’re going through, honestly I do,’ she says. ‘Out of everyone. You feel like your guts are where your heart should be and your head is running at a thousand miles an hour. But they knew they could always get to Balt if they held you and you would’ve stayed locked up forever if I hadn’t done something. I couldn’t leave you there.’

  ‘So you get your family back and I lose mine?’ Evan’s face crumples.

  ‘Maybe. But it’s not over yet.’ Bodi kisses his cheek and starts running. ‘Morag and Sam are expecting you. Go. Now.’

  Bodi runs across town to Green Park. This is the last place she had expected to find her mum but that’s what the address says. Clarence House. A grand address that had been home to royalty when London was merely a courtiers’ playground. Bodi expects to be stopped at the gates but every guard, every member of staff that she encounters, lets her pass without question. In fact, they seem to give her a nod of acknowledgement. She feels part of some elaborate hoax. A housekeeper shows her up a grand staircase. The light from a huge crystal chandelier dances on the paintings and photographs that line the stairwell. Heavy silk curtains ripple in swags at the windows, hiding the bars beyond them. Bodi has never seen anything like it in her life. The housekeeper pushes open a door and retreats, leaving Bodi to walk through. A large upholstered bed holds a very small sleeping woman. The half-light of a small bedside lamp breaks the grey of dusk to reveal Ruby. Bodi rushes forward and throws herself at her mother.

  ‘Mum, oh mum! You’re okay.’ Ruby doesn’t move. With her cropped hair she isn’t quite the same. She smells different too. A lingering chemical smell that challenges Bodi’s memory of her. ‘Mum?’

  Bodi picks up a bottle of pills next to the bed. She notices a cannula inserted into her mothers arm connected to a drip.

  ‘The doctor advised we sedate her, just while we get her well. Thomas really went too far this time. There was no need for her to be so badly treated.’ Bodi looks up and sees a figure in the doorway.

  ‘Rose?’

  ‘No, not your Aunt Rose this time, though it seems you and she have developed quite the friendship.’

  The woman with her aunt’s build and a similarly strained voice moves forward into the light. Her grey hair is pinned up tight to reveal a face dwarfed by huge sunglasses, her face is pinched and she wears a plain, navy trouser suit buttoned up to the neck. A badge of office sits on her chest. Bodi stands up instinctively.

  ‘Madame President?’

  Now she is scared, what on earth is her mother doing here in the President’s care?

  ‘Boudicca. Let me look at you.’ Her hand reaches out and lifts Bodi’s chin, like a pedigree dog being inspected for flaws. The President’s dark red nails graze her skin as she turns Bodi’s head one way and the other.

  ‘You have your father’s nose. Not much we can do about that I suppose. Otherwise it’s like going back in time.’

  Bodi takes a step back. This is all getting way too weird.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ She looks at her mum, out of it, her head peeping out from heavy linen sheets and cashmere blankets, and then back to the President. The pieces aren’t falling into place. Though something horrible starts to dawn on her. ‘You are my…?’

  ‘Yes, I’m your grandmother Boudicca. Edwina Chancellor. Boudicca. Your mother really was giving you a poisoned chalice with that name!’

  ‘Grandmother. Okay...’ Bodi is blindsided by this news. This is the woman she has been taught to detest more than anyone on the planet and now she and her mother are in her house. And they are related. She is her mum’s mum. She leans on the edge of the bed reaching for something solid.

  ‘Right er Edwina,’ she says.The President scowls. ‘Sorry. Grandmother. I have to go.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd. I have everything ready for you. Marie has drawn you a bath and I have some clean clothes for you. I think the people’s revolutionary look went out quite a few years ago.’ She tries and fails to make a joke. Bodi raises the corners of her mouth out of politeness.

  ‘I should take Mum too. We need to get out, I mean, you must excuse us. From under your feet…’

  ‘Ruby isn’t going anywhere. Any fool can see that. I must insist that you stay also.’

  ‘I can’t do that. Just a few loose ends to tie up. But then, then I’ll be back. Of course. For Mum. When she wakes up. And we can catch up. Because, well, BIG surprise all this. Insane, really. Relatives all over London it seems. Rich ones. Powerful ones. All a bit crazy.’

  All the while Bodi is rambling she is backing round to the door. She gives her mother one last look and runs down the stairs. She has to get to the gate before her grandmother can stop her. She runs faster than she had ever run in her life but the guards are ready for her. She comes to a sharp halt when the ends of their guns are pointed at her. Looking through the wrought iron gates she catches a glimpse of someone familiar through the traffic, on the other side of the road. Watching. Expressionless. Reed.

  Her grandmother stands on the front steps, her arms folded. It has been a long time since she had encountered disobedience. Bodi turns and drags herself into the house.

  ‘It seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.’ Edwina shakes her head in dismay. ‘Let’s try this again, shall we? Marie has drawn you a bath and there are clean clothes laid out for you.’

  Bodi reluctantly goes back upstairs where she undresses and gets into the bath. The bubbles irritate her, the pleasantness of the room irritates her, the subtle light of the flickering candles irritates her. She tries to lie still but she screams out, beats her fists and kicks the tub like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

  An hour later she makes her way downstairs. The torture continues. She is dressed like an overgrown baby in a stiff silk dress and ballet shoes, her hair held back by a ribbon. Either her grandmother is making up for lost time or she has a dark sense of humour. Bodi can see why her mother got the hell out if this was an everyday occurrence.

  ‘Miss.’ A butler standing at the foot of the stairs bows and leads her through to a huge dining room. The kind where you could sit either end of the table and shout ‘pass the salt’ and no one would hear you. The table isn’t set and he keeps on walking so Bodi follows him, all the while considering the layout of the house and any way she can make a run for it. She may be seen to play the game but that doesn’t mean she is actually playing it. She keeps slipping in her shoes on the carpet and the underwear that had been left out for her really is for a child so she is trying with all her might not to yank it out of her bum every two steps. As much as she enjoys dressing up this is a step too far. They walk into another room. A parlour, Bodi guesses, drawing on her knowledge of the Brontës and Austen.

  ‘How lovely! I knew there was a young lady in there somewhere under that feral street urchin.’ Her tone is as condescending as a high church preacher.

  Her grandmother is sat at a small table set for two. Boudicca forces a smile and sits down. She can barely see in the dim light of the candelabra. It isn’t like she is short of electricity like half the city. She clearly dislikes harsh light and Bodi puts that down to vanity. She has heard that the President likes to rub the placenta of newborn babies into her skin to keep herself young. Or is it that she injects stem cells? Bodi can’t quite remember. Her grandmother rings a small bell and a panel in the wall opens for a maid to bring in a huge tray. She serves them some bread and places soup in front of them. It is grey. Again, Bodi wonders if you have all the money and power in the country why would you eat grey food? So far her grandmother is unfathomable. Bodi dips her bread in her soup with her fingers and rips it off with her teeth.

  ‘No dear. Not so rough.
A nibble of bread then a sip of soup.’ Her grandmother smiles but Bodi can see she is testing her very last nerve, so she carries on dipping and ripping. The soup isn’t half bad. Mushroom she guesses, with a hint of something boozy. Edwina takes two sips of the soup and leaves the rest to go cold in the bowl. She sits staring at Bodi, repressing a grimace at her table manners. She rings the bell again.

  Classical music fills the silence between them. Without quite finishing her mouthful Bodi attempts polite conversation.

  ‘I know this music, I think.’

  ‘Elgar. Perhaps your mother played it to you?’ Edwina sounds pleased.

  ‘No she’s a bit more hippy singer songwriter. Perhaps it was an advert. For loo roll?’

  Edwina visibly shivers at her granddaughter’s vulgarity. Bodi is putting it on, she knows exactly what piece of music it is, but if Edwina wants a street urchin then she is going to get one.

  The bowls are cleared and replaced with poached salmon and ribbons of vegetables. After a few hasty mouthfuls Bodi decides it is time to get the measure of her new relative.

  ‘So Granny Edwina. What’s the plan? You going to Rapunzel the hell out of Mum and me? Look us up in the tower with a spinning wheel? Feed us poisoned apples for breakfast?’

  ‘Very literary dear, though I think you have your fairy tales muddled.’

  ‘You get the gist,’ she jibes.

  ‘As you know, tomorrow has the potential to be a very chaotic day. I would rather leave the city altogether, but as your mother isn’t quite herself we’ll have to endure it from within these walls. Thomas assures me that he will have everything under control within a couple of hours so it shouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. His team are so very capable.’

  ‘Capable is one way of looking at it. Some might say indiscriminate, brutal lapdogs to an over privileged dominatrix?’

  ‘How awfully clever you are dear. Such wonderful words. Now I have no doubt that you’ve been indoctrinated from the cradle in the ways of that damned Populus but maintaining the status quo is complex, and civic order must prevail.’

  ‘You might be surprised to hear that I didn’t know Mum had been a part of Populus until about a week ago. She never spoke about it much but then again seems I didn’t know about her other family either. Quite the keeper of secrets.’

  ‘She was always like that, even as a child. Rose was a lot more straightforward though a little less spark than your mother. I always thought Ruby would follow me into politics. She always had something.’

  ‘Well she did. Just not the brand that you were selling.’

  ‘Quite.’ Edwina cuts her dead.

  ‘What happens now, to mum and I?’ Bodi can’t help feeling that yet again someone else is making decisions about her future.

  ‘We can hardly have you gallivanting around the city causing havoc can we? As soon as we can we’ll leave for my country estate. I have a small cottage there that you and your mother can live in. Away from everything. No doubt you’re as enamoured with that band of miscreants as your mother but you’ll soon get over that. You weren’t too bothered about handing over that Balthazar cretin, were you? So maybe it won’t be such a wrench. A double agent in the making…’ Bodi scowls over the table though no doubt her grandmother can’t see. She still has her sunglasses on after all.

  ‘I had no choice.’ Bodi doesn’t know why she has to justify her actions to this monster or why she cares what her opinion is of her.

  ‘There are always choices Boudicca. And what is right in one man’s eyes is wrong in another’s. As long as what you believe is right then who’s to question you?’

  ‘That mantra seems to work for you. But then again I have a conscience.’

  ‘Possibly. Possibly not… I shall get Marie to bring your dessert to your room. As delightful as it is getting to know you I still have some state business to attend to before the morning. Do excuse me.’

  ‘Not really,’ Bodi mutters under her breath. Edwina leaves the room and Bodi sits there for a minute taking it all in. Is that it now, will they go wherever her Grandmother decrees? Has her mother moved from one prison to another?

  She climbs the stairs and returns to the room where her clothes have been laid out. A single scoop of mint sorbet sits in a dish on a side table. What she wouldn’t give for a sandwich! She pokes at it and tries a mouthful but leaves it to melt. Curled up against the bed headboard, she sits thinking about Reed at the gates. He must have followed her all day to find her there. He would have seen Evan hit her with her backpack and seen Balt driven off in the Sick Boys’ black van. She wonders if Sam knows what Reed is up to? She hopes so, as she worries that he will do something rash and Sam is good at keeping him calm. She peers out of the window but she can’t see as far as the road. She misses him already but she has to lose him to save him. Sacrificing Balt was necessary but Reed, or Evan for that matter, is so much harder.

  She looks around for her backpack and finds it hidden in a wardrobe. While she has been having dinner with her grandmother all her clothes have been washed and ironed. She rummages in the pack, the details from the locket and other ruinous bits of paper are still under the lining where she had hidden them. Bodi loads her clothes back into the bag and changes into some flannel pyjamas that have been laid out for her. At least these are the right size and are plain blue, no bunnies or cartoon characters. If it wasn’t for the circumstances she would have quite enjoyed the luxury of her surroundings. And the bedside table is loaded with some brilliant classics. Everything feels amazing to the touch, soft and clean. It is seductive.

  The house is quiet, occasionally broken by the strangled whine of police sirens. Bodi checks the landing is clear before going through to her mother’s room. Ruby is still unconscious. Her face looks a little less drawn, though Bodi realises that probably isn’t possible in just a few hours. Maybe she has got used to her mum looking like this. She climbs in bed beside her mum, feeling the warmth of her body as she moves the covers. She lies her head down on the feather pillow and falls fast asleep.

  ‘Bodi. Oh my darling girl.’ A small voice wakes her from her sleep. She opens her eyes to her mother’s face just inches away from hers.

  ‘Hi Mum.’ She mumbles, still drowsy. ‘You okay?’

  Ruby lifts her arm with the drip attached. ‘Been better.’ She rubs her head, still not used to her cropped hair.

  ‘This is mental mum. Why didn’t you tell me your mum was the Wicked Witch of the East?’

  ‘West. You never got that right. The one from the East is the one the house lands on.’

  ‘Mum.’

  ‘Would you? I never thought I’d see her again, well I hoped I wouldn’t. She’d already ruined my childhood I didn’t need her getting her hands on yours as well.’

  ‘I mean seriously, of all the people to be related to. And how did you escape?’

  ‘It’s a very long story. I’ll bore you with it one day. Just to say she and I never really saw things the same way so I got out.’ Even heavily sedated, her mum’s exasperation comes through.

  ‘I met Rose. She seems to have genuinely missed you.’

  ‘Now that’s someone I do wish had been in your life. My lovely, sweet sister. I miss her too, every day. The thought of her living with that thug! And when I saw you with him!’ Ruby’s faced flushes.

  ‘Mum. What are we going to do? Edwina is talking about taking us off to the country, to some cottage in her grounds.’

  ‘Willowbrook. I loved it there when I was a kid. It was the only time mother was nice. She’s not really a city kind of person. The green seemed to calm her down a bit. We used to have lovely picnics and it always seemed to be either gloriously sunny or pelting it down.’

  ‘Mum. Please. Concentrate.’

  ‘Sorry, it’s these drugs they’re feeding me. I’m not myself. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with all of this without me. I bet it’s been super stressy. After all those years of being kept away from this and from Populus it must’v
e been a massive shock. Can’t help but think that you’ve been reliving my teenage years. Not what I wanted at all.’

  Bodi sits up. ‘I don’t think there’s time to go down the ‘I wish I’d done things differently’ route today Mum. I think we should leave. Like now. Before Edwina makes us disappear.’

  Ruby tries to sit up but can’t. She falls back on her pillow. ‘Not going to happen little B. I feel dizzy even when I sit up. Tommy had me take all manner of crap when they locked me up. It’s not out of my system yet. Been like a living nightmare.’

  Bodi looks over at the clock which ticks loudly on the mantelpiece.

  ‘It’s 5am. If we go now then I’m sure no one will stop us,’ Bodi pleads.

  ‘You go. I’ll be fine. I know how to handle mother. I’m getting quite good at hiding these pills. I’ll be better in a day or two. Then we can go home. Oh, though I guess that’s not there anymore. Well, Balt can find us somewhere new to live.’

  ‘Balt’s gone Mum. I had to trade him for you.’

  ‘Oh Bodi really? But he’s been so good to us.’

  ‘It was him that shopped us. He got you taken away. He wanted me to be the new face of Populus and needed you out of the way to make that happen.’

  Ruby is genuinely shocked to hear this about her old friend. ‘And I sent you to him, just as he wanted. Always been too clever for his own good that one. But we’re here now. If you wait with me then at least we’ll be together and we can go find a new home.’

  ‘I guess so but there’s a march today mum, a huge one. It’s been building for days and I think it could get really bad. And if you’re still here you’re a sitting duck. They’re heading straight for this place and her.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere Bodi. I can’t, look at me. You’re not strong enough to carry me out of here on your own and I can’t see anyone helping us. I don’t trust anyone here.’ Her mum starts to cry. Bodi reaches over and brushes the tears from her cheeks. ‘I’m so frustrated and I feel like I’m a kid again. It’s very emotional seeing that woman again. She’s not like anyone else I’ve ever known in my life. I can’t believe she gave birth to me!’