I am Not A Number

by Lisa Heathfield

  ‘Darren says the Core supporters are planning big demonstrations about the Trads wanting to close our borders,’ I say. ‘He won’t let me go to any though, which isn’t fair if your dad takes you to them.’

  ‘Mm.’

  ‘I reckon the Trads should introduce a rule that stepdads don’t have to be listened to. I wouldn’t protest against that one.’

  Luke is lost in his world of pencil and paper. He has this expression when he draws – frowning but with one eyebrow a bit higher than the other. And he always has one pencil in his hand, one in his mouth. I’ve warned him about lead poisoning, but he says he’s happy to die for his art.

  ‘How can women ever vote for him?’ I ask, deciding to reach for the bendy biscuit after all. It’s meant to be ginger, so if I ignore the fact that it doesn’t crunch like it should, I can concentrate on the taste instead. ‘I reckon if they could all vote again tomorrow, loads of women would change their mind. Because it’s not like the Trads were completely honest in their campaign, were they?’

  ‘No one ever is.’

  ‘They talked about strengthening the family unit, but there was no mention of banning new mums from work.’

  Luke doesn’t answer. There’s just the faint scratch of his pencil.

  ‘Sara chose a green band,’ I say.

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How could she? Her parents voted Trad, but she should know better. I thought she was stronger than that.’

  ‘People are scared.’

  ‘To stand up for what’s right?’

  ‘Yes. When there are guns involved. Definitely.’

  I take another biscuit. ‘These are disgusting.’

  ‘You need to stay still.’

  ‘I’ll keep my legs still. Draw them while I’m eating. Or better still,’ I say, hitching my skirt even higher. ‘Eat my legs while you draw.’

  ‘Rubes.’ Luke looks pained. ‘It’s difficult enough for me to focus as it is.’

  ‘Don’t then,’ I say. ‘Come and join me here.’

  ‘I will,’ Luke says. ‘When I’ve finished this.’

  I pout at him, but I know it won’t make any difference, so I settle myself as comfortable as I can to wait it out.

  ‘I feel bad that I didn’t go home with Lilli,’ I say. ‘If she didn’t go to a friend’s she’ll be at home worrying about what I think. Whether I’m going to tell Mum or Darren.’ I pick at the carpet in front of me.

  ‘Are they both at work?’

  The door to our hut suddenly slams open. I sit up and grab the Core band from my forehead as a soldier walks in.

  ‘What’s going on here?’ He doesn’t look at Luke, only at me, his eyes going from my face to my bare legs. Luke starts to get up. ‘Don’t move,’ the soldier shouts.

  ‘We’re just hanging out,’ Luke says, raising his hands with his palms facing out. I don’t know how he speaks. My voice has wound itself tight round the trigger of the soldier’s gun.

  ‘You’re indecent,’ the man says to me. My legs burn under his glare and I try to pull the skirt longer.

  ‘We weren’t doing anything,’ Luke says. I don’t look at him again, but I can hear fear flickering in his words.

  ‘Where’s your ID?’ the soldier asks.

  ‘In my bag,’ Luke tells him.

  ‘Get it.’

  Luke goes from his chair to the wall. He has to turn his back on the soldier as he picks up his bag. In the front pocket is his ID – the one everyone over the age of thirteen now has to carry. Luke walks the few steps across the hut floor and hands it over. The soldier scans it, before he throws it back.

  ‘Now yours.’ He uses his gun to point at me and my brain switches blank. All I can see is how close the trigger is. How I could blink and it will all be over.

  ‘Ruby,’ Luke says. ‘He needs your ID.’ He nods at me calmly, even though panic must be biting every cell in his body.

  ‘Fine,’ I say. I stand up and pull my skirt to its normal length, but even though it reaches my knees now, I feel completely exposed. I try to stop my hands shaking as I unzip my bag. I’m determined not to show the soldier that I’m afraid as I hand him my ID, looking him hard in the eyes. He stares at my card, then scans it before he hands it back.

  ‘I’ll escort you from here,’ the soldier says. ‘It’s clearly an unsuitable place for two young, unmarried people to be. You won’t be coming back.’

  If he didn’t have that gun I’d thump him. Or at least swear at him or something. Instead, like obedient lambs, Luke and I head towards the door.

  ‘You’ve forgotten something,’ the soldier says. He jerks his head towards Luke’s Core band on the floor. ‘Or you could put it in the bin and choose the option of a better future.’

  ‘No thanks,’ Luke says, as he bends down to pick it up and pulls it up his arm.

  ‘Put on yours,’ the soldier tells me. There’s a strong part of me that wants to hide it in my bag, to deny my beliefs and make my life easier, just for a moment. But I pull the Core band up my arm too.

  ‘I’ll follow you out,’ the soldier says.

  I hear him close the door to our hut. Luke and I walk side by side, our hands almost touching. The tunnel through the trees doesn’t feel safe any more. The air is cold. The soldier walks behind us, his boots heavy on the leaves. I don’t think he walks on the railway line, but I wish he would. I wish they’d suddenly turn it on and send a thousand volts through his Trad body.

  He’s close behind us, but I can feel his gun as though it’s pressing on my back. Pressing between my shoulder blades, the tip of it boring into my skin. The bullet released.

  ‘We’re okay,’ Luke whispers. I nod and look ahead.

  We reach the broken part of the fence and I crawl through it, knowing that the soldier watches every part of me. Luke follows and holds back the wire mesh for the soldier, who looks vulnerable as he crawls on his hands and knees. A little boy, just for a moment, before he stands up tall again.

  ‘I’ve got all your details now,’ he says, tapping the scanner at his side. ‘Both your names, where you live. Your families.’ He looks at each of us. ‘We’ll be watching you.’

  We walk up through the long grass.

  ‘Go straight home,’ Luke whispers to me.

  ‘You too.’

  I want to kiss him but daren’t even touch his hand. Instead, I turn and start to run, my feet hard on the pavement. I don’t stop until I’m home.

  Mum is already in the kitchen. My blood is still stumbling from that soldier’s close breath. She puts down the kettle when she sees me.

  ‘You’ve got one too,’ she says, touching the Core band on my arm. ‘They came into work.’ She takes off her coat and there’s a band of purple on top of her nurse’s uniform. ‘Apparently it’s just in our area, though.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’re being used as some sort of trial. If it works they’ll make the rest of the country wear them.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ I say.

  ‘Did they make Lilli choose?’ she asks, as she puts her coat over the back of a chair.

  I nod. I don’t want to tell her, to even say it out loud, that Lilli chose a Trad band. But Mum can tell by my face.

  ‘Don’t be angry with her,’ I say. Mum looks knackered as she sits down. ‘She only chose it because her friends did. And if it’s just a trial for a few days then it’s not a big deal.’

  Mum nods. ‘I’ll go and talk to her. I think she’s in her room.’

  She gets up again already and it looks like she’s carrying a hundred weights on her shoulders. In the doorway she stops.

  ‘Ruby, I’m not sure these bands are just for a few days. I think things out there are going to start getting ugly.’

  ‘Like how?’

  ‘I’ve never known our country to feel so divided and that’s not a good place for it to be in. There are all sorts of rumours about arrests and blocking off streets, but with so many lies it’s hard to know what’s true
.’

  ‘The Core Party speaks the truth,’ I say.

  ‘Mostly,’ she says, before she goes up the stairs.

  The kitchen is usually a bit of a sanctuary for me. Second to my bedroom, it’s my favourite place in our house. But now it somehow feels hollowed out and any air that’s left slides inside me when I breathe and sits like a dead bird in my stomach.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘Enough of the swarms of people entering our country. We will close our doors against the scum of the world, those who suck our country dry.’ – John Andrews, leader of the Traditional Party

  ‘You’re not coming and that’s final.’ Darren’s talking with his mouth full, which Mum always tells us not to.

  ‘You’re not my dad,’ I say quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.

  ‘No, but he’s your stepdad, so that’s the next best thing,’ Mum says. ‘Besides, we need you to stay home to look after Lilli.’

  ‘But I want to come.’ Tonight’s demonstration is apparently going to be the biggest local one yet. The armbands they gave out earlier have unsettled the Core supporters and people want to protest before the Trads have a chance to make the rest of the country wear them.

  ‘Well, you can’t.’ Darren has finished his meal in about one second. I don’t think he means to slam his fork down quite as hard as he does. ‘Nothing is worth putting you girls at risk.’

  Lilli might lap up this violin talk from him, but it doesn’t work with me.

  ‘Then how come it’s okay for Mum to go with you?’ I ask.

  ‘Because we’ll be fine,’ Mum says. ‘And it’s better than us sitting back and doing nothing. We have to stand up to them before things go too far.’

  ‘Dad would let me go,’ I say, but even though he’s a hardline Core supporter I’m not sure he would.

  ‘Well your dad’s not here,’ Mum says, taking my sharp words and throwing them back so they hurt me instead. ‘And if he chooses to live hundreds of miles away then he loses the right to make day-to-day decisions.’

  Darren stands up. He’s usually the one who makes us all wait until everyone’s finished eating. Even on those nights when he wants to rush off to the gym.

  ‘Will the protest make a difference?’ Lilli asks. She looks so young. When I was twelve all I had to worry about was whether my hair was the right length.

  ‘We’ve got to try something to make them listen,’ Mum says. But she must know that even if we all had megaphones and shouted from the tallest hill, the Trad’s ears are so bunged up with their prejudices and their egos that they’ll never hear us.

  ‘Don’t answer the door to anyone,’ Mum says. She’s all wrapped up for winter, even though it’s only September. Maybe she feels protected underneath her coat and scarf.

  ‘Just stay inside and watch a film together,’ Darren says, putting his hand on my arm. He’s frightened, I can tell. Underneath a weird energy that’s fizzing off him there’s something deeper that he’s trying to hide.

  ‘Will it be dangerous?’ Lilli asks.

  ‘Of course not,’ Mum says. ‘It’s just a peaceful protest to get our voices heard.’

  ‘You said it might be a risk,’ I say to Darren.

  ‘We’d just prefer you to stay here and look after Lilli,’ he tells me.

  ‘I don’t think they’ll be expecting so many of us,’ Mum laughs, as if she’s just going to a party or something.

  ‘They’ve got guns, Mum,’ I say and her smile disappears.

  ‘They only have them to scare us. They won’t use them, Ruby,’ Darren says.

  ‘How do you know?’ Suddenly I don’t want my mum to go. I don’t even want Darren to go.

  ‘They’ve got messed up ideas,’ Mum says, ‘but they’re not murderers.’

  ‘Can’t you stay here?’ Lilli asks as Mum kisses her on the head.

  ‘We have to stand up for what’s right,’ she says.

  ‘Come on, Kelly, we’ve got to go,’ Darren says and he opens the front door.

  ‘I love you, Mum,’ I say, but I’m not sure she hears as she’s already walking down the path.

  Darren hugs Lilli, but he knows not to try with me. ‘We won’t be long, but don’t stay up if it’s late.’ And he waves at us as he runs after Mum.

  ‘Right,’ I turn to Lilli, my voice too bright. ‘Popcorn and a movie?’ She looks at me as though she’s waiting for the walls around us to crumble into dust. ‘They’ll be fine, Lils,’ I tell her over my shoulder as I walk into the kitchen. ‘They’ll be back before we know it.’

  I get a message from Luke as soon as I open the cupboard.

  Dad and I are going to the protest.

  I’m not that surprised. His dad’s taken him on protest marches since before he could walk. But it makes me feel even more annoyed that Darren won’t let me go.

  See you there, I text back before I even think about it.

  You’re coming?

  Yes. I’ll look out for you.

  I close the cupboard and go into the sitting room. Lilli is already curled up on the sofa.

  ‘Change of plans,’ I say as casually as I can.

  She looks up from her phone.

  ‘You don’t want to watch a film?’ she asks.

  ‘We’re going to the protest.’

  ‘We can’t.’

  ‘Of course we can. Our voice is important too.’

  ‘But Mum and Darren said we couldn’t.’

  ‘We’ll only go for a bit. If we’re back before them they won’t even know we were there.’

  ‘I could stay here on my own,’ Lilli suggests.

  ‘You know you can’t. It’s too late.’

  ‘Peggy’s next door. If anything happens I can call her.’

  ‘She’s like a hundred and fifty years old,’ I say. ‘She’s not going to be much good if you pour boiling water down yourself. Or flood the house or something.’

  ‘That’s stupid.’

  ‘It’s not. It could happen.’ I put out my hand to pull her up, but she stays sitting. ‘Please, Lils. I really want to go.’

  ‘What if the soldiers are there?’

  ‘They probably don’t even know it’s happening. But even if they are there, Mum says they won’t actually do anything.’ I walk into the hallway and hope she’ll follow. ‘Luke’s going to be there.’

  Lilli appears within a second. I think she might love him almost as much as I do. ‘Is he allowed to go?’

  ‘He’s going with his dad.’

  ‘Will we see him?’

  ‘Hopefully.’

  ‘Okay,’ she says and already she’s looking for her shoes as I put on my coat. I try to ignore the doubt that’s pulling at me as she sits on the bottom stair to tie her laces.

  ‘Mum’ll kill you if she finds out you’ve taken me.’ Lilli’s spinning a bit from the excitement. This is a big deal for her as she never usually does anything she’s not meant to.

  ‘She’d kill me if I left you here.’

  Lilli jumps up, grabs her coat and hooks her arm through mine. ‘Then you’re dead either way, aren’t you?’

  As soon as we’re outside, I know it’s not a good idea. Our street seems strangely silent. One car drives past then turns the corner at the end. The lamplights are on even though it’s not completely dark.

  ‘Are you warm enough?’ I ask Lilli and she nods.

  Most houses’ curtains are closed, but Bob Whittard’s are open and he’s sitting in his armchair, so I wave to him when he looks up. He doesn’t wave back. He doesn’t even smile. It feels like a hard line is being drawn down between those who support the government and those who are against it. Surely it’s something we can scrub out now, before it gets too deep?

  As we get closer to the park there are more people about. They’re mostly as silent as we are as they scurry along towards Hebe Hill. There are soldiers too when I told Lilli there probably wouldn’t be any. One is standing at the end of Shaw Street, two more along Beck Avenue.

  I ho
ld Lilli’s hand tight as we take a shortcut through the alley. It’s darker in here and has a strange quiet, as though a lid has been put on the world. Ahead, there’s the entrance to the park and there are so many people, but I don’t know if seeing them all makes me feel safer, or more scared. I don’t recognise anyone, but the determination on their faces is all the same.

  ‘Have you texted Luke?’ Lilli asks.

  ‘I will when we’re in there.’ Although I’m not sure now how easy it’s going to be to find him.

  We go through the park’s gate and have to follow everyone along the path. The flower beds either side are still filled with delphiniums, the first flowers Dad taught me to name. Seeing them makes me miss him, so I text to tell him that we’re here to protest against the Trads. I think he’ll be proud, but I know I won’t get a message back soon. I’ve learned the hard way not to wait for a reply.

  From where we are we can see people covering the top of the hill. Someone is holding a megaphone, but their words aren’t clear enough yet. I feel better now that we’re here. I’m excited more than scared and I think Lilli is too, judging by her wide eyes and smile as she looks around.

  ‘Can you see Mum anywhere?’ I ask.

  ‘Shall we hide if we do?’

  ‘Perhaps.’ I know Mum would be angry, but maybe she’d be a little bit pleased that we’re protesting too.

  There’s a crowd in front and behind us. I didn’t know there were so many Core supporters in our town. They’ve probably travelled in from a bit further away, but I’m surprised so many people want to show it. I wonder if some of them have come over to our side since the election? Since the government’s ideas have got crazier and crazier. I can’t imagine that everyone who voted for the Trads will be happy with restricted internet use and having their relationships monitored.

  It’s almost single file again as we curve around the edge of the playground. I used to spend hours here, being pushed on the swing by Mum and Dad, then me pushing Lilli, then friends pushing each other and being told to leave. There’s no one there now. The swings aren’t moving, there are no shadows on the slide. Tomorrow there’ll be children laughing again, but for now we walk past with hardly a word.

  There’s more space around us when we get to the hill. Hebe bushes are planted in random clumps for us to walk around. Their colour matches the purple of the Core symbol, so it seems that nature is on our side too. I reach out to touch the flowers. They look a bit like thistles, but they feel like feathers. If it was daytime there’d be tons of bees on them.