Out of Time (33 page)

Joe considered this proposition. Though it offered a possible explanation of how he had slipped into another world it was difficult to relate to himself. Here was now as real to him as ‘there’ had been; that this could be multiplied an infinity of times in unknown destinations in the universe was almost impossible to grasp.

‘Have you just worked this out?’

‘Yes.’

Clever Meredith. He was wasted in this wilderness.

But Meredith was no longer interested. His mind was on other things for he too felt overwhelmed by recent events. He had studiously avoided telling Joe about Kathryn’s vision for it had been agreed that to inform him that his decisions and his actions were, or at least might be, foreordained would rob him of the most important element of his mission, free will, mastery over his life. That both he and Joe were already on their way to Bantage was corroboration enough of the truth of the vision’s prophecy.

But Meredith was occupied with another, pressing conundrum that caused him grave anxiety and not a little misery. No matter how often he considered it, turning events this way and that, he could not comprehend why Kathryn had died in battle. It went against everything he knew about her. She had over the years won ferocious fights in hand to hand combat against the townspeople who were no match for her daring and skill. Yet at this crucial moment in her life, in the midst of her greatest love affair, when she had every reason to stay alive, she had allowed herself to be overcome.

Was that what had happened? Had Kathryn allowed herself to be killed? Was her death not a chance event, normal in the course of a bloody battle? Meredith was not someone who balked at reality but the fear that had shadowed his thoughts now revealed itself with painful clarity. He acknowledged in a moment of shock, horror, pity and respect what too late, he realised bitterly, he had subconsciously known. His beautiful, charismatic Kathryn had planned with iron resolve to take her life and remove Joe’s reasons for obtaining the drug. The townspeople had saved her the trouble of a messy suicide. She had indeed ‘allowed’ them to kill her. He recalled her happiness and serenity interspersed by moments of introspection in the last weeks. These he now understood.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him and he railed against it. Kathryn’s ultimate sacrifice, far from preventing Joe journeying into danger, was the reason for his so doing. The workings of fate were incalculable and impossible to gainsay. And could he defy the prophecy by saving Joe from his predicted death? Meredith had no ready answer, only an iron determination to put Joe’s life before his own.

They left on the fourth morning as dawn was breaking. Joe looked round one last time at the cave, nodded and climbed to the top of the cliff. Meredith followed and took Joe by the arm.

‘There’s something I have to tell you,’ he said.

Joe looked at him curiously. Meredith looked pale and strained.

‘I’ve always been in love with Kathryn. Well, not always but for a long, long time.’

Joe looked at him with affection and placed his arm on Meredith’s shoulder.

‘It’s OK. I knew that from the beginning. It forged a link between us.’

Meredith sighed with relief.

‘How? How did you know?’

‘You never caught yourself looking at her.’

They regarded one another sadly.

‘I didn’t expect anything in return.’

‘You had her love. It was just different.’

The next day’s walk brought them to the conifer forest. Joe listened for the mythological enemies that had so haunted him on his inward journey and heard them faintly in the distance, but they no longer had the power to frighten him.

They arrived at the edge of the town the following evening. Little had changed though the incongruous wasteland had expanded and threatened to spill into the wood where Joe and Meredith crouched, prospecting their next move.

‘What now?’ Meredith asked. He turned to Joe and was shocked to see him trembling all over, sweat trickling down his forehead, his face white. Joe was back in the territory of his chase. The old terror held him once again in its grip. He saw himself as in a dream crouching in the old furniture, wounded, frightened and lost.

Meredith sat him down and pushed his head between his knees until the colour returned to his cheeks.

‘Sorry,’ Joe muttered, abashed at this visitation from the past. ‘Coming back. It hit me.’

Meredith was not surprised. Joe, for all his apparent resilience, was still in shock over Kathryn’s death and this journey, undertaken ostensibly to rescue a child, had a deeper purpose. Joe needed to move on, to put distance and time between himself and his experiences. Meredith had watched him grow up and change, he had seen the depth of his passion for Kathryn, he had understood how their alien lives had changed this extraordinary boy and indeed how he had changed theirs. He suspected that Joe had been sent to them for a purpose that was now to be played out to its end.

The immediate problem was to find the skipping girl. This meant venturing into the town. As Meredith had never been to Bantage - lots had been drawn for taking part in the last fatal attack and he had, to his great frustration, lost - it was necessary for Joe to make the first foray alone.

‘And if they catch you?’

‘Wait until dawn. If I haven’t returned come and find me; and if that seems hopeless go home. No point in two of us being killed.’

There was no moon. Dark clouds trailing shadows scurried across the sky as Joe found himself once again in Cat Walk, which now looked smaller than he remembered it. He emerged cautiously into streets still dominated by belfries but he gave them only a cursory glance as he moved silently past the shut-in and claustrophobic houses. A dog barked in the distance.

Keeping low, he ran across Woodberry Drive, waited at the corner of Berkeley Road and, when certain that no one was about, ran across into the park. The gate was locked and he vaulted over it and moved stealthily through the trees as far as The Field, where he had last seen the girl. There was no one there. This was no more than he had expected but he still nurtured the faint hope that the family were to be found in their house.

He was about to cross Bridge Road when he saw, going in the direction of the town centre, two guards dressed in the same threatening black uniform as before. Their step was determined, as though on a mission. Crouching in a dense hedge Joe was tempted to follow, see where they were bound, but he held back, reminding himself of the task in hand.

He could see number fifty six, Jarvis Road from the park’s edge by looking down Rose Avenue. He watched for signs of life but there were none. This did not necessarily mean that the house was empty but it had a lifeless look, the garden overgrown, the paint peeling on doors and windows. Finding the girl so easily was too much to expect. Many things could have happened since he was last here, the parents might have been imprisoned, the child killed. Perhaps they had moved. Impossible to tell and impossible to find out. The house’s implacable facade released no secrets and without breaking in there was no way of knowing if anyone was inside. Joe waited until the first dawn light and then swiftly, silently made his way back to Meredith. He had achieved nothing.

*

Rob and Margaret take it in turns to keep guard. One sleeps, the other stays awake and watches through the shed’s knot holes. They expect any minute to be arrested. But the day passes and no one comes. Their first suspicion that they have been abandoned is confirmed.

‘Perhaps we should try and get away.’

‘That’s probably what they’re waiting for. Hoping we will lead them to other children. It’s a trap.’

They are running out of food and water. Eventually, whether they want to or not, they will have to go outside to forage.

A few nights later they hear footsteps approach. They crouch in the dark and listen apprehensively. The door is unlocked from the outside and William comes in, dressed as a guard. The children draw back in terror.

‘It’s all right,’ William whispers, ‘I couldn’t come before. Are you all right?’

They nod, afraid to speak.

‘We’re going to the house. I’m going to pretend you’re prisoners. It’s the only way. In case someone sees,’ William says.

Rob and Margaret do not believe him but there is nothing they can do. William is a well built, powerful man. He understands the children’s fears but cannot assuage them. Best get the whole business done as fast as possible and get them to safety. He ties them with ropes, first to one another, then to himself.

‘Try and keep your footsteps as quiet as possible.’

They set out.

*

The failure of the first foray left Joe and Meredith downcast and uncertain how to proceed. Making contacts in the town was going to be even more difficult than they had anticipated. Joe blamed himself for lack of foresight and for dragging Meredith into this wild adventure.

‘We’ll have to break into the girl’s house,’ Meredith said

‘And if there’s hostile people inside?’

Meredith shrugged.

‘No one said it was going to be easy.’

They stole together into the town the next night. At the end of Crown Road a dog barked but they pushed on before the owner could come out and find them. Another took up the warning and another but they reached the park safely and lay in the bushes, listening apprehensively to the cacophony of sound. Doors opened and men came out to patrol the streets. Meredith and Joe, knives ready poised, waited for a tracker dog to find them but none came. The strictly imposed curfew deterred most people from staying outside. Their only legal recourse to issuing warnings was to ring the bells; but as such alarms usually resulted in one or more of the householders being imprisoned it rarely occurred. The townspeople were only too fully aware of what was in store.

They waited until the streets had settled, then moved stealthily in single file across Bridge Road and down Rose Avenue to Susie’s house. This was perilous territory but they were lucky. The garden gate of fifty six Jarvis Road was open and, to their astonishment, the back door unlocked. Someone careless must be inside.

‘Let’s go in,’ Joe whispered.

They found themselves in the scullery, cold and deserted, and waited for sounds from above. When none came they pushed on into the kitchen. It showed no sign of recent usage; nor did the two downstairs rooms. Joe noted that the same portrait of Helmuth that he had first seen in twenty-two Fairfax Road hung on the wall. He pointed at it and looked questioningly at Meredith.

‘They’re obligatory in every house. No other pictures allowed,’ Meredith whispered.

They stole up the staircase, pausing every few steps but if there was anyone upstairs they did not hear them. Nevertheless, both had coshes held ready to defend themselves as they slowly pushed open the bedroom doors. No one was there. One bedroom had recently been inhabited. Someone had left in a hurry.

*

It is with an overwhelming sense of relief that William leads the two children into his house. They are shivering with fright and he too is suffering from a state of extreme nervous tension. He had expected any moment to be stopped by patrolling guards or given away by vigilant dogs but, for once, fate was on his side.

He undoes Robert and Margaret’s bonds and they rub their arms gratefully and look round in amazement. It is a long time since they have been in a house and its sparse comfort looks strange. But they are too tired to react. Gratefully drinking the hot milk William gives them and the hunks of bread and cheese, unheard of luxuries, they sink into beds and sleep.

William waits until early morning and then knocks on the dividing door.

‘I’ve got two of your friends next door, Rob and Margaret,’ he says.

The children look at him in disbelief.

‘They’re asleep at the moment. I have to go to work. Go in there later but don’t forget. Absolute quiet.’

The children have not forgotten. They have learned to speak only as necessity demands and to move around silently. They are only too aware that the slightest noise can spell death. They communicate mainly by signs and have developed a hybrid sign language but they have also, under Susie’s tutelage, learned to write, not normal writing but Susie’s invented kind. It serves them well though writing materials are hard to come by. William brings them what he can, mainly pieces of charcoal and coarse sheets of paper that he picks up here and there. It will not do to be seen with such seditious material. Even so it is hard. The children are incarcerated and are finding their forced inaction strenuous. Disagreements break out. John turns out to be a belligerent boy who lets his frustration out on his small sister; and she silently resists him in subtle ways that drive him to greater fury. Either Ian or Susie is obliged to step in and keep the peace; but always the fear is that too much noise will be generated.

‘Now that Margaret is here with the names of dissidents we’ll be able to organise an uprising,’ Susie tells William triumphantly.

‘What will you do?’ William asks.

‘Kill the guards. Have all the people on our side come out of their houses at the same moment. There’d be a fight and we would win. We’ve got right on our side.’

There is no point in William trying to explain that their plans are hopeless. All he wants to do is to get the two new children strong and for all of them to escape. He is determined to get out of the town, into the country, to realise his dream.

*

Joe’s intention, once the skipping girl had been found and rescued, was to accompany Meredith as far as the river and, as soon as he was sure they were safe, carry on alone across the hills on the further bank though he had little idea of what he could do in that wild and deserted country. He would be on his own again, and while the prospect did not frighten him it was not a choice he would voluntarily have made. But what alternative did he have? None. He pictured himself living like a hermit in a ruined village, growing old. Perhaps eventually he would return to the community. He could not tell, knew only that for the time being he had to move on.