The Chrysalid Conspiracy (33 page)

“You realise it’s a whole new set of skills. Not so much this fast and furious stuff you’ve been doing?” he reminded her. “But if you want to, I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise though.”

“Oh I’m sure you can manage,” she said, her confidence returning. “and does Nigel do knife-throwing, by any chance?” she added, making it sound like an afterthought.

“What? You want to do that as well?” he asked her.

“Why not?” she said. “It’s more me, don’t you think? I’m already pretty good at it.”

“I’ll see what Nigel thinks. Actually, he’s very good at it, but it’s up to him really,” he responded,”

Rayn detected his first direct lie and felt good about herself. She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, partly to remind him that she was, after all, just a harmless child.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” George asked her. “Any other problems you want sorting out while we’re here?” It wasn’t sarcasm, more resignation. Amelia’s honorary Granddad looked old and tired.

“There is one thing, as you ask. But it’s more of a personal situation. I doubt you can help with this one.” Rayn sounded off-hand, hoping he would catch the throwaway remark. He pushed his hands into his boiler suit pockets, rocked back on his heels and took the bait.

“Why don’t you try me?” he said, smiling.

Rayn hesitated. This was the big one. She had to get it right. He wasn’t stupid and would most likely figure out what she and Amelia were up to, and that the underlying implications were more important than the results.

“Molly’s friend, Lorraine, wants to go to the concert but she’s working up at the Hall on the weekend. Now we have a spare ticket, it would be a great chance for me to get to know her better. I don’t suppose you know anyone up there who could help?”

“Hey, I just do a few odd jobs for them. I don’t actually know anybody,” said George. He was quite adamant. But the lie was there, like a beacon in Rayn’s mind.
Got you,
she thought.

“Oh really? Amelia and I were quite sure that you did,” she replied pleasantly. “Never mind, thanks anyway. It was just an idea.”

George felt as if he’d been asked to raise the lid on Dracula’s coffin before sunset.
This isn’t due for another two or three years. How did they get so far ahead of the programme?
“Well,” he said, slowly. “I might know someone. I’ll see what I can do.”

He was staring straight at her. Rayn was trying to keep her eyes expressionless. His, on the other hand, bored into her like diamond drill bits, trying to see beneath this childish facade.
This wouldn’t be interference,
he was thinking,
it was a specific request.

“I’ve got to go,” she said quickly. She’d been a long way out on that limb and she needed to steady herself for the climb back. “Thanks for everything George. I have to lock up now.”

Rayn jogged in the dark down Millers Lane, her head down against the cold wind. She was deep in thought about how proud Amelia would be of her, and of the apology she was planning for forcing her friend into taking such drastic action to avoid the concert. She didn’t see the dark blue car parked by the iron bridge until she collided with it. She wasn’t hurt, more shocked than anything.
That’s weird,
she thought,
no one lives out here.
Running her hand across the bonnet told her that the car had been there for some time. It was cold. So, she took stock.
This car has been here for quite a while, next to an isolated campsite where my mother is. And she’s alone.

Alarmed and on full alert she moved swiftly and silently along the path. The dogs looked up but didn’t bark as she made her way to the foot of the steps and listened for any sound. Her heart was pounding and her body tense, ready for action. Hearing a man’s voice in a muffled, heavy accent she feared the worst and coiled her body for attack. At that very moment she heard her mother laughing. What the devil’s going on? She wondered, and immediately became embarrassed at the thought of what might indeed be going on. As she moved back down the path, the rich aroma of roast duck wafted through the trees, which accounted for the dogs’ silence. It was dinnertime and her mother had specifically told her not to be late. She walked back to the caravan and called out. “I’m home, Mum. Hope I’m not late.”

Amelia woke, feeling awful. Her lips and jaw were painful to the touch and her clock leered at her gleefully. She went downstairs and made tea for her mum and coffee for herself. Sitting on the side of the bed, Lucy sipped and sighed while Amelia sipped and winced waiting for the cobwebs to disintegrate.

Eventually Lucy spoke. “Are you still wearing that old tracksuit? Don’t you like your new one?”

“Mum,” Amelia smiled. “If I wore that one it would hurt your eyes. It’s too bright for indoors.”

“I know, my love,” said her mother. “I’m sorry, but I feel much safer when you’re out jogging on the roads, especially in the mornings when all the drivers are still half asleep.”

“I know, Mum,” she answered. “That’s why I shall still wear it. But only outside!”

“It’s a deal,” Lucy grinned. “At least you can brighten up the village.” They both laughed.

“So, what are you up to today?” Lucy asked her daughter.

“Not too much,” replied Amelia. “I’m meeting up with Rayn and Nigel later for a run. Then we’re going to…” she was going to say ‘discuss knife throwing and archery’ but thought better of it. It might be wiser to spare her mother the extra worry. “Er, sorting out the gym. It needs a good clean-up.”

“Oh?” said Lucy, surprised. “Getting domesticated are we? I know another place that needs a good clean-up, but I did promise not to interfere.” She grinned broadly at a disgruntled Amelia.

“Oh Mum, It’ll get done some time.”

“Oh yes,” said her mother. “That’s what they said about raising the Titanic. I wonder why I don’t believe you.”

“Ow! Ouch! Don’t make me laugh,” she wailed as she held her mouth. “Just remember who’s doing your physio.”

“Doesn’t Molly jog with you now? I thought she was into all this stuff. I must admit she’s looking pretty trim lately.”

Amelia explained. “No. Timing’s all wrong. She has Zac and Miles in the mornings, and again when we’re in the gym or running after school. It would cost her a fortune for a sitter for those hours.”

“What about taking the twins to the gym with her?” asked Lucy.

“We wouldn’t get much done with those two around, would we?” answered Amelia.

“I don’t know,” pondered her mum. “Perhaps you could fix up a climbing frame or something? Get them some kiddie boxing gloves, maybe? I’m sure they would enjoy it.”

“You know, you might have an idea there,” said Amelia. “I’ll have a chat to Nigel and Molly about it. See if it’s possible.”

“Just make sure you tell them it was my idea, then. Let them know I’m not just a pretty face. Oh, sorry,” she added as she looked at Amelia’s swollen mouth.

Amelia wailed again as they both burst into laughter. She gave her mother a hug and they hung on longer than usual, almost desperate not to let go.

Amelia had noticed a subtle change in their relationship. They had always promised each other ‘no secrets’. But now she knew her whole life had been a deception she felt that some of the warmth and trust had diminished and wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

I have to tell her soon,
Lucy was thinking.
But how and when?
“Amelia, I love you so much,” she whispered into her daughter’s ear. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mum, I know,” she replied, and gave her mum an extra squeeze. In an attempt to lighten the mood, she tried to change the subject. “Have you anything planned for New Year’s Eve? I’ll be at Molly’s with the twins.”

“Not a lot,” said Lucy. “Just Bridie. She’s staying over, and George as usual. It’ll be nice and quiet. Some wine and a few nibbles will see us through. I’ll miss you, but then, time trudges on.”

“Leaving the past to figure out where the hell it’s going,” Amelia finished, and turned to leave the room so that her mother wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.

Molly and the boys turned up to thank Amelia for babysitting. She was a bit subdued when she saw Amelia’s face and did a bad job of looking sorry while feeling a little pleased at the sight of both the top and bottom lips of Amelia’s face swollen to twice their normal size and purple. The boys were told off for laughing, but Amelia said it was okay. Not for the first time did Molly’s cheerful banter become a strain for her.

Amelia eased her embarrassment by pretending it hurt more than it did and slipped out the door. She met up with Nigel on the village green and they jogged down to the water meadows to pick up Rayn. They found her sitting on the caravan steps, half asleep.

“Hi trouble,” called Amelia. “What’s up with you today?”

“Rayn’s not in at the moment.” The answer came back in a quiet, hoarse voice in the low register. “Please leave a message and she’ll get back to you.”

“What happened to you?” asked Amelia, trying not to laugh.

“I’ll tell you later,” she said as Nigel grinned like a maniac.

They jogged in silence for a while until Nigel called a halt. “Amelia, does your face hurt?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she said. “But only when I jog, talk or think.”

Rayn?” he said, the humour lost on him. “I don’t think you’re going far today either. I give up. We’ll call it a morning. But I warn you, you’re in for a tough time in the gym tonight.” He wasn’t angry, just disappointed.

“That reminds me,” said Amelia, and using a lot of hand signals, told him her mother’s idea about fixing up the gym for the boys. It was as if Amelia had pressed a magic button and his mood changed in an instant.

“What a great idea!” he exploded with pleasure. “I must check it out with G-Dad. I’m sure he’ll go for it. I can get it fixed up for tonight. Your mum’s a genius. See you later,” and he hared off up the path.

A thankful Rayn sank down on the river bank watching the water flowing and gurgling over the weir. Amelia sat beside her. “It looks alive, doesn’t it?” she remarked.

“Yes, but we know it’s dying, don’t we? It’s not fair.” Rayn almost whispered. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one up. “I know these will kill me, but that’s my choice. The river has to take whatever’s thrown at it.”

“Or what’s in it,” added Amelia as they watched the remains of a chip supper slide over the weir and head off downstream.

“So, what’s the story, then?” Amelia asked her, very gently.

“Mum brought a guy home for dinner last night,” she told her.

“Really? Good for her. What’s he like?”

“It was that taxi driver we pi… upset on your birthday. D’you remember?”

“What, that Greek guy?”

“He’s Portuguese. And I think he’s the nicest adult I’ve ever met,” retorted Rayn, on the defensive.

“Really? Tell me more,” insisted Amelia.

“He’s funny, intelligent, speaks pretty good English and is absolutely totally genuine.”

“That sounds heavy.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I worked him over with my lie detector. Not a blip. It was so nice to talk to somebody with no hidden agenda.”

“How did they meet?” Amelia was fascinated.

“Apparently he knocked on the door, or rather he hailed the traveller’s call. He was out for a walk and he saw the van and Horace and couldn’t resist. He was born and brought up in one just like it. Oh Amelia, he knows the life, the customs. He understands us. It’s amazing. The same sense of humour – everything.”

Amelia pressed Rayn for more information.

“Actually, he’s a chef. Worked in some of the top places in Europe. And I know he’s not lying. He came over after a job offer, but it didn’t work out. He’s staying with friends and doesn’t like it much. Now he’s wondering whether to move on. He hates taxi driving. And Mum really likes him.”

“I suppose you stayed up late, drinking?” accused Amelia with a ‘serves you right’ laugh.

“Actually no. He didn’t stay late, and only had one drink. It was Mum who kept me up. She couldn’t sleep and couldn’t stop talking about him. God, when it comes to men she starts behaving like a stupid teenager. Oh well, good luck to her.” Rayn sighed. “She deserves something for putting up with me.”

***

When they arrived at the gym that evening it had been transformed.

“I told your mum’s idea to G-Dad,” said Nigel. “And he rushed out and came back with all this stuff. Most of it looks new. We worked on it all day. Even Sambo helped out.”

The man himself walked in right on cue and the two girls burst into laughter. He was wearing one of George’s old boiler suits. He’d lengthened the shoulder straps with string and they hung on him like a scarecrow. He had a check lumberjack style shirt on, too big on the shoulders and showing his ‘Lucky Charm’ medallion, and with the long baggy sleeves rolled up.

“Hi guys,” he smiled, flashing his pure white teeth. “They should enjoy this.” He was carrying two pairs of old boxing gloves and three plastic pirate swords. “Hey Rayn, can I borrow your gloves please?” he asked her.

“What on earth are you up to?” she replied, dubiously.

“Look,” Sambo replied. “If I’m going to be attacked by a pair of ninja boxing pirates I’ll need to defend myself.”

Molly arrived just then. The boys saw the climbing frame and howled with delight. There was a climbing net, two swings, climbing ropes and a football. Molly had tears in her eyes as she watched her twin sons leaping up and down the apparatus.

“Will they be all right?” she was very nervous about it all.

“Sure,” said Sambo, full of confidence. “We’ve put two layers of mats down, and I’m in charge. How’s that?”

Nigel walked back in after leaving to get changed in the shower room, in his immaculate PE strip he looked the perfect athlete that he was. Molly couldn’t take her eyes off him and gave him a kiss that made Amelia and Rayn blush.

Amelia, Rayn and Molly stripped down to their shorts and vests and put on their gym shoes. “I like the outfit, Molly,” said Amelia. “You look really good.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “Nigel practically marched us down to the sports shop.”