The Chrysalid Conspiracy (57 page)

“Okay then,” replied Bridie. “We’ll go to dinner at the Moonraker. It’s just opened as a restaurant, then we’ll take a couple of bottles back to the caravan. We’ll talk, smoke expensive cigars, get drunk, and you can hate me tomorrow. How’s that?”

“Mum, I could never hate you, no matter what,” Rayn replied, and such was the passion in her voice Bridie burst into tears.

Later, once the collective ‘Astral Flow’ had reached a sort of equilibrium, and they could all talk again without tears, they became hesitant and trivial by contrast.

Deciding there should be no more ‘bombshells’, emotional outbursts, or accusations as it would get them nowhere, Bridie explained hers and Rayn’s plans for the evening, and that they would be staying down the caravan for the night. Once Lucy and Amelia had opted for a ‘quiet night in’ it left the conversation somewhat dry, and the bottle of brandy much depleted.

That afternoon Amelia hovered near the school bus stop in the hope of seeing Caz and her sister. She had no luck and came back with the upsetting news that they hadn’t been at school that day. It caused a nagging worry but there wasn’t much they could do. They gave each other a long hug and promised they would support their mothers fully, whether they liked what they heard or not.

“Do you think this is the end of something? Or the beginning?” asked Rayn.

“Or,” Amelia replied, “as Churchill so eloquently put it, ‘Is it the end of the beginning?’ We’ll have to wait and see.”

“That doesn’t sound very hopeful,” said Rayn. “But at least we are experts at waiting and seeing,” and she left to follow her mother.

Lucy complained of feeling a little tired and Amelia helped her to bed. She was asleep even before Amelia had left the room and Amelia put it down to emotional exhaustion marinated in alcohol, and quietly closed the door.

Slipping outside, she turned right and made her way along the road, crossing over at the bakery to walk down the other side of the green. As she got to the church, she slowed down and walked past the rectory, trying to look casual. There was no sign of life except the two cars in the driveway, so she went to the church gate and turned in to the cemetery. There were a few people around still, a groundsman, an elderly lady carefully weeding a grave. A young couple were putting flowers on a small child’s grave. The woman was crying gently, so it must have been a recent event.

Making her way to the rear of the church itself she turned right, leaving the path.

From the back of the rectory she had a good view through the bushes. The conservatory was empty, but she could see into the kitchen through the wide patio doors. A movement caught her eye and she saw Caz laying the table. A huge feeling of relief washed through her. She was okay.

Trying to make her way round the side of the house to see for any signs of Claire, she was spotted by the groundsman. “Ere, what are you up to?” he called as he hurried towards her.

Sorry,” said Amelia, thinking quickly. “I was told my great grandmother was buried in this old part of the cemetery.”

“What’s ’er name, then?” he challenged.

“Mary Curie,” she said, and winced at her own lack of subtlety.

“Never ’eard of ’er. No one of that name buried ’ere. I know ’em all. Go on, buzz off before I call the vicar.” He made it very plain that he didn’t like teenagers by muttering “bloody vandals” as she walked away.

She was pleased that she had seen Caz, which meant the girls weren’t Patagonian mountain dwellers. At least, not yet. She arrived at Molly’s flat more relieved than she cared to admit.

She was greeted by total chaos. The result of too many people in too little space. She managed to speak to Nigel about starting up their training schedule again, to which he agreed wholeheartedly. Amelia had the impression he would have agreed with anything just to get out of the house for a while.

She told Molly she wanted to visit the Orugo’s to offer her condolences, but didn’t know their address. Molly told her she wasn’t sure, but she did know that Ben Orugo had taken the children back to Nigeria to give his wife a traditional tribal burial. She didn’t know when they would be back.

They had a good laugh when Amelia told her what had just happened in the churchyard. She then went into the boy’s bedroom where the never-ending story of the Ninja wars continued its timeless journey at full volume, with no mercy for the furniture.

“ENOUGH!” shouted Amelia. It was like freeze frame. The four boys stared at her, their eyes and mouths wide open. Fear emanated from them like steam.

“Let’s have some quiet time, shall we? Zac, Miles, go and help your mum get the tea. Zendi, Partha, tidy this room up and put the furniture back where it was. Come on,” she added. “You don’t want to make me angry, do you?”

The result was total and silent submission as they rushed to carry out their new orders.

“Amelia?” asked Molly in amazement. “Can I hire you to stand there for the rest of their lives?”

Amelia laughed, and replied. “Well, I’m no Mary Poppins, but that reaction even shocked me. What’s that all about then?”

“You haven’t heard the stories that those kids are telling about you? Apparently, you’re somewhere between Wonder Woman and Zanitor,” Molly tried to explain.

“Zanitor? That sounds like a lavatory cleaner.” Amelia remarked.

“She’s the Queen of the jungle. It seems that her super hero antics always thwart the Ninja pirates from outer space. Because the boys know you, they feel they have the copyright on the stories of your adventures. Sorry.” Molly handed her a comic book and Amelia smiled at the front cover.

“Wow, that’s some bitch. I notice she lives in a jungle, carries a sword and wears very little clothing,” she remarked. “And they wonder why so many kids carry knives these days. The media have glamourized it.”

On the way back home, she resisted the strong urge to knock on the rectory door. Instead, she sat on the garden wall outside and slowly removed a ‘stone’ from her shoe. It gave her time to give the house a quick scan to see what she could pick up. She found deep frustration with a hint of rebellion from the girls and, surprisingly, anger and fear in equal proportions from the vicar. Pleased at the thought he might be suffering, she was totally unprepared for his wife’s emotions. Pure, uncontaminated sub-zero ice.

Amelia shut it off instantly. It was so strong that she felt it might do her some damage. Never having encountered this before, she had no idea what to make of it. There was no indication of good or evil, anger or happiness. There were absolutely no emotions whatsoever. Then it dawned on her. Mrs West was like a huge iceberg, pushing aside any obstacle in her way, relentlessly pursuing her ultimate goal, whatever that might be. She was completely oblivious to anything else, even her family.

Hurrying home in the warm sunshine, Amelia felt cold to the bone. She realised then that her life experiences so far had been very parochial, and to find someone like Mrs West in this small community made her aware of what she could expect from a wider world. She resolved, then and there, to be more selective in her use of her extra sense. She also decided to pay more attention to Maddy’s decision that she wasn’t ready for whatever it was yet.

Sheila had arrived by the time she got back and while she worked on her mother Amelia finished the kitchen and generally tidied up. She deliberately avoided thinking about the coming evening, but the butterflies in her stomach were turning into a swarm of locusts, busily consuming her will to live.

Of all the thousands of questions and answers she needed, some instinct told Amelia this wasn’t the time. Proof of the conspiracy theory was enough for now and she was grateful for her mother’s cooperation thus far. She reasoned that if she kept her questions to in and around the family she would probably learn more.

“So, who’s Lacey, then?” Amelia asked as they started on the wine later. Sheila had left, and her mother sat in her carver chair looking composed and confident.

The time Lucy had been dreading had finally arrived and she had resigned herself to the consequences. She had also resigned herself to the idea that if Amelia became so angry she walked out; it would be no more than she, her mother, deserved. But at least the waiting would be over.

This had always been her big worry, but somehow, tonight, she felt calm and she knew she was doing the right thing at the right time.

“You’re a formidable opponent, Amelia,” she said. “You and Rayn are quite incredible. How did you find out about the foundation?”

“Felix, at the Hunters Lodge. He said that’s where his restaurant got their flowers. After that it was guess work. Look Mum, you’re not going to get away with answering a question with a question, you know,” she pointed out.

“Sorry my love, I just don’t know where to start. I’ve been going over this in my head so many times, but right now I’m lost,” Lucy told her, still smiling.

“Okay. Start by telling me who Lacey is, and we’ll work together from there,” Amelia said reassuringly.

“The Lucy Lacey Foundation was set up as a cover to scour the world for rare endangered plants and animals. Girder and Elsa handled the animals, reptiles and insects, the exotic sanctuary is just a front, Maddy and I do the botanical research and development and we worked together on the microbiology. Those weekly packages are our way of communicating data, ideas and suggestions.

Amelia relaxed, confident that this was true.

“Lacey was George’s last name.” Lucy continued. “Maddy used that title as a convenience. We had nothing to do with the running of it, or any administration, just the name. It’s worked out well, though. Since George… er, since we lost George, and I miss him terribly, she’s changed the name to the Mgee Lacey Foundation and, as Alyson pointed out in her own inimical style, ‘Now that the flower shop is no longer a viable venture, you both accrued a considerable remuneration, Mrs. Mgee and Mrs Jaxson are now senior directors on a salary, which relieves them and their daughters from the burden of poverty.

“In other words,” explained Lucy, “we don’t have to do anything except get very well paid. I suspect it has something to do with the local government compulsory purchase orders.”

“That’s nice to know Mum, especially for Bridie. She and Rayn have struggled for so long. Although I suspect that something always seemed to turn up when they were desperate. Was all this a part of the conspiracy, keeping us broke all the time?” responded Amelia.

“I’m afraid so, but there was always a large umbrella somewhere, which proved itself, especially in my case.”

“Is this the reason you’ve stopped working and dumped everything? This, and the compulsory purchase order?”

“Actually no,” said Lucy. “Something else came up, but I can’t talk about it at the moment. Sorry. We do our best. It’s not easy living a lie, you know,” she grinned.

“Mum, please don’t worry. I understand, and I plan to listen to everything you have to say without anger or indignation. I don’t care about the things I know you can’t tell me. So light that cigar you’re fiddling with, relax, and tell me about my father, would you please?”

“Yes, well, excuse me if I get a bit misty. I still miss him, even after thirteen years. I can’t tell you where he came from, or how old he was. He didn’t know, at least that’s what he said. I met him at college. He was post grad doing a study on Palaeography. That’s…”

“I know what it is Mum,” Amelia interrupted. “I also know he was an expert on Sanddancer hieroglyphics, and compiled the Jaxson codex translation as well.”

“Yes, my love.” Lucy was stunned. “How on earth did you learn all this?” She shook her head in disbelief and struggled on. “Anyway your father was doing what he believed in, and I supported him all the way. When he died I vowed to do everything I possibly could to make his dream a reality.” Lucy kept her voice level, despite the searing memories.

“What was he like? As a person, I mean. You have no photos of him.”

Lucy began to unwind and her eyes became alive again as a result of Amelia’s question. “I was advised to destroy all photos, which I did, much to my regret. What did he look like? Well, you know Mykl? Your dad was slightly smaller and slimmer and wore rimless glasses, and without the earring. But, in general, there’s a good likeness. I shouldn’t say this but, when I first saw Mykl in the shop, my mind stood still. It was such a shock. Then I saw the way you looked at him and my heart fell apart. So, by the time I recognised that woman I was halfway to a padded cell. I’m sorry.”

“You apologise once more, mother, and I’ll brain you. What do you mean, the way I looked at him?” Amelia grinned and blushed at the memory of the moment.

“We won’t go there just now, my love. Anyway, your father’s name was unpronounceable, so I called him Sol. He was, after all, my sunshine. He didn’t have a last name so he became Solomon Jaxson. You would have liked him. Sensible as well as intelligent, fantastic sense of humour and very kind and caring.”

“Much as I’d like to stay on this subject, Mum, can you tell me how we got to where we are now? Start with dad’s death. I’ve got a dream to justify. What happened the night of the accident? If you can, that is. I’m sorry.”

“Who’s apologising now?” smiled Lucy. “It’s difficult, but I owe it to you. So here goes.”

Lucy paused for a moment to take a sip of her wine, before continuing. “The official story, confirmed by the police and the coroner’s report, says that Dr Jaxson was driving too fast and was above the legal alcohol limit. The truth is, we were both well over the limit and we were going too fast, but I was driving. No, don’t say anything, just listen,” she said when Amelia gasped. “We’d been to a conference then a dinner dance and shouldn’t have driven home. Bad decision. We were being chased and I didn’t know what to do.

Somebody had driven up behind us and rammed the back of our car. They did it several times and all I could do was increase speed to try and get away from them. I don’t remember the impact, or what we hit.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the grass, unable to move, and somebody was trying to stop me breathing. It was a woman and I caught a glimpse of her profile when she looked up. Something must have interrupted her and she let go of me. Just after that, there was a huge whoosh, as the car burst into flames. Then I passed out and woke up several days later in hospital. I tried to tell them I was driving but they convinced me it was a natural self-induced delusion. When what I thought was the insurance money turned up, (I found out eventually it was donation from Chimera.) George appeared, got me out of the sanatorium and proceeded to put me back together again. I’ve been denying the truth for so long, but when I recognised that woman I was certain your father had been murdered and I knew I wasn’t crazy. Somebody placed him in the driver’s seat. It hit me hard and well…you saw the results.