The Memory Keepers (28 page)

86

‘I‘ve been looking for you everywhere, Alba. Why are you hiding away?’

Alba’s stomach knotted at the sound of Thierry’s voice. Twisting round, she forced a smile. ‘I just wanted a few moments alone.’

He didn’t take the hint. He moved closer, swaying slightly as he set down the drinks he was holding and lowered himself to where Alba was sitting on a fur rug, laid out under the low-hanging branches of a tall beech tree. The tree was on the very edge of the grounds, hidden behind a stage where performers were twisting down through the air on long silk ropes.

Alba felt annoyed Thierry had found her. She’d come here to escape the Ball, with its whirl of glittering dresses and jewels, bubbling champagne, waiters in white serving canapés on silver platters and endless laughter and inane chatter and gossip, gossamer strains of orchestral music sweeping over everything. She couldn’t think straight in the midst of it all, and it was important she keep a straight head.

The Movement could show up any minute. Alba needed to be ready.

‘This is intimate,’ Thierry purred, brushing her back.

He gazed up at the lanterns and fake snowflakes adorning the branches of the tree. They lit the space underneath in a warm, golden glow. Beyond, away from the party, the lawns disappeared into frosty darkness.

‘Come here.’ Thierry wrapped an arm round Alba’s shoulder, tugging her closer. His breath reeked of alcohol. Leaning in, he whispered, ‘I want to kiss my wife-to-be.’

She pushed him away. ‘I’m not your
anything
yet,’ she snapped. (
And good lord, I hope I never will be.
)

Thierry flushed. Against his dusky pink suit and white shirt, his coloured cheeks looked a sickly red. Watching her with narrowed eyes, he smoothed a hand over his hair.

‘Let’s change that, then, hmm?’

Alba glared at him. ‘You’re drunk.’

‘And you’re a prude.’

He leant in again, reaching for her, but she pushed him away.

‘I said
no
!’

Thierry glowered, and it was like thunder rolling down on her, his usual easy smile replaced by hardness.

‘That’s not a word I like to hear.’

All of a sudden, Alba felt cold. Gathering up the skirts of her dress she went to stand, but had only half risen to her feet when Thierry grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. Before she could do anything, he twisted her onto her back and pressed his lips hard against hers, forcing them apart with his tongue.

‘Get
off
!’ she gasped, throwing her head to one side.

Alba dug her fingers into his shirt and pushed hard, but Thierry was heavy. He shifted his body on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

She writhed and squirmed and kicked and bucked, but his weight held her down. Her hands were trapped between their chests. She screamed, and he shoved his arm up under her chin, forcing her mouth to snap shut.

No one could hear her anyway, Alba realised desperately, heart pounding. The music was too loud. They were too far away.

Thierry grunted. His lips and tongue were all over the bare skin of her shoulders and chest, each touch making her feel more sick. Drawing his free hand down, he began tugging at her dress. She felt fresh air on her legs, then her hips.

Alba tried to scream out loud again (she’d never stopped).

When Thierry’s fingers reached between her thighs, she felt a part of herself break. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She tried to twist her neck out from under his arm, thinking she’d bite his hand off if she had to, anything,
anything
to stop this nightmare –

‘Get off her!’

A shout rang out.

Thierry’s weight lifted suddenly from her. Alba gasped. Air rushed back into her lungs. Through blurry eyes she saw him scrambling to his feet, turning angrily to face the figure cutting across the grounds towards them.

It was her mother.

There was a look of pure hatred on Oxana’s face. She flew at him, grabbing the lapels of Thierry’s shirt to shove him away.

‘She wanted it!’ he shouted, staggering back. His face was a red, twisted mess. ‘Ask her. She wanted it!’

‘Leave,’ Oxana snarled. ‘Now.’

Throwing Alba a disgusted look, Thierry backed away, brushing down his rumpled clothes and smoothing a hand over his slicked hair before disappearing back into the lights and noise of the party, leaving Alba and her mother alone.

87

The alarm howled.

‘Get back!’ Axel yelled.

He pushed Seven, Dolly and Loe behind the cell’s open door just as two guards rounded the corner, shots ringing out. He fired back.

Seven drew his own gun, holding it with shaking hands, but before he could do anything Axel had moved out.

‘Follow me!’

Still half carrying Loe, Seven ran after him down the corridor, Dolly beside them. They stumbled over the bodies on the floor.

It was like being submerged in bloody water. The disorientating red light made it difficult to see: he guessed that was the point. They rushed through red-lit halls to the lobby. The two men Axel had shot earlier were still lying by the lifts, legs sprawled, necks twisted. Blood pooled across the floor.

One of the lift doors opened. A guard moved out with his gun raised.

‘Drop your weapons! I said drop –’

Axel silenced him with a single shot, and the lift doors slid shut. Running forward, he swiped Lin’s access card over the control panel.

Nothing happened.

‘Shit! They must’ve locked the lifts from leaving this floor.’ He spun round and moved to a door to the side of the lifts. He yanked it, but it didn’t open.

‘The stairs?’ asked Seven, panting for breath. He was trying not to look at the bodies at their feet, the bloody footprints smearing the floor.

Axel didn’t answer. He backed away from the door to the stairs and fired three shots at the lock. Then he lunged, crashing into the door shoulder first. It burst open with a loud
crack
.

‘Come on!’

He disappeared into the shadowy red darkness of the stairwell.

‘Here,’ said Dolly at Seven’s side. She swung an arm round Loe’s waist and pulled her close. ‘I’ve got her.’

Seven shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Not with your injury.’

She threw him a look that said,
Don’t you dare argue with me
. Not wanting to waste any time (besides, she was right – his chest was starting to feel like ripped meat again where the dog had bitten him), Seven went into the stairwell, Dolly following behind with Loe.

They went down and down. Axel moved quickly, gun held out. He kept swinging round checking for guards, but it wasn’t until they’d reached the twentieth floor that a door flew open above them and shots rang out.

Dolly let out a cry.

Seven whirled round. He saw her falling just in time and jumped the few steps between them, reaching out to grab her and Loe. Bullets spun through the air. He helped them to their feet, biting back a groan of pain as he felt the stitches in his wound snap open. He barely noticed Axel run past, gunshots ringing out as he took the guards down one by one.

‘Are you hurt?’ Seven asked breathlessly, looking over at Dolly. He couldn’t see any fresh blood, but she was more bloodied and bruised than the last time he’d seen her.

She gritted her teeth. ‘I’m fine. They just – they surprised me.’

‘Hurry!’

Axel was off again now the guards were down, taking three steps at a time as he ran into the dark red shadows. One arm looped round Loe’s waist, Seven started back down the stairs, Dolly behind him.

They staggered on, passing floor after floor. When they finally reached the basement level, they burst out through the wide double doors into an underground car park, stumbling straight into the car waiting for them.

They crammed into the back seat. Axel clambered into the front as the car sped off, tyres squealing loudly in the sudden silence of the echoing concrete basement. He launched into a tense conversation with the driver while changing out of his London Guard uniform.

The car swerved wildly round a pillar. Seven flung out an arm to steady himself. Loe slipped in the middle seat, sliding into Dolly and crushing her against the window.

Dragging Loe back into her seat, Seven pushed the straggly, matted hair out of her eyes. She looked half dead.

‘Wake up,’ he grunted, shaking her. ‘It’s me. Seven. Your favourite person in the world. Come on, Loe. Don’t you wanna shout at me? At least throw
one
punch?’

Her throat squeezed. A little colour seemed to seep back into her cheeks.

‘Why?’ she breathed finally, her voice rough.

He flashed her a grin. ‘Why should you punch me? Ah, come on. I’m sure you can think of a million reasons.’

Loe gave a tiny shake of her head. Her bleary eyes focusing on him, she licked her lips. ‘Why  …  help.’

Her words cut through Seven like a knife.

‘Because I understand,’ he said, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

Then the car gave a great swerve and they were thrown in their seats.

‘Fuck!’ yelled the driver.

‘Just get to the exit, Jacob!’ Axel ordered him.

Seven turned to the window and saw three huge black cars – the London Guard’s bulldog seal painted in white on their sides – speeding after them.

‘They’re shutting the grilles!’ Jacob cried.

‘You can make it!’

Through the windshield, Seven saw a metal grate lowering across the car-park exit. It was halfway down already.

Jacob swore loudly. ‘Hold on!’

Seven threw his arm out and gripped the back of the chair in front just as the car reached the exit.

Screech!

His ears shattered. The awful grinding sound of metal against metal filled the air, deafeningly loud. The car shuddered. It slowed, but it didn’t stop, and even though it sounded like the grille was tearing it in two it managed to drag itself through.

Everything fell quiet again as the car cleared the exit. They wound quickly up a long, twisting tunnel. Seconds later, they were out.

Axel looked back from the front passenger seat. He had changed into a black T-shirt and jeans. He grinned, dark eyes flashing as he met Seven’s gaze.

‘Ready for the Ball, Cinderella?’

88

She felt a hand on her back.

‘My darling. Are you – are you all right?’

Alba was kneeling in a ball on the ground. She wasn’t sure how she’d got there; she just felt frosted earth beneath her, the smooth texture of her dress where she was doubled over, hugging herself. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but that didn’t stop the tears running down her cheeks. She wanted Dolly. She wanted Seven. The last person on earth she wanted was her mother. It felt all the more humiliating that she had been the one to find her like this.

‘Go away,’ Alba breathed, her voice muffled. ‘Please. Go away.’

‘Alba –’

‘Please, Mother! Just leave me alone!’

She wrenched her head up, crying hopelessly as she turned to face Oxana. She hated the pity she saw on her mother’s face, the worry in her eyes.

‘
Now
you choose to care?’ Alba shouted. Anger ripped through her. Her chest heaved as she dragged in heavy, stuttering breaths. ‘What about all those times it was
you
hurting me? Didn’t you care then? Didn’t you care at
all
?’

Oxana looked as though the world was falling around her. For the first time, Alba saw real emotion etched on her mother’s face.

‘Of course I care,’ her mother said, her voice breaking.

Alba threw her arms out. ‘Then why do you treat me like you wish I’d never been born!’

‘Because sometimes I wish you
hadn’t
!’

Everything fell silent.

Alba stared through blurred eyes at her mother, and her mother stared back. It was as though a switch had gone off. The soundtrack of the world turned to mute, the sounds of the Ball fading away, and all she could hear was her own ragged breaths and her heart, beat beat beating in her chest.

After what felt like an eternity, Oxana shook her head. ‘I – I didn’t mean that,’ she said shakily.’

‘Please. No more lies.’

For some reason, Alba felt strangely calm now. A sense of peace enveloped her. Her breaths slowing, she stood, smoothing down her mussed and dirtied dress.

Her mother drew a heavy breath. ‘I think,’ she said, ‘it’s time I told you the truth.’

She took her hands. Alba could see the soft tracks of tears running down her mother’s face, and she stared at them in disbelief.

Her mother, the Ice Queen, was crying.

‘When I left Ukraine,’ Oxana began, her voice even, despite the tremor running through it, ‘I was only seventeen years old. I came to London hoping for a better future. One of the girls I knew from my district had left a few months before. She told me that the streets were paved with gold. That women had as many rights as men, and there was more for us than marriage and hard factory work. She told me there was no crime. We didn’t need to be scared of walking through the city alone. London was safe. It sounded like heaven.’

Oxana looked away. When she turned back, there was a hardness in her eyes.

‘It was only an hour after I had arrived at the port. I’d just left the Immigrations Office. They attacked me near the river, beating me before tying me up and blindfolding me, and taking me away on a boat.’

Alba could feel her mother’s hand shaking in hers.

‘They took me somewhere underground,’ Oxana continued. ‘I know now, of course, that they were Tube Gang members and they’d taken me to the maze of disused tunnels beneath the city. I thought I’d die there. That I’d never see the sky again. And I thought how wrong my friend was – London was
not
safe. It was not heaven.’

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her gaze drifting away. ‘But I didn’t die there. They let me go. I suppose they didn’t think they needed to worry about me telling anyone because I was new in the city. Two men from the London Guard took me to hospital when they found me walking the streets later that night, bloodied and dirty.’ Her eyes clicked back to Alba. ‘That’s where I met Alastair. He came to ask me for details on my attackers. At the time, he was working on a big case involving one of the Tube Gangs and was hoping I might have some useful information.’ She smiled tentatively. ‘He proposed after a month. And eight months later, you were born.’

The shock of her mother’s words snapped through Alba like a current. Every inch of her seemed to scream alert.

‘Eight –
eight
months later?’ she croaked.

No.

No
.

Oxana’s eyes were imploring. ‘Please, my darling,’ she said desperately. ‘You have to know that your father loves you every bit as much as he would if you were his own. That even though I know I might not show it all the time, because sometimes the memory of it all just gets too much and something inside me breaks,
I
love you too, Alba. I love you so,
so
much
–’

BOOM.

The world let out a giant shudder.

Alba dropped her mother’s hand as the ground shook. The air snapped, breaking apart with a horrible, groaning roar that seemed to rip everything in two. All of a sudden the November night felt hot and burning, and as she stumbled back she saw flames dancing where the Ball was taking place, fiery tongues licking high into the sky.

Her mother’s eyes were wide. ‘What on
earth
 … ?’

‘The Movement,’ breathed Alba.

They were here.

She looked back at her mother. Her beautiful face was lit by the glow of the flames. Alba knew they only had minutes, that this was very possibly the last time she’d ever see her, and she felt desperate because of what she’d just learnt. How strange and sad it was that knowing the truth about how she’d been brought into the world only made her feel closer to her mother than she’d ever felt before, because now –

Now she understood.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Alba threw her arms wide and pulled her mother against her so tightly their hearts raced alongside each other.

‘I love you,’ she whispered.

Then she let go, running in the direction of the Ball, forcing herself not to look back, even though every step that took her further away from her mother broke her heart into another tiny piece.