Weeks in Naviras (35 page)

The graphs had gone, replaced by two images, side by side and nearly identical. On the left hand side was Lottie, suspended in the middle of a room, wires sticking out from her in all directions like spokes. She was wearing the same ball-bearing chainmail I’d seen on myself when I’d come out of the Rendering. She had a contented look on her face. Occasionally one of her arms would move, gracefully. On the right hand side of the screen Luis was similarly plugged in, only his legs were raised up, at right angles. In his mind he must’ve been sitting, maybe at the beach bar, waiting for someone to come out of the ocean.

‘These aren’t live images, but they were captured very recently. I can show you other bio-indicators if you want,’ Rosie continued to hold the screen up to me, her eyes behind it looking at me. ‘They’re in a facility not far from Bristol. We had them flown over from the US last night.’

I didn’t want to believe it, but how could I not want to? ‘You could revive them. You’d let them go.’

‘Of course, the process would take about two weeks in Lottie’s case, it has to be gradual at her age. In exchange, we need another scan of your brain, to confirm why you rejected.’

‘If that’s what you want, I don’t understand why you don’t just take me captive.’

She inhaled deeply. ‘It was looked at, but it’s too risky, under the circumstances. Someone from the village might see something, and how would we account from your absence from public life? We need you to come back voluntarily, so that’s the deal. Lottie and Luis, in exchange for you returning to Number 10, submitting to the brain scan and acting like everything’s fine for a while.’

‘You must be joking.’

‘You can divorce James in time, Ellie, after the next election. That’s all been agreed. But what we can’t have is you and the kids just vanishing from his life, suddenly. Not because it would damage his leadership as such, but since it might prompt some unwelcome research, you understand? It’s far too soon after Morgan’s death.’

‘What about Lottie? She can’t just come back to Naviras, miraculously back from the dead. There’s a bloody memorial to her in the churchyard.’

‘We’ve considered that, too, and we deem the risk to be fairly low,’ said Rosie. ‘I mean, look at this place, it’s a backwater. Who would care if two people everyone thought had died came back? And even if there were some backwash, it’d actually be furthering the aims of the project. That’s the point, after all, make people think there’s something beyond this.’

‘Do you think there is?’ I couldn’t help but ask. I wanted to know whether the woman had anything resembling a shred of conviction.

‘That’s irrelevant.’

I dearly wanted to punch her, if the kids hadn’t been there I might well have done. ‘You’ll have us all bumped off, at some point, whatever I agree to.’

‘As long as people stay quiet about it, nobody will get hurt. All you need to do is keep your mouth shut. And believe it or not, Ellie, you’re the person whose disappearance would prompt the most searching questions.’

‘What about Rav and Gavin? And his friend Rob, will you release him?’

‘Why do you care?’ She frowned at the house behind me and shrugged. ‘I’m afraid Rob is something that’s beyond my control and Rav, I believe, is stepping down at the end of next month. They’ve had to space it out a bit, given it’s not long since my departure.’

‘How many people in the party know about this?’

‘This isn’t really about parties, Ellie.
But he’s been offered the same thing. He’ll have a happy life, so long as he observes protocol.’

‘You’ll never keep this quiet forever.’

She smirked. ‘You’re probably right, but that’s really not my concern. My task at the moment is to work towards a situation where people don’t find out in the short-term. Long-term, who knows? I intend to be well out of the picture by then, and if you think about it, Ellie, that’s what Gavin and Rav will both want.’

‘What did you hope to get out of all of this? Personally, I mean.’

‘Believe it or not, Ellie, I want people to be happy. That’s what I’ve always wanted. Project Tabernacle was meant to help people feel better, believe there’s a point to everything. You must understand that, a bit?’

I nodded, trembling. I was determined not to let her see any tears. ‘If I did this scan, where would it happen? And how would I know that you’d kept up your end of the bargain?’

‘You’d have to trust us, Ellie. I know that seems impossible to do. To do this, you must accept that we think you’ve got leverage over us. We can do the scan inside Number 10, the equipment’s quite portable.’ She took a step towards me. ‘It’s a good offer, Ellie. If you do the scan, then act like everything’s normal until the next election, we’ll release your friends immediately. For the next two years you wouldn’t be able to have much contact with them, but after that it’s up to you. If there’s any deviation, I can’t say what the consequences would be.’

‘But you’ll carry on using the Rendering.’

She gave a little smirk. ‘Well not me, exactly. I’m in a different area of the business, now. Call it a demotion, if you like.’ She gave a pained expression.

I refused to show her any sympathy, it was exactly what she wanted. ‘Answer my question.’

‘You can’t uninvent technology, Ellie. That’s what Morgan thought, in her strange way.’ She turned to look at Bobby and Sadie, the back at me. ‘The president didn’t make many mistakes, but that was her big one.’ She put her phone back in her jacket pocket before folding her arms. ‘What you saw in the Rendering, with the bees? We wanted to soften her up first before showing her something nicer. She needed that, we thought. Unfortunately she only got to see the first part before you destroyed everything.’ She smiled.

‘That just shows how dangerous the technology is, surely.’ I knew I was arguing for the sake of it.

‘Well, it’s out there, now,’ said Rosie. ‘Most likely the Russians and the Chinese have their own variants, nobody’s really sure how advanced those are, but we’re confident they’ve been researching. As for the project, well it’s achieved some of its goals.’ She blinked too slowly for it to be natural. ‘There’s been some positives.’

‘Like war in the middle east.’

‘Oh, Ellie, like that wasn’t bound to happen anyway. At least once it’s over we can start from scratch, draw the lines properly this time.’

‘Unbelievable.’

‘Is it, much? You’ve been on the inside, you know exactly how bad things might get. Some of the world’s problems require radical thinking. James knows it’s in our country’s best interests in the long run. You should trust him more.’

‘I want no part in it.’

Rosie sighed. ‘You know, things could’ve been quite different for you. You could’ve become one of the most talked about people on the planet. Anyway, that’s the offer. Think on it for a while. I’ll come back later.’

‘Later when?’

‘Tonight. There is one more thing, Ellie. There’s no easy way to say this, but I’ve been instructed to warn you about it. You’ve seen what the Rendering can do, you know what happened to Morgan in there. I’m afraid that if we can’t reach a satisfactory resolution, my employer reserves the right to inflict similar experiences on both Lottie and Luis. You think about that.’

‘You’re a disgusting person, Rosie. Really, you are.’

She smiled, raised both hands upward slightly. ‘Well, Ellie, here’s some good news. After today, you’ll never see me again. Whatever happens, that I promise you. And for what it’s worth, I’m actually sorry we’ve made you feel this way. If things had gone exactly to plan you would’ve been happier.’

We stood looking at each other for a few seconds longer before Rosie called to the kids, saying goodbye, she’d see them soon. Bobby said goodbye politely but Sadie ignored her as Rosie turned and walked up the driveway, taking a right at the gates and walking away from the village.

For a moment everything was quiet, including the kids. Then footsteps on the gravel behind me, walking slowly. I turned to Liz Brickman, who’d walked out the front door. I was trying to stop myself from shaking. I couldn’t read her face.

‘I hope you got all that,’ I said.

I called Carolina and asked her to take the kids down to La Roda. Liz I sent away too, telling her to get as far from the village as she could, fly back to London that night, if at all possible. I had no idea whether she’d file the tape, broadcast its contents.

‘Whatever that was, I won’t be deleting it in hurry,’ she said, playing it back.
‘You can hear every word, Ellie. This has to get out. Whatever she’s on about, it’s dynamite. PM’s head of press making threats like that, it has to be broadcast.’

I
asked her not to, begged her. ‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘Keep an eye on the flat, the windows above Downing Street. Watch the blinds. I’ll let you know when.’

I watched as Carolina and the kids turned left at the gates, then I leaned against the stone wall of the house and closed my eyes. My back slid roughly down the wall but instead of letting go I pushed into it, wanting it to hurt. For ten minutes I sobbed, but not out of sadness. Anger at myself, definitely; anger at Rosie and her cohorts, too. But somewhere in those tears was gratitude; I’d been given a chance to save Lottie and Luis from something I had caused, albeit unknowingly.

I’d already what Lottie would want. She would never want me to stand by and let these people get away with it. But I couldn’t run the risk of her being left to rot in the Rendering. What Luis would say, I’d no idea.

Rosie came back at sunset, strolling back down the path as if she’d just spent a nice day at the beach. I’d not moved all afternoon, apart from to occasionally pace the driveway, mulling things over. Rosie asked me what my decision was, I told her I’d comply, come back to London with the kids. I had one condition; Lottie and Luis must come into London, and I had to meet them. Immediately.

She seemed visibly relieved. ‘You’ve made the right decision, Ellie,’ she said. ‘For everyone’s sake. I’m sure we can come to a compromise.’

The following morning I drove Bobby and Sadie back to Lisbon, we got on the plane and three hours later were driving into Downing Street. I watched the black gates close behind us. We got out of the car, a couple of the pool photographers took pictures as we walked up the two steps as the black door opened.

I’ll always wonder how the kids viewed those couple of days in quick transit, followed by two nights in Naviras. Anushka made excuses for their absence from school, some kind of vomiting bug. Journalists were too focused on James’s handling of the middle east crisis to pay any attention to my disappearance. As far as people inside Number 10 were concerned I’d just taken a couple of days out.

As we walked up the stairs into the deserted attic I turned to Anushka. ‘Where’s James?’

‘He’s in his study. He knows you’re here, and asked if you’d go down and have a word once you’re settled.’

‘Fine.’ I left the kids in Anushka’s custody and walked back down to the corridor, then down the main staircase, the photographs of all those former prime ministers staring at me. I wondered what they’d think to all this, wondered if any of them could have envisaged taking the actions my husband had. How much each of them knew all along about how the world really worked, how much they only found out long after they’d left power. Had any of them ever really been in full control, and if not, why had they kept pretending?

I walked into the PM’s private offices, past the secretaries and advisers without saying a word. I opened the door to James’s study and closed it behind me. He was standing at the large windows, looking out into the garden and Horseguards Parade behind it. He turned to me and stared, without saying a word.

‘You’ve got yourself a deal,’ I said.

‘Thankyou,’ he replied, walking over to me. He put his arms around me, I let mine hang by my side. He buried his head in my shoulder. ‘Thankyou so much, L,’ he said, his voice muffled by the material of my jacket. ‘I’m so glad you’re back.’

How should I feel, forty-two years old and unable to do anything else? Spent, an unwitting accomplice in someone else’s game? Someone who should hide away in perpetuity, until the truth finally comes out? I must accept that my life will always be defined by this; even if I live to a hundred, more than half of my life will be spent remembering what happened. Even if nobody else ever found out I’d eat myself up wondering.

That’s what I told myself that morning as I got out of bed, James already long away downstairs. I walked into the living room, the grey half-light beginning to illuminate the small space. The kids were still asleep. I woke them, gave them porridge and raspberries for breakfast and wrestled with Sadie to get her into her school uniform. As they argued about which channel to watch on the TV I walked over to the windows and looked down. The press pack were out, waiting for the Cabinet meeting due to take place later that morning. I let the blinds down halfway.

The night before, when the kids were sound asleep, James had come up to the flat. He’d showed me the video which was initially a montage of CCTV clips, the date in the bottom right-hand corner. Lottie and Luis lying in hospital beds, synaptic sensors slowly being removed by men in surgical gowns. Then transferred to new beds, where they lay unconscious. A new clip, of each of them being revived and eventually talking to medical staff. Lottie cracked a smile. Footage of them leaving the entrance to a building, wearing normal clothes, getting into a car.

Then a new video, this one shot by a phone, maybe a camera. A townhouse in a leafy street. The camera panned up to the street sign, SW5 clearly visible in its corner. It panned back down to the street as the same car pulled up. They got out, Lottie slightly unsteady on her feet. They walked up the steps to the front door, it opened and they went through. The video ended.

I asked James when I could see them. He said soon.

‘When’s soon?’ I asked.

‘Tomorrow morning,’ he said, before deleting the video. ‘First thing. Now, can we do your part of the bargain, please?’ I nodded silently and he went downstairs, and less than two minutes later returned with two men, the same doctors who’d treated me after I woke up from the Rendering in Virginia. One of them was holding a bulky hard-case, which he set down on the coffee table and opened.

‘Mrs Weeks, this won’t take a moment.’ He’d lost his friendliness since I’d met him last. ‘You won’t feel a thing.’ From inside the case he produced a contraption, shaped like a crash helmet but covered in wires.

‘We just need to put this on your head, then all you need to do is close your eyes,’ said the other man. ‘It’s going to feel a little strange, but I promise you, it won’t hurt.’

I looked at James, frightened. ‘It’ll be fine, L, just do as they say. I promise you it won’t hurt.’

‘You want to do this in here? What if the kids wake up?’

‘No, we’ll go in there.’ James stood up and opened the bedroom door. ‘Come on, L.’

I went through the door, lay down on the bed. The two men stood on either side, with James at the end looking down on me. The man told me to sit up, before putting the device around my head. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just slightly cold against my scalp. The other doctor helped me to lie back down, before pushing a button on the side of the headset. I felt a mild pulse of electricity.

I lay there for about ten seconds, feeling the hum of the device in my ears, reverberating against my skull slightly. It was a comforting feeling, and coming after days of insomnia and exhaustion almost lulled me into sleeping. Then it stopped and the man on my left helped me to sit up again. ‘All done,’ he said. ‘Thankyou for your co-operation.’

The two men detached the device from my head and left the bedroom. James remained standing there. ‘Is there any way we can fix this, L?’

‘Let’s see,’ was all I said.

‘Can I sleep in here tonight?’

‘Okay,’ I replied.

The next morning James gave me just ten minutes’ notice. Over the road in Parliament the bells in the clock tower chimed; it was a quarter to nine. I brushed Sadie’s hair, made sure Bobby had stowed his homework in his schoolbag. I made their breakfast, then Anushka came to take them to school. Off they went down the stairs, a kiss from me on both of their foreheads. I looked around the flat, watching the angle of the shadows lessen on the wall on the other side of the street. The press were out, there was Liz Brickman gearing up for her first piece to camera of the day.

James came up the stairs first. Then I heard her voice, the same high pitch, marvelling at being in Downing Street. Then his voice, gently chastising, telling Lottie she shouldn’t be so dismissive of the upholstery. I looked at James, his face grey as he stood to one side so Lottie could climb slowly up the staircase.

‘Ellie, you’ve got one of my paintings on the wall. You could’ve picked a nicer one than that, darling.’

I couldn’t speak. I just walked forward and embraced her. She seemed thinner, frailer. She wasn’t in Casa Amanhã, that might have explained why she seemed reduced, had less of a presence. She was in my world for the first time.

Then he came up the stairs. He’d been standing halfway up, uncertain. He didn’t know whether or not to walk up to me. I couldn’t help it, a tear escaped from my eyes and I wiped it away quickly. It was clear neither of them knew what’d happened. I envied them that.

‘Luis.’ I couldn’t say anything else.

‘It’s smaller than I expected,’ he said.

‘It’s bigger than you think,’ I replied.

James coughed. ‘Right, we need to go through the next few steps in this,’ he said.

I walked over to the windows, pulled the cord on the blinds so it came down half-way. ‘Lottie, Luis, I know you don’t remember much about what’s happened, and it’s going to take a long time to explain it.’

‘Well, it’s probably best if I do most of the explaining, L,’ said James.

I walked over to the coffee table and picked up the remote control. ‘I think we can let someone else do the talking, actually, James.’ I turned on the TV, to the channel I’d selected earlier.

There was Rosie, standing in the driveway of Casa Amanhã. She was talking to me, my back to the camera. Lottie, Luis, James and I stood there and listened to every word.

I turned to James. ‘Well on that note, we’ll be leaving. Goodbye James.’ I gestured to Lottie and Luis for them to head down the stairs. Lottie obviously understood enough about what had happened to give James an imperious look as she turned to the staircase.

James was shaking. ‘Do you have any idea what you’ve done.’

‘No, I don’t, James. We’re all about to find out,’ I said, following Luis down the stairs and casting a quick look at Lottie’s painting. Should I take it? No, I decided to leave it where it was, to send a message to the next occupants of the attic.

Anuskha was waiting for me just inside her office, the door half closed. When she saw me coming down the staircase she opened the door wide and Bobbie and Sadie came bursting out, Bobby shouting Lottie’s name in surprise. The kids went first down the main staircase. They thought they were going to school, albeit a bit late. Anushka accompanied Lottie, who was making derogatory remarks about the photos of previous prime ministers. Luis and I brought up the rear. We made such a noise, our six pairs of feet on the stairs. For the first time I truly didn’t care.

As we walked down I turned to Luis. ‘Please, tell me. There was a hole behind the painting in Room Seven, wasn’t there?’

He looked remorseful. ‘There was, but I got rid of it.’

I wanted to stop on the stairs but there was no time. Gripping the handrail as I stepped down I turned to look at him. ‘Why?’

‘I wanted to forget,’ he said. ‘I tried so hard to forget about it. I went back to Casa Amanhã a few days after you left, and I filled it in. I didn’t want you to have to see it, whenever you came back. I thought it’d help us both, to start again.’

We reached the ground floor, turning left into the main hallway. People were coming out of their offices. Shock and outrage? Sympathy or contempt? I knew many of them would lose their jobs but I couldn’t focus on that, I was still trying to take in Luis’s words. It hadn’t been me who crashed the Rendering at all; ultimately it had been him.

Nobody tried to stop us as we walked towards the black door as it opened inwards. We were dazzled as we stepped outside, first by the sunshine and then by the flashes of dozens of camera bulbs. Bobbie and Sadie stood in the street, expecting there to be a car for us, presumably. I went up to them and held out a hand for each of them. I turned to Lottie and Luis. ‘Come this way, I said, gesturing to the TV crews on the other side of the street.

Liz Brickman was facing away from us, still broadcasting. Someone must’ve told her in her ear that we were approaching. ‘And I’m joined now by Ellie Weeks, who I believe will make a short statement.’

I looked at her, trying to convey gratitude with nothing but my eyes, before turning and looking straight into the camera.

‘We’re all leaving now, and whatever people will say about how this has happened, or why, I just need to say two things. Too many people in there, and out there, keep things in, hold things back. They don’t speak out when they know they should, and I’m afraid I’ve played my part in that. Finally, I don’t just ask for our privacy to be respected. I will insist on it.’

I turned left, beckoning the others to follow me up the street. Reporters were shouting further questions at me, but I ignored them and kept walking, Bobbie and Sadie holding my hands. We walked up to the gates. I could see Rav on the other side of them. The police didn’t know what to do. Rav shouted at them to open the gates. We stopped, I turned to the police, then back to the gates. Nobody moved. Then they started to slide back. Police on the outside pushed back the tourists, government workers, passers-by.

When the gates were half open we walked around them and into Whitehall, where I could see a dozen journalists running down from Parliament. People in buildings on the other side of Whitehall were staring out of the windows, some were coming outside. Big Ben started to chime. Rav had flagged two black taxi cabs, he and Anushka got into the rearmost one as I opened the door to the closer one, making sure Lottie got in first, then the kids. The reporters were nearing us, struggling to get past the people being held by the police on the other side of the entrance. Luis got into the taxi. I couldn’t see the clock tower but I could still hear Big Ben. Nine o’clock.

I looked down at Luis, who still had one foot on the pavement, urging me to get in. I smiled. ‘Shall we start again, then?’