The Disappearances (12 page)

But today, the conversation was about one thing only: the welcome ceremony. The joining ceremony that would also be Evie’s wedding. The dress that she would wear on the day, that she would continue to wear at all celebrations until she got pregnant, when another dress would be made for her for after the birth, signalling that she had entered yet another stage of life.

‘Your dress is nearly ready,’ one of the older women, Sandra, said with a smile. ‘You’re going to look so pretty.’

Evie blushed. ‘It’s ready?’ she said, trying to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. ‘I hope it didn’t take much time.’

‘No time at all. My daughter doesn’t need hers any more, not now she’s got a baby. I just added some ribbons and took it in a bit. For someone who lived in the City you haven’t got much fat to you.’ It was the sort of comment that City women would have made sharply, critically. But Sandra smiled indulgently as she spoke and Evie let the warmth envelop her as she always did in this room. ‘Here, try it on,’ she said, handing it to Evie.

Evie looked at it, tried to imagine herself wearing it, tried to picture herself happily making her marriage vows. Then she put it down again. ‘Maybe I’ll try it on at lunch break,’ she said, falteringly. ‘Don’t want to eat into working time.’

Sandra shrugged. ‘You’ve certainly got a work ethic for someone who’s grown up with plenty,’ she said with a little smile.

‘And how is the baby?’ another woman, Kathy, asked Sandra suddenly, much to Evie’s relief.

Sandra smiled in delight. ‘Just perfect. Adorable little thing,’ she gushed and the other women cooed.

‘How old is he now? Nine months? Won’t be long till his Welcome,’ Kathy said, shaking her head and exhaling loudly. ‘Time goes so fast, doesn’t it?’

‘Too fast,’ Sandra agreed, as she put down a farming glove and started mending another.

Babies were commonplace in the Settlement but they were still greeted with great excitement and love. Each child was officially welcomed into the Settlement as soon after their first birthday as possible; this was why the Welcome Ceremony was held, to bind these children – along with any new recruits – to the Settlement. Two were held every year. Evie and Raffy had attended one already as onlookers as new joiners had to wait a year before formal acceptance was possible. Nevertheless, the ceremony had left tears in Evie’s eyes; it was so full of hope, so full of love, so different from the City where strangers were feared, where children were seen as inferior creatures that needed to be rid of their innate evil, needed to undergo the New Baptism, then moulded and coerced into being good citizens.

‘So,’ another woman, Lucy, said suddenly. ‘When do we think it’s going to rain? Soon? Let’s hope it’s soon.’

It had been two weeks without rain; not enough for people to worry too much, but enough to make the weather a hot topic of conversation. No rain meant crop failure; crop failure meant the Settlement going hungry. The Settlement was on the river Humber, but the water had dried up years ago. Instead, the Settlement relied on rainwater collected and stored in large reservoirs. And rainwater needed regular topping up.

‘It’ll rain soon enough,’ Sandra said immediately. She was the mother of the group, always ready to reassure, to offer words of wisdom.

‘That’s easy to say,’ Lucy replied. ‘But what if it doesn’t?’

‘It will,’ Sandra said, her voice firmer this time. ‘Let’s not worry unduly shall we? Doesn’t Benjamin warn us that worrying out loud can lead to contagion of thought? That if we are going to spread our thoughts, they should be full of positivity and hope?’

‘Well, that’s all very well but we all know that we wouldn’t be so dependent on the rain if the water didn’t just run away to feed the City.’

It was a far-fetched accusation that Benjamin regularly countered, but which people clung to because it gave them a focus for their anger and resentment when the rain didn’t come. But as with most rumours there was some truth to the story: the City had built several dams to shore up its own water supply, blithely starving all the surrounding settlements of the water they needed to survive.

Evie reddened as she always did when her former home was mentioned, as though she were somehow responsible for it. She hadn’t known about the dams until she’d arrived at the Settlement; had had no idea that the City was so ruthless, so focused on the needs of its own people to the exclusion of everyone else. She knew that people wanted to live within the City walls, but had always been taught that it was salvation people wanted, a chance to live in a world without evil. In reality, it was because the City had made sure that resources were scarce for any other township in the country.

‘Lucy,’ Sandra said, a note of warning in her voice.

‘What? It’s true isn’t it?’ Lucy said defiantly.

There was a short silence as the women, sitting on wooden chairs in a semi-circle, digested this.

‘They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it,’ Carlotta, a short woman with dark hair, dark eyes and a stout, strong body, agreed eventually. ‘Who gives them the right to dam every river? Who?’

Lucy nodded vigorously. ‘Exactly. Benjamin should do something. It’s all very well being people of peace, but when people are stealing from us—’

‘That’s enough,’ Sandra said then, standing up. She looked around the circle. ‘Are you happy living here?’ she asked Lucy. ‘Is there anywhere else you’d like to go?’

Lucy shook her head.

‘And do you believe that Benjamin is a fine leader, who has looked after us so far, who has devoted himself to our well-being?’

Lucy nodded and looked at the floor.

‘Good,’ Sandra said, sitting down again. ‘Don’t ever talk like that about him again in this room, do you here? And don’t make Evie here uncomfortable, either. We’re fine. It’ll rain. Okay? It’ll rain.’

As she spoke, the skies around them darkened and a clap of thunder made them jump; moments later, rain began to lash against the windows. Sandra smiled triumphantly.

‘Nice trick,’ Kathy said with a giggle. ‘You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?’

Sandra shrugged, a little smile on her face. ‘I might have noticed a few dark clouds this morning,’ she said lightly.

The women sewed for a few more minutes, then Kathy looked over at Evie. ‘Don’t suppose you had to worry about being hungry when you were in the City, did you?’

Evie shook her head, warily. People didn’t go hungry in the City, it was true, but that didn’t mean they were happy. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘But I’d rather be here and hungry than there with all the food in the world.’

Kathy’s face creased in curiosity. ‘It was really that bad?’ she asked. ‘Don’t you sometimes think about going back?’

Evie shook her head vehemently. She’d already told them about the labels, about the strict rules about who you could talk to, who you could be friends with, about the System, about K’s being left outside the City walls for the Evils to attack. But many of her new friends found it hard to believe; they had always known the City as the land of plenty, the land of the good, the lucky, and Evie could tell that sometimes they weren’t convinced that her tales were entirely truthful.

‘I never want to go back,’ she said, her voice catching slightly. ‘The City had food and water and homes for everyone. But it was also a place where everyone lied, where a System labelled people unfairly, where people were told they would have a future and instead were subjected to brain surgery that took their whole lives away. I never want to go back there.’

‘You’d really rather starve to death?’ Lucy asked, her eyebrows raised pointedly.

‘Lucy, no one is going to starve. It’s raining, isn’t it? Leave the girl alone,’ Sandra said, her voice sounding a little strained.

Lucy tutted.

‘Acceptance, love, learning and hope,’ Sandra said gently. ‘That’s what this place is all about. Evie, please don’t listen to Lucy. She’s just having a bad day. Aren’t you, Lucy? Probably got to breakfast late. Thought she’d have a lie-in and now she’s regretting it. Right?’

Lucy opened her mouth to protest, then laughed. ‘Okay, you got me,’ she said.

‘Now,’ Sandra said. ‘If I’m not mistaken, it’s almost lunch. Evie, let’s get you into this dress of yours, shall we? Let’s see just how lovely you’re going to look.’

‘Hey, Wajid. How are things?’

Wajid stared at Thomas insolently; looked over at the prison guard. ‘They’re shit,’ he said. ‘What’s it to you?’

It was an adopted name, one he’d been given when he’d found salvation, when he’d stumbled across a group of lads in prison who’d listened to him, understood him, protected him. That was ten years ago now; he’d been to prison four times since. But this time he wasn’t getting out for good behaviour. This time he was going to rot in there and he didn’t need some stranger turning up to gloat.

Thomas leant back in his chair. ‘What’s it to me, Wajid, is that I’m not happy about your treatment in here. And I’m not happy about the length of your sentence either.’

‘My sentence?’ Wajid leant towards Thomas, his eyes flashing. ‘What do you know about me and my sentence? Who the fuck are you anyway?’

He held Thomas’s gaze for a few seconds, then sat back on his chair to survey him properly. It was the third time he’d visited, this strange man who looked like a nerd but wore expensive clothes. The third time he’d asked Wajid stupid questions, pointless questions, before getting up and going. Like Wajid was some kind of entertainment. Like he was some kind of joke. Never a surname, either – just ‘Thomas’, like he was a friend or something.

Thomas didn’t blanch under Wajid’s scrutiny. ‘I’m someone who can help you,’ he said. ‘But if you don’t want my help, if you’re happy in here, then that’s fine. I’m evidently wasting my time.’

Wajid slammed his fist down on the table. He was sick of this. Sick of playing games. ‘You tell me what you’re doing here,’ he said. ‘Tell me now. Who sent you? Who are you really working for?’

The prison guard walked over. ‘Everything all right over here?’ he asked.

Thomas nodded quickly. ‘It’s okay, officer. It’s okay.’

The guard moved away slowly.

Thomas looked at Wajid carefully. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m part of a network. A network that can help you. Help you get out of here.’

Wajid’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t fuck with me.’

Thomas laughed. ‘No, Wajid. No escapes. I’m talking about judges reviewing your sentence. I’m talking about compensation being awarded for a miscarriage of justice. I know you’re not a terrorist, Wajid. I know that you’re just sick of all the injustice in the world. Sick of the wrong people running the show. Sick of not having a proper voice.’

Wajid didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

‘And why would you think that?’ he asked eventually.

Thomas leant forward again. ‘Because I know you,’ he said under his breath, only just audible. ‘I know what you want because I want it too. And I think you’re the person to wake everyone up. You’ve got people, right? Disciples? People who believe in what you believe in? People who will do what it takes?’

Wajid’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t saying nothing. This was most likely a trap, and he wasn’t falling for it. No way.

‘You don’t trust me yet and that’s fine. I wouldn’t expect you to. But just wait and see what I can do. I’ll get you out of here. And then I’ll give you what you need,’ Thomas said. ‘You choose the targets; I’ll make sure your people get where you want to go. You just need to line them up, point them in the right direction. Can you do that? Can you do that, Wajid?’

‘You think I’m stupid?’ Wajid said, sitting back, disdain on his face. ‘You’re talking a load of crap. Setting me up. I ain’t an idiot.’

‘Nor am I,’ Thomas said, moving his hands forward, slipping a pin to Wajid, a pin with the letter ‘I’ on it. Wajid frowned; he’d seen it before somewhere. The prison guard cleared his throat and immediately Wajid remembered. He had one too. ‘Tonight you’ll hear about a bomb attack. That’s my people. And tomorrow your lawyer will visit you with news of new evidence. You get me a message to tell me you’re on board, and that new evidence will be compelling enough to get you out of here, to exonerate you completely. You don’t, and you’re going to rot here. Understand?’

The pin disappeared into Wajid’s sleeve in a deft sleight of hand. He stared at Thomas for a few seconds. ‘Those things happen, then maybe,’ he said, standing up. ‘They don’t, and you’d better watch yourself. I still got friends outside.’

‘That’s what I’m relying on.’ Thomas winked as he stood up. ‘Goodbye, Wajid. Until we meet again.’

Lucas looked down at Clara. It was the following morning and Clara had slept almost from the moment she’d arrived at Base Camp until now. She looked so vulnerable, lying there in the bed that Martha had made up for her. Back in the City, her parents would be frantic; there would be search parties looking for her. And she was all alone here, away from her friends and family, unable to contact them. But she was safe. Would be safe.

She opened her eyes and he started slightly. ‘Here,’ he said stiffly, handing her a bowl of cereal. ‘Have some breakfast.’

Clara took the bowl silently; he could tell that she was anxious, unsettled, unsure. He didn’t blame her.

‘This is Martha,’ he said, stepping aside so that Clara could see her. ‘She’s going to look after you here.’ His voice sounded formal; he could tell that it made her nervous but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

Clara’s eyes widened. ‘What about you?’

‘I have to go and find someone. I …’ Lucas trailed off, not sure how much to tell Clara; the truth was, he barely knew what he was doing himself. He cleared his throat. ‘I need to make sure that the Informers leave the City, that they are brought to justice. You’ll be safe here.’

Clara nodded slowly.

Martha stepped forward, sat on the bed and took Clara’s hand. ‘We’ll have fun,’ she said, her eyes twinkling. ‘You’re going to love Base Camp. And when things are ready, Lucas will come back for you and you’ll go back to the City and tell everyone the truth. Okay?’

Clara nodded eagerly, looked up at Lucas for affirm-ation. He nodded, wondering how Martha did it, how she managed to soothe, engage; how she made it look so easy.