The Perimeter (16 page)

I walked quickly, eating my lunch of fruit loaf as I went, giving myself indigestion. But when I got there, a double security detail was guarding the main gate and they wouldn’t let me inside the house.

‘I need to see Roger Brennan,’ I told Liam, one of the guards on duty.

‘I’ll get him for you,’ he said. ‘Wait here.’ He turned and disappeared into the red brick building. Two minutes later, he re-emerged with Brennan.

‘Hello, Riley,’ he said. ‘What’s the problem? I thought you were working on the wall today?’

‘I am . . . I was. But I wondered if . . .’ This wasn’t going well. He was probably only giving me the time of day because I was Johnny’s daughter.

‘Can you make it quick, Riley,’ Brennan said, not unkindly. ‘I’ve got to go up to Charminster in a minute. Their radio’s down and we haven’t been able to warn them about FJ. I could do without the trip. There’s too much to sort out here.’

‘I’ll go,’ I said. This was perfect. I had wanted to warn Lou about FJ’s approach anyway. Last time Grey’s army had come down this way, they had terrorised the gypsies and looted their camp for provisions. What if they did that again? Lou and the others wouldn’t survive the winter after another raid; they were low enough on provisions as it was. There was no way Denzil would let me ‘borrow’ a truck again, so this could be the perfect opportunity to tell them.

‘You want to go to the compound after what happened last time?’ Brennan said. ‘I heard you were caught up in the riots.’

‘It’ll be fine. I won’t go inside. I’ll just tell the guards on the gate and then I’ll come straight back.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous. No civilians allowed outside the perimeter alone.’

‘I’ll go with Denzil,’ I said, knowing that was probably the only way he would let me out of here.

‘Denzil’s busy.’

‘Liam then,’ I smiled up at the guard, who looked at Brennan for confirmation.

‘Liam’s on duty.’

‘Okay, well who can you spare?’

‘I don’t know if I can spare anyone, Riley.’

‘There must be someone. It’s not far. I can be there and back in a couple of hours. You’re needed here. It’s a simple errand. It makes sense to send me.’

‘I suppose you could go with Luc.’

Great. Of all the people he could have suggested, why him? ‘He’s busy on the wall,’ I said lamely.

‘Well so should you be, Riley,’ he said, his patience running out. ‘Look, either go with Luc or get back to work and I’ll go myself. Either way . . .’

‘Okay, I’ll go.’ Even as I said the words I was regretting them.

‘Take one of the guards’ vehicles,’ he said throwing me a set of keys. ‘Do not enter the compound, just tell them I sent you, inform the guards of the situation, turn around and drive straight home. I need you back inside the perimeter before nightfall, or your father will have me hanged. No excuses.’

‘Yep,’ I said. ‘I’ll go straight away.’

My first thought was to drive out of here without Luc. I really didn’t want to spend the afternoon in close confinement with someone who obviously couldn’t stand to be in my company. But unfortunately, there was no way Liam would have let me out of the gates alone. I had no choice but to take him with me.

‘Be careful,’ Brennan said.

‘I will.’ I turned and jogged toward the parking lot around the back of the guards’ house. My stomach clenched with nerves at the thought of spending time alone with Luc. I didn’t think he’d be too happy about it either.

Chapter Nineteen

Jamie

When Jamie awoke it was with a feeling of utter calm. Once again, there had been no nightmares. No dreams at all. This was some kind of miracle. Whatever Matthew and James Grey were selling, Jamie decided he was buying.

The other men were beginning to stir. Jamie felt a little intimidated at the thought of getting to know all these strangers. He was used to his own company. Sure, he’d spoken to other people occasionally on the outside, but it was generally safer to keep himself to himself. Of course, he hooked up with the odd girl from time to time, but that was different. Still, Jamie didn’t think he’d have to worry about ‘making friends’ here, as people didn’t speak much anyway. The guys in his dormitory certainly weren’t the chatty type – there was no small talk, chit chat, or one-liners. None of the usual blokey banter you found among big groups of men. Just the quiet shuffling of people getting dressed and the odd cough. Well that suited Jamie fine. He’d keep his eyes down and try to stay invisible.

After everyone had showered and dressed, they proceeded downstairs into a canteen-like room where there must have been a couple of hundred other men already seated at wooden tables. Jamie followed his roommates to an empty table with benches on either side. They all scooched up so there were five on each bench. Jamie found himself sandwiched between Jeremiah and a middle-aged man wearing an eye-patch.

Once all the tables in the room were filled, men came in carrying trays piled up with bowls of steaming porridge. A bowl and spoon was placed in front of Jamie and he grabbed his spoon and began to dig in. Suddenly, Jeremiah lunged for his wrist and forced his hand with the spoon back onto the table. He was surprisingly strong and Jamie had no choice but to let go of the implement.

‘What are you doing?’ Jamie asked. At first he’d thought the man was attacking him, but then he realised he was trying to stop him eating. And Jamie was starving. The last time he’d eaten was yesterday lunchtime when John had given him that bread roll. And now this porridge smelt amazing.

Jeremiah waggled his finger at Jamie and tutted, shaking his head in disapproval. Realising that no one else was eating, Jamie reluctantly nodded and mouthed the word, ‘okay’. Jeremiah gave a smug smile and patted Jamie’s shoulder.

A man at another table stood up. Everyone else bowed their heads and Jamie followed suit. The man recited a prayer out loud, thanking God and James Grey for the food they were about to eat. His voice was soft and clear. Once he was seated again, all the men began to eat.

Jamie burnt the roof of his mouth with his first spoonful, but he didn’t care. The porridge was thick and sweet and lovely. Even Jeremiah slurping and burping next to him couldn’t detract from how good it tasted. And he felt so awake and refreshed – energised for the first time in ages. All he needed was to get rid of these damn crutches and everything would be right with the world.

Once everyone had cleared their plates, all the tables began to empty except for Jamie’s. The other men filed out in silent orderly lines. The lack of chatter was still strange and a little disconcerting, but Jamie figured it was better than a load of intimidating noise and the usual fights and scuffles you came across when you found large groups of men in any one place together.

Their table would probably be the next to leave the canteen. Jamie wondered what he would be doing today. Some kind of task maybe. He quite fancied gardening. That would be a pretty nice, easy job he reckoned – weeding and hedge cutting and whatnot. He remembered, as a child, seeing someone on one of those ride-on lawn mowers. Now that’s a job he’d enjoy. Maybe you got a choice of what you could do here. He’d definitely opt for the ride-on mower job. He’d have a good chance of getting it, too, as it was a sitting down job, and what with his leg all banged up, he’d be a prime candidate for it.

Jamie’s daydream was interrupted by the arrival of several serving staff with large metal vats, which they placed in the middle of their table. They also placed large hessian sacks on the floor behind them. Jamie turned to look and saw the sack immediately behind him was full to the brim with muddy potatoes. Jeremiah reached around and plucked a spud and a knife from the sack. He pointed at Jamie to do the same. Jamie sighed. Bang went his dream of the ride-on mower – he was to be a kitchen hand, a flipping skivvy.

Out of the window, Jamie spied the other men. But not just the men from their canteen, no, it looked like there were hundreds of men all lined up in a vast courtyard. Jamie craned his neck to see further, but he couldn’t tell how far the lines stretched in either direction. Perhaps they were going to do some kind of morning exercise.

And then the men began to move away. They walked in an orderly, regular fashion – not quite marching, but almost. Each line peeled away one-by-one, leaving the courtyard to go who knew where. Maybe they were going to work in the fields.

Three hours later, Jamie’s hands were encrusted with mud, blisters and tiny cuts. He’d peeled enough potatoes, carrots, swedes, parsnips and turnips to feed the five thousand. But apart from the sorry state of his hands, he’d actually quite enjoyed getting lost in the monotony of the work. The earthy smell of the vegetables had soothed him. He reckoned he could get on board with this type of work. It was alright.

Lunchtime was a short break where they ate bread and cheese and a few raw vegetables. None of the other men returned for lunch; it was just him and his roommates. Jamie reckoned the others were probably eating in the fields and would be back for their evening meal. He was proved right – the other men did indeed return for supper and the canteen was full once more. While eating his stew, Jamie realised he’d been inside all day. He yearned to poke his nose out into the fresh air, but it didn’t look as though he was going to get the chance. He wasn’t used to spending so much time indoors. Maybe he could ask John about it. Once supper was over, Jamie cleared his throat and spoke in a loud whisper.

‘Erm, John.’

John looked up with a frown.

‘Can we go out and get some fresh air?’

John shook his head and put his fingers to his lips. Jamie felt like a child in kindergarten, but he didn’t pursue his question. Some of the men on the other tables were giving him disapproving looks and he didn’t have the courage to continue speaking.

Later, once they were back in their dormitory, John approached him.

‘You’ve done well today,’ he said. ‘You’ve worked hard. Contributed. I’m pleased.’

Jamie gave a nod.

‘Some days we work outside. Not this week though.’

‘Right,’ Jamie replied. ‘Thanks for letting me know. It’s just I’m used to . . .’

John held his hand up to silence him. Jamie stopped mid-sentence. They looked at each other for a moment and then John turned away to continue getting ready for bed. Jamie felt foolish and annoyed, but he guessed he’d have to get used to this not-speaking malarkey if he wanted to stay here. All in all it wasn’t too hard a price to pay. Was it?

It was the kind of summer that Jamie normally loved – warm and dry with the odd thundery shower. Before, when he’d lived outside, he’d always welcomed warm summer evenings and the chance for a comfortable night’s sleep, not the usual damp and chilly affair that Britain had to offer. But now, here under James Grey’s hospitality, he had an actual bed in a dry dormitory, clothing, food and safety – the weather was almost irrelevant.

It was amazing how quickly you could get used to something different. He’d been living at The Close for over a month and the days drifted into one another like clouds in an autumn sky. The routine was comforting, the quietness addictive and he’d even grown used to Jeremiah and his childish ways.

John had been true to his word and Jamie alternated his peeling and chopping duties with work outside in the kitchen garden; and this was what he enjoyed the most. There was still no sign of any ride-on mower, but Jamie was content to lose himself in the weeding, cultivating and harvesting of all the many fruits, vegetables and herbs which flourished in the well-stocked garden. Most of them he’d never heard of before, let alone tasted. Today, he was gathering herbs to dry, for use during the winter. The mingling scents of basil, mint and rosemary were making him hungry, so he stuffed a couple of mint leaves into his mouth to chew on. That should keep him going until it was time for lunch.

Jamie mused that he would probably be happy to remain here for the rest of his life. Sure, he missed certain things – alcohol, girls and privacy were his top three – but those were minor in comparison with the safe and secure life he now enjoyed. Sure, the rest of the people here were all a bit lifeless, but Jamie reasoned that it was because they had found peace. They were no longer troubled or anxious. They had found a safe place in this troubled world.

His leg was healing quickly and he had already discarded his crutches. A slight limp remained, but the doctor he’d seen last week had told him he should be walking normally within a week or two. Jamie stood and picked up his full basket to bring back to the kitchen. The sun burned the back of his neck, his throat was parched and he could do with a cup of water. As he walked, he sought out the shade of a line of sycamores, their leaves hushed in the still air.

Last week had been his naming ceremony – Jeremiah had been right about his name being changed – and now Jamie was called Jamie no longer. He didn’t miss his old name. What had it ever brought him? Nothing but misery. He had needed a fresh new name to go with his fresh new life. Jamie had thought his new name might’ve been James, but apparently there was only one James around here. Made sense he supposed. No, Jamie’s new name was now
Jacob
.

He and a handful of other men had been taken to the cathedral where James Grey had conducted the ceremony himself. It had been a humbling and emotional experience. Jamie grasped the metal cross which now hung around his neck. It had been presented to him when he’d received his new name, and Jamie treasured it. The only problem was that the chain from which it hung irritated his skin, and there was now an angry red weal around his neck which itched and burned. They weren’t allowed to remove the cross ever – not even when they went to bed – and so Jamie was forever trying to rearrange the chain so that it sat on top of his clothing, away from his bare skin. It was impossible though and the metal kept slipping back. Perhaps it was divine punishment for his sins. It was a small price to pay.

Jamie nudged open the narrow back door that led to the kitchen. Strangely, there were voices within. Inside, John was talking to two robed men. They turned to look as Jamie walked through the door, but he avoided eye contact and placed his full basket on the table, picking an empty one up and turning back around. He would forgo the cup of water for now. These men looked important and he didn’t want to hang around as they might think he was eavesdropping.

‘Jacob, wait.’

After a moment’s hesitation, Jamie realised John was addressing him. It would take him a while to get used to this new name of his. He stopped and turned.

‘Come here.’

Jamie walked toward John. He felt the men’s eyes on him and wondered what they were doing here and why John needed to speak with him.

‘This is him?’ one of the men asked John. ‘This is Jacob?’

John nodded.

‘We have spoken to the doctor and he says you are fit and well. He assures us your leg is healed. Does it trouble you at all?’ the man said to Jamie.

Jamie shook his head.

‘Good. You will come with us now.’

Jamie thought he’d misheard and remained standing when the men began to head to the door.

‘Come.’

Jamie looked at John who nodded. John’s expression was one of regret and acceptance. What did his expression mean? Why did Jamie have to leave? Perhaps it was temporary and he would be coming back. But the look on John’s face told him otherwise.

Woodenly, Jamie put one foot in front of the other and followed the two strangers out of the back door and into the sunshine. He wished he’d been brave enough to take that cup of water now. The heat was punishing and his nerves made it feel worse. The two men were silent, but Jamie wouldn’t have expected anything else. He wanted to ask where they were leading him, but his mouth remained shut, his throat dry. Besides, they wouldn’t have replied anyway.