Ma was right – I didn’t want to talk about things with him because I knew I’d end up making a complete idiot of myself. But I also didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But . . . but . . . Ugh! What I needed was to put Luc Donovan right out of my head.
Maybe cancelling dinner would’ve been the best option. The truth was, I wanted to see him. In fact, the thought of spending a whole evening with him was enough to make me almost dizzy with anticipation. I was disgusted with myself for being such a slave to my emotions. Despite all that, I needed to talk with him about helping Lou and her family. That girl had done me a serious favour and I needed to repay her kindness. Plus, I liked her and I was sure Luc would too.
But I could sort all that out later, because right now I had the more important and impossible task of trying to decide what I was going to wear tonight.
Chapter Six
Jamie
The Boscombe guards opened the heavy iron gates, nodding respectfully to Mr Carter as he drove in. He wound down the window and slipped something into one of the guard’s hands.
It had been years since Jamie had last been here. It had always been a bit rougher than the Charminster 'pound. A place you really had to watch your back. Last time he’d visited, it had ended disastrously. He’d been seeing this girl, but her old man had caught them and gone ballistic. Apparently Jamie wasn’t good enough for his little girl. He was some kind of big shot around here and he’d had Jamie thrown out of the 'pound, threatening to shoot him if he ever returned.
It was a shame, because the girl was fit and had a swanky little apartment right above a bar. They’d had a good thing going until they’d been caught. Later, Jamie
came to the reluctant conclusion
that the girl probably hadn’t even liked him. She was just a spoilt brat who’d shacked up with him purely to annoy her old man. Well, her plan had worked. That was about five years ago, so he wasn’t too worried that the father would remember him. Anyway, by now the girl was probably married to someone suitably boring and respectable with half-a-dozen sprogs.
Jamie sighed. These sorts of things seemed to happen to him wherever he went. But not anymore. No. He was going to be a lot more careful and a lot more . . .
thoughtful
about things. Maybe he should go against his natural urges for a change. Maybe he should forget about the cute girl who had told him to meet her here. Instead, he should see if this Carter bloke was legit. Maybe the man could set Jamie up with a proper place to live. A job even. Somewhere safe to lay his head at night. Pity; the girl he’d arranged to meet was prettier than a nugget of silver and Jamie was sure they would have enjoyed each other’s company; for a while at least.
Mr Carter parked the vehicle in the vast parking lot. Jamie eased himself out of his seat and gingerly tested his bad leg, putting weight on it. Yeah – still hurt really bad. Man that sun was hot already, its rays glinting off hundreds of abandoned car roofs. Jamie scratched at his beard for the umpteenth time. He was pretty certain he had lice again.
‘I have a good friend who lives here,’ Mr Carter said, getting out of the vehicle. ‘I’m sure she would very much like to see you. Would you like to meet her, Jamie?’
Jamie stared at the man. What was he talking about –
a friend
? How should
he
know if he’d like to meet her? He didn’t even know who she was or what she did.
‘Um.’ Jamie stared blankly at Mr Carter. Then he remembered his new resolution to take a chance on the man. ‘Er, yeah, okay.’
‘Splendid.’
Maybe this friend was another member of Mr Carter’s God squad. She was probably going to try and brainwash him or something. Well, bring it on. He could do with a bit of brainwashing. God knows there wasn’t much inside his head worth hanging onto.
They walked through the car park and up to the inner doors, which opened automatically before they even reached them. Carter had influence here; that much was obvious.
Jamie struggled to keep pace with the shorter man. His leg had almost seized up now and he could no longer bend it at the knee. He felt a wave of dizziness and nausea sweep over him, but gritted his teeth and kept going. He wasn’t sure enough of Mr Carter’s motives and he worried that if he saw how weak Jamie was, he wouldn’t bother with him anymore. The last thing Jamie wanted was to pass out on the 'pound floor and be left for dead. He’d be picked clean in seconds, and the guards would sling him outside without any thought for his well-being.
Houses, people and various livestock flashed past Jamie’s field of vision, but he couldn’t focus properly. He could hardly see where he was going. The sun beat down on his damp forehead and beads of sweat slipped into his eyes. Mr Carter’s back had become a hazy shape ahead of him, but Jamie was determined to hold onto the image. To not let it fade to black. The 'pound noises were nothing but a dull roar in his ears. A merging of voices, barking, the clatter of hooves and the banging and crashing of manual labour. Distant echoes.
‘Here we are,’ Mr Carter said, his voice clear and close, grounding Jamie, giving him something to anchor himself to.
‘Where’s here?’ Jamie croaked.
‘A place for you to rest while I go about my business.’
Sounded good. Jamie leant against the brick wall of the house he found himself in front of. He forced his eyes to focus on his surroundings. They were in an empty side street, the usual garbage smell hung in the air made worse by the heat. The buildings were run-down, crumbling and black with grime. Dark, dirty windows stared down at him, greying curtains at their sides. Nothing new here. Nothing to make his heart sing.
The door opened and Jamie straightened up, shuffling closer to Mr Carter. A middle-aged woman stood in the doorway. Middle-aged? Jamie laughed to himself. She was probably about the same age as him. Did that make
him
middle-aged? God, how depressing.
‘I’ve brought you a present, Miriam,’ Mr Carter said. ‘He’s on temporary loan. See what you can do with him. I think his leg is damaged.’
‘He’s a sorry-looking one,’ she agreed. ‘But I’ll do what I can.’
‘I know you will.’
‘What’s going on?’ Jamie asked, his voice still thick and slow. ‘Who’s she?’
‘
She
, is Miriam. You will be polite to her at all times.’
‘What do you mean, I’m ‘on loan’?’ Jamie asked, panic rousing him from his dizzy spell.
‘In you go,’ Mr Carter said. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow or the day after, by which time, Miriam will have worked her magic.’
‘Come straight through,’ the woman said in a no-nonsense kind of voice. Jamie was bigger and stronger than her, but she didn’t seem at all afraid of him. She had one of those teacher-ish voices – half kind, half condescending. Jamie followed her through into a blissfully cool hallway with a tiled floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Mr Carter had gone. Well, whatever this place was and whoever this Miriam woman turned out to be, it couldn’t be any worse than outside. Could it?
She led him into a plain room with bare plaster walls. Jamie took it all in – the desk, the wooden chair, a metal cabinet and a high bed, the kind that doctors used to use in the old days.
‘Can you remove your trousers and get up on the bench for me?’ Miriam asked, handing him a small cotton sheet.
‘What? Why?’ Jamie held onto the top of his trousers, at the same time realising how ridiculous he must look.
‘You have a bad leg and I’m a doctor,’ she said. ‘Use the sheet to cover yourself if you’re embarrassed.’
‘A doctor? Really?’
‘Would you like to see my credentials? I qualified over twenty years ago and I’ve had plenty of practice since then.’
‘Erm, nah, that’s okay.’ Jamie figured he could easily overpower her if she tried any funny stuff. As long as she didn’t pull a gun on him. He wrapped the proffered sheet around his waist, lowered his trousers and levered himself up onto the table, wincing as he was forced to put pressure on his bad leg.
Miriam was of a medium build with a nondescript face and short mid-brown hair graying at the temples. But she had full lips and wasn’t completely unattractive. As she prodded and poked at his flesh, Jamie wondered what he was even doing here in this strange house with this odd woman.
‘What happened to you?’ she asked.
‘There was a woman in an AV. She knocked me over and drove off.’
‘No breaks,’ she said after a minute or so of checking. ‘And luckily for you, no femur or tibia fractures.’
‘It feels really bad,’ Jamie said. ‘Are you sure it’s not broken?’
‘You wouldn’t be so calm if it was. You wouldn’t have been able to walk here either.’ She pressed the outside of his lower leg and Jamie yelled out in pain. ‘
Localised
swelling,’ she said. ‘Looks like you may have fractured your fibula.’
‘Fractured my what?’
‘Fibula. But it’s nothing to worry about. Get cleaned up first and then I’ll strap an ice pack on your leg.’
‘You have ice packs?’
‘We’re lucky here. God provides.’
Not normally he doesn’t
, Jamie thought.
‘In the room next door you’ll find a shower, some soap, a toothbrush and a towel. When you’re dry, use the powder on the shelf. It’s good for getting rid of lice. I’ll be back in a minute with a nightshirt and some clean clothes.’
A bathroom? Clean clothes? Was he dreaming?
And a
toothbrush
? Jamie hadn’t seen a toothbrush for years. He’d always used twigs whenever he could be bothered.
‘Are you hungry?’ Miriam asked.
Normally his standard reply to this was a big fat
yes
. But on the way here, Mr Carter had let him eat his fill of bread and fresh fruit – way more food than he normally ate in one sitting. ‘I’m okay thanks,’ he said. ‘Maybe later.’
‘Fine. Come back and see me when you’re clean. I’ll dress your cuts and put that ice pack on your leg.’
Jamie felt a flicker of some long-forgotten feeling. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his shoulders had begun to relax and that constant tight feeling around his head eased ever so slightly. Maybe it was because someone else was looking after him, worrying about his well-being. He hadn’t figured out why they were doing it yet. He didn’t buy into all that Christian charity crap. In his experience, no one did something for someone else without getting something in return. Not these days anyway. But for now, Jamie was going to get on board with it. He was going to pretend that everything was okay, that these people only had his best interests at heart. He would get cleaned up, rest, allow his leg to heal, eat his fill and then decide what to do later.
Chapter Seven
Riley
Luc’s mother, Rita, opened the front door. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a pair of glasses perched on her nose.
‘Hi, you. Come on in quick, it’s freezing out there.’
‘Hi, Rita. How are you?’ I stepped inside and rubbed at my arms.
‘Yeah, not bad. We’re off out so you and Luc can eat in peace without Eddie hovering around you like an old woman.’
‘I heard that.’ Eddie’s voice wafted through from one of the back rooms.
‘You were meant to,’ Rita called back. ‘Give me your coat, Riley. I’ll hang it up.’
I shrugged off my parka and handed it to her. ‘Thanks.’
‘Luc’ll be down in a minute. His shift finished later than planned. We’re short staffed what with this flu bug thing that’s going round. He’s just having a shower. He’s exhausted, bless him.’
‘We can always make it another night,’ I said.
‘No, no. It’s good for him to unwind. He’s been looking forward to you coming over.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘If you’re sure.
She smiled, wrapping a patterned scarf around her neck and loosening her hair from its bun.
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Before I forget, have you got any flour? Ma wants to bake a cake. She said she’d give you all a piece each.’
‘Oh, yum. Your mother’s cakes are spectacular. Ask Luc to give you a cupful. It’s in the larder.’ She took off her glasses and set them on the side.
‘Oh, that’s brilliant. Thanks. Ma’ll be really pleased.’
Rita smoothed my hair absent-mindedly. ‘Good. Well, we’re going now, so will you be okay waiting for Luc? He shouldn’t be long.’
‘Hello, Riley.’ Eddie popped his head around the door. ‘Come on, Rita. We’re going to be late.’
‘I was waiting for
you,
’ she said. ‘See you, Riley.’
‘Bye, Rita. Eddie.’
The front door slammed and I slid down onto the battered kitchen sofa to wait for Luc. Footsteps creaked on the floorboards above and I chewed the corner of my thumb, trying to quell my butterflies. Before too long, I heard him coming down the stairs and my nerves intensified.
He walked into the kitchen, wearing jeans and a navy sweatshirt, rubbing at his newly-cropped hair with a towel. I stood up and he almost jumped a mile high, bashing his hip on the corner of the table.
‘Ow! God, I didn’t see you,’ he said.
‘Sorry,’ I said, laughing.
‘Glad I amuse you. You almost gave me a heart attack. When did you get here?’
‘Sorry, haven’t been here long. Your mum and dad left a couple of minutes ago.’
‘Yeah, I heard the front door slam. You okay? Hungry?’
‘Starving,’ I lied. Food was the furthest thing from my mind.
‘It’s only veggie soup and bread,’ he said. ‘Sorry it’s not more fancy. We’ve got stuff, but Mum’s rationing.’
‘That’s okay. Soup’s great and I haven’t had bread in a while.’
‘Luc draped the towel over one of the kitchen stools, turned another stool to face me and sat down. I sank back into the sofa, slipped my trainers off and brought my feet up underneath me.
‘So what happened today at the 'pound?’ he asked, running a hand over his damp hair. ‘Everyone’s going on about it, but only you and Johnny were actually there. Spill, Culpepper.’
I grinned. ‘What’s it worth?’
‘I’m making you dinner, aren’t I?’
‘Oh, Yeah. Okay then. Well, it was pretty full on. It just kicked off without warning.’
While Luc heated up the soup, I sliced some bread and proceeded to tell him about the queues and how it had all turned ugly once people realised there were no provisions left to trade for. Luc tipped the contents of the pan into two bowls and we carried them across to the kitchen table.
‘I’ve never known it this bad before,’ Luc said, sitting down and blowing on a spoonful of soup. ‘It’s Grey’s fault. His army ransacked the area. So now everyone’s hoarding. At least you got out of there okay.’
‘Only because of Lou.’
‘Who?’
‘Lou. She lives outside the compound. She got me out of there when people started shooting the place up. Nice soup by the way. Did you make it yourself?’
‘Yeah, I did actually. I made it this morning. Thanks. Did you say she lives
outside
the compound? A gypsy helped you out? It’s usually the other way around. They usually help themselves, not others.’
‘Well, Lou was really nice.’
‘Hmm.’
I looked up at his
sceptical
tone. ‘What are you ‘hmming’ about?’
‘I’ve dealt with the gypsies before. And not to be prejudiced or anything . . . they don’t usually help people out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s usually about what
you
can do for them.’
‘Lou isn’t like that,’ I replied. ‘After it all kicked off, she came back to see if I was okay and then when I couldn’t find Pa, she told me she’d get me out. Once we got back to her camp, she got in trouble with this guy called Reece for helping me . . .’
‘Who?’ Luc’s eyes narrowed.
‘Reece – one of the gypsies. He had a go at her for showing me their route out of the compound. Anyway, I said I’d see if I could find Lou some fuel. She’s got two younger brothers and . . .’
‘There you go,’ Luc interrupted.
‘What?’
‘You said you’d get her some fuel. She helped you out so she could get some fuel.’
‘No. It wasn’t like that. She didn’t say she’d get me out of there for a price. She helped me and I offered afterwards.’
‘Well, of course she wouldn’t say that. She’d have to be a bit subtle about it.’
I tore off a piece of bread and started chewing. ‘Not everyone’s out for themselves. Some people can be kind without wanting something in return.’
Luc didn’t reply, but I could tell he didn’t agree with me. I also had the feeling he was being antagonistic on purpose. Like he was spoiling for a fight.
‘Well,’ I continued, ‘whether or not you believe me, I want to help her. I’m going to try and get her some firewood or kelp or whatever. Anyway, even if she had helped me out for a price – which she didn’t – that’s not so bad, is it?’
‘Do you think she’d give you
her
supplies if you needed them? Course she wouldn’t.’
‘She’s not asking for charity. She’s willing to trade.’
‘What? Some jewellery made from old stones I bet, or a palm reading where she tells you you’ll meet a tall handsome stranger. That won’t feed you or keep you warm in winter. It’s junk and lies, Riley. Not worth anything. And she knows it.’
I knew if Luc met Lou, he’d see she wasn’t like that at all, but talking about her only seemed to make him irritated. ‘She helped me out, Luc. She probably saved my life.’
‘You can look after yourself, Riley. You were armed and Johnny was close by. Nothing would have happened.’
‘You weren’t there. You didn’t see what it was like.’
‘She knew there’d be something in it for her if she helped you. I bet you gave her something didn’t you. Tipped her off that you were wealthy.’
My cheeks reddened as I remembered the jar of honey and the dried peas. Both worth a fortune by anyone’s standards.
‘I knew it! What did you give her?’ He grinned.
‘Nothing much.’
Luc rolled his eyes. He wasn’t normally so mean. I didn’t know what had got into him.
‘So basically you think I’m a gullible idiot. Is that it?’
He softened his grin. ‘Course not. I just think you were played a bit.’
‘Cheers.’ I scowled and stood up. This evening hadn’t gone at all how I’d expected. I thought we’d have a laugh and that there’d be the usual bit of banter tinged with expectation. I’d even stupidly thought that something might happen between us. But it was obvious to me now that we were way past that. He thought I was naïve and stupid.
‘Calm down, Riley. I’m not having a go.’
‘Well, it sounds like it.’
‘I’m not.’ A smile still played on his lips and it made me mad as hell.
‘It’s late. I should go home.’
‘It’s not late. We haven’t had pudding yet.’
‘I’m full up, but thanks.’
‘You’re sulking,’ he said. ‘Because I disagreed with you.’
He was right, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Anyway, it was more than sulking – it was disappointment. It was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was my heart breaking just a little, because I felt like I was losing him. Like he was pushing me away. He’d always been sweet to me and had faith in me. Trusted my judgement. Tonight he was being antagonistic on purpose.
‘I’m fine, Luc. Not sulking, just tired.’ I wanted to ask him why he’d even invited me over here tonight if he was going to act this way. But I didn’t have the energy.
‘Okay.’ He stood and scraped his chair back. ‘Well, I guess I’ll see you . . .’
‘Yeah. Night.’ I turned and headed for the door feeling unsteady on my feet. My eyes brimmed with unshed tears and I prayed to God I could keep them at bay until I left the house.
‘Riley,’ Luc called after me. ‘Riley . . . You okay?’ His voice had lost that mocking edge and I heard the old Luc in there. But it was too late. I was too upset.
‘Fine,’ I called back without turning around. ‘Night, Luc. Thanks for supper.’
I grabbed my coat off the hook and stumbled out through the front door. What just happened? We hadn’t really argued and he hadn’t said anything truly horrible to me. So why was I feeling like the world just ended? But it wasn’t what he’d said, it was the way he’d said it, like I annoyed him. He’d been condescending, treating me like a naïve little girl. Like I didn’t know how the world worked. Like he didn’t really even like me anymore.
I pulled up my hood and shoved my hands deep into my parka pockets as I walked slowly back down Luc’s driveway, toward his front gate. I half hoped he’d come running after me, but by this time I was crying and I definitely did not want him to see my tears. All I wanted now was to throw myself on my bed and sob like a child. What had happened back there? Nothing really. So why did I feel so awful?
I turned into the deserted road, and trod carefully so as not to fall flat on my backside on the ice. That would be the perfect ending to a crappy day. Half a minute later and I was walking in through my own front door.
‘That you, Riley?’ Ma’s voice came at me from the kitchen.
‘Yeah. I’m tired. Going to bed.’
‘You okay?’
Her voice sounded closer. Oh no, she was obviously coming to see if I was alright. What if she saw my tears? The last thing I wanted was a heart-to-heart with my mother about why Luc Donovan was being a dick.
‘I’m fine,’ I called, quickening my pace and heading up the stairs two at a time. ‘Just tired.’
‘Want some tea?’ she called up the stairs at my retreating back.