‘Trust me,’ Lou said. ‘Your truck’ll be safe with Kee.’
I turned to him and his friend. ‘Okay.’
‘Chuck us the keys then.’
‘I’ll keep hold of them if you don’t mind.’ I didn’t trust him not to unlock the fuel cap and drain the tank.
‘Whatever,’ he replied.
‘Cab’s open though, so feel free to sit inside and warm up.’
‘Nice one.’ The two men turned and walked over to the truck, pulling a group of noisy children out from the cab and smacking their heads as they sent them on their way. This elicited a bunch of friendly swearing and rude gestures.
‘This way,’ Lou said.
I walked beside her as she led me through the chilly maze-like camp. Once again, I noticed how raggedy and skinny everyone was and I felt self-conscious in my good-quality warm clothes. The makeshift paths were hard and frosted over, but I could imagine that with a little rain they would become mud baths.
‘Here we are.’ Lou pulled back the flap on a large marquee-like structure with a tall post running up through the middle of it. It looked as though it had been constructed from animal hide and it smelt like it too. I followed her inside. Natural light filtered in from the entrance and other window-like flaps, but the air inside was thick with smoke. Thin plywood and mismatched squares of worn-out carpet dotted the muddy floor. However, the beauty of the place was that it was lovely and warm inside. A squat black wood-burning stove sat in the centre of the tent, its chimney running up alongside the central tent pole and out through the roof. An assortment of shabby chairs and cushions were strewn about the place and people sat talking in small clusters.
‘This is our gathering place,’ Lou said. ‘It’s usually the only warm place. Sometimes, on really cold nights, we sleep in here too.’
Lou led me across the marquee to a screened-off area behind the stove, where a scrawny man with weasely eyes stood in front of a patched-up wall of some kind. When he saw Lou, he grunted and told her to wait.
‘We’re here to see Reece,’ she said.
‘And I told you to wait.’
‘Fine,’ Lou replied.
As we stood in silence, I let my eyes wander further and realised that the screen was covered in charcoal and pencil drawings. They were pictures of people – faces. Mainly children.
‘What are those pictures?’ I asked Lou.
The weasely man scowled at me.
‘That’s our Lost Wall,’ Lou replied. ‘Our artists come and draw portraits on here every time someone dies or goes missing. So we’ll always remember them.’
‘So many children,’ I said, gazing at the young faces on the wall.
‘Most of them disappeared,’ Lou said, making my heart sink.
‘Recently?’
‘It’s been going on for years. Makes me scared for my Joe and Mikey. But there’s nothing any of us can do about it. We don’t know where they’ve gone. They just disappear. Reece’s younger sisters disappeared a few years ago. He doesn’t like to talk about it.
My thoughts flitted to James Grey, but now was not the time to mention him.
‘You can go in now,’ the weasely man said. I had the feeling he’d kept us waiting for no reason other than to please himself.
I followed Lou past the man and along to the end of the wall. We went around it into a large open space at the back of the marquee where Reece was sitting at a scrubbed wooden table. With him sat two men and two women, all considerably older. Reece, however, sat at the head of the table and it looked to me like he was in charge.
‘Sit down,’ he said.
Lou and I sat opposite each other on the only two free chairs. There was a long silence and I wasn’t sure if I was expected to speak. I cleared my throat to say something, but then Reece spoke.
‘Thank you for bringing the fuel,’ he said, looking directly at me. He didn’t smile and I guessed it cost him a lot to say thank you.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘But I still don’t understand why,’ he said. ‘And we want a decent explanation.’
‘It’s simple,’ I said. ‘Like I said before, Lou did me a good turn yesterday and I’m repaying the favour. We have enough fuel and I thought it would be good to have more links and co-operation between settlements.’ I hadn’t planned to say that, but it sounded good to my ears.
Reece interlinked his fingers and thought for a moment. The others looked at me with curiosity. They were all crudely dressed, but they had a certain dignity about them. A pride which shone through their rags.
‘What would you like in return?’ Reece asked. ‘If we have it to spare, we’ll give it.’
I had already had a quick think about what I would ask for. They didn’t want my charity and yet I didn’t want to ask for too much and leave them worse off. Food was scarce and so were raw materials.
‘I would like three pairs of your leather-worked boots,’ I said. ‘And a short-handled hunting knife.’
‘Done,’ Reece said. ‘But that can’t be all. You’re holding something back, I can tell.’
‘I’d also like it if Lou could come to the perimeter to give us some slingshot lessons.’
Lou choked back a cough and stared at me.
‘You want me to come to the perimeter?’ She asked the question as though I’d asked her to fly to the moon.
‘If you don’t mind. Yes. The slingshot would be good to learn. We’re too reliant on guns and ammo. Stones will never run out.’
‘Lou?’ Reece turned to her.
She shrugged. ‘I guess. Sure, why not.’
‘Great,’ I said.
‘Are those your terms of trade?’ Reece asked. ‘Or is there more?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Those are my terms.’
‘Then we’re agreed.’ He looked around the table and everyone appeared to be relieved. One of the women smiled at me and I smiled back.
‘It’s nearly noon,’ she said. ‘Would you like some broth?’
‘Yes please,’ I replied. ‘That would be lovely.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘Stay sitting. I’ll fetch it.’ The woman stood and leaned down to kiss Reece’s head. He reached up and squeezed her hand. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he said.
I was surprised. I hadn’t imagined Reece was the type of person to sit and negotiate terms with his mother present. I wondered if the other people at the table were also his family. I’d have to ask Lou later. Reece caught my eye and I realised I’d been staring at him. He smiled. The first smile I’d ever seen from him and it made him look like a different person. I returned the smile and saw Lou watching me curiously. A feeling flickered within me, but I quickly shook it off.
Chapter Twelve
Jamie
Mr Carter drove the AV across the vast courtyard and came to a halt by the far wall, under a sycamore tree. Jamie’s nerves kicked in hard, but he tried to quell the swimming feeling in his head and struggled out of the vehicle, gripping his crutches for both physical and moral support.
The two of them walked a little way, their feet ringing out across the flagstones, until Mr Carter stopped right in the centre of the courtyard in front of a row of grand red brick buildings. They were beautiful, nicer even than the houses in the Talbot Woods Perimeter, and that was saying something. They looked in good nick too, with clean windows and freshly painted doors.
So I was inside Salisbury.
This place was for real.
Jamie stood there, taking in his surroundings and feeling somewhat exposed. He glanced over his shoulder, back at the gates, unable to discern if the guards were staring at him or not. It was impossible to tell in which direction they were looking with those hoods pulled menacingly low over their faces. Jamie was surprised to realise that Mr Carter seemed a little agitated. It was the first time he’d seen him flustered.
‘Wait here,’ Mr Carter said.
Like where else was he going to go? Jamie repressed the urge to say the words out loud as he watched Mr Carter
stride off without a backward glance. After a few seconds, the man disappeared through a gap between the houses and so Jamie turned his attention back to his surroundings. The courtyard was quiet and warm. Jamie stood awkwardly, balancing self-consciously on his crutches, aware of the robed guards and wondering what kind of men hid beneath those ominous hoods. He counted six of them flanking the wooden doors, standing still as stone.
The sun hung high in the sky and it was hotter than hell. It must’ve been only a little after midday. Jamie let his eyes roam across the houses. He thought he caught a glimpse of someone’s face at a first storey window. But they moved away as soon as they saw him, so he wasn’t sure if it really had been someone, or whether it was simply a trick of the light. Would he be staying in one of those rooms? Was this place really going to become his home? He let go of one of his crutches and reached up to scratch his beard before remembering he didn’t have one anymore. He scratched at his bare chin instead. Maybe he should grow his facial hair back, he felt wrong without it.
Footsteps . . . Jamie turned to see Mr Carter returning. He had a man with him, dressed in a plain brown homespun shirt and trousers. As they approached, Jamie noticed the man’s face was badly disfigured with deep pink scars. They looked like burn marks and covered almost three quarters of his face. Only the lower quarter of his face was untouched and this made it hard to determine his age. If Jamie had to guess, he would’ve said he was quite young. No more than twenty.
‘Welcome, Jamie,’ the man said, his voice so soft that Jamie had to strain his ears to make out the words. ‘My name is John. We’re pleased you’ve decided to join us. Will you come this way.’ He began to walk off without even acknowledging or mentioning Mr Carter who was already heading back to his vehicle.
‘Uh, hi, John,’ Jamie said. ‘Thanks!’ he called after Mr Carter. His voice sounded too loud in the hushed courtyard. He thought he saw Mr Carter nod his head, but he couldn’t be sure as the man continued to walk away. These people aren’t very big on goodbyes, Jamie thought.
Swinging his crutches out in front of him, he attempted to keep up with John, who was already several yards away. The man had a bald patch on the back of his head, which was pink and pitted with more wrinkled scars. Jamie wondered what had happened to him, but he wasn’t about to ask – John didn’t seem to be the chatty sort.
They passed in front of several of the houses before cutting through a pathway which ran alongside one of the buildings. This led them into a smaller courtyard with yet more buildings. These houses were less grand than the others. Not shabby by any means, just plainer. Above the buildings, the cathedral spire was visible once more. Now he was closer, Jamie could make out more detail – darker bands ran around the grey stone and a simple cross adorned its tip.
Several boys crossed the courtyard, crunching slowly over gravel, heads bowed. They were dressed similarly to John and didn’t even glance up as they passed. Jamie, on the other hand, was gawking at everything. The whole place was spooky. It was too clean and too quiet and Jamie kept thinking he was going to put his foot in it big time. He wasn’t the most subtle person in the world. It looked like he was going to have to be on his best behaviour every minute he spent here and Jamie wasn’t sure he was up to that.
But then he remembered that he’d killed a girl. That she was haunting his sleep. That he needed this place. So he would try his best to give it a go. He would try and learn to be like John and these quiet boys who were happy to mind their own business. He could do that. Surely.
A door creaked open and several more young boys filed into the courtyard, led by an adolescent. Again, they didn’t speak and they all seemed to move with a noiseless grace, apart from the crunch of gravel beneath their feet. John led Jamie through a gap in the buildings into another alleyway. At the end, a wrought iron gate blocked their exit, but John unlocked it and they continued on. Now they were in a narrow street, lined with the backs of tall buildings. It reminded him of the street where Miriam the doctor lived. Only this alley was cleaner and fresher-smelling than back in the 'pound. This place was cared for – not a state he was used to seeing.
Jamie’s arms began to ache. He wasn’t adept at walking long distances on crutches. His throat felt scratchy and dry. ‘Have you got any water?’ he called to John.
‘Not much further,’ came the quiet response.
‘Better not be,’ Jamie muttered under his breath. ‘I’m knackered, mate.’
They crossed a grassy expanse. It was so open and green and beautiful, it made Jamie forget his tiredness and want to run across it with his arms outstretched like an aeroplane. He smiled at the thought. The scent of cut grass wafted into his nostrils making him strangely hungry – not that he wanted to eat grass. Tall trees bordered the massive park-like space, reminding him of being a child, visiting places like this with his parents. Stately homes and National Trust properties. God, he hadn’t even thought about those sorts of places in years. He remembered as a teenager being bored stiff, dragged around all kinds of historic buildings and gardens with his parents. Now here he was in some thousand-year-old Cathedral Close. But this time he wasn’t here for the sightseeing.
A square, grey-stone building came into view beyond a thin stand of trees. It looked like John was heading that way. Jamie hoped he’d have a chance to rest and eat and drink before they got on with whatever they were going to be doing here today. Come to think of it, he hadn’t really given it too much thought, and Mr Carter hadn’t exactly been clear on what the deal was. Maybe it would just be praying and stuff like that. That would be okay, he supposed.
Jamie found himself hobbling around the side of the grey-stone building and following John through a side door and into a small lobby. It was a relief to be out of the glaring sun. They slipped through another door until they reached a large hallway bisected by a wide staircase. Staying on the ground floor, they headed to the rear of the building and into a kitchen where two men were washing pots at a double sink.
A rough circular wooden table dominated the room with about a dozen mismatched chairs ranged around it. John gestured to Jamie to sit. He took a jug and two tin cups from a painted wooden dresser and joined Jamie at the table.
‘Lunch was over an hour ago, but you may have some bread if you’re hungry.’ John spoke while pouring them a cup of water each. Jamie gulped his down in three mouthfuls and John poured him some more.
‘Bread sounds good,’ Jamie said. ‘Please.’
John stood and went to a wooden box on a shelf. He lifted out a bread roll and placed it on the table in front of Jamie. ‘You may wash your hands in the sink over there.’
Jamie had thought his hands were clean enough – they were cleaner than they’d been for fifteen years, what with all the showers he’d been taking – but he did as he was asked, even though he was dying to stuff the bread roll into his mouth. He was starving.
One of the washer-uppers moved aside while Jamie self-consciously scrubbed at his hands in the soapy water. He began drying them on his trousers, but one of the men passed him a cloth, so he made a pretence at using it despite the fact his hands were pretty much dry already. Then he returned to the table and tore off a piece of the bread roll. John sat in silence while Jamie ate. Once the last crumbs had been gathered up and eaten, John began to talk.
‘This place is very different from outside,’ he said.
‘You’re telling me,’ Jamie replied. But John lifted his hand to silence him.
‘We do not speak when there is nothing important to say. You do not have to say these empty words. We have our faith, we work hard and we live peacefully.’
Jamie wasn’t sure he believed the ‘peacefully’ bit. He’d heard a few rumours to the contrary. But, so far, they’d done nothing aggressive that he could see. Maybe they really were peaceful, like he said.
‘All we ask,’ John continued, ‘is that you abide by these tenets. You must embrace our ways or leave.’
‘I only just got here. Can we
see how it goes?’
‘I think, perhaps, Mr Carter was wrong about you. I think this place is too serious for a man such as yourself. Maybe you would do better to return to the wilderness.’ John stood.
‘Hold on a minute, mate. I do want to be here, don’t get me wrong, it’s just a bit much to take in. It all feels a bit – final.’
‘That is where you are wrong – it is not final, it is everlasting. There is a difference.’
Jamie realised that he’d better at least pretend to be fully committed to being here, or John would get the hump and chuck him out.
‘Okay,’ Jamie said. ‘I’m in.’
‘Very well. Follow me.’
Jamie swigged the last of his water, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and followed John out of the room.
‘Where we going?’
‘It is better if you don’t ask questions. If you are happy to be here, accept that everything we do is for the good of all. We will guide you and speak to you when you need to be spoken to. Other than that, maintain your silence and use the quiet for contemplation.’
Jamie had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. He wanted to be here, he really did. If only it didn’t sound like a load of bullshit mumbo jumbo, he could get on board with it a bit more. But that was the old Jamie. The new Jamie had to be more open and less cynical. If he wanted to regain his sanity and lose the nightmares, he’d have to get with the program.
They were now back in the main entrance hall, heading for the wide staircase. Jamie tramped up the stairs after John, wondering what on earth was coming next. At the top of the stairs, John opened a wooden door and ushered Jamie inside. It was just an empty room with wooden floorboards and faded walls. There wasn’t even a chair. What now? Jamie thought. Two curtainless windows looked out onto trees and sky. Jamie stared out at the motionless leaves, dark and heavy against the pure blue sky.
‘Today you will confess your sins,’ John said.
‘Eh? What?’
‘Before you can continue with us, you must purge your soul and confess your sins. You must be completely honest and speak your innermost thoughts.’
The Perimeter Page 8
