At the end of the bridge, I run down the steps and follow the path along the south bank. I dodge through the smartly-dressed people outside the Festival Hall, and try to keep my pace up as I run under Hungerford Bridge. There’s an event in the Jubilee Gardens – there are tents set up on the lawns, and rows of patio heaters. Someone’s hung fairy lights in the bare trees.
This city amazes me. People, everywhere. Going out and living their lives, and enjoying themselves, every night. It’s like a non-stop party – people defying the terrorists and the bomb scares, and refusing to hide away. Do they think they’re invincible? Or are they trusting us to look after them?
That’s what I’m here for. That’s the career I’m building. Protecting people from chaos. Stopping the terrorists. Keeping the country safe.
I run past the London Eye, glancing across the river at the Home Forces building. This is my city. This is my home, as long as Bracken does his job. I’m starting to feel as if I belong here.
Careful, Ketty. Don’t forget why you’re here. Don’t forget that you’re not in control.
I pick up my pace as I pass the old County Hall building, looking up at the grand, curved facade. My knee aches with every step, but I push through. I won’t let Dan and Bex take this away from me.
I cross Westminster Bridge, dazzled by the headlights of the oncoming traffic, and follow the river back to my flat. I run up the stairs, and I’m smiling as I reach my door.
Tonight, I’m joining the party.
I pick out black skinny jeans, and an olive-coloured satin blouse with a heavy silver necklace. Still no heels – I need to be able to dance.
Look, the outfit says, but don’t touch.
I’m smiling as I step out of the shower and get dressed. London is waiting, and I have someone to share it with.
I check my reflection in the mirror. Last time I danced on tables was at Camp Bishop, when I made it to Lead Recruit. I can’t help smiling at the memory – dancing with everyone, painting our faces with lipstick war paint. Dancing with Jackson.
I look down at my outfit. Jackson wouldn’t recognise me – my hair down, the soft lines of my blouse. I put my hand out to the mirror.
I miss him.
I’m moving on, without him, and it’s hard. No one to challenge me. No one to mock my bad decisions, or back me up with Bracken. No one to anticipate my thoughts, and be on my team. No one on my side.
I pull on my winter coat and head out to meet Conrad.
*****
The night is insane. We go from bar to bar, from drink to drink. There’s dancing and loud music. Somewhere in the blur of bars and clubs I’m dancing on a stage with a band, David cheering me on.
It’s past midnight, and we’re walking along the river. We pass the tents and fairy lights of the Jubilee Gardens, watching the lights of the city reflected in the black water. David has been true to his word. We haven’t talked about work, and he hasn’t dropped hints about things he shouldn’t tell me. He hasn’t made me feel small, or insulted me. Tonight has been about us, away from the Home Forces. About dancing and drinking with a beautiful man. About having a good time.
“What now, Dancing Queen?” He asks.
I’m smiling as we walk. I’m unsteady on my feet, but the pain is gone from my knee. I feel alive. I feel real.
I’m not carrying Bracken, out here. I’m acting for myself. I’m not treading the tightrope I walk in the office, keeping Bracken sober without provoking him – hiding his bottles and bringing him painkillers.
Tonight, my decisions are for me.
I turn to David. He’s offered me contact and companionship this evening. He’s offered me a way to forget Jackson, and forget Bracken.
He’s been on my side.
He smiles at me – his gorgeous stomach-fluttering smile – and I can’t help myself.
I take the collar of his coat in my hands and pull him towards me. I kiss him, slowly, and he kisses me back.
Part of me knows this is a bad idea, but most of me doesn’t care. This is my night. My rules. My enjoyment.
He pulls away and looks at me. “Is this OK?”
I nod.
I don’t want to talk about it.
He kisses me, and I kiss him, and this time he doesn’t stop. The feeling is electric. Gently, slowly, he pushes his fingers through my hair, and it’s like a dam breaking. All the times we’ve sat together in the observation room at Belmarsh. All the times we’ve worked together – he’s been wanting this. He’s been wanting me. His hand is on my neck, under the collar of my blouse, pulling me closer. His fingers are cold – thrilling shocks of ice against my skin.
My hands are shaking. My whole body feels charged and lit up, like lightning. He wants me, and I want him. This is all I want to think about.
He breaks away, his green eyes meeting mine, and he smiles. Electricity sparks through me, blood pounding through my body. He pulls me close again, his mouth tracing the line of my jaw. His breath is hot as he whispers into my ear.
“So, Dancing Queen. Your place or mine?”
My heart is a cannon in my chest. I feel as if I’m floating away – as if I’m leaving everything behind. My hands grip the collar of his coat, holding tight in case I fall.
I’ve never felt this way before.
I bite my lip, trying to find the words to tell him yes. To make this feeling last.
But my head is clearing.
I’m flashing back to the times he’s mocked me. To the smirk he uses when he knows I’m in trouble. His Top Secret warnings and coded messages. To the times he’s enjoyed watching me suffer.
And I know that Jackson would be mocking him. And mocking me for being here.
This isn’t what I planned. This isn’t dancing on tables. This isn’t no complications. This is dangerous.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
I can’t trust David. He’s not on my side.
He’s trying to control me, but I’m smarter than this. I shouldn’t have come out tonight. I’ve made a mistake, and I don’t want to be here.
I pull away, but he follows, breathing into my neck. I don’t want this feeling to end, but I can’t stay here. I can’t let him win.
I make myself step back. I put my hands on his shoulders and push him away, shaking my head. He drops his hands, raises them in front of him.
“OK. OK.”
I run my fingers through my hair, trying to lose the sensation of his hand on my neck, his lips on mine. The electric feeling is still there, like sparks on my skin, and I’m fighting it.
This is madness, Ketty. What were you thinking?
He leans in again, tries to take my face in his hands. I shake my head and step back, pushing him away.
“No. I’m done. I’m going.”
He puts on a look of mock hurt. “What did I do?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. I just …”
And he’s smirking again. Looking at me as if he’s won an argument. As if he’s made me look bad, as if I’ve shown some weakness he can use. Mocking me.
“I’m going home. Good night, David.”
And I walk away along the river, back towards my tiny flat, alone.
Why are you here, David? What did you want from this evening?
My hands are still shaking, and part of me wants to turn round. To kiss him again, and not let him go. To bring back that electricity. To go home with him and undress him, and see how far this could go. I realise I’m running my own fingers through my hair, touching his fingerprints on my neck. Searching for that lightning sensation.
But I can’t afford to make mistakes like this. I can’t afford to let Conrad get to me. He’s Lee’s assistant, and he’s on Lee’s side, not mine.
I was looking for a friend. I was looking for support, but I’m looking in the wrong place.
Conrad is the enemy. He’s a distraction, and he’s dangerous.
I need to focus on Bracken, on impressing Franks, on keeping my job. O
n getting somewhere in this organisation. I don’t need distractions. I need to work, and I need to be better than everyone else. I don’t need a friend.
Stop looking for Jackson, Ketty. He’s not here.
I look around at the lights reflected on the water. All the people in this overwhelming city, and the one I need is gone.
Committee
BEX
“Good morning.” Amy puts her tray down next to mine. “You look happier today.”
I give her a smile. “I guess.”
“Charlie worked her magic?”
I nod. “She gave me some things to think about, and I’ve been thinking.”
“She’s good like that. I wonder where she gets all that good advice.”
“I think it comes from being more than twice your age, Amy.” Dan drops his tray across from me. “She’s done all this before.”
“So everything we do is predictable? We can’t surprise her?”
“You surprise me every day. All of you.” Charlie grins as she sits down next to Dan.
“So you haven’t seen this all before?” Amy sounds hopeful.
“I’ve seen a lot of things. And I’ve seen people break under less than this.” She waves a fork at us. “You lot? You’re stronger than you know. Don’t forget what you can do when you work together. I know it’s tough, losing Jake, but don’t let that push you apart. You need each other.”
She gives me a pointed look, as if she’s expecting me to protest. To say something hopeless. To point out how little we can do here.
But instead I smile and nod, and eat my breakfast.
And Charlie smiles back.
*****
Dan sits back and pats his stomach. “Time to take this to the gym.”
Amy slumps back in her chair. “Not more running machines! I don’t want to see another running machine.”
“There’s always the exercise bikes. You could try those instead.”
Amy groans. “I want to be outside! I want to run in the fresh air!”
I shake my head. “Don’t tell me you’re missing Camp Bishop.”
“No – not exactly.” She stares at the ceiling. “I just wish I could go out of the compound. Run around in a park. Look at the sky.”
“… and run the assault course, and parade round town in your armour?”
“No! No. I just … Jake gets to see the sky. When he gets to the Netherlands, he’ll be free to train in the open air. He won’t be hiding from snipers and zoom lenses. But me? I’m stuck with an exercise bike and a giant mirror.” She shudders.
I put my hand on her arm. “It isn’t fair. I know. But this is where we are, and we need to make the most of what we’ve got.”
She nods. “Yeah. I know.”
Charlie gives me another smile.
“You coming, Bex?” Dan pushes his chair back and stands up.
I glance across to the table where the Liaison Officers are eating breakfast.
“I’ll meet you there. There’s something I have to do first.”
*****
Gail looks up as I drag a chair over to her table and sit down next to her.
“Bex. Is everything OK?”
“I need to ask you something.”
She wipes her fingers on a paper napkin and pushes her tray away.
“OK.”
“Is there a way I can sit in on the OIE committee, as part of my training? Shadow someone, or be an adviser, or something?”
She blinks. “You want to see what happens in committee meetings?” She sounds confused.
“I want to know what it’s really like to be on the committee. To run something like this, with all the restrictions and the things you’d like to do.” I wave my hand to indicate the building, and the compound. “I know you have to compromise, and make difficult decisions, and I want to know how you do that.”
She nods, slowly. “It’s an interesting idea. I’ll have to talk to Fiona about it. You’d have to give up one of your other training modules, but I’m sure we could sort something out. I can’t get you full access – there are things that would need to stay behind closed doors – but I think we can arrange to give you a taste of what goes on.”
I make myself meet her gaze. This is my chance to play the game. To make my move.
“I want full access. I want to see what the committee does, and how they do it.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to tell anyone what I hear. But if you’re serious about training me, this is what I want to be trained in.”
Gail stares at me, trying to take in what I’ve said. “Hang on, Bex,” she says, shaking her head. “Are you asking for a place at the table?”
I think about what Charlie said. About living, not just surviving. About taking everything I can.
I shrug. “Why not?”
She looks at me for a moment, thinking.
“You’re the Face of the Resistance, Bex. When the time comes to fight back, we need you to be out there. We need you visible, and ready to fight. You can’t be locked up in the background with the committee.”
I want to shout. I want to walk away.
I’m afraid she’s not going to see what I’m saying. I’m afraid she’s going to shut me out.
And she called me the Face of the Resistance.
I need to prove to her that I’m more than that. And I need to stay calm.
I make myself continue.
“That’s the problem, Gail. You took my image, and you put it on thousands of posters. People are joining the resistance because of me. They’re putting themselves in danger because of my photo, and my story. I’m their inspiration, and I don’t know what the most important resistance organisation is planning. You’re asking me to support you, with no idea what I’m supporting. You’re using my image, and I have no idea what you’re using it for.”
“That’s hardly relevant …”
“But it is.” I can feel myself blushing. I’m pushing Gail again, and I need her to listen to me. I’m trying to stay calm, and I’m trying not to shout, but I can feel the anger knotting in my chest. “You said you’d train us. You said you’d get us ready. How long are we going to be here, Gail? How long before we march on London?”
She shrugs.
“You don’t know. I don’t know. But what if you need new members of the committee? What if this drags on for years?” I try not to think about Mum and Margie, and what that might mean for them. “Don’t you want to have someone ready to step in? Someone who knows how this works? Someone you’ve trained to work with you?”
I’m holding my breath, waiting for her answer. She thinks for a moment.
“So you think that having your face on the posters means we should give you a voice on the committee?”
I stare at Gail, trying not to look surprised.
A voice on the committee.
That’s more than I was hoping for.
I wanted to be a witness, not a member – but if that’s what she can give me, I can’t say no. I try to stop my hands from shaking, and I have to take a deep breath before I reply.
“I think that would make up for keeping us here. Don’t you?”
She looks at me again. “You’re not going to let me say no to this, are you?”
This could work. This could really happen. I try not to smile.
“No. I’m not. You said no to sending us to the Netherlands, so now you’re stuck with me. This is what I want to do.”
She sighs, and sits back in her chair, pushing her hands through her hair.
“I’ll talk to Fiona.”
“Thanks, Gail.”
Charlie is waiting in the corridor when I walk out of the dining room.
“Did you just …?”
I nod, and grin. “I think I just demanded a seat on the committee.”
She puts her arm round my shoulder as we walk. “Still surprising me, Bex,” she says, quietly. “Well done.”
*****
Fiona finds us in the common room, just before dinner
.
“Bex. Can I borrow you for a moment?”
I exchange a look with Charlie, and stand up, my heart jumping in my chest. “Sure.”
Charlie jumps to her feet. “We should be heading to the dining room. Dan, Amy?” They stand, too, glancing between me and Fiona, and walk towards the door. “We’ll see you there, Bex. OK?”
I nod. Fiona gestures to the sofa, and I sit down again. She takes the seat opposite. The door closes behind my friends, and we’re alone in the room. My heart is beating too fast, and I clasp my hands together tightly.
I don’t want to hear more bad news.
“I gather you had a conversation with Gail, earlier.” I nod. “She came to me with an interesting proposal.”
She watches me, a faint smile on her face. I take a deep breath. I feel as if I’m falling.
“She said she would talk to you.”
Her smile grows wider. “It’s a good idea, Bex. Making you a member of the committee. We can spin it as an educational placement. Some sort of social and political project.” She waves her hand. “We can work out the details later.”
My pulse is hammering. I can feel the blood rushing to my face.
I can’t help smiling back. I can’t believe she’s saying yes. Better than that – she’s saying yes to giving me membership, not just a shadowing role. Charlie was right – she must be feeling guilty about making us stay here.
“We need some younger voices. Another perspective. Some experiences from the front line.” She shrugs. “Can you bring us that?”
I have to catch my breath. This isn’t what I was expecting.
“I … yes. Yes, I can.”
She frowns. “This will be a lot of work, Bex. A lot of your time will be spent reading reports and talking to other committee members. You won’t have much time for practical training.”
I nod. I still can’t believe what she’s saying. My breath is catching in my throat. “OK.”
“I want you to make sure you keep up with the gun training, and we’ll see if we can get you a driving instructor out of hours. Can you manage that?”
Fighting Back (Battle Ground YA UK Dystopia Series Book 4) Page 12
