by Simon Clark
As the cortège pulled away, Lou shook her head. ‘Maureen was younger than me. Married to the job like you and me. Remember to learn from our mistakes.’ After a pause Lou spoke again. ‘They’re burying her in that dress she liked so much. Remember the one at the Christmas party? Electric blue. Whoa, girl, I told her. Wait until I get my shades before you go exposing that dress to the public. That fabric’s giving the Christmas tree lights an inferiority complex.’
Laura tried to sound as if she was making conversation, but when she asked the question Lou shot her a surprised glance. ‘Pardon?’
Laura repeated it. ‘Do you ever visit Tod Langdon? He’s at that secure unit on the other side of town, isn’t he?’
Lou clearly wondered why Laura was so suddenly interested in one of their – let’s face it – failures. ‘From time to time. Since they committed him six months ago.’
‘Does he know who you are?’
‘Not really. One of the nurses there said, “You’ve heard the term brain-dead? Well, he’s mind-dead. Does nothing. Doesn’t interact.”’ Lou shot her a probing look. ‘Why the sudden interest in Tod?’
‘Oh . . . I found myself thinking about him this morning.’
‘Because Jay did that thing? Repeating his name, just like he did with Maureen then – pop. Bad thing happens out of the blue.’ She pressed her lips together, annoyed with herself. ‘Pay no heed, Laura. I’ve been thinking a bunch of nonsense about Jay. Huh, I’ve found myself surfing the Internet looking for stuff about curses, prophecies, portents of doom.’ The funeral cortège crossed a railway bridge. ‘In the end I helped myself to a glass of gin with sugar in it. My grandmother always said if you add sugar to booze then it’s medicine not liquor.’ She read Laura’s expression. ‘What happened to Tod is bothering you, isn’t it?’ She gave a world-weary sigh. ‘Have you ever been to the secure unit?’
For a moment Laura nearly poured her heart out about the nightmare. All about seeing Maureen in the bright blue dress, the medical team making whoopee at midnight, the dour corridors, the cells with steel doors all firmly in lockdown. Instead, she gave a tiny shake of the head. ‘I’ve seen it from the outside. Razor wire. High walls. It looks grim.’
‘Yup, it’s no sweeter on the inside. All the walls are painted green, a dull, dull green. I used to go along with Maureen to visit Tod. We always feel responsible for our charges. Success or failure. We could do nothing for the boy, but we couldn’t let go. Story of our lives, huh? They locked Tod in his green cell, all so damped down with tranquillizers he could barely move. All he did was stare at nothing. Maureen hated the idea of him staring at a blank wall so she bought a poster. A huge one. Once it was up there on the wall it could have been a big picture window on the outside world.’
Laura tingled. ‘Good idea. He loved animals.’ Images from the nightmare shot back with such a pungent reality that she clenched her fists so tightly her fingers ached. For a moment she stood in the green cell again, steel door locked, a drugged Tod Langdon cowering on the bed, the only homely touch a poster on the wall of his favourite animal.
‘More than anything –’ Laura heard her voice as if it came from some other place – ‘he loved polar bears.’
‘And that’s what Maureen bought him. A big poster of a polar bear swimming in a bright blue sea.’ She sighed. ‘Well . . . here we go.’ The line of cars followed the hearse through the gates to the chapel. The handles on the coffin flashed silver, as if they sent out a warning: danger ahead. Take care . . .
Six
Siluria is such a small island, with a permanent population of just two hundred and eighty or so, that when a large party of visitors arrives a good chunk of its residents pitch in to help. When the party from Badsworth Lodge arrived it was dusk. Victor Brodman helped his neighbours carry the children’s holdalls from the boat on to dry land. As the tired-looking party disembarked from the ferry he counted ten girls aged between eight and eleven. Twelve boys in the same age group. Then four girls and four boys in the twelve to sixteens. Add five members of staff and that cranked up the island’s population by a decent percentage. The kids from Badsworth Lodge had been coming here ever since he could remember. They were kids that tended not to be fostered for various reasons. Most had behavioural problems. But the custom of them spending a week on the island worked surprisingly well considering. Instead of staying at the hostel like the school parties, they were shared out amongst more than a dozen homes. Childcare specialists advocated a homely environment for a few days each year to help prevent them becoming too institutionalized. Victor liked the children from the Lodge. Despite what they’d gone through they tended to be better behaved than school parties and they took a greater interest in the animals. The guy who’d been the island ranger before him insisted that they formed a bond with the Saban Deer. ‘These animals share the same kind of quality as dolphins. Do you follow what I’m saying? The deer have a calming effect on troubled souls.’ The ranger had believed in that absolutely, especially when one of the carers explained that children from the Lodge often developed a deep mistrust of human beings. Animals didn’t steal, trick them, lie to them, or use their heads as punch balls. Animals could be trusted.
The sun was setting as the exhausted group moved ashore. As he took one carer’s bag she confided in a melodic Jamaican accent, ‘Poor lambs. They’re all shattered. They’ve been through a terrible ordeal over the last couple of days, Mr Brodman.’
‘The mayor told me you’d lost a colleague. I was sorry to hear about it.’
‘It was a shock, Mr Brodman. Here, don’t carry too many bags.’
‘Lou, remember to call me Victor or I’ll make sure they hide the cider.’
‘You’ll do no such thing – Victor – that’s the elixir of life. I’ve been promising myself a big, big glass tonight. Heck, no, just fill a bathtub: I’ll leap in naked.’
They laughed. Victor remembered how Lou had the knack of infusing the entire island with her good-natured presence. Staff like that at the Lodge must be as precious as rubies. He scanned the faces as they disembarked on to the jetty. He recognized some of the children from last year. These he greeted by name. The others he helped ashore with ‘Hi. Welcome to the island. My name is Victor. I hope you enjoy your stay.’ Behind him an assortment of fishermen, craftspeople, and even a TV scriptwriter helped divide the party into smaller groups so they could be taken to their new homes for the week. A boy with such striking brown eyes that Victor had to look twice stepped off the ferry. His elfin face seemed to radiate an uncanny glow in the dying light of the sun. ‘Here, let me help you with that holdall.’
‘I’ll see to that.’ A carer he didn’t recognize spoke sharply enough to suggest he keep his distance from the boy. She had blonde hair, and a face that, while being extremely attractive, had the drawn appearance of someone living on their last reserves of nervous energy.
‘No problem.’ He shrugged. ‘Is there any more luggage on board?’
‘No, we’ve got it.’ She seemed on edge.
‘My name’s Victor Brodman, the island ranger. I’ll be helping out generally and will be your guide while you’re here.’ Despite his burden of half a dozen holdalls he freed a hand, then held it out to her.
For a second she eyed him suspiciously, then extended her own hand. ‘Nurse Laura Parris.’ The woman flinched as if not liking the steely sound. Softening it, she gave a tired smile. ‘Call me Laura. I’m in charge. Thanks, by the way. You’ve got everything organized.’
‘We’re well rehearsed now,’ Victor said. ‘We’ve been taking parties from Badsworth Lodge for years.’
‘Ever since it was known as Badsworth Orphanage, no doubt?’
Is she always this prickly? He nodded. ‘We enjoy having you. The whole island prides itself on making sure the children have a good time.’ She appeared not to be listening but was scanning the crowd of faces instead. ‘So, Laura, I’ve still got to learn some of new children’s names. This will be . . .’ He nodded
to the fragile-looking boy with the elfin face. When she didn’t make the introduction he did it himself. He held out his hand to the boy. ‘My name is Victor. Pleased to meet you.’
Laura quickly drew the boy away. Guiding him to a gangling boy of eleven or so, she said, ‘Billy, Jay is your holiday buddy. He’ll be staying with you at Mrs Miller’s house.’
Billy immediately let fly with a howl of protest. ‘No damn way! I’m not stopping with that little witch.’
‘Billy—’
‘What if he starts saying my name? I’m not going like Maureen and Tod. I’m bloody well not!’
Lou stepped forward. ‘Let’s not wage a war about this.’
Billy trembled. ‘You can’t make me. I’m not staying with Jay. I’m not, I’m not, I’m—’
‘OK. We’ll shuffle the deck,’ Lou told him. ‘Calum, if you swap places with Billy, then—’
A freckled boy reacted exactly as Billy. Flinching back, he yelled, ‘Not with Jay! I’m not being anywhere near him. Never!’
The other children retreated from the elfin-faced boy as if he’d burst into flame and burn them to cinders. All clamoured that they wouldn’t stay with him; that it wasn’t fair. What struck Victor so forcefully was that they weren’t being merely stroppy, they were absolutely terrified of Jay.
Mayor Wilkes had been overseeing the arrival of the party in his usual manner – hands behind his back, pointedly announcing that his status was far too elevated to actually help with the mounds of luggage. He scanned the adults from the Lodge.
‘Who’s actually in charge?’
Laura Parris turned to him. ‘That would actually be me.’
‘You can find that boy another child to stay with?’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll work something out.’
‘That’s how the system operates for your party. They stay in groups of two with carefully selected local residents. We can’t have children chopping and changing.’
Laura glared. ‘The children are worn out. We can deal with this in the morning.’
‘But where does the boy stay?’
‘He can stay with me at the hostel.’
‘The terms of the visit don’t allow that. Besides, there’s no room at the hostel. The dormitories are being redecorated. There’s accommodation for your staff, that’s all.’
Laura snapped back. ‘What do you suggest? That he sleeps under a bush?’
‘I’m suggesting that he returns on the ferry.’
Victor saw the blaze of anger in Laura’s eyes. Watch out Mayor Wilkes, she’s just about to go for your jugular.
The mayor added breezily, ‘If that boy doesn’t get along with the others then it’s clearly a recipe for disaster if he stays.’
Laura closed in. ‘All these children have been through hell. Not just last week, but for every week of their lives. They all need a holiday. I won’t stand by while people I care about are run off the island like two-bit thugs.’
From his Mr-High-and-Mighty stance, Mayor Wilkes huffed. ‘I merely said that in the interests of harmony—’
Victor interrupted. ‘He can stay at White Cross Farm. There’s plenty of room.’
‘You mean, stay with you?’ Laura turned that glare on Victor – a glare that reminded him of a lioness ready to attack anything that threatened her cubs.
‘We have rules relating to children’s accommodation.’ Mayor Wilkes wore a smug expression. ‘The boy must return on the ferry.’
Victor smiled. ‘More precisely, I’m suggesting that Jay stops with my sister and her husband. Both have childcare clearance checks. They’ve experience of fostering children as well.’
Laura still resisted. ‘I won’t have him staying by himself.’
‘Then you stay with us, too. There are spare bedrooms.’ He read her expression. Grinning, he added, ‘That’s right, although my sister runs the place I’m the lunatic sibling who they keep chained up in the attic.’
Lou grinned too. ‘That’s perfectly true, the man is a lunatic. But Victor’s the kind of lunatic you can trust with your life.’
He put his arm round her shoulders. ‘Thank you, Lou. I’ll take that as a compliment.’ He glanced at Mayor Wilkes. ‘Well?’
‘Look, I’m fine with this if Nurse Parris is. Besides, I’m late for a meeting.’
Victor nodded, ‘Say hello to the golf club guys for me.’
Scowling, Mayor Wilkes marched on to the ferry, while gesturing to the crew to cast off straight away.
Victor took in the view of the stars coming out in the sky. ‘It’s going to be a beautiful night.’ He added another holdall to the six he already carried. ‘Lou, I’ll see you in the Three Impostors at nine. First cider’s on me.’
Chuckling girlishly, she followed her party in the direction of the village.
Laura didn’t appear impressed. ‘So you can charm Lou.’
‘Lovely Lou. I’m sure she’s an angel in human form.’ He paused. ‘Only us three left. You can accept my offer to stay at my sister’s farm, or there’s always the ferry back to the mainland.’ Its motor coughed into life.
Laura scowled. ‘For one night only. I’ll sort out a place for Jay tomorrow. The children are just overtired.’
He acknowledged the statement with a nod. ‘Follow me.’
For the first time the boy spoke. ‘Where’s he taking us?’
When Laura smiled her face turned from winter to spring. ‘To a farm. That’s where we’ll be staying.’
Victor led the way along the shoreline path. He dropped off holdalls according to the address labels as he went. Behind him the boy talked quietly to Laura, thinking Victor couldn’t hear.
‘Laura. I’m frightened.’
‘There’s nothing to be frightened of. There might be animals at the farm. You’ll like that, won’t you?’
Jay’s reply was so odd that it kept coming back to Victor for the rest of the night. ‘I’m not frightened about where we’re staying. I’m frightened that I’ll do the same to you as I did to Maureen.’
Seven
The boy known as Jay beamed with pleasure as he fed the goat slices of bread. A group of ten children had walked up here in the morning with Lou to get acquainted the animals and to meet with the island ranger. The children kept clear of Jay. There was none of the name-calling from last night; they just excluded him from their play as if it all came as naturally as not sticking your hand into a fire. Lou showed them how to feed the chickens. Victor kept an eye on the goat. When the bread ran out the animal tended to butt the hand that fed it.
‘The goat doesn’t frighten you?’ Victor asked.
‘He’s like me,’ Jay spoke casually. ‘He keeps himself to himself.’
‘The other children weren’t kind to you last night. That didn’t seem fair.’
‘They’re scared.’ Again, the casual manner. ‘I’m creepy.’
‘You don’t seem at all creepy to me.’ Victor kept it light-hearted.
‘I sometimes have these episodes.’
Victor didn’t pry. ‘Hold the bread by the crust, right at the edge. Wilkes tends not to bother about the difference between fingers and food. Just look what happened to me.’ Victor held up a hand with two fingers curled in to make it look as if they’d been bitten off.
Jay laughed. The sun shone down warmly for the first time in a week, and it seemed to bring out a sunnier mood in the child.
‘Jay, what happened to Laura this morning?’
‘She had to talk to the mayor.’ His grin broadened. ‘Mayor Wilkes. The goat’s called Wilkes. You named the goat after the mayor, didn’t you?’
In mock horror Victor threw up his hands. ‘Promise me you won’t tell. He’ll blow a fuse.’
The boy skipped from subject to subject. ‘Laura isn’t always like that. You know, arrrr.’ He growled as he hooked his fingers into claws.
‘She’s being protective of you all. That makes sense to me.’
‘Yeah, she’s nice. Only I had one of my e
pisodes.’
‘Oh.’
‘I took her for a walk . . .’ The large, brown eyes glittered.
‘A walk doesn’t sound a bad thing to me. I thought we’d all take a walk along the shore later.’
‘Not that kind of walk.’ Perspiration formed on the boy’s face. ‘I can’t help it. I took her to Tod. And I showed her Maureen in that dress she wears in the coffin. Even though I couldn’t stop myself I hoped it might make her happy to see Maureen and Tod again. But I’m scared that Laura might be next.’ Wilkes licked breadcrumbs from Jay’s fingers. The damp rasp of the tongue distracted him from what must have been troubling thoughts. ‘Is that the last slice of bread?’
‘We have to ration Wilkes. He’d eat all day if he could.’
‘We’ve got someone like that. Ricky could eat chocolate until he explodes.’ Jay pulled a camera from his pocket. ‘Will you take my photo with the goat?’
‘I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt to get a couple of shots while we’ve got the bread.’
‘I saved pennies in a jar for the camera.’ The boy’s mood lightened. ‘It took ten months, three weeks, six days.’
‘Your commitment is a credit to you. I’ll crouch down as low as I can. Hold the bread higher so Wilkes lifts his head. That’s it. Hero shot!’ Victor took a couple of photographs as the goat curled its pink tongue around the crust. ‘Superb. I’ll ask Lou if we can put these in the farm’s album.’
‘You won’t be allowed.’ He chuckled as the goat nibbled his shirt cuff.
‘Oh?’
‘I’m supposed to be a secret.’
Though Victor’s curiosity was teased he knew better than to pry into the personal lives of the children who came here, especially from such a sensitive establishment as Badsworth Lodge. ‘That’s the last of the bread. We best get Wilkes back into the pen or he’s going to gobble the shirt off your back.’
