Song of Bees

by Andrea Hicks

  Baxter nods. ‘He has to like her. It’s how he gets things done. Honey and vinegar, and all that.’

  ‘Can you speak with him, Leo. You said you’d have to anyway because you didn’t want to go behind his back. Can you tell him what I’m going to do?’ Baxter nods. ‘Tom. Have you found anything?’

  Tom looks startled that I’ve dragged him into the limelight. He looks like a sleepy hedgehog that’s just come out of hibernation. I chuckle inwardly. It’s not a bad description. Even his hair stands up on end like spikes. ‘Er, well apart from the Edinburgh thing, the only thing I discovered is that he changed his name.’

  We all stare at him. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’ says Baxter.

  ‘No one asked me.’

  ‘How did you find out?’ I ask him, incredulous that I could still be looking for the wrong person.

  ‘I hacked into the national database of registrars. He did it officially which I find interesting. It’s almost like he wants to be found, or at least, he doesn’t want to be associated with the name, Spencer.’

  ‘So what did he change it to.’ I’m dreading his answer because Dad is beginning to become more and more like a stranger to me.

  ‘Gourriel. He changed it to your surname, Nina. He’s now Tate Gourriel.’

  ‘My mum’s name.’

  ‘And yours,’ says Eva. ‘I wonder why he did that.’

  A lightbulb goes on. ‘Address. He must have given an address when he changed his name. And when did he do it?’ My heart is in my mouth. If it’s fairly recent, at least he was still alive then. Please let it be recent.

  ‘It was two weeks ago. I rang the registrar and made up a story about looking for a birth certificate, saying I was doing that genealogy thing that was popular a few years back. They said I could order a birth certificate if I wanted.’

  I jump up from the arm of the sofa where I’ve been perching. ‘He’s still alive. If he changed it two weeks ago, it must mean he’s still alive. And the address?’

  ‘Chartfield Square, Putney.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ asks Leo.

  ‘That’s our old address. He’s not living there, he can’t be. It was rented out to someone else when I went to live with Rochelle, my aunt.’

  Tom rubs his chin looking thoughtful. I know he wants to say something but doesn’t know whether he should. This guy is a complete techie. Introverted, hesitant, yet I really like him. He reminds me of Shaggy in Scooby Doo, and they always won the day. Didn’t they? ‘You want to say something, Tom?’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to pour cold water on things, or even give you hope. First of all, do we know it was him who changed his name? Could it have been someone else?’ My heart sinks to my boots. Of course. I should have thought of it. Anyone could say they’re him. ‘And...how do we know it’s not him living in your old apartment. It might be him. You don’t know it isn’t for definite. Don’t forget, he was Spencer when you went to live with your aunt and you didn’t know that. I doubt you can remember the name of the person who rented the place, that’s if you actually knew. The landlord would know I guess. If it is actually your father who changed his name, and he is at your old apartment, he might be trying to let you know he’s still alive.’

  I grab him and kiss him on the cheek. He pulls away and rubs the kiss away from his face. ‘Yeah, don’t do that.’

  ‘It makes sense, doesn’t it? It could be him. Oh, my God, sweet Jesus, please let it be him.’

  Baxter pushes himself away from the doorframe that he was leaning against and shoves his hands in his jean pockets. ‘Don’t get too excited, Nina. It might all be a dead end.’

  I nod and take a deep breath. ‘I know. I know. I’ll try and keep some perspective.’

  ‘And someone needs to check. I think it should be Tom and me.’

  I smile at him. ‘Thank you, Leo. I’d like it to be you, especially if it is him.’

  His eyes light up and he flushes pink making his dark eyebrows stand out even more. He looks away, embarrassed. ‘Yeah, well, someone’s got to do it. Come on, Tom, there’s no time like the present. And, Nina. I’m going to speak to Edward Spencer. I have to. I can’t go behind his back.’

  I nod my acceptance and put my hand on his arm. ‘I know,’ I say quietly. ‘I understand. I just hope he’s on our side.’

  ‘I think that will depend on which story he’s been fed.’ He glances at Cain, then grins at me. ‘Good luck, Nina. Don’t do anything daft.’

  I return his grin. ‘As if.’

  His face changes. ‘No, I mean it.’ I follow him into the corridor outside Ava’s apartment. ‘I don’t trust him,’ he whispers. ‘He’s out for himself. He didn’t give a damn about you when you wandering around on your own looking for somewhere to stay to protect yourself.’ I look down because I know he’s totally right. Glancing up again, I meet troubled eyes. ‘And have you asked him where your boyfriend is?’

  ‘Dylan?’ He nods. ‘He’s not my boyfriend, and no, I haven’t asked him. He said he was being held and that he was okay.’

  ‘Being held? Where and by whom? What gives him the right to “hold” someone?’

  I shrug. ‘I don’t know. I guess I was...well, sucked in because I didn’t know any different.’

  ‘Do you think you’re being sucked in now?’

  ‘Nina! We need to go.’ Cain’s voice comes out of the apartment.

  ‘See,’ says Baxter. ‘He thinks he’s calling the shots. Don’t let him, Nina. Make sure he knows where he stands. And listen...I’m keeping my eye on him. I’ll go to the flat, see who’s living there, and depending on what I find, I’m going to be on his tail. He just won’t know it.’

  ‘He knew you were in the square, y’know, where we met in Bermondsey.’

  ‘Who said it would be me?’

  I nod and he leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. ‘You need to know who your enemies are. You’re doing the right thing keeping him close, but don’t let him get under your skin. I think you’re done for if you do.’

  We get off the bike at the front of Plan Bee. Cain said he wants it to look as though he’s arrested me and that he’s turning me in. More brownie points for him with Cecily I guess. Well, it serves my purpose. All I can think about is Dad, and whether it’s him at the flat. I’m silently praying.

  He grabs my arm and marches me towards the glass doors of the building and presses a buzzer. We wait a few moments and one of the uniformed guards comes to the door. Cain holds up his pass and the guard unlocks it. Cain chuckles.

  ‘You know who I am, Don. Why do I have to show my pass.’

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t know who she is.’ He lifts his chin to indicate me. ‘She could be anyone.’

  Cain raises his eyebrows and gives me a mock grin that I scowl at. ‘Oh, she’s someone alright.’

  We leave the reception area and into one of the corridors where there are plastic chairs placed against the wall. Cain indicates for me to sit. ‘Wait here until I come back. I’m going to see Cecily to tell her you’re here.’ He turns and begins to walk down the corridor, then turns back, like he’s had second thoughts. ‘Don’t even think of leaving, Nina. This is our chance now, and if we blow it we’ll never get another.’

  ‘I’m not stupid. I know what I have to do. Just make sure you don’t pull a fast one.’

  He gives a straight-mouthed smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘Still don’t trust me, do you?’

  ‘That’s right. I don’t.’

  Chapter 21

  I wait for about fifteen minutes, anticipating the arrival of Cain and Cecily and my fate. It’s a difficult fifteen minutes because part of me wants to run. If I run I’m back at square one. I have to find out what will happen next. They say if you keep repeating the same thing you get the same results, so, this could be the best or worst decision I’ve ever made.

  I hear footsteps echoing from a way off, the high-pitched clip-clop of Cecily Cunning
ham’s kitten heels and the harsher clump, clump of Cain’s motorcycle boots, their voices echoing, hers staccato, sharp, annoyed? His low and seemingly placatory. I wonder why he feels the need to pat her down. Strange. Anxiety rushes from my stomach to my throat. I’m scared. I’m out of my own control again and I don’t like it one bit.

  They appear at the other end of the corridor and walk towards me, silent now. Cecily stands in front of me, arms folded in front of her like she has lost patience. The last time I saw her she had her back to me, but now we’re fact to face I realise she’s actually an attractive women in a buttoned-up kind of way. I should imagine men who like women to be efficient, sharp, to the point, the dominatrix type, would appreciate Cecily. Cain stands next to her looking slightly sheepish. Not getting that. Sheepish? Cain? Doesn’t ring true. Is he acting?

  ‘Nina!’, Cecily says, her voice low and patronising. ‘You’ve caused us a heap of trouble.’

  I look from her to Cain then back again. ‘Not my doing,’ I answer.

  Cain glares at me and Cecily smiles. ‘We know that.’

  ‘Then why have you made my life so shit?’

  ‘Because you didn’t play by the rules. Now that you’ve been apprehended it’s something you will have to do whether you like it or not.’ Apprehended? Is that what Cain has done, apprehended me?

  ‘I’d like to know why I’m on a wanted list. I think I’m owed that much bearing in mind that anything that has happened with regard to trials, vaccines, whatever, has got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘So I hear.’

  I frown. ‘What?’

  ‘Edward Spencer. He seems to think you knew nothing about any of this.’ So the PM has spoken to her about me. ‘He has instructed me to report to him regarding your whereabouts, so there we go. It’ll be the shortest report I’ve ever written now you’re in custody.’

  ‘In custody? You make me sound like a criminal. What about my human rights? What about the Geneva Convention? You can’t just hold me, Ms Cunningham. You have to have a good reason. Even I know that much.’

  She turns to Cain before marching off in the direction she came. ‘Bring her into my office.’ Cain lifts his chin and I get up and follow her down the corridor and into a room that opens out into a sort of modern office come snug looking out onto a courtyard planted with trees and tropical plants. There are double doors that open out onto it, and on a small terrace, a table and chairs set with a coffee pot and a plate of cakes and biscuits. Cecily sits at the table texting on her mobile phone. I wonder who it is she’s texting. Her girlfriend maybe, or the PM?

  ‘Sit,’ she says, so I sit. Cain stands to one side. She finishes messaging and puts the phone to one side, turning it over so I can’t see the screen. ‘Studied the law, didn’t you?’

  ‘For a while.’

  ‘So why stop?’

  I shrug. I’m not sure I’m ready to go into the reason why I left university. I’ve never discussed it with anyone else and Cecily Cunningham’s the last person I want to confide in, especially with Cain listening to every word.’

  ‘Gang-raped, weren’t you?’ My mouth drops open and unbidden...and unwanted...tears spring into my eyes misting my vision. I swallow hard and look down to my hands, squeezed so tight in my lap the blood has gone out of them leaving the knuckles white. ‘Something you don’t want to talk about?’

  I swallow before I speak. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  I look up and stare at her. Her eyes are grey, an unusual colour, and look, dare I say, concerned. ‘You seem to know a lot about me, Ms Cunningham. I’m wondering how you discovered that.’

  She pours two coffees and pushes one towards me. I notice she doesn’t offer Cain one. ‘There’s not much we can’t find out, Nina, but there are some things that even we, with all the resources we have at our fingertips are unable to ascertain.’

  ‘Like the whereabouts of my father?’

  She looks up at Cain, her eyes narrowed and as hard as flint. ‘Exactly.’

  I nod, then take a sip of coffee. It’s fresh, expensive, not the kind we served in the café. ‘I’ve never told anyone about...you know.’

  ‘Why?’ She pushes the plate of biscuits and cakes across the table towards me.

  I shrug, wishing I didn’t have to talk about it now, but realising all bets are off, I make the decision I can’t be bothered to worry about it anymore. ‘There’s a stigma attached to the girl, or whoever it happens to. There’s always the suspicion that maybe the victim asked for it, was party to it, allowed it to happen, and then in the light of day realises it shouldn’t have happened and starts crying rape. I went to the right people at the university, tried to do something about it because I knew if they weren’t stopped there was every likelihood they would do it to someone else. Unfortunately a couple of the guys had influential families, unlike me who comes from the dregs...apparently.’

  ‘Was it investigated?’ I nod. ‘But?’

  ‘They said I was willing. And like I said, at least two of them had families who got involved and probably paid someone to make it go away.’

  ‘Were you asked to leave?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So, why?’

  I chuckle, but don’t smile. ‘Would you have stayed? It was the talk of the campus. I was the talk of the campus. Their identities were kept a secret. Even I didn’t know who they were because they wore masks. Some of the students who judged me didn’t even know me, yet they passed sentence on me and hung me out to dry. It made me realise that people like to think the worst of you, that they wanted to believe I was capable of leading four guys on then deciding I’d changed my mind. It was one of the most horrific times of my life, apart from when my mum died.’

  ‘We were surprised that she died.’

  I feel my eyes widen and my heart begins to race. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘We thought she would have survived bearing in mind what we know about your father.’

  ‘You knew about us then? It was years ago.’

  ‘Yes, Nina. And we’ve been looking for him for years.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it’s important that we find him. Crucial, actually. We can’t do anything with what’s available to us until then. We’ve learnt that much. He is the key to all this, the one who can make it work.’

  I glance up at Cain. ‘I was under the impression you didn’t want to make it work. That you just wanted to make sure my dad didn’t use it for anyone else, that it was thought he may have defected and had given the key to someone else. That they might be first in the race to come up with a vaccine to cure all illnesses. Aren’t you worried about that?’

  She purses her lips. Well, yes, but not for the reason you probably think.’

  ‘Why then?’

  ‘First of all, we’re not even certain it’s a good thing.’ She holds her hand up as I start to protest, of course it’s a good thing, because it will save people. ‘I know...I know. You, like everyone else on the outside thinks that saving everyone on the planet will bring global happiness.’

  ‘Won’t it?’

  ‘As I said, not necessarily, but I can’t commit to any kind of opinion on it, Nina. There are all sorts of studies into this and at present there are no definitive answers. However, if what your father knows get’s into what we consider to be the wrong hands...’

  ‘Like? Whose hands would you consider to be wrong’

  ‘Criminals, renegade governments, businesses using it for profit. You know the type of thing, I’m sure.’

  ‘You thought he’d given the vaccine to my mother?’

  ‘We would have thought so, yes.’

  ‘But he didn’t.’

  ‘We don’t think so.’

  ‘And you know this how?’

  She inhales then holds her breath. ‘We checked.’

  ‘You checked? You...tested her?’ She nods, her eyes on Cain. ‘Without permission?’ I’m incredulous, hurt, disgusted. I don’t
know, just utterly shocked. ‘You could have asked me?’

  ‘You were fourteen. It wasn’t permissible.’

  ‘But it was permissible for you to test her without consent?’ Something occurs to me. ‘You’ve been watching me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So why didn’t you take me in before now?’

  ‘As you correctly stated not ten minutes ago, Nina. We needed a reason. When you were tested in hospital it gave us one.’

  ‘But I was told I survived because I had the immunity to overcome everything. Is that not true?’

  ‘We think you may have partial immunity, as do the others who were tested after the trial, but without the final piece of the puzzle you will never have total immunity, and we cannot possibly know what each of you are immune to and what you’re not. There is no way of telling how much you are protected.’

  ‘Where are the others.’

  ‘Dispersed.’

  I glance at Cain again. That’s the word he used. ‘Why?’

  ‘To protect them. To make sure they don’t come into contact with people who want to use them.’

  ‘As bait?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Do you know where my father is?’

  She shakes her head. ‘Do you?’

  I rub my eyes with my fingers then remember my contacts. Blinking into the sunlight streaming through the trees on the courtyard I shake my head. ‘No.’

  ‘Would you tell us if you did?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’

  ‘If I knew, and I thought you wouldn’t hurt him, I wouldn’t have a reason to keep it from you, would I?’

  ‘What if I told you we have no intention of “hurting him” as you put it?’

  I shrug because I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t trust Cecily. I’m sure she would say anything to get her hands on my dad. She gets up and goes into the office, taking a photograph from the desk. She brings it into the courtyard and places it on the table in front of me. Its an image of a man bending down in front of a little girl, placing an ice-cream into her tiny hand. They’re both laughing. Behind them, leaning against some iron railings edging a pond is my mother. She’s laughing too. The man is my father. The woman is my mother. The little girl is me.