by Louise Welsh
Moon shrugged. ‘Sometimes Willow just does things. Maybe because she thinks it’ll be funny or make her look cool. Lots of kids are like that. It’s boring where we come from, nothing but grass and mud and sea. People do stupid things to stop from killing themselves.’
Stevie said, ‘You’re trying to tell us that you stole little Evie to stop yourself from committing suicide?’
Moon’s voice sharpened. ‘I told you. I didn’t steal her. I didn’t even know Willow had her until we were on the boat. She was upset about her stepdad beating up Shug. They were leaving with Belle and the rest of us decided to go along.’ She glanced up at Ramsey. ‘I’m glad I did. I wouldn’t have met you if I hadn’t, but I had nothing to do with them taking Evie.’
‘There you have it, straight from the horse’s mouth.’ Ramsey slapped Moon’s rump. He had lost his previous assurance and there was something forced about the gesture. ‘Why don’t you trot off and find another pretty dress to wear?’
Joe put a hand on his friend’s arm. ‘Let her speak.’
Magnus had known Moon since she was a bewildered seven-year-old orphan. She had been Willow’s on–off best friend, close as shadows one day, bitter enemies the next.
He gentled his voice. ‘Moon, we need to find Evie and take her home to her mum. She’s only a baby, even littler than you were when you lost your real mum and dad.’
Moon looked away. ‘I don’t know where they took her.’
‘I believe you, but maybe you can help us work out why they took her. Had Willow talked about stealing Evie before? Even as a joke?’
The Alsatian trembled in his sleep. Moon sank onto the floor beside him and ran a hand lightly across the raised fur on his back.
‘We used to joke about how annoying Evie was.’
Magnus noted the past tense. ‘How was she annoying?’
‘It wasn’t her really. It was everyone else, all the grown-ups.’ The girl seemed to have forgotten that she counted herself amongst the adults. Her voice was softer, her features less guarded. ‘They acted like she was so special.’
‘And you didn’t think she was?’
Moon laid her face against the dog’s neck. ‘She was only a baby and babies are cute. I get that.’
Joe said, ‘I had a cute wee brother, he was the baby of the family. He got all my ma’s attention. I was jealous as hell of him.’
Moon cast him a grateful look. ‘No one would ever look at Evie and wonder why she lived but their kids died. No one would ever ask what she did to survive.’ She raised her head and looked at Magnus. ‘Willow felt it worse than the rest of us. We’re not meant to know, but people say she was starving when they found her. They say she was locked in a room with her mum and dad’s dead bodies and that she—’
‘Whoever says that is a liar,’ Stevie said. ‘I was there when they found her.’
Moon ignored her. ‘Willow told me once that she doesn’t remember what happened. She knows that she dreams about it, but the memories are always gone when she wakes up.’
Lord Ramsey looked at Stevie. ‘You should have had her put down, same as you should put down that dog of yours. There’s no coming back from some things.’
Moon’s voice was all breath. ‘She didn’t do it. People just said she did behind her back.’
Magnus asked, ‘Could that be why she took little Evie? To get revenge on the island? All those people who thought Evie was better than the rest of you because she’d been born after the Sweats?’
Moon stroked the Alsatian’s nose. ‘I told you. I don’t know why Willow took her, but I know she wished she hadn’t. She told Belle she wanted to turn the boat around and go back.’
‘But Belle wouldn’t?’
‘She said it was too late. Stevie would have us shot.’
Stevie looked at Moon. ‘And you believed her?’
‘I don’t know.’
Magnus slid from the worktop where he had been sitting. He crouched beside the girl and touched her good arm, his eyes level with hers. ‘Did you really think Stevie would have you shot?’
A pale strip of fur ran the length of the Alsatian’s spine. Moon stroked a finger along it. ‘Not now that I see you both, but Belle made it seem like it could be true. We stole a baby. That’s a big deal.’
‘Did you hurt her?’ Joe’s voice was casual, as if it might be natural for the child to somehow be hurt.
Moon kept her head low. ‘No.’
Joe leant forward in his seat. He put a finger beneath Moon’s chin and raised her head.
‘Look me in the eyes.’
Moon whispered, ‘I didn’t touch her.’
‘Did anyone hurt it?’
The girl fought back tears. ‘No. She cried a lot, but I think it was just because she missed her mum.’
Joe stared at the girl’s face a moment longer and then let her go. He turned to Magnus. ‘If you know Moon, you’ll know she’s not much of a liar. She didn’t steal the baby and no one hurt it while she was around.’ He nodded to the girl. ‘Okay, go and raid the wardrobes.’
Magnus stood up. ‘Just two more questions.’
Lord Ramsey gave an elaborate sigh. ‘Aren’t we meant to be desperados? I bet Pablo Escobar didn’t have to put up with this kind of shit.’
Joe said, ‘Ramsey’s right. What are you? The new law?’
Magnus took a seat opposite the Petrol Brothers.
‘I’m a crofter. Before the Sweats I was a stand-up comic. I was never much of a friend of the law, but my son Shug is one of the missing children.’
Joe asked, ‘How old is he?’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Not a child by the standards of these times.’
‘Maybe not, but he’s my boy. I need to make sure he’s okay. You’d do the same if he was yours.’
Joe looked away. Perhaps he was thinking of a young brother. He said, ‘Keep it quick. There are things needing done around here.’
Magnus reached out to Moon and guided her to the seat opposite his. Her plaits had come undone and her hair hung in corrugated strands. He brushed them away from her face. The girl’s eyes met his and he remembered how she had been greedy for sweet things as a child.
‘How was Shug?’
Moon bit her bottom lip. ‘He was quiet. Bjarne beat him up.’
‘I know. He was in a bad way when I last saw him.’
Moon caught a strand of hair in her fingers and wound it into a knot. ‘He had fallen out with Willow, so he was in a bad mood. You know how he gets.’
Magnus did. Shug would sink into long silences that might blow away suddenly like clouds in a northern sky or explode into violence. There was a fury in the boy that Magnus blamed on the Sweats. When he was little it had been easy to hold Shug down and talk to him until the urge to violence passed, but Magnus had long worried how his son would handle his temper as he got older.
‘Had they fallen out over Evie?’
The girl put the strand of hair into her mouth and sucked it. ‘Maybe. It was like they fell out before they got on the boat. I don’t think it was because of Willow’s dad. Everyone knows Willow hates Bjarne.’
Magnus saw Joe and Lord Ramsey’s eyes meet at the mention of Bjarne’s name. He filed the glance away, beside the observation that the girl spoke as if the trader was still alive.
‘Did Shug say why he left?’
‘Same as the rest of us, I suppose. He was sick of living on a shit-heap of an island. I guess Bjarne giving him a beating didn’t help.’
Lord Ramsey pushed his chair back. ‘It doesn’t sound like she’s got anything more to tell you.’ He sank the last of his glass. ‘Do you want to purchase any of our wares or just fuck off?’
‘Don’t worry, we’re customers.’ Magnus turned to Moon. ‘Where were they going?’
Joe said, ‘I can answer that. We traded them enough petrol to get to Glasgow.’
Stevie said, ‘What did they give you in return?’
‘None of your fucking business.�
� Lord Ramsey looked at Moon. ‘For Christ’s sake, stop sucking your hair like a sodding kitchen maid.’
Tears sprang into the girl’s eyes. She got to her feet, ready to bolt from the room. Magnus caught her by her good arm. Moon had been a pudgy child, prone to runny noses and tantrums. She had been the tag-along kid. The one no one warmed to. Now she had surrendered to the first man to call her beautiful.
He said, ‘I’m sorry if we let you down. The Sweats made a mess of everyone.’
Moon brushed away a tear. ‘What do you think it would be like, if it had never happened?’
Magnus shook his head. ‘I’ve trained myself not to ask that question.’ In his dreams he lived a different life, dazzled by stage lights, the audience’s laughter gusting him upwards, riding on a roar. ‘We have to play the hand we’re dealt. Shug and the rest of your friends are headed towards big trouble. You’ve got a choice. You can answer my questions and maybe help me find them, or you can turn your back on everyone.’
Moon looked at Lord Ramsey. He shrugged, ‘Make it quick.’
Magnus said, ‘What did Willow think of Candice?’
‘Willow thinks Candice’s a fool. She lets Bjarne treat her like shit.’
‘And Bjarne?’
‘She wishes he was dead.’
Magnus did not try to soften his words. ‘She got her wish. They’re both dead.’ The girl’s breath caught in her throat and he pressed his advantage home. ‘Someone shot them.’
Moon’s eyes were wide. ‘Willow hated Bjarne, but she loved Candice. Maybe she would have killed her dad in self-defence, if he was attacking her or something, but she would never hurt her mum. Willow thought Candice was stupid, but she felt sorry for her. We all did.’ The girl put her arms around Lord Ramsey’s neck and laid her head against his chest. ‘Poor Candi.’
The lord flinched and then folded his arms around Moon. His elbows and wrists stiff, like unoiled mechanisms. ‘You should have told us you were investigating a murder.’ He patted Moon awkwardly on the back and then pushed her from him.
Stevie said, ‘Moon, I know you think you’re in love, but so did Candice. She tied herself to Bjarne. Look where it got her.’
The girl rounded on her. ‘What would you know about it? You never loved anyone except that bloody dog. Maybe Candi shot Bjarne and then shot herself. Did you think of that? Bjarne was a pig, but she loved him and they died together. I wouldn’t want to live without Ramsey. He could beat me, tie me up and put me in a dungeon, but I’d still love him.’
Lord Ramsey touched her hair and twisted his mouth into a smile. ‘A dungeon’s a little old-school.’
Moon got up from the table and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her spine was straight and for the first time since they had come across her in the garden it was possible to imagine her as lady of the castle. ‘I’m sorry Candice and Bjarne were killed, but I don’t know anything about who might have killed them. I hope you find the others, but don’t expect them to want to go back with you.’ She looked at Stevie. ‘Please say thank you to Harry and Laura for all that they’ve done for me. Perhaps I’ll visit one day, when I have children of my own.’ She gave Magnus a quick, unexpected kiss on the cheek and darted from the room, her high heels ringing against the tiled floor. The door slammed behind her, waking the Alsatian who got to his feet and whined to be let outside.
Ramsey wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and downed another dram. ‘She’s young, but I think she’s up to the job.’ His eyes were glazed, his lips whisky-glossed. ‘My mother was young when father married her. He probably had even less of a choice than I did. He always said it was lean pickings in Debrett’s the year mother came out.’ His hand searched for the bottle and found it.
Joe said, ‘We came by the girl fair and square.’
Stevie pushed herself from the kitchen unit and let the dog out. ‘You got her in return for petrol, didn’t you? Moon was Belle’s side of the deal. Before the Sweats you would have been jailed for trafficking.’
Lord Ramsey’s voice was slurred. ‘She seems closer to sixteen than fourteen to me. Survivors always underestimate the age of the kids they find. Why do they do that?’ He filled his glass to the brim and took a sip, spilling some on his shirt. ‘And as you may have noticed, times have changed. Girls, or should I say women, of her age, have the best chance of giving birth to healthy children and remaining unscathed.’
Joe leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling as if the subject bored him.
‘Ramsey’s keen to carry on the family line.’
‘Joe disapproves.’ Lord Ramsey reached out and gave Joe’s hand a squeeze. ‘I daresay I would have disapproved too, before the Sweats. I never used to give a damn about that kind of thing. I had three brothers and a sister, all happy breeders, so I was free to gad my giddy life. Ironic I should be the only one left standing.’
Joe said, ‘He thinks it’s his duty.’
Lord Ramsey’s eyes were closing, his eyeballs waxy slits. ‘We’ve returned to the days of yore. I’m king of the castle. Little Moonbeam is my Guinevere and you’re the unlucky Lancelot, destined to love unwisely.’
Joe put his foot on Ramsey’s lap. ‘We’ll see about that.’
Stevie said, ‘Moon thinks she’s in love with you, but you’re just using her to get a child.’
Ramsey squeezed Joe’s toes. ‘I’m fond of the little squirt. I daresay I’ll be even fonder after she gives me an heir.’
‘She could be carrying Ramsey’s child already.’ Joe slid his foot away. ‘We’re not going to let you take her. We can shoot it out, but you’d be fighting an army. She wants to stay with us. Even if you won, you’d have to carry her kicking and screaming.’
Magnus’s eyes met Stevie’s. ‘We have to discuss this in private.’
Joe shrugged, ‘Do what you need to, but I’m telling you straight, she stays here.’
Lord Ramsey set his hands on the table. ‘I’m guessing you want the same as they did, a van and fuel.’
Stevie said, ‘We’ll get what we need elsewhere.’
Joe snorted. ‘I doubt it. Why do you think they nicknamed us the Petrol Brothers? Go to any town, any village, any farmhouse or caravan park in a fifty-mile radius. Wherever there’s fuel, you’ll find one of our guys.’
Ramsey gave a boozy grin. ‘Remember, I’m the God-anointed laird of this district. My ancestors have been in charge for aeons, so even though I may strike you as a silly ass, I know a thing or two about ruling. You’ll find no one willing to trade you petrol in these parts without my say-so.’
Stevie whispered, ‘There aren’t enough people left alive for you to have tied up a fifty-mile radius.’
‘How many people does it take? We’ve had seven years to get our stockpiles in order. Seven years to get the message across that we’re in charge.’ Lord Ramsey tilted the bottle, surveying the kitchen through a whisky filter – amber and gold. ‘Joe, why don’t you take them outside so they can have their private chat about how to steal my young bride from me and zoom off to the big city?’ Lord Ramsey put his feet on the kitchen table and looked at Stevie. ‘I’ll make you a generous deal. I’ll give you a van and enough petrol to get you to Glasgow if you shoot that dog.’
Stevie said, ‘Get to fuck.’
Magnus stood by her side. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
Through the window in the distance the sea crashed and foamed. The tide was going out, a strip of white sand beginning to appear on the other side of the headland.
Joe got to his feet. ‘Moon is happy here and unlike on your island there are no murders in our jurisdiction.’
‘None that we haven’t scheduled.’ Lord Ramsey laughed. ‘If you want to arrive in Glasgow in time to track down your runaways, you’d better give me that hound’s head on a plate.’
Stevie leaned across the table, putting her face close to his. ‘I’d shoot you first.’
Lord Ramsey took his feet off the table and leaned towards Stevie. Their
breath touched.
‘I’d be careful who you say that in front of. A lot of people want to catch the eye of power. They might decide to impress me with a present. Could be the dog’s head, could be yours. It depends how ambitious they are.’
Twenty-Seven
The walls of the keep were thick and made of stone. Magnus and Stevie followed Joe through the darkness of the winding staircase that led up from the kitchen, into the shadows of the entrance hall. The space was cool as a cistern and silent, except for the sound of their footsteps against the flagstones.
Magnus said, ‘Can you carry out your own negotiations, or are you just his boy?’
Joe’s laugh was amused. ‘I’m his boy, or did you not work that out?’
Stevie said, ‘Aren’t you jealous?’
‘Of wee Planet? She’s far out in the solar system. The poor wee thing’s jealous of me, but she’s young yet. It’ll change when she has a wean. She’ll not have time to be jealous then.’
Joe opened the small door cut into the castle’s heavy wooden entrance. He led them out into the pink close-of-day and a hubbub of noise and laughter. Twenty or so men were camped on the scrub of lawn. A deer was being barbecued on a spit over an open fire, scenting the air with roast meat and wood smoke. Some men tended to horses, others erected brightly coloured nylon tents. Small clusters gossiped amongst themselves. But more than one soldier sat alone, staring into the darkening landscape. Eyes followed them as they stepped from the castle. Stevie found herself scanning the groups, looking for faces she might recognise from before. There was no one she knew, only hunger.
Joe said, ‘This is just one of our divisions. Our army isn’t big but it’s loyal. We promise our people security and they give us their fealty in return. Most of them have turned to crofting. We come together every couple of weeks for training. It keeps us connected. They enjoy it.’
Magnus said, ‘I’m guessing “fealty” is one of Lord Ramsey’s words.’
‘Wrong again, it’s one of mine. I was studying political science at Durham University when the Sweats broke out. Machiavelli’s The Prince was a set text. It’s been a good friend to me. As the man says, “He who wishes to be obeyed must know how to command.” ’
