‘As I said, I’m looking at other ways to earn money.’ She looked sceptical – she had every reason to.
We had a quiet Christmas. Some people came to visit the village over the Christmas week and Hogmanay – people I knew from a previous life, people I did not want to meet again. The villagers were informed and, suddenly, the man on the hill didn’t exist anymore. The strangers were made to feel unwelcome. I wanted to be sure they would never come back again; from what I understood, they got the message. When they had gone, I breathed a sigh of relief. Their presence had brought me new nightmares; when they left, they took the nightmares with them.
That only left me with the ones that never left me because they were part of my reality, anyway.
**********************
I was flung onto my bed. I fell in an agonised heap as my leg and side smacked against the floor. The door was slammed shut and I was left alone. I lay waiting for the next move; nothing happened. I turned and looked around me. This was the first time I had seen my bedroom. It was – as you would expect – a gloomy, sordid room. The walls were painted dark red and the ceiling and floor were black. Beyond that I could see nothing except shapes in the dark.
I soon drifted back to sleep. Although the room was only ever heated when we had clients, it seemed relatively warm compared to outside, and so I fell into a confused sleep of bright lights, loud noises and intense pain.
I was woken up abruptly by the sound of the door opening and light filtering into the bedroom. I lay absolutely still. A figure walked in. He spoke with Spider’s voice. ‘I’m just going to truss him up.’
‘Don’t bother,’ said Amos from the other room. ‘Whitey’ll be here in a minute; we’ll start on him then. He’s not going anywhere. Come back in here, leave him be. I want you to look at something.’
Spider disappeared back into the living area. The door swung gently open after him. He had failed to shut it properly. I could still feel the light against my eyelids. I fell asleep again.
**********************
Despite my caution, we were still able to go visiting. Andrew’s sister, Gill, had come to stay. It was the first time she had met Caitlin. I was very fond of Gill; she was delightful, a female version of her brother – only fiercer and with hair. Caitlin was completely taken with her. That night when we left the doctor’s house, she informed me that perhaps she would like to be a doctor instead of a nun.
‘That’s different,’ I said.
‘Not really.’
‘How are they the same?’
‘A nun tends a sick soul and a doctor tends a sick body.’ She shrugged her shoulders.
We were walking home and I stopped in amazement. ‘Caitlin,’ I said. ‘Why not try being a child? You might find you liked it.’ She hit me and we walked on giggling.
I also took her to visit Sonia’s father. I had become a frequent visitor since Judith had died. He took one look at Caitlin and said, ‘So, this is the bastard child?’
‘Don’t swear!’ said Caitlin sternly.
He didn’t either. I have never seen him so well behaved.
We had a pleasant evening. He made Caitlin laugh – and that was always good to see. Then Sonia came home with Fraser Drummond and I left immediately.
We stepped out into the snow and walked in silence. ‘You don’t like the minister very much, do you Daddy?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
I stopped and gazed down at her. ‘Listen, Caitlin, there are bad people in this world, people who mean harm. You have to learn to recognise them; you have to learn to keep away from them.’
‘But the Reverend is a man of God!’
‘He’s a wicked man and if he ever touches you, you must tell me.’
‘But what about Sonia? She’s going to marry him.’
‘Sonia can take care of herself,’ I said. ‘Now let’s go home, it’s bloody freezing out here.’ I went to walk off.
‘But, Daddy!’ Caitlin hadn’t moved.
I stopped and looked back at her. She was such a small vulnerable figure, standing in the snow, screwing up her face against the cold. ‘Come on, Caitlin,’ I said, holding out my free hand.
She ran up to me. ‘But, Daddy,’ she said, ‘it’s you she likes!’
I laughed out loud. ‘I don’t think so, Caitlin. Sonia doesn’t like your daddy very much.’
She shook her head firmly. ‘But she does! I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She likes you lots! She doesn’t like the minister!’
Caitlin had a wonderful imagination.
Chapter 42
I was confused. I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t wearing the breaking irons, or the lock, or the bridle. I couldn’t understand why I was lying on my bed with no ropes or chains. Something was wrong and I started to worry. Where were my captors? Where was I? Pain seeped through my leg and down my side, reminding me that I had something to worry about – but I couldn’t remember what.
I turned my head and gazed out of my door for the first time. People were sitting around a table. I was vaguely aware that something important was happening and I needed to know what that was, but the drugs still held me in their grip and, instead of watching and listening, I drifted back to sleep again.
**********************
‘Is Matrix in?’
‘Don’t call him that!’
I heard Angus sigh. ‘Is he in?’
‘What have you got there?’ Sonia still did not trust Angus, despite the fact that he no longer appeared to wish to kill me. Angus came in, followed closely by Sonia.
I was working. I didn’t look up. ‘Hello, Angus,’ I murmured.
‘Good morning, Matrix!’ he said cheerfully. He placed a small metal box on the table. ‘A present for you,’ he said. I shuddered and felt my mind sink.
Angus touched me gently. I gave a start. ‘Don’t ...’ I said.
‘I have something,’ he said.
‘Is it going to hurt?’ I asked. I still hadn’t returned. I was still in another place.
‘Yes, but it’ll be worth it.’
Where had I heard that before?
Sonia was watching us closely. ‘Leave him alone,’ she said. ‘He’s not well.’
‘Go for a walk,’ said Angus.
Sonia turned to me. ‘We’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘We’ve things to discuss.’
She left and I tried desperately to return.
**********************
When I next opened my eyes I was lying on my side. I could see people sitting around a table. I was reading their lips, but I wasn’t registering what I was reading.
‘It’s a building site.’
‘Where?’
‘Not far.’
‘You sure he’s NF?’
‘Course I am! He’s a good bloke - a true white man!’
‘Will he do it?’
‘All he has to do is turn around and make sure the others aren’t looking.’
‘I don’t see why we can’t dump it where we usually do?’
‘Orders from the top; just do what you’re told!’
‘This is better. The body gets dropped and the cement covers it up straight away.’
‘And then...?’
‘And then Matrix is history!’
Everyone laughed. It was funny.
They were talking about dumping my body in the foundation of the new History Museum.
At that point I turned over and fell asleep again.
**********************
Angus had opened his box and was pulling out needles. He smiled at me. ‘Time to put something decent on that arm of yours,’ he said.
‘What is it?’
‘Highlanders are famous for their tattooing skills. I, of course, am no exception.’ Angus was always making dubious claims on behalf of the Highlanders.
‘Oh, yes.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t worry. It doesn’t really hurt.’ He pulled out a needle. ‘Just tickles a bit.’
<
br /> ‘Angus, I really think I’ve enough marks on my body...’
‘I’ve been working on this for some time,’ he said. ‘I’ve done Stewart and Euan, so I’m well practised for you.’ He pointed at my left arm. ‘Roll up your sleeve. I’m about to place something of great beauty there.’
I did as I was told. He had no idea what an act of faith this was for me. He was right, though; it didn’t hurt at all. The tattoo was very beautiful. We all had one – even the doctor had a small mark of respect placed on his arm. That’s what Angus called his tattoos: ‘The Mark of Respect’.
Angus and Stewart were very talented. They knew how to create beautiful works of art on the skin. But more important, it formed part of our identity; to bear the mark of the Brotherhood became something to be proud of – an honour, an achievement, a recognition of status. It helped to define us. It wasn’t hidden like the Fabian mark. It was large, colourful and glorious and it sat proudly on the upper left arm for all to see. Bràithreachas had its leaders and they were proud to be recognised as such.
Chapter 43
February 2039
‘We’re not all bad,’ murmured Fox.
‘So you say.’
‘You wouldn’t be talking to me if you believed otherwise.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So, what do you want?’
‘I need a list.’
He looked puzzled. ‘What sort of list?’
‘A list of all NF members.’
‘Yeh, sure!’
‘All NF members – well, in the police at least.’
‘And why would they give me such a list?’
‘They will.’
‘I’m telling you, they would never give me a list.’
‘They would,’ I insisted, ‘someone of your rank – and if you were a member...’
‘What?’
‘I want you to join Fabian.’
He laughed. ‘You’ve got to be joking!’
‘I need names.’
‘What’ll you do with them?’
‘I need to know who I can trust.’
‘It would give NF membership, nothing more. There are bad police officers who are not members.’
‘Well, you said it.’
‘So why do you want the list?’
‘Do you need to know?’
‘Yes, if I’m supplying the names and joining a racist organisation that believes that Hitler was just misunderstood ...’
‘I want them dead.’
‘Oh, shit!’
‘You asked.’
He almost spoke my name.
I interrupted. ‘Matrix,’ I said. ‘My name is Matrix.’
‘You always hated that name.’
‘That was before I decided to live up to it.’ I leaned forward. ‘Do you want these people in the police force?’ I asked.
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘You read my notes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you remember what happened to me at that police station in Manchester?’
‘It’s just that ...’
‘Do you want me to remind you how many police officers fucked me? What they said to me when they did it?’
He tried my name again.
‘Matrix! Call me by my proper name,’ I said, ‘they did.’
‘You’ll never be that to me.’
I sat back and rolled a cigarette, observing him closely. I knew he would agree. I felt it in him. I remembered all those years ago when we first met. He was a man of integrity, a man of strength, a man who cared.
‘I can’t do it,’ he said at last.
I lit my cigarette and watched the smoke rise. ‘I was wearing the lock and breaking irons,’ I mused. ‘They stripped me of my clothes. They thought it was a joke – they thought I was a joke. They paraded me up and down, naked except for the irons; they made me perform.’ I held my cigarette up. ‘Shall I tell you where they liked to put their lighted cigarettes?’
‘It would take time to get such a list.’
‘We don’t have time.’
‘I have to win their trust; get the names; all of that takes time.’
‘People are being tortured and dying as we speak.’
He dropped his head in his hands. The silence was long and deep. ‘I’m sorry – I’m so sorry about what they did to you.’
‘I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want your pity. I want your help. I want that list.’ I watched him intently as I spoke. ‘I want as many names as you can get. My guess is that someone in your position could get me NF names in the police, social care, criminal justice, everywhere. Do you know what we could do with such a list?’
‘Men would die.’
‘No, not men – not animals even; they’re worse than that. They have forfeited your protection.’ I leaned in closer. ‘I don’t have many men. What I have must be used wisely, precisely. I need to work like a surgeon, not a butcher.’ I shook my head. ‘I’m not a butcher; I’m more than that. I am Matrix and I’m asking for your allegiance.’
Fox closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. He opened his eyes again. ‘It’ll take time, but I know who to approach. I know of one man who’s a member. I haven’t been able to prove it.’
I waited.
‘It’s not as easy as you think,’ he muttered.
‘I have a plan,’ I said. ‘One that safeguards you and gets us what we want. All you have to do is become a member.’ I smiled. ‘Think of it as a career move.’
He groaned.
‘You may find promotion follows pretty quickly from membership.’
‘A high price to pay.’
‘Not if you remain true to the Brotherhood. We need someone like you in there. We need those names. We need to start saving some lives.’
He stared into space and I knew he was reliving memories, my memories, the ones I had given him. He spoke at last, hardly a whisper. ‘I give my allegiance to Matrix,’ he whispered.
‘Not good enough.’
‘What do you want?’
I smiled again. ‘I want your blood.’
**********************
I opened my eyes with a shock. Suddenly I understood what danger I was in. I understood everything! I had no idea how long my new understanding would last but it had finally come. Cautiously, I turned back over and peered out into that room and saw my captors for the first time.
I recognised them all. I could guess which was Spider and which was Amos simply by their build.
Spider walked heavier than Amos. He carried more weight. He was the bulkier of the two. He was also the one with the spider tattoos down his arm. Amos was lighter, taller and stronger.
They were similar but not identical.
I wish I could describe them better. But at the time I was in no state to carry out a detailed scrutiny and, anyway, the most remarkable thing about the Ross twins was that they were so ordinary. They were the sort of men who would walk in a pub and ten minutes after they left no one would remember they had been in there. They both had very average blue eyes; short, thick, curly, brown hair and straight noses. Their lips were full, but not unusually so. They were running slightly to fat, but were not obese. They were just very ordinary. No one would ever describe them as ugly or handsome, or even plain. They just were.
Mother was an older, fatter, female version of her sons, except her face carried a look of permanent scorn. Her lips were set in a sneer and her nose was pinched and angry. Her huge bosoms sagged down as if they had given up and she rested heavily against some crutches; otherwise, like her sons, she was a very ordinary woman.
There was just one person of note in the group and that was, of course, Whitey. No one needed to tell me who he was. I could not mistake him. I had assumed that his nickname was as a result of his name, Geoff Whitely, but I was wrong. He was called Whitey because he was the whitest man I had ever seen. He had long white hair tied back in a ponytail and pale skin stretched taut over a narrow bony face. His eyes were p
ale blue and almond shaped and his thin lips were colourless. He was dressed completely in black. This served to accentuate his pale, washed-out complexion. If it were not for the clothes, he could almost have been a ghost.
In a way he was a ghost – to me at least – because I recognised him. I had never met him before but still I knew him. He was part of my past, part of my family’s past and now he was my present, my terrible present.
These, then, were my captors plotting my death.
Chapter 44
Across the land a worm is threading its way through every fabric of our society. One man sits next to another, a man he has known for years, but a man he now knows completely. One woman passes a cup of tea to a colleague. She smiles and knows that soon it will be a knife. Two people work side by side on an assembly line, one knows everything, the other knows nothing; a passing nod, a hidden smile, a turn of the head and a wink of the eye; a world about to be turned upside down, a world that is no longer what it pretends to be. The Matrix worm is spreading and no one notices.
***********************
March 2039
‘It’s cortisone.’
‘I know that.’
He hovered with the needle. I wished he would just get on with it. The needle was a brutal affair and it was not pleasant to see it inches from my knee.
‘It’s going to hurt.’
‘Andrew,’ I said patiently. ‘You’ve given me cortisone before. I know it hurts like buggery. Now get on with it!’
Still he hovered.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said sadly.
‘But you’re a doctor. You must be used to that by now!’
‘It’s not that.’
‘Besides, I thought that the whole idea was that it would relieve some of the pain. Andrew, my leg is giving me hell. I can’t concentrate anymore. I need something!’
It was not a good day for me. I couldn’t read his face. ‘What’s bothering you? Are you trying to tell me that this is going to hurt even more than before?’
The Dream Catcher Diaries Page 29
