‘Just as well they’re dead,’ I said coldly.
‘You don’t believe that!’
‘Matrix requires a report.’
He ignored me. Instead, he turned to look at the monument that had been taking my attention. ‘David Hume,’ he said. ‘Your mother’s favourite.’
‘Mine too.’
‘He would have hated all this,’ he indicated the monument of the renowned atheist with a dismissive gesture. ‘Praise be to God, indeed!’
‘He was a pragmatist,’ I said, ‘he would have enjoyed the irony, and anyway,’ I added with a sly grin, ‘if he’s in a position to be offended then I guess they’ve proved him wrong, after all.’
He laughed at that.
‘Do you have a report?’
‘Aye.’
I regarded him intently. ‘Have you had any luck?’
‘Aye,’ he said smugly. ‘I’ve an invitation from Martin Harrison to spend the weekend at Galmpton Court – the country estate of a friend of his – shooting and fishing and other blood sports not yet specified.’
‘Let’s hope it doesn’t involve some poor substrata sod.’
‘What’s substrata mean?’
‘People like me.’
‘Like you?’
‘People who live below the norm; people without ID cards; people with criminal convictions, the homeless, the addicts, the dross of society; the sick; the sub-norm; the people we’d all like to ignore, forget about.’ I paused. ‘You meet them all the time in your profession; the prisons are full of them.’
‘And you’re their God,’ he stated. He plucked a flower, barely in bloom, and stared at it, deep in thought. ‘This friend is someone called Henry Fuller,’ he said. ‘A rich man with a taste for politics of the far right variety. I’m not sure if he’s a member of New Fabian, but he’s given some financial support, I’m sure of it.’
‘Are you going?’
‘What would Matrix like me to do?’
‘Oh, without doubt, he would want you to go – but then, if you’re scared ...’
‘I’m scared they’re going to want me to join them.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘It would mean one of those nasty tattoos.’ He indicated his left underarm.
‘You’ll survive.’
‘Even so – a nasty thing to have to explain to the wife.’
‘You’ll get used to it.’
He leaned forward and touched my neck. ‘Like you have?’
I turned away. ‘I’d like you to go,’ I said. ‘We’ll try and pull you out before it looks like they’re going to mark your pretty skin.’
‘Oh, don’t worry; you’re quite right, I’ll cope. After all, I’m all you’ve got.’
That’s what you think I thought. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You are all we’ve got and we need the money.’
He gave a big sigh. ‘Then I’ll do it.’ He looked at me keenly. ‘When are you going to make contact with the family?’
‘Never!’ I said firmly. ‘It’s bad enough putting you at risk; I’ll not put anyone else in danger.’
‘So, you do care?’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a computer stick.
‘What’s that?’
‘My report and your memoirs back.’
I took the stick. ‘I don’t want my memoirs, as you call them. They were only intended to show you the urgency of the cause.’
‘And I was convinced. I thought you might want them back.’
‘Not really. I intend to destroy them anyway.’
‘That would be a grave mistake.’
‘I’ll be the judge ...’
‘This isn’t just your testimony. It’s the testimony of thousands. It’s the testimony of all those who can no longer speak. This is too important to destroy. You need it to bear witness to the suffering of many.’ He smiled his usual charming smile. ‘And although I need to remain anonymous for now, some day I’d like the people to know the part that I played in the Discard Revolution.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ I said.
He nodded. ‘Take care,’ he said. ‘You’re your father’s child. You carry his unique qualities – everything that made him the most special person I’ve ever met. I should know. Never forget this.’ He reached forward and touched my cheek, my ugly black tattoo, and he walked away.
Chapter 52
I was cold all of the time. I assume I must have been hungry as well since I don’t remember eating much. I lived in squalor. My life was damp, dirty, lonely and uncomfortable. More than anything I was cold. I sat in draughty doorways shivering until my bones ached.
I was kicked and cursed, beaten and abused. I was hated by the good because I represented Fabian and by the bad because I was a down and out, a pen pusher and a drunk.
The cold chilled my bones and never left me. I never felt warm, only varying degrees of cold. I smelt of my own sweat, urine and grime; even I could smell me. I don’t believe I washed the entire time I was homeless. I was the lowest of my kind. Most of the others at least tried to maintain some form of dignity. I had none. I no longer cared. I despised myself too much for that.
I wandered the streets – huddled in the rain, sleet and frost – and I moved north. I was a lost, confused, vague creature with no home, no aim – except the next fix – and no one to love or be loved by.
Eventually I crossed the border. I was home. I celebrated by stealing some money, buying some stuff and shooting my veins; then I huddled in a doorway, dreaming my dreams – cold, wet and miserable.
**********************
June 2039
I was chuckling softly to myself and caught myself doing it. It was a shock. Once, before, when I was that other person, I used to laugh a lot. I used to make others laugh. Now it was rare for me even to smile. I thought I had forgotten joy and then it had suddenly taken me by surprise. Sitting here all by myself, I had laughed. I thought fondly of Caitlin. She was my one spark in a gloomy world and I had not seen her since Christmas. I didn’t expect to see much of her this summer, either; life had become too precarious, too busy for a child.
I ran my finger over the keyboard of my computer and indulged in another small laugh and then I got caught out.
‘What are you laughing at?’
I had forgotten it was Sonia’s day for cleaning. I had forgotten she was even in the house. ‘Nothing,’ I said, the laugh instantly gone. I turned to face her but I couldn’t see her today. My jigsaw sight was obscuring too much of my vision. She was just a series of blank dark patches, but I could guess she was frowning at me. I looked at her, feeling defiant.
She moved in closer and I could smell her. ‘It can’t have been nothing,’ she persisted.
‘I meant, nothing much.’
Suspicion hung all around her. ‘I expect it was something disgusting,’ she said, and I felt her move away.
Normally, I would have let her indulge her nasty thoughts about me, but I realised that we still needed to talk. Andrew had reminded me as much only the night before. ‘It’s only Cyclops,’ I said.
She stood close to me, filling my mind with the thoughts of wild heather. ‘Who’s Cyclops?’ she asked.
‘My chess partner.’
‘You have a chess partner?’
‘Yes, we’ve been playing for some time now. He’s very good; one of the best.’
‘So, I presume you were laughing because you had just beaten him!’ She sounded dismissive, contemptuous.
I sat back to look at her more closely. It made no difference; she was still just a series of dark patches. ‘Actually, I was laughing because the bastard had just beaten me.’
‘Why was that so funny?’
‘He’s a clever man. He had me running for ages and then he popped out and checkmated me. It was just funny.’ I sighed. ‘It’s hard to explain.’
‘How do you know it’s a man?’
‘Oh, I know.’
‘How? It could be a woman. Or is that too ridiculous?’
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not ridiculous, and you’re quite right, it could be a woman.’
She seemed satisfied with my defeat and was silent. I let her enjoy her moment of triumph. After all, she couldn’t know why I was so certain that Cyclops was a man.
‘Is that food I can smell?’ I asked.
‘Yes, I’ve brought you some stew. You’re too thin. You don’t eat enough.’
‘Thank you.’ I tried to sound humble; she wasn’t convinced.
‘What do you call yourself?’
I was startled. ‘What?’
She put on her patient voice. ‘Well, I assume her real name isn’t Cyclops.’
‘Oh, no ...’ So, we had decided it was a woman. ‘What do you think it is, Sonia?’
‘You haven’t given yourself that stupid name, have you?’
‘What stupid name?’ I knew but I wanted her to say it. I knew she hated saying it.
She made a noise of distaste. ‘You know!’
‘You tell me.’
‘Matrix,’ she said at last.
‘No,’ I said, ‘I haven’t used that name.’ Now that would be disastrous.
‘So, what have you called yourself?’
‘A name that suits me.’
‘Which is?’
‘You figure it out – and when you do, let me know.’
‘How about goatee?’
To my surprise, I laughed again. ‘What?’
‘Your beard,’ she explained.
‘I knew you didn’t like my beard.’
She was silent for a while. ‘Actually, I think it suits you.’
Today was full of surprises. ‘Thank you.’
She was about to move away. ‘It’s Hephaestus,’ I said.
‘What?’
‘My chess name, it’s Hephaestus.’
‘Who or what is that?’
‘Look it up.’
She gave an impatient noise and went to move away again. This was the right time; we had almost been nice to each other. ‘He’s a Greek God,’ I explained.
‘You named yourself after a Greek God?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised!’ I was feeling insulted.
‘It’s just not what I would have expected; anyway, I’ve never heard of him.’ She sounded dismissive.
‘He was married to Aphrodite.’
‘Oh, really?’ Now she sounded interested.
‘She cheated on him.’
‘David!’
‘They couldn’t have married for love, always a mistake.’
She was silent. She was obviously thinking about it. I knew that now was my chance. ‘By the way,’ I said casually, as if the thought had just occurred to me. ‘Have you fixed a date yet for marrying your minister?’
‘As a matter of fact, we have. Why?’
‘Just wondering.’
‘We’re going to marry in October. Fraser has a number of retreats he’s running this summer so we’re going to wait.’
‘Bloody cold and wet then.’
‘It can be cold and wet anytime here.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘You are coming to the wedding, aren’t you?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
‘Sonia, your fiancé doesn’t like me very much.’
‘I want you two to be friends.’
‘That’s not possible.’
‘You haven’t given him a chance.’
‘He mentions me just about every week in his sermon, I understand.’
‘How did you know? Oh, Euan told you.’
‘Euan has mentioned it, yes.’
‘I have asked Fraser not to do that.’
‘Talk of sodomites burning in hell, not sure if he’d appreciate me at your wedding.’
‘David!’
‘Sonia, why are you marrying him?’ There I had said it.
‘What a strange question.’
‘You should only marry for love, anything else would be wrong. Only marry him if you love him.’
‘What makes you think I don’t?’
‘I know you and I know him. He’ll put you in a cage and then complain when you fade away and die. He’s not the man for you. You’re a wild spirit and he’s a beast. Don’t let him devour you.’ I hardly knew what I was saying. It came out and surprised even me. As I said it was a day of surprises.
‘You can’t possibly understand,’ she muttered.
‘I almost married once,’ I said.
‘You’ve never said before.’
‘It would’ve been a mistake. We didn’t love each other.’ I thought of Judith. ‘I know what love feels like. It’s all consuming, nothing else matters. It’s not logical. It doesn’t wait for retreats or convenience; it takes over, you’ve no idea!’
‘How dare you?’ she cried. ‘How dare you say such things? How dare you presume?’ She was so angry; she could barely get the words out. ‘You think you’ve some ownership of love? You think you’re the only one to feel? I do love! I am in love! I feel so much here!’ She beat her chest. I heard her. I felt her. ‘It hurts!’ she shouted. ‘It hurts and I don’t know what to do about it!’ She reached out to me and I flinched. ‘You selfish bastard!’ she yelled, and then she ran out of the room and my house. I had not expected the passion in her voice; the declaration of love had shocked me.
I moved across to my view, a view I could barely see. It was a low gloomy day, clouds hung heavy in the sky. I looked down to the lochs and in my mind I could see the clouds swimming within the deep dark water, drifting into their dark sullen depths, trapped. That’s what they did; they swallowed you up and they didn’t care.
Chapter 53
‘You fucked up, Matrix.’
We were sitting in a club in Carlisle. ‘Thanks for that, General,’ I said. He smiled and shook his head. ‘How’s wee Hamish?’
That wiped the smile from his face. ‘Cries a lot,’ he said.
‘Babies do.’
‘This is serious,’ said Andrew.
‘No, it’s not,’ I said, feeling flippant. ‘It’s normal for babies to cry a lot. You should know; you’re a doctor.’
‘David!’
‘I can’t do anything about it,’ I said. ‘She’s in love with him. You should have heard her. She spoke with such passion. I’ve never heard her speak like that. I heard it in her voice.’
‘Oh, David!’ He sounded exasperated. ‘Now, I’m going to have to speak to her.’
‘You give me too much credit,’ I said firmly. I don’t have that much influence with her.’
‘You’re wrong.’
‘You didn’t hear her. She loves him. She told me so.’
Andrew shook his head. ‘If she marries that maniac, you’ll never forgive yourself.’
‘I don’t want her to marry him,’ I said. ‘This may surprise you but I’m quite fond of her. She doesn’t deserve him. Although I think she can probably handle him better than you think. But you can’t argue with someone who’s in love. Whatever I say will simply entrench her further.’
‘She doesn’t love him.’
‘Is that what she told you?’ I asked, curious.
Andrew leaned forward. ‘I want you to make an act of faith and tell her what you’re doing. What we’re all doing. She deserves to know.’
‘Absolutely not!’
‘And why not?’
‘Because she’s about to marry one of my enemies and because it’s too dangerous. She’s safer not knowing.’
‘Just do it for me, David.’ He got up to get himself another drink.
‘You’re going to have to try again, Matrix,’ said Angus, also getting up.
At that moment Gill came over. She was her usual forthright self. ‘I canna believe that foolish brother of mine sometimes,’ she said.
‘Why?’
‘Getting himself a tattoo at his age.’
‘It is a very beautiful one.’
‘Ugly thing! He’s old enough to know
better.’
‘He’s old enough to know what’s important,’ said Angus, sitting back down.
She eyed him coldly. ‘So, this Bràithreachas of yours. What does it look like? Does it have a structure?’
Angus smiled. ‘Aye, it does.’
‘So, what is it?’
‘We are all equal.’ She snorted. ‘Simple enough for you?’ He stalked off.
Gill leaned in close to me. ‘I remember that man when he was just a baby. If he thinks ...’
‘Gill, we have a structure and it is simple.’
‘So, what is it?’
I laid out my hands flat on the table. ‘Everyone is equal.’
She was about to speak, but I forestalled her. ‘The General’s our leader. He’s responsible for all of us, for our safety and our well-being ...’
‘No, wait a minute. I thought you were in charge?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m not in charge of Bràithreachas; the General is. I’m answerable to him.’ She looked at me in disbelief. ‘And he’s answerable to me. Gill, I need a General, a man who’ll be strong and ruthless.’ I touched my leg. ‘A man who’s not a half-blind cripple.’
‘You see more than he ever will.’
‘We have the General and, supporting him, the Blood Brothers. Of which Andrew is one.’ Again, she snorted. ‘We couldn’t have it any other way. Bràithreachas must be strong and it’s the Blood Brothers that’ll make it so.’ I started moving things around on the table. ‘We have Captains,’ I said, placing some glasses in a row. ‘Bràithreachas is divided into Snares. Each Snare has a Captain and contains anything from five to twenty soldiers.’ I sprinkled some nuts around each glass. ‘All the Captains have a distinctive tattoo that marks their rank. This is one of the things that define us. It’s a small thing, but it shows our commitment to our ideal. All our soldiers can have a tattoo, which tells anyone who understands who and what he is.’
I pushed each glass with its small cluster of nuts apart. ‘Only the Blood Brothers know who the Captains are and they won’t know all of them. Only two people have all the knowledge: Matrix and the General. Each Snare is ignorant of the other. So, if we have a traitor, he can only betray a finite number not the whole organisation.’
‘Or if someone is captured ...’ she said.
I nodded. ‘Yes, for that reason, as well.’
The Dream Catcher Diaries Page 34
