Death is a Welcome Guest: Plague Times Trilogy 2

by Louise Welsh

  Dawn would be on them soon. The room was beginning to lighten, its colours starting to reveal themselves: warm yellows and umbers set against a backdrop of white that was not white but some cleverly calibrated pink or blue.

  Magnus said, ‘For good or for bad, I need to know.’

  ‘Of course you do. But you also know I’m right. The real reason you’re trying to find out who killed Jacob is to avoid going home. You want to keep your family alive, in your head if nowhere else.’

  Magnus got up and went to the window. The storm had almost blown itself out. The rising sun was still hidden behind the treetops, but the sky was tinged with pink and the landscape had taken on a rosy tint at odds with the heaviness in his chest.

  He said, ‘You surely don’t believe Belle murdered Melody and then went on to shoot Jacob because of some love triangle?’

  Raisha joined him at the window. Magnus was still naked except for the blanket and her closeness bothered him. She said, ‘Of course not. Even if it was a serious motive I don’t think Belle has it in her to kill anyone in cold blood. She’s not as soft as she looks, but it’s hard to imagine her as a murderer.’

  He turned to face her. ‘Perhaps it wasn’t any of them.’

  Raisha touched his bare shoulder with her fingertips. She leaned in close, as if for a kiss, and whispered, ‘Or perhaps it was your friend, the child-killer.’

  Magnus lifted Raisha’s hand from his shoulder. His clothes were hanging on the dining chairs where he had left them. He crossed the room and felt his jeans. They were still wet, but he pulled them on, wincing at the cold cardboard sensation of damp denim against his skin.

  ‘How was Belle after Melody’s suicide?’ Magnus shucked on his muddy T-shirt.

  Raisha had returned to the couch and sat watching him with an amused expression on her face. ‘True to character. The real tragedy wasn’t Melody’s death but that it made Belle feel bad.’

  He pulled out a chair and sat on it. ‘You’re hard on her.’

  ‘Perhaps, but you weren’t there. She was so hysterical there was no space for anyone else to grieve. In the end I gave her something to help her sleep.’

  Magnus wondered if Raisha had been jealous of Belle the way she said the girl had been of Melody.

  As if on cue she said, ‘You didn’t ask about me.’

  ‘Okay, how about you?’

  Raisha levelled her gaze and her eyes met his. ‘A big part of me was sorry Melody killed herself, another part envied her for having the strength to do it.’

  Her words about medicating Melody and sedating Belle had reminded Magnus that Raisha was a chemist. He said, ‘Are you planning on killing yourself?’

  ‘I told you, I can’t. I’m cursed with life.’

  She gave the smile that signalled that Magnus could come to her. But the sun was fully up and all around the large room there were signs of the family who used to live there. Ghosts were meant to occupy the dark, but it felt to him that they had become more alive with the day. Magnus pulled on his socks and boots, ready to leave the house to them.

  Thirty-Five

  They embraced on the doorstep of the deserted house. Raisha’s hair was damp. Magnus breathed in its rosemary and lavender scent and wished that they had braved the phantoms and grasped a last chance to make love. He felt the slightness of Raisha’s frame, her birdlike bones beneath their thin coating of flesh, and remembered the women Belle had seen chained together.

  ‘Be careful, there are dangerous people about.’

  ‘That’s why I’m travelling quietly.’ Raisha pulled free of his grasp and nodded to a bicycle, a lightweight multi-gear affair, propped against the wall of the house. A cycling helmet dangled from its handlebars. ‘It’s the reason I came back here.’

  ‘Did you bury the children who lived in this house?’

  ‘It was empty. Maybe they’re alive somewhere, with their parents.’ Raisha’s eyes met his. ‘You think I’m mad.’

  ‘Not mad, but I don’t understand why you do it.’

  She leaned into him, her arms circled his waist and she spoke into his chest. ‘I didn’t set out to become an undertaker. I wanted to find children who were alive and make them safe, but all I found were corpses. I couldn’t leave them to rot.’

  Magnus stroked her hair. ‘And now?’

  ‘That’s another reason I have to move on.’ Raisha pulled away. She tucked her trousers into her socks, ready to mount the bike. ‘If there are children left alive, then they need someone to look after them.’

  ‘Did you sleep with me in the hope of becoming pregnant?’ The thought would have infuriated him before the sweats.

  Raisha looked up. ‘I slept with you to shut out the pictures in my head. My second boy, Imran, was a difficult pregnancy and an even more difficult birth. We were both lucky to survive, but I can’t have any more children. I came to terms with it; after all I had two beautiful, healthy boys.’

  A swoop of disappointment pierced Magnus’s chest. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Raisha nodded, acknowledging his sympathy. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  ‘I’ve decided not to dwell on how things were, or how they are. I’m going to try and imagine how they might be. You should do the same. Forget Jacob, Jeb and the rest of them, they’ll only bring you more grief.’

  It was good advice, impossible for him to take.

  Magnus said, ‘No one could save the people who died from the sweats, but I might be able to save Jeb. I’ve got a feeling that if I don’t try, his death will haunt me.’

  Raisha’s voice was almost playful. ‘What’s one more ghost?’

  ‘One too many.’

  Raisha had the cycling helmet in her hand. She swung it gently by its chinstrap, as if trying to make up her mind about something. ‘I didn’t tell you this before, because I didn’t want to encourage you, but I saw Belle leave the barn not long before Henry discovered Melody’s body.’

  Magnus took a step towards her. ‘What are you trying to say?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Raisha caught the helmet with her free hand and then set it swinging again. ‘I was sitting on the doorstep of one of the outhouses when I saw Belle head for the barn. Melody had gone past earlier, crying. I wasn’t in the mood for talking to anyone and so I sat as still as I could and hoped they wouldn’t notice me. I shouldn’t have worried.’ She gave the helmet another shove. ‘They were both too caught up in themselves to see me. I was about to find somewhere quieter to sit when Belle ran out of the barn into the courtyard. I saw her face as she passed. She looked stricken, as if her whole body were screaming, but she didn’t make a sound.’

  ‘You didn’t go after her, or go into the barn to see what had upset her?’

  There was a bench in the centre of the lawn. Raisha crossed the grass and sat on it. Magnus followed her. The seat was small and their thighs touched. Raisha looked straight ahead, as if there had been no embrace, no lovemaking between them. ‘I couldn’t be expected to care that Belle was upset. We were all upset. It was only later that I wondered …’

  Magnus finished the sentence for her. ‘If Melody was already dead?’ Raisha nodded and he asked, ‘What did the others say?’

  Raisha had set the crown of the helmet on her knee and was fiddling with its straps. She spoke without looking at him. ‘I didn’t say anything about it to them. I wanted to give Belle a chance to explain.’

  Someone had planted meadow flowers at the steep end of the garden, where the lawn dipped down towards a secluded lane. Cornflowers, poppies, wild orchids and yellow daisies lifted open faces to busy squadrons of attentive bees. Raisha watched them as she spoke. ‘Belle told me that she’d been reading by the library window and noticed Melody go into the barn. Belle wanted to speak to her, but something about the way Melody was walking made her think she was crying and so, uncharacteristically for Belle, she decided to give her some privacy. She stayed by the window and waited for Melody to come out.’

  The garden
was still except for the harried drone of the bees.

  Magnus said, ‘But she didn’t.’

  ‘She didn’t. Eventually Belle’s patience was exhausted and she went to find her.’ Raisha let the straps of the cycling helmet go and looked at Magnus. ‘She said Melody had already hanged herself.’ Raisha’s eyes were wide. ‘All the things we saw in the cities, some of the things we did to stay alive, it’s a wonder we aren’t all insane. Did I tell you I sometimes see my children?’

  It was a warm morning, but the hairs on Magnus’s arms rose on end. ‘No, you didn’t.’

  ‘They’re always together. I catch sight of them standing by the side of the road, or on the edge of a room, watching me. It doesn’t work if I look for them. They like to surprise me.’

  Magnus glanced back towards the house, as if he expected to see two small boys watching them from the doorway. ‘Do you think they’re real?’

  ‘You mean do I think they’re ghosts or figments of my imagination?’

  ‘I don’t know what I mean.’

  ‘I like to think they’re real and that one day I’ll be able to hold them both again.’ A tremor passed through Raisha. ‘Belle has her own horrors. She said that there was something about the way that Melody’s body was turning on the rope that was too horrible to bear. It was as if she were calling all the dead into the barn. Belle ran out of there, back to the big house and hid in her bedroom. When Henry went looking for some tool or other and found Melody, Belle heard the commotion and came to her senses. By the time she reached the barn Jacob had cut Melody down. When Belle saw how hard he was working to revive her, it occurred to her that Melody might still have been alive when she found her. That was when she went into hysterics. She kept repeating, She was alive, she was alive.’

  Magnus said, ‘And no one else went into the barn before Henry, except for Melody and Belle?’

  ‘They couldn’t have without my noticing.’

  A high-pitched whine sounded in the distance. It took Magnus a second to grasp what it was and then he recognised the faint roar of motorbikes coming from somewhere towards the south. There were more than two of them, but beyond that he could not be sure. Magnus realised that he was holding his breath. He whispered, ‘Did you hear that?’

  Raisha nodded. ‘I’ve heard them before, always at a distance, but from different directions, as if they’re circling the district.’ She had lowered her voice as well, as if the distant motorcyclists might be in danger of overhearing her. ‘I think there are more of them this time.’

  ‘More survivors.’

  Raisha got to her feet. The view of open countryside was blocked by the high hedgerows that edged the lane, but she stood on her tiptoes, as if there might be a chance of catching sight of the motorcyclists. ‘More survivors.’

  Magnus said, ‘Are they the real reason you’re going? They might be a better prospect.’

  Raisha turned her back on him and crossed the lawn to her bike. ‘Being too eager to join up with people hasn’t worked out well. I’ll take more care next time, if there is a next time.’

  The sound of the motorbikes had dislodged Melody’s death from Magnus’s mind, but the realisation that Raisha was about to leave focused him. He followed her across the grass.

  ‘Belle could have knocked the chair away from the body in her panic to get out of the barn.’

  Raisha had fixed a tent and two saddlebags to the back of the bike. She tugged at their fastenings, checking they were secure.

  ‘If she did, then Jacob was mistaken and Melody’s death was exactly as it seemed: a straightforward suicide.’

  Magnus said, ‘But it still wouldn’t explain what happened to Henry or Jacob.’

  Raisha bundled up her hair, put the cycling helmet on her head and buckled its strap beneath her chin. The helmet was sleek and modern. It tapered in a point down the nape of her neck, like the skull of an extra-terrestrial in a sci-fi movie. Her brown eyes met his and this time there was no flirt in them.

  ‘As far as I’m concerned Henry committed suicide and your friend Jeb killed Jacob. If you really want to find your family you should stop wasting time and be on your way.’

  Magnus said, ‘You know there was more to it. I can see it in your eyes.’

  Raisha held his gaze. ‘You can see nothing in my eyes. There is nothing left in them to see.’

  Magnus stood at the gate and watched Raisha cycle away from him. She wobbled a little as she rounded the bend. He held his breath, half expecting her to take a tumble, but she turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. As soon as she had gone a sense of his aloneness hit him, as hard and as sudden as Johnny Dongo’s fist. Magnus sank into a squat and took a series of deep breaths. He should not have let her go, but even though Raisha had told him there was another bike in the garage of the house he waited, breathing in and out, while the distance between them grew longer.

  Thirty-Six

  Six motorbikes were propped on the gravel outside Tanqueray House, waiting for their riders like horses tied outside a saloon in a cowboy movie. Magnus stood on the edge of the overgrown drive under the shelter of the trees, willing his brain to work. He had cycled back on the companion to the bicycle Raisha had commandeered. The sleepless night had exhausted Magnus, his damp jeans had chafed his skin and the lanes’ twists and turns had been testing. Newcomers were not necessarily bad news, but Magnus felt uneasy and ill-equipped for strangers.

  He could ride off, find a clean bed, sleep the day away and then head north under the cover of night. Magnus thought of Jeb locked in the dark foundations of the building. If their positions were reversed, would Jeb take risks to save him? Magnus doubted it, but the only way to vanquish the sweats was to return to a point where life was sacred. Freeing Jeb and discovering Jacob’s murderer was part of that.

  It was cold and dank-smelling beneath the trees. He hid his bike in the undergrowth and made his way past the barn where Melody had hanged herself, to the back of the house. Magnus pressed his spine against the kitchen wall, remembering the escape from Pentonville and the way Jeb had kept his silhouette narrow. The wall’s rough stone snagged against the back of his T-shirt as he edged towards the window.

  The men in the kitchen looked as tired as he felt. There were five of them, hunched round the table, spooning soup into their mouths. Father Wingate was with them. The priest’s face was animated. He was talking, moving his hands in the air to illustrate a point, but Magnus could not hear what he was saying. He moved closer to the window, trying to see if Belle or Will were in the room. Father Wingate’s eyes met his through the glass. The old priest looked away and Magnus drew back, knowing that if everything had been okay Father Wingate would have beckoned him inside.

  From where he was standing, his body flattened against the wall, Magnus had a clear view to where Jacob had been shot. Jacob or Jeb would have been better equipped to deal with the invaders, if that was what the men were, but the soldier-priest was dead and Jeb locked in the dungeon. Magnus edged his way to the side of the house and the door Father Wingate had half-jokingly referred to as the tradesmen’s entrance.

  Voices rumbled deep and masculine from somewhere in the front rooms of the house, but the passageway was empty. Magnus jogged along it until he reached the door to the basement. He had eased it open when he heard a clatter of claws against the tiled floor and saw the puppies rushing to greet him, their tails wagging wildly. One of them gave a welcoming bark and a hand grabbed Magnus’s arm. Fuck! The word escaped him; a whisper of breath and spit.

  Belle put a finger to her lips. She nodded at the door and followed him into the damp darkness beyond, careful to leave the puppies in the hallway. They whined and Magnus feared the dogs would give them away, but then he heard them clattering off on some new adventure. Belle clicked on a torch and led the way to a twisting stone staircase. Magnus waited until they were another level down before he spoke.

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Belle’s face shone
pale in the gloom. ‘But I’m staying clear of them.’

  ‘Do you know what they want?’

  ‘They say they’re just after a bit of food and shelter, then they’ll go on their way.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘You remember the gang I saw in London?’

  ‘The women chained together? These are the same men?’

  ‘No, but they remind me of them. I hid when I heard their bikes, but I’ve been watching them. They’re like a pack of dogs, growling at each other, competing for position, out for what they can get.’

  ‘They don’t know you’re here?’

  ‘As long as Will doesn’t tell them, I think I’m okay, so far. This house is full of hidden stairways and passages.’

  Magnus remembered the concealed staircase Jacob had led him up, on the night he had died. It seemed a long time ago. He said, ‘Will’s not completely stupid. He won’t tell them there are women here.’

  A woman, he reminded himself. Raisha was gone.

  Belle said, ‘That’s the bad part. I think he wants to impress them. The pack has a leader, I don’t know his name. He’s the shortest of the bunch, but the rest of them seem to defer to him. He’s Will’s latest bromance.’

  ‘Will’s gay?’ The thought had never occurred to Magnus.

  Belle’s whisper was sharp with impatience. ‘I mean he admires him. You must have noticed, since Jacob died it’s like Will’s been trying to be him. He wouldn’t deliberately set out to harm me, but these guys are “real men”, the way Jacob was a “real man”.’ Belle lifted up the hem of her T-shirt and showed him the gun stuffed into the waistband of her jeans. It was the same one she had given to Jeb, the same one that had supposedly killed Jacob. ‘It’s loaded.’