This Broken Land

by H M Sealey

“No, but I’ve visited plenty. Nobody starves. Nobody’s cold or dropping with exhaustion. It’s rehabilitation. We’re trying to discourage the sort of fascist thinking that led to Nazi Germany.”

  “Uh huh.” River says. “And when I was at school, if I didn’t agree that paedophilia was a healthy, natural sexual orientation I’d have been taken to Pastoral to have my prejudices challenged. It got to the point where any of us with different political viewpoints learned to keep our mouths shut out of fear. So tell me who the real fascists are Mr. Clark?”

  “Ridiculous.”

  “It’s not ridiculous. Christians, Conservatives, Royalists, people opposed to paedophilia or incest, people who questioned the advantages of vaccines for God’s sake, they weren’t beaten up on the streets, but they were vilified, lost their jobs and their kids and yeah, ended up in Rainbow centres where their thoughts were attacked every day until they rolled over and learned to think the right thoughts. Don’t you dare pretend NuTru is anything but a fascist government!”

  Diana looks shocked. “River, please. I know we’re not perfect, but we really are trying. All I’ve ever wanted it a truly equal country. All I wanted was to see those marginalised groups find a home and a place in society. I’m sorry if Rainbow Centres are a little harsh. Would you like me to commission an investigation into them?”

  River pulls away from her mother and takes a piece of cake from a plate.

  “Really?”

  “Really darling. I don’t want the people in the Rainbow Centres to be unhappy any more than I wanted the Paedophiles hiding in their closets to be unhappy.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “All my life that’s all I’ve wanted, to make people happy.”

  It strikes me wanting people to be happy is probably not the best goal for a politician. I’m not sure happiness is something that can be bestowed on people from on high, I think it has to come from elsewhere. It’s not like a cake and everyone can demand a slice.

  “Pity the rates of suicide are soaring then.” River mutters. “looks like you’re failing, people are more unhappy than ever.”

  “Then I have to try harder.”

  “Definition of madness, to keep doing the same thing and expect different results. Whether you like it or not, people were happier when this country had jobs, a working economy and a proper grasp on right and wrong.”

  Diana looks as if she’s been slapped. I don’t understand River’s hostility, her mother is offering to re-evaluate the Rainbow Centres, I can’t think of something that needs to happen more.

  Diana pours coffee, real coffee with real water and proper coffee beans. She smiles at us both.

  “Will you stay now River? You’re both welcome.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe for a bit.”

  Diana smiles. “My daughter, the rebel. You always had to defend the underdog. Do you remember poor little Ezra Fernihough?”

  River nods. “I remember him.

  Diana beams at me, she has a dazzling smile, her teeth are very white and her lips full and pink.

  “Ezra was bullied for months, and River was his only friend, even though it meant being bullied too.” She turns back to River. “I was so proud of you. I always taught you to stand up to bullies. Don’t you understand that? Someone has to stand up for people on the edges of society? The people who don’t fit in. The mentally ill. The disabled. Those who fall in love with the wrong person.”

  Diana’s eyes plead with River to understand. River picks up her coffee and scrutinises her mother over the blue cup.

  “Do you know why Ezra was bullied?”

  “No, you never said. But it was enough that he was bullied.”

  “He was bullied because his father supported Britain Together. Remember them? The party that wanted true equality and an end to divisive identity politics? While you were discussing how to hobble the privileged white man and setting down mandatory ratios for minorities in all areas, Britain Together was pushing for a meritocracy, where nobody was judged on their skin colour or sexuality, but on their ideas.”

  River stares at her mother without any sort of facial expression whatsoever, she’s like a rock. “You destroyed Britain Together! You called them racist and sexist and prosecuted the leader under the Hate Crime laws for daring to envision a world where gender and race didn’t matter. You didn’t just oppose them, you lied and you slandered them. Ezra Fernihough and kids like him were hounded and hated in schools because of you! You say you stand up to bullies but you’re the worst bully of all!”

  Diana’s eyes drop to the floor. “I – I never said we were perfect.”

  Kai Clark doesn’t seem moved by River’s passion. “People should hound and hate Nazis.” He says. River turns on him like a furious dog.

  “He wasn’t a Nazi! Britain Together weren’t Nazis! They just didn’t agree with your political opinion! Only you can’t see that because you’re religious in your fervour! You’re so certain of your righteousness that you’ll burn and torture heretics.”

  “River!” Diana catches her hand and pulls her back onto the sofa. “Please darling, can’t we be friends, just for a little while? You must be exhausted. I know you have your own opinions and I do respect that, I really do.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “River, darling, please don’t let’s argue.” Diana rests a smooth, red-nailed hand against River’s cheek. She’s much paler than River, and her vein-lined hands give away her real age. “I always hated arguing with you. I’m your mother and I love you more than anything.”

  River calms a little and doesn’t pull away. Diana calls the maid back and issues instructions.

  “Sophie, have a room made up for my daughter and her boyfriend.”

  “Two rooms.” River snaps. “I’m not sleeping with Josh. He’s my friend.”

  Diana looks surprised at that. “I’m sorry darling, I just assumed….”

  “That I’m as slutty as you? I’m not.”

  Diana smiles at Sophie. “Two rooms Sophie please. And send out for some clothes.”

  Sophie nods and turns to leave, but River calls out.

  “Sophie?”

  Sophie turns with a serious little smile.

  “Yes miss?” She’s a pretty girl with feathery brown hair and big, baby-blue eyes.

  “Are you my mother’s employee, or her slave? Just for interest?”

  Sophie looks confused, her eyes dart to Diana who seems slightly wrong footed.

  “River darling, Sophie is an essential member of my household here.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Did you buy her mother? Like a piece of meat. Or did she apply for a job here?”

  Diana becomes indignant. “River, don’t be so disrespectful towards Sophie.”

  River jumps up from the sofa and approaches the girl. “Let me see your neck?”

  “M – miss?”

  “The back of your neck.”

  River’s quick, she spins Sophie around and pushes her hair back. For an instant I see what she sees, a series of numbers neatly printed just below the hairline. I have no idea what that means. River replaces Sophie’s hair but remains with her hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m so, so sorry Sophie.”

  “River!” Diana stands up so suddenly and with such anger that Sophie flees from the room, her shoes clattering on the polished floorboards outside. River glares at her mother.

  “You own slaves mum! How is that fighting for equality?”

  Diana doesn’t answer, she twists her hands together and turns the large, diamond ring around on her finger.

  “River – I...”

  “I’m waiting. I bet this is going to be one whopper of a lie.”

  “Your mother bought the girl to save her from one of the brothels.” Kai crosses his thin arms and regards River through cold eyes. “She doesn’t have any authority to stop the atrocities in the Border, but she spends her own money on taking girls out of the hands of people who would abuse them and offers them decent employment wit
h her. Is that a problem for you? Would you prefer Sophie to have been condemned to a life of sexual slavery?”

  Kai slides up to Diana and wraps his arm around her. “If she could save more girls then she would, I assure you. Talk to Sophie later and she’ll tell you her story. Your mother is working tirelessly, even here, to overcome oppression. I suggest you show her a little respect for once.”

  River doesn’t seem convinced, her eyes settle on her mother, then return to Kai. Finally, she lowers her eyes completely.

  “I’m sorry mum.”

  Diana’s face softens then melts into a smile. She throws her arms around her daughter.

  “Oh, I understand. When I first learned there was slavery here in the Border I was appalled. Man’s inhumanity to his fellow man never seems to change. It’s why I fight so hard in Old Britain to defend everyone’s rights, even if I get it wrong sometimes. This is what capitalism can lead to, survival of the strongest. I don’t want it for my country.”

  River nods but doesn’t say anything else. I wonder what she’s thinking? Meeting Diana Lamont gives me hope that our mess of a country can be set right again. I feel certain she’d listen to our grievances and understand where her policies have led to a different sort of oppression. Intellectual oppression.

  I really wish I knew what was going on in River’s mind though, her face gives nothing away. It’s as flat as the calmest sort of sea, who knows what lurks beneath the surface.

  ~

  ~ Seventeen ~

  Asim

  “Asim’s back!” Alaia hauled herself up into the attic, her face shining with joy. “He’s safe. He’s not even in any trouble.”

  Dai grinned. “That’s amazing news!”

  “My stupid, stupid little brother’s all right.” There were tears in those big, intelligent eyes. “Praise Allah for this. I was sure they’d lash him at the very least.”

  Dai crawled across the bed, there wasn’t quite enough room to stand up except in the very centre of the attic.

  “I’m glad Alaia.”

  “I was so scared for him.”

  “He was very brave.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t sound certain of that?”

  Alaia searched for the words to explain what she was feeling. Finally, she found them and looked directly at him, fire in her face.

  “He’s my baby brother and he protected me as if I were a child. Or some inanimate object to be kept safe. The books were mine, not his. The punishment should have been mine. I’m not something to be protected. I’m a person. I love Asim, and I love him for wanting to save me. But in saving me….” She considered her words carefully. “He treated me like all men treat me. As if I belong to him. As if I am his responsibility and not my own. As if I am too weak to defend myself.”

  Dai moved forward cautiously. He had spent more time than perhaps was sensible speaking with Alaia and they were running out of excuses to be alone.

  “I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

  Alaia wiped her eyes and smiled up into Dai’s face. “I expect you’ve had enough of me crying?”

  Dai faced her, reached out a gentle hand and touched the soft skin of her cheek. “I think you’re very, very brave. I cried a lot more when they took Missy away. It’s hard when you can’t help someone you love.”

  Alaia did not push him away. “I prefer to argue with you than to weep in your arms.”

  “I like arguing with you too. And I like you being in my arms. But not weeping.”

  “You realise I shouldn’t be here, with you? Not alone. I’m not even meant to lift my eyes and look at you.”

  “I realise that.”

  “I could get into terrible trouble.”

  “So don’t come.”

  Dai had never met a girl with so much hidden determination, not even Missy. Alaia lived in a world where her true strength and character was hidden beneath layers of fabric and traditions, like a pearl deep inside its shell. He had seen women fight for their rights with placards and loud voices, Alaia had to fight a far more deadly foe.

  “Alaia?”

  They both turned, their closeness too intimate to be innocent, to see Baraq clamber through the hatch.

  “Uncle Baraq. I was…..I was just helping Daichi to practice his Arabic.”

  Baraq gazed at his niece, his expression left her in no doubt that he had read the situation correctly. He gave a long, weary sigh.

  “Alaia. Daichi will leave as soon as we can find his sister.” He shook his head. “Don’t….don’t let yourself become too attached to something you can’t have.” He paused. “Either of you.”

  “I could go too.” Both Baraq and Dai were surprised at those four words spoken with such passion. She raised her head, her face a perfect oval within her hijab, the hijab hiding her life as Abdullah. “Well I could, if Daichi wanted me too.”

  Dai took her hand with boldness. “Alaia. It would be too dangerous.”

  “I agree.” Baraq nodded. “It is forbidden for a woman no marry a man not of the faith, unless he has converted. If Daichi were to be caught he would most likely be deported. If you were to be caught you would be considered an apostate.”

  Alaia gazed up into Dai’s handsome face.

  “What else is there for me? To become Tariq ibn-Jack’s wife?” She shuddered. “He’s as old as you uncle. I want to go to university, I want to leave the BSI.”

  She took Dai’s hand in both of hers. “Take me with you Daichi, even if you don’t want to marry me, just take me away.” Fresh tears filled her eyes. “Take me somewhere where I can walk the streets in freedom, where I can feel the wind in my hair, where I can read books.”

  “Your parents would never allow it Alaia.” Baraq told her, wishing it wasn’t so.

  “You could convince them Uncle, I know you could. Daichi is the first man I have ever met who listened to my words, who respected my opinion.”

  “There are other men who will do that.”

  “Not in the BSI. Not as long as they’re taught to view me as less than them. Even good men are warped by that.”

  Baraq rested both hands on his face and pushed them back over his head in a gesture of exasperation.

  “Daichi. What about you? You barely know each other. Alaia has a penchant for romance novels and I fear you have been written into her life as the dashing hero.”

  “I don’t need a dashing hero any more than I needed my brother to come to my aid yesterday.” Alaia said, stung by Baraq’s comment.

  Dai looked at the girl in concern. She was almost ten years younger than he was, and innocent in a way few girls raised in Old Britain were. Here with her family she was safe but terribly unhappy, longing for freedom she had never experienced. She was so full of ideas, curiosity and intelligence, it seemed deeply cruel to keep her trapped behind locked doors, but the alternative was fraught with danger. There seemed no comfortable answer.

  “I….I don’t think I ever met a girl I respected more.” Dai admitted. “Or one I feel I might grow to care about more. But Alaia, your Uncle is right. I would never forgive myself if you were put in danger.”

  Alaia shrugged her shoulders. “Then I shall simply run away.”

  “You wouldn’t get far.” Baraq assured her. “The Mutaween would find you and bring you back. If you were lucky you’d only receive a few lashes for your trouble. But it could be far worse.”

  “I don’t care.” Alaia’s voice was suddenly as fierce as her eyes. “I have to go to the auction with you tonight, with Tariq ibn-Jack. Isn’t that dangerous? Yet you will let me face danger for your cause.”

  Baraq found that accusation unpleasantly close to the truth. “I wish you didn’t have to go at all. But I will be there too.”

  Alaia transferred her gaze back to Dai. “If you find your sister you will leave won’t you?” She said. “And I will come back to these walls where I must watch the world slip by from beneath my hijab or behind
glass. Well I can’t bear that any more.” The fierce look became fiercer still. “Tonight I will run with or without you. I promise I will run and when I’m brought back I will run again and again until I either escape or die.”

  ~

  Elsie

  “Shower quickly girls, you all want to look your best tonight.”

  Nicky claps her hands and supervises us as we wash. It’s horrible, like a line of sheep heading off to be sheared. “Make sure you brush your hair well. There’s clothing on the hangers, find your size. Come on now.”

  I manage to stay close to Missy while we wash with flower-scented shampoo and for a while it feels like ordinary life again, except the water is more plentiful here and the back of my neck still throbs. I examine the injuries I acquired throwing myself from Sylvester Jourdete’s car and I’m grateful to see that they’re healing without infection. They’re just red marks now.

  I close my eyes, letting the steam soothe emotions that are as raw as the wound on my neck, and I imagine I’m safe in my own bathroom and Gran is next door.

  Loss twists inside me and for an instant I’m not thinking about Gran, but about the time before that, the time lost to me in the dark. My family, the touch of my mother’s hand in mine, my brother’s laugh. The things that were torn away from my life when I was too young to understand or fight.

  “Elsie?”

  I peel open my eyelids to find myself coiled up on the wet tiles, naked and trembling. Missy, wrapped in a grey towel, kneels at my side and drapes another towel around me.

  “Come on.”

  “I – I can’t bear this Missy, I just can’t. I want Gran, I want mum!”

  Missy curls her arms around my body and holds me tightly.

  “Stay strong Elsie, please.”

  I shake my head. “No, no, I can’t.” I clamber to my feet. “I’m going.”

  “You can’t go.”

  “I’m going to run. I’m going to run all the way home. If I run fast enough I can leave all this behind. All of it. I’m going to find mum and dad and Josh.” I start to pull away from her arms, I have no idea where I’m going, I just know I can’t be here any more.