She’d been aware of something black and furry squatting in the periphery of her vision ever since the nurse had closed the door on her visitor, but she had told herself to ignore it. To concentrate on the man in front of her, and she wasn’t going to weaken now.
All the same, it was hard to ignore the smell. Not just the warm, comforting aromas of a pet dog come in to a warm room from a drenching downpour of cold winter rain. This had the aroma of death and putrefying flesh.
“Andrew suspected that I was withholding information from him about the job. That isn’t strictly true…I received very little information myself.”
Jennifer sighed. Pearce held his hands up, his eyes beseeching. She remembered all too well what Andy had said about the gangster’s mannerisms, how well it masked the violent and murderous qualities of the man. And yet…
“Pass me some water.” She pointed to the plastic carafe on her bedside cabinet and pushed herself up to a sitting position.
“Of course.” He hastened to obey, his hands shaking as he filled the plastic tumbler. She took it with her good hand, sipped it and eyed him thoughtfully.
“I wasn’t acting on behalf of a client. I was acting on…well, this isn’t easy for me to say. I could never have told Andrew this, but I was acting on the instructions received from dreams.”
She almost choked on the water.
“Dreams like young Jason Franklin had,” he added, almost apologetically. “Yes, The Elder spoke to me as well.”
He drew up the small plastic chair next to her bed and sat down. The legs squeaked on the polished tiles.
“Very vague instructions, I have to admit. Not the sort of mission statement I’m accustomed to. But when The Elder speaks…” he shuddered and went pale. Jennifer Callaby suspected this was the first time anyone had seen Graham Pearce look unsettled. She didn’t feel honoured.
“…well, suffice to say that you feel compelled to listen.”
Jennifer took another sip of water. It was harder to swallow now.
“Compelled to listen?” she sneered. “Or obey?”
Pearce lowered his eyes again before answering.
“No, Jennifer, not obey. The Elder doesn’t command…he believes in choice. But choices are not easy to make unless you have the full knowledge of the events that need your assistance.”
She thought about this. She heard scratching sounds from the black and white mass sitting by the door. She kept her eyes fixed on Pearce.
“Why couldn’t this…Elder tell Andy himself? Why did he have to go through you?”
Pearce shrugged his shoulders helplessly. Droplets of cold rain landed on her bedspread, reminding her of the droplets of blood that splattered her face from the injuries Franklin inflicted on Andy in the cellar beneath the chapel of All Souls.
“I really don’t know, Jennifer. In truth, even The Elder doesn’t have the full facts. ‘There are rules that even I must follow’ he told me on more than one occasion. But I had to ensure Andrew came to Cambridge.”
“To All Souls,” she said flatly. “To…to do what he did.”
“There was no guarantee that he would, Jennifer. If you hadn’t been involved…who knows if he would have made the same choice? I don’t believe he would have done. He did this for you.”
And I only got “involved” here because I left him. Nowhere else to go to but mum’s. Can’t blame Pearce for that. Ain’t fate a funny thing?
She smiled wanly. The smile froze when she saw Pearce reach into his top pocket.
“It would be rather bad taste to wish you a Merry Christmas. But I’d like to give you a gift.” He held out the package. It was wrapped in green tissue paper and Sellotape.
“Not so much as a gift as a memento…” he said. “It seems the guardianship has been passed to Andy.”
The object was cold and heavy. It felt like stone.
Her fingers played across the tissue wrapping. The corners had worked their way through the flimsy paper.
She heard a low whine from the creature in the corner. Pearce turned to face him. He smiled.
“If you’ll excuse me, Jennifer. I have a new friend to look after. I don’t think our friends in power will let Rob Benson see the light of day for a very long time…so it would seem that I’m Jasper’s appointed caretaker for the immediate future.” He stood up and gently patted her knee under the coverlet. She was too preoccupied with the package in her hands to flinch, or to notice the door open.
“I can’t allow the authorities to take both of them.”
With trembling fingers and a dry mouth, she tore the rest of the wrapping paper away. The stone carving stared up at her.
It was a stone carving. A Green Man. The face in the leaves, the spirit of the earth: imprisoned forever in stone. Vegetation writhed in its gaping mouth, spreading around the face to form a green halo. Yet the face didn’t appear to be in pain. If anything, those lips were spread in a smile. The nose was thin and angular, and all too familiar.
The eyes were wide open. Green eyes, a shade of green flecked with gold that she had seen before. In the eyes of her boyfriend; eyes she thought she would never see again.
The same eyes that smiled up at her.
“I found it in Impington Common of all places,” Pearce said from the doorway. “This very morning. Not sure how it got there, the blast radius wasn’t that large, but still…”
She turned to look at him through tear-blurred tears. He smiled. Then he patted Jasper’s head and beckoned him to follow. She saw that no leash was attached.
“Guard it well, Jennifer. I have a feeling that we’ve not heard the last of Andraste.”
He said something else and then she was alone. The door closed and she stared at the carving again. Tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto the eyes of the Green Man. They sparkled, gleamed a beautiful, iridescent green. They smiled.
And as the sound of Pearce’s footsteps - and the clicking of Jasper’s claws - faded, she realised she wasn’t alone. Pearce’s last words stayed in her mind.
Take care of each other.
The Caretakers (2011) Page 46
