by Robin Crumby
Copper’s henchmen returned at first light. She had named them Little and Large. She regretted her earlier choice of words. It was not advisable to bite the hand that fed you.
The two men delivered Terra to Copper’s care in the central atrium. From the waiting room next door, she heard Briggs’s voice and strained to see around the doorway. He emerged a few minutes later, staring straight ahead as if in a trance. Was he still angry with her or was there something else troubling him?
Sat on the sofas in reception were two people she didn’t recognise. One was a stout fellow with a heavy beard and close-set eyes, in his early thirties. There was a self-satisfied air about him that Terra took an instant dislike to. The other was older, with a soft round face, used to taking orders.
“King’s dead,” said Briggs flatly. “They couldn’t save him. Copper, I want you to take over responsibility for the hospital. He would have wanted that.”
“Yes, boss.”
Copper seemed downcast, but the others shrugged at the news. Perhaps they had already expected the worst.
“Then long live the new king,” said the bearded man with an Irish accent, trying to be clever, but trying too hard. Briggs’s eyes narrowed, unamused.
“Seamus and Henry, your Highcliffe unit will come under Copper’s command.” Briggs nodded towards the new arrivals. “Victor, you want to explain what we just discussed with the others?”
“Sure,” he said with undeniable relish, clearly enjoying being back in Briggs’s favour. “Between the virus and the disturbances we’ve set in motion, the allies’ focus will be on the island. That leaves Lymington wide open.”
“Our scouts say there’s a token force there,” said Briggs. “With more units being redeployed to Fawley Refinery, Southampton docks, and Portsmouth Harbour, their line is stretched very thin. Now’s our chance.”
“We’ll teach those boys a lesson,” boasted Seamus.
“The cars are waiting. Good luck,” said Briggs, shaking hands with each of them.
“What about that little job we discussed for Terra?” asked Victor.
Briggs glanced at her, his expression loaded with begrudging remorse.
“Copper owes you an apology.”
Briggs’ demand was met with a dismissive shrug from Copper as if it was the last thing on his mind.
“He’d got it into his thick skull that you were behind the attack on King. That you were conspiring against us, but I set him straight. I mean, why would you want me and the others dead?” He smiled with heavy irony. “I told him, you’re headstrong, yes, and you don’t know when to put a lid on it, but you’re not a murderer.”
There was a knock on the door, and a young boy was led in. He made a beeline for Briggs.
“There you are. Come over here, son.”
Terra studied the boy, curious to know more. He looked about ten or eleven with brown hair and freckled good looks. There was a sadness about him like the last few years had hollowed him out and left nothing but emptiness.
“You know who this lady is?” Briggs asked the boy.
The boy shook his head, holding on to the armrest of Briggs’s chair.
“She’s going to be looking after you from now on. Name’s Terra.”
The boy blinked up at her, his expression blank.
“What’s your name, darling?” she said, going down on one knee.
“Connor.”
“Connery is one of my favourite names. It was my dad’s name.”
“Just Connor,” he corrected.
“Victor tells me you used to have a kid, Terra. I thought you might like someone to look after. Go on, Connor, tell the lady who your father is.”
“I don’t have a father.”
“Now, now, don’t be like that. That’s no way to speak about family.”
“His name was Zed, Zed Samuels.”
Terra could barely contain her astonishment. “My God. Where on earth did you find him?” she said, cupping the boy’s chin. “Where have you been all this time, darling?”
“Living in a caravan park in Hayling Island.”
“All on your own?”
“I was with a group. I got separated when we moved to the island with the other refugees.”
“Separated from whom? Your mum?”
“No, my big sister.”
“Is she here too?” she asked, barely believing her ears, glancing at Briggs.
Connor just shrugged like he didn’t care.
“He doesn’t know. One of my men found him at a school near Newport where they put all the kids with no family. Apparently, he refused to give them his last name,” whispered Briggs. “When he did, one of Victor’s informants recognised the name right away, put two and two together, brought him here.”
“Where have you been all this time?” she asked again.
“They locked me up with all these sick people, said I was infected too. I was there for weeks. Left us there to die. You have no idea what they did to us…” he said, tears welling in his eyes.
Terra tried to put her arms around him, but he pushed her away.
“Of course not. I can’t imagine. So, what happened to your sister?”
“She never came to collect me,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You poor thing.”
Briggs motioned behind Connor’s back that he might have some unresolved mental issues. “You were a bit messed when we found you, weren’t you, lad? Had a rough time of it. Saw things no kid your age should see. But,” acknowledged Briggs, “it’s made a man of you. You survived. That’s what counts.”
“I don’t want to be treated like a child any more.”
“Of course you don’t. You’ve got a new family now. We’re your family, isn’t that right?” said Briggs, encouraging Terra to take him under her wing.
“Come on, Connor. I’ll take you to your new home. Can someone give me a lift to Walhampton?” She smiled confidently, wondering whether she was now free to leave the hospital. Briggs’s eyes narrowed for a moment, considering her request, then nodded his consent.
Terra guided Connor towards the door. Briggs got to his feet and followed them out. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled in anticipation. He caught up with the pair of them, falling into step.
“Listen, Terra, I know things were said, things we both regret. There was stuff going on, stuff I couldn’t talk about.”
“I know,” she said with a smile. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It took me a while to realise something.”
Terra stopped mid-stride, unsure where he was going with this. He seized on her puzzled expression.
“You still can’t see it, can you? You and I, we’ve always wanted the same thing. I kept telling you, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“I was worried King was manipulating you. I realise now I was wrong. It was the other way round all the time,” said Terra, knowing she was reaching for something she only half-suspected was true.
“King was just a jumped-up northerner, blinded by greed. All he cared about was power. Still, he served his purpose, got us this far. I’ll give him that but, like anyone else, he failed to see he was dispensable.”
His words hung in the air like a veiled threat.
“Then tell me what I’m missing.”
“It’s been staring you in the face all this time, but you can’t see it. Did you never wonder why I chose you?”
She shook her head, stroking Connor’s hair absent-mindedly. From a distance, she imagined they might look like a family.
“When I first heard about you, I knew straight away.”
“Knew what?”
“Most people around here saw the breakdown as an opportunity. People like King or Seamus were driven by rage, to get one over, to take something that didn’t belong to them. They were so blinded they forgot who they really were, what they stood for, but you didn’t, did you?”
“I suppose we all did what we thought was right.”
“
Exactly. You see, you and I still yearn for a time when honour and respect actually meant something. We share the same values.”
Something clicked for Terra. She had always been puzzled why she was attracted to men like Jack and Briggs. Perhaps they had something in common after all.
“Sometimes, it takes something terrible to make something good happen,” he continued. “This country used to be the best place in the world. I’m not talking about the Swinging Sixties or Cool Britannia. I’m talking about years before, after the war, when people made do with nothing. The stories I grew up with of families pulling together, of community. When all that other stuff is stripped away, people are forced to understand what really matters.”
“Then tell me what you really want.”
“A fresh start for you and me and the others. I want my island back. I couldn’t care less about power. That’s what drove King. Not me. I’ll give it back to the people it belongs to. Not these cuckoos.”
“But how? You’re not the only one who wants that place.”
“There’s going to be a purge. Things are going to be different now King’s not around. It’ll be just like old times, but better.”
There was a renewed confidence about Briggs. Terra got the impression that, far from being a setback, this was what he had wanted all along.
“People keep underestimating you, don’t they?” she said, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke his face.
“They always have.”
“Just give me another chance,” she pleaded. “I can change too. I can be what you want me to be, you’ll see.”
“You still don’t get it, do you? I want you to stop pretending and be who you really are.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she lied.
“I’ve been surrounded by liars and cheats all my life. Don’t you think I see through all that?”
He pulled her in close, gripping her arm so tightly it began to pinch. He pretended to kiss her cheek but whispered in her ear, “I told you, you’d learn to appreciate me,” taking her earlobe between his teeth. “Now take the boy back to the school before I change my mind.”
“What do you want me to do with him?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I figured he might come in handy when the time comes.”
He released his grip and smacked her on the bottom. Connor watched them with dead eyes.
Outside, there was a car parked by the entrance with its engine running but no one inside. She looked around but there was no sign of the driver.
Behind her, she heard Victor’s voice, laughing with someone, patting him on the back like an old friend.
“Wait in the car, Connor. I’ll be with you be two minutes,” said Terra, craving closure with Victor before she went. Terra and Victor waited until the others were inside the vehicle so they would not be overheard.
“I’ve taken care of everything,” claimed Victor. “I’ll get Sam and Tommy out tonight.”
“I don’t know what to say. How?”
“The guard will leave their window unlocked. They can get out the same way they got in.”
“Thank you.” She sighed with relief. “Can I speak to them before I leave?”
“They’re waiting for you. They know nothing. If you go now, there should be no one around. The guard will be expecting you. You owe me. Now go, quickly.”
Terra wasted no time, staying in the shadows, making sure no one could see her from the balcony above. The guard stood up as she approached, and unlocked the door.
Sam and Tommy seemed much better than the last time she had visited. She hugged them both and stepped back.
“There’s no time to explain. I’m getting you out.”
Sam blinked back at her, barely able to take it in, waiting for her to continue. She explained Victor’s plan, making sure they understood what needed to happen.
“Turn yourselves into the first allied patrol you find. It’s vital you deliver a message to Captain Armstrong. Can you do that?”
“Of course.”
“Tell him this new strain of the virus came from Lymington Hospital. It was King’s doing. The professor says it has a longer incubation period and a higher mortality rate. Got that?”
“Longer incubation, higher mortality. Why is the professor helping them?”
“He doesn’t have a choice. They made him do it. There’s one other thing. When you see Zed, tell him Briggs has his son. Can you do that?”
“Sure. Come with us, Terra. Tell him yourself.”
“Not until I’ve finished what I started.”
“Why? You don’t need to stay.”
“It would take too long to explain. There’s a car waiting. Look, I’m doing this for you, Sam. For Hurst.” She kissed him, tears in her eyes. “I’ll never forget you, Sam.”
“Just make sure you come back.”
“When this is all over. Wish me luck, I’m going to need it.”
With that, she turned and left, striding past the guard and down the corridor with renewed purpose. As she took the steps two at a time, she heard the heavy metal door behind her slam shut. She took a deep breath, eyes closed, steeling herself for the final part of her plan.
Chapter Forty-six
It was still dark when the dinghy carrying Riley, Heather and Adele rounded the Needles rocks and beat back into the wind and waves, spray lashing the open boat.
The high cliffs of the Needles Headland and Tennyson Down sheltered them from the worst of the strengthening north-easterly wind. Every now and again the wind would flip around in the opposite direction as it raced between gullies above their heads. Heather remained alert to the danger. The waves too were confused as wind and tide collided. Sweeping in from the channel, they could hear rollers surging up the beach in front of the old Lifeboat station to crash among the pebbles and rocks.
Riley was anxiously looking ahead, trying to figure out the safest way of getting ashore. They could take their chances and risk wrecking the boat on the beach or tie off against one of the buoys at the western end of the bay nearest the waterfront hotel. It would mean one or more of them would have to swim the remaining twenty metres to shore.
Riley volunteered to drop the girls in the surf and paddle back out to the buoy. She figured they might need the dinghy again. Between them, they stowed the sails as best they could. For now, they hoped the dinghy would survive till dawn on the mooring. With any luck, they could persuade Sam to swim out later and sail her back around to Yarmouth Harbour.
Riley went as close as she dared, struggling to control their approach in the surf. A larger wave caught them unawares and almost tipped the boat. It grounded for a second on the shelving beach as she grabbed the paddle and pushed off before the next roller swept towards them.
The girls jumped one after the other into the freezing cold water, gasping and shouting as their heads popped up again. As they found their footing, they pushed the bow round, back the way they had come. Riley threw the rucksacks one by one, hoping they could reach them in the surf.
She fought hard to keep the bow head onto the breaking waves, paddling as hard as she could. The cockpit was already ankle-deep in water, making her feet slip and slide, struggling for purchase.
She could see the buoy directly ahead of her now. She was soaking wet, spray in her eyes, salt water in her mouth, gritting her teeth at the supreme effort to escape the last few yards beyond the breakwater.
The buoy reared up beside her, and she lunged for it, nearly losing the paddle over the side. Gripping the buoy tightly with one hand, she reached for the painter, looping the line through the eye and tied it off on the cleat at the bow. Once all the other gear was safely stowed, she checked her life jacket was securely tightened and stepped over the side.
The cold water took her breath away. She surfaced and wiped water from eyes, struggling to get her bearings as a wave broke over her head. She sighted Adele and Heather waving on the shingle and set off towards them. Her clothing and shoes acted like a sea
anchor making it difficult to swim, but she persisted. She could sense a strong current sweeping her along the beach towards the prominent rocks at the far side of the bay.
Before she knew it, Riley could feel the steeply-shelving shingle shifting under her feet. Standing up she stumbled the rest of the way, exhausted by the effort. Heather and Adele came rushing down to meet her, helping her upright and supporting her to the concrete hard.
She recognised an army truck from the Needles Battery already there to meet them. Two dark shapes walked towards them, carrying armfuls of blankets.
“Courtesy of Corporal Carter,” said the taller of the two, handing them one each. They kept their distance as if they didn’t dare come any closer. “You need to come with us. Our orders are to take you back to the Battery.”
“But we only live up there,” said Riley, shaking uncontrollably with cold, pointing to the Freshwater Bay Hotel. “I told the corporal earlier, we’ve only come from St Mary’s. We’re not infected.”
“You’re still subject to quarantine.”
Behind the soldiers, she noticed a small crowd of people making their way towards the beach, carrying torches and lanterns to light their way. She held up her hand to shield the light in her eyes, struggling to make out their faces.
“Now what’s all this about? Making such a racket in the middle of the night,” said a voice she recognised instantly as Liz. “Riley? Is that you? You lot look like drowned rats. Who are you two?” she said, shining the torch in the soldiers’ faces.
“They’re Carter’s men. They’re trying to take us back to the Battery.”
“Is that so? Can’t you see they’re freezing to death? I suggest you get Carter on the radio.”
“We’ve got our orders. We’re not leaving without them.”
“Then you best come inside too. There’s a hot brew back at the hotel.
“Listen, you’ve got your orders, I’ve got mine,” Riley bluffed, holding up the radio as if it were proof. “Unless you want me to wake up Captain Armstrong?”
Being this close to home, she was in no mood to argue. The two soldiers glanced at each other, wrong-footed by Riley’s lie.
