Kai said nothing. His earlier wit and defiance had left him. He was aware of Noah crouching down beside him, could feel his breath on his ear and neck. Deep, even. Like a fighter psyching himself up, focusing on a target.
‘I’m extremely unhappy with you, Kai. Extremely unhappy. And that’s putting it mildly. You’ve fucked everything up, son. For everyone.’
Again, Kai said nothing. He didn’t feel this was the right time to mount a defence. Waiting to hear what Noah had to say was the best thing to do.
‘What you did . . .’ Noah sighed. ‘Tell me why I shouldn’t just put you back in there now, eh? Back in that pit. And fucking leave you there. Tell me why I shouldn’t.’
Kai didn’t know if the question was rhetorical or not.
‘Well?’
It wasn’t rhetorical. ‘I . . . I don’t know, Noah. I . . .’ He sighed. ‘I did nothing wrong. Nothing.’ Desperation crept into his voice. Pleading. It sounded ugly, desperate. But, the realisation hit him, he was desperate. He might not get out of this room alive. Or Noah might have been serious about his threat. Kai knew from experience he didn’t joke about such things.
‘You did nothing wrong? Do we really have to go over this again? You talked, Kai. Talked.’
‘I didn’t . . .’
‘To that barman. Killgannon.’
‘Honestly, I didn’t . . .’
‘But that’s kind of beside the point now, isn’t it? Because you’ve done much worse than that, haven’t you? You know what I mean.’
‘It was an accident . . . I didn’t mean for him to . . .’ Kai trailed off. Even he didn’t believe his own words.
And Noah certainly didn’t. ‘I know exactly what you thought you were doing. Escaping. Getting as far away as possible. And the student would just slow you down. Or even worse, he would go to the police when he got away, incriminate you in his kidnaping. Wouldn’t he?’
Again, Kai said nothing.
‘In fact it was quite clever of you, Kai. Ruthless. Wouldn’t have thought you had it in you. This has been a day of surprises where you’re concerned.’
Kai could feel Noah’s breath, faster now, hotter, against his neck.
‘So how do we go forward? You’ve fucked everything up so badly that we’re back to square one. I’m tempted to just put you in the student’s place. You might say it was meant to be. Kyle, Kai. Almost the same.’ He paused. Kai knew he was smiling. ‘I know someone who would believe that. You know who I mean.’
Kai knew. And his terror and fear increased. ‘I’m sorry . . .’
‘Well, that makes it all right, then.’
‘I am sorry . . .’
Noah’s voice was right beside his ear now. ‘Not good enough. You tried to run, save your shitty little skin. Get rid of the student while you’re at it too. Didn’t think about us at all. The community. Did you?’
Those were the words that broke Kai. But he didn’t crumble the way he had expected to. He found strength in them. The strength of someone who knows his fate is terminal and therefore has nothing to lose.
‘No, I didn’t think about the community,’ he spat angrily, turning his head to face Noah, ignoring the pain that caused. ‘And why should I? The community couldn’t give a toss about me. The community didn’t trust me, the community put me in the pit. Or you did. Same thing, though, isn’t it? So why should I give a fuck about anyone except myself?’
He turned his head back towards the roof. Couldn’t bear the sight of Noah’s face for a second longer.
‘Go on then,’ Kai continued. ‘Do what you’re going to do. I’m in agony right now, so just do it. I’m not going to hurt more than I already do. So just save all the bullshit speeches and get it over with.’ He sighed, exhausted beyond words.
Silence fell. It could have stayed like that for all eternity, thought Kai.
Then something unexpected happened. Noah laughed again.
He stood up, moved round the room, laughing all the while. ‘Wow,’ he said eventually, between gasps. ‘A day of firsts, it really is. I thought there was nothing you could do or say that would surprise me. I admit it, I got you all wrong. You’ve grown a backbone, even if it doesn’t look like it when you’re lying there – you’ve got a mouth on you, you stand up for yourself and you’ve developed a sense of humour. Wonders will never cease.’
‘Whatever,’ said Kai, totally fed up now. ‘Just get on with it.’
‘Get on with what? I’m not going to do anything. Not yet, at any rate. No, get yourself well again. Then we’ll see what you can do for us.’ He leaned in close once more. ‘For the community.’
He was laughing while he said it. Kai didn’t know what to make of that.
Next, he felt Noah’s hands on his bindings, cutting the ropes.
‘Sit up if you like. Want something to eat?’
Kai nodded, still wary.
‘I’ll get it sorted.’
Kai rose slowly, body screaming with every millimetre, turned and looked at Noah.
‘A few minutes ago I’d done something unforgivable, so bad that I was going to have to die for it. And now I’m your best mate. Think I’m going to trust you?’
Noah shrugged. ‘Up to you. Yes, you did the worst thing imaginable. But you know I can’t replace the student with you. You know that really.’
‘Has to be an outsider.’
‘Has to be an outsider, exactly. But don’t think that you’re not useful to me. Because you are.’
‘How?’
Again, Noah smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. ‘I’ve got an outsider in mind. A last-minute replacement. And you’re just the one to get them.’
42
Tom stacked the glasses, wiped down the back bar. Filled the optics, stocked the bottles in the fridges. Prepped the kegs in the cellar. Even checked that the crisps and snacks were topped up. Anything to keep busy.
After leaving his therapist he had phoned Rachel. It was too early to go to work and he didn’t want to crowd Lila at home. He thought giving her space and time might help her to come to terms with what she had been through. And if she needed to talk then he would be there for her. So, sitting in a chain coffee shop in Truro, nursing his Americano and trying to be interested in a chocolate brownie, he picked up his phone, dialled a number that seemed to be becoming familiar to him.
She answered, her voice official. Not alone, he thought. She would have seen his number, knew it was him.
‘Can I help?’
‘You busy? Not a good time?’
‘Just a minute.’ A rustling sound from the other end, movement of some kind. Then a door closing. ‘That’s better. In the office. Just popped outside. So. What can I do for you?’
A note of flirtation had entered her voice with that last sentence. Tom wasn’t sure whether to respond to it or not.
‘Oh, just . . .’
‘Thinking of me?’
‘Yeah.’ That wasn’t convincing, he thought, not even to himself. He moved on before she either noticed or kept on flirting. ‘Listen. I just wanted to say . . . about my cards and things. If you put an alert out, or whatever, you can cancel it now. Everything’s OK.’
‘You found them? Where were they?’
He had intended to tell her but something – he couldn’t explain to himself what – stopped him. ‘I got them back. That’s the main thing.’
‘Did that girl bring them back? Sounds unlikely.’
‘No, someone told me where she was. So I went there and got them back from her. Simple as that.’
Silence.
‘You all right, Tom? You sound a bit off.’
‘No, I’m fine. So, yeah. She just gave me them back. That’s that.’ And because he didn’t feel like he was being believed he threw in a semi-truthful embellishment. The most believable kind. ‘She was trying to fence them but not having any luck. Good job I found her when I did.’
‘Where was she?’
Again, he didn�
��t want to answer. He knew it was Rachel he was talking to and she was on his side, but she was also police and if he told her anything incriminating she would have to report it. And he thought, for Lila’s sake, she should remain under the radar for now. Even if it meant lying to his lover. If that’s what she was.
‘She’s . . .’ He wanted to say safe, thinking of his conversation with his therapist, but again he didn’t think it was the right thing to say to Rachel. ‘I don’t know. But I’m not pressing charges. So just leave it as it is.’
He wondered if she’d noticed his attempt at deflection.
‘You don’t know where she is?’ The tone of her voice told him it hadn’t worked.
Tom had checked the local news that morning. TV, internet, papers. Nothing about Conroy or the gang or Danny. So either it hadn’t registered yet or it had all been covered up. Either way he didn’t see what good it would do Lila to be involved in it. Or himself for that matter. He’d almost had his identity compromised. He might not be so lucky next time.
‘No,’ he said. ‘She was running away when I met her the other night. She hadn’t got far but she wasn’t coming back here. That’s as much as I know.’
Muscle memory had helped in his confrontations with Kai and Conroy. A different kind of muscle memory was resurfacing now. The ability to lie convincingly. He had forgotten how good at it he used to be.
More silence on the line.
‘You’re sheltering her, aren’t you?’
Maybe he wasn’t that good a liar after all, he thought.
He sighed. ‘She’s somewhere safe. She’s been through a bit of an ordeal and she doesn’t seem a bad kid really. Like I said, I’m not pressing charges so everything’s fine. That’s all I phoned to tell you. Everything’s fine now.’
‘Is it?’
‘What d’you mean?’
‘I don’t know, Tom. It sounds like you’re hiding something from me. I don’t know what and I don’t know why. But that’s what it sounds like.’
‘I’m not, I—’
‘Please. You’d say that whatever. But if you’re keeping something from me . . . If it’s about you and me and it concerns us, then we need to talk about it. If it’s police business, then I really don’t know what to say.’
Tom wished he hadn’t phoned her now. ‘I’m going to go. We’ll talk soon.’
He cut the call before she could answer back, turned the ringer off, pocketed the phone.
His coffee was cold, his brownie unappetising. He stood up, left the café.
*
‘You having a bet with someone?’
‘Sorry?’
Tom looked round. He had been miles away, lost in his own world of memories and conjecture. Pearl was standing beside him, hands on hips, smile on face.
‘Just that you’re working so hard. It’s like you’re in a race or you’ve bet someone you can get everything done in, I don’t know, fifteen minutes by the looks of things.’
He found a smile. ‘Sorry. Was just keeping busy, that’s all.’
Pearl looked round the near-empty bar. ‘Hardly worth knocking yourself out for, is it?’
‘Suppose not.’
‘Something we used to say at uni: why should a student not look out of the window in the morning?’
‘Don’t know. Why not?’
‘Because they’ll have nothing to do in the afternoon.’ Another look round the bar. ‘Save something for the afternoon. Metaphorically speaking.’
He smiled, almost laughed. ‘Good joke. And point taken.’
‘You won’t get any more money for working harder.’
‘Fine. I’ll sit and read, then.’
‘Or we could talk. Chat, you know, like two people who are friends.’
Tom smiled. He liked the idea of being Pearl’s friend. ‘What shall we talk about? Brexit? Trump? The European Championships?’
Pearl paused, the smile dying on her face. He sensed there was something she actually wanted to talk about. He waited.
‘John had a word with me the other night.’
Tom aimed for flippancy. ‘Lucky you.’
‘He said he’d been talking to you recently. About things that’ve been going on round here. Bad things. That right?’
Tom didn’t know what to say, how much to give away. Like a game of Jenga, if he said something, took out one fact, Pearl would want to hear another. And eventually the whole edifice of carefully constructed secrets and lies surrounding Lila and his new identity would come tumbling down.
Pearl continued, without waiting for a reply. ‘About Tony Williamson?’
Tom frowned. Not what he had been expecting. ‘Who?’
‘Farmer. Came down from London. Ex-City boy with loads of plans for going organic, full of it. Like no one had ever heard of it before. Anyway, threw himself off a cliff. Not long before you arrived.’
‘Business that bad? I would reckon he’s not the only farmer thought of doing that round here.’
‘True. But John says he didn’t commit suicide. And it wasn’t an accident.’
‘Murder, you mean?’
‘So John says. His latest conspiracy theory. And he wanted to share it with me.’
‘So what was it for? Secrets of raising dairy herds?’
‘Something to do with the bid for the marina, apparently. And that missing student. Chuck in Shergar and you’ve got a full house.’ She turned to him. ‘Is this what he’s been talking to you about? Not Shergar, obviously.’
‘No, nothing like that.’
‘What was it, then?’
Tom didn’t want to tell Pearl about Lila. ‘Just another of his theories. Nothing like that.’
Pearl looked disappointed. ‘Oh. He said you would know all about it. That I should talk to you and we could both investigate. Like Mulder and Scully.’
Tom smiled. ‘Bit before your time.’
Pearl smiled in return. Punched him on the arm. ‘I’m not that young, granddad.’
Tom looked at her, holding his smile seconds longer than he should have. Pearl, he noticed, did the same. They broke looks. Silence fell.
‘So what d’you think? Should we turn detective? I mean, there’s nothing else to do round here.’
‘That’s not the first time you’ve said how dull this place is. Why’d you come back, then?’
‘Truthfully?’ Pearl thought. ‘I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t know where to go next or what to do. And my parents were struggling with this place. I wanted to help, I suppose.’ She smiled. ‘Or maybe I was waiting for a knight in shining armour to sweep me off my feet.’
‘Round here?’ said Tom. ‘He’d be driving a tractor.’
She just smiled.
The conversation was becoming uncomfortable for Tom. He steered it back to firmer ground. ‘Anyway, let’s talk to John about this. He’ll be in later no doubt.’
She agreed. Then went and found something else to do.
*
Early evening was the emptiest Tom had seen it since starting there. No one from the travellers’ site, no Emlyn and Isobel, just a couple of farmhands and they didn’t look like they would be staying for long.
‘If it wasn’t for the Round Table and their monthly meetings upstairs,’ Pearl had said on occasion, ‘we’d have gone under ages ago.’
The farmhands looked away, not wanting to return his gaze. He didn’t know what to make of that. He knew he was an outsider but he thought he was on the road to being accepted, even begrudgingly. Perhaps not.
He had noticed it more and more recently, people looking at him like he didn’t belong there. Or maybe they had always regarded him that way and he had been oblivious to it. Perhaps recent events had just sharpened his focus, made him more attuned to the way others were towards him. He tried to put it out of his mind. Hoped Lila was all right.
He picked up his cloth, looked at the countertops once more. Put it down again.
There was nothing he could do for the present.
>
Just wait for Pirate John.
But Pirate John didn’t turn up.
43
The bed was more comfortable than Lila had been in for a long time. Easily better than sleeping in a garage or a hedgerow or a caravan with dealers. Or even Kai’s tiny bed in his van, pushed up against his unwashed, sweaty body night after night. But this had been a great night’s sleep. At least until she woke up and remembered what she had been through. Those memories fell on her like a huge heavy blanket, too dark and dense to throw off immediately, leaving her no choice but to lie curled beneath, pressed down by the weight of them.
Danny. What he had done to her. What she had done to him. She felt no remorse over her actions. No guilt, no upset. Just a kind of numbness. Uncaring whether she had taken his life or not. His actions had made her feel like that. His fault, not hers.
She replayed those memories over and over again. It was like watching a movie in a smoke-filled cinema, the other viewers constantly coming and going, obscuring her vision, the film itself stopping and restarting from different places, preventing her from following the narrative. She saw only glimpses, tried to relate to them, contextualise them.
His face leering over her, sweating, his teeth yellow, eyes narrowed. Sickly triumph on his face. Laughing.
Then:
The pillow shifting, revealing the edge of the bed. Her face up against it, pushing against the frame, a rhythmic pounding behind her. Mouth against wood, unable to breathe properly, to call out, to make him stop.
Then:
Nothing. Blackness. An oblivious kind of peace.
Then:
Rage. An anxious, desperate anger, staring at Danny’s grinning face, seething.
Then:
Danny’s unmoving body.
Then:
Nothing. Here. Now.
She didn’t want to say the words again. Admit to herself what had happened. What he had done to her. It was something she would have to come to terms with. Get help for, even. But not now. Not today. Today she had to make sense of where she was, what was happening. And where she was going to go.
The Old Religion Page 19
