The Division Bell Trilogy

by Rachel McLean

  This was too much for Rita. She knew they were all looking at her, thinking about her performance at Celebration. She hated that she couldn’t remember it but everyone else could; it made her feel like a caged animal being watched from outside.

  She sighed and lay down on the floor, relaxing as her head came into contact with the rough wood. It felt good. She pulled her legs out straight and arranged her arms at her sides. She closed her eyes and wiggled her fingers, resting them palms-up on the floor. She let her breathing deepen, like a tide washing over her.

  There was few moment’s silence broken by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Rita ignored it.

  “Rita?”

  It was Mark. His voice was over her, close to her. She felt herself tense and then pushed through her muscles, willing them to relax again.

  “Sit up please, Rita. We can’t have our group session with you lying on the floor.”

  She pursed her lips and whooshed out a long breath, feeling her stomach contract. She shook her head.

  She heard Mark move back. What was he going to do? Would he continue the session with her lying there? She imagined them all staring at her, cursing her in their minds. Well, let them hate her. She hated them.

  There was someone else next to her now, not Mark. One of the women. Her breathing was high pitched and she smelled of soap.

  “Rita?” she whispered. It was Jennifer.

  She screwed up her nose and tightened her eyes.

  “I think you should get up,” Jennifer said. She dipped down, her lips close to Rita’s ear. It tickled. “Mark doesn’t look happy.”

  “Fuck him,” Rita whispered in response. Jennifer withdrew.

  There were murmurs above her and then the room fell quiet again. A hand landed on her shoulder. It was large and rough; Mark.

  “Get up now please,” He said, his voice stern.

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “We need you to participate in the group session. Everyone has to play their part.”

  She opened her eyes. His face was over her; his breath smelt of eggs. She gagged.

  “What about Bel?” she asked, then closed her eyes again.

  “Bel’s unwell. I told you.”

  “She’s not here, so I’m not going to be here either. Do it without me.”

  He was still holding her shoulder. Now he started to jiggle it as if attempting to wake her. “I’m serious. I need you to get up. Join in with the others. If you don’t help your group, they can’t work through the programme.”

  “No point,” she said, not opening her eyes.

  “That’s not true.” His voice was shaky; he knew she was right.

  “No fucking point,” she repeated. “They’ll all fail.” She opened her eyes again to glare at him. “We’re the difficult ones.”

  She caught his blush before closing her eyes again. He started trying to pull her up.

  She opened her eyes to glare at him. “Leave me alone!” she hissed. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I need to help you get up, Rita.” His face looked tense and his skin had paled.

  She batted his hand away. “No. Get off me!”

  His expression was stern now. “Rita, you need to think about your actions. You don’t want to get into tro—”

  “Why not? What’s the point? I’ll be here forever and you know it. Do what you want to me, see if I care!”

  He pulled back. She was sitting up now, propping herself up with one arm behind her. The other women had backed off and were looking scared.

  “Please, Rita,” said Jennifer. “I don’t think this is a good—”

  Rita spun her head to look at her. “Oh, shut up! Whatever plan it is you’ve got to get out of here, it won’t work! You’re stuck here, just like me.”

  Mark had backed away but now he was approaching her again, his hands in front of him. She widened her eyes. “Don’t touch me.”

  He shook his head and came closer, grabbing her wrists. She struggled to pull them free but he had them gripped firmly and the movement ended up being more like a bizarre dance.

  “Calm down,” he said through gritted teeth. “It’ll be OK. I’ll help you.” He looked wildly at the others, his hair falling over his face. “We’ll all help you, right?”

  “Right,” said Jennifer, Maryam and Paula in unison. Sally said nothing. She was standing with her arms folded, grinning. Rita felt rage surge through her. She stopped trying to pull out of Mark’s grip and lurched towards him, pulling her arms in and them outwards, He yelped and let go. She brought a knee up and landed it between his legs.

  “Shit!” he cried, doubling over.

  “Rita, stop it!” cried Jennifer. “This is madness.”

  “No,” she hissed, turning to the group. “This place is madness.” She pointed at Mark. “He’s madness.”

  He was bright red now, backing away from her with an arm held up. He stumbled towards the door and pushed it open, leaning out. She realised what he was doing and lurched towards him, flailing for his leg.

  “Help!” he cried. “Security! Code B!”

  There was thundering in the corridor outside, the sound of running feet. Rita turned to the other women, staring madly. She was overcome with triumph mixed with dread. What now?

  Three orderlies appeared; two men and one woman. One of the men had a yellow moustache. Tim. He grabbed Mark and pulled him out of the room, taking his weight. The other two approached Rita. The woman reached into her pocket and pulled something out. She made a snapping motion with her arm and the object suddenly lengthened; a truncheon.

  Rita ran backwards, slamming into the wall. “Sorry!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to.”

  Jennifer, Maryam and Paula rushed at the two orderlies, trying to pull them off. But they were like fleas on a rhino’s back. The orderlies shrugged them off and continued towards Rita. When they saw that she’d given up they snapped the truncheons shut again. She slid down the wall, her hands pushing against the plaster, moaning. They picked her up and lifted her between them. She tried to struggle but it was no good; they were stronger than her. And besides, all the fight had left her. She felt like a deflated balloon, the air sighing out of her as they carried her out of the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jennifer didn’t wait for the previous woman to come out of Mark’s office and beckon her in this time; she was a few minutes late and figured he’d be alone.

  He was.

  “Where is she?” she demanded, standing over him at the desk.

  He pushed aside the papers he’d been working on and looked up at her. His face was red.

  “Sit down, Jennifer.”

  She shook her head. “What have you done with her? She hasn’t been at meals for two days now, she hasn’t been in group. And I’ve just checked her room.”

  She paused, hearing her breathing in the air between them. Venturing upstairs to the second floor eaves rooms was forbidden; her room was on the first floor.

  She didn’t care.

  “She’s not in her room. I can’t see any sign of her. What have you done with her?”

  He stood and backed towards the window, not taking his eyes off her face.

  “Please calm down. This is not going to do you any goo—”

  She advanced on him, feeling her heart slow a little. He held his ground, regaining his composure.

  “Tell me where she is. Last time I saw her she was being dragged out of group. What’s happened to her?”

  He shook his head. “We don’t discuss the details of centre management with patients.”

  She licked her lips and sat down. Maybe a show of calm would achieve more.

  “This is me you’re talking to. I know how it works. I know what rights I have, and Rita has. I was an MP when they passed the legislation, for Christ’s sake!”

  He sat in his own chair. “You told me you weren’t there.”

  “What?”

  “You weren’t there. You didn’t know.”r />
  “You know what I mean. I was an MP. I know my rights.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have the right to ask about Rita.”

  “I’ll find out, you know. I’ll find an orderly who’s prepared to tell me—”

  “You really think Mary and Tim will tell you?”

  She felt her muscles tense. “There are two members of our group missing now, and we don’t know where either of them are. How are we supposed to accept the support of the group if its members keep disappearing?”

  “I told you. Bel is unwell. She’s in the infirmary.”

  “Yes. This infirmary that I can’t find any evidence of. None of the women I’ve spoken to has been there.”

  “Well…” She could sense him chewing over his options, deciding how much to tell her. “That’s because we don’t often have need for it.” He looked up at her. “It’s not some great big hospital ward, you know. It’s just a room. Tiny. More of a sick bay than an infirmary, really.”

  “So is that where Rita is, too?”

  His eyes widened momentarily. “Yes. You saw how unwell she was.”

  She shook her head. “No, she’s not unwell. She’s angry, and she’s desperate. She wants to get out of here, and now she believes she never will.” She slowed down, aware that she was garbling her words. “She needs her friends around her.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Friends?”

  “Yes. The group is the closest thing any of us has got to friends in this place. Unless you think we should consider you a friend?”

  He allowed himself a chuckle. “I think you’re getting a little past yourself, Jennifer. I’m your counsellor. You not long ago failed Celebration. You should be trying to keep in my good books, no? Not barging in here accusing me of all sorts of things.”

  “I didn’t acc—”

  “Strictly, no. But I’m not stupid. You think I’ve done something with Rita, something illegal. Don’t you?”

  “I just want to know where she is. And Bel.”

  “I have good news on that front.” He stood up again and started pacing the room, avoiding her eye. He paused at the window and turned to her. “Look. Come with me. Let’s take a walk.”

  “A walk?”

  “Yes. It’ll do you good. Fresh air.”

  She hesitated. She hated doing as he asked, but the thought of getting outside was almost too much to bear…

  “OK.”

  “Good.” He beckoned her up with his eyes and she followed him out of the room. They walked to the stairs at the end of the corridor and he headed up without looking back to check she was there. She followed, hating herself. Hoping none of the other women would see.

  As they crossed through the lobby of the house, a space she had only had cause to venture into a couple of times, Mark froze. A door about ten feet in front of them was opening. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the front doors, shoving her outside. As he dragged her through she caught a glimpse of yellow emerging; Yonda Hughes?

  She smiled to herself. If he was breaking the rules, then she had one up on him.

  She shook her arm free and he glared at her. “Don’t do anything stupid. This place is secure.”

  She sighed. “I’m not stupid, either.”

  “Let’s hope so.”

  She followed him along a path that led away from the house to its side, passing through a gap between two hedges. Beyond them towards the back of the house, she could see a few women walking. Some were accompanied by orderlies, others weren’t. What did you have to do, to be allowed out here?

  Finally they arrived at a curve in the path and he stopped. He looked over her shoulder, checking they were alone. She followed his gaze. The house was hidden by trees and shrubs from here.

  He turned to her. “Right.”

  “Why all the cloak and dagger?” she asked. “Surely you can say whatever it is you need to tell me inside.”

  “Don’t you like being out here?”

  She said nothing; that wasn’t the point.

  “Right,” he said. “I think it’s time we had a proper chat.”

  “A proper chat? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing at all my one-to-ones?”

  “Not that sort of chat. I want to tell you how I can help you. Get through Celebration. Get out of here.”

  She narrowed her eyes. A rustling sound came from behind her and he pushed her to one side, his eyes full of panic.

  “Come on,” he barked, and grabbed her hand. She tried to snatch it away but his grip was too tight.

  “Let go,” she grumbled, as he pulled her further way from the house. They crossed a small patch of lawn from where the corner of the house became visible again. He kept his head down, picking up pace. The low sun hit the lawn, dappled as it was filtered through nearby conifers. Soon they were among those trees, their foliage deadening any sound. How close were they to the road?

  He stopped and she nearly stumbled into him. At last she pulled her hand away.

  “Don’t do that,” she told him. “I’m not a piece of meat.”

  “Sorry,” he shrugged, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. She wondered what the staff here thought of the women, whether they saw them as individuals or just anonymous bodies to be processed.

  “I don’t want your help,” she said.

  “What? That’s not what you said.”

  “It’s different, now.”

  “How?”

  “Christ Mark, can’t you see? How am I supposed to trust you when you won’t tell me what you’ve done with Rita and Bel?”

  “I told you, Bel’s doing well.”

  “You told me nothing. You dragged me out here with no word of explanation.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What’s going on? What are you up to?”

  “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. Look, I’m sorry. I was about to tell you about Bel. Good news. She’s coming back to the group. She’s a lot better.”

  “Really? And how did you make her a lot better?”

  “Why don’t you trust me?”

  She barked out a laugh. “If you need to ask me that then you’re twice as stupid as I thought you were.”

  He glanced around the clearing they were standing in. Snowdrops lay in a carpet at their feet, and she could almost smell the still cold. He shook his head and leaned in towards her.

  “You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m your counsellor. It’s up to me to recommend you for Celebration. No Celebration, no release. You need to show me a bit of respect.”

  She swallowed. “Seriously? After what you did to Rita?”

  “I did nothing to Rita.” He pulled a hand through his hair. “She’ll be back, soon. We’re helping her to get better, that’s all. Stop worrying.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He put his hands on his hips. “Jennifer, do you want to get out of here? Do you want to see your family again?”

  She felt her chest clench. “Of course.”

  “Well, stop banging on about Rita. Stop bandying accusations around. And accept my help. Don’t forget what it is you really want. Your family. I can help you with that.”

  “And my friends?”

  “They’ll be fine. Don’t worry about them.” A pause. His blue eyes were drilling into her; there was a sheen of sweat on his upper lip. “Worry about Yusuf, and Samir. Hassan.”

  She shuddered. “Don’t talk about them. They’re not yours to talk about.”

  He sighed. “Don’t you see? That’s your prize. Accept my help and you’ll get them back.”

  She hated him for using her family’s names like that; but it had worked. She felt as if the high wind that had been billowing through her sails, powering her anger, had dropped like a stone.

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe you. You lied to me about Yusuf.”

  “What?”

  “You think I wouldn’t have asked Catherine,
when she came here?”

  “Catherine?”

  “Catherine Moore. Home Secretary. She was here. I saw her.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “She told me that Yusuf’s fine. He’s at home. He wasn’t arrested, at least he wasn’t charged. That’s not what you told me.”

  “I didn’t in as many words—”

  She put up a hand. “Stop. You’re lying, even now.”

  “Fine. Don’t trust me then. You’ll never get out of here though.”

  “I will.”

  “How? You already know that you can’t lie your way out.”

  “I’ll find a way.”

  “Well, good luck with that.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shook his head. “I’m being genuine, Jennifer. I hate what they’re doing to you. I want to help you.”

  She frowned. “They?”

  He blushed. “I mean the system. This place. You deserve better.”

  “I do? But Rita and Bel don’t?”

  “Oh hell. Just think about it. Your priorities. If you get out of here, you can help them much better than you can stuck in here.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

  “Sorry?”

  “Look. If you’re so desperate to help me, then the first step is to answer my question. Tell me what you’ve done to Rita. Bring Bel back to group. Show me that you’re not lying. Then maybe I’ll start to trust you. But if you can’t give me that, then why should I believe you’ll help me?”

  He rested his hands on his thighs and leaned over, putting his weight on his knuckles. “Alright.”

  “Alright?”

  He straightened up. He seemed smaller; despite their almost equal height she felt as if she was suddenly towering over him.

  “Alright. I’ll bring them back. Both of them. So will you accept my help?”

  She looked up towards the treetops. She could hear birds calling to each other between them. Freedom was so tempting. She had nothing to lose, surely?

  “Yes.”

  He relaxed. “OK. Here’s what I can do for you.”

  He stopped talking at a sound behind her. She turned. Someone, or something, was approaching through the trees. She could hear footsteps, crunching on the low woodland plants surrounding them. She thought back to that flash of yellow in the lobby. She turned back to him, her eyes wide.