Boudicca Jones and the Quiet Revolution

by Rebecca Ward

‘I wish I could help. I really do.’ Rose seems genuine.

  ‘Then help me Rose. Help me to find my mum.’ Bodi takes Rose’s hand and tries to channel her despair through that touch. Hoping her own feelings of anguish and fear will reach Rose’s heart, if she has one. Rose caves.

  ‘Meet me tomorrow morning. Away from here. By Eros, on Piccadilly.’

  ‘Okay. Sure. But before then can you try to find out something? Anything about where mum is?’ Bodi pleads.

  They walk to the front door, Rose reaches up to touch Bodi’s face. She flinches. ‘So like her.’ Her eyes glisten with tears.

  ‘Like you too.’ Bodi adds as she walks away.

  Bodi is racing to St James’s to meet Reed when all she wants to do is go back to Sam’s curl up and sleep under the Map of Inspiration. She needs some way to connect to her mum because she has never felt so distant from her. Her mind is buffeted by all that has happened today, she is living a nightmare in broad daylight. She pounds along the streets at super human speed knowing that if she walks slower everything will catch up with her.

  As the working day ends, the sea of people walking the streets part in her wake. She is running on empty, drained by days of conflicting information and revelations. She has never felt so far away from Ruby. Not just physically but she feels a chasm growing between them, full of secrets. Her thoughts are so jumbled that her brain has shut them down. She simply has to get to the next place and the next and the next, and at some point she will piece it all together. The wind is picking up and she feels it numb her face. It feels good, cleansing almost. She wishes it would whip inside her ears and blow everything clear of her mind. She breathes deeply. The walking is calming her. She is going to see Reed soon and that feels like a happy distraction though she isn’t sure yet. Her experience of boys is so limited she doesn’t know whether his is normal behaviour. She has heard that friendships form quickly under stress, but is this something more? She can’t put her finger on why she feels so open to him. Is it just the security of Sam’s house and how they have taken her in? Is it as simple as that? Or does he understand her, connect with her? Perhaps he is just reaching out to someone who has lived a similar life to him. Kindred spirits through circumstance, perhaps? Yet more unanswered questions to add to the growing pile.

  Bodi catches a reflection of herself in shop window and it stops her in her tracks. She looks older than her years. Her clothes, hair and make-up have turned her into a whole other person. She feels like a stranger in her home city. Turning the corner to the church, she hopes that the others have had a more successful day than she has. Waiting for Reed, tiredness overcomes her she sits on the step and leans her head on the doorframe. As the rain starts to fall, she looks like the refugee she now is.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Reed wraps his hands round hers, waking her. ‘You’re freezing.’ Reed takes his already sodden jacket off and covers her with it. She still isn’t quite used to the fact that his face isn’t hidden behind a curtain of hair. She can see in his face that she looks even worse than she feels. She runs her sleeve under her eyes, her make-up must have run all down her face. Reed opens the door and they stepped inside the church that feels even colder than outside and Reed, with his arm around her, guides her along his well-worn route. The tunnel is full of puddles and Bodi stumbles a few times. The ladder seems never-ending though it is barely a few feet up to the trap door. She heaves herself up with Reed helping her.

  They walk into the vault together and everyone turns to welcome her but they look shocked. Bodi is wet through and shaking. Morag runs to wrap one of her biggest scarves around her and Sam carries her over to an electric heater. Hot tea and a couple of digestive biscuits appear and Bodi sits on the floor next to the heater as people fuss around her. Even in this weirdest of circumstances, it feels like the most familial set up. Holding Sam’s hand she walks over to where Balt is sitting with Evan, Flip and Reed. She feels better now she has dried out and warmed up a bit.

  ‘Don’t mind me, just been a bit of a long day.’ She tries to make light of it. She looks at her watch. ‘5.30? Is that all?’

  ‘Boudicca, we’re just having a quick debrief and then we’ll work out next steps. Evan has already told me about the missing file which is most unfortunate. And the guard. Not such a clever move. Hardeep’s one of our best men so I’m surprised he was misinformed. Felicity was just telling us about her day.’

  ‘No doubt hugely informative,’ Bodi sneers.

  ‘That’s enough Boudicca. Sit down.’ Balt barks at her. She drags a chair over with her foot and sits sulking.

  Reed starts talking. ‘How about I tell you what I found?’ Bodi shrugs. ‘Well, knowing that the file is missing I set about trying to find out where it could’ve got to, what the different options were. It started out slow, much like Flip I was trying to get the lay of the land. The post room staff has huge grudges but they’re careful who they talk too, especially me. Why would they trust some newbie?’

  ‘So basically we got nowhere.’ Bodi grumbles. ‘We’re no closer to bringing my mum home.’ She sounds flat. No tears, no emotion, just flat.

  ‘Not quite. I saw that some new prisoner files, just a couple a day, get couriered to another building. I offered to do the run but they said no. Maybe if we can follow that courier we’d be one step closer to finding Ruby. It leaves at the same time every day so it would be fairly easy to do.’

  ‘Good work Reed.’ Balt says encouragingly. ‘Very good. Let’s talk logistics and we’ll set up a team to follow this guy and take it from there.’

  ‘In the meantime who knows where she is. But hey, well done team! Woo!’ Bodi’s sarcasm cuts the talk dead.

  Sam steps in before Balt can let rip on at her about the strategic long game. ‘I’m going to get this one out of here. Think she needs some alone time. Reed. Let’s go.’ Bodi happily extricates herself from the debrief. It is all mumbo jumbo to her anyway. She has her own ways to get her mum back.

  ‘Bodi, we’re just trying to help you but we’re new to this too. Take it easy.’ Reed is hurt by her lashing out.

  ‘Why did I come here? Nothing is working. I might as well move on. I mean, what good are you to me?’ Reed doesn’t look at her any more, just guides her along the passage. She can tell he is fuming but Bodi doesn’t care. They have let her down. She doesn’t need them.

  Sam bundles her onto the bus. She can't remember how they got to the bus stop. Another tunnel through another nameless building. There is a dull murmur of talking for a while but she hasn't really noticed. The bus is reassuringly warm and noisy so she doesn't have to listen to anything. The bus is an extravagance she isn't used to. She leans on Sam. Reed had stomped off at the earliest opportunity, leaving them standing at the bus stop. ‘Teenagers.’ Sam mutters under his breath.

  Bodi and Sam alight after twenty minutes and walk the short distance to the house. Sam walks her straight up to her room telling Reed to wait downstairs. He puts her to bed.

  ‘What's this then?’ Sam gestures at the map.

  ‘Inspiration.’ She just about gets that out and nothing more.

  ‘Always was one for hero worship your mum. Nelson Mandela, eh? Well guess that's fairly obvious. Who’s that, Indira Ghandi? Bowie?’

  ‘Red hair.’ She mumbles into the pillow.

  Every time she breathes in it feels like she is force-feeding herself air. There is nowhere for it to go. She wheezes as she breathes out, holding her hands to her throat to try to strangulate the coughing. If she wants to say something, she gulps in air, thinks what she has to say and spits out the words like grit.

  Sam puts his head on her forehead. ‘You're burning up. I'll go get one of my magic potions. Just stay there.’

  Bodi looks up at him, with sad eyes. ‘Not going anywhere, believe me.’

  Bodi's fever has her shivering and reaching for blankets. The room is moving in and out on her with every heartbeat. She chastises herself to be well. Terrible timing. What about tomorrow, h
er meeting with Rose? She has to be there for that. By the time Sam returns with some hot nasty liquid in an old mug, Bodi's teeth are chattering.

  ‘I thought you came back this afternoon for a rest? You're worn out.’ Sam is squinting at her. He seems enormous to her and she feels like she has shrunk to the size of a mouse cowering in the corner of the bed.

  ‘Couldn't sleep’ is all she can manage.

  ‘Fair do’s. Drink this and then off you go, you'll feel much better in the morning. I've banished boy wonder. You don’t need him moping about. I'll check in on you in a few hours but I think after this little draught you'll be out for the count. Might have a swig myself! Could do with a good night's sleep.’ Sam gives the mug a big sniff. ‘Huughwee, that's good.’

  Bodi thinks it smells vile but chugs it down regardless. She is willing to try anything to be better by tomorrow. It tastes of old leaves and mustard. She just about keeps it down. Within seconds she is boiling hot and throwing off the bedcovers. This is going to be a long night.

  She drifts off into a world of nightmares: whirling numbers and letters. Never ending corridors of files and books and infinite ladders that she can’t be free of. Reed’s face switching with Evan’s, leaving her hanging by her fingers on the ladders, the floor miles below her. Evan laughing at her distress, challenging her to leap. Out of reach Ruby and Rose walk off together. They don’t acknowledge her screams.

  Bodi wakes at 11pm. She feels clammy all over, even her teeth ache. It takes all her strength to make it to the bathroom. The coolness of the bathroom floor is very welcome to the soles of her feet. She leans on the basin and looks at her reflection. The fever makes her sense of self even more remote. Her eyes are sunk in her head and the black hair doesn't help. It is sticking up everywhere like a witch after a bad spell. She crawls back to bed and pulls the covers over her head.

  Ruby crept into her room, dropped her backpack by the door and turned the light on.

  ‘Where have you been?! Mother’s verging on apocalyptic.’ Rose fired at her as soon as she walked through the door. She was spread eagled on her sister’s bed.

  ‘Out. And what are you doing in my room?’ Ruby whispered, trying to change the subject. Rose was wearing pink polka dot pyjamas with an R embroidered on the pocket. Her hair was tied up in a pink scrunchie. Her toe nails sparkled with iridescent polish. She was the prim to Ruby’s improper.

  ‘I was looking for my locket and I got distracted. And anyway, I’m not her. You can tell me, Reuben. Is everything okay?’ Rose asked, concerned.

  ‘You’re the younger sister Rosebud, aren’t I supposed to take care of you?’ Ruby replied.

  ‘By nine minutes. Honestly, are you ever going to let that go? So who is he? I know there’s a boy.’ Rose’s eyes lit up with the possibility.

  ‘There goes that twintuition again, sis. Have you been getting a feeling in your hoohah that there’s romance in the air?!’ Ruby cackled and flopped down in a chair, kicking off her high tops.

  ‘URGH. Twintuition’s a real thing. I know when something’s up with you, Rouble. Just because you don’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s not real. Like the time you fell…’

  ‘Fell off the wall. I know. You ‘sensed’ it. Shame it wasn’t your arm that got busted though, eh? It was sooo painful. You’re sweet, Rosamundo, but seriously, it’s a load of crap. Nice of you to worry about me. But I can take care of myself.’ Ruby loved how they’re so different. Rose was always going to tow the line and Ruby, well, she would yank the line from under her, turn it into a lasso and rein in trouble. Ruby shoved Rose off her bed, and she landed on the floor with a hard thud.

  ‘Ow!’ Rose wailed. ‘What was that for?! Seriously, you’re certifiable.’

  ‘Just, cos I can. You’re too trusting Rose, you need to toughen up a bit. People will always take advantage if you don’t.’ Rose threw a hairbrush at her sister and missed.

  ‘Great shot!’ Ruby mocked.

  ‘ARGH you’re SO annoying!’ Rose stood up and went to leave the room.

  ‘He’s hella hot…’ Ruby offered an olive branch. ‘Oh my days. I die…’ She feigned passing out.

  ‘Have you got a picture?’ Rose rifled through Ruby’s bag but Rose waved her phone from across the room. She scrolled down to find the only photo she has of Cal. He was not one for selfies.

  ‘Hm. Way cool. Who are they?’ Rose asked, pointing at the other people in the background.

  ‘His friends. They’re cool too. Bit different. Got things to say, you know?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Life. What’s important. How to change things. It’s challenging.’

  ‘Ooh very deep,’ Rose mocked.

  ‘Not for the likes of you, goody two shoes. Mother would have a hissy fit if she knew who they are. Very ‘unacceptable’.’ They both raised their eyebrows. Rose kept the home fires under control while Ruby ran riot. It had always been thus.

  “That is unacceptable behaviour from a young lady,” they chimed together.

  ‘Well, I had a very exciting day at school,’ Rose said sarcastically. ‘Double Maths. School? Remember that? Big brick building. Bursting with hideous toffee-nosed bitches in hanging green uniforms. Run by the most miserable women ever to walk the earth. Ring any bells?’

  ‘Not really. Thanks for covering for me. I know it’s a pain. Buts I loves you for it.’ Ruby squeezed Rose’s cheek. ‘I’m learning so much more out there Rose. I. R. L.’

  Rose rolled her eyes, ‘You’re unbearable! All free and no school and boyfriends. I don’t think we can be sisters anymore. I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you. Or whatever the sisterly equivalent is. I hereby un-sister you for having a life. Now I’m going to return to mine. Good night.’

  Ruby wished she could tell her sister that she loved her but they were just not that kind of family. ‘I love you’ was as rare as ‘My house, my rules’ was common. So she blew her a kiss but Rose had already left the room.

  FRIDAY

  Sun streams in through the gaps in the curtains and Bodi reaches for the glass that she hopes Sam has put there. She finds some watered down orange juice and some paracetamol. She swallows them, gagging because they feel like razor blades sluicing down her throat. She drags herself to the bathroom again and tries to wash. She has an hour to get to Piccadilly to meet Rose and nothing is going to stop her. She creeps around, not wishing to disturb Sam or Reed. She rummages in her bag for her one nice item of clothing. A floral blouse that she inherited from her mum. She needs to feel like herself again. The pale blue helps to lift her face a little. She stifles the sound of her cough with a jumper. Bodi treads carefully on the stairs, clinging to the banister for support. A huge creaking step should alert them to her exit, but the house makes lots of noises and the birds’ incessant chirping helps to cover her escape. She makes it out the gates though the floor feels like sand and she has to concentrate hard to make it to the road. Every so often she leans against a low wall or tree. There is nothing else for it; she is going to have to use her emergency funds to take the bus.

  London trundles by her as she sits at the back of the bus, leaning her forehead against the window. What were once landmark buildings stand as shells; a fake movie skyline, a broken landscape. The city is in ill repair but it never stops. Nothing in history has been big enough to topple it entirely.

  Bodi comes round as the bus approaches Piccadilly. A few advertising lights still shine powered by some unaccounted for electricity. Random letters jump out every so often from slogans for products Bodi has never even heard of. But the hazy autumn sun gives everything a warm glow. She feels like she is in the beating heart of the London, where once people congregated with friends and loved ones to take in the wonders of a much-loved city. Now it is a thoroughfare. Wooden boards wrap round the statue of Eros. It has been like that as long as she can remember. The top of the bow is just visible above the boards, his arrow always ready to strike. He has been caged like that since the riots and no one has tho
ught to set him free since. Bodi leans on the hoarding hoping Rose gets there soon. People don’t loiter here. Her knees crumple beneath her.

  ‘Boudicca? Are you unwell? Can you stand?’ Rose gets hold of her under one arm and picks her up and walks with her to a waiting 4x4. Bodi stumbles along, trying to hold her head up. Sweat drips from her forehead and she reaches out to steady herself on the side of the huge black car. Her eyes shut, she senses being picked up by someone much larger than Rose and laid down on a leather seat. Hushed, stern words are exchanged and the car starts to move.

  Bodi wakes up in a small room with a tiny window high up above her. Around her is very basic furniture but it is extremely clean. She is in a proper bed with sheets and blankets and the floor is covered in linoleum with the pattern scrubbed bare. There is an old electric heater in one corner, no books, no radio. A small wind up clock ticks by the bedside, Bodi squints to read its face. Lunchtime. A packet of flu tablets lies half empty next to it. She must have taken some when she arrived, she can’t recall. A photograph of two small children in a wooden frame sits on the nightstand, their faces set in unnaturally stern poses. A school picture perhaps. At the other side of the room the wall is lined with cleaning products. The smell of bleach and damp intermingle with the smell of cooking wafting in below the door. Roast chicken perhaps, but with something else added, it is an unfamiliar smell. Bodi’s tummy rumbles. Thinking back she recalls being in her aunt’s house, but is that today or yesterday? Everything is all jumbled up. How long has she been here? She makes her way to the door, which is locked. She treads on a note lying at the foot of the door. Pale pink embossed paper, unfolded it reveals a short note is written with a blue fountain pen: ‘Boudicca. You are in our housekeeper’s room. Please be extremely quiet. She will be in with some food when you wake. Rose.’

  Bodi strains her ear at the door and hears piano music coming from somewhere. She climbs on the bed to look out the window which is sealed shut, but all she can see is a wall. She sits on the bed wishing she were back at Sam’s. It might not be quite so clean there but at least she has the freedom to come and go as she pleases. And Reed is there. She tries the door again but nothing. Bodi sits back on the bed and waits. She wonders how Evan, Reed and Flip had got on today, whether they have found out where Ruby is being held. Sometimes it feels like seconds since she was home alone with her mum and sometimes it feels like months have passed. From one thought to another she swings from deepest despair to blind optimism. Her Mum is dead, Rose might have found her, Reed will never talk to her again, Balt might have a new source, Sam will never trust her again, soon she will be home with her friends. And so it goes until she hears the key turn in the lock and a small lady walks in carrying a tray. She wears a plain blue dress, a white apron and white trainers. Not dissimilar to what Bodi wore as Ivana. She puts the tray down and locks the door behind her, an action that looks habitual.