‘Nor should you.’
‘But it can’t be right. He’d never do something like that.’
‘You can’t know that. People are usually capable of more than you think, for better or worse.’
‘None of it makes sense. Aelred never liked guns. He always complained they were loud and ugly. And then also, no one has really seen who they have in jail. And I haven’t heard anything from anyone back home…’ Elwyn’s voice trailed off as he looked back at the courthouse again. ‘I just need to know if it’s him. If he’s really there.’
Hestia looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. ‘What difference does it make to you?’
‘“What difference does it make”? It makes all the difference. I mean, if he’s in jail, then I have to do something. I’ve got to find a lawyer or find a way to prove he’s innocent or… I don’t know. Something. And if it isn’t Aelred, then everything’s all right. I’m hoping they don’t have anyone at all, but just picked a random name and picture.’
‘That’s all right to you?’
‘Sure.’
‘You’d be fine with the leaders of this country, the courts, the law-enforcers, lying? You don’t mind them manipulating citizens to believe what they want them to believe as long as the people you know are okay?’
‘Well, I don’t know. That’s just politics, isn’t it? They might have good intentions, at least some of them.’
‘Oh, might they?’
‘Yes. I mean, I’m sure there are bad examples here and there, but there are plenty of people like your dad, too.’
‘Well, that I can’t disagree with,’ Hestia said with a cynical laugh. ‘There are certainly plenty of people out there willing to sacrifice honesty for their own personal ambition. Most of them just aren’t as good at it as my father is.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Yes, well, you’re a very good assistant to him, aren’t you?’ she said, clearly displeased, though Elwyn wasn’t sure why or where the conversation went wrong. He just knew he didn’t want to be arguing.
‘Listen,’ he said, trying to start over, ‘have you ever had ice cream?’
‘Of course.’
‘I haven’t. I got close once. When I was twelve, this woman in my hometown had a big party for her ninetieth birthday. Old Finchy, we call her. People came in from all over the woods and she bought whisky, sheep for roasting, and a bunch of milk, cream and ice. She mixed the milk and cream with big chunks of honeycomb from her hives and had us all take turns churning it in buckets to make ice cream. But she said it was a celebration of age, not youth, so people would be served oldest to youngest, and the old folks had appetites, let me tell you. By the time we kids got to it, all that was left was the melted bits of cream and honey in the bottom of the bucket, and we passed it around and licked it clean. Anyway, I’ve wanted to try ice cream ever since I got here, but no occasion seemed right. Until today.’
The cynicism had softened a bit on Hestia’s face. ‘What’s today?’
‘The day we became friends. Unless you think I’m too good of an assistant.’
If there was a hint of a smile around the corners of Hestia’s mouth, she tried not to show it. ‘You’re buying?’ she said.
‘Of course.’
The two of them got ice creams in paper dishes and walked for a while, Elwyn talking about about Aelred and Badfish Creek, Hestia talking about the girls’ boarding school where she had spent most of her young life.
‘I miss it. I’d be there another year still, before going to university, but they pulled me out so I wouldn’t miss campaign events. Boarding schools and distant daughters aren’t popular with the working people,’ Hestia said. Her father had told Elwyn the same thing, but when Rhoad said it, the idea seemed practical. Now it seemed cruel, using logic like that on another person’s life.
‘Why did you tell me about your friend’s father?’ Hestia asked. ‘I could tell everyone. I could make things worse. Why do you trust me?’
‘I don’t know. But I do. Am I wrong?’
The heat rose from the stone below them, melting the ice creams. Hestia’s was charlie-mint, Elwyn’s black raspberry.
‘Think about what I said. About what it means for the powerful to deceive the people they serve,’ Hestia said, taking her last, melted bite. ‘And I’ll be thinking about the situation with your friend’s father.’ Once again, she looked at Elwyn, assessing him carefully.
‘Goodbye, Elwyn Bramble,’ she said and walked away.
CHAPTER 22
The Man in the Cell
THE NEXT MORNING, life went its usual way. Elwyn woke early, bathed and set out through the sleeping streets to Rhoad’s house on the hill. The weather was humid, as it usually was, and in Rhoad’s office, the wet air was filled with the same smell of Mexican coffee. Elwyn wrote while his boss dictated, he filed papers and then, once finished, he joined the family at the breakfast table. When Elwyn had first started, a place had been made for him in the kitchen with the servants, but Rhoad put an end to that.
‘Don’t be silly,’ he’d said. ‘He is an assistant, not a servant. He will sit at the far end of the breakfast table. Besides, what if something needs attention? I hate to lose time in the morning.’
The change had pleased Elwyn. At the Rhoad table, Elwyn felt he was where he belonged – a part of this beautiful family, in a room with glass and mirrors, light coming in from all directions. The room was quiet, but not a quiet like at the Blackwells’, full of clocks, history and dust. The quiet at Rhoad’s house held a sense of anticipation. The large windows of every room looked out at the world. Elwyn always felt possibility there.
But though it was ordinary in every way, that morning felt different to Elwyn. Not only was he anxious about Aelred’s presence or non-presence in the nearby jail, he was also preoccupied by the things Hestia had said the day before. He had been kept awake by her words most of the night, and in the morning they still set a dull cast over everything. Elwyn kept looking over at Rhoad, thinking about the way Hestia had spoken about her father, wondering if she saw something he didn’t. But Rhoad, uninterested in subtleties of mood, sat at the table as usual, devouring three newspapers, a soft-boiled egg and grapefruit. Now and again, he would run across a sentence that he wanted to remember, and he’d say it out loud for Elwyn to write in a notebook he kept beside his plate. Hestia, too, seemed her usual self. She did not make an effort to communicate anything to Elwyn nor reassure him.
But when breakfast was over, she slipped a note into Elwyn’s pocket.
By the jail. Two o’clock.
*
Elwyn arrived first. He ate a quick lunch, answering as succinctly as possible his uncle’s usual questions about the work Elwyn had done that day and giving self-assessments of his progress in several areas. Timothy also asked again about the prospect of Rhoad endorsing the book once it was published – something Elwyn thought was unlikely. Piety asked a few questions about the work, too, ones that Timothy didn’t realise were tongue-in-cheek. Elwyn was too preoccupied to be troubled. He didn’t even notice his cousin wasn’t at the table until he got up to go.
‘Where’s Boaz?’ Elwyn asked.
‘He signed up for some sort of class, didn’t he, Piety?’
‘Chess, I think,’ she said. ‘He’ll be away for lunch a couple of days a week.’
‘Chess, excellent choice,’ Timothy said. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked, seeing Elwyn rise. ‘I was hoping I could give you a test in penmanship. We have so often missed your formal exercises, but I’d love to see if simple note-taking has a similar effect on improving your hand.’
‘Sorry. I have something I need to do for Miss Rhoad. Hestia,’ Elwyn said, walking out before the meal had finished.
‘Of course, duty calls,’ Timothy said, a little despondent.
Elwyn’s pulse rose as he turned to the door, went out into the bright midday sun and towards the jail. As he neared, he went faster and faster until he was
almost running.
‘Have you done like I said?’ was the first thing Hestia asked when she arrived some minutes later, skipping any greetings. ‘Have you thought about what it means for leaders to manipulate the people they serve?’
‘I have. But I don’t know what I think.’
‘Good. Thinking is what matters. The problem isn’t that most people are bad or stupid, the problem is that they don’t think things through. Anyway, I’m sure if you keep mulling things over, you’ll see that I’m right.’ Hestia didn’t seem to be assessing Elwyn any more. Whatever her thoughts were about him, they seemed to be quite settled, for better or for worse. ‘Here,’ Hestia said, handing Elwyn a bag with boxy things inside. ‘It’s two cameras, with the flash and film – everything’s ready. If we get in, we’ll need to take pictures of what we find there, of the empty cells, if that’s the case. Of course, the courts will just say they temporarily moved him, but it’ll get people questioning, and that’s the biggest step.’
Hestia hopped up the stairs two at a time with the athletic grace that characterised her movements. Elwyn followed behind. She handed the guard a letter from her father and talked to him with a confidence that amazed Elwyn, even as his stomach began to tighten and tighten. He wasn’t accustomed to fear, but he feared this. He feared finding out that Aelred was in jail for something he did, and he feared finding out Aelred was in jail for something he didn’t do. Now he also wouldn’t be satisfied if the cell was empty. But of all these, the thing he feared most was not finding out the truth. The guard re-read the paper once more before letting them in.
‘Why didn’t your father come himself?’ the man asked, unlocking the gate.
‘Oh, I love helping with my father’s work. I just hope I can be a little bit like him someday. I’m sure you understand – you have daughters, don’t you, Mr Timidy?’
When they got inside, the guard told them to wait there while he talked to his supervisor.
‘I thought you didn’t believe in lying?’ Elwyn said.
‘Leaders lying. To the people,’ she said. ‘Come on. The high-security area is just down these steps. It’s only padlocked.’ The deftness of her mind and movements was impressive as from her bag she took out a metal block and with one swift, silent swing, broke the lock. ‘Come on. We need pictures of every cell and the empty room as a whole before anyone notices we’re here.’
But of course, the secured room was not empty. In it was a cell, and in that was a man. The man was someone Elwyn didn’t recognise in the dim light. He was hunched, lean and swollen.
Then Aelred looked up through his tangled hair.
‘Well. The Brambles’ golden boy has finally come to visit.’
CHAPTER 23
Choices
MEMORIES FLOODED ELWYN at the sound of that voice. Over the years, he had heard Aelred singing around the fires at night, talking to Whim about distillery expenses, whispering to his young daughter as he carried her home. But there hadn’t been bitterness in his voice then, not like there was now. The bitter tone, the dirt in his hair, the patches of yellow and purple on his face that Elwyn was beginning to see – it all was deeply disturbing. The room seemed to be getting smaller around Elwyn, and his chest, too, felt cramped.
‘Aelred. What happened to you?’
‘I should be asking you that same question,’ Aelred replied, looking disdainfully at the clothes Elwyn wore, his newly trimmed hair and clean, well-fed face.
‘Are you okay? We have to get you out of here,’ Elwyn said, trying to pull at the bars as if they might come loose.
‘I’ve accepted my fate. I will speak the truth, stand for my people and accept the consequences.’
‘Stand up for what? Consequences? I don’t understand.’
‘Of course you don’t understand,’ Aelred said. ‘All your life, it’s been the same. You walk through your days not seeing anything beyond yourself. Well, look around, Elwyn. This is as real as the fine clothes on your back.’
‘I’m not the enemy here. I want to help you. I want to fix this,’ Elwyn said.
‘Of course you want to fix this. If I’m here, beaten and bloody in a jail cell, you can’t think your new, shiny world is as lovely as you want to think it is. You need to get me well and back home so you can feel good again.’
‘That’s not why I’m here. I don’t think it is. And… what does it even matter?’ Elwyn said, his chest becoming even tighter. ‘What can I do to get you out? To help?’ Elwyn turned to Hestia. ‘Hestia. You’ve got to talk to that guard again. Maybe—’
‘Elwyn, this man is on trial for an assassination attempt. I can’t just talk them into letting him free.’
‘Hey!’ the guard yelled. ‘How did you kids get in there?’
‘Elwyn, come on.’ Hestia tugged at him.
‘You get out of there,’ he yelled.
‘I’m not leaving,’ Elwyn said. ‘I know him. Aelred, tell him I know you. This is a mistake.’
‘No one comes in here but this man’s lawyer,’ the guard said.
‘I suppose his lawyer was the one who left that bruise on his face?’ Hestia said.
‘Out.’
‘I’ll let Whim know where you are. I’ll let her know you are safe,’ Elwyn said to Aelred as the guard pulled him by the arm.
‘Leave my daughter alone. She doesn’t need your help. She knows where I am. Everyone knows where I am. You haven’t bothered writing to her in a long time, and I’m glad of it. Don’t let this change anything.’
‘Aelred. Tell him you know me,’ Elwyn said. He could feel the blood pulsing through the veins in his fingers, hear it in his ears. He yelled to the guard. ‘That man doesn’t belong here. He’s not—’
‘No,’ Aelred said, composed but without gratitude or familiarity. ‘You are the one who isn’t where you belong.’
After they left, Hestia smoothed things over, somehow, with the guard, but Elwyn didn’t know how. All he could hear was his own pulse in his ears and the thoughts speeding through his mind. He hadn’t gotten word from anyone back home for almost a month, and from what Aelred said, they hadn’t heard from him either. The afternoon air was hot and bright outside the city hall. Everything seemed wrong, but there was one thing Elwyn latched onto: someone had been tampering with his mail. That person, Elwyn felt, was to blame for Elwyn’s ignorance, and for Aelred’s disdain.
At that moment, Boaz appeared in the square. He was clearly not at a chess class. He was with some friends, laughing, and when he saw Elwyn he walked over to him, bold and sneering. ‘How sweet. Hestia Rhoad’s taking her pet for a walk again. The goat was better looking.’ Boaz’s friends chuckled behind him.
‘How dare you—’ Hestia began, but Elwyn had already lunged at his cousin, taking them both to the ground. Elwyn put his arm across his cousin’s chest, forcefully pinning him. ‘Where are my letters? What did you do with them?’
‘Your letters?’
‘The ones I sent home. The ones that came for me.’
‘I don’t care about some tree-trash letters.’
Elwyn pushed down harder, and Boaz groaned. His friends weren’t helping him; they and others had gathered round in a circle, watching. ‘I don’t have your letters.’ Boaz choked as he talked.
‘They were full of important things. If I had known, I could have done something. I could have helped.’
‘I didn’t touch your stupid mail.’ Boaz choked again. This time, Hestia pulled Elwyn off.
‘I think that’s enough,’ she said.
Reluctantly, he let his cousin up.
‘You’ll get in trouble for this,’ Boaz said, rubbing his chest as he walked away, the little crowd that had formed dispersing.
‘Hestia. I am going to be gone for a day,’ Elwyn said. ‘Two at most.’ He turned and started for the train station. His hands were empty, he had no bag, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting home.
‘Elwyn!’ Hestia called after him. Her voice saying his name s
ent a ripple through his body, but it was a ripple lost in a fast-moving stream of thoughts and fears. She ran up beside him.
‘You’ll get a message to your dad for me, won’t you?’ he said. ‘And my aunt and uncle. Let them know I won’t be home tonight. There’s one train that goes out to Kegonsa in the afternoon and one that runs back in the morning. It’s, what, a five-hour trip each way?’ Elwyn was calculating out loud. The bells atop the city hall chimed. ‘I can make it, but I need to run. If nothing goes wrong, I should be back tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Elwyn!’ she said. ‘Stop.’ He turned towards her. Her eyes were earnest. ‘Listen. The trial’s in a couple of days. If your friend’s father is innocent, he needs our help.’
Elwyn’s stomach started to feel heavy, like he had swallowed a stone. Visions of the protest flooded his mind, the familiarity of the voices, the sounds. Sweat pooled on his temples. ‘Whim must be worried. I need to talk to her. I can’t just let her go through all this alone.’
‘If her father’s been coerced into confessing to something he hasn’t done, you need to do what you can to be sure wrongs are righted,’ Hestia said. ‘You need to find him a good lawyer. You need to prepare for the trial and speak for him. That’s the way your friend needs you most.’
‘I don’t know how to find him a good lawyer. I don’t know anything. All I know is that my friend is in trouble and I need to be with her.’
‘No one’s asking you to do it alone. I can help you, but not if you are going to be foolish and rash.’ Hestia’s face was very serious. ‘This isn’t about you, Elwyn. This is about protecting the life of an innocent man,’ Hestia said. ‘Go back to your friend when you have something more to offer than your condolences.’
CHAPTER 24
Campaign
WHEN ELWYN WAS LITTLE, he sometimes asked Whim what had happened to her mother. Once he asked if her mother was an angel. She said no.
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