The Declaration
Then, suddenly, she thought of something. Slowly, she allowed herself to look up at Mrs Pincent, who was staring at her beadily.
‘Is stealing as much of a Sin as running away?’ Sheila asked, her voice quiet.
Mrs Pincent’s eyes narrowed. ‘No one has run away, Sheila. No one runs away from Grange Hall. It’s impossible. You know that!’
Sheila looked at Mrs Pincent blankly.
‘Keeping a diary,’ she continued. ‘That’s a Sin too, isn’t it? For a Surplus, I mean. Keeping a diary and writing in it plans for escaping. That’s surely a Sin?’
Mrs Pincent stood up.
‘A diary?’ she asked immediately, her eyes lighting up with curiosity. ‘Did Anna keep a diary?’
Sheila looked down at the floor again.
‘I’m an evil Surplus,’ she said, her voice level. ‘I don’t know anything.’
‘You insolent girl,’ Mrs Pincent said angrily, her eyes flashing. She walked round her desk so that she was standing right in front of Sheila. ‘If you know something, you must tell me.’
Sheila shrugged, and Mrs Pincent stared at her. Then she moved back so that she was leaning on the front of her desk.
‘You know, Sheila,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘I might be able to overlook your stealing. If you were to help me, you understand. In fact, with Anna not with us any more, I need to appoint a new Prefect. A Prefect I can trust. A Prefect who tells me things that I need to know.’
Sheila looked up at her and smiled enigmatically. ‘I think I’d be a good Prefect,’ she said softly. ‘Much better than Anna. Anna really wasn’t a very good Prefect, House Matron. Not very good at all. She hid things, you see. But I knew all about them. I notice things, you see.’
‘I do see, Sheila,’ Mrs Pincent said slowly. ‘Now, as my new Prefect why don’t you show me what you know?’
Sheila nodded gravely.
‘Of course, House Matron. I’d be only too pleased.’
Anna woke in a cold sweat. She had slept fitfully, her head filled with nightmares and she was shaking. But she felt like she was floating on a cloud, so soft were the mattress and blankets surrounding her. The woman was still there, and there was a man at her side too now. He was handsome and had dark hair and he was looking at her like she was something very special, and Anna felt a bit embarrassed.
‘I dreamt about Mrs Pincent coming to get me,’ she said to the woman. ‘And Sheila was calling after me and asking me to come back for her. And then there were Catchers, and . . .’
The man leant down to kiss her, then, and he held her to him, and he smelt like the Outside, so fresh and beautiful, and Anna found herself wrapping her arms around him like it was the most normal thing in the world.
‘Do you know who we are?’ he asked.
Anna shook her head, because she didn’t want to get it wrong, because if they weren’t who she thought they were then she’d feel stupid but also so disappointed she didn’t think she could bear it.
And then the woman said, ‘We’re your parents. Anna, my darling, you’re home now. And we’re never going to let you go again. Not ever. So don’t you worry about Mrs Pincent and the Catchers because you’re safe. No one knows you’re here, and we’ll look after you, I promise.’
‘And Peter?’ Anna asked fearfully. ‘He’s still here?’
‘He’s asleep,’ her father said, and just the fact that he was her father, that she’d allowed herself to even think the words ‘my father’, made her want to cry again. But she didn’t because she was a Pending, and crying was a weakness, even on the Outside, even when you had parents.
‘There’s someone else we’d like you to meet, if you want to,’ her mother said. And Anna sat up, because it seemed the right thing to do, and nodded and smoothed her hair down so she didn’t look too much of a mess.
Her mother got up and left the room, and a few seconds later she came back in and she put a Small in Anna’s arms. Anna didn’t usually like Smalls, particularly young ones like this. The ones she’d glimpsed at Grange Hall from time to time looked dirty and smelly and all they did was scream. But this wasn’t a normal Small. It was beautiful, with light downy hair on its head and the most wonderful smell, like heaven. And when she looked at it, it smiled at her and opened its mouth and gurgled something. Anna looked at it in amazement because she’d never known that a Small could be so intoxicating and precious.
‘He’s your brother,’ her father said. ‘And he’s been so looking forward to meeting his big sister.’
Anna stroked him tenderly. She couldn’t believe that such an incredible thing could be related to her.
‘You must be hungry,’ her mother said. Anna shrugged because she was – starving, in fact – but she didn’t want to let go of the Small.
‘My brother,’ she said out loud, enjoying the sound of the words coming out of her lips. ‘My parents. My parents and my brother.’
And then the Small began to cry, and the noise cut right through to Anna’s heart and she would have done anything to make him happy again, and she worried that it was her fault and that her parents were going to be angry with her.
Fearfully, she looked at the woman.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said anxiously. ‘What did I do wrong?’
But the woman, her mother, just laughed and took the Small in her arms and said, ‘Well, he’s hungry even if you’re not.’
Anna’s face flooded with relief, and she smiled and said, ‘I am, really.’
Then her father smiled and got up, saying he’d bring her some food, and Anna thought to herself as he left the room that she had never known that such a wonderful place could exist with people who were so kind. It scared her, because she knew she didn’t deserve it, and she knew she didn’t deserve her brother either, or her parents, or Peter. And she knew that somewhere out there the Catchers were searching, doing everything in their power to track her down.
Chapter Twenty-two
‘So she drove us most of the way to London.’
‘And can you trust her?’
‘Yes. I mean, she would have told the Catchers when they were there, wouldn’t she? If she wanted us to get caught?’
‘I suppose. And you walked the rest of the way? And no one saw you? No one at all?’
Anna stood at the kitchen doorway hesitantly, not sure whether to go in. She’d been in bed for what felt like days. Apparently she’d had a fever, which meant that she had to ‘get lots of rest’. Which had been absolutely fine by her – it was the most comfortable bed she’d ever been in, more comfortable even than the bed she had slept in at Mrs Sharpe’s house when she worked there. It had a huge padded blanket on it, and two pillows, and every time she had tried to sit up and get up, she’d found herself sinking back down, not yet ready to face the world.
Her parents and Peter were talking seriously, sitting at a big wooden table in the kitchen.
Suddenly her mother looked up and saw her and immediately got up.
‘Anna, Peter was just telling us about your journey,’ she said softly. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’
Anna nodded. She felt sleepy still, which was stupid because she’d had more sleep than anyone could ever need. She stifled her yawn and tried to look more awake.
She was shown to a chair at the big wooden table, and food was put in front of her that she didn’t recognise, but that she ate anyway, and it was the most delicious thing she’d ever eaten. She didn’t say anything because she wanted them to keep talking about whether anyone saw them. If there was any information that would make her feel more secure and safe from the Catchers, she wanted to hear it. And if she wasn’t safe, then she wanted to know that too.
‘We’ve got a bit of time, I think,’ her father said seriously, pouring her a cup of tea, which she’d only seen Legals drink and had never had herself before. It nearly burnt her mouth, but it was delicious and sweet, so she continued drinking even though it was too hot.
‘We should lie low here for a few days
,’ he said. ‘The last thing we want is to be out on the road when the Catchers are searching everywhere. Pip agrees we’re safer here than anywhere else.’
‘Barney says they’re crawling all over the place,’ her mother said, a hint of tension in her voice.
‘Catchers are always crawling all over Barney. That’s nothing new.’
Anna kept quiet, her eyes cast downwards. She wanted to know who Pip and Barney were, wanted to know why the Catchers crawled all over Barney, but she didn’t know whether questions were polite on the Outside, and she didn’t want to appear rude.
Peter caught her eye and grinned at her.
‘You OK?’ he ventured. ‘Got enough sleep now?’
He was laughing at her, she realised, and it made her smile.
‘I suppose,’ she said, pleased to see he didn’t look at all worried about Catchers. Maybe they were safe here, after all.
Peter got up again to help himself to food, and Anna found herself turning to her mother. It was no good – she had to ask.
‘Will . . . will you go to prison? If the Catchers find us? And will they take the Small away?’
Her mother looked at her, confused. ‘The Small?’
Peter wandered back to the table. ‘Ben. She means Ben.’
Her mother nodded. ‘Of course.’
Then she looked at Anna and took her hand. ‘No one’s going to prison, Anna,’ she said, then she sighed.
‘I don’t know what’s going to happen,’ she said softly, ‘but I want you to remember this. We knew what we were doing when we had you, and we will gladly suffer the consequences. The important thing is that you are safe, and that Ben is safe and Peter too. That’s all that really matters. We’re protected here – there are people all over London, all over the country, who think we’re doing the right thing and who also have children, who are going to help us. They helped us before, when we got out of prison. So I don’t want you to worry. And I don’t want you to think that you’ve put us in danger either. We put ourselves in danger, and because of us you spent many years in Grange Hall, for which we will never forgive ourselves. But you’re safe now. Because of Peter, you’re back home. And home is exactly where you’re going to stay.’
Anna nodded silently. She had so many questions, about Longevity drugs, about Opting Out, about Barney and Pip and the Catchers and Grange Hall and Peter. But she didn’t know how to ask them without blurting them all out at once and sounding like a Pending who had finally been allowed to ask Mr Sargent a question and didn’t know when to stop. So instead, she continued to eat, snatching little looks at Peter every so often, and feeling a huge wave of happiness wash over her when he caught her eye and grinned, then put his arm around her briefly to give her a squeeze.
‘This is your home, Anna Covey,’ he whispered. ‘I told you it was worth it, didn’t I?’
Anna smiled at him and nodded. But as she did so, the phone rang, and her parents looked at each other, their faces tense.
Her father picked it up, and he smiled and said, ‘Pip,’ and then his expression changed and a deep line appeared between his eyes. He nodded a few times, then said, ‘Thanks,’ and put the phone down.
‘They’re coming to Bloomsbury,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘They got a tip-off. It was the House Matron, apparently. But how could she have known? Nobody knows. Nobody at all.’
He sat down and looked at Anna’s mother, who shrugged helplessly.
‘Peter, you didn’t tell anyone anything, did you?’
‘Of course not,’ Peter said hotly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Well, then, I just don’t know,’ her father said, staring at the wall behind Anna. ‘I don’t know at all.’
Anna looked at him, terror rushing through her veins at the mention of Mrs Pincent and the Catchers. And then, suddenly, she knew how they’d found her. Knew that her First Sin had caught up with her, that her fate had been sealed the first time she broke the rules of Grange Hall, and that her transgressions were going to be the undoing not just of herself, but of everyone around her.
‘It’s my fault. I wrote a journal,’ she said, her voice barely audible. ‘About things that happened. Things that Peter told me. It was hidden in Female Bathroom 2, and then I put it in my pocket to escape, but when I got to Mrs Sharpe’s it wasn’t there.’
She swallowed uncomfortably. ‘It might have fallen out in the tunnel. Or somewhere else. I . . . I’m not sure.’
Peter stared at her, and Anna felt her heart begin to beat faster as she saw her parents’ expressions change, saw the muscles around their eyes and mouths tense. And then she found her own muscles tensing, and she braced herself, waiting to be beaten.
Chapter Twenty-three
Margaret Pincent sat at her desk, holding Anna’s pink journal in her hand and smirking. The girl really was priceless, she thought to herself. It was as if she wanted to be found.
Well, whether she wanted to or not, she’d be back here soon enough, she thought, pleased with herself. The Catchers had been delighted with her suggestion that they hotfoot it to Bloomsbury. Had assured her that the Surpluses would be back in Grange Hall within twenty-four hours. It was the boy she really wanted to get hold of, though. And the parents. How dare they? How dare they think they could have what no one else could?
Of course, the real fault lay outside of Grange Hall, Margaret thought irritably. How could she not have known there was a tunnel, leading from the basement – the very place she sent Surpluses to be secure and out of the way? Why was she not told about it before? It was just so typical of the Authorities, thinking that they didn’t need to tell her anything. Thinking she wasn’t important enough.
Well, she’d show them. She’d make sure the two Surpluses were caught and brought back to Grange Hall and then they’d see. She was the only one who’d be able to track them down – those Catchers might look scary with their black uniforms and little torture devices, but they didn’t know how Surpluses thought. Not like she did. Had they thought of going to Julia Sharpe’s house? No, of course they hadn’t.
And when she caught them, assuming they were still alive, she would insist on punishing them herself. She knew that her cruelty would far outstrip those clumsy Catchers. By the time she’d finished with them, they wouldn’t even remember their own names. They wouldn’t want to. They wouldn’t want to remember anything.
No one crossed Margaret Pincent, she thought bitterly. No one made her look a fool. Particularly not two Surpluses who should have been put down at birth, who had no right to even set one foot on this earth.
Not like her child.
Her child, who had had every right to live.
She sat back on her chair and allowed herself, just for a moment, to remember. Remember the son, the promise, the joy, and the anguish.
It had been the only thing she’d ever really wanted – to have a son, to make her father proud, to finally win his love. Impossible, of course; the daughter of the chairman of the biggest Longevity drug company could not Opt Out, not in a million years. But she hadn’t given up hope. Back then, she’d had hope in spades.
She’d gone to university, but only half-heartedly, and had then worked for the civil service. Years she had spent filing reports and signing off papers, but all the time, she was busy researching, busy manoeuvring herself into position. Everything she did, she did for one reason only: to discover a way to have a child. A Legal child, all of her own.
And her diligence paid off. There were a handful of people, she discovered, who, because of their senior position, received special privileges. The privilege that Margaret was interested in was that of being allowed to sign the Declaration, take Longevity drugs and to have one child legally. Just five officials in the whole country were afforded this benefit, to reflect their contribution to the effective running of public services. And when she’d discovered that Stephen Fitz-Patrick, director general of her Department, was one of them, she’d known exactly what she had to do.
He’d been an odious man, she thought bitterly, and hard-up too; he earned good money, but spent more than he could afford, and he drank so much that his doctor was forced to up his Longevity intake just to enable his liver and heart to cope. But he was allowed one child. One child. Her child.
She did everything for him: listened to him, agreed with him, ran his life for him, until he told her that he didn’t think he could live without her. She told him he needn’t, not if he married her. And to her great delight, he agreed.
Not wanting to waste a single moment, she got pregnant a month after the wedding. And when the first scan revealed that it was a boy, she nearly wept with happiness. Her own little boy to love her. A boy who would win back the love of her own father, who had been severely disappointed when his own wife bore him a girl, a useless female. And who had been even more disappointed when Margaret had turned out to be mediocre at best in her lessons and sport. She was not even an attractive child, he would say. Her eyes were too beady, her brow too low, her hair too thin and straight. And within a few years, he lost interest in her completely.
Until the day she gave him the news of her pregnancy. He’d actually smiled at her then, perhaps for the first time. He’d shaken Stephen by the hand too, and welcomed him into the family – something he’d not found necessary to do at the wedding. And, as the final icing on the cake, Stephen had even agreed to allow the boy to take her family name, once her father had agreed to pay off Stephen’s debts.
For several months, Margaret had walked on air. She ate nothing but the freshest food, took no exercise except brisk walking and avoided even the smallest glass of anything alcoholic. Her child was going to be perfect, she just knew it. He would be the happiest, most loved child that had ever lived. She would teach him and care for him, and everyone would stare at her enviously as she paraded him on the street. I may not be as pretty or clever as you, she would think to herself as she passed other women, but I have Longevity and a child. And that is something you will never have.