‘Me too,’ I said, standing up. ‘Let’s get started.’ I figured if I could make myself useful, Pa might reconsider sending me away. It was either that, or go into hiding, and I wasn’t one to run away.
Liss and Annabelle had moved into Luc’s house for the time being. Pa didn’t want them staying here in case they changed their minds and fled the perimeter, or were tempted to try and turn me over to FJ. I didn’t think they would betray me, but Pa reminded me that Liss’s family’s lives were at stake. That most people would do anything to save the lives of the ones they loved – betray a friend, kill even. He ordered them watched at all times.
Plus, Ma couldn’t really cope with anybody staying at our house. Sometimes I didn’t think she would ever return to her normal self again. Since Skye’s death, I’d been treating her like a delicate child who could throw a tantrum at any moment. But there wasn’t time to think about Ma’s state of mind. We were all too busy, working round the clock, fortifying the perimeter.
The perimeter had always had its fence. That’s what made it what it was – its towering, unscalable electrified fence, keeping us safe inside and everybody else out. But it was only ever built to keep out raiders and looters, vagrants and anarchists. It was never built to withstand an army. To withstand bombs. Since the threat of Grey, the Perimeter Council had built a secondary line of defence inside the boundary – a double-skinned wall, built of brick and stone, almost as high as the fence, totally obscuring the inside from view.
Toward the top of the wall, a series of wooden walkways jutted out, running almost halfway around the northern perimeter. They were to be used as lookout posts and, in the case of an attack, as shooting platforms. Holes had been left in the wall for the guards to fire out of – an idea borrowed from the walls which enclosed Salisbury.
The day after Liss and Annabelle’s arrival, hundreds of us lined the perimeter, busily topping the new brick wall with razor wire and glass. I worked in a team with Liss, Annabelle, Luc and a guard called Jenny who had been posted with us to keep an eye on Liss and Annabelle. We had one ladder between us, some clay-grass cement, and a bucket of broken glass.
The sun shone and the temperature had warmed up a little from previous days, but the mood was somber and quiet. We spoke to each other in hushed whispers, everyone worried about the approach of FJ and his army. What would he do once he discovered Grey was dead? Was he really only coming for me and Grey? Or did he have another agenda? Pa was convinced he was after our oil supply and most people agreed with him.
Luc and Liss stood on one of the high platforms, setting vicious shards of glass into wet cement, Annabelle was halfway up the ladder and Jenny stood at the bottom, passing up the glass. I, meanwhile, was mixing up the next lot of clay and grass concrete, adding water to achieve the right consistency.
We’d tried to tell Liss and Annabelle that they didn’t need to work today. That they should rest. It was obvious they were half-starved and exhausted, but they said they wanted to help and we couldn’t persuade them otherwise. Thankfully, Pa hadn’t mentioned packing me off to my grandparents again. I think he was too busy. Either that, or he had given up once he realised I wouldn’t back down.
I hadn’t even had time to think about Lou and the gypsies. Yesterday’s visit to The Walls felt like a lifetime ago. No one had mentioned the missing firewood, so I hoped I’d gotten away with it.
Liss gasped, interrupting my thoughts. ‘Are you alright?’ I heard her say.
I jerked my head up to see Luc holding his hand, crimson blood soaking into his gloves.
‘Luc, come down,’ I called. ‘I’ll run and get some bandages. Won’t be a minute.’ I turned to go.
‘It’s okay,’ Liss called down from the platform. She reached under her coat and tore a strip of material from her shirt – well actually it was my shirt. Liss carefully peeled the glove off his injured hand and Luc held it out while she wrapped the cloth around his sliced fingers.
‘You should get that cleaned,’ I called up. ‘In case it gets infected.’
‘I’ll be fine, Riley,’ he said without looking down. ‘Liss has sorted me out.’ He smiled at her and she flushed, bowing her head.
Annabelle saw me looking at them and I gave her a quick smile and got back to mixing my cement. What had I just witnessed? Did Liss have feelings for Luc? Were her feelings reciprocated? I told myself not to be ridiculous. The girls had only arrived yesterday. They’d only spent one night at the Donovans’ house. Liss was simply being helpful, that was all.
Things were still so awkward between me and Luc. He hadn’t initiated any conversation with me today and I couldn’t think of anything to say to him either. I folded more grass into the clay mixture and stomped on it. Liss was very pretty. Petite and fair, she reminded me of one of the flower fairies from a bedtime story book Ma used to read us when we were little. I, on the other hand, was tall and ungainly like a giraffe. Liss was quiet and self-contained, while I was outspoken and unladylike. Was it any wonder Luc preferred her company.
‘You ready for the next lot of cement?’ I called up.
‘I’ll come down in a sec,’ Luc said. ‘We need to move along to the next platform.’
‘Okay.’
Liss climbed down the ladder while Luc finished setting the last few shards of glass, ignoring his blood-soaked bandage.
‘I don’t think broken glass will be enough to stop my brother,’ Liss said. ‘He’s always been very determined. You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘I think I’m learning,’ I replied. ‘And the glass is only one line of defence. We’ve got a lot of other strategies.’
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘You’ll need them.’
As the minutes rolled by, we worked our way steadily along our section of the wall, hardly speaking, just concentrating on the job in hand. Tension hung in the air like a thick mist. Liss had been right – it didn’t feel like we were doing nearly enough. What if Grey’s army used explosives like before? All it would take was a single blast in the right location and our defences would be breached.
As soon as we broke for lunch, I decided to make an excuse and leave. We’d all brought food, but I didn’t think I would be able to bear the awkward silences and overt politeness between me and Luc. Things were still frosty and it was doing my head in.
‘I’ll be back after lunch,’ I said.
‘We’re only stopping for twenty minutes or so,’ Luc said. ‘There’s loads left to do.’
‘That’s okay,’ I replied. ‘I won’t be long.’ But I had no intention of returning. I would go up to the guards’ house and see if they could find me another job. Luc and the girls could easily manage without my help.
I walked quickly, eating my lunch of fruit loaf as I went, giving myself indigestion. But when I got there, a double security detail was guarding the main gate and they wouldn’t let me inside the house.
‘I need to see Roger Brennan,’ I told Liam, one of the guards on duty.
‘I’ll get him for you,’ he said. ‘Wait here.’ He turned and disappeared into the red brick building. Two minutes later, he re-emerged with Brennan.
‘Hello, Riley,’ he said. ‘What’s the problem? I thought you were working on the wall today?’
‘I am . . . I was. But I wondered if . . .’ This wasn’t going well. He was probably only giving me the time of day because I was Johnny’s daughter.
‘Can you make it quick, Riley,’ Brennan said, not unkindly. ‘I’ve got to go up to Charminster in a minute. Their radio’s down and we haven’t been able to warn them about FJ. I could do without the trip. There’s too much to sort out here.’
‘I’ll go,’ I said. This was perfect. I had wanted to warn Lou about FJ’s approach anyway. Last time Grey’s army had come down this way, they had terrorised the gypsies and looted their camp for provisions. What if they did that again? Lou and the others wouldn’t survive the winter after another raid; they were low enough on provisions as it was. There was no way De
nzil would let me ‘borrow’ a truck again, so this could be the perfect opportunity to tell them.
‘You want to go to the compound after what happened last time?’ Brennan said. ‘I heard you were caught up in the riots.’
‘It’ll be fine. I won’t go inside. I’ll just tell the guards on the gate and then I’ll come straight back.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous. No civilians allowed outside the perimeter alone.’
‘I’ll go with Denzil,’ I said, knowing that was probably the only way he would let me out of here.
‘Denzil’s busy.’
‘Liam then,’ I smiled up at the guard, who looked at Brennan for confirmation.
‘Liam’s on duty.’
‘Okay, well who can you spare?’
‘I don’t know if I can spare anyone, Riley.’
‘There must be someone. It’s not far. I can be there and back in a couple of hours. You’re needed here. It’s a simple errand. It makes sense to send me.’
‘I suppose you could go with Luc.’
Great. Of all the people he could have suggested, why him? ‘He’s busy on the wall,’ I said lamely.
‘Well so should you be, Riley,’ he said, his patience running out. ‘Look, either go with Luc or get back to work and I’ll go myself. Either way . . .’
‘Okay, I’ll go.’ Even as I said the words I was regretting them.
‘Take one of the guards’ vehicles,’ he said throwing me a set of keys. ‘Do not enter the compound, just tell them I sent you, inform the guards of the situation, turn around and drive straight home. I need you back inside the perimeter before nightfall, or your father will have me hanged. No excuses.’
‘Yep,’ I said. ‘I’ll go straight away.’
My first thought was to drive out of here without Luc. I really didn’t want to spend the afternoon in close confinement with someone who obviously couldn’t stand to be in my company. But unfortunately, there was no way Liam would have let me out of the gates alone. I had no choice but to take him with me.
‘Be careful,’ Brennan said.
‘I will.’ I turned and jogged toward the parking lot around the back of the guards’ house. My stomach clenched with nerves at the thought of spending time alone with Luc. I didn’t think he’d be too happy about it either.
Chapter Nineteen
Jamie
When Jamie awoke it was with a feeling of utter calm. Once again, there had been no nightmares. No dreams at all. This was some kind of miracle. Whatever Matthew and James Grey were selling, Jamie decided he was buying.
The other men were beginning to stir. Jamie felt a little intimidated at the thought of getting to know all these strangers. He was used to his own company. Sure, he’d spoken to other people occasionally on the outside, but it was generally safer to keep himself to himself. Of course, he hooked up with the odd girl from time to time, but that was different. Still, Jamie didn’t think he’d have to worry about ‘making friends’ here, as people didn’t speak much anyway. The guys in his dormitory certainly weren’t the chatty type – there was no small talk, chit chat, or one-liners. None of the usual blokey banter you found among big groups of men. Just the quiet shuffling of people getting dressed and the odd cough. Well that suited Jamie fine. He’d keep his eyes down and try to stay invisible.
After everyone had showered and dressed, they proceeded downstairs into a canteen-like room where there must have been a couple of hundred other men already seated at wooden tables. Jamie followed his roommates to an empty table with benches on either side. They all scooched up so there were five on each bench. Jamie found himself sandwiched between Jeremiah and a middle-aged man wearing an eye-patch.
Once all the tables in the room were filled, men came in carrying trays piled up with bowls of steaming porridge. A bowl and spoon was placed in front of Jamie and he grabbed his spoon and began to dig in. Suddenly, Jeremiah lunged for his wrist and forced his hand with the spoon back onto the table. He was surprisingly strong and Jamie had no choice but to let go of the implement.
‘What are you doing?’ Jamie asked. At first he’d thought the man was attacking him, but then he realised he was trying to stop him eating. And Jamie was starving. The last time he’d eaten was yesterday lunchtime when John had given him that bread roll. And now this porridge smelt amazing.
Jeremiah waggled his finger at Jamie and tutted, shaking his head in disapproval. Realising that no one else was eating, Jamie reluctantly nodded and mouthed the word, ‘okay’. Jeremiah gave a smug smile and patted Jamie’s shoulder.
A man at another table stood up. Everyone else bowed their heads and Jamie followed suit. The man recited a prayer out loud, thanking God and James Grey for the food they were about to eat. His voice was soft and clear. Once he was seated again, all the men began to eat.
Jamie burnt the roof of his mouth with his first spoonful, but he didn’t care. The porridge was thick and sweet and lovely. Even Jeremiah slurping and burping next to him couldn’t detract from how good it tasted. And he felt so awake and refreshed – energised for the first time in ages. All he needed was to get rid of these damn crutches and everything would be right with the world.
Once everyone had cleared their plates, all the tables began to empty except for Jamie’s. The other men filed out in silent orderly lines. The lack of chatter was still strange and a little disconcerting, but Jamie figured it was better than a load of intimidating noise and the usual fights and scuffles you came across when you found large groups of men in any one place together.
Their table would probably be the next to leave the canteen. Jamie wondered what he would be doing today. Some kind of task maybe. He quite fancied gardening. That would be a pretty nice, easy job he reckoned – weeding and hedge cutting and whatnot. He remembered, as a child, seeing someone on one of those ride-on lawn mowers. Now that’s a job he’d enjoy. Maybe you got a choice of what you could do here. He’d definitely opt for the ride-on mower job. He’d have a good chance of getting it, too, as it was a sitting down job, and what with his leg all banged up, he’d be a prime candidate for it.
Jamie’s daydream was interrupted by the arrival of several serving staff with large metal vats, which they placed in the middle of their table. They also placed large hessian sacks on the floor behind them. Jamie turned to look and saw the sack immediately behind him was full to the brim with muddy potatoes. Jeremiah reached around and plucked a spud and a knife from the sack. He pointed at Jamie to do the same. Jamie sighed. Bang went his dream of the ride-on mower – he was to be a kitchen hand, a flipping skivvy.
Out of the window, Jamie spied the other men. But not just the men from their canteen, no, it looked like there were hundreds of men all lined up in a vast courtyard. Jamie craned his neck to see further, but he couldn’t tell how far the lines stretched in either direction. Perhaps they were going to do some kind of morning exercise.
And then the men began to move away. They walked in an orderly, regular fashion – not quite marching, but almost. Each line peeled away one-by-one, leaving the courtyard to go who knew where. Maybe they were going to work in the fields.
Three hours later, Jamie’s hands were encrusted with mud, blisters and tiny cuts. He’d peeled enough potatoes, carrots, swedes, parsnips and turnips to feed the five thousand. But apart from the sorry state of his hands, he’d actually quite enjoyed getting lost in the monotony of the work. The earthy smell of the vegetables had soothed him. He reckoned he could get on board with this type of work. It was alright.
Lunchtime was a short break where they ate bread and cheese and a few raw vegetables. None of the other men returned for lunch; it was just him and his roommates. Jamie reckoned the others were probably eating in the fields and would be back for their evening meal. He was proved right – the other men did indeed return for supper and the canteen was full once more. While eating his stew, Jamie realised he’d been inside all day. He yearned to poke his nose out into the fresh air, but it did
n’t look as though he was going to get the chance. He wasn’t used to spending so much time indoors. Maybe he could ask John about it. Once supper was over, Jamie cleared his throat and spoke in a loud whisper.
‘Erm, John.’
John looked up with a frown.
‘Can we go out and get some fresh air?’
John shook his head and put his fingers to his lips. Jamie felt like a child in kindergarten, but he didn’t pursue his question. Some of the men on the other tables were giving him disapproving looks and he didn’t have the courage to continue speaking.
Later, once they were back in their dormitory, John approached him.
‘You’ve done well today,’ he said. ‘You’ve worked hard. Contributed. I’m pleased.’
Jamie gave a nod.
‘Some days we work outside. Not this week though.’
‘Right,’ Jamie replied. ‘Thanks for letting me know. It’s just I’m used to . . .’
John held his hand up to silence him. Jamie stopped mid-sentence. They looked at each other for a moment and then John turned away to continue getting ready for bed. Jamie felt foolish and annoyed, but he guessed he’d have to get used to this not-speaking malarkey if he wanted to stay here. All in all it wasn’t too hard a price to pay. Was it?
It was the kind of summer that Jamie normally loved – warm and dry with the odd thundery shower. Before, when he’d lived outside, he’d always welcomed warm summer evenings and the chance for a comfortable night’s sleep, not the usual damp and chilly affair that Britain had to offer. But now, here under James Grey’s hospitality, he had an actual bed in a dry dormitory, clothing, food and safety – the weather was almost irrelevant.
It was amazing how quickly you could get used to something different. He’d been living at The Close for over a month and the days drifted into one another like clouds in an autumn sky. The routine was comforting, the quietness addictive and he’d even grown used to Jeremiah and his childish ways.