Blackened (19 page)

Jojo moves beside me and I watch as he stands up, carefully wraps the blankets around my shoulders and raises his eyebrows. He is asking how I feel. Unfortunately I cannot give him the answer he wants.

I shake my head. If anything, I feel worse. This is the weakest I have ever felt. Forcing down tears I try to push myself up onto my elbows, but cannot. I feel so utterly helpless and useless. The most I can do is pick up a mug of water and take a sip.

Jojo leans down and feels my forehead. His frown deepens. He gestures for me to go back to sleep, indicating that he is leaving to fetch supplies.

I am too fatigued to care about being left alone. Jojo hurries down the ladder and out of the barn, firmly closing the door behind him.

Closing my eyes, I try counting sheep, counting down backwards from one hundred, counting up in twos…nothing will carry me into oblivion. The pain in my throat is too raw, my body too achy.

I look up at the rafters. Strong, sturdy, golden beams. A large cobweb thick with flies. The barn cannot be old. I wonder who indeed the outbuilding belongs to. I wonder who lay upon this mattress before me. Who found refuge in this barn and slept in this very bed?

My imagination takes off; an escaped convict, innocent though found guilty, bound for hanging; a homeless child seeking shelter…a diseased young woman pursued by two – no
three
violent men.

My thoughts veer onto a dark path; who was the man that tried to kidnap me? Why would he want me? Could he be a man hired by Father to capture me? I did not see his face, but I know he was not Father or Jean-Bernard. He was too tall to be Father and too broad to be Jean-Bernard. He wore black trousers and smelt vaguely of cabbage. There was not the slightest scent of cigars.

I shiver, partly from the cold and partly from the memory of being flung so roughly over that man’s shoulder, almost as if I were a possession to do with as he pleased. If it were not for the person who fired the gun, who knows where I would be now and what that man would be doing to me. Perhaps I would already be dead?

The concept flames up in my heart and I realise I do not want to die. Ill as I may feel, I want to survive. I need to survive so that I can find Eddie. I want to survive so that I may find love and happiness again. I must survive so that I may remember my past, return to Grousehill and find out whether Bethan is free.

A little strength lights within my breast and I cling to it. My breathing slows and I close my eyes.

I am edging towards sleep when a sudden bang – the unmistakable sound of a door opening and hitting the wall hard – strikes my brain like a scolding flame against my skin.

Jojo would not open the door in such an aggressive manner. Father has found me and I am too weak to run!

Trembling, I turn my head and peek down through the small hole in the low wall of the platform on which I lie. All I can see is a small portion of the straw-smattered floor. Then the black tip of a boot moves into view. A boot that definitely does not belong to Jojo. Jojo’s boots are brown.

Into the silence comes the sound of a man’s breathing; low, rasping, aiming for minimal noise.

A rat, scurrying fast, unafraid, stops to sniff the boot. The man swiftly yanks back his foot and kicks, sending the squealing rat careering into the back wall of the barn.

My heart is racing and my weakened body cannot cope. Sweat pours out of my pores, but I dare not shift the blankets. I cannot afford to make the slightest sound. Right now, noise is both my foe and my friend; warning me of his movements whilst disclosing my hiding place.

Suddenly, he speaks, “Lissssbeth? Lissssbeth?”

I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand. If I thought my heart fast before, that was nothing compared to the frantic pace it presently runs.

His tone is taunting, teasing. He knows I am here. But I do not recognise his voice.

“Lissssbeth?” he hisses, moving out of view.

Straining my ears I listen for the tell-tale sign of his footsteps moving towards the ladder, but hear nothing save his gravelly voice.

“Lissssbeth? Beautiful girl, come out, come out, wherever you are.”

I stay completely still, breathing as quietly as possible, willing Jojo to return and save me from this madman.

“Lissssbeth? I cannot wait to get you home. From the moment I saw you, I knew…I knew you were meant to be mine.”

The quietest of steps meets my ears. He is moving, which way I know not.

“Lissssbeth, I wonder if you will guess what I am going to do to you before I do it. I sincerely hope that you do, because anticipation heightens the senses.”

I feel faint with fear.
Jojo,
where are you?

“Lissssbeth, God has so many rules, so many that one cannot help but break a few every now and then. I tried, I really tried to resist you, to follow the will of Christ, but I could not, I cannot. You are too irresistible, too beautiful. It is no wonder that other men follow you too. I would follow you to the end of the earth and back again to make you mine. No woman can wish for greater devotion than that.”

Another step. This time I can tell he is moving towards the foot of the ladder, towards me. I fight the urge to scream, to hurl insults at him, to scream that he is insane, that I want nothing to do with him.

“Lissssbeth. The other night, I was so close to having you, so close and yet so far then that bastard Reverend fired a gun – where he got that I do not know nor care, but it was enough to make me drop you and then that little nigger whisked you away. Of course, I enjoyed pummelling my fists into that bald bastard’s face and would have continued until he lay sprawled upon the ground dead if it had not been for those interfering villagers who came out of the woodwork like mincing worms and forced me to leave him alive and breathing. Having your body resting upon my shoulder was a magical sensation and one I long to repeat. Indeed, my heat is rising just thinking on it. Your smell too. So honey sweet, bewitching. I cannot wait to wrap my fingers around your throat, thrust into you, possess you, fill you with my desire. You are my heart’s desire and once I have you I shall never let you go. Ah – just envisaging your naked form beneath me - ah, I must sate this burning need. God forgive me.”

I hear him pull down his trousers. He begins to moan and I know what he is doing. Silently, I cover my ears with my hands, willing it to stop, willing him to go away.

Finally, he finds his release and I hear him fall to the floor.

“Lisssbeth, Lissssbeth…sweet Lissssbeth,” he whispers.

To my surprise, he does not climb the ladder but walks away. I hear the barn door open and close softly. He is gone.

I lie as still as before, fervently hoping I am not imagining that he has just left the barn. Can it be that he never knew I was here? Or is he playing a nasty trick? Will he return in a few minutes and steal me away?

With thudding heart, I wait for the sound of his return, for the hiss of his voice as he caresses my name with his foul tongue. I wait and wait, but he does not return.

Gradually, my heart slows and I allow myself to believe the impossible: he is gone. I feel almost winded by relief.

Moments later, the door opens and I am all tension and fear again. Confident footsteps head straight for the ladder, ascending fast. I brace myself, unable to tear my eyes from the top of the ladder, and see a black hand on the top rung.

Jojo! I immediately erupt with tears. Jojo drops the loaf and bucket he is carrying and rushes to my side. Through my sobs I tell him what happened.

C
HAPTER 20
E
SCAPE

Three more days and nights, Jojo attends my every need, ferrying supplies to and from the barn at the least conspicuous times of the day, cleaning and feeding me.

Finally, I wake for the first time with no desire to give up. My throat still hurts but the pain is bearable compared to before. My head aches somewhat and my body is drained, but I am able to stand, walk and tend to my own needs.

Jojo wakes to discover me washed and dressed. His eyes widen in surprise. 

“Thank you so much Jojo,” I say wrapping my arms around his neck.

We embrace one another for a moment. I can smell his musky body odour. It is a rather pleasant smell. Warm, manly, true.

Jojo pulls away awkwardly and straightens his shirt.

“Has Reverend Pettigrew visited me?” I ask.

He nods. Clearly I slept through the good Reverend's visits. I am pleased to hear that he is still in the village. I half-expected him to have left for the next village in which he was scheduled to preach.

My thoughts turn to Father and Jean-Bernard and the crazy man who tried to kidnap me. I wonder where they are. Are they in Little Mersham? And if so, how will we evade them when we leave in the carriage?

Now that I am better, the need to leave becomes my focus. I must depart soon. I must get to London, to Eddie. There is no time to delay.

Wrapping a blanket about my shoulders, I walk to the ladder, climb down, pace up and down the centre of the barn scuffing strands of straw with my foot.

“I am fit to travel,” I say as Jojo descends the ladder.

He nods, smiles.

“Do you think you could tell Reverend Pettigrew and perhaps bring the carriage out here so we may avoid prying eyes?”

Jojo nods again, turns sharply and leaves the barn.

I lean against a bale of straw, resting. Descending the ladder has delivered an unprecedented assault upon my fragile system. With the blanket wrapped around me, I am not too cold. I walk to the barn door, slip out into the silvery dawn.

The air, fresh-cut with spring, enlivens my deadened senses. Daffodils beam up at me, the brightest of yellows. Gloriously alive. Grass the colour of limes spikes out of the ground, healthy and new, shining at the speck of sun on the horizon.

In the distance stands the white church, partly hidden by pale pink cherry blossoms, and a line of small white cottages. A pretty picture. My fingers itch for charcoal and parchment.

Suddenly, Adam, Eve and the carriage appear from between the church and a cottage. Straining my eyes, I see that both Jojo and Reverend Pettigrew are seated in front. Excitement flickers: I did not dream we would be able to get on our way so quickly. But this pleasure is short-lived; racing behind them is another horse-drawn carriage.

Father and Jean-Bernard must have been lying in wait, watching, biding their time. Perhaps they spied the Reverend in the village and, knowing he was my friend, kept a closer eye upon him than anyone, watching and waiting until the moment was right.

“Hurry! Hurry!” I scream.

Jojo's head whips around. He sees what I see; a carriage following at threatening speed. He faces front, head ducked low over the reins. Reverend Pettigrew mimics Jojo's posture, head bowed over the reins urging Adam and Eve to move faster.

I look back at the barn, hastily move away so that I am in line with the carriage.

Steeling myself, I stand ready. The two carriages are like two two-headed bulls charging towards me. So fast, so solid. The earth shakes and the air vibrates around me. My ears are crushed, my heart pounding hard, black, too big for this frail chest.

Adam and Eve are almost upon me, deafeningly close, yet they show no sign of slowing down. I look right and left, unsure what to do, see Jojo leaning out of his seat, arm extended towards me.

“Jump Lisbeth!” the Reverend bellows.

I have no time to contemplate the peril involved; the carriage is upon me; I am reaching up, grabbing hold of Jojo's arm, clinging on with every ounce of strength. The momentum snaps my neck back. Ice wind slaps my face, buries into my pores.

Somehow, with acute precision, Jojo hoists me up onto his lap.

My legs dangle over the side buffeted by the merciless wind. I drag them up, awkwardly swivel, squeeze in between Reverend Pettigrew and Jojo.

Jojo's breathing is ragged, yet he seizes hold of Eve's reins and thrashes them down, urging her on.

I glance back. The pursuing carriage is not far behind, perhaps twenty yards: two brown horses directed by the relentless hands of...Father and Jean-Bernard!

“Lisbeth! Stop!” shouts Jean-Bernard, his voice crushed by the wind yet audible in its ferocity.

I turn to face front, heart pounding. Up ahead stands a spear-topped fence of about waist height.

“Reverend, can Adam and Eve make it?” I ask.

Reverend Pettigrew glances at me grimly, “We can only pray...hold on!”

I grasp the seat. Jojo and the Reverend grip the reins. The fence looms: tall and strong, a fierce barrier. If Adam and Eve run into it they will almost certainly damage their legs and we will be doomed. Our only chance is to jump.

Either side, a blur of green. We are travelling at a pace I never believed possible.

“Hold on!” grits the Reverend.

I force myself to keep watching, suddenly remember the carriage attached to us – how will the carriage leap the fence too?

Then we are jolted backwards as the horses rear up, fly into the air. My back smashes against the wooden seat. Adam and Eve clear the fence, pound into the ground, tipping us forward, and the carriage smashes into the fence with an ear-splitting crunch. Remarkably, the carriage sails through after us, rending the fence destroyed; splintered pieces of wood splayed all over the ground. Are the front wheels of the carriage damaged?

Jojo passes me Eve's reins, shows me how to yield them. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him turn, kneel on the seat, lean over inspecting the damage. He exhales, eyes expressing relief, takes the reins back, and shakes his head at Reverend Pettigrew. No the front wheels are not affected, but the horses are waning.

I look back. Jean-Bernard's carriage glides through the wreckage with ease. They are gaining on us.

“Reverend?” I say.

He shrugs, “We shall keep going for as long as possible. Adam and Eve are tiring, but they will go on a while. There is nothing our pursuers can do if we continue to move.”