Breakdown (10 page)

‘And spirited too,' he says, slamming his hand to his head. It comes away tinged in blood.

Shit. I missed his eye.

‘Haven't had one like that for a long time, have you?' says Careem.

The General lets go of my chin, turns and faces him. ‘Don't waste my time. How much?'

Careem chuckles. ‘I want twice the usual for this one.'

‘Twice?' remarks the General, but I can hear the excitement in his voice.

So can Careem. ‘Plus guns.'

‘So you
are
going to waste my time,' remarks the General. ‘I'm not going to arm gangers, however many girls they find me.'

‘Can't blame me for asking,' smiles Careem.

‘I can just take this one and give you nothing. You're in my garrison,' threatens the General.

‘But you won't,' says Careem, ‘because there's nobody else who can get you stuff like this, not as good, not as sparky. C'mon, she'll be a lotta fun, and you know it.'

The General considers this.

‘And you know I'm your man. You can call me up any time. If you get a little problem down on your farm, or you need to shift a bitta cargo, or want to hunt a runner down, I'm your dog.' Careem leans insolently on the arm of the carved chair.

The General seems to mull over Careem's usefulness. He strokes his chin, runs his thumb along his upper lip.

‘You need a good dog in them wilder places,' Careem adds.

‘All right, twice the usual. Take half now. But I want her delivered here on Friday after those bruises have faded.' He points at my neck. ‘I don't want spoiled goods. I don't like to touch anything marked. I like to see my own handiwork. I thought you knew that.'

‘Mistake,' says Careem. ‘One of my boys got too keen – her being a looker and all that.'

The General nods. ‘Bring her back spotless and intact,' he says. ‘I think you understand.'

‘Yes, sir,' smiles Careem. ‘On Friday, she's all yours.'

I'm back in Games City. I can't sleep. I sit and hug my knees. I should have escaped while I was out. No way. No chance.
Think. Come on. You've got to be able to outthink them. What can you do? Who can you work on? You must get out. If you can get out, you can go home. You can hide
.
The General doesn't know where you live. Careem doesn't know where you live. They don't know where you live. London's big.

I hang on to that.

London's very big. I've heard gangers at night. But I've never seen them during the day. They've never seen me before.
Get out then. Hide. Get away
.
They won't find you. They'll never see you again.
I look at the walls of the room and sigh. I notice that the stench isn't so overpowering any more. Has it gone away or do I stink like them now?

Think.
Come on. They want stuff: food, fuel, weapons. They're trading you for stuff. Can you tell them of some other boat that's coming in from the north? A boat loaded with guns? It'd be a lie.
Lie through your teeth.
Would it work? When they find out it's a lie – I don't want to think about that.

But I think anyway.

You'd be long gone. You can lie as much as you like as long as you're long gone by the time the truth settles.

Remember what Nan said about lying. ‘If you're gonna lie, make it a good one. Do it upfront and bold. Don't be shy. Lie your heart out. Make it work for you. But make sure there's only one thing in the story that's a falsehood. Sandwiched by the truth a lie will work. Then get as far away as possible.'

Who can I lie to? I try to think of all the faces I've seen. Not Careem. He's too smart. He's a born liar. He'd know. And he doesn't care about anything except his hold on Games City.

Tarquin.

He tried to help even before they brought me here. He told me to run. I should have run. I would have. If I could wind back time, I'd run. I'd rather the dogs got me than the General.

I could hardly sit up, let alone run.

Tarquin's got a heart, though. He's on my side. He's been on my side all along. I've seen it. I've seen the way he looks after Lenny.

Of course. So obvious. Lenny.

That's the way forward. Work on Lenny. He's Tarquin's weak point. That's what'll force Tarquin to help me.

What is it Lenny wants?

I lie back and stare at the ceiling of the locker room. Not much of a ceiling to look at. It's all falling in and covered in black mould.

And as I'm lying there the door unlocks. And Tarquin stands there. He's holding his side. He looks tired.

‘I'm sorry,' he says.

‘You're sorry.'

‘Yep.'

‘I suppose I should thank you.'

‘You don't need to.'

‘For trying to save me from Careem.'

‘I didn't do it for you.'

‘I know.'

I go quiet.

Lenny slips in past him. He's carrying his book. He tries to settle himself down in my lap.

‘Let's look at my book,' he says. Like it's the cure for every evil.

I sigh. I'm tired.

Tarquin stands there, half leaning on the door.

‘You look nice,' says Lenny. ‘You smell nice.' He pushes his little face against my arm.

‘I'm tired,' I say.

‘Why?' he says. ‘You slept already.'

‘I didn't.'

‘You did. Quinny said I wasn't to disturb you.'

So that's what he told him. I sigh again. ‘I haven't eaten much,' I say. ‘Nearly nothing since you gave me those scraps yesterday.'

‘Oh.' A worried look passes across his face. He gets up and disappears.

‘So you told him I was sleeping.'

‘He's too young to know about the General.'

‘And you didn't want to upset him.'

‘No.'

‘What will you tell him after Friday?'

Tarquin turns his head away.

It isn't long before Lenny's back. He dumps himself just like before, straight into my lap. He holds himself awkwardly, concealing something behind his back.

Then he says, ‘Guess what I got.'

‘Your book.' I sigh.

‘Oh,' he says. He pauses. ‘Yes, I got my book, but guess what else.'

I can't guess. I don't want to guess. I'm tired and I want him to go away. The deal with Tarquin is over. I need to think up some way of getting out of here.

‘I got you this,' he says, and he whips his hand round like it's a big surprise.

And it is a big surprise. In his hand he's got a little bowl of food. Some kind of root vegetable stew with a few pieces of meat.

I look at it and I can't stop my mouth watering.

‘Thank you.' My voice breaks.

He's so happy. It must be his meal for the day.

‘I'm not sure I can eat it all. You help?'

He wriggles in delight.

‘If you sit with me we can read your book and eat.'

‘But, it's all for you, Miss,' he says. ‘Because you're nice, Miss, and nobody ever read my book to me before.' He looks thoughtfully at the food. He pushes his finger into the mix, licks it, then shakes his head. ‘I don't need to eat every day.'

‘Are you sure?'

‘OK, I'll just eat this part.' He draws a line through the food.

‘OK. You got a deal.'

I don't ask for anything to wipe my hands on, I just use my fingers, and before I know it I'm shovelling in all the food on my side of the line. It tastes so good. My stomach cramps slightly. I can't really swallow, but I keep on shovelling.

And when it's gone I run my finger round my side of the bowl. I let the taste linger. I tell my stomach to stop twisting and trying to chuck it all back up.

Lenny gets himself comfy. He curls up beside me. He props the book open on my knees. I don't mind. He looks up at me. I nod my head. He nods his. It's our secret. He looks out for me and I give him what he wants most.

I know what Lenny wants most.

A future.

So I ignore Tarquin who's still leaning up against the door.

And I start.

‘Once upon a time this girl fell in a river  … '

And as usual I make it up.

‘ …  So when all of the others are down by the racetrack, the three of them set out to find the cottage beyond the hills and there was –'

‘Me,' chimes in Lenny.

‘And –'

‘You.'

I point at the third figure in the picture.

‘And Quinny!' says Lenny.

I glance up at Tarquin. Will he bite? Can I find the words to weave the spell, to make him fall in love with a future for Lenny? A tiny cottage by a clear brook, safe between green hills, under a blue sky. Will he believe in it? I try to remember all Nan's advice.

‘You are beautiful.

‘You are so beautiful everyone who sees you will be enchanted. Use it. Some will only think of how they can exploit your beauty to further themselves. Others will worship it.'

So I look at Tarquin steadily. And I speak through my eyes:
Lenny is already in my thrall. I can take him from you. If you do not want to share our future, we will leave you out
.

‘And that's Tarquin,' I repeat. And I hold his eye.

I want to smile. I know so well how to do this. But I don't let even a shadow pass over my lips. Nan taught me better.

‘Watch the eyes, Melissa. Whether man or child, watch the eyes. When the pupils dilate, seize the chance. Don't hesitate. Don't smile. Don't let them know they are falling. Don't give your power away. And when they are ripe, pluck them.'

‘Wait,' says Lenny. He skips the book forward to the very last page.

‘Read this page.' He taps it with his finger.

The time is ripe.

I leave Tarquin to puzzle out why he can't tear himself away, why he can't come any closer. Why he feels like he's already on the brink of something so wonderful he must have it. I leave him transfixed, leaning on the door frame, and I find the words.

‘And there, spread before them, was the secret valley. There was the little cottage with the tiled roof, and there was the brook that trickled past it, down to the pool where the big fishes swam in lazy circles, and the ducks preened their dappled feathers.

‘And all around the cottage grew the hazelnut forest where the wild deer ran and the squirrels leaped, and the pheasants squawked and the rabbits nibbled the soft turf on the verges by the trees. And there on the little plot in front of the cottage was a tiny garden full of wild flowers: speedwell, eyebright, buttercup, daisy and wild white clover, and they perfumed the air so that the garden was filled with a multitude of buzzing bees.'

I let the honeyed words slip off my tongue. I look back up at Tarquin. I don't smile. I don't offer anything. I know how the mind works.

Nan taught me. ‘Be contrary. Show them something they can't have and let them suffer.'

‘Read it again,' says Lenny.

I shake my head. My throat is all caught up. I remember now how Nan used to tell me a story, how I used to hang on her words when I was as small as Lenny.

‘Can't,' I say. My voice chokes. I bite my lip. ‘I'm not going to tell any more.' I look at Tarquin.

Lenny immediately understands. ‘Go away, Quinny,' he says. ‘Go away or she won't tell about the cottage.'

And my triumph is complete.

Tarquin stands there, stubborn, silent. He wants to hear all right. I press my lips up tight. I let him struggle.

‘Please tell,' says Lenny.

I keep my eyes fixed on Tarquin and shake my head. ‘I made it up.'

‘No, you didn't,' said Lenny. He shoots an angry look at Tarquin. ‘Look – it's in the book.' He points to the picture across the double spread. ‘You couldn't have made it up, 'cos there it is.'

‘It's just a story.'

‘But you've got the key. Show Tarquin the key, Miss.'

‘No.' I shoot a look at Lenny. My eyes say,
This is our secret, have you forgotten?

‘
A key?' says Tarquin. He crosses the floor, picks the book off my lap. A puzzled look clouds his face. ‘There's no words on this page. Where did you read from?'

‘I told you I made it up.'

He shakes his head. ‘No,' he says, ‘that was real. Nobody could have made that up.'

‘Go away,' says Lenny, suddenly sulky.

‘If I made it up or if I didn't, it doesn't matter,' I say. I look up at the walls, at the twisted lockers. ‘On Friday you know I'm going.'

‘Going?' says Lenny in alarm. ‘Without me?'

‘Yes, without you,' I say.

There's a small, strangled squeal. Lenny shoots a look at Tarquin.

‘Is it true, Quinny?'

Tarquin nods.

Lenny just sits there, wooden, all curled up against me, biting his lip, glaring at the picture, refusing to look up.

And I think,
I've got to make this work. I've got to get Tarquin to believe in me. I've got to make him believe there's somewhere to go to. I've got to use whatever I can. Use Lenny. I've no choice. If he wants to hold on to Lenny, he'll have to bust us both out. Because I've got to get out of here.

Before they send me to the General.