Chasing Freedom Home (Malinding) (8 page)

16

His new class waited for him to begin. Some of them had been waiting for two hours. Not, of course, that he was two hours late; that would have been impossibly impolite. They had been waiting because they were eager to learn, because some of them had walked in from neighbouring villages or simply they were curious to see what sort of man the boy had become. There were two hundred of them crowded into the compound of the nursery school at Malinding village.

His mother had walked with him to the school but had not mentioned the size of his class. She had led him to the Baobab tree in which her husband, his father, had sat and told stories so long ago. She introduced him, then stood back.

'Villagers, men and women, greetings to you and your families. Greetings to your parents and to your Imams and leaders. This is Ed-Lamin Edwards, son of my late husband, who has come to tell you stories and listen to your questions. Maybe he will come often to this tree, as his father, my late husband used to do, and talk to you many times in the future. We shall see; it is all in the gift of God. Ed-Lamin, perhaps you will greet your audience and talk to them for a short while? Remember, many of them have homes far away to which they must return tonight?'

The Imam, who just happened to be in the crowd, led the prayers for God's guidance and gift of wisdom, then sat on the sand next to Sirra. The gathering looked at Ed, who looked back at them.

'Alkalo and Imam of Malinding village, neighbours, friends. Greetings; it is kind of you to come to hear my poor words. There is more wisdom facing me than ever I can reflect back to you. So I ask you, what can I talk to you about?'

'England, the Motherland, talk to us about England!' a babble of voices repeated the suggestion. 'Speak to us of England; we hear too many lies.' 'We have family there but we no longer hear from them.' 'The truth, we need to hear the truth.' He took a deep breath.

'I do not know if there is a truth I can speak about England. I can tell you this though: I lived there for half my life and thought it was my home. I continued my education there, met the woman I wished to be with for the rest of my life there, lived with her in a house we called home and fathered a child. For all that time, though my roots were here, in this village, I expected to live the greater part of my life there, become part of that community and work there as a teacher. That was my dream and that is what it proved to be, just a dream.

True, I was aware that some people, natives of that land, took exception to my colour. If I spoke to them on the phone, I was English. If I met them in the street or in their offices, I was black. My skin spoke for me. I was abused, and if Jane was with me she too was called vile names. But I supposed, mistakenly, that these people were powerless because they were a tiny minority, a fraction of one percent of the population.

‘Then came a General Election and everything changed. For a variety of reasons - apathy, laziness, disillusionment about politicians who abused their status and lined their pockets and despised their voters - for many, many reasons, at that last election most people did not bother to vote. More than eighty percent stayed at home. Others, myself among them, attended the polling stations and destroyed their ballot papers. If only we had known. But the supporters of one tiny political party made sure they voted; the Purity People's Party. They voted. Every single PPP candidate was elected. For once we had a ruling party that kept its promises. They took the country out of the European Union. They closed the door to immigrants, and they did that effectively; they fined any one who brought an immigrant into the country a million pounds. Warships patrolled the English Channel and sank vessels that did not stop. People with skin like mine were rounded up and, as I saw with my own eyes, killed. Her Majesty the Queen, with all her family, were forced into exile. I do not know what happened to my Jane, and I do not dare to think about what may have become of our child. This government was clever and devious. They did not do as Hitler did; they did not build huge death camps. They used smaller places in deep countryside, in the bush as you might say. There they imprisoned, tortured and killed a few people at a time. They seem to have no difficulty recruiting killers. It was done so stealthily that even I had no idea of what was happening until I too was imprisoned. I became a non-person. I did not exist, I had no identity. My passport was taken, my qualifications were declared false, I was dismissed from my employment. I was fortunate, I suppose. I lost everything except my life. I was helped to escape by a group of people so brave, so willing to risk their lives that I must suppose them to be super-human. But they were just ordinary people who saw evil and resisted it. I do not even know the names of some of those who helped me. I cannot tell you, even though I trust you, the names of those I do know, for fear that somehow that simple naming will bring about their deaths. But here I am, alive today because of their bravery. You may know of a similar organisation in the days of slavery - I see some of you nodding - which was known as the Underground Railway? So is the English system known, in honour of its American predecessors. It was that railway that brought me here, and I hope and trust that if members of that railway company ever need a new home, a new land to live in, I hope they will be welcome here, even in this village, and stand under this noble tree as I stand here today in the place where my father once stood.'

He finished speaking, and there was silence, a long, shocked silence. He looked at his mother; she nodded slowly as if to show she understood the message her son had given to his audience.

He asked if there were any questions. Normally there would have been a flood of enquiries; people would have offered solutions, made speeches of their own. But not on this occasion. There was silence; some wept quietly, realising they might never see their loved ones again. The Imam stood. He led the prayers, asking again for God to grant them wisdom. The crowd dispersed, melting into the evening as quietly as sand drifts along a beach.

Mother and son walked silently home. Ebou was brewing Atayah and smiled.

'I hear you are to move into your father's house?' Ed looked at his mother.

'It has been waiting for you, and is ready now. You may sleep there tonight if you wish. Binta has made everything ready. I have put clean clothes for you, as once I did for your father. You will eat with us until you have made your own arrangements for a housekeeper. Do not worry about finance. My husband has made a suggestion that you are employed at the school as an advisor, and that you also receive a salary as a tutor in the adult learning department. I do not suppose that any of your finances from England will find their way here!'

'If you have other plans do not allow our modest proposals to hinder them'  Ebou said. Ed-Lamin shook his head.

'No. No, I have no other plans. Your kindness is more than I deserve. I left here with hopes of what might be a better life and I found a living hell. At first everything was wonderful, and I will remember the happiness of being with Jane for, I hoped, the rest of my life. I still cannot believe that we will never meet again. I wake every morning and think she has just got out of bed before me.' His mother nodded, but said nothing. 'I am grateful, Ebou to you and my mother and to Binta. I will do my best to deserve your kindness.'

'Return to us, live with us, work with us. You are not a stranger here. Who knows the future? Only God. Sleep well. Perhaps your mother will show you the arrangements in your new house.'

17

Theresa and Grant were deep in conversation when he arrived in the kitchen. He paused outside the door and listened.

'He's found the camera, the bastard. He put on an act and then dragged me to my room and raped me.'

'Well, we expected him to do both, didn't we? He's a smart guy.  It's not like you to be prissy, is it?'

'He buggered me. You were supposed to look after me. He really hurt me, the sod. Pretended to be upset that I was in his wife's bedroom and then...'

'And then what did I do?' Geoff walked into the now silent room. 'Come on, I'm sure Grant wants to know all about it. What is he? Your father? Your uncle? One of your lovers?'

'He's my stepfather. He looks after me. All Senior Watchmen have to be checked out. I was just doing my job, sir.'

Senior Watchman Bibby smiled and walked out of the house. He reached the end of the gravel drive and made a phone call.

'Frank? It's Geoff. I need a little favour and you need a little promotion. Send me two of your lads, any two with a bit of muscle, soon as you can. Right? I've found your replacement at last. He'll need a little encouragement but it's a good opportunity to promote you to my personal bodyguard. OK? Send the lads as soon as possible. They'll have a bit of restraining to do then watch a bit of entertainment. Grant's going to be taking over your job at the checkpoint. Don't think he'll be happy though. See you later.' He walked back to the house.

'Now you two. Kiss and make up time.  Grant, toast, please. Same as yesterday, please. Theresa, love, coffee? Remember how I like it? Good girl, that's right. Thank you both. Oh, look, we've got visitors. Come in, come in. Meet Grant; he's in a spot of bother; just make sure he doesn't hurt himself. Good. Now Grant, your stepdaughter was trying to tell you what I did to her last night. Theresa, you didn't go into all the details did you? No? Then we'd better demonstrate so he understands.'

He seized the young woman, bent her over the kitchen table and raped her again. This time he made no attempt to stifle her screams. When he had finished he stepped back, still smiling.

'There we are. Actions speak louder than words. Now, Grant, if you want to save her from a spell in a care home, comforting the workers, you'll do exactly as I say. You're a level one Watchman so I've found you another job.  You can take over from Frank at the checkpoint. Young Teresa's learned her lesson and she'll stay here with me. Right, lads, thanks for your help. Make sure Grant gets to his new post safely, and then ask Frank to report to me. Grant can sleep in one of the cells when he's off duty. Right, a good start to the day. Off you go, then. Theresa, another coffee please. You've got work to do.'

That night he took her to his bedroom, stripped her and handcuffed her to the head of the brass bedstead. Seeing the look in her eyes he left the room and hid the key in the case of the clock at the top of the stairs.

'Just in case you have any silly ideas, my lovely. Now, you've had a busy day and perhaps you didn't sleep too well last night, so why don't we just settle down quietly for the night?'

She closed her eyes and tried to suppress her tears.  He slapped her hard, twice, across her face.

'Big girls don't cry; not unless they've got something really to cry about. Don't try to suggest something, an idea will come to me. Oh, look; those glass candlesticks on the dressing table, there, do you see? Perhaps we could play hide and seek with them? Let's have a little rest and when we wake up we'll have playtime. OK? Settle down now, you'll need a nice little sleep.'

He kissed her on the top of her head as if she was a child, brushed the back of his hand across her breast, smiled as she flinched, and switched off the light.

The sound of his phone woke him early next morning.

'Good day, Senior Watchman. I trust everything is well? We're looking after you properly, sir?'

'Good morning, Watchman. Yes, everything's fine. Frank is now my aide and young Theresa is coming along nicely. She'll make an excellent pet in time. She's just got to learn a few things about my routines but I'm sure she'll cope admirably. You've got news for me?'

'Sir, your wife has decided to stay with her parents for the duration. We explained the very serious nature of her father's condition, and that it would be most unwise to leave him to the care of the state. She understands the situation perfectly.'

'Good; just as we hoped. Is Jane doing well too?'

'Oh, excellently, sir. Much better in fact than we first hoped. A most enthusiastic care worker, sir. On her very first day in post she comforted at least five, maybe six, of her colleagues, starting with the Warden. The Warden, in fact, took quite a shine to her and they seem to be spending most of the nights together before she goes off to attend to the needs of his subordinates. A most gratifying outcome, sir.'  Geoff Bibby stroked the bare skin of the girl lying next to him; tenderly caressing her breast then viciously pinched her nipple, smiled when she tried to suppress a scream and failed.

'Good, good. Anything else to report, Watchman? What? Spit it out, boy. What's the matter?'

'Sir, there is a matter I'd appreciate your advice on. It seems, from reports we received from Agent Bakau, that some of the escapees from Camp Harden are arriving in West Africa, but not overland. There's some sort of underground activity helping to...'

'Get on with it? An airline? That's not possible. We closed the Channel Tunnel and flooded it. Can't be that. What then?'

'Sir, by sea. We think, well, I think that somehow small boats are ferrying escapees out to sea and transferring them to waiting shipping. One of our patrol boats found an abandoned life raft off the coast of Anglesey and brought it back to Liverpool. It had been reported stolen from one of the Mersey shrimpers moored at West Bank Dock on the Mersey, at a place called Spike Island. The owners are a couple who keep a guesthouse in Runcorn Old Town. They were granted a licence to fish because they accommodate a lot of our workers when they move from one care home to another. They reported it missing a couple of weeks ago after the last breakout. They've both got sound alibis, sir. A Junior Watchman was staying in their house during the escape period and he reported nothing amiss at all.'

'So, someone stole the liferaft, piloted it down the river and out to sea and none of you noticed? How the hell was it powered? You're not suggesting some ignorant native paddled the bloody thing a hundred miles? This couple, are they reliable? Send a Third Level Watchman to have a chat with them, scare the shit out of them if it seems worth it; no; if they are sound we don't want to lose them. Softly softly then. Get a full report of the circumstances of the theft. Somebody knows something. Might just be a chance theft. Yes, do that and report back to me. I've got a bit of disciplinary work to attend to here. Thanks for the call.'

'I'll get onto it right away, sir. Thank you sir.'

'Right, Theresa. Let me fetch the key and give you a little freedom.' He removed the handcuffs and turned the girl face down on the bed. He knelt, straddling her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She tried to relax; it would hurt less, perhaps, if she relaxed. He moved his hands gently, massaging her shoulder muscles, her back, and her shoulders again. He climbed off her, stood facing the bed.

'Why don't you toddle along to your room, love, and have a nice shower. I'll have mine here and we'll meet for breakfast in, what, half an hour? Right?' She nodded and stumbled out of the room.

She can have the freedom to roam anywhere in the gated community, he thought. That gives her access to the clinic, the shop and the gatehouse. Frank can explain to Grant on the gate that if he allows her to put one foot outside the gate he's dead and so is his step daughter. Right; shower, dress, breakfast then sort out these escapees. Frank can have a chat with the boat owners and warn them about security.