Dominion (61 page)

‘Unless we kick out the Germans, eh?’

Geoff smiled weakly. Sarah must feel the same, David thought, about her family. It was all right for him, he just had his father now and he was safe in New Zealand. He might even go and join
him.

Downstairs they found Ben and Natalia already eating breakfast, Eileen bustling round with plates. A radio in the kitchen played
Housewives’ Choice
. Sean was
pulling on a pair of hobnailed boots. ‘Bacon and eggs?’ Eileen asked David. She looked at Geoff. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘A bit groggy.’

‘I’ll get some headache pills. I’m afraid this pea-souper looks set to go on all day, according to the radio, maybe longer. They’re worried about the Smithfield cattle
show; some of the animals are getting ill. Filthy stuff. Here now, sit down.’

As they sat David met Natalia’s eye. She smiled sadly, half conspiratorially. She had washed her hair; it was brown and lustrous. David saw that Geoff had caught the look between him and
Natalia, and quickly glanced away. ‘Where’s Frank?’ he asked Ben.

‘He’s no’ feeling too good either. I’m going to take his breakfast up in a minute.’

Sean stood. ‘I’m off to work. Back about six.’ He nodded at his guests, then kissed Eileen tenderly on the brow. ‘You be careful, you hear? Keep everyone safe.’

‘Get off now.’ She touched his cheek briefly, then hurried back out to the kitchen. The front door shut behind Sean. ‘Frank thinks Sean’s got it in for him,’ Ben
said quietly. ‘That’s why he wanted to stay upstairs.’

‘People are afraid of mental illness.’ Natalia shook her head. ‘Frank could see it in Mr O’Shea.’

David said, ‘I’ll take him up his breakfast. Has he had his pill?’

‘I gave it him when he got up.’

‘He is addicted to those pills, isn’t he?’ Natalia said.

‘No,’ Ben answered. ‘He isnae. They’re no’ addictive, but people get used tae feelin’ calmer with them, so ye have to take them off them gradually.
We’ll wean him off them when we’re safe.’ Ben looked at her seriously. ‘But for now he needs to be kept quiet, not just for his safety but ours, too.’

David took a tray upstairs. Frank was sitting on the bed, wearing one of Colonel Brock’s old cardigans, staring out at the fog. A single-bar electric fire took the edge off the cold. He
gave David a sad little smile, quite different from that horrible rictus grin.

‘I brought you up some breakfast. Hungry?’

‘Yes. I could do with something.’

‘Ben said you didn’t want to come downstairs.’

‘No. That Mr O’Shea . . .’ He shrugged wearily.

‘Sean’s all right. It’s just a worry for him, having us here.’ David put the tray on the bed.

Frank gave a long, despairing sigh. ‘He sees.’

‘Sees what, Frank?’

‘I’ve always felt I was under some sort of curse.’ Frank spoke so low David had to bend to hear. ‘There’s something in me – I don’t even know what
–’ he waved his bad hand in a helpless gesture – ‘that makes people want to hurt me. It’s always been like that.’ He looked at David and gave one of his harsh
little laughs. ‘You think it’s my madness talking, I can see.’

‘Frank, some people are just, well, afraid of people who’ve been – where you have. And you’re not mad,’ he added firmly.

‘No, it’s always been the same.’ Frank shook his head decisively. ‘Since I was a little boy, before I went away to school. Mother had her life controlled by this fake
spiritualist, Mrs Baker. She got me sent to that school. I dreamed about her last night, she was sitting in a garden. There were angels in the sky, I suppose it was heaven. She was drinking whisky
from a bottle and laughing at me.’

David touched him on the arm. ‘Eat your breakfast, eh? It’s getting cold.’

Obediently Frank took the tray on his knees and began to eat. Despite not having full use of his right hand he could use his fork dexterously. Experience, David supposed. When he had finished
Frank said abruptly, ‘Did you notice it when you met me?’

‘What? Your hand?’

‘No. Everyone notices that. I mean this thing about me, this – aura. My mother used to talk a lot about auras.’

‘No, Frank. I just thought you were – afraid. I thought maybe because of that school; you didn’t say much about it but it sounded bad.’

‘It was.’ Frank looked out of the window at the fog again. ‘But most people survived it. I just couldn’t, somehow.’ He shook his head. ‘Unless you were
exactly like them and did what they wanted – well, they’d do anything to you. They were like the Nazis in lots of ways. You know,’ he added, ‘I always had a feeling my life
would end with something really bad, it was bound to somehow.’ He glanced at David and said, curiously, ‘You remember yesterday, in that field, I said I’d always wanted to be
normal and you said you’d always felt the same. Why? You’re not like me, you’re the opposite of me. People respect you, they like you. They always have.’

‘Do they?’ David shifted uneasily. ‘They expect things. Since I was a kid, everyone expected something special. I had advantages, you’re right, but I always felt I
couldn’t be just normal, any more than you.’ He remembered school, diving into the swimming pool. Down into silence, peace. ‘Anyway, I brought all this on myself. I went into the
Resistance, deceived my wife, everyone I worked with, because—’

‘Why?’

‘Because underneath it all I was so angry. I think I always have been.’ He turned to his old friend. ‘You must be too, Frank. You must be angry?’

Frank shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. But what’s the point of being angry with your fate?’ His voice sank to a whisper. ‘Frightened, yes, because you can’t
change fate, you can’t do anything.’

‘You pushed your brother out of that window.’

‘That was an accident. But yes, he made me lose control. I have to keep control.’ Frank spoke with a sudden emphasis. ‘If I hadn’t, they’d have got it all out of me
at the hospital. You – have – to – keep – control,’ he repeated, slowly, fiercely. ‘I learned that at school.’

‘Easy, Frank, easy. No-one’s threatening you here. Not Mr O’Shea, not any of us.’

‘All right.’

‘That took some guts, not spilling what your brother told you when you were alone in that hospital, or to the police.’

‘I shouldn’t have told you. That it was about the Bomb. I’m sorry, but it’s a – it’s a big thing to bear.’ He looked at David with sudden sharpness.
‘You haven’t told anybody?’

‘I promised you I wouldn’t.’

‘In the field, you see – I thought if you knew how important it was, you’d realize I had to die.’

‘You don’t. We’ll get you out. And you made a promise too, remember. To stay alive.’

‘I know.’ There was silence for a few moments, then Frank said, ‘What will it be like, in America? I’ve met a few Americans, they always seem so noisy. Then there’s
all the gangsters in the films. But it’s a big country, isn’t it; maybe I could find somewhere quiet. Do you think I could, David?’

‘I hope so.’

‘Where would you go? You and your wife?’

‘I don’t know about Sarah, but I’d like to go to New Zealand. It’s a good place. They’re decent people, they hate this Fascist shit.’

Frank looked puzzled. ‘You’d go together, surely?’

‘I don’t know.’

Frank said quietly, ‘We’re not going to get there, you know, David. It’s only a dream. They’ll get me still.’

‘No, they won’t. Come on, Frank, we’ve got this far. We have to be positive.’

Frank picked at a loose thread on his mattress. ‘You said you had cyanide pills, if the Germans came. That Natalia would shoot me to stop them taking me. But what if you didn’t get
the chance? David, I want a cyanide pill as well. I won’t take it unless they come, I promise, but I – I want the same chance as the rest of you.’

David looked at him. Natalia and Ben would never take the risk of Frank trying to kill himself again. The Americans wanted him alive; though Ben and Natalia had also become protective of him,
wanted him to live. ‘I’ll talk to them,’ he said.

Frank nodded. But from his expression he knew it wasn’t going to happen, David saw. That uncanny sensitivity of his, he thought, the sensitivity of an endangered animal.

After breakfast Ben persuaded Frank to come downstairs. Eileen had gone out to the shops, and to meet her Resistance contact. They sat in the lounge: Geoff still looked ill; he
coughed frequently, a dry, hacking sound. Ben suggested a board game; Eileen had said there were some to be found next door. David went to fetch them. He switched on the light – the fog made
everything so dim. The room had the faintly damp smell of a little-used ‘best parlour’. There was a cardboard box of games under the table, chess and draughts and Monopoly.

For a couple of hours they sat round playing Monopoly, like some strange family party. Frank turned out to be an easy winner, piling up a heap of paper money beside him. Ben said jokingly,
‘You’re a Monopoly capitalist, Frank, that’s what you are. Ye’ve taken all my money, I’ve nothin’ left.’

Frank looked pleased. ‘I just try to think ahead, that’s all.’

Ben shook his head. ‘I played a bit when I was inside, I wisnae bad but you’re a bloody genius, mate.’

‘Why were you in prison?’ Geoff asked. ‘Was it for political reasons?’

Ben looked at him intently. ‘No, I wis a naughty boy at school, did some bad things. The Glasgow magistrates thought they were bad anyway. Got two years in a Borstal when I was seventeen,
and a good dose of the birch.’ David remembered the scars he had seen on Ben last night. ‘Put an end tae a promising career, that did. Parents disowned me, the auld bastards. Though it
was being inside taught me about politics, people in there gave me a proper education about the class system. So I don’t regret it.’

David smiled ruefully. ‘Everything’s class with you, isn’t it?’

‘Aye, it is. I’ve seen you once or twice, ye don’t always follow what I’m sayin’, do ye, with ma accent?’

‘You put it on sometimes.’

‘Where ah wis brought up, ye’d no’ve understood a word.’

‘That’s because you’ve a Scottish accent.’

‘No.’ Ben looked at him intently. ‘It’s because I’m
working-class
Scottish.’

Frank said, ‘He’s right. My school was in Scotland, but I understood the accents all right.’

‘Because they spoke middle-class Scots, that’s why.
Morrrningsiide
.’ Ben drew out the name in a way that made Frank do something David could barely ever remember him
doing. He laughed.

‘It’s class that’s the real divide, not nationality,’ Ben said finally. He nudged Frank. ‘Come on, Rockefeller, David’s still got a few houses
left.’

They moved on to chess. David played Frank as he had promised, the others watching while Geoff went upstairs to lie down. Frank had just won his second game when, in the middle
of the afternoon, Sean returned. ‘They’ve sent me home,’ he said. ‘There’s problems all round London, freight’s not moving. Drivers can’t see the bloody
signals. Everything all right here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Eileen back?’

‘Not yet,’ Natalia said. Sean bit his lip.

‘It’ll be the fog, don’t worry,’ she reassured him.

Sean turned to Frank with a smile. ‘How are you, feller? Listen, I’m sorry I was a bit rude last night. It’s the strain, y’see?’

Frank smiled uncertainly. ‘It’s all right.’

‘Mates, eh?’ Sean stretched out a hand, and Frank took it. David wondered if Eileen had told him off. Sean looked round the table. ‘Where’s the fair-haired
feller?’

‘He went upstairs for a rest,’ David said. ‘He’s feeling poorly. I think it’s the fog.’

‘It’s a bugger. One of my workmates is asthmatic, they had to take him to hospital this afternoon. Hope they manage to get him there, traffic’s hardly moving. If they were
planning to move the Jews today, that’s definitely off.’ He sighed. ‘I’m going to make a sandwich.’ He went out to the kitchen. David cleared the table and took
everything back to the front room. He switched on the light and put the box back under the table. As he stood up he saw someone standing outside the window, a little white face looking in at him.
He stood stock still for a second, then stepped forward. He glimpsed a cap and child’s raincoat as the figure darted away into the murk. He went quickly back to the living room.

‘What’s the matter?’ Natalia asked sharply.

‘There was a little boy, standing in the front garden, looking in. It might have been the one from two doors down.’

‘Shit,’ Ben said, half rising. Sean came out of the kitchen and ran to the front door, throwing it open. A minute later he came back, breathing hard.

‘I heard the door slam at Number 38. That little fucker, he’s always nosing round, he watches the TV programmes telling people to keep an eye out for terrorists.’

Natalia said, ‘He has only seen David, and he saw him yesterday.’

Sean frowned. ‘He’ll tell his dad the man with a posh accent is staying here now.’ He sat down, chewing anxiously on his knuckles. ‘I don’t bloody know. We’ll
have to see what Eileen says.’

She returned half an hour later, weighed down with shopping bags. ‘What weather,’ she said. ‘The bus was so slow. The smog’s leaving black grease on
everything, you should see the steps.’ Eileen looked round them, her face suddenly tense. ‘Has something happened?’

Sean told her about David seeing the little boy. ‘Ah, that’s bad luck. And I didn’t see his mother at the shops, I thought she’d be there. But young Philip’s always
peeping into people’s houses, playing at spies and terrorists like all the little boys.’ She looked at Natalia. ‘What do you think?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know these people.’

‘We’ve had him looking in the window before when we’ve had visitors. He’s a lonely wee lad. Used to play with our two till his parents stopped him last year. I think
it’s all right. He hasn’t seen any of the rest of you?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll have to try and get an excuse to speak to his mother, tell her you’re some sort of relation.’

‘With that accent?’ Sean said.

David reddened. ‘I only said a few words.’

‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now,’ Eileen said.

‘Go and see her,’ Sean urged.