Living in the Shadows (19 page)

The sudden spark of irritation pushed the guilt to one side. ‘I didn’t ask you to. You just took it for granted we’d get married.’

‘Round about the same time you let me in your knickers.’ He sneered. ‘Or do you do that for all the lads? From prick-tease to slut in one easy week.’

That’s it; enough is enough, Linda thought, standing up. She pulled the strap of her bag onto her shoulder, watching a girl approach, carrying a transistor blasting out the Rolling Stones’ ‘Honky Tonk Women’
.
Linda waited until she was sure Martin would hear her next words. ‘I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said.’

Martin picked up some stones and turned to skim one across the lake without speaking. She watched. The water mirrored the sky: gloomy clouds skating across the surface, now rippled by the bouncing stone until it sunk.

He chucked in the last of the stones with a flick of his wrist. One rattled into the first canoe. ‘Don’t bother getting in touch again. Cow.’ He walked away from her before spinning on his heel and almost tripping over a dog. The owner mumbled something at him; Linda couldn’t hear what it was but she heard Martin’s reply. ‘Sod off.’

Then he pointed at her. ‘Oh, and by the way, I’ll have that bracelet back I bought you for your birthday. I should be able to sell it. Get my money back – salvage something from the fiasco I thought was a relationship.’

Linda didn’t answer. He’d get the bracelet back; she’d make sure of that. She blinked hard against the burn in her eyes. What did she expect?

She watched him walk past two girls, walking arm in arm and giggling, looking at him surreptitiously. He cocked his head at them, gave a wolf-whistle. ‘Okay, girls?’ she heard him shout, walking backwards and whistling again.

Linda looked back at the lake. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing she’d seen.

The lake was black; there was no reflection of the sky any more. The first heavy drops of rain splattered on the path.

Chapter 38: Victoria Schormann

The Granville: Saturday, September 27th

Yesterday she’d been allowed to join a group meditation. Candles in each corner of the room cast a golden glow on the images of spider in their webs and different birds – owls, falcons, even sparrows – which covered the walls. One wall was curtained over, a ceiling-to-floor length of purple material. The air was filled with a strange, almost unpleasant, scent.

When she first filed in behind the women Seth was sitting on a chair at the front of the room, his head bowed, his hands folded on his lap. He wore a long white kaftan. Tall cream candles were placed on top of wooden boxes on each side of him. A small table was behind him. On it was a small bowl and a short stump of something that looked like dried grasses.

The meditation had been nothing like the Transcendental Meditation Victoria had tried to learn. Nothing like it at all.

Besides Seth and two of the older men he called the Elders, there were twenty others in the room. After they sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he held out his arms as though encompassing them all. It was as if Victoria had never seen Seth before; she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He seemed unapproachable, powerful in some way. Her scalp prickled. Although she didn’t dare to look around she guessed all the others were mesmerised as well.

At first he spoke in a calm voice. As Victoria concentrated on her breathing she listened to his words.

‘Dear Higher Self, we are here to release past fears and pain. That which no longer helps with our cleansing and purification we discard. Help us to see everything in an enlightened perspective and move forward with wisdom, strength and, above all love.’

Two figures stepped from behind the curtain. Victoria saw they were the girls who’d also been at the Manchester festival and were brought into the commune by Seth and River the week after her. She’d nicknamed them Cow Parsley and Dandelion. She hadn’t liked them from the moment they’d arrived, with their simpering stupid faces and creepy-crawly ways of trying to get in with all the other women. Always offering to cook or clean the dorm, sitting with the girls who made the rag rugs, giggling when they had to be shown – yet again – how to thread the material through. She scowled; she’d no time for them.

Now here they were. Jealousy flooded through Victoria; why were they part of this morning’s session when this was the first time she’d even been allowed to attend?

One of them picked up the small bowl and taking a cloth from it squeezed out water. The other struck a match and held it to the stick of dried grasses until it smouldered. Holding a plate underneath to catch ashes she wafted the smoke over Seth and into the corners of the room before walking around the group doing the same.

Victoria forced a loud cough. Taking in a breath the smoke caught her throat and she swallowed hard to try to stop the irritation. Worse, through the tears streaming down her cheeks she saw the one she called Cow Parsley take Seth’s sandals off, wipe his feet with the cloth before putting them back on. Victoria couldn’t prevent the gasp and began to cough again. This time she couldn’t stop. She heard the disapproving noises from the people around her. Someone behind patted her hard on the back. At first she was grateful, but the action started to get a fraction too hard and she shrugged the hand away.

When she finally stopped choking she looked towards Seth; he’d stood up. She saw the subtle change in his face, the rise of colour in his cheeks the tightening of his lips. When he spoke he fixed his stare on her. She met his eyes; goose bumps raised the hairs on her arms but she wouldn’t let him see how resentful she was.

‘We have cleared all negative energy from the room. Rain…’

Not Dandelion then, Victoria thought. She forced down the nervous laugh.

‘… will open the windows, release old energy and allow fresh air to flow through.’

Seth paced the floor in front of the small crowd, his kaftan softly swishing with each turn, his sandals lightly creaking as he walked. His voice grew louder, melodic. At either side of her the people were swaying in time with his words. She had no option but to move with them.

‘Let us leave behind what no longer serves us and cross over onto a new and illuminated path.’ He stopped in front of Victoria. ‘Leave behind material things, the evil of worldly wealth, those who damage us with their presence.’ He lowered his hand to touch the top of her head. ‘Stand, Summer.’

She felt she had no option. But he kept his hand on her head so she had no choice but to lower it so that her chin was on her chest.

‘We expect complete, exclusive devotion – not merely a partial, lukewarm, half-hearted following. We expect reverence.’

Who is he talking about? Who’s ‘We?’ Victoria thought, conscious of the heat of his hand on her scalp, his fingertips pressing in.

‘We expect devotion. It is our right. We are worthy of nothing less.’

Victoria listened in disbelief, unable to keep the shock hidden when he lifted her chin for her to look at him.

He smiled.

Uncomfortable, she rubbed at her upper arms and glanced down towards the girl next to her. She was staring back. For a few seconds Victoria thought to leave. To walk out. She must have made some movement because there was a slight tug on the back of her skirt, stopping her. The two Elders stood in front of the door. It was then that Victoria realised the meeting had been held for her. She was trapped. And, for the first time in her life, frightened.

Seth gave a small murmur of satisfaction and moved away to sit back on the chair. All around her people stood up. Others threw themselves forward on the floor in front of him, weeping and crying out to be saved. Saved from what, she’d thought? By who? Seth? She didn’t know how long she stood there but it was long enough for her to stop being scared and to become angry. And long enough for her to decide she wouldn’t be going to another of Seth’s so-called sermons.

In the middle of the night he’d slipped into her narrow bed. Naked. Pulling at her baby-doll pyjamas he’d whispered, ‘Come on, then, shove up.’

Victoria moved to the edge without speaking. The anger bubbled in her again.

‘Still sulking?’ he laughed, softly. ‘You should’ve seen your face.’

When she didn’t answer he slid his hand under her top, slowly moved his palm over her nipple. She arched her back, unable to stop the instinctive tightening between her thighs.

‘See, you’re not really cross with me.’ He laughed again.

Cross? Victoria thought, twisting towards him, trying to see his face in the darkness and failing. ‘What the hell was all that, this morning?’ she said.

Without speaking he eased her out of her pyjamas, ran his fingers along her stomach. She caught her breath.

‘You didn’t believe all that, did you?’ he murmured, his tongue tracing the inside of her ear. ‘It’s what they wanted.’

‘What they wanted? Come off it.’ Incredulous, Victoria pushed him away. ‘That was just weird.’ The tears smarted. ‘And you were cruel. You just wanted to make me look stupid.’

‘You have to learn to fit in. Some of the others don’t think you’re pulling your weight. I had to do it.’ All the time he was sliding his fingers inside her.’ I want you to stay. You’re special to me. I need you by my side. I need you with me.’

Victoria’s breath was shallow. She knew she was giving in to him. ‘I thought we would be together.’ She spoke in a small voice.

‘And we will be.’ He moved even closer, whispering. ‘This lot, they chose to call me the Master. I just play the game. You and me – well, we’re different, aren’t we. We know the score. There are a few of the others…’ She stiffened, he must have felt it. ‘But not like us, huh? You and me, we’re special. Right?’

He slid on top of her, entered her.

After he’d left her bed Victoria hugged herself. She knew he was right. They were special. Sod the rest of them. She was Seth’s girlfriend. Woman, she corrected herself. So what if she wasn’t accepted into the group? She’d been on the outside all her life. But she’d make sure some of them liked her. She’d play the game as well.

She refused to listen to the small voice that reminded her she’d left home to find somewhere where she truly belonged. And the reality of it was, it wasn’t here.

Chapter 39: William Booth

Ashford, evening: Sunday, September 28th

‘Think that’s the lot, sweetheart.’ William swung Tim up into his arms and gathered him into a hug with Susan. ‘I’ll be back around seven to put this young man to bed and get settled in.’

He stopped, seeing the apprehensive expression on her face and put the little boy down. They watched him climb onto the settee with two of his lead soldiers, tapping them on the cushions in a make-believe march.

‘You are sure about this, Susan? I mean, it’s not too late to go back to how we were.’

‘No, it’s absolutely fine.’

He tipped his head to one side. ‘Fine?’ he questioned, grinning.

‘Okay, wonderful then. I’ve written to Charlie at his mother’s and told him it’s over for good. I’ve been telling him for the last twelve months, he just wouldn’t listen. At least he’s not been near the house this leave, not even to see…’ she motioned her head towards her son. ‘So perhaps he’s finally got the message after—’

‘He got handy with his fists. I remember.’ William clenched his own at the memory. ‘You should have sent for me. Let me come round. I mean, he’d have got the message quicker then.’

‘I don’t want him, you, either of you, hurt. You know I don’t like violence around Tim.’

‘Yes, of course. Sorry, sweetheart. It just makes me mad.’

‘I know. Now,’ Susan gave him a wide smile and picked up her son, ‘you’d better go home and break the news to your mum and dad.’

‘You mean go to Henshaw Street and tell them.’ William grinned again. ‘This is my home now, isn’t it, young man?’ He tickled Tim. The little boy squealed and leant away from his mother to give William a tight hug around his neck.

‘Good grief, that’s a squeeze and a half you’ve got there, little un,’ William laughed. His face grew serious as he turned to Susan. ‘I’ll be back in an hour.’

‘Good luck.’

‘I don’t need luck. I’m my own man, haven’t you learned that yet?’ He put his thumb up to Tim. ‘See you soon.’

‘Soon.’ The little boy put both thumbs up.

Outside William sat astride his bike and looked at the small terrace where his future lay. He wouldn’t let any harm come to the woman and child who lived there. His jaw tensed at the memory of the battering she’d taken. The only time he felt he’d let them down.

Chapter 40: Nelly Shuttleworth

Ashford, afternoon: Sunday, September 28th

‘Why are you ’ere?’ Nelly settled back in the armchair and took a bite of the bacon butty she’d just made. A blob of tomato sauce, squashed out from between the two slices of bread, dropped onto her thumb and finger. She sucked at it. She was on her own territory and had no need to feel less than the woman sitting at the table in front of her. That’s not to say it hadn’t been a shock, five minutes earlier, to see Ellen Booth standing on her doorstep. And she could tell from the way the woman looked – as if she had a bad smell under her nose – that she was judging her and her house. As if she had any right.

‘Linda’s taken a week’s holiday and caught a train to Wales with Richard.’

‘She said she might.’

‘I thought Martin might go with her but when I asked if he was she didn’t answer. Something’s happened between them, I think.’ She stopped as though Nelly might enlighten her but after a moment added, ‘I don’t know what’s happened about Martin …’

Nelly clamped her mouth closed, wiggling her teeth with her tongue to get a bit of bacon from under them. She’d only just managed to put them in when the doorbell rang and they were rubbing her gums. But she was damned if she’d take them out in front of this snooty bitch.

‘Something has.’ Ellen paused.

‘Has what?’ Nelly was careful how she spoke, for some reason she‘d always tried to speak proper in front of this woman. She’d long since stopped hating her. Now she just disliked her intensely and hoped she wouldn’t have to see her too often.