Outside (30 page)

Chapter Forty Six

Riley

*

Luc’s waiting for me down at Coy Pond. Pa told him I’d be back this afternoon. Only four days have passed since I last saw him back at the Chippenham Compound, but it may as well be four years, what with everything that’s happened.

I now realise that I may never find out who killed my sister. That Luc and I were chasing a lie. A dead end. Someone out there knows who did it, but I will probably never know the truth. I’ll have to learn to accept that.

It’s a crisp autumn morning and the colours are bright and heavy – dying leaves against a deep blue sky. The sun’s power has diminished, like it’s here but wants to leave.

I’m nearly at Coy Pond and I’m nervous. Will Luc still feel the same way about me? Will it be okay? Or will things be awkward and weird? I’ve had too much sadness and anger and uncertainty in my life recently. I need something good. I need to see if I can be kind to myself.

I walk down the crumbling stone steps and crunch my way along the gravel path. After only a few seconds, I see a figure up ahead – Luc. He’s sitting on a mossy wooden bench, wearing jeans and that grey hoodie he looks so good in. My heart lifts and flips. As I draw closer, he glances up and grins, getting to his feet, and I forget my earlier doubts. I know instantly that everything’s going to be alright.

I smile as we walk towards each other. My heart is pounding. After everything that’s happened, at least I still have this … I have Luc.

‘Hey,’ he says.

‘Hey.’

Somewhere close by a blackbird sings. Luc takes my hand and as we walk along the gravel path together I feel the faint sparks of hope.

* * * * *

Epilogue

*

He was in his early thirties, but had the look of someone far older. His clothes were dirty and worn, his once fair hair was thick and darkly matted and he was limping quite badly. Holding onto his left shoulder as he hobbled along, you could clearly see the overgrown, filthy nails on his right hand, the back of which was a mass of scratches.

But more distressing than his overall appearance, was the fact he was a grown man sobbing out loud in unashamed misery. Snot and tears collected in a wretched glob on the side of his chin and he angrily wiped his grimy sleeve across his face, adding a clump of black dirt and grit to the mixture.
How did I get here?
Jamie asked himself.
Once upon a time I was happy, loved, on top of the world and now here I am, starving, aching and bloody miserable. Nobody even knows I exist.

He had been on his way to the compound in Boscombe. The girl at the Poole Shanty had told him about it.

‘They’re looking for cheap
labour,’ she’d said,
‘and they’re taking on outsiders.’

The girl was gorgeous in a short-haired pseudo-soldier sort of way. He didn
’
t think she
’
d be living on the outside for long. About nineteen years old he reckoned and not yet worn down by the grinding harshness of life on the outside. Feisty and tough - he knew it was a necessary armour and he also knew through all that spikiness, she liked him.

This was just the spark he needed to gee him up a bit. Most people he came across were truly horrible and it was a relief to have a bit of a laugh, pretend things weren’t as bleak as they actually were.

He’d tried to act disinterested, but all the time, he was contriving to meet up with her accidentally on purpose at the Boscombe Compound, which was where she was now headed with her pig-ugly friends. To avoid appearing too keen, he watched her leave the shanty, waited a day and then left to make his own way there.

Then that stupid rich bitch had smacked into him with her AV. She
’
d looked at him in the wing mirror and he
’
d instantly known she wouldn
’
t give him a second thought -
would never stop for a nobody like me
. He supposed he should be grateful she didn
’
t have shock plates, but she
’
d really banged up his leg and his shoulder didn
’
t feel too good either.

How was he supposed to make it to Boscombe now? He
’
d never catch up with the girl again either. She’d said she was going to
see what
Boscombe had to offer and then she thought she might head up to London.

Yeah right
, he
’
d thought, but had been strangely buoyed up by her optimism. Okay, well more buoyed up by her tongue ring and what she
’
d said she could do with it. And now that opportunity was gone and he was injured badly and why couldn
’
t anything ever just go right for him just once? More tears escaped.
I
’
m just a low-life, no-hoper,
snivelling
loser
, he raged silently to himself.

To rub salt in the wound, he was currently limping outside one of Bournemouth
’
s most prestigious areas, The Talbot Woods Perimeter. He took care not to get spotted by the guards who patrolled the inner fences. There was no way for him to get inside anyway so they
’
d probably just ignore him, but he couldn
’
t face any sort of confrontation tonight.

Through the humming electrified wire, Jamie glimpsed the mansions that sat grandly in gardens landscaped to the max. Each one had its own distinctive style and its own fancy security system, no doubt.

‘
Tossers!
’
he shouted ineffectually. It was more of a strangled sob and it kick-started a bout of coughing.
God, I
’
d kill for a well-brewed beer
, he thought.

It was a warm evening and he sweated slightly in his filthy sludge
-coloured
T shirt. He’d tied his grubby stained jacket around his waist and his feet sweltered in worn out leather boots. He wished he had sandals, but these boots were the only pair of footwear he owned, and they were ready for the scrap heap.

It was getting dark now and he realised he
’
d have to find somewhere to sleep soon. He didn
’
t allow himself to gaze in at the lighted windows with their scenes of rich domesticity. He used to lose himself in fantasies of this nature, but it was way too painful and completely pointless; he was no masochist.

Jamie was hungry, starving in fact. Then he remembered the homemade berry bar the old lady had given him yesterday at the shanty. She said he reminded her of her dead son (morbid old cow) but that he looked like he could do with a decent meal. Predictably, she invited him to eat lunch with her family and he accepted immediately. This was nothing new; he often aroused motherly instincts in women. It was a natural gift, like having a good singing voice or being a good kisser.

The food she’d prepared had been bloody awful, but it had filled a hole. The only thing on the menu that tasted any good was her berry cake, which he had raved about, in the hope she would give him some more. When he had said his goodbyes, she slipped a wrapped berry bar into his jacket pocket and told him to take good care of himself. Now, when he reached into his pocket for the bar, it wasn’t there.

‘What?’ He had been saving it. Building himself up to enjoying its moist oaty sweetness. Now finding it gone was just another kick in the teeth. He checked his other pockets.
Maybe I put it in my bundle
, he thought, knowing full well he hadn’t, but deciding to check anyway. He untied the piece of thin canvas material he used to carry around his few possessions. Every day, he meticulously checked it for holes as he’d lost items before, where some creature had nibbled through the material. He spread it out on the uneven dried earth and sifted through his belongings, but the bar wasn’t there either.

It was in my pocket, I know it was
. This was rapidly turning into a disastrous night. Then, it dawned on him he had probably lost it when the AV had knocked him flying. He wasn’t too far from where it happened and so he decided to turn back and search for it. If he didn’t, he knew he would end up dreaming about the damn thing.

He limped back with his eyes glued to the ground. It was almost dark now and he cursed the woman who had knocked him down. Finally, he saw the
tyre
marks, not far from the Perimeter gates, where the vehicle had skidded to a halt earlier this evening.

‘Right, where are you?’ He scanned the track and the surrounding area, where he thought he had been thrown, but he couldn’t find it. It could have gone flying in any direction. He combed the area, straining his eyes, but the bar had been wrapped in a large green leaf, tied with twine and, if it wasn’t out in the open, it would be nicely camouflaged in its leafy surroundings.

He pulled back a small bush, crossly, not expecting to find what he was looking for, when suddenly, he spied it lying in a clump of weeds, right by the fence.

‘Yes!’ He laughed out loud, feeling ridiculously happy at this small triumph. Then he frowned, as he noticed a gaping hole in the electric fence, right next to his berry bar. He snatched up the bar and put it back into his pocket, ensuring he buttoned it closed this time. Then he examined the hole. It was definitely large enough for a person to climb through, as long as they were careful not to touch the electrified sides. Should he? Shouldn’t he?

*

Fourteen year old Skye lived next door to the gorgeous Luc Donovan. She thought his house was the nicest on the Perimeter. During the last few weeks, she’d occasionally snuck out of her house late at night, to meet up for a laugh.

He always started off a bit annoyed, but he never told her to go home straight away. He’d have a game of cards with her or a swim, before saying her Pa would kill him if she kept coming over at night without permission. She more or less ignored his protests and just laughed at him, calling him a chicken and a wimp, although this was miles away from what she really thought.

She had decided to meet him again tonight, and this time she’d make it crystal clear what she really felt about him. He’d have to be blind not to realise anyway, she’d dropped enough hints for God’s sake.

Pa had been out working on Hook Island all night and had gone to bed, tired out, at about one thirty. Ma was next door at Uncle Tom’s and she must’ve crashed there for the night. Riley had gone to bed a couple of hours ago and she always slept like the dead.

Skye had her own rooms in the warren-like attic on the second floor and she loved the higgledy piggledyness of them. She’d also started to appreciate the bonus of having her own separate staircase which led almost directly to the back door. The only thing she had to be careful of was Woolly making too much noise. She knew he wouldn
’
t bark at her arrival, but his claws made an awful clattering racket on the old wooden floors as he twirled around and around in a mad frenzy of greeting.

Luc was delicious - seventeen, dark haired and popular in an
‘
I don
’
t care
’
sort of way. Even her parents loved him. Both sets of parents were really buddy-buddy and they were always going on group family picnics together or visiting each other’s
’
houses for barbeques, parties, Christmas drinks and stuff.

However, Skye knew their parents would go ballistic if she and Luc started seeing each other, not least because Skye was only fourteen. It was great though, because if Riley was busy, Pa would ask Luc to accompany her places. He’d say,
‘
I know I can rely on Luc to look after you.’ She always pretended to be annoyed and demand to be allowed out of the house on her own, knowing full well, permission would never be granted.

Skye knew Luc had a bit of a thing for Riley, but he hadn
’
t a hope of getting anywhere with her as she always set her sights on older, harder to obtain boyfriends. Skye thought she was mad. Luc was the fittest bloke in the Perimeter, if not the whole of the country.

*

Jamie chewed his lip as he studied the hole. He’d get drafted, beaten up or shot if he got caught, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up. It was fate. What treasures might he find on the other side? At the very least, he might find some more food, or a comfortable place to sleep. That decided him. He would sleep in relative safety tonight, away from the scavs and muggers and he would still set off for Boscombe in the morning.

He took off his coat and put it and his bundle through the hole first. Then he made himself as small as possible and squeezed his way nervously through, ignoring the sharp pain in his injured shoulder and tensing his body, fearful of getting a shock from the fence.