Vengeance Child (9 page)

‘Point taken. It's just that when Archer collapsed I thought he was dying.'

‘A typical Archer response. He saw his father murdered. If things get too much for him, even if it's a violent cartoon on television, he just shuts down.' She smiled. ‘OK, I know what that look you're giving me means. I will talk to Archer, but it will be softly-softly, you follow? A word here, a hint there.'

Victor acquiesced with a nod. ‘Though I don't think you need to look far. From the way the children are avoiding Jay it would be my guess he's what frightened Archer.'

A breeze from the river blew Laura's hair out in rippling strands. ‘Ah, Jay. Of all those we've seen at Badsworth Lodge he is unique. We've had troublemakers of course. A while ago we had an episode that we refer to as the Green Dragon Winter. Children were terrified. They said a green dragon lived under the floorboards. What's more, they claimed they were shrinking in size and were frightened that they'd fall through the gaps in the boards to be eaten.'

‘Now that is surreal. But Jay?'

‘No, nothing to do with Jay. The green dragon frenzy took place before Jay arrived. It took us a month to discover that a fifteen-year-old was spiking meals with LSD. The kids were tripping on acid. Now that kind of trouble we can understand – eventually. Yet with Jay he doesn't really do anything. Normally, he's just so passive.'

‘He tells the children things,' Victor said. ‘He gets under their skin.'

‘And Jay is our responsibility. He's been through all the care homes. Frankly, we're his last hope. After us, there's nowhere else for him to go.'

‘But he's clearly freaking the others out.'

‘So what do you suggest?' Laura's eyes flashed with anger. ‘That we tie a rock round his neck and chuck him in the river?'

Victor met her glare. ‘You know I'm not suggesting that. But it's clear the other children are frightened of him.'

‘Like I'm frightened of him?' She fixed him with those bright, defiant eyes. ‘Like you're frightened of him?'

‘I'm not frightened. I'm—'

‘He knew about Ghorlan.'

‘Not frightened, though I'll admit to a burning curiosity.' Victor felt a creeping unease. ‘I'm going to break my own rule about not asking questions. What is it with Jay? What's he done?'

‘He's done nothing.'

‘Oh?'

‘No, it's what the world did to him.'

‘You've lost me.'

Laura's expression was grim. ‘Do you remember, about seven years ago, a news story about a ship called the
N'Taal
?'

‘The
N'Taal
? That's an unusual name. I'm sure it rings a bell.'

‘It ought to,' she told him. ‘There'd been religious persecution of a minority faith in West Africa. After a church had been burned with dozens of the congregation still inside there'd been an exodus of refugees. There's the usual conspiracy theories. The main one being that the government of this country wanted rid of this tribal group so they provided the ship. Of course, it was a tub of rust that barely floated.'

‘I remember something about a shipwreck, that's all.'

‘There's more to it than that. The
N'Taal
, with almost four hundred refugees on board, sailed round the northern hemisphere for weeks. At every country where they sought refuge they were turned away. Nobody wanted to help. All these developed nations insisted they'd exceeded their quota for refugees for that particular year, so this sorry spectacle continued. The ship tried to enter port after port. Each time they were denied access. In increasingly desperate straits the freighter with this human cargo struggled across the Atlantic. There was a storm, the ship sank . . .'

‘And they all died,' Victor added in a quiet voice.

‘All but one.'

‘Jay?' Astonished, he glanced at the boy in the farmyard; he stood alone as any marooned sailor on a desert island. He radiated solitude.

Laura nodded. ‘The story ran for weeks. Remember the Miracle Moses Boy? Found in an inflatable raft a week after the ship sank. He was just four years old.' She gave one of those little shrugs that seemed to convey so much. ‘Nobody has been able to identify him. He was named Jay by the captain of the ship which rescued him. His age is just guesswork. He's mixed race. He didn't speak at all until he began speaking English, which he picked up from his carers.'

‘So he's a mystery?'

‘And we keep his presence at Badsworth Lodge a secret. The press are eager to know what he's doing now. If they found out the kind of trouble that surrounds him the media would besiege the house. The damage to Jay and the other children doesn't bear thinking about.'

Victor said, ‘I won't breathe a word. You can trust me.'

She looked him in the eye. ‘Yes, I believe I can. Now, if you'll excuse me.'

‘Wait there's more, isn't there?'

‘We can leave that for later.' She gave a tired smile. ‘I'll see you at eight.'

With that she walked back to the farm where Lou was gathering the children together.

Eleven

‘The pub's a no-go.' Victor Brodman met Laura with those words in the village street. The church clock chimed eight. Across the span of the river its waters blazed the colour of gold as the sun sank toward the horizon.

Laura was taken aback. ‘The islanders haven't turned against us already, have they?'

‘No, but Mayor Wilkes has commandeered it for one of his planning meetings. The public are barred until nine.'

‘Oh, well, a pleasant evening for a walk. That is, if you want to walk with me?'

‘What is it about your line of work that makes you so touchy?'

Her demeanour cooled. ‘It's not working out, is it?'

Victor sighed. ‘Why do you try so hard to take offence to everything I say?'

She marched away, down the path that led to the jetty.

Victor walked alongside her.

‘You still here?' she asked.

‘You'll be annoyed at me saying this again. But I see fear.'

‘You see fear? That's up to you.'

‘Not just fear for your own safety, fear that the children you devote yourself to protecting might be harmed.'

Laura stopped at the river's edge. ‘Damn right I'm scared. Listen, we've been through hell at the home. I thought we'd leave all the crap behind when we came here. We haven't. It's getting worse. The kids are jumpy. They're getting ready to explode. And we can't do a thing about it.'

‘There's nobody you can call?'

‘We're the behavioural emergency team. We are the ones that other people call when they have children who are psychologically self-destructing.'

‘Jay?'

Tight-lipped, she nodded. ‘OK, I'll tell you this, Victor. Because if I don't I'm going to end up jumping in that river. Right now doing something crazy is preferable to doing nothing.'

Victor began with, ‘What you need is—'

‘What I need is to get this off my chest! Only I don't know you, Victor.' She searched his face, as if hoping to find some clue there to his character. ‘Lou adores you. You care for the island's wildlife, so you might rank alongside St Francis of Assisi. So I'm going to tell you the truth. After that, you might never speak to me again. The bottom line about Jay is this. He isn't a mere boy. He's an instrument of a force . . . a power . . . I don't know what exactly. No, please, Victor, hear me out. Listen. Every so often Jay withdraws into himself. It's like he goes to another place mentally. When he comes back he repeats the name of someone he knows. Then that person suffers an accident – an injury, or even death. This happened to one of our staff. He repeated Maureen's name over and over. A few hours later she was killed by a bus. The other children believe Jay is a witch. Even though my team try to rationalize what's happening, we all believe, deep down, that he's . . . well . . . he can inflict a curse, for the want of a better word. When he goes into that state and repeats a name it's as if he attaches bad luck to that individual.' A gull cried out to the dying sun. ‘OK, slap me. Tell me to stop being hysterical.'

‘Remember, he told me about Ghorlan. How does a child I've never met before know that my wife disappeared into that?' He nodded at the river as its colour morphed from gold to blood red.

‘Victor, one of the reasons I've been a bitch is that I want you to keep your distance. I don't want Jay to say your name.' Shivering, she folded her arms. ‘Oh, God . . . it's not as if Jay is a bad child. He's not got a spiteful bone in his body. He's sensitive, he cares about people. He hates to see them suffer. That's why he offers to take people on one of his little walks.' She injected the words ‘his little walks' with an unsettling timbre. ‘He took Maureen on one of his little walks before she died. He told me he did it to make her happy one last time.' A shudder ran through her.

‘You're cold,' he told her.

‘Colder than you can believe. All this about Jay . . . it's a burden I'm carrying, Victor. For the first time in my life I can't find a solution to a problem. There've been times when I picture myself standing by Jay's bed at night with a pillow in my hands.' Then she whirled round with such savage speed he thought she'd do something reckless. In a way, she did. She threw herself at him. Then kissed him hard. Gulls cried out across the mighty Severn, yet she didn't take her mouth from his.

How it happened, Archer wasn't sure. He'd been in a daze since that encounter with Jay in the wood. However, he realized that he was back at White Cross Farm again.

Lou said to him, ‘Are you sure you're OK being Jay's holiday buddy? After all, it's only fair he has a friend staying with him.'

‘Yes, Lou.' In Archer's topsy-turvy life yes sometimes meant no. And vice versa.
Was it Brian that gave you a black eye? ‘No, Lou. It wasn't Brian.'
Because if he told on Brian, or whoever it was that had punched him, the bully, would hurt him ten times worse next time. In any event, Archer found himself in the next bedroom to Jay's at White Cross.

Max, one of the fourteen-year-olds, had carried Archer's bags from the village. Max was one of the evil ones. When Lou had been distracted he'd nipped the skin on Archer's neck on the walk up here. That had given the bully a lot of pleasure; his grin had been one of fierce delight as he'd dealt out the sadistic pinches. At the farm they found Jay in the goat's enclosure. It consented to lie there like a cat as Jay had stroked its rough pelt. While Lou talked to the man and lady who ran the farm, Archer and Max entered the enclosure.

Max's lips curled into a cruel grin as he watched Jay with the goat. ‘Hey, Jay . . . hey, witch, look at me when I'm talking to you.'

Jay looked up with such large dark eyes.

Max chuckled. ‘Have you ever had a monkey kiss?'

Jay didn't answer. He seemed miles away.

Archer saw that Max was in a reckless mood. Then everyone had been reckless today. Even Archer.

Max bent over Jay. ‘This's a monkey kiss.' He pinched the skin on the side of Jay's neck just under the ear. Even by Max's standards it was a particularly sadistic pinch. When he released his grip on the flesh, Jay's neck was briefly a bloodless white before turning a sore-looking red. Strangely, Jay hadn't even flinched.

Despite his usual timid demeanour Archer protested, ‘Max, you shouldn't have done that.'

‘You going to stop me? You're only as big as a mouse. You couldn't stop nothing.' Max gripped the skin of Archer's neck then crushed it hard. Archer whimpered. ‘Crybaby,' Max sneered.

Jay stared into space, his hand resting limply on the goat's flank. ‘Max.'

‘What, witch boy?'

‘Max . . . Max . . .' Jay's voice had a lifeless quality. There seemed to be no strength behind it, but at that moment it seemed that no power on earth could stop him repeating the bully's name. ‘Max . . . Max . . . Max . . .'

Victor found himself in the grip of some force not unlike gravity. He couldn't resist wrapping his arms round Laura. He returned her kiss with a fierce passion. Although they stood by the river he could have been a million miles away from the island – lost in a cosmos of scintillating lights. His heart beat harder as she buried her face in his chest. At that moment, a mood of recklessness electrified the very atmosphere around him. He couldn't remember feeling like this for years.

‘Now you think I really am mad,' she panted.

‘No. Not at all. I needed that, too.'

‘A safety valve.' Despite her earlier near panic-attack a smile reached her lips . . . such soft and pretty lips too. ‘Do you think we released some dangerous pressures there? Or are we inviting more danger into our lives? I don't know, I feel in the mood for crazy adventures, or . . . wild encounters.' She grinned.

He touched her hair. Its softness sent his pulse racing. ‘You know, I'd forgotten what it felt like to be alive.'

‘You're starting to sound a lot like me. I can't remember the last time I kissed someone with . . . I don't know . . . anything that can be described as passion. It must be this island. It affects people, doesn't it? Makes them act out of character. You find yourself longing to do things – extraordinary things.'

‘I hope I was partly responsible, rather than a few acres of dirt in a river.'

She kissed him on the cheek. ‘Will they let us into the pub for that drink yet?'