Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (9 page)

After another nod from Moses, two more people got up, hurrying through the other door before returning moments later with a mop and bucket.

In under five minutes everything had been moved or washed away, as if it had never happened. The scent of bleach hung in the air as the cleaners returned to their seats. Moses had stood unmoving
through the entire incident. When he spoke, his tone was slightly lower but firmer and full of authority.

‘Sometimes we all have hard lessons to learn. I did not do this lightly but certain people here have perhaps become a little too comfortable. We should trust each other but we must be wary
of others – outsiders.’

While he had been speaking, Moses had not singled out anyone specifically, staring into the distance. As he paused, he glanced down, focusing on Heather.

‘I heard of the incident with our dear Heather’s father. Many of us know the things she has been through and we have all seen the progress she has made.’

He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging her.

‘I want you all to know that I was proud of the way you acted; sticking up for each other, acting calmly, without malice, without aggression. Outside of these walls, that is exactly the
type of behaviour we will attract simply because of who we are and what we stand for. We learn to be self-sufficient, to act outside of their rules.’

He paused for breath, letting his words sink in, even though Jessica was pretty sure he had not said anything of any substance.

She was used to the methods because of the number of solicitors and lawyers she dealt with; people who could waffle for five minutes at a time without making a single point. Not long after she
had become a detective constable, she had been in court testifying against a burglar she’d arrested. He had been caught in possession of goods stolen from a house but claimed he’d found
them in a hedge and was on the way to the police station to hand them in. Somehow, his solicitor had managed to get the jury to acquit him. Outside the court, both the client and solicitor were
beaming, high-fiving, unable to believe their luck. Jessica asked the solicitor if he was proud of himself and the sneering response was something she had never forgotten: ‘Listen, love,
you’ve either got the gift of the gab, or you ain’t.’

Moses had the gift of the gab. It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it – with conviction and utter belief. It didn’t matter that he spoke in generalisations –
because he said it so earnestly, people believed in him.

The room was enthralled, hanging on his every word as he explained why he had let a stranger crack his head open to make the point that they should trust each other, not the outside world. It
didn’t even make sense, because he was the person who had shown he couldn’t be trusted by betraying the faith put in him.

Jessica could see how it worked: vulnerable people taken away from their families, fed ideological nonsense by a father figure, something many of them either hadn’t previously had or
hadn’t been able to rely on.

At worst, he ended up with a group of young women he could manipulate into his bed. At best, he had an army at his disposal.

Whether it was because of her age, life experience or even that she was a cynical copper, Jessica could see the danger within him.

She had switched off but heard Moses’s final sentence: ‘We should continue to spread the word, despite the persecution. Trust each other, trust me, and together we will build a
better life for ourselves.’

As he sat, the room erupted into spontaneous applause. Jessica joined in, making sure she didn’t stand out. Moses turned and kissed Zipporah first and then Katie. Both women seemed as
happy as everyone else. The atmosphere was so electric that Jessica felt herself being drawn in. Everyone was trying to outdo the person next to them, clapping louder until somebody whooped. Soon,
everyone was doing the same, the noise rising ever louder until Moses stood again, holding his hands out and bowing.

Slowly the reception ebbed away until there were one or two people clapping, competing to be the last to stop.

Jessica had never seen anything like it but her heart was beating quickly, caught up in the moment too.

The hour after the meal was spent split into smaller groups around the ground floor for evening worship. The starting point was the Bible but there was little that was religious about it.
Zipporah led Jessica’s group, reading a passage and then inviting people to share their own similar life experiences. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t collapse into tears
as they told their story: sexual abuse, drugs, violence, dead and injured family members, plus everything in between. On and on it went until it was Jessica’s turn. She spoke about the shock
of seeing her father collapse, getting away without expanding because everyone was drowning in their own emotions by the time it was her turn.

Jessica had no idea how often this happened but if it was every night, then it was no wonder everyone present was conditioned to be scared of the outside world. Putting their stories together,
anyone could have deduced that society was full of bad people just waiting to prey on them.

They finished with a reading and hymn, which Jessica mimed to, before everyone was dismissed. They all moved into the hallways but Heather was in a different group and Jessica had no idea where
to go. One of the other women slowed until she was at Jessica’s side. She was older than Heather and Katie but probably still not thirty.

‘I’m Abigail,’ she said, offering her hand for Jessica to shake. ‘It was very moving what you said in there,’ she added as Jessica tried to remember what
Abigail’s story had been.

‘Yours was very thought-provoking too,’ Jessica replied, thinking that sounded plausible enough.

‘What are you doing now?’

‘I don’t know. Heather told me people often go to the games room in the evening but I’m not sure where I am.’

Abigail giggled girlishly. ‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly enough. I remember my first week here. I was walking in circles trying to find the work hall. I passed the door
three times before Zip helped me.’

‘What’s Zip like?’

‘Oh, she’s lovely. She’s like everyone’s mum. I’d say you can go to her if you ever have a problem but no one ever has an issue here – at least nobody I
know.’

The others began to separate, but Jessica stayed close to Abigail as she led them into the room with the snooker table. The Asian man who had helped Glenn with the injured recruit and another
man were playing darts at the far end but it was otherwise empty.

‘Do you play snooker?’ Abigail asked.

‘I’m too short.’

Abigail laughed loudly but it didn’t sound forced. ‘Me too. We can just sit and chat if you want?’

Jessica agreed, wanting to try to get a feel for the other people who lived there. So far she had little Charley could be interested in. Being charismatic and encouraging others to be suspicious
of the outside world wasn’t a crime. Allowing the man to crack his head was ultimately too small an incident by itself.

As soon as they sat, Heather entered with a couple of other girls. She instantly headed towards Jessica, sitting next to her and squeezing her hand.

‘How was your study session?’ she asked.

‘Good,’ Jessica replied, wondering what else she could say.

‘Let me introduce you to a few people.’

Everyone Jessica met was keen to tell her the story of what they had left behind to be there. It was only her first evening and thanks to the study session, she had already heard some of the
tales twice. The openness was particularly disturbing, not least because Jessica didn’t want to tell anyone what had happened to her unless she really had to.

The Asian man finished playing darts and joined her on the sofa, with Heather on the other side.

‘I’m Ali,’ he said, offering Jessica his hand. His skin was smooth and he had large black eyes with long eyelashes some girls would spend years trying to perfect.

‘Jessica.’

‘It’s always nice when we have new people.’

‘Can I ask what happened to the man who hit his head? You helped to move him.’

Heather tensed but Ali seemed happy to oblige. ‘He’s absolutely fine – it looked a lot worse than it was. Moses has been to see him and he understands what happened. He feels
honoured that Moses chose him to be part of the lesson.’

Jessica knew that Moses was good with words – but convincing someone that splitting his head open was a good thing was impressive by anyone’s standards.

‘At least he’s okay.’

‘Moses would never do anything to deliberately hurt any of us. This was a lesson to us all.’

Jessica thought it was time to change the subject, leaning back as casually as she could, closer to Heather. ‘Apart from this, what do you usually do in the evenings?’

‘Some of us play cards,’ Ali replied. ‘Obviously not for money but I suppose there’s a bit of a competitive edge. We play other games too: dominoes and dice.’

‘I often just read in my room,’ Heather added. Jessica assumed that meant she read the Bible, seeing as she hadn’t noticed any other books in the house.

Ali continued: ‘We all mingle and mix, getting to know each other and our backgrounds. We consider it an honour when people share their life stories. It helps us all to grow. You can
probably guess that I don’t come from a Christian background. My parents were Muslim. I fell in with a bad crowd after leaving college. Drinking and doing drugs. Then there were the girls . .
. I kept it a secret for long enough but one of my parents’ friends spotted me one night. They disowned me and I ended up living on the streets for a while.’

‘In Manchester?’

‘Glasgow.’

‘You don’t have an accent.’

Ali shrugged. ‘I used to stow away on trains, hiding in the toilets and stealing leftover bits of food from the tables when people got off. One time I was caught and thrown off in
Bradford. The guards wanted to prosecute me, or at least make me pay. When they realised I was homeless, they sent me on my way after taking my picture and saying they’d send it to all the
train stations around the country so people would be on the lookout for me.’

Jessica almost cut in, telling him that wouldn’t have happened in practice, but she stopped herself in time.

‘Anyway, I had never been to Bradford before. I only knew that’s where I was because of the big sign on the way out of the station. I’d never seen so many people who looked
like me. It was nice in some ways but I think people sensed I was different. I had been sleeping on streets and trains for weeks, so it’s no surprise. I found myself in the centre, stumbling
around, and that’s when someone introduced me to Zipporah. I got on the minibus that evening and I’ve never looked back.’

Jessica paused, letting his words sink in. She’d heard similar tales that evening but never told with such relish. He was as committed as anyone.

‘What exactly was it here that turned you around?’

Ali bit on his bottom lip, before breaking into a smile. ‘It’s everything. Some of it is simply being away from everything that used to be around me. I work with Glenn outside, so
it’s nice being in that fresh air.’

‘What do you do?’

‘We plant crops and harvest them according to the time of year. We grow as much as we can here.’

‘Is it only the men who work with Glenn?’

Ali stopped, biting his lip again, thinking. ‘I suppose so. I’ve never thought of it like that. Everything we do is assigned by Moses. If he thought a female was suited to being
outside, I’m sure he’d put them there.’

‘Don’t you ever want to see your parents again?’

Ali began answering and then stopped, correcting himself. ‘It’s not a question of that. Here, we are given a chance at redemption.’

‘Couldn’t you visit them and come back?’

Ali glanced at Heather, who was out of Jessica’s eye line. ‘Have you met one on one with Moses yet?’

‘No.’

Another awkward glance.

‘There aren’t many rules for living here but one of them is that when you’re here, you’re here. Anyone is free to leave but you have to stick to that decision.’

‘So if you leave you can’t return?’

‘We are taught to take responsibility for our actions and decisions. If you choose to go, that’s a decision you have to deal with.’

‘Do many people leave?’

This time Ali was emphatic. ‘Hardly anyone. Every now and then someone will stop coming to dinner because they have chosen to go.’

‘Has anyone ever told you they were opting to leave?’

‘No, people just do – or don’t.’

Ali’s answer was an honest one but he didn’t catch the implication of Jessica’s question. She was thinking that if people stopped coming to dinner, it could be because
something more sinister had happened, as when Liam drowned. Just because everyone else was told that person had chosen to leave, that didn’t make it true.

She wanted to push the point, asking who exactly told them that a person had left, but there was no way of doing so without appearing too interested. She could guess it was Moses or possibly
Glenn in any case. She had got somewhere though – hardly anyone left, but when they did, it was without fanfare or seemingly without the knowledge of the others.

Jessica stopped there, even though Ali was hinting that she could open up to him if she wanted. Very politely, she told him that she would see him another time, before turning to Heather and
saying truthfully she was feeling tired.

They went upstairs together, Heather talking enthusiastically about what a nice day she’d had. There had been other days in her life when Jessica had heard a skull crack, but she
didn’t think she could count any of them as ‘nice’.

As soon as they were in the room, Heather pulled the curtains, the only light coming from separate lamps next to each of their beds. She asked Jessica to unzip her dress, unclothing fully before
climbing under her sheets. Jessica removed her own dress, complimenting Heather on its quality, before sliding into the bed still in her underwear. The sheets were crisp and cool, making Jessica
shiver with pleasure. There were very few things in the world that could match the wonderful feeling of new sheets tucked in tightly. They were smooth and soft on her skin, so taut that she could
barely move.