Divine Madness (17 page)

‘But you can still say hello to me can’t you? We can still speak to each other?’

‘James, now you’re an angel it’s not really appropriate for us to be close.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because we’re old enough to be attracted to one another, but we’re not old enough to be married. It’s a combination that only leads to trouble.’

James shook his head. ‘I’m not asking to
 
marry
 
you, Eve. I’d just like the odd conversation.’

‘The Survivors keep teenagers separate until they’re old enough to marry.’

‘But we spent hours playing volleyball and stuff.’

Eve smiled. ‘You weren’t an angel then, James. I was helping you, the same as I’m now helping Terry.’

James was hurt. He knew Eve had been stringing him along to get him to join the cult, but at the same time he’d imagined that there was a bedrock of real friendship between them. James couldn’t make a move himself because of the mission, but he’d harboured hopes that they’d end up snogging or something.

‘Maybe I should speak to Elliot about this,’ Eve said. ‘Perhaps you should talk to one of our counsellors about our beliefs on the sanctity of marriage.’

‘No,’ James gasped, letting his anger show. ‘Can’t we have a normal conversation without you reporting every detail to Elliot?’

‘Ruth and I saw you and Lauren eating ice-cream in the park on Saturday and your collection tins were
 
very
 
light,’ Eve said acidly. ‘We didn’t report that. You would have been in serious trouble with Elliot if we had.’

James couldn’t believe that Eve had spied on them. He felt used; he was jealous of Terry and would have loved to wipe the grin off Eve’s manipulative little face. But Terry and Paul were coming out of the room. Eve started smiling again and James remembered that the important thing was the mission, not his crumpled ego.

‘Try and be extra nice to Terry,’ Eve said quietly, to James. ‘He really needs our love and support right now.’

James smothered his emotions and nodded curtly. ‘I’m sorry, Eve, I was confused. I’ve still got so much to learn.’

‘So,’ Eve beamed, raising her voice and looking at Terry, ‘how did it go?’

‘Great,’ Terry smiled. ‘She only bought peppermints, but she was really friendly.’

Eve hooked her arms around Terry and rubbed his back as she hugged him. ‘You’re going to be so great at this, Terry. I can always tell.’

‘Yeah,’ Paul added. ‘Congratulations on your first sale.’

It looked daft from James’ detached viewpoint, but the once reticent Terry smiled and gobbled up the compliments.

As Eve knocked on the door of the next room, James headed off to get his trolley and start his round. He began at the far end of the corridor, which made Emily his second call. James held up a large bottle of vodka as he entered her room.

‘Hi there. This comes as a freebie, compliments of Elliot.’

‘Cheers, handsome,’ Emily said. She was in bed and didn’t have her usual colour. ‘Could you prop up my pillows please?’

‘What’s the matter?’ James asked, as he stepped up to the bed. Emily leaned forwards and James plumped her pillows before setting them straight behind her back.

‘Just my usual tummy trouble,’ Emily smiled. ‘Back and forth to the loo all day. I know it sounds daft, but when you get to my age that’s enough to sap your strength.’

James put the vodka on Emily’s bedside table, where he noticed another bunch of Survivor leaflets and tapes.

‘Is there anything you’d like me to do? I can have a word with the nurse if you want something for your stomach.’

Emily smiled. ‘No point, nothing ever works. Can you mix the vodka for me? My hands are shaking.’

James grabbed the bottle and twisted off the metal cap, then grabbed a tall plastic jug that held a litre of fluid.

‘Say when,’ James said, as the vodka glugged into the jug.

Emily usually spoke when it was about a third full, but James was nearly at the halfway mark when he stopped.

‘Did I say when?’ Emily asked. Her voice was sharp, but James didn’t take offence because that was just her way.

‘Are you sure you want it mixed this strong when your stomach is playing up?’

Emily smiled. ‘Don’t be lily-livered, handsome. Vodka’s good for the stomach.’

‘Is that a fact?’ James grinned, as he reluctantly splashed a drop more into the jug.

Emily had a tiny fridge in her room. James grabbed a rack of ice cubes and cracked them into the jug before topping it off with milk and brown sugar. He stirred the mixture with a long plastic spoon before pouring the first glass into a tumbler.

‘You make them so good,’ Emily said, as she downed two thirds of the tumbler in one smooth gulp. ‘Top me up.’

The ice in the jug rattled as James refilled the tumbler. He stepped back to his trolley. ‘I’d better be going, Emily. I copped a detention and I’m running so late.’

‘I know you’re busy,’ the old lady said, ‘but can I please ask you one thing?’

James glanced at his watch. ‘I guess.’

‘Elliot was here today.’

‘He’s here a lot,’ James said.

Emily smiled. ‘He’s after my money.’

James acted surprised, though he’d already guessed that this was the motive behind Elliot’s interest in the elderly residents.

‘No offence, handsome. I know you’re a Survivor, but I’ve listened to some of the CDs and I’m not buying Mr Regan and his angels and devils.’

James wanted to say
 
good for you
, but there’d be trouble if it got back to Elliot, so he kept his trap shut.

‘I’m not as wealthy as I was, but there’s still going to be a few bucks sloshing around when I go toes up. All I’ve got is my son and money only brings out the worst in him. I’d really like everything to go to a good cause when I die.’

‘Haven’t you got grandkids?’ James asked.

Emily shook her head sadly. ‘Though to be honest, I don’t reckon my Ronnie would have made much of a father. He’s got a ferocious temper on him.’

‘That’s a shame.’

‘So I was thinking about the Survivor charities,’ Emily said. ‘I don’t want them wasting it building that daft Ark in the outback, but Elliot was talking about the Survivor Development Foundation. He says it helps the people in third-world countries. I could change my will and leave my money to them. Do you think that’s a good idea?’

James would have liked to tell Emily that there were far more worthy and efficient charities that helped out the world’s poor, but he had to think about the mission.

‘The Survivor charities do really great work,’ James smiled. ‘I’m sure hundreds, maybe even thousands, of people would benefit from your money – not that you’ll be dying anytime soon, of course.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I’ll be hanging around much longer.’ Emily smiled as she reached out to touch James’ hand. ‘He’s a smooth talker that Elliot, but there’s a bit of a con-man beneath that corduroy jacket. That’s why I wanted to ask you, James. I reckon I can trust you.’

James managed a guilty smile. ‘How do you figure that?’

‘Because you’re a nice boy. You’ve got an honest face.’

‘Right …’ James said as he backed his trolley out into the corridor. ‘I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Hopefully you’ll feel better, provided you don’t go too mad with the booze.’

James felt like absolute slime. As her door clunked shut, he slumped backwards against the wall and bunched his fists tight with frustration. James knew he wasn’t a perfect human being. He was impulsive, usually in some kind of trouble and prone to lashing out, but he didn’t think he’d ever be able to sit in a room and rip off a fragile old woman the way Elliot had done.

Four weeks later

From: John Jones [[email protected]]

Sent: 23 Mar 2006 08:51

To: Dr Terence McAfferty

Copy: Zara Asker, Dennis King

Subject: Survivors Mission

Dear all,

With regard to your recent e-mails, I’m afraid there continues to be little progress in our mission to infiltrate the Survivors’ Ark. It has now been nearly a month since James, Dana and Lauren moved into the commune and took the aptitude test.

The extremely strict rules on personal property inside the commune make it difficult to contact Abigail and the three cherubs on a regular basis. Mobile phones would easily be spotted, though ASIS technical support teams are looking into providing small radio transmitters that can be hidden under the inner sole of a training shoe when not in use. We hope to have these devices in place within days.

I have mainly been communicating through James Adams, meeting him inside a nursing home where he plies a confectionary route after school. Although he tries to put a brave face on things, I get the impression that James is depressed and worn down. He often seems listless and his concentration wanders during our conversations.

I have also met Abigail on a number of occasions and her behaviour is similar. All four agents have managed to avoid being lured by the cult’s mental control techniques, but the mixture of high activity levels and limited opportunities for sleep are taking their toll.

Chloe and I met with ASIS officials yesterday. Miriam Longford attended and made a useful contribution. She has been in contact with ex-Survivors whom she has counselled, to ask questions about admission to the boarding school inside the Ark.

Acceptance of high ability pupils into the Survivors’ boarding school usually happens within one or two weeks of them taking an admissions test. This is because bright youngsters have a tendency to ask probing questions, combined with a natural taste for rebellion. It is therefore in the cult’s interests to quickly move these youngsters to a remote location where they can take absolute control of their lives.

Unfortunately – for reasons we do not understand – this has not happened to James, Dana and Lauren. After consultation with the ASIS team, we have decided to leave our agents in place for a further two weeks, but we feel that the mission’s chances of succeeding are shrinking rapidly. ASIS has already begun considering alternative strategies, including the risky possibility of a large scale police/military raid on the Survivors’ Ark.

I hope to be able to come back to you soon with better news.

Yours,
John Jones

PS Zara, thank you so much for organising my daughter’s birthday present!

*** THIS E-MAIL CONTAINS SENSITIVE DATA. DO NOT ATTACH OR RESEND WITHOUT USING RANDOM BIT ENCRYPTION ***

James had PE on Thursday afternoons and needed two sweltering hours playing touch football like a hole in the head. To make things worse, the school didn’t have showers so he arrived at the care home stinking of grass and BO. Fortunately, he’d sweet-talked one of the care assistants into letting him use the shower in an unoccupied room.

As he stripped off, James caught himself in the mirror and wasn’t impressed. His clothes were ragged, the man who’d clipped his hair at the commune was a butcher and something about the Survivors’ lifestyle was playing havoc with his skin. James had broken out in spots, especially on the back of his neck where he currently sported three giant whiteheads.

He was surprised by a knock at the door as he sat on a bare metal bedframe pulling on a clean sock.

‘Hiya,’ Elliot said brightly as he stepped in. ‘What’s occurring?’

James shrugged, as he wriggled his foot into his trainer. ‘I can’t go round stinking the joint up.’

‘I like that,’ Elliot said, wagging his finger. ‘Initiative.’

But James could tell that Elliot didn’t like it. It wasn’t that he objected to James taking a shower, he just didn’t like any Survivor deviating from his plans. Elliot took every tiny breach of the timetable as a threat to his authority.

‘But next time, run it by me first, OK?’ he added.

‘What are you doing here?’ James asked.

‘I’m afraid we have a situation,’ Elliot said.

‘What situation?’

‘I got a call from a Mr Wildman, Emily’s son. I tried to arrange her new will through a friendly solicitor, but there was confusion over some property Emily owns and the idiot went and contacted her family solicitor, who turns out to be a friend of Emily’s son. So the son finds out and – cut to the chase – half an hour ago I get a call from Emily. She’s all upset. Her son is here and he’s refusing to leave until he’s talked to me.’

‘Is he angry?’ James asked, secretly delighted that the Survivors might not get their hands on the old girl’s money.

‘I don’t suppose finding out that his mother has left two million bucks to charity will have him dancing a jig,’ Elliot said. ‘I’m going to see if I can talk him around, but I wanted you alongside me. Emily seems terrifically fond of you and people tend to behave more reasonably in front of a larger audience.’