Seed (35 page)

I begin to walk, crouching low, the morning dew painting my calves wet. A pigeon calls out.

And then suddenly we see him. But I can’t know. I won’t. Because his legs are twisted under him and his blood on his body has turned black.

Sophie is screaming as Jack runs to him.
“Ellis!”

But Ellis cannot hear her. His life has gone. Jack grabs Ellis’s shirt in his fist. He’s hitting Ellis’s chest.

I want him to stop.

Push the blood back inside him.

I want everything to stop. I want my heart to stop too.

Ellis, wake up.

Don’t go. Please. Please don’t leave me.

Breathe again. Breathe, Ellis.

Stand up, Ellis.

Come with me.

“Pearl!” Kate’s voice whips at us. She’s running with Sophie toward the safety of the wall. Because Papa S. is here. He has crept up and he is so close and he’s holding something and I know it is a gun.

The sky is so white. So cold.

Run, Pearl, run.

But I can’t move. I stare at Papa S. At Steve Elmack. And it is only hatred I feel now.

I stare at the metal in his hand that has taken Ellis from me.

Ellis has gone.

Jack stares at Papa S. Then he stands up, his arms spread wide. “Do it to me,” he shouts. “If you can do it to Ellis, then do it to me.”

Papa S. raises his gun. We are close enough to see the hole at its end. Somewhere, Kate screams at us, as Jack closes his eyes.

But Papa S. moves it toward his own head. The shot cracks
through the air.

I grab Jack’s hand and we run. The grass lashes my ankles. The echo of the gun is in the air. We run without looking back. Our feet are on the hard of the driveway. Our house is behind us. Ahead of us, Kate has Sophie in her arms as my mother calls me toward freedom. A freedom she never had.

The gate is coming closer. Jack’s breath is with mine.

We are so close.

There is nothing but us.

Us and the Outside.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The biggest thank you goes to my mother—for letting me spend hours with my mind in books. And for telling me I could reach my dreams.

To Veronique Baxter, the best agent in the world. Thank you for taking me on and for your unwavering faith. And to Laura West, for your early input that helped shape
Seed.

To Ali Dougal—I can never thank you enough for making all this a reality. And for your perfect edits, enthusiasm, and warmth. I hope
Seed
does you proud. Thank you also to the whole team at Egmont, especially Lucy Pearse—you spotted my book in the inbox and made enough of a fuss to get it noticed. And to my brilliant copy editor, Marisa Pintado—I’m in awe of your eye for detail!

For my husband, Miles, thank you for always believing I could do it. And for giving me Frank, Arthur, and Albert—sunshine I can hold. I love you all to the stars and back again.

To my siblings, Philip, Lara, Emma, and Anna. You all proudly called me a writer before I trusted I was one. Thank you for stumbling through life with me and making me laugh until I cry.

Thank you to the wonderful Whinneys, for all your love, support, and endless food.

To Lucy and Martin—thank you for the strength of your friendship. And your undiluted excitement when we knew I would be published!

To Stephen M. Nash. You may not be able to say “consumerism” but you write like a diamond. Start your book today. Ditto Toots.
Tynna dy feiro allan o dy drwyn. Rwyt ti’n ardderchog.
Nick M. M., for your love. And Shanaz, for keeping small, yet still managing to run Chaat, the best restaurant in London.

Thank you to Carlene, Cathy, Fabia, Francoise, Rosie, and Sam for everything and more.

Thank you, Mari, for listening to me witter on about books and for reigning in my imagination when it creates yet another ailment.
Rwyt ti’n ardderchog hefyd!
Andrew—thank you for sharing my amazement that this is actually happening. And Ian, for your “500 words a day” rule that got me started. To Lou Channon and all at Brighton Goes Gospel—for joy and sanity. And to Laura Treneer, for being an angel on earth.

To Jo, Barbara, Jackie, and Catherine—thank you for making me read books I would have missed. And thank you to Allie, Debs, Lucy, Sandi, and Suzanna for your wisdom, kindness, and talent. And especially to Nikki—it’s been great to share this journey with you.

A big thank you to Sophie Gordon—you believed in me at the beginning of this road and I’m forever indebted to you.

A big thank you to Carlsen, Running Press, and Albatros Publishers, for taking a chance on a debut author from across the sea.

And finally, to my writing spirit. Thank you for choosing me.

LISA HEATHFIELD
is a former secondary school English teacher, specializing in working with hearing-impaired children.
Seed
is her debut novel. She lives in Brighton, England, with her husband and three children.