The Father's House (19 page)

The shoes moved back and forth. A towel fell to the floor, and was followed by a pair of plump arms. As they swooped down to pick up the towel, David could just see the side of the laundry aunt's head and shoulders. If she had twisted slightly to the right she would have looked straight into his eyes. How could she not have heard his heart beating? The voices in the kitchen below continued unheard, deadened by the pounding of blood in his ears.

Then, as suddenly as they had come in, the shoes turned back towards the door and the laundry aunt gave a loud sigh of satisfaction as she switched off the light. “Good job done!” she said aloud to herself. The door closed behind her.

David didn't dare move in case she came back in. As he waited he breathed deeply, trying to calm his taut nerves. His first thought was to how get out of there without being seen, but then he remembered why he had come. He tried to focus once again on the sounds from below.

“Father Copse is going to be away for the whole weekend,” commented one voice. “Sarah won't know she's born!”

There was laughter, and someone said, “I know. I heard. But we shouldn't laugh because it's not going to be funny. Something's going to happen there tomorrow night.”

David tensed. The voice faded briefly and then returned, and he caught, “Father Drax's men are going to do it. He wants the redhead.” There was a clattering of pots and pans and a distant murmur of voices.

His heart beat faster and he thought of Lucy. She might be in danger. He would have to warn her that something was planned for tomorrow night. He listened a while longer, and caught ‘old woman', and then nothing more than the meaningless chatter of the aunts as they moved back and forth. He hoped that Matthew had managed to pick up any important bits he had missed.

Just as he was about to roll out from under the shelf he caught Dorothy's name and then his own. He froze. There was something about the ‘disposal cells'. Every pore in his body was alert.

“If he guesses she's there he'll try and get at her. Matthew's been given instructions not to let him out of his sight.”

A current of shock ran through David's body. Matthew! He couldn't move. Was this a nightmare, or was it real? A red hot hammer thumped in his head. He desperately tried to remember whether he had told Matthew any of Dorothy's secrets, even inadvertently. With horror he recalled that less than an hour or so ago he had nearly told him about the linen cupboard.

Suddenly someone shouted, “You've forgotten to put in the potatoes!” and sounds of universal panic wafted upwards.

David pulled himself together and rolled out of his hiding place. He stood up silently and tiptoed through the blackness to the door, testing each floorboard for possible creaks. As soon as he was out on the landing he glanced around, but reminded himself that Matthew didn't know where he was. As he hurried down the stairs Lucy's and Dorothy's faces swam before his eyes.

In the hall Matthew was standing, looking anxious and uncertain. A wave of relief passed over his face when David appeared. In a flash it was replaced by the cheerfully open expression that made everyone his friend.

“Where were you, you lazy devil?” he asked, affectionately. “I've been working hard on your behalf while you've been idling away upstairs.” He linked his arm through David's. “I've nothing to report, I'm afraid. Only the gabbling of a bunch of old women.”

David didn't pull his arm away. “Had a headache so I lay down. It's gone now.” He tried to sound natural. “I've been thinking about what you said. You're right. It's best to leave things be for a while.”

“Good lad!” said Matthew, slapping him on the back.

An aunt appeared, and banged the brass gong that was suspended just outside the dining room door. Children poured in from every direction, and they went in to supper. Matthew stayed by David's side all evening. Later, as they lay in their dormitory beds, David listened to Matthew's breathing through most of the night and knew that he was awake.

The Holy Leaders had held several meetings with the fathers to discuss what should be done about Dorothy. They didn't take things lightly. Next week she would be sixteen and in the normal course of things she would have been allocated to a father in marriage. After all, she was a beautiful girl and highly intelligent, and would make excellent material for the breeding rooms. The trouble was none of the fathers wanted the responsibility. As her biological father and the father of her commune, Drax had been given an opportunity to express his views. He was furious with her. “Just like her mother!” he had spluttered. “Let her go the same way.”

One of the Holy Leaders had gently reprimanded him. They had wanted his views but not his emotion. “There is no room for feelings in such a serious matter,” he had said. “We must be objective.” As a result of his outburst Father Drax was not allowed to vote. Even so, the result was unanimous. If no-one was prepared to take on Dorothy as a wife in the breeding rooms, the only alternative was disposal.

Soft voices swished and swam round Dorothy's head but she couldn't hear what they said. This couldn't be real. She shook herself but the nightmare didn't go away. Here were the aunts she'd known all her life. Tears were falling down Aunt Bertha's cheeks. “Stop that now,” said someone gently. “It's the Magnifico's will. Blessed be his holy purpose.”

Unfamiliar loose black trousers had been tied with a cord round her waist, and now a long black tunic was being pulled down over her head.

“Where am I?”

No-one answered. There was no need. She looked around the sparsely furnished cell and knew where she was. It was something that had happened to others. It had happened to her mother, but she had never really believed it could happen to her.

“You may be here for a few days yet,” said an aunt. “The
Holy Vision
is on the table if you want something to read. We'll bring you your supper later.”

Supper! As if she could eat!

The aunts left and locked the door behind them. Dorothy looked around her. There was a table, a chair, and a sort of camp bed. She lay down on the bed. Five months of freedom passed before her eyes like a documentary film. Had it been worth it? There was Tom who'd looked after her for weeks. He had shown her the safest railway arches to sleep under, the best restaurant bins for food, the most confusing side roads for avoiding pursuers, how to use money and a mobile phone, and how to beg and to kiss. That had surely been worth it. But Tom had said he had to go away for a while and that he'd contact a friend who would look after her and find her a proper job.

That was when things went wrong. The friend got her an interview in a small hotel and left her there on her own in a smart little lounge to wait for the proprietor. A girl with dreamy eyes brought her a drink, put it gently down on the coffee table next to a potted plant, and floated away. A few minutes later another girl looked in. She was more alert and smiled at Dorothy.

“Drink up,” she said.

Dorothy sniffed the drink, and wondered what alcohol smelled like.

“You'll be glad of it if you're new to all this,” said the girl with a wink. “It'll help you relax. Be quick about it before the old cow comes or I'll get into trouble.”

Dorothy was beginning to feel uncomfortable. All she wanted was a job, not a drink. She didn't want to sound rude so she just nodded and waited till the girl had left, and then hastily poured it into the potted plant.

She was leaning back in her chair with the empty glass in her hand when a smartly-dressed middle-aged woman appeared in the doorway.

“Ah, good!” she commented. “They gave you a drink. We like to look after people.” She sat herself down opposite Dorothy and seemed to be waiting for something.

“Oh well, I haven't got all day,” she said at last. “Let's get straight to the point. Are you experienced?”

Dorothy gazed at her blankly. “I've got no experience at all of hotel work,” she said, “but I'm a quick learner.”

“Well, I don't normally take girls off the street. You'd have to have a health check.”

What on earth was she talking about? Suddenly a horrible sick feeling had grabbed at Dorothy's stomach. She'd heard of places like this. One of the girls under the railway arches had told her about them. Next time she saw Tom she'd have to warn him about his friend.

“There's been a mistake.” She stood up. “I have to go.” Thank goodness she hadn't touched the drink. She hurried through the hall and was out in the street before the woman had time to get out of her chair. Tom couldn't possibly have known what his friend was like. She'd have to tell him as soon as he got back from wherever it was.

Outside, the friend was leaning against the wall talking on his mobile phone. Dorothy started to run and he ran after her. “Hey, wait!” He caught her arm, and she shook it off. With her fist curled into a hard little ball she turned and punched his nose and ran. She was a fast runner but when she looked back over her shoulder there he was, just yards behind, with blood all over his face. Then she did the most stupid thing she'd ever done in her life. She ran into a policeman.

“Maria!” Claudia called softly, on the Friday morning. “Eureka! At least I hope it's eureka.”

She stood in a corner of the living room moving her feet up and down. The floor creaked beneath the rug.

“Let's look,” she whispered.

“He's gone,” laughed Maria. “There's no need to whisper while he's away.”

They rolled back the rug and the underlay, and revealed the floorboard. It was split several inches down from a nail at one corner. On their hands and knees they prised the wood away from the nail with the knives from their meal tray, and wrenched it up with their hands, splitting it full length. In the next board a corner nail was loose. That came out easily with the use of a fork. Digging around the remaining nails with the knives and the fork they loosened all three until the board came up quite easily. Working intensely, they repeated the process until they had lifted four boards.

The joists underneath were firm and in good condition and spaced about eighteen inches apart. Pipes and electric wires ran along the gap.

“We'll never get through those,” said Claudia. “We'll have to do some more.”

They worked hard all morning. By midday they had managed to force up five more floorboards with good clear gaps between the joists.

“I won't be able to squeeze through there,” said Maria, “but you might.”

Lying on their stomachs and stretching down with knives in their hands, they tried to reach the lath and plaster ceiling below, but the space was too deep. Maria jumped up and fetched a broom. She banged the handle down onto the plaster. It was hard and solid. However fiercely she banged, it had no effect. They gazed down into the space and racked their brains for a tool of some sort.

“Water!” announced Maria suddenly. “A flood!” She ran to the bathroom and filled a large plastic bowl with hot water, and carried it to the living room.

“We'll do this all day and all night if we have to,” she said, pouring the water through the joists. “We'll pour and pour, and bang with the broom handle, and it'll get soggy and collapse. His cleaner won't come up till Monday. We've got two days. We'll never have this chance again.” Her parents' faces swam before her eyes and filled her with an energy she'd never known before.

“My father's going to be so angry with me,” puffed Claudia, as she thumped away with the broom handle. “He told me not to walk home alone if I had to work late. I was supposed to ring him for a lift, but I'd been there all day in that stuffy library writing my dissertation. The outside air seemed so fresh and sharp and I just needed to stretch my legs. And, you know, you never think it could happen to you.”

“No. We all think we're invincible till it happens!” Maria grunted as she poured another bowlful into the gap. “But he'll be over the moon to find you! Of course he won't be angry – or if he is it'll be because of the relief.”