Authors: Brad Stevens

The Hunt (29 page)

BOOK: The Hunt

7.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

ads

***

Mara spent the next few days supervising the carpenter who was installing wall-to-wall shelves in her guest room, and wondering how she could reconnect with Melissa Valance. Perhaps a less thematically ambitious Melissa adventure would recharge her creative batteries. But that was for later. Her Hunt novel may have been abandoned, but her intention of writing about the Hunt had not. Mara knew she wouldn't be good for anything until she'd written the Hunt out of her system. The general public now had more information about the Hunt than ever before, and if their understanding of this information was inevitably coloured by the right-wing press, there had to be people who were shocked and appalled by the details which had emerged. But the real impetus for change would surely come from elsewhere. South Africa's apartheid system only ended because of international sanctions which threatened to wreck the country's economy. Similar sanctions directed against the UK could bring about an end to the Hunt, and perhaps many of the other restrictions British women had to deal with.

Mara recalled telling Catherine about the Japanese saying:
Deru kui wa utareru
. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down. She'd compared herself to the nail. But now she would be the hammer. She would write a book telling the world exactly what was going on in Great Britain, a book about her own experience. Not a thriller with a fictional protagonist, but an autobiography which would be more terrifying than any horror novel. She thought back to the evening before the letter from Hunt Administration arrived. She'd gone with Yuke to see
Heaven's Gate
, a film whose protagonist only makes a decisive stand against oppression when it's too late to do any good. Mara had waited a long time to take her own stand, but she didn't think it was too late. The Hunt had finally relaxed its grip on her, but she refused to relax her grip on it. She now understood that, for better or worse, her life was divided into three stages: before, during and after the Hunt. And that was how her book would be structured. She sat down in front of her computer and created a new file entitled
The Hunt
. At the top of page one, she wrote, “In Memory of J.” If nothing else, she was determined to set the story straight about Julia. But this would also be another book for Yuke, a book which, if it had the desired effect, would ensure that Yuke and thousands of women like her never had to go through the ordeal of the Hunt. Mara could not write this book without being totally truthful. Of course, she'd have to eliminate all references to her lover before sending the manuscript to a publisher. But for now, she would tell her story exactly as it happened, and let the unexpurgated draft sit on a shelf until the time was right.

Mara began writing in the first person, but quickly realised this was the wrong approach. Direct narration would make the book unbearable, whereas, by referring to herself in the third person, she'd achieve just enough distance. Under the heading,
“Book 1: Mara Gorki (Before the Hunt),” she wrote: “Mara hadn't left the apartment in almost a fortnight. She'd been writing a new Melissa Valance novel, potentially her best yet, and saw little reason to venture outside. Food could be ordered online or by phone, while Yuke's weekly visits satisfied her desires for sex and companionship. She wouldn't have described herself as agoraphobic, but staying home gave her a sense of security.”

It was a good opening. While struggling with
A Kill is Just a Kill
, Mara feared the ability to write had permanently deserted her. But now she worked continuously for the rest of the day and throughout the night, stopping only when her eyes refused to remain open a minute longer, collapsing into bed as the light of a new morning appeared. She thought of Yuke, of Mary, of Claire, of Catherine, of Madeleine, of Julie. And once again, she dreamed of a familiar voice telling her to wake up. Finally, she knew whose voice it was.