The Lives She Left Behind (41 page)

A trill of soft notes came into the car and Ferney realised as they got louder that Gally’s phone was ringing in his pocket. ‘Hello?’ he said.

‘Is that you?’ Lucy’s voice was a whisper.

‘Yes. I’m in a car. We’re coming down to see her.’

‘I’m there now. You won’t get in. It’s like Dartmoor Prison. Electric gates. She’s told them to keep you out – Fleur, I mean. She’s on the
warpath.’

‘Is there any other way in?’

‘No, but listen. I think I’ve got an idea.’

Fleur had made Lucy and Ali wait outside while she talked to the doctors at the clinic. ‘I might ask you to walk her around the gardens,’ she had said. ‘See
if you can get any more sense into her. Sit in the car while I sort it out, will you? Don’t leave the car without locking it. They have mad people here.’

When Fleur disappeared inside Lucy immediately rang Ferney, and Ali listened to the course of their conversation with mounting horror. ‘You can’t be serious,’ she said when
Lucy stopped talking.

‘Never more so,’ said Lucy. ‘You be Thelma and I’ll be Louise. Are you up for it?’

‘No.’

‘Are you a real friend?’

‘Yes, I am, but we’ll be arrested.’

‘So you don’t really believe what she’s been saying? Not enough to take a risk?’

Ali found herself thinking of Conrad and wishing someone would appear with a car to take her back to him and imagining how it would be if they had loved each other for ever and ever.

‘But you can’t even drive,’ she said. ‘Can you?’

‘Yes I can. My dad let me drive our car round an airfield last year. Twice. I’m OK if this is an automatic. Is it?’

They looked at the gear lever.

‘I think so. It says P and D and R.’

‘R must stand for Road,’ Lucy declared.

‘Or Reverse?’

‘No, if R was for Reverse, there would have to be F for Forwards, wouldn’t there? Nice of her to leave us the keys.’

‘Lucy, you might kill us.’

‘I might, but I probably won’t. It’s got airbags.’

‘Where will we go?’

‘I think I know just the place.’

They saw a nurse come out of the front door with a patient in a wheelchair, curled and inert, and it was a moment before they realised that this semi-conscious half-girl was Jo.

‘We have to do something,’ said Lucy. ‘Look at the state of her.’

‘All right,’ said Ali, sucking in her breath. ‘All right, but I don’t like Thelma. I want to be Louise.’

‘Done.’

They took the wheelchair from the nurse, wheeled an unresponsive Jo round to the side of the car that was away from the building, and manoeuvred her with difficulty into the back seat.

‘Here goes,’ said Lucy grimly, getting into the driver’s seat and trying to find a way to slide it forward. It seemed to be electric and nothing made any difference.

‘It could be on the steering wheel,’ Ali suggested. ‘Hurry up. They’re going to look out of the window at any moment.’

‘How about this one? Oh no.’ The horn blared. They saw movement behind the curtains.

‘Oh dear. Let’s stop now,’ said Ali.

‘I haven’t even started. Ah, now I have.’

The engine came to life. Lucy pushed the lever on the gear selector to R, pressed the accelerator hard and bumped backwards over the lawn into a flower bed. She saw Fleur come out of the front
door and look at them in astonishment.

‘Try D,’ said Ali. ‘Quickly! And by the way, none of this was my idea.’

Spraying earth, grass and then gravel from spinning tyres, they snaked down the drive to the gates.

‘They’re closed,’ wailed Ali.

‘No, they’re opening. It must be automatic when you’re going out.’

They were indeed opening, but very, very slowly, and when they looked behind, they could see Fleur running as hard as she could down the drive, getting closer and closer.

Rachel had just said ‘I think this must be it’ when a silver car shot out of the clinic entrance ahead of them, bumped up on to the grass verge and veered away up
the road in a series of curves. She slammed on the brakes to miss it and as the car came to a halt a woman wrenched open the rear door, hurled herself in, pointed forward and shouted,
‘That’s my daughter. They’re stealing her. Can you go after them? Please?’

Rachel and Mike turned round to look at her. The woman was looking at Ferney in the back seat next to her. She stared from Rachel to Mike and back again. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said,
‘I know you,’ but by that time Rachel had the car moving, accelerating after the disappearing BMW. When Fleur pulled her mobile out of her pocket and began to dial, Ferney said,
‘Let me help you with that.’ He took the phone from her, lowered the window and threw it out. ‘Whoops!’ he said. ‘Butterfingers. Rachel, can you lock the doors? By the
way, my name’s Ferney.’ He held out a hand, which she ignored.

‘You can’t do this,’ she said faintly. ‘You’re abducting me.’

‘Well no,’ said Rachel, ‘technically not. You asked us for a lift and you asked us to follow your daughter, so I’m doing that. Anyway, I have to see her to check that she
wants me to represent her as her lawyer, you see, so I’m acting in her best interests and I’m not sure that you are. I would suggest you sit back and enjoy the ride.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘I think I do,’ said Ferney. ‘We’ll see.’

By the time they reached Totnes, Lucy had mostly got the hang of steering and was learning about braking, but she hadn’t thought of looking in the rear-view mirror. The GPS was the same as
the one in Ali’s parents’ car so she had put in their destination and everything seemed to be going quite well. Gally was lying out of sight, curled up on the back seat.

‘How far is it now?’

Ali played with the GPS. ‘Twenty-six minutes.’

‘I don’t know what difference you think this will make,’ Fleur said in the car behind. She was breathing in deep gasps and her face was flushed. ‘As soon as we get to
wherever we’re going you can’t stop me phoning, and then you are all going to be in such deep shit. You think you’re looking after her, do you? No one’s going to believe
your crackpot story.’

‘I can see why you would think that,’ Rachel said calmly, ‘but maybe you should suspend your disbelief just for a short time. I had to.’

‘You’re supposed to be sensible, you are,’ Fleur retorted. ‘What do you think the Law Society is going to have to say about all this when I get on to them, eh?
They’ll have you banned or whatever in no time flat and as for you, Mr Teacher, I reckon your teaching days are over.’

‘Is that a promise?’ said Mike. ‘Please don’t raise my hopes unless you mean it.’ Rachel giggled and Fleur sank back into a brief and frustrated silence.

‘Let your daughter explain to you,’ Rachel suggested after a while. They had reached the narrow lanes and Fleur was gazing ahead, wincing at Lucy’s near-misses with the
hedgerows and oncoming traffic.

‘Oh, she’s done that. She’s full of moonshine about Saxons and battles and this, that and the other. As for you, young man, don’t you go thinking I’m going to let
the two of you get together. No way. I’ll get a court order if I have to. I can stop all this, just like that. Don’t you see what you’re doing? You’re making it worse for
her. The minute I get her back, they’ll have her inside and put away and you’re all going to have a lot of questions to answer.’

‘That’s a good way of dealing with her, is it?’ Ferney asked quietly.

‘It’s worked so far.’

‘Oh yes. She told me. You’ve had her on tablets for a long time, haven’t you?’

‘Best thing for her,’ said Fleur defiantly. ‘She used to babble nonsense all the time when she was tiny. I couldn’t stand it. Her and her daft friend.’

‘What did she call her friend?’

‘Girly.’

‘No, not Girly. Gally,’ said Ferney. ‘Her real name.’

‘Don’t give me that Gally crap. She’s made all that up, just to fit,’ and Fleur saw three heads shaking in unison.

The car in front slowed down as they drove into Slapton. ‘Here’s the deal,’ said Rachel. ‘I can’t stop you calling the police and I won’t try, but you had
better understand this. I will represent your daughter and I will fight my very hardest to stop her being sectioned. If you want to avoid that, this is my offer. Sit down with us now, for one hour
only, with a mind as open as you can manage, and if you’re still determined to do it your way – well then, so be it.’

Fleur only grunted, which might or might not have been acceptance. As the chantry tower came into sight, they saw a third head lift up from the back seat and peer out.

‘She’s responding,’ said Ferney. ‘I knew she would.’

They could see her gesturing emphatically as the tower came closer and then the BMW came to a complete stop, its driver oblivious to the car behind. The reversing light came on as it backed
uncertainly for a few yards, and turned left into the narrow alley to the pub, leaving silver paint on the corner of the wall.

Rachel parked out on the road. ‘Why the hell are we here again?’ said Fleur.

‘Because she knows this is where she needs to be,’ Ferney answered calmly.

They got out and walked into the pub yard, Fleur following unwillingly. The three girls were standing there, staring at the tower. Lucy and Ali turned round, astonished. ‘Jo?’ said
Fleur, but her daughter took no notice. ‘Jo, I want you to tell these people to go away. I’m taking you home. And as for you, Miss Lucy, I’ll have my keys back right
now.’

‘Gally? I’m here,’ said Ferney, and the girl turned with a cry of utter delight, rushed to him and wrapped her arms round him. Ferney held her tightly, stroking her hair with
one hand.

‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘I’m not leaving you now. Rachel’s here to help you, as your lawyer.’

‘Don’t you do that,’ Fleur shouted.

‘That is what you want, isn’t it?’ said Ferney urgently. ‘Just say yes,’ and Gally whispered the word.

‘That’s good enough for me,’ said Rachel. ‘Now, do we have a deal? One hour, that’s all.’

Fleur looked at her watch. ‘One hour then I call them. I don’t know why you’re bothering.’ She stared, speechless, at the boy and girl in front of them, hugging each
other close.

‘Don’t you see?’ said Mike. ‘We can’t get in the way of this.’

Ferney released Gally, keeping her hand in his.

‘Sit down, everybody,’ said Rachel and they all sat down around a table. Gally was smiling through tears.

‘We’ve been here before,’ Ferney said calmly. ‘Would you like to know when?’

Fleur didn’t respond.

‘December,’ said Ferney. ‘A week before Christmas.’

‘We were in Exeter for Christmas.’

‘Christmas in the year thirteen hundred and seventy-two – that’s when we were here. It was brand new. We came for the consecration of the Chantry. He invited us himself –
Sir Guy.’ He looked up at the tower and turned to Gally. ‘It’s the first time I’ve seen it since. It’s taken a bit of a battering, hasn’t it?’ She gave him
an uncertain smile but said nothing.

Mike looked at Fleur. ‘Would you like a brandy?’ he asked and she stared at him wildly, then nodded. ‘Coffee for me, please, Mike,’ said Rachel. ‘This is going to
be a good day for staying alert.’

He brought the drinks back and found them sitting in silence, Ferney and Gally leaning together with an arm round each other and Fleur staring at them as if they might bite her. She took the
glass from him and looked at him equally warily.

‘We came here together,’ said Ferney, ‘because the man who built it was a friend. Do you remember where we stayed?’ Gally pointed at the pub. ‘That’s
right,’ he said encouragingly. ‘That was the guest house and over there was the chapel and the monks’ quarters and kitchens. Poor Guy.’

Gally looked down and mumbled something.

‘Yes,’ said Ferney. ‘That’s right. He was terrified and there was no need.’ He turned to Mike. ‘He held King Edward’s standard at the battle of
Crécy, held it through thick and thin, the bravest of men – but he had been tricked into killing his own son and then the priests got him. They told him he was bound for purgatory
– a million years of torment, worse than hell. He built this place and hired teams of priests to sing for his soul every hour of the day and night. He thought it was his only
chance.’

Mike looked at Fleur as she took a swig of brandy. Her eyes were fixed on the boy, glaring from a tight face.

‘Your daughter was in torment too,’ Ferney told Fleur. ‘She had been trapped in a choice which killed one of our sons, but it was no choice really because in the end both our
sons died and it filled her head for years and years. Guy listened to her, helped her shape her feelings into ideas that healed both of them.’ He looked at Gally. ‘You gave him his
purpose back. What you told him, saved him.’

She was trying to speak and they all watched her in silence until it became unbearable.

‘You told him what you thought about war and death and life. Do you remember that?’ He held her shoulders, gently urging her, but she still didn’t answer. ‘Think about
being here that day. You and me, in the clothes he gave us – the finest clothes we had ever worn. Red and green.’

There was still no response.

‘He asked you to read out the words you gave him at the consecration ceremony. He wanted you to be the one to read them out. He begged you to and you said no.’ Ferney was looking
intently at her face. ‘Then think about our sorrow,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, but I think you have to remember our loss,’ and her face began to crumple.

‘They mustn’t hurt him,’ Gally said, and they all froze. ‘I’m not losing him. Edgar, my son. My beautiful Edgar. My Edgar and my Sebbi.’

‘Yes, that’s it,’ said Ferney. ‘Don’t let go of them. Where did Edgar die?’

‘In a field by a river,’ she said. ‘You took me there. A river by a bridge.’

‘Do you remember what they called it?’

‘Stamford,’ she said, ‘Stamford Bridge,’ and they all looked at Fleur as she was unable to suppress a sharp intake of breath.

‘They made Sebbi build the castle,’ she said in a voice that grew in strength with every word, ‘and they killed him when he could not.’

‘And then?’