Vengeance Child (3 page)

His eyes became vast, dark pools. ‘I went to her room. I told her I was going to take her for a little walk.'

‘A little walk?' she repeated. ‘Why would you do that?'

His voice appeared to merge with the breeze. ‘I wanted to make her happy before she died.'

‘It was an accident. Nobody could possibly guess. How did you know that she was going to die?' She took his hand. ‘Jay, tell me how you knew.'

At that moment a piercing scream rang out. In the play area everyone stopped to stare at the teenage girl who clutched her arm. A boy raced across the lawn toward Laura. ‘Ruth found a knife. She's cut her wrist again!'

Three

When the school party, comprised of a dozen fifteen-year-olds, reached Chapel Hill Victor Brodman hung back as the teacher, a dark-haired beauty with scarlet nails, delivered the lesson. ‘Class, listen up. This is one of the highest points of the Isle of Siluria. Just a hundred yards away from us across that channel is England. Over there is Wales. This is one of the largest river islands in Britain. Until 1875 it had its own parliament and referred to Queen Victoria as the “foreign dame”. Being surrounded by the river means it rarely drops below freezing point, allowing more exotic species of insects to survive the winter.' From time to time Miss Hendricks caught Victor's eye. ‘The Isle of Siluria is named after which ancient kingdom? Gary?'

‘Wales.'

‘Very good. Siluria is indeed the old name for Wales. Tricia, what are the deer called?'

‘It's in the fact sheet, miss.'

‘Humour me, Tricia. I'm the educator, you are my acolyte.'

‘You what?'

Miss Hendricks shot Victor a smile, then fixed a steely eye on the girl. ‘Tricia, I ask questions, you answer them. So, dear, give me the name of the deer, dear.'

The students laughed. They clearly liked their teacher.

Tricia read from the sheet. ‘“Saban Deer. Growing no larger than a Labrador dog . . . they have golden body fur, black fur to head and distinctive blue eyes. Said to be a unique species, but probably a mutant variant of roe deer.”'

‘Thank you, Tricia. The name alone was what I wanted.'

A boy with an Afro hairstyle pretended to be scared. ‘Mutants, miss. You mean like with ten eyes and tentacles.'

‘No face-sucking monsters here, unless you include yourself, Theo. Seeing as I noticed you smooching with Pippa at the back of the bus.' More class laughter. Miss Hendricks was a hit. ‘The deer are mutants in the sense of being a biological offshoot of the common roe. So, no bloodthirsty rampages today.'

The children took advantage of the teacher's discourse being interrupted. ‘Can the island ranger take the class?' asked one. ‘I bet he knows all kinds of stories.'

‘And what time the pub opens,' Tricia added.

Miss Hendricks took it in her stride. ‘You've juice and sandwiches so no need to waste your time in some stuffy tavern.'

‘We don't mind, miss.'

Theo eyed the channel between the island and the mainland. ‘I bet I could swim there and back in twenty minutes.'

Tricia shivered. ‘In this weather? It's f-f-fu-fur-freezing.' The class laughed.

Victor enjoyed the lively banter. ‘Swimming isn't a good idea. There's a current running at over ten miles an hour round the island. Not to mention whirlpools and rip tides. You'd be safer playing with a hand grenade.'

‘So that's why there are a million signs with
danger
plastered all over. Cool.' Theo was impressed. ‘Anybody drowned recently? Have you ever seen a drowned man, Victor?'

‘Mr Brodman to you lot.' Miss Hendricks' eyes twinkled at him.

‘No, Victor's fine. I insist.' He smiled back.

Tricia tapped him on the arm. ‘So – Victor – what's this about your Saban Deer being the ghosts of drowned children?'

‘And isn't it true,' asked a boy in a bush hat, ‘that the population of the deer always matches the island's human population, which currently stands at two hundred and eighty-two?'

Victor was surprised. ‘That's not on the fact sheet.'

Tricia wore a pained expression. ‘Please excuse Greg. He always researches a place before we visit. Hormones, I think.'

Theo winked. ‘He's never kissed a girl.'

‘All right, class,' Miss Hendricks announced. ‘More walking, less talking.'

They moaned.

Miss Hendricks advanced on Victor. ‘So, how long will it take us to walk from this end of the island to the castle at the other?'

‘It's just over two miles, so I reckon we can do it in forty-five minutes.'

‘If them mutant deer don't gore us to death,' Theo added with a huge grin.

‘If they do –' Miss Hendricks pointed the way along the path – ‘interpose your youthful frame between the savage beasts and us.' As they walked the teacher dealt out the facts. ‘At its widest the island is a mile, narrowest just a hundred and fifty yards. Access is by the ferry you dear children arrived on. Its main settlement is the village of Penrow. Tony, pick up your gum and deposit it in the bin provided yonder. Siluria derives its income from tourism, farming and some cottage industry such as pot-making, weaving, and baking.'

Victor nodded. ‘And there are some locals working in website design, PR and we've even got a couple of television script writers.'

Tricia piped up as they walked along the shoreline path. ‘Miss? Miss, a word please, miss.'

They continued to stroll along as the teacher waited for Tricia to catch up. Victor led the way as Theo asked if there was shop that sold rolling tobacco. Even though Tricia and the teacher were now at the back of the group Victor could hear the young girl's excited whisper. ‘I saw how you were looking at Victor. You fancy him, don't you, miss?'

‘Tricia, that's not an appropriate topic of discussion.'

‘He's really dead good-looking, miss. You like him. I can tell. When we get back to the hostel why don't you invite him to the pub?'

‘Thank you, Tricia. I'm perfectly capable of arranging my own romantic liaisons.'

Victor took a moment before glancing back. When he did Miss Hendricks shot him a winning smile.

Once more Laura Parris found herself fighting a battle to protect the children at Badsworth Lodge. The self-inflicted cuts on Ruth's wrist had been minor ones, not much more than scratches really. Nevertheless, Laura knew the warning signs when she saw them. The teenage girl grieved for Maureen even though she hadn't so much as shed a single tear. A lot of the children at Badsworth Lodge did that. They'd conditioned themselves to repress emotion. Because in their old homes emotion equalled weakness. Weakness invited bullying. So, as she peeled off the latex gloves smeared with Ruth's blood, she headed to her office where she telephoned City Hall.

‘Miss Henshaw, have you rearranged the visit to the island?' Laura sighed as she heard a negative reply. ‘The reason I sound ill-tempered is that I'm angry because a friend and colleague of mine has been killed. I'm angry because one of your staff came here today and started asking questions about Jay Summer, leading me to wonder if the press have found out if Jay's now living here. All the more reason to get away for a break.' In the heat of the moment she steamed on. ‘Badsworth Lodge is a volcano that's about to blow itself sky-high. Our children are self-harming, and they're either not sleeping or having nightmares when they do. Come down here, feel the tension for yourself. Everybody's wound up so tight you'd swear this place will be torn from its foundations when the shit finally starts to fly.' Lights in the building flickered. It didn't take a leap of faith to believe this was a sign of an emotional conflagration building. A child shouted in anger in the corridor. Another symptom that nerves had been rubbed raw. Barely suppressed rage simmered in the air. ‘A holiday, Miss Henshaw. Fix it today.'

The voice wheedled in her ear. ‘It's not possible to rearrange one just like that. Maybe in a week or two?'

‘Today, Miss Henshaw. Give me confirmation today.' A crash sounded from the corridor.

One of the carers leaned in through the doorway. ‘John's throwing chairs down the stairwell again!'

Before hanging up Laura shouted into the phone, ‘Today, Miss Henshaw – or lives are going to be lost!'

They were bright kids. Full of energy, too. Victor Brodman had escorted them to the castle at the far end of the island. They'd been interested in the Giant Men of Siluria's Graves, the name given to slit-shaped pits dug into one of the beaches where boats had been kept in years gone by. One pupil had been reluctant to surrender the notion that there weren't really men thirty feet high, striding round the island centuries ago.

‘It's just a colourful name for holes in the beach,' Victor told him. ‘They didn't have the resources to build a proper harbour. But those trenches kept the boats safe when storms struck.'

‘Only they do look like graves for giants.' With a wistful expression Greg photographed them. ‘Any chance I might get shots of the Saban?'

‘They're shy animals, but you might catch a glimpse.'

Miss Hendricks strolled up. ‘Greg, go remind Theo to read the danger signs. He's getting too close to the water.'

Once Greg had jogged away down the beach Miss Hendricks flicked back her raven-black hair. ‘So, Victor, we've seen the wildlife, what's the night life like round here?'

He smiled back. ‘Not what you'd call red-hot.'

‘Really?'

‘There's the Three Impostors pub.'

‘Oh? I wondered what it would be like. But it won't be much fun for me drinking alone.'

‘I'd ask you to join me for a drink tonight, Miss Hendricks, but what about your class?'

‘Oh, they can do with a break from me for a while. The hostel staff will make sure they don't wreck the place, so, what do you say to—?'

‘Miss?'

‘What is it, Greg?'

‘It's Theo.'

‘Oh, Lord, he's not fallen in the river, has he?'

‘No, he's feeding the fishes.'

‘Pardon?'

‘Feeding the fishes,' Greg repeated. ‘Throwing up, puking, vomiting, barfing . . .'

‘Yes, yes, I get the picture.'

‘Lots of others are feeling ill, too, miss. It must be those cheeseburgers.'

‘Damn.' Miss Hendricks' sunny disposition turned all of a sudden cloudy.

‘I'll help you get them back to the hostel,' Victor told her.

She gave a regretful smile. ‘I'm sorry, Victor. It looks as if I might miss that drink tonight.'

‘Some other time. Oh, best stand back. Greg's starting to look off-colour.'

By the time they had got the kids back to the hostel even Miss Hendricks had started to wear a distant expression. When the hostel manager asked if she'd like a coffee she dashed through the door marked bathroom.

‘It looks as if we'll be on mop and bucket duty tonight,' commented the manager as he eyed the hiccuping kids with displeasure.

‘I can stay and give you a hand?' Victor offered.

‘We can manage, thanks anyway.' The man paused. ‘There's one thing you can do.'

‘Fire away.'

‘The Badsworth Lodge visit's back on again. They're arriving tomorrow evening. We make special arrangements for them to stay at the islanders' houses rather than the hostel – it's more homely for them. Would you call at the addresses on this list and let them know when the children will be arriving?'

‘No problem. Are you sure you don't want me to—?'

Gurgling sounds came from the bathroom.

The manager grimaced. ‘I guess it's best to let nature push outside what man put inside, if you see what I mean.'

Victor grinned. ‘You paint a vivid picture, Dave. I'll leave you to it.'

Four

‘Marry a man, not a job.' The carer, an amiable Jamaican woman of fifty, took the towels from Laura as they met in the corridor. ‘I'll get these down to the laundry.'

‘Thanks, Lou. While it's quiet, I'll check if Jay's ready for bed.'

The woman's face became serious. ‘I'm not joking, Laura. You should get some love in your life – I'm talking about man love, not a love affair with this place – otherwise you'll end up haunting the Lodge when you're in your box.'

Laura smiled. ‘I wish I had the time.'

‘Make time, honey. Or you'll wind up like me. Fifty. Two failed marriages. A face like an old prune.'

‘You're here because you're an angel. We couldn't manage without you.'

‘Yes, you could – one day you will. Laura, girl. Don't get left on the shelf, pretty young woman like you. Catch yourself a man.' She sighed. ‘Lord, isn't it ever going to stop raining? We've got a lake for a playground.'

‘I'll think about what you said. About man love.'

‘Plenty of man love. Make it soon, or I'll put a spell on you that'll make you fall for the first man you meet.'

‘Best do that, Lou. It's going to be the only way I'll find romance.'

‘You asked for it, honey. I'm going to put your photo in a bag full of rabbit bones tonight.'

Laura shot Lou a startled look.

Lou chuckled. ‘I can't even cook Jamaican food never mind put a love spell on you. Go put an ad in the paper. “Lovely blonde, thirty, seeks handsome man. GSOH.” Now, I'll drop this off, then my time to watch some television in bed. See, told you I'm a lonely shrivelled old prune!' With a hearty laugh she sailed away down the corridor.