Vengeance Child (6 page)

Chuckling girlishly, she followed her party in the direction of the village.

Laura didn't appear impressed. ‘So you can charm Lou.'

‘Lovely Lou. I'm sure she's an angel in human form.' He paused. ‘Only us three left. You can accept my offer to stay at my sister's farm, or there's always the ferry back to the mainland.' Its motor coughed into life.

Laura scowled. ‘For one night
only
. I'll sort out a place for Jay tomorrow. The children are just overtired.'

He acknowledged the statement with a nod. ‘Follow me.'

For the first time the boy spoke. ‘Where's he taking us?'

When Laura smiled her face turned from winter to spring. ‘To a farm. That's where we'll be staying.'

Victor led the way along the shoreline path. He dropped off holdalls according to the address labels as he went. Behind him the boy talked quietly to Laura, thinking Victor couldn't hear.

‘Laura. I'm frightened.'

‘There's nothing to be frightened of. There might be animals at the farm. You'll like that, won't you?'

Jay's reply was so odd that it kept coming back to Victor for the rest of the night. ‘
I'm not frightened about where we're staying. I'm frightened that I'll do the same to you as I did to Maureen.
'

Seven

The boy known as Jay beamed with pleasure as he fed the goat slices of bread. A group of ten children had walked up here in the morning with Lou to get acquainted the animals and to meet with the island ranger. The children kept clear of Jay. There was none of the name-calling from last night; they just excluded him from their play as if it all came as naturally as
not
sticking your hand into a fire. Lou showed them how to feed the chickens. Victor kept an eye on the goat. When the bread ran out the animal tended to butt the hand that fed it.

‘The goat doesn't frighten you?' Victor asked.

‘He's like me,' Jay spoke casually. ‘He keeps himself to himself.'

‘The other children weren't kind to you last night. That didn't seem fair.'

‘They're scared.' Again, the casual manner. ‘I'm creepy.'

‘You don't seem at all creepy to me.' Victor kept it light-hearted.

‘I sometimes have these episodes.'

Victor didn't pry. ‘Hold the bread by the crust, right at the edge. Wilkes tends not to bother about the difference between fingers and food. Just look what happened to me.' Victor held up a hand with two fingers curled in to make it look as if they'd been bitten off.

Jay laughed. The sun shone down warmly for the first time in a week, and it seemed to bring out a sunnier mood in the child.

‘Jay, what happened to Laura this morning?'

‘She had to talk to the mayor.' His grin broadened. ‘Mayor Wilkes. The goat's called Wilkes. You named the goat after the mayor, didn't you?'

In mock horror Victor threw up his hands. ‘Promise me you won't tell. He'll blow a fuse.'

The boy skipped from subject to subject. ‘Laura isn't always like that. You know, arrrr.' He growled as he hooked his fingers into claws.

‘She's being protective of you all. That makes sense to me.'

‘Yeah, she's nice. Only I had one of my episodes.'

‘Oh.'

‘I took her for a walk . . .' The large, brown eyes glittered.

‘A walk doesn't sound a bad thing to me. I thought we'd all take a walk along the shore later.'

‘Not that kind of walk.' Perspiration formed on the boy's face. ‘I can't help it. I took her to Tod. And I showed her Maureen in that dress she wears in the coffin. Even though I couldn't stop myself I hoped it might make her happy to see Maureen and Tod again. But I'm scared that Laura might be next.' Wilkes licked breadcrumbs from Jay's fingers. The damp rasp of the tongue distracted him from what must have been troubling thoughts. ‘Is that the last slice of bread?'

‘We have to ration Wilkes. He'd eat all day if he could.'

‘We've got someone like that. Ricky could eat chocolate until he explodes.' Jay pulled a camera from his pocket. ‘Will you take my photo with the goat?'

‘I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to get a couple of shots while we've got the bread.'

‘I saved pennies in a jar for the camera.' The boy's mood lightened. ‘It took ten months, three weeks, six days.'

‘Your commitment is a credit to you. I'll crouch down as low as I can. Hold the bread higher so Wilkes lifts his head. That's it. Hero shot!' Victor took a couple of photographs as the goat curled its pink tongue around the crust. ‘Superb. I'll ask Lou if we can put these in the farm's album.'

‘You won't be allowed.' He chuckled as the goat nibbled his shirt cuff.

‘Oh?'

‘I'm supposed to be a secret.'

Though Victor's curiosity was teased he knew better than to pry into the personal lives of the children who came here, especially from such a sensitive establishment as Badsworth Lodge. ‘That's the last of the bread. We best get Wilkes back into the pen or he's going to gobble the shirt off your back.'

Jay frowned. ‘Why does the island do that?'

‘Do what?'

‘Make things different inside your head.'

‘It's very relaxing here.' Victor grinned. ‘Sometimes too relaxing. When a warm wind blows from the south you could fall asleep on your feet. It's inspirational, too. There are a couple of islanders who write scripts for—'

‘Ghorlan. I can take you to see Ghorlan.' Tremors ran through Victor. ‘Come with me to Ghorlan.'

Victor recoiled. ‘What made you say that?' He snapped out the words with an equal measure of shock and anger.

The boy's eyes glistened. ‘I told you. I'm creepy.'

Victor took a deep breath. ‘You're not creepy.' He tried to put Jay at ease again. ‘Put your arm around Wilkes. I'll get another photo.'

‘You hate me.'

‘I don't hate you. What you said surprised me, that's all. Now put your arm round his neck. OK. On the count of—'

‘Hey! Stop that!' Victor turned to see Laura Parris bearing down on him with a furious expression. ‘No one gave you permission.'

‘I'm just taking Jay's photo with the goat.'

‘You don't have the authority to photograph Jay.'

‘It was Jay who asked,' Victor protested in bewilderment. ‘There seemed no harm—'

‘I'll be the judge of whether or not there's any harm.'

‘There's never been a problem in the past. Lou didn't mind last year.'

‘It's my professional duty of care to mind.'

‘OK. Not a problem.'

‘Jay,' she said in gentler tones. ‘Go join Lou. I'll be right over.' The boy obediently trotted across the yard to where children fed the chickens.

Victor held out the camera. ‘Jay, you forgot something.'

Laura snapped, ‘I'll take it.' Her face flushed a fierce red. Shrugging, he handed her the camera. Once Jay was out of earshot she hissed at Victor, ‘Which paper's got you in its pocket?'

‘Paper? I don't—'

‘A newspaper would pay you a fortune for a photograph.'

‘Hey, Nurse Parris! I don't know about any newspaper. I'm the island ranger. I do it to the best of my ability, that includes respecting the privacy of my visitors.'

‘And I respect the children I care for. They deserve my protection.'

‘So you're protecting them from me?'

‘Yes, you bastard!'

His jaw dropped. ‘Pardon me? Bastard?'

‘I'm sick of every rat who finds where Jay is living and thinks they can earn easy money by selling his photograph.'

‘You're not listening to me, Nurse Parris. I don't know what's so special about Jay, why the press are interested in him or why you think you're so high and mighty you can speak to me like I've committed the crime of the century.'

‘When I'm protecting those kids I've got every right.'

‘The right to be permanently angry, foul-mouthed, judgemental, always bawling everyone out?' He paused as he noticed something in her expression. ‘Wait, you're not angry, are you?'

‘Go to hell.'

‘You're not angry. It's fear – you're frightened.'

‘You're saying I'm scared? Who of? The mayor? Billy goat gruff here? You?'

Victor rubbed the goat's back. Angry shouting made it jittery. ‘You are frightened.' He lowered his voice. ‘No, not of me. You're scared of Jay.'

She began to walk away.

‘Nurse Parris. I'm right, aren't I?'

She froze mid-step. Slowly she turned to face him. From her expression he sensed her shift in mood. He continued. ‘I don't know exactly what's bothering you. You may never tell me. But can I confess a problem that's bothering me so much right now that, quite frankly, I want to go to my room and gulp down half a dozen whiskies?' He rubbed the rough fur on the goat's neck.

Her eyes flicked from his face to where Jay stood near the children. ‘A confession?'

‘Yes, a confession.'

In a quiet voice she said, ‘OK, go on.'

‘A few minutes ago Jay offered to take me to Ghorlan.'

‘Ghorlan? I don't know where Ghorlan is.'

‘Ghorlan's a person, not a place.'

‘You mean Jay offered to walk with you to find Ghorlan?' The colour drained from her face. ‘Mr Brodman, who is Ghorlan?'

‘My wife. Ten years ago she drowned in the river.'

He saw the way she reacted, as if she'd clumsily hurt someone. ‘I'm sorry.'

‘I didn't mean you to feel bad about it. I guess there's no delicate way to explain how my wife died, even if it was a decade ago.'

‘But she and you must have been so young when you got married.'

‘Both twenty-three. We'd been married fifteen months, when . . . ah.' He stopped himself from going into more detail. ‘That's by the by. Jay offered to show me Ghorlan. What bothers me is how does Jay, who I only met yesterday, know about my late wife?'

‘Victor.'

‘Nurse Parris.'

‘We seem to have got off to a bad start.' She gave a ghost of a smile. ‘And please call me Laura.'

He nodded. ‘Laura. We've been at cross-purposes, haven't we?'

‘A downright muck up, if you ask me.' Her face became serious again. ‘Victor. Now for my confession.'

‘Oh?'

‘I think I must be going mad.'

‘Why?'

‘You've had a conversation with Jay. He knew Ghorlan was in your life. When he said her name did it feel like you were losing your grip, and you could feel yourself slipping into some big, dark hole in the ground?' Her eyes were glittery. ‘Because, sometimes, when I talk with Jay, that's how it feels to me.'

From the chicken enclosure came a shout. Lou called Victor while pointing at her own watch.

He checked the time. ‘We should have set off ten minutes ago.' Quickly, he ushered the goat into its compound. ‘Look. Can we talk about this later?'

‘How about tonight?'

‘OK, meet me at the village pub at eight. The Three Impostors – you can't miss it. You look as if you need a friendly ear.'

She held out her hand. ‘So we agree to press reset button and start at the beginning.'

Smiling, he shook her hand. ‘Laura. I'd like nothing more.'

Eight

Victor Brodman walked alongside Lou as they followed the path to the castle at the southern tip of the island. A tiny boy accompanied them. His hair was a mass of blond curls, yet his face seemed far older than his proud boast that he was ‘eight years, three months'. Behind them, the rest of the group, about twenty in all, their ages ranging from eight to sixteen. One teenager slouched along. His miserable face said it all; as one of the oldest from Badsworth Lodge he'd been detailed to help look after the group. An adult carer guarded the tail of the crocodile.

From the mop of curls the adult-looking face peered out at Victor. For some reason Victor found himself reminded of a high-court judge just about to gravely announce a life sentence.

‘Victor?' said the boy.

‘Yes, Archer.'

‘What's the river called?'

‘The Severn.'

‘So there are at least six of them?'

‘No, the Severn is spelt different to the number. It's S-E-V-E-
R
-N.'

‘I see.' The tiny blond boy walked with his hands clasped behind his back. ‘Why's that, then?'

‘Two thousand years ago the Romans invaded England. They gave places names in their own language. They called this river Sabrina after a magical woman. Down through the years the name Sabrina eventually became Severn.'

‘I see. My name is Archer. An old kind of soldier who fired a bow. Have you ever fired a bow and arrow, Victor?'

‘A few times. My father made me one when I was your age. The arrows weren't pointed. Even so, I broke the glass in the greenhouse door. My dad took the bow and arrows away. He said I could have them when I was more responsible.' Victor smiled. ‘I never saw the bow again. Maybe he still thinks I'll only go and break more windows with it.'

‘My dad's dead.'

‘I'm sorry to hear that.'

‘He stole money from a bank, sold lots of drugs, cheated his friends so –' Archer gave a little shrug – ‘they shot him.' Then he added cheerfully, ‘I watched them do it. Blam-blam.'