Voices in the Dark (26 page)

I fell behind. He had a way of half glancing over his shoulder that made me constantly think he would discover me. Citadel Street was deserted anyway; I could not lose sight of him here. It was a dismal place tonight. The homeless and the dispossessed had set up camps in the empty houses. In one of them, a brazier was burning and twenty people or more stood huddled around it. A blackened painting still hung over the mantelpiece on the exposed
back wall. Leo stopped in front of our old building and glanced up at the boarded windows. Then he tried the door. He went around to the side and struggled with that one too. He struggled for a long time, then gave up and rested his head against the red cross on the wood.

When he set out again, his steps were more definite, and I had to jog to keep up with him. The waste ground that surrounded Citadel Street was unlit and treacherous. We came out at last in an alleyway beside an inn. Leo shrank away from the lights of the windows and paused for a moment to light a cigarette.

In that moment, I heard someone else move. I did not dare to turn. But I suddenly knew that I was not the only one following Leo. Carefully, I edged into the doorway of the inn and pretended to be struggling with the buttons of my coat, as though to fasten it more tightly against the cold. In the corner of my vision, I could see a man in blue. He had not seen me. He was beside the nearest wall, with a gun raised in his hand.

I moved before I knew what was happening. I caught hold of Leo and pulled him through the doorway of the inn at the same moment the man in blue fired.

People shrieked and turned over their chairs as we fell into the inn. And then something happened that I swear saved both our lives. A group of men in red uniforms, sitting smoking in the back corner of the inn, got to their feet. ‘What’s going on?’ said the tallest, taking out a pistol.

‘It’s the Imperial Order,’ I said. ‘The man out there had a gun—’

The police picked up their rifles and stormed out into the street. Leo just lay where he was, staring at the false chandeliers that hung from the beams. ‘Papa?’ I said. ‘Are you hurt?’

He turned over and saw me properly. He said nothing, just breathed fast and coughed and searched about him for a cigarette. Then he said, ‘Anselm, in God’s name, I told you not to come with me.’

‘He’s vanished,’ said the tall officer, appearing at the door again. ‘Do you have any idea who that man was?’

‘Someone from the Imperial Order,’ I said. ‘He had the uniform.’

‘Did you recognize him?’

‘I didn’t see his face.’

‘Please raise your hands,’ said another officer, training his rifle on us and squinting through his gold spectacles as though to intimidate us more completely. The inn had emptied by the other door; it was remarkable how quickly everyone had fled the scene. Even the barman had shut himself up in the back room. ‘Please raise your hands,’ the officer said again. ‘Let me see your papers.’

We had papers, but we never carried them. ‘We don’t have them with us,’ I said. ‘They are back at the shop.’

‘Names, then,’ said the officer with the spectacles.

Leo raised his hand to stop me from speaking and got slowly to his feet. ‘He had nothing to do with it,’ he said. ‘And I’m Leonard North.’

‘Leonard North of the North family?’ said the officer. ‘Aldebaran’s relative?’

‘Yes,’ said Leo.

‘Then we need to talk to you. You are supposed to have signed up for National Service. If you don’t come quietly now, you risk prosecution.’

‘But there are hundreds of other people—’ I began.

‘Shh,’ said Leo. ‘It’s fine; I’ll come. But one thing – you have to promise me.’

‘What is it?’ said the officer wearily. He was glancing at his unfinished glass of spirits on the table.

‘It has to be far away,’ said Leo. ‘Do you understand? And they can’t know. The Imperial Order can’t know. They are following me and threatening my family, and I’m afraid they are going to try something. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

‘We’ll see about that,’ said the officer. They were putting on their jackets now and hastily finishing their abandoned drinks. ‘We will escort you to your house,’ said the officer. ‘You can collect a few things and leave by the next ship west, to the munitions factory on Holy Island. We will ensure the matter of the Imperial Order is looked into.’

‘Munitions factory?’ I said.

But Leo just raised his hand again and nodded.

‘Quickly please,’ said the tall officer, in what he must have hoped was a kind voice. ‘We are not supposed to be on duty, and the police have more than enough to do as it is.’

I could not speak to Leo; the officers divided us all the way back to Trader’s Row. At the door, they hesitated.

‘My wife is expecting a baby,’ said Leo with a strange kind of calm. ‘I don’t want her to be worried by anything.’

‘We will wait outside the door,’ said the officer. ‘You can go inside and collect your things. We will then escort you to the harbour.’

Leo went in ahead of me and closed the door behind us and leaned against it. I could hear Jasmine shrieking with laughter at some game in the living room above. The kind chaos of the back room seemed like the remains of someone else’s life. ‘I told you not to come,’ Leo said at last.

‘He was going to shoot you!’ I said. ‘If I hadn’t been there—’

‘Anselm, maybe it would have been better.’

‘Don’t be bloody ridiculous!’ I didn’t know why I was angry with him, but I was. ‘Papa, he wanted to kill you! He wanted to—’

‘Listen,’ he said, still in the same calm voice, as though he had heard nothing I’d said. ‘After I leave, pack your things and go to your grandmother’s. Tell Doctor Keller that he can rent out the shop. You will all have to stay there until—’

‘No. You can’t just order us to pack up our whole life.’

‘Listen to me!’ said Leo, losing his composure. ‘Anselm, in the name of God, just listen to me!’ Jasmine’s laughter faltered upstairs. ‘Sixteen years ago,’ Leo whispered, ‘I shot a man. He was an important man in Lucien’s government, and people know what I did. The Imperial Order know; they have a price on my head and it’s thousands and thousands of crowns. When I told you I was involved with the resistance, I wasn’t honest. I couldn’t tell you the full truth. But I’m telling you now.’

I stared at him. I could say nothing.

‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘I have to, because if they take control of this country – if they find me – we will all be in danger. We will all be wanted criminals. You and Maria and Jasmine, even the baby. Anselm, there is nothing we can do. Don’t make this harder. I’m not Maria’s husband; I’m not your father. If I leave now, it will be better for all of you, and you can pretend you were never connected to me, and maybe it will be all right.’

‘But, Papa …’ I said, and could not go on.

‘Anselm,’ he whispered. ‘Please, just help me. I don’t think I can do this otherwise.’

He turned and started up the stairs. I followed him. There was nothing else to do. Jasmine came running to the
door when we arrived, still shrieking with laughter. She was wearing my mother’s heeled shoes and best dress, with rouge daubed liberally across her cheeks. ‘Look at me,’ she said. ‘I’m a rich lady.’

‘Very smart,’ said Leo.

My mother was on the sofa with her eyes closed, but she opened them now and smiled and reached out her hand to Leo.

‘Are you all right?’ he said, taking it gently.

‘Just tired. The little duchesses were a handful today. I swear I am more a police officer than a governess to them half the time. Leo, your hand is like ice. Where have you been?’ She sat up and pushed back her hair. ‘Jasmine and I think Stirling Harold for the baby. Or Stirling Julian. What do you say?’

Leo said nothing, just gripped her hand in both of his own. Her face darkened. ‘What is wrong?’ she said. ‘You both look as though you’ve met a ghost.’

‘It’s nothing,’I said. My voice didn’t sound right and only made them stare at me more anxiously. Leo went down to the shop and brought up an old suitcase we had never been able to sell.

My mother was on her feet in a second. ‘What is this?’ she said. ‘Leo? Answer me.’

Leo said nothing, just began throwing things into the case. Jasmine was the first to understand. She stared up at me, her face serious now behind her bizarre make-up. Then she ran into the bedroom and began pulling the things out of the case. ‘No!’ she said. ‘You’re not leaving, Papa! You’re not leaving!’

‘Stop it,’ said Leo quietly. ‘Jasmine, just let me do this.’

‘No! I won’t let you! You’re not coming back, are you? You’re going away for ever.’

‘Just let me pack my case.’

‘No, I won’t!’ She took out his clothes and threw them across the room. His shirts fell in the fireplace, sending soot flying.

‘What is wrong with you, Jasmine?’ Leo shouted. There was a silence. He knelt on the floor, one boot in his hand and the other somewhere out of his reach under the bed. Then he started to cry.

‘No,’ said my mother. ‘Leo, you swore to me that you wouldn’t leave.’

‘I can’t help it,’ he said. ‘It’s the police – they have called me up for National Service. I tried to say no—’

‘You can tell them that your wife is expecting a baby. You can, because I checked on the way back from work last week, when you were talking like this before, and I don’t see why—’

‘You’re not my wife,’ said Leo. ‘That’s why.’

‘No, Leo, damn you!’ She slammed the case closed and stared at him over it, her eyes fierce and wild.

‘Maria, please. I don’t have any choice. Don’t make this harder.’

We all sounded like we were acting some tragic play. We were unequal to this, and no one could find the right words. Leo pulled the case away from my mother and went on crying. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and shoved his old army boots and his Sunday shirt into the case, then the scarf Jasmine had knitted him.

‘No!’ said Jasmine. ‘You can’t have that scarf if you’re leaving. You’re not my papa any more!’

She caught hold of the end and tried to pull it away from him. He tried to hold onto it, stupidly, and it ripped in two, the wool unravelling. ‘I hate you!’ shouted Jasmine, kicking
him. ‘I hate you, and I don’t care if you’re crying. You’re a bastard. I wish you’d go straight to hell!’

‘Jasmine,’ I said, trying to hold her back. ‘Jasmine, it’s not his fault. Stop it.’

My mother was crying now, but she refused to let Leo see that. She stood against the door frame and swiped angrily at her tears. I knelt there with my arms around Jasmine and let her struggle. But maybe she was the only one who realized it properly. He was going to do this, pack all his things into that suitcase with the broken clasp and walk away into the dark, and none of us could stop it.

As if from a hundred miles away, I heard a voice on the stairs. ‘The door was open, so I came up,’ my grandmother called. ‘Maria? What is going on up here?’

She appeared at the top of the stairs and took one glance at our tear-streaked faces and the suitcase between us. ‘Heavens,’ she said. ‘Is he leaving, then?’

Leo began trying to fasten the suitcase shut with an old belt. My grandmother went to my mother in the doorway, throwing dark glances at him. ‘Didn’t I always say?’ she burst out eventually. ‘Maria, didn’t I always tell you Leonard was no good?’

I was still struggling with Jasmine, and I lost hold of my temper. ‘It’s not his fault, you bloody-minded old cow!’ I told her.

There was a silence while she puffed herself up with indignation. ‘You’re just like your father,’ she said then, very steadily. ‘You’re just exactly like your father. I hope you know that, Anselm.’Then all hell broke loose.

Leo turned without looking at any of us and ran down to the back room to fetch the rest of his things. Jasmine began wailing in earnest, and my mother knelt down and
put her arms around her. I edged out of the doorway and down the stairs. Leo was working fast, piling everything into his case in the dark.

‘It’s not justice,’ I said. ‘It’s not justice that they are chasing you.’

‘It is justice,’ said Leo.

‘Who was he?’ I said. ‘This man who you …’

The word
shot
rested in the silence between us. Leo did not answer. The silence fell heavily as he fastened the belt around the case and tried to pull it tight. He struggled to light a cigarette, but his hands were shaking too badly. He crumpled the whole box suddenly and threw it at the wall.

‘Papa, tell me it will be all right,’ I said.

‘It will be all right,’ he said, still crying. ‘Everything will be all right. You have to have faith, Anselm.’

‘Is that all?’ I said. ‘This country is falling apart. You’ve just told me you’re a wanted criminal. When will we see you again if war breaks out?’

‘Anselm, please …’ He began climbing the stairs again slowly, dragging the case behind him.

‘What is this?’ I said. ‘Goodbye for ever, or what?’

‘I don’t know.’ Snow thudded against the window. It was coming down like the end of the world, as if it wanted to extinguish everything. He turned and looked at me. ‘Anselm,’ he said. ‘I have loved you more than I could ever love a son of my own. And I will, after I go. Even if I die. Love is stronger than anything; it never lets you go. I don’t deserve you – not any of you. This is my own fault. I always had it coming to me.’

My mother was too angry or too unhappy to kiss him, so he turned away without saying goodbye. Jasmine wailed and tried to drag him back as he left. My mother just stood
crying in the doorway. He went down the stairs like that, Jasmine clinging to the handle of his suitcase all the way, her nose running and her hair dishevelled, screaming at him not to go. At the bottom of the steps, the suitcase broke. Everything fell out onto the floor and scattered.

I stepped forward. All his Harold North books were there. ‘You can’t take those,’ I said.

He tried to gather them up, shoving
The Golden Reign
into his pocket and turning to pick up the others. Jasmine began gathering them, too, clutching them to her chest.

‘No,’ she wailed. ‘No, I won’t let you have them. I won’t let you go.’

He tried to pull them out of her arms, then gave up. ‘Keep them for me,’ he said. ‘Both of you.’