Behind Closed Doors (Season One: Book 7) (Jessica Daniel) (6 page)

Next to the gate was a large stone pillar with a speaker, push-button and round hole in which Jessica could make out the lens of a camera. The gate only came up to her chest and she could have
climbed it if she wanted to but figured that if she was going to go through with this, she should do things as properly as possible.

As the taxi roared away into the distance, sputtering cloudy exhaust fumes into the otherwise fresh air, the twittering of the birds overhead sent Jessica spiralling back to that day at her
parents’ house where her father collapsed.

The first tile to tumble in what had become a crescendo of dominos falling.

Jessica blinked rapidly, sensing this was her crossroads. Behind her there was the life she had; on the other side of the gates, a chance to start putting things back together. She was alone but
then she had to be; as Cole had told her, sometimes the only person who can help you is yourself.

She reached forward and pressed the button. At first nothing happened but then she heard a gentle whirr of the camera. She stepped backwards, ensuring she would be completely in shot, and then
the gate made a loud clunking sound, swinging open a fraction.

She stepped through, closing the gate behind her and began walking along the wide driveway. On either side there were huge patches of lawn, trimmed in tidy straight lines with the smell of fresh
grass drifting on the breeze. The drive arched up and it was only when Jessica reached the peak that she could see the majesty of the house far in front of her. It was everything Charley had said
but more: a massive stately home carved from butterscotch-coloured stone set among beautiful green meadows, two ponds at the front and a long driveway so straight that it could have been laid with
a set-square. The symmetry was perfect, as if whoever planned it had created one half and then held a mirror to it, telling the builders to copy what was already there.

Jessica continued walking, guessing the driveway was at least half a mile long. In the distance off to the side was a wooded area, on the other a tall wooden fence on the far side of the lawn.
The nearer she got to the house, the quieter it became until it was as close to silence as she could imagine. In an instant, the serenity was broken by the gentle tinkling of rain.

Jessica stood still for a moment, enjoying it washing over her as the drops bounced into the pools on either side. She noticed the raised fountains weren’t running but most of the clatter
came from the raindrops bouncing from the large circle of tarmac in front of the house for cars to turn around. Not that there were any vehicles in sight; even the minibus Zipporah had spoken about
was nowhere to be seen.

There were three storeys of windows, ten on either side of a towering wooden front door at least three times Jessica’s height. Gargoyles clung to the roof ledge, with each window frame
decorated with delicately created stone flowers. Jessica stood in front of the door, trying to take everything in as water dribbled down her back. Whatever horrors people believed might be
happening inside, there was still something indelibly beautiful about the outside, even with gathering dark clouds overhead.

As the door remained closed, Jessica glanced from side to side for a knocker, doorbell or anything that might help her to attract the attention of someone inside. From a distance the windows
seemed normal but up close, they were tinted in such a way that they mirrored the outside. She felt watched but Jessica couldn’t see anything or anyone on the inside.

She climbed the three stone steps until she was up against the door. She ran her palm across the sanded wood, sensing the thickness of it. She tried knocking but it was as if the door absorbed
the sound, muffling and killing it. There was no way anyone inside would have noticed unless they were specifically listening. After getting no response from what she assumed was a doorbell,
Jessica tried peering through the closest window. The tint reflected nothing but her own face and yet she still had a sense that someone was watching her, examining the way she moved and judging
the choices she made. Perhaps waiting to see if she was going to turn and walk away? Maybe this was the first of the assessments Zipporah had spoken of; a test to see if she actually wanted to be
there, or if she would turn and leave at the first sign of adversity.

Jessica retreated until she was in the centre of the turning circle and sat on the damp ground, letting the rain flow over her. The tempo of the drops increased in an instant, a cacophony of
sound echoing around her as Jessica sat unmoving, staring at the front door. She started to shiver as the rain soaked through her clothing. Her hair stuck to her scalp and each time she blinked,
water dribbled into her eyes.

Puddles were forming on either side. She rarely wore a watch anyway but with anything external banned, Jessica had no way of knowing how long she had been there.

Eventually the door creaked open a sliver, held in place for a few moments before being pulled open fully. Zipporah was standing there, one hand on her hip.

Her words were barely audible over the rain. ‘I’m glad you came, Jessica.’

Jessica stood slowly, weighed down by the water drenching her clothes. Zipporah was staring at her, a gentle smile on her face as she held the door open.

Inside the house, Jessica struggled to take everything in. The ceiling was so high, she felt dizzy looking up. The hard marble floor echoed from her footsteps and the sound of water dripping
from her. Behind, Zipporah closed the door with a loud bang, sliding a heavy bolt into place.

Directly in front of Jessica was an enormous painting showing a man with a curly brown beard and bushy eyebrows. Sitting cross-legged on what looked like a throne, he was staring thoughtfully
into the distance.

‘That’s Moses,’ Zipporah said softly, standing next to Jessica. ‘You’ll meet him soon. He will change your life.’

The painting was roughly double life size, making Moses look like a giant. Jessica had read the small amount they had on him in their files and knew he was also in his late thirties, barely
older than her, the same age as Zipporah. He seemed young and old at the same time, the beard implying wisdom, his green eyes sparkling with youth. Even from his image, Jessica could sense a
magnetism, a natural charisma that you either had or you didn’t.

‘Come, let’s get you dry.’

Zipporah strode away quickly leading Jessica through the house. The corridors were lined with wooden panels that reached halfway up. Paintings and photographs were placed at regular intervals.
Jessica wanted to stop and look but Zipporah was moving so quickly that she practically had to run to keep up. She could sense other people nearby, footsteps around corners, the low murmuring of
voices, but she didn’t see anyone.

The further she moved into the house, the darker it became. The overhead light was dim, with no windows opening onto the corridors. Eventually, Zipporah stopped, holding a door open and
beckoning Jessica inside.

‘This is our clothes store,’ Zipporah said as Jessica entered to see rails of dresses, skirts, trousers and tops. ‘We make everything on site. We do have to buy the material
but one of the things we aim to do is teach people to be as self-sufficient as they can. We have some incredibly skilled craftspeople on site, almost everyone learning from scratch to be able to
create things like this.’

Many of the colours were plain, perhaps even uninspiring, but that was the type of thing Jessica chose to wear usually anyway. The dresses were cut sensibly, no bottom-hugging hemlines, no
plunging necklines. The other clothes were similar too; old-fashioned designs, straightforward colours.

‘You can take your pick,’ Zipporah said, handing Jessica a towel.

She closed the door behind them, watching Jessica carefully. She didn’t say it but there was a clear instruction for Jessica to get changed now, in front of her where she could see if she
was trying to smuggle in something she shouldn’t.

Jessica unclipped her jeans but had to yank them down as they were stuck to her skin. She dropped her thin jumper next to them on the ground, forcing herself not to shiver as she stood in her
underwear and began to towel her body, all under Zipporah’s unmoving eye. As she rubbed the area below her stomach, she couldn’t help but shudder, hoping the other woman had not
noticed.

Deliberately not looking towards the door, Jessica took a knee-length skirt from the rail and a light blue shirt made of thick cotton, finishing off with a wide leather belt to keep the clothes
tight to her thinning body. She swapped her flat shoes for a pair that was almost identical.

When she was fully dressed, Zipporah picked up her old clothes and shoes from the floor, bundling them under her arm without a word.

She reopened the door. ‘We eat together every morning and evening. You’ll be able to meet people then. I’ll take you to your room for now.’

Zipporah moved quickly again, up two wide flights of stairs that were lined with thick, luxurious ruby carpet, with more paintings and framed photographs placed around the walls. Jessica
continued towelling her hair as they went along until she felt almost dry. More corridors, more darkness until eventually they stopped outside an oak-panelled door.

Jessica handed Zipporah the towel.

‘If you ever have any sort of problem with anything, please come and see me. Moses is a father to everyone, which I suppose makes me the mother.’

‘Okay.’

‘I know we spoke out on the streets but I should remind you about the few rules we have here. No electrical goods are permitted – including phones. We keep this house as secure as we
can, not to imprison anyone as it were, but to keep out those who may wish to cause us harm.’

‘Who might want to hurt anyone here?’

Jessica thought of the heavy bolt across the front door. So far, she hadn’t seen any other way out. Zipporah narrowed her eyes, weighing Jessica up. Just as Jessica was thinking she should
have stayed silent, the woman answered. ‘There are many people in the outside world who do not understand what we are trying to do here. Our only commitment is to you as people; to help make
you better individuals and to keep you safe.’

Jessica still didn’t know exactly what they were trying to achieve there but didn’t want to push her luck. She nodded in acceptance.

‘We also do not allow drugs or alcohol within these walls,’ Zipporah continued. ‘Any breach of these policies will automatically lead to you being expelled. We expect everybody
to respect each other. Aside from if you come with us for recruitment days, we also do not permit our residents to mix with outsiders.’

Her tone was steady but not overbearing, like a teacher laying down ground rules, as opposed to a headmaster telling off a naughty child. She smiled again. ‘Is all of that acceptable to
you? It’s for the good of everyone.’

Jessica nodded.

‘Okay, let’s introduce you to your roommate.’

Zipporah pushed open the door. Even though it was still grey outside, the bedroom was bathed in light, a tall, wide pane of glass overlooking the driveway she had walked down. Sitting on a
four-poster bed in front of her was Heather, reading a Bible.

She glanced towards Jessica, smiling and putting the book down before standing and opening her arms to offer a hug. ‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said.

Jessica embraced her but the woman was even thinner than she was. Heather held her so tightly, clawing at her back, that it quickly became uncomfortable. Jessica patted her gently, wanting to be
released. When she eventually was, she saw a wetness around Heather’s eyes.

‘I hoped you would join us,’ she added.

In the doorway, Zipporah was smiling approvingly. She indicated a second four-poster bed and then a second door. ‘This is yours,’ she added. ‘There is a private bathroom you
both share through there. We’ll bring you up some more clothes and a change of underwear sometime soon.’

Jessica was genuinely impressed. She had never seen such luxury, let alone had a chance to live in it. Heather was on her own bed again, still beaming. Jessica stepped towards the window,
peering down at the drenched landscape.

‘I’ll leave you to get to know each other. Heather will give you the tour,’ Zipporah said, before adding ominously: ‘But please remember we must all submit to
Moses’s rules.’

As she left, the door clicked into place, leaving Jessica to notice there was no lock.

The bathroom was as big as Jessica’s living room, with a vast spacious tub that could fit three or four people comfortably, a full-length mirror and gleaming porcelain
taps, all on top of a speckled, spotless marble floor. As with the main bedroom door, there was no lock, leaving Jessica uneasy at the lack of privacy.

‘We’re expected to keep everything clean and tidy,’ Heather explained.

‘What else do you do?’

Heather smiled but she seemed tired. Her eyes didn’t have the same sense of longing as before but there was something not right about her, something Jessica couldn’t place.
‘I’ll show you. I’m sure Moses will assign you somewhere to work after he has spoken to you.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Everyone who comes here meets with Moses at some point early on. Zip might have invited you but the final say on who stays and goes always comes down to Moses.’

‘Are many people asked to leave?’

‘I don’t think so but then Zip wouldn’t invite someone to join us if she didn’t feel they were going to fit in.’

‘How long have you been here?’

Heather’s features, so pretty when she smiled, curled into outrage. Although it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, Jessica knew she had asked the wrong thing.

‘Sorry,’ she added.

Heather shook her head dismissively. ‘Come on, I’ll show you around.’

As Heather led her down the stairs, Jessica noticed large crosses above the overhangs. Heather had been reading a Bible but Zipporah had never mentioned anything religious to her, instead
focusing on Moses and his own teachings. Their own names were biblical, of course, but Jessica was struggling to see the link.