Elysium. Part One. (7 page)
‘The worst case scenario being?’ Priya asked.
‘The authorities following in your footsteps, of course.’
‘And by ‘the authorities’ I suppose you mean the British military?
‘Or constabulary.’
‘Why would they come after us? I’m from Australia, Selina’s a citizen of New Zealand. We were travelling illegally on an unauthorized vessel. If we’d been detected the military would have sunk us without a second thought! What on earth makes you think they would be interested in us now?’
Semilion took an old tin from his pocket and began rolling a cigarette. ‘The people in this community have survived unnoticed for three generations because they’ve followed our procedures. They’ve had it taught to them since childhood; I’m not going to break away from it just because it doesn’t suit you. I’ve got the bigger picture to think about. I can’t have the community thinking it’s acceptable to simply pick and choose which policies to adhere to, we’d be uncovered in no time.’ He watched them both for a short while through the haze of smoke. They understood that he was deliberating the severity of what was to follow.
He dropped the cigarette on the floorboards and crushed it under the heel of his boot. ‘There’s nothing else to say. I have to put you in the cells. Overnight, at least.’
‘I don’t think so!’ Priya barked. She thrust him a rigid finger. ‘If you come anywhere near me I’m going to break your teeth.’
Selina sat on the corner of a table, hoping she might be forgotten if she refrained from the altercation.
‘It won’t be for long,’ Semilion hissed, not wishing the entire village to hear. ‘Just for the night, so people can see I’ve not strayed from policy.’
‘What kind of policy is it to shut us in a cell?’
Selina answered, ‘He already said. As leverage.’
Priya thought about it for a moment, and then laughed. ‘Are you serious? God! Do you know how much the world has changed in the last decades? Have you seen them fight to try and piece back a semblance of normality?’
‘Of course, we know what’s happening out…’
‘I don’t think you do, not if you think holding two criminals’ hostage would give you any kind of control. They wouldn’t think twice about killing every last person here, including us, if they thought you had something they wanted, which, if you’re even living here, they obviously do. They don’t negotiate. They don’t waste time weighing up pros and cons, they simply take the shortest road to getting what they want!’
Semilion had coloured, though with embarrassment or consternation it wasn’t entirely clear. He liked to think he was educated in the current affairs of the outside world, had thought John Camberwell’s monthly shipping report afforded him sufficient knowledge. When John and his wife returned every six months they supplied him with detailed commentaries, newspapers, magazines and audio files of worldwide events, and yet he now felt he knew nothing.
His grandfather had made him listen to the reports regarding the outbreak of carnivora flu, and had taught him the importance of understanding the past when preparing for the future. He had watched the initial footage of Libyan hospitals strewn with the sick, the violent riots of Algeria, Chad and Egypt as the virus spilled across the compass, and the resulting bone-fields the world over. He had grown accustomed to the images of bloated pustules and buboes from an early age, and had thought the world outside his own community was a decaying wasteland of hollow sockets and grinning skulls. It wasn’t until his grandfather died that he learnt that the world had continued beyond the Great Pathogen; formally he had assumed that Mortehoe and Woolacombe were the last habitable places on earth, but his father had shown him the world as it was, the unrest that had gripped humanity in an attempt to seek answers and mete retribution on an unaccountable, non-existent enemy.
He opened the door and said a few words to Baron, then waited in the doorway until his return.
‘What’s the rope for, then?’ Priya asked, folding her arms.
‘I know it seems drastic, but for all I know you haven’t told a single truth. We’ll decide in the morning whether you’re simply castaways or something else.’
Priya was about to step forward; Selina could hear her breath hard close to her. She began to say, ‘No, wait just a...’
Selina reached out and touched her back. ‘Priya, don’t make it worse. We should do what he says and get through this as quickly as possible. Like he says, in the morning he’ll find out what we’re saying is true and he’ll let us go,’ she turned to Semilion. ‘Right?’
He nodded, and looked expectantly at Selina, as though she might hold her hands out to be tied by way of example. Her heart sank, but she stepped forward as Priya stared at her incredulously. ‘I thought we were trying to avoid being thrown in jail,’ she sighed, offering her wrists also.
Eryn called on Boen early in the morning. Her mother had sent her across the village to fetch empty bottles, and on the way she called in on the Waeshenbach household. The house was close to the shore as the family was one of two responsible for catching seafood for the community. She stepped through a decaying gate and passed two small boats stored beneath a camouflaged shelter, over which grew vines and trailing moss. The boats bobbed quietly, touching one another with a rhythmic grind as the tide lapped at them placidly.
Boen’s mother answered the door and smiled anxiously at Eryn. She welcomed her in, eager for news. Though their families had their differences, Eryn had always secretly admired Samantha, who, for a woman who primarily spent her day to her elbows gutting fish, always smelt of fresh lavender.
‘So who are those women?’ Samantha said, dragging Eryn into the kitchen and thrusting her into a seat. ‘Have you spoken to them?’
‘No, I… Pa wouldn’t talk about them when they returned from the cells, and this morning he and Baron went back at first light to question them. Ma and me have been sent around the village to tell everyone not to worry though, and that we should get on with things as normal. There’s a council at midday. I think everyone’s going to that.’
Samantha stared into the middle-distance for a moment, as though she were actively pushing back the fears that had kept her awake all night. ‘That’s something, at least.’ She said, distantly, before brightening.
Did you hear Dawn gave birth to a boy?’
‘Yes, that was the other thing. I’ve been sent to pass the news around the village, but it seems everybody knows already.’
‘Oh! It’s such good news! Especially after what she’s been through. She deserves a little boy.’
‘They’ve named him William.’
‘After Reighn’s grandfather? How sweet!’ She poured a tankard of water and leant forward surreptitiously. ‘Who’d you think they are then, these women?’
‘I don’t know…’ Eryn said slowly, and it was true, though she couldn’t help but think that with Kelly being killed by an outsider, the women’s appearance couldn’t be a good omen.
Samantha heard the uncertainty in her tone. ‘Do you fancy a tea, love? It’s not very warm, mind.’
‘Thank you, but no, I really came to see…’
‘You will, won’t you? I boiled some water before dawn. I couldn’t sleep, what with…’ She stood and fetched a thermos. ‘Doesn’t hold the heat like it used to,’ she explained, ‘Kelly was supposed to bring a new one back from Ireland before he... well…’ Eryn followed and looked up the staircase in the hope of seeing Boen. She didn’t, and turned back to Samantha, tilting her head with a façade of sympathy. Only a week had passed and the community were mourning the loss of promised goods more than Kelly.
‘I was speaking to Guliven last night.’ Samantha continued, ‘We supposed they might be travellers who’ve gotten lost. What do you think?’
Eryn shrugged. ‘I don’t know… I wouldn’t have thought so. They’d never have got passed the border.’
Samantha sighed, but nodded as she unscrewed the silver cap. ‘Guliven said he’d fetch me some sugar when he goes to Ballycotton.’ she said, as though sharing a confidence.
Eryn looked up, impressed. They hadn’t seen sugar for some months. She supposed the Waeshenbach household would soon become a storehouse of luxury now her husband had been assigned the post of runner.
‘So, your pa didn’t say anything about them?’ Samantha probed.
‘Sorry.’
‘You know, it’s got everyone unnatural worried. Ted asked Guliven if he could bring a rifle back with him.’
‘You know what I think is sad?’ Eryn said as she watched tea being poured into her squat mug. ‘How suddenly Kelly’s death doesn’t matter anymore. He was alive a week ago, being pestered by everyone to bring particulars back for them, and now people have moved on to Guliven without a second thought.
Samantha was a little affronted by the mildly veiled insinuation, but shook her head and placed the thermos between them. ‘People haven’t forgotten about Kelly, darling… it’s just… Last week we hadn’t been discovered. I’m not surprised that everyone’s more concerned about these women than they are about a corpse.’ She hesitated, knowing before the words had left her mouth that she had chosen them poorly.
‘He’s not a corpse!’ Eryn said hotly. ‘He’s Richard Kelly, and no matter how long he’s dead he’ll always be Richard Kelly to me. Corpse, indeed!’
The two of them were silent for a moment, and then Samantha sipped her tea and spoke. ‘I know, I didn’t mean…’
Eryn snorted and turned to the window, her eyes glazed. She breathed deeply and lay her hand on Samantha’s wrist. ‘I’m sorry… I just miss him. Every time the door squeaks in the pub I think it’s him. I don’t think my brain realises he’s gone for good.’
The floorboards above creaked, drawing Eryn from her thoughts. She said, ‘Is that Boen?’
‘Most likely, I think Arabella’s already out.’
‘Do you mind if I go and see him?’
Samantha looked a little confused. ‘You want to see Boen? What are you two up to?’
Defensively, Eryn frowned. ‘Nothing, we…’ the words remained as though they were the best explanation on offer. She coloured slightly and, raising her brow, Samantha shrugged and said, ‘It’s fine with me.’
‘Thanks,’ Eryn replied, and took her mug with her.
She lifted her skirts whilst climbing the steep staircase and knocked three times before waiting for a reply.
‘Yeah?’
‘It’s me.’
‘Wha… Oh! What are you doing here? What do you wa…’
Before he could finish his sentence, she was in the room. An intake of breath followed, and she turned sharply, covering her eyes. ‘Put some clothes on, will you?’
He was way ahead of her, fumbling around with a pair of corduroy trousers and scrabbling with the string at his waist. ‘Well what d’you bleedin’ expect – bursting into peoples bedrooms like that, you rotten pervert!’
‘I didn’t know you were in the nip!’ She snapped, her fingers still pressing against her eyes. ‘Is it safe yet?’
‘Yeah…’
Eryn turned and saw that he was straightening his jumper, his face flushed with embarrassment. She caught sight of several scars on his back, and a long bruise across his hip. She’d received a similar bruise from her father some years previously, but never had he left her body scarred.
‘Well what do you want?’ He said moodily. ‘Do you know who those women are?’
She was distracted by the sight of his wounds. For the first time she considered Boen was the way he was as a result of them.
‘Well?’
‘No… No I don’t, I wish people would stop asking me. I did try, but pa shouted at me to get to bed.’
‘Well why are you here?’
‘I just wondered what you thought about it… I mean, it’s a bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? Three strangers coming to the village in the space of a week? I’ve hardly had a wink of sleep all night.’
‘You think it’s connected?’
‘I don’t know,’
‘Well…’ He sat on his bed and gathered some dirty socks from the floor. ‘Why would one stranger murder and run away, and the other two come directly to the Smuggler’s?’
‘I think we should go to Lundy.’ She said directly.
‘How would we do that?’
Eryn picked at the grain of the doorframe innocently, ‘One of your pa’s boats?’
Boen left one sock dangling from his foot and stared up at her. ‘You’ve got to be joking! If pa caught me stealing one of his boats he’d gut me!’
‘Yeah? What d’you think
my
pa would do? Congratulate me? We’ve got to go; you said yourself that they wear galoshes on Lundy. If what you’ve told me so far is true then someone on that Island had a reason to murder Kelly and I want to know what that reason was.’
He stared at her for a moment, and noticed her grey eyes catching the light. They sparkled like the morning surf and he supposed she was making them do it on purpose to dazzle him. How was it possible for grey eyes to sparkle with flecks of yellow and pink?
He looked away darkly, and let out a deep sigh.
‘Is that a ‘yes’?’ She said apprehensively.
‘Not yet it isn’t.’
‘Oh come on, Boen… You want to get to the bottom of this don’t you? Just think of the esteem you’ll be held in.’
‘I don’t know that I care as much about esteem as I do about not being gutted!’
‘If the murderer knows what you look like…’
‘That’s the main reason I don’t want to go. If I take the boat I’ll run the risk of being murdered there
and
here!’
She rolled her eyes and waited in silence for a while before tilting her head seductively. ‘So what do you say?’
‘Can you just go away… Please?’
She felt his earnestness, and wasn’t quite certain how to react. She knew Guliven wouldn’t literally gut him, of course he wouldn’t, but the thought of his wounded back made her realise she shouldn’t pursue the matter any further. She nodded without saying a word, and turned to go.
‘You working tonight?’ He said, his back hunched as he looked at the floor between his legs.
‘I don’t know, what with these women… If the pubs open then yeah.’
‘Then if the pubs open tonight I’ll come and give you my answer.’
She turned to leave again.
‘Eryn?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Why are you even asking me?’
She didn’t say anything.
‘I mean: I’ve never seen you back away from doing something just because someone said ‘no’ to you. If you wanted one of the boats you’d get George to steal one and go with you.’
Eryn was taken aback by the question. She hadn’t realised that her persuading others to do her bidding was so blatant. She’d always considered herself to be rather subtle. She ran her fingers through her hair and twisted her mouth. ‘I just thought we could do this… you know, together.’
He didn’t say anything to this, and after a few seconds of silence, she turned and made her way from the house.
*
Selina woke slowly, the darkness in her dreamless mind matching that of the quiet black room. It was the monotonous sound of the ticking clock that began to draw her to consciousness.
She groaned inwardly.
Opening her eyes she looked about in the darkness. She couldn’t find the clock but could see through the thick black curtains that a deep red dawn had broken.
The binds about her arms and the additional ties around her ankles were hurting now, it felt as though they were bleeding - but when she looked down she could make out nothing but pale flesh.