Hungry Moon (28 page)

^{She stumped along a short path between flowerbeds crushed by concrete slabs and unlocked the cottage at the end of the lane. 'Bring her here to me now,' she said. The men marched Diana up the path just as the whiteness broke free of the clouds. As Mrs Scragg slammed the door behind them, the moonlight reached into the cottage.}

^{FORTY SIX}

^{Geraldine snuggled against Jeremy on the couch at the end of the bookshop and listened to the dark. The screams in the streets had turned into hymns and moved away into the town, which meant that there shouldn't be any more dog turds or threatening messages through the letter box for a while. The dark had driven their tormentors away, and now she hoped it would do more. If Jonathan was still too shy to let them see him, perhaps the dark would bring him back.}

^{More than anything else now, she wanted Jeremy to accept him. She mustn't let Jeremy recoil from him, scare him away. She could feel how Jeremy was striving to breathe regularly, to keep from shivering. She listened to the distant hymns and prayers and gazed at the dark that made her eyes feel out of focus, drained of sense. She'd heard nothing but the faithful when, without warning, light spread across the floor in front of her.}

^{The sight made her forget to breathe. After so long in the dark she felt as though the patch of lit floor were being created before her eyes, intensely detailed as a photograph but infinitely more real. The moonlight traced the grain of the bare boards and plugged a knothole with black dark; even a splinter stood up starkly in front of its matchstick shadow. The longer she gazed, the more luminous the patch of floorboards seemed to grow. Then Jeremy began to tremble; he must think he was hallucinating. 'It's really there,' she whispered. 'Come on, let's go and see.'}

^{She led him across the shop, whose bare shelves were just visible outside the path of moonlight, and opened the front door. The paint of the cottages was black now on white walls, as if the street had turned Tudor. The spectacle of the bright deserted street made her feel like dancing under the moon. She hurried with Jeremy along the path, and the moon flew over the roofs.}

^{At first she didn't know why the appearance of the moon made her falter. The clouds seemed almost to be driven back by it, clearing the sky in all directions, but that must be winds, too high for her to feel them. As for the brightness, no wonder the quarter moon seemed brighter than usual after so much dark. None of that troubled her - but then she knew what did. The new moon must have come and gone beyond the clouds and the dark. It was later than she'd realized: Jonathan's birthday had gone unnoticed. She felt worse than thoughtless, as if she'd left her only child alone in the dark. 'Jeremy, I want to go somewhere,' she murmured.}

^{'We haven't got the van.'}

^{He'd relaxed once he saw that the moon was out, but now he sounded frustrated. T don't mean that, not just yet anyway,' she said, taking his hand. T want to walk.'}

^{He stared toward the centre of Moonwell, where the whole population seemed to be cheering and whooping and singing a hymn. 'You mean while there's nobody about to stop us?'}

^{'I suppose so.'}

^{'Fine, let's do it. It's our town too while we're living here, so let's see if any of these bastards have the courage to tell us different to our faces. Where do you want to go?'}

^{'Just to the end and back.'}

^{'You mean the graveyard?'}

^{'I'd like to spend a little time in there, yes.'}

^{'Gerry, if this is more of that stuff about Jonathan leading us back here. . . .'}

^{'I thought we'd agreed not to mention that, since we only argue. I just feel I'll be closer to him there, all right? I wanted to remember him on his birthday, but it looks as if I'm too late.'}

^{'I'm sorry,' he said as though she'd made him feel responsible for that, and held onto her hand as they stepped off the garden path.}

^{Apart from the celebration in the square, they might have been alone in Moonwell. The High Street seemed like a dream of itself, newly coloured and preserved by the icy light. They stayed on the main street until they were in sight of the square, of the crowd singing joyfully and brandishing their clasped hands at the luminous smile that was tilted almost coyly in the sky. Jeremy hurried through the narrow lanes whose upper windows glittered with the moon that swam through them, leaving the roadways steeped in shadow. He was hurrying in case an unexpected cloud should blot out the moon, she realized. She mustn't mind that it wasn't because he shared her feelings about Jonathan: he shared the loss, he just coped with it differently. The trouble was that having done so, he seemed unable to accept that there could be any way besides his own.}

^{They came up out of the silt of darkness onto the High Street a few hundred yards short of the church, and she wondered why she had suddenly grown tense. The church looked whitewashed, moonlight flooding down the high steep roof. Shadow filled the small peaked porch and bruised the faces of the gargoyles; moonlight had blanked out all three faces in each tall, thin, arched window. The church no longer had a priest, Geraldine remembered - but it couldn't just be the desertion that made Jeremy suck in a breath.}

^{She glanced at his shocked face, then peered ahead at the churchyard, where he was staring. Lumps of shadow lay in the grass among the gleaming headstones, spidery shadows nested in the roots of the willows and the oak, but there was nothing that didn't belong in a graveyard unless Jeremy had glimpsed something through the railings that she was unable to make out. Now that she strained her eyes, wasn't there a pale shape on the grass between the railings and the headstones? Before she quite knew why, she was running.}

^{Jeremy mumbled a protest and tried to grab her, but she shook him off. He caught up with her as she reached the gate. She halted there, her hand falling short of grasping the latch, her heart pumping faster, not only from her run. A small white naked shape lay face down on the grass beside the churchyard path.}

^{She gazed through the bars of the gate at it, her throat growing parched with emotions she couldn't begin to define, while Jeremy tugged at her arm. 'Don't look, come away,' he muttered nervously, but she snatched her arm free. The small naked body was so still that she hardly dared go closer to find out why it wasn't moving. Though it looked like marble in the moonlight, she knew it was alive, or had been. 'Let me alone,' she cried as Jeremy reached for her, and the shape on the grass raised its head.}

^{'Oh Christ,' Jeremy breathed. This time he grabbed her arm for support, not to drag her away, but she realized that only when she'd turned furiously toward him. His eyes bulged as he stared through the gate. She drew a shaky breath and made her head turn, to look the naked figure in the face.}

^{It was a child, a boy. At first her mind seemed unable to grasp more than that, though later she would tell herself she'd been afraid to believe what she was seeing.}

^{The boy gazed at her as if he was too exhausted or too afraid to show emotion, except for a faint plea in his moonlit eyes, or was she imagining that? He raised himself feebly on all fours, damp grass twitching upright where he'd been lying on it, and she saw that his eyes were blue as Jeremy's, blue eyes in a square face that was a smaller version of Jeremy's except for the lips, which were more like her own. An irresistible surge of emotion carried her forward, unaware of bruising her elbow on the gate. She was so intent on reaching the child that at first she didn't understand why she couldn't - didn't realize that Jeremy was holding her.}

^{'Let go, Jeremy.' She made herself stay calm, for her emotions felt like a bomb. 'It's all right if you don't want to go in. Just wait here.'}

^{'Are you crazy? Can't you see it?' He seemed almost incoherent with panic, his hold on her tightening as a substitute for words. 'I was afraid it might come when the lamps went out. I thought the moonlight would keep it away.'}

^{'Jeremy.' She stroked his hands that were gripping her shoulders, she kneaded his fingers to make them relax. 'Look again. It isn't anything we saw on the road, it's a child. Can't you see who it is?'}

^{He peered unwillingly past her, his hands growing rigid. When he spoke his voice was shakier than ever. 'It isn't... I thought it was . . . Christ, I don't know what I'm seeing any more. Whatever it is, I don't like it. Leave it alone, Gerry, for God's sake.'}

^{The child sank back onto the grass, still holding up his head feebly to watch them. Were his eyes dimming, or had they only ceased to catch the light? She loosened Jeremy's grip on her, gently but firmly. 'He's a child, Jeremy, a living child alone out here in the cold and the dark. You wouldn't leave him to that, I don't believe you could.'}

^{'Ask him where he lives, then.' Jeremy sounded close to hysteria, though he'd lowered his voice. 'Or tell him to go to the square and let them take care of him. You needn't think he's coming home with us.'}

^{'I didn't hear that, Jeremy. You didn't say it, it was someone else, someone I couldn't have married. I couldn't live with anyone who felt like that about children.' She gave him a warning glance and turned her back on him, stepped through the gateway.}

^{The boy began to smile timidly as she went along the path, unzipping her jacket. Her breasts loosened inside her T-shirt now that the jacket was no longer supporting them, and she felt momentarily like a mother about to feed her baby. The boy struggled onto all fours again, his skin gleaming white in the moonlight, and she noticed that the grass where he'd lain was glistening. It must have been the weight of his body squeezing the moisture out of the ground. Wondering how long he'd lain there on the chill, damp earth, she felt like weeping. He stumbled to his feet as she reached him, his long fingers dangling beside his penis that looked drained of blood. He was about Andrew's age, but nothing like Andrew: he seemed empty of emotion - too exhausted, she told herself. 'Come here,' she said with fierce pity, and wrapped her jacket around him.}

^{As she zipped it up to keep him snug, her fingers touched his neck. She couldn't help shivering, he was so cold and damp. Impulsively she lifted him in her arms rather than lead him, and was dismayed to find he weighed even less than she'd expected; there seemed to be hardly any flesh on his bones. She pressed her lips to his cold forehead, which was as high as Jeremy's. 'We'll feed you,' she whispered.}

^{She was almost at the gates when Jeremy lurched into the graveyard. 'They've stopped singing in the square,' he mumbled, his eyes turning reluctantly to the face of the child in her arms. 'I think the prayer meeting's over.'}

^{'We've got to get him home before they see us.'}

^{'Gerry . . . ' he pleaded, refusing to look again at the child's face.}

^{'You can't stop me, Jeremy, and neither will they. We've given up enough.' She was already running to the nearest lane. As she dodged around the corner, she heard the crowd beginning to stream out of the square. 'Don't go down there alone,' Jeremy called desperately, and ran after her, down into the dark.}

^{The child's face gazed up at hers as she hurried through the empty lanes. Once she had to hide in an alley to avoid a family as they strode home, singing a hymn. Jeremy was first into the High Street, and gestured her back wildly until it was deserted enough to cross. He ran to the chapel and let her in just as the Bevans appeared at the end of the line of failed street-lamps under the smiling sky.}

^{Geraldine carried the boy through the bookshop, where moonlight filled the shelves with volumes of shadow, and through the inner hall, up the stairs to the guest room. The small room was full of whiteness, brightest on the bed. She put the boy down on the sheets and stepped back to gaze at him as Jeremy ventured into the room. The boy's face seemed to come alive in the moonlight, and his mouth opened smiling. She gripped Jeremy's hand as a wave of anticipation made her dizzy. The boy's eyes brightened as he gazed at them, standing hand in hand beside his bed. 'Mummy, Daddy,' he said.}

^{FORTY SEVEN}

^{Nick didn't try to reason with the policeman until the butcher had left them alone, by which time he was locked in a cell. Perhaps he should have struggled free as the butcher marched him into the dark, but he would have been no use to Diana if his captor had rendered him incapable, as the man was clearly eager to do, muttering 'Go on, try it' in Nick's ear like a Lancashire comedian doing an impression of a tough cop. Nick allowed himself to be marched to the police station, which surely would be all the inspector required of him.}

^{A curve of the High Street cut off the police station from the town square. A small building with double doors in a porch, narrow windows in thick walls under a peaked roof, it reminded Nick of a village school. The policeman swung his flashlight beam from wall to wall beyond the porch. Furniture sprang up on shadows: a counter, empty desks. Dog-eared notices pinned to a board started forward like birds out of a nest. The policeman unbolted a flap in the counter and motioned the butcher to bring Nick through, but Nick baulked at the sight of the short corridor that led to a cell. 'Surely that isn't necessary,' he said between his teeth, tears starting from his eyes as his arms were forced farther up.}

^{'You aren't necessary,' the butcher snarled, butting his head against the side of Nick's. 'Just be thankful you aren't being treated how you deserve.'}

^{The policeman unlocked the barred door and stood aside without speaking. The butcher shoved Nick along the corridor, then swung him violently into the cell. Nick lowered his head just in time, and only his shoulders smashed into the wall beside the single bunk. He glared helplessly at the lamplit key as the inspector locked him in. 'If you want me to keep an eye on him, just say the word,' the butcher said eagerly.}

^{'No need, thank you. I can manage now.'}

^{'You know where to find me if you change your mind.' The butcher sounded piqued by the hint of reproof in the inspector's voice. He marched out, slamming the porch doors.}

^{Nick limped to the bars as the policeman went into the main room. 'Inspector,' he called.}

^{'I haven't left you, never fear. I'll want your details for the records.'}

^{The light bobbed away among the desks, which shifted as if the dark were a flood. Nick grasped the bars to keep back an impression that the dark was drowning him. Eventually the light shrank into the corridor and poked at him. 'Your name, please.'}

^{'Nick Reid. But look, surely you don't think I meant to break the law. Can't you let me go now? I give you my word that I don't want any trouble.'}

^{The light swung up into his face. 'Your address.'}

^{'I can't give you that until I know what I'm charged with.'}

^{'I've already made that clear. Breach of the peace. Your address, please.'}

^{'I want to keep the peace as much as you do. I'm here to help, can't you understand? But I'm worried about Diana Kramer - that's why I came here in the first place. If you won't let me out, then for God's sake go and make sure they don't harm her. Don't just stand there doing your paperwork.'}

^{'If you're so anxious about her, you should have kept her quiet, shouldn't you? The sooner you give me your details the sooner I can get on with the work I should be doing.'}

^{'My God, you're trying to police this town all by yourself. What happened to the rest of them?'}

^{'It's quite possible they're on their way back to Moon-well with help. You got here, after all. You had no trouble finding your way here, presumably.'}

^{'Let me out of here and I'll tell you.'}

^{'I think not,' the inspector said with a short mirthless laugh. 'Your address, please, if you want me to see to your teacher friend.'}

^{How much paperwork might he need to persuade himself that he was still in control? 'I nearly didn't get here at all,' Nick said, 'and I don't believe anyone else will. Now I can give you some idea of what it's like out there, but I'm damned if I'm going to while I'm locked up like an ape in a cage.'}

^{There was silence, and then the light drooped. It looked like an admission of defeat, or at least as if the policeman were considering Nick's ultimatum. Then the light went out.}

^{'Bastard,' Nick snarled in his throat. But the light hadn't been switched off to cow him, for he saw the policeman's face, barred with shadow, gazing past him at the small window of the cell. Moonlight was streaming in. Nick felt limp with relief at the overcoming of the dark, and then his instincts caught up with him. It was too reminiscent of the light he'd seen on the moor and then at the hotel.}

^{In the square the townsfolk were cheering. At least that should mean they weren't harming Diana, but it didn't help him. The policeman shone the flashlight on his notebook. 'Whatever you were going to tell me, I think it's beside the point now. All I want from you is your address.'}

^{Nick would have grabbed him through the bars if he hadn't been out of reach. 'Do you really believe everything's all right now?' he said desperately. 'Aren't you worried at all by how your town's changed?'}

^{'Undoubtedly I would be if I didn't believe in God.' The policeman frowned at him. 'Authority comes from God, you know. That's a grave responsibility that I hope I'm worthy of. If that won't keep me from error, I'd like you to tell me what would, you and the rest of your subversive brethren. Now -'}

^{He was going to ask for the address again, Nick thought wildly. But the inspector turned away from him, toward a noise at the porch doors. 'It's open,' he called.}

^{Only the sounds of celebration in the town square answered him. The shadows of the bars stretched along the corridor into the crowded dark of the main room. Then the noise at the doors came again, a scratching that sounded urgent. The policeman trained the flashlight beam on the porch. 'Come,' he shouted.}

^{When there was still no response, he tramped along the corridor. Desks swam out of the dark as the flashlight beam expanded into the main room, but was it the light that made the doors appear to shake? 'Wait,' Nick said, suddenly more nervous. 'Better make sure you know who's there before you open the doors.'}

^{The inspector threw him a contemptuous look. 'Your lady friend's got you as hysterical as she is. Or are you suggesting I should let you out in case I need help? You'll have to get up earlier than that to catch me, my friend.' He pointed the flashlight at the doorknob and threw the doors wide.}

^{What had been waiting in the shadow of the police station came in so fast that at first Nick couldn't see why the policeman staggered backward, dropping the flashlight, which careened off the leg of a desk and lay on the linoleum, spinning crazily, turning the room into a nightmare carousel of glimpses. Nick saw the policeman hurl himself at the doors, slamming them just too late. As the man swung round and made a dash for a cupboard where Nick saw truncheons beyond flashing glass, three shapes leaped on him.}