The Mute and the Liar (33 page)

We
walk
on
for
a
little,
when
suddenly
he
grasps
my
shoulders
and
drags
me behind
a
bush and forces
me to kneel down.

“
Shhh!
”
he
whispers,
pressing
a
finger
over
his
lips.

Through
the
spaces
in
the
leaves
I
see
three
policemen
push
their
way
past
the
crowds
and
then
charge
along the path
leading
out
of
the
street.

“
Okay.
All
clear.
”
Jayce
drags
me
up
again
and
continues
marching
ahead
of
me.

That
all
seemed
a
little
extreme
just
to
avoid
some
policemen.
Is
he
really
that
worried
about
getting
caught?
He
seemed
so
fearless
and
reckless
before,
emanating
the
aura
of
someone
who
couldn’t
care
less
what
sort
of
danger
they
got
into
as
long
as
they
had
fun
doing
it.
I
did
not
expect
him
to
worry
this
much.

A
few
drops
of
rain
leave
inky
studs
on
the
pavement
around
me.
I
put
up Kit’s
umbrella,
and
soon
enough
the
rain
starts
crashing
in.
Jayce
puts
the
collar
of
his
trench
coat
up,
and
seems
a
little
irritated.
Heh.
Probably
scared
the
rain
is
going to
mess
up
his
hair
on
the
one
day
he
combed it.

Actually,
I
feel
a
little
sorry
for
him.
He
seems
so
small
shrouded
in
that
coat
and
with
the
rain
rushing
down
his
cheeks
and
seeping
into
his
hair,
leaving
it
nothing
more
than
yellow
rat’s
tails.
And
he
did
wash
his
hair
this
morning.
What
if
he
catches
a
cold?
Sure,
I
don’t
like
him,
but
colds
are
nasty.

Fine.
I
am
going
to
do
the
right
thing
here.

I
catch
up
to
him
and
lift
the
umbrella
over
his
head,
so
it
shields
us
both.
He stops
walking
and looks
at
me, his
expression
something
between
surprise
and
curiosity.
Around
us
people
continue
dashing
everywhere
and
pushing
past,
and
I
feel
as
if
we’re the
only
people
standing
still.
We
stand
like
that
for
a
while, just
falling into each
other’s
eyes
with
the
rain
falling around us.

“
Thanks,
”
he says
softly.

Huddled
under
the
umbrella,
we
carry
on
walking
and
soon
reach
some
sort
of
a
square
filled
with
shops
and
tourists.
The
Bath
Abbey
towers
up
ahead.

“
So
this
is
the
Abbe
y,
”
Jayce
introduces
the
beautiful
cathedral
we
are
standing
in
front
of
with
the
ladder
of
stone
angels
clambering
up
to
the
top
on
the
west
front
and
one
huge
arched
window
stretching
over
the
front
building
above
the
arched
front
door.
Spires
and
pinnacles
twist
up
towards
the
sky and
stained
glass
windows
line every
wall.

I
close
the
umbrella,
we
enter
and
Jayce
pays
a
donation.
I
am
astounded.
There
are
four
rows
of
pews
all
leading
up
to
an
alter
and
one
huge
long
thin
stained
glass
window
on
the
farthest
wall,
which
is
encased
between
two
smaller
stained
glass
windows.
There
is
a
fan-vaulted
ceiling,
which
makes
it
look
as
though
the
ceiling
has
been
crotched.
Little
shields
stud
the
ceiling
occasionally.
Red
chandeliers
hang
in
a
line
above
the
pews
and
there
are
flowerpots
and
stands
of
candles
everywhere.

Jayce
is
looking at
me shyly,
possibly waiting for my
opinion,
and
I
smile.

We
sit
in
one
row
of
the
pews,
and
after
a
few
minutes
of
silence,
a
blonde
teenager
showing
off
a
tailcoat
suit
appears
and
talks
to
a
loitering
priest
nearby.

“
No
one
has
paid
for
the
tour
today
I’m
supposed
to
do
at
eleven.
Can
I
come
back
in
an
hour
or
so?
”
the blonde boy has
a
very cut-glass voice,
which
I
haven't really heard before.
They
talk
a
little
more,
and
seem
to
come
to
an
agreement.
The
boy
turns
to
walk
away.

“
Former
choirboy
,
”
Jayce
explains.
“
They
always
get
them
to
do the
tours.
You
know,
the
slavery
job
no
one
else
wants
to
do.
”

Unfortunately,
it
seems
the
boy
overhead
that
and
turns
to
stare
at
us
as
he
walks
past.
His
dark
blue,
heavily
lidded
eyes
widen
a
little
when
he
sees
me
and
he
stops
walking.
He
gives
me
a
crooked
smile,
and
I
can
feel
myself
blushing.
I
swear
I
always
do
when
a
stranger
looks
at
me,
but
now
it’s
even
worse
that
he
is
smiling
at
me.
Jayce,
who
has
seen
this
encounter,
looks
irritably
from
the
boy
to
me
and
back
to
the
boy
again.
He
suddenly
slumps
back
and crosses
his
arms.