Out of Time (30 page)

These undercurrents did not go unnoticed by the others. Randolph and Belinda sensed and were mystified by the force of hidden emotion, while Otto, as always, kept his own counsel.

Randolph shrugged.

‘Can’t tell what’s going on but I suppose we’ll eventually find out.’

They were too involved in rediscovering one another to probe further.

But events were not to proceed as any one of them had anticipated.

*

‘There’s going to be an inspection of empty houses,’ William tells the children one evening. ‘You’ll have to move, for a time at least.’

They are alarmed.

‘Where to?’

‘I think it best you come into my house. I’ll hide you in the attic on the day.’

‘What about the connecting door?’ Ian asks.

‘I’m going to brick it up with the old bricks. I’ve kept them.’

They spend the next two days removing every trace of their occupation, replacing objects as they had first found them. The house is cleaner than they would have liked but as the inspection is several days away the dust will settle and at least some of the musty smell return. There is, in any case, nothing else they can do.

Once settled in the more cramped quarters of William’s attic they debate their future.

‘We can’t just hang around like this,’ Susie says. ‘We have to plan. We’ve got to get the others out and…’

‘Bring the regime down,’ Ian adds, not without irony.

Two days later they hear the guards go into number twenty two and noisily turn everything over. They sit shivering but after a time the front door bangs shut and steps in unison march down the street.

That evening, when he gets home, William allows the children downstairs.

‘How did you know they were coming?’ Susie asks.

‘I work as a minor official,’ he says. ‘I’m in a good position to know what’s going on.’

‘We want to start planning. It’s not enough to sit around, dependent on you, doing nothing,’ Ian says, ‘but we have to wait for Margaret’s contacts.’

‘Has it occurred to you that she may not have survived?’ William asks.

There is a small silence.

‘You realise what you are taking on? The chances of a pack of children bringing down Helmuth and the junta are practically nil.’

‘We’ve nothing to lose.’

‘Except your lives.’

‘They’re not much use until we do something,’ Susie says, ‘something worthwhile. We’ve all lost the people we love.’

She looks directly at William.

‘We owe them.’

William’s heart gives a lurch. These children know too much, have experienced too much. They are worldly wise and weary, grown up before their time. It tells on their pale, serious faces, even Issie’s who, though not fully understanding what is at stake, is wide eyed with concern. He wants to pick her up and comfort her but such shows of affection would produce deep embarrassment. They are not used to demonstrative behaviour. Instead, he thinks of persuading them to leave the town, to go into the country, remove themselves from the horror of their future. But he understands from his own bitter experience that not to do what one thinks right, even in childhood or perhaps particularly then, can lead to guilt of the most brutal kind, more dangerous to the personality in its own way than physical assault. Nevertheless, he cannot allow them to throw their lives away.

Bringing the regime down has not been part of William’s plan but now that the children have led him down the unexpected path of defying the junta he has been harbouring a dream. It is to return to the village where he grew up, to recapture the innocence of that time, to learn again what it means to live without fear, without terror stalking one’s every moment. No matter if the village is in ruins, he will build it up again, he will smell the earth and regain some part of all that he has lost. He will take the children with him and teach them how to live. That way he may expiate his sins and give back to Mary what he took away.

But he cannot afford to be caught up in their mad fantasy and embark on a suicidal mission neither he nor they will survive. All hope will be lost. He will persuade them he is right and that they must abandon their ambition.

‘We have to escape. As soon as possible,’ he insists.

‘No. We can’t leave the others in the dungeon. It’s what we promised and what we are determined to do.’

William wants to act for Mary, the children for their friends. Though locked into one another’s fate they have diverging aims. This, William fears, is going to be their undoing. To gain time, he promises to try and rescue the prisoners from the dungeon and to find people who would join an uprising. It is highly improbable that he can. Movement and contacts are carefully monitored and regarded with deep suspicion. Meetings to get the necessary consensus and make a plan are essential to success but any assembly of people, no matter how discreetly conducted, is illegal and certain to be discovered.

‘You’ll have to let me think about it,’ he says.

*

Early one morning, as everyone was leaving for their individual tasks, Belinda burst in from her night watch.

‘They’re coming,’ she said. ‘the townspeople.’

They gathered urgently in the kitchen.

‘How far away?’

‘About five hours I would say.’

‘How many?’

‘I haven’t seen them yet.’

She had observed herds of animals moving swiftly away from the hills, had heard the warning squawk of alarmed birds in the distance. Their ears were finely tuned to the sound of danger.

‘Go back up the pine,’ Randolph said, ‘report progress. Otto, if you stay below you can act as runner. You all know what to do?’

They nodded. They had practised hand to hand fighting with arms, knives, swords, axes and rehearsed numerous manoeuvres, learned the many tactics common to guerilla fighters. These were of a wide enough range to cover all possible emergencies. They had one great advantage - as a group they were flexible, able to react swiftly as necessity dictated whereas the townspeople followed a set routine, like programmed robots; or this in the past had always been the case.

It is almost impossible to tell how one will act when in danger, what inner impulse will take over, urging action which would previously have seemed impossible. This was going to be a new experience for Joe, the make believe turned into a bloody reality and he did not know, though his courage was high, if he would distinguish himself or fail miserably. He could feel himself tautening for the fight, his nerves stretched to breaking point. His first thought was to protect Kathryn. He moved instinctively towards her. Randolph saw.

‘You have to remember that self defence and the death of the enemy is the first and foremost responsibility of each individual.’

He looked directly at Joe.

‘If you don’t trust your partner, if you look out for each other, the enemy will catch you off guard and you’ll both be killed and leave the rest of us in even further danger. There’s few enough of us as it is. In the past we were usually able to match numbers. That may not be the case today. Don’t forget,’ he added emphatically, ‘it’s each individual for himself in order to protect the others.’

Joe could not deny the logic of Randolph’s statement and looked at Kathryn to see how she had reacted. She looked triumphant, the flush of victory on her face long before the battle had begun. She was, as he again reminded himself, a far more experienced fighter than he, well able to look after herself. He admired her more than ever at this moment, her courage, her indomitable spirit. That this magnificent woman loved him seemed to him a wonder and a miracle. He determined to prove himself to her. He would fight to the death. He felt strength flowing into his limbs.

Kathryn saw and understood. She had no doubts about Joe’s prowess as a fighter, knew that his youthful vigour would compensate for his inexperience. He would survive.

But her own moment of truth, of epiphany had arrived, provided by the enemy. They had inadvertently come to her rescue, obviating the need to seek poisoned mushrooms, to deceive Joe and the others. Not an inglorious death but a glorious end awaited her.

Her plan was simple. Confident of her superior strength and skill she would first kill the enemy but leaving one alive, give him an opportunity to kill her, a stratagem that could not fail. The others would soon despatch him. Kathryn felt fear and ecstasy in equal measure, ecstasy at her impending end, fear for Joe at the grief he would feel. But not forever. His youth and the strength they had given each other through their love would sustain him. She quailed; but there was no turning back.

Her life with Joe replayed itself, all that he meant to her in the two years they had been together. She could barely recall a time before she knew him, years that trickled away like water into the earth; all that mattered was her love for this young man, a passion of an intensity that rolled all she ever felt, all past emotion, all present joy, into one ball. They had discovered love, they were the first lovers in the universe, the most astonished, the most passionate. So it had seemed at the beginning and so it seemed still. This message passed between them. Kathryn put her hand lightly on Joe’s cheek and moved away, afraid that her sorrow would show.

They turned to the matter in hand.

‘The plan is this,’ Randolph said.

‘We conceal ourselves at the edge of the wood - I’ll give you your individual positions and we will then wait for the townspeople to approach. Usually they come by ox and cart and finally on foot but we can’t be sure. But whatever their formation our biggest advantage is surprise. We have to remain hidden until the last moment and then spring on them. It’s best that we gather at the edge of the tree line and use it as our point of attack. Belinda is going to climb a tree near us. She will keep watch. Otto, waiting below, will be able to tell us roughly where they are going to enter the wood. We’ll conceal ourselves in a formation I will specify and rush them simultaneously. Each individual is to mark his man or men and attack before any one of them realises we are there. As I said, surprise is all. Is that understood?’

They nodded their agreement.

‘We have a few hours. Otto please prepare a hot meal before you go and we’ll go over the tactics again. Don’t eat too much. It will make you sluggish.’

Kathryn and Joe sat together, their legs pressed one against the other, faces flushed with excitement, pretending that this was no extraordinary occasion, that life was continuing with its normal routine. They exchanged trivial remarks. The time for feelings, for words, had passed.

They put on boots and loose clothing and armed themselves with knives and axes already ground to a fine edge, then moved to the intended battleground at the edge of the wood, two hours distant from the house. As he retraced his steps to where he had so long ago waited for Randolph to return with Otto, Joe hardly recognised the boy he had been. Then, he had been frightened by a pig, now he was a man, his first major battle ahead. He felt light-hearted, confident. As did the others. No one hurried or panicked, all were calm, secure in their knowledge of one another. They waited, talking quietly of everyday things.

When Otto reported that Belinda had seen that the men were mounted on ponies a new plan was put into operation.

‘We’ll have to come at them from above,’ Randolph said. ‘Once we know roughly at which point they enter the wood each one of you will be designated a tree. Position yourselves so that you’re immediately above the riders. I’ll give a signal for all of us to attack at the identical moment. It’s going to need accurate timing.’

More waiting. Joe felt the tension mount. Would Kathryn be safe from harm, was there a danger they might overpower her? Despite Randolph’s warning he felt the need to be beside her, to protect her though, as he knew well enough, she was a better fighter than he could ever be, fast and sure. But the slightest slip…

Meredith, as though hearing his thoughts, passed by and said very quietly so that no on else could hear:

‘She’s a skilled fighter. As tough as they come.’ And he grinned.

Otto appeared.

‘About fifty minutes away. They’re making straight for here.’

‘Excellent.’

Randolph spread his meagre front on trees facing the enemy, Joe at one end of the line, then Meredith, Belinda who would be joining them once the horsemen were nearer, Kathryn, Randolph. Joe chafed at his distance from Kathryn. He could not even see her.

‘OK,’ Randolph said, ‘to your positions now.’

The moment had come to part. Kathryn kissed Joe lightly on the cheek as she had done all those aeons ago when Joe had first declared his love. He kissed her back, a butterfly touch of the lips. He pressed her hand. They smiled at one another.

They heard them before they saw them, the jangle of harness, the steady beat of horses’ hooves on hard ground, the crunch of twigs. Then they came into view, cantering towards the trees. There were twelve, the odds not as great as they might have feared. Joe could make out their faces, grey and unyielding. They were riding in pairs but, forced to slow down by the wood, they spread out in a line and approached at a slow trot. Randolph gave the signal, a hard rap on his tree. They dropped down as the horsemen passed below.

Their timing was perfect. The horses reared and the riders lost control of their mounts. Several fell. Unseated, the enemy prepared to fight on the ground. This suited the dissidents, trained as they were in guerilla tactics. Joe landed on an opponent and sunk a knife in his back. The man fell but another was immediately on Joe, wielding an axe. Joe gave a quick turn, avoided impact and slashed his opponent’s back as the impetus from the axe hurled him forward. They seemed to be everywhere for another attacked. Joe parried with his knife and, using an old school trick, put his foot out. The man fell and before he could scramble to his feet Joe sliced his head from his body. At the same moment Joe felt a knife in his side. A man was standing over him. Joe’s knees buckled.

Then anger took over. The Furies that had so long been his enemy became his friend. With a strength he did not know he possessed, Joe lashed out at the enemy. His speed and accuracy took his opponent by surprise and he lay dead at Joe’s feet before he could even know what had happened. Joe looked up. Two men were running towards him, fleeing from Meredith who, blood pouring from a wound, was in pursuit. But Meredith was weakening. Joe ran after them. They recognised a fearsome enemy and fled but Joe caught them. The men were dispatched, their blood soaking the ground. He stood over them and his anger drained away. He had killed several men. He could hardly believe it and wondered if he looked different, a monster with two heads.