Seed (23 page)

We eat the porridge. Bobby taps Jack on his arm.

“We’re going to make a den in the forest,” he says quietly.

Jack smiles at him. “I’ll help you,” he says.

No one says another word.

The clouds are gathering, but it doesn’t look like rain. They are too white, too far away. And the blue of the sky doesn’t want to disappear.

I have a basket of food that Bobby helped me prepare and he is clutching an armful of bamboo sticks, his eyes concentrating on the trees ahead. Sophie and Ruby hold a blanket between them, stretched out flat as they run in front of us through the field, their laughter warming the air. I want to have some of their happiness, but nothing is right without Ellis.

I imagine that he is here. Maybe he would be carrying the bamboo. Maybe he’d be chasing Sophie, rolling her in the blanket, throwing her in the air. But then he’s wrapped in the soaked red sheet again.

“Are you OK?” Jack asks. He’s carrying twists of thick rope.

“Yes,” I say, but Jack knows me better than that.

“He’ll be fine,” he says. “Kindred Smith says he’ll be back in a few days.”

He won’t be fine, though, will he?
I want to say.
He’ll never be fine again.

“Has Kindred John told you yet what happened?”

Jack adjusts the rope on his shoulders. “He says the machine slipped.”

“Do you believe that?” Am I really questioning Kindred John?

“I have to believe it,” Jack says finally. He starts to walk quickly and I know he doesn’t want to speak about it anymore.

We go into the trees. The air is green and I breathe in the beauty of it. We let Bobby lead. Follow the little figure of him as he grasps the tricky bamboos. We wind in and out among the tall trees until we get to the place he decides. I don’t know why he has chosen here, but he has.

“Shall we collect sticks first?” Jack asks.

“No,” Bobby says. “First, we collect leaves.” And so we do. We lay the blanket and start to fill it with leaves scooped from the ground. Jack and I pick up handfuls and look at each other in silent conversation.

We’re sprinkling the leaves for the bottom of the den when I hear something, not far away. I look up, but no one is near. Then I see a hand, reaching around the trunk. I see his face only for a
second, but I know it’s him.

Simon.

I shouldn’t go to him, but I do. Jack is busy gathering sticks and I walk away, toward the boy from the Outside. I turn behind the tree and he’s here. His face is soft, concerned. His body is so close to mine. We are tucked in together so we won’t be seen.

“Why are you here?” I force myself to stay next to him.

“Where’s Kate?” Hearing him say her name makes my stomach twist, and I don’t know what to do.

“She’s not here.”

“I need to see her.” His breath is so close that I take it in mine. Nerves trickle down my arms but I have to keep myself here.

“Why?” I ask. “Why do you need to see her?”

“She said she would meet me here.”

“She wouldn’t say that. She hardly knows you.”

Simon looks me straight in the eye. “I’ve known her for months.”

“Months?” Is he lying?

“Where is she?”

“She’s not here,” I say again. I know I should walk away.

Simon reaches out and touches my arm. “I’ll wait here. Will you get her for me?” His eyes are different from Ellis’s. They are a startling blue, his eyelashes pale. “Will you?” he asks me again.

“She can’t come here,” I say as I move my arm from him.

Simon doesn’t seem so calm anymore. “Why? Where is she? Is she with him?”

“With who?” I ask.

“That old man,” he says.

I know now he must go. “You are not welcome here,” I tell him. And I mean to turn and go, to leave him there. But something makes me stop and look at him. At his Outside skin. At his forehead, his eyes. He’s not one of us, but he’s like us and there’s something about him that makes me know he is not evil.

It’s Simon who turns his back on me and starts to walk away. “Tell her I’ll come back for her,” he says.

Then he is gone.

I stand where he has left me. I’m unsure what to do. Everything used to be so clear, so definite. But now my thoughts are like the roots around me, twisting into each other. I can’t find where they start, and however hard I try, they keep ending in darkness.

Jack is knotting the rope on a tree. His movements are sharp and he yanks on the rope so hard that it must almost cut his skin.

“Who was he?” he asks. The children are close by, making a pile with the sticks they have found, so Jack speaks quietly. I thought he hadn’t seen us. I don’t want to answer, but I won’t lie to Jack.

“Simon,” I say.

“Simon?” Jack pulls the rope taut and begins to tie it round another tree. The children are here, resting sticks up against the rope to make the walls of their den. Bobby is directing them.

“Yes,” I say. Isn’t that enough?

We weave ivy in and out, making the walls strong. All the time, I can feel Jack looking at me. Ruby and Sophie drag the blanket inside and Bobby pulls the basket in with them.

Jack and I are alone, outside the den of sticks.

“What did he want?” Jack asks.

“Kate.”

“Kate?” When I look at him, he seems hurt, not angry.

“They met at the market,” I whisper. I won’t tell him any more. “I don’t know what to do.”

“We must tell the Kindreds,” he says.

“No.” I know it’s wrong, but I don’t want them to find out.

“What do you mean?” Jack asks, confused. But how can I explain? It’s like the jigsaw of my life has been shaken up and put back together all wrong. I need someone to put the pieces straight, one by one.

“I don’t know, Jack. I’m worried Kate will get in trouble.”

Jack pulls his suspenders back over his shoulders. He’s looking around. For Simon? For the trees to give him answers?

“OK,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sure. “We won’t tell the Kindreds. But if we ever see him again, then I will.”

Ruby rushes out of the den. “We’re ready!” she says, her smile out of place in my thoughts. She takes our hands in hers and pulls us into the den. They’ve laid the food out like a feast. Cherry-red tomatoes, chunks of cucumber, the hard-boiled eggs, free of their shells.

Kate is sitting alone at the kitchen table when we get back. The children are cold, huddled together under the blanket and they scuttle upstairs to jump into their beds. My ankles feel like ice. Jack and I spent far too long sitting with our feet dangling into the lake. Trying to make sense of Ellis. Wondering when he will come home.

“Where’ve you been?” Kate asks. She sounds tired.

“In the woods,” I say. “I thought you were with Papa S.”

“I was. But I’m not now.”

Jack looks awkward. I’m sure he’s remembering Simon. He walks out the door and we listen as he crosses the hallway.

“What’s going on, Kate?” I ask. I reach out for her hand. “Are you still his Companion?”

Kate doesn’t answer, but she shakes her head. Suddenly she’s crying. She’s trying to keep quiet, trying to stop her life spirit from leaving her, but the tears won’t let her. I have never seen her like this. I move my chair and wrap my arms around her.

“What is it?” I ask. “It’ll be OK.” But Kate’s tears don’t stop. Her body shakes under my arms.

The door opens. Heather rushes in. “I can hear you from the stairs,” she says. “Shh, now. Shh.” She brushes Kate’s hair back from her eyes. And when they look at each other, I feel like a child again. I am not part of what they know.

Kate breathes deep gulps of air. Heather fills a glass with water and holds it out to her. I think of Simon, hiding among the trees. Did he only run to the edge of the forest? Is he still hiding there now? His body being swallowed by the creeping dark?

I watch Kate. Her eyes are red from tears.
Tell Kate,
he’d asked me.
Tell her I’ll come back for her.

But I don’t say a word.

“Kate,” I whisper from my bed. She’s probably asleep. I’ve been lying here for so long, listening to Ruby and Sophie breathing, watching the night sky blear through the cracks in the curtain. Wondering what is the right thing to do.

“Yes,” Kate replies. She sounds wide awake.

It’s easy to find my way to her bed. I sit on the end of it, clasp my arms round my knees. “He was here again,” I whisper. I’ve said it now. “Simon.”

Kate sits up quickly. Her face is close enough for me to see,
but I can’t work out her expression. “Where?”

“In the woods. He was asking for you.”

She smiles and her face lights up.

“He’s from the Outside, Kate. He can’t come back.” I want to tell her that I know. I know their secret.

“Did anyone else see him?”

I look down at my arms, crossed over my legs. “Jack.”

“Jack saw Simon?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He says if he sees him again, he’s going to tell the Kindreds.” Sophie moves in the bed nearby, but she’s still fast asleep. “You have to make him stay away, Kate.” But she shakes her head. Panic rushes into me. “You have to. He’s from the Outside. He will poison you.”

“That’s rubbish. Ellis is from the Outside. And Sophie. And Linda.”

“That’s different.”

“Why?” Kate stares at me and I can’t answer her. “I like him,” she says, so quietly.

“But it’s wrong, Kate.” And I think of Jack. How hurt he looked when he saw Simon in the trees.

“No. These feelings aren’t wrong.” She closes her fingers into a fist and brings them close to her heart.

And I understand her. Because ever since I saw Ellis, I have felt it too.

“What are you going to do?”

Kate’s eyes are wide as she looks at me. “I don’t know,” she says.

There is a noise from the corridor. Just the house creaking, as it does when we sleep.

“I don’t know,” Kate whispers again.