The Chrysalid Conspiracy (32 page)

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Authors: A.J. Reynolds

BOOK: The Chrysalid Conspiracy
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“No, not up the village. Down in the meadows. It’s cheaper and fresher,” Bridie laughed. “You can put the kettle on while you’re here.”

It wasn’t a request, neither was it an instruction. It was just ‘Rayn’s mum’. Amelia did as she was ‘asked’, hung around to make her coffee and then headed off down the path to the meadows to find Rayn.

The reeds and vegetation, straw-coloured and laying over in the cold wind should have made her friend quite visible, but Amelia had to anxiously walk the paths and footbridges searching, eventually finding her sitting on the bank next to a bridge.
Huh oh,
she thought,
this doesn’t look good.

Rayn was sitting with her legs drawn up, her chin resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around herself. She was rocking gently back and forth. “Hi Amelia,” she said, without looking up.

“Hi trouble. How did you know it was me?” Amelia asked.

“I’ve felt you coming since you left the village,” she said absently.

“Hey, I’m the one who has the sixth sense, remember? What’s going on?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about our mysterious exploiter,” said Rayn. “I can’t bring myself to believe it has anything to do with a God. I think this is bigger than that, somehow. Anyway, I’ve decided I don’t care as long as they don’t touch my love of nature,” she concluded. “I’m supposed to catch a duck for dinner, but they’ve all gone somewhere. Most odd. Could your mum analyse this water, do you think?”

“I should think so,” said Amelia. “She’s a doctor of microbiology after all. Let’s go and ask her.”

When Rayn told her mother there were no ducks, Bridie’s reaction surprised her.

“Damn,” she said. “We were going to have duck with an apple and nut salad. Oh well, if you’re going up the village will you buy me one, pet?”

“Mum!” Rayn was infuriated by her mother’s response. “I’m more concerned about pollution than what’s for dinner.”

“Oh, yes, of course you are, sorry,” her mother apologised.

“Still, I suppose it was inevitable really, after what they’re doing up at the High Lakes.”

“What do you mean, Bridie?” said Amelia. She had the distinct impression that her little digital clock was laughing at her.

“It was in the local paper. There was one in the laundrette and I’d forgotten my book,” Bridie explained. “It seems they’ve closed the fish farm and they’re putting in dams to make a series of reservoirs to feed the expansion of Grabsum Moore.”

“They can’t stop the river,” wailed Amelia.

“No. They’re putting in sluice gates and using it as a runoff. That’s all I know about it. Don’t ask me anything else, I only know what I’ve read.”

The girls walked back up the lane in silence, coats turned up and hands in pockets against the cold. Rayn was thinking about her beloved water meadows, while Amelia was fuming, outraged at the audacity of some profiteering low life company messing with her river. There was no sign of life at the animal sanctuary when they passed. The place looked deserted.

“Hey Amelia,” Rayn suddenly said, with a burst of enthusiasm, “let’s do our boxing in the supermarket tonight. Or Candies, the clothes shop.”

“What on earth are you on about?” said a mystified Amelia.

“Well, we’re both angry. You shop and I’ll hit the staff.” The mental images that Rayn had conjured up were enough to cheer them both up and set them giggling.

Amelia had been unable to mention her devious plan to avoid the concert and she could see it all falling apart.
Oh well,
she thought,
perhaps another opportunity will present itself.
But she knew that if it came down to a choice of musical mayhem or wrist slitting, it was going to be a close call.

They walked on in silence deep in their own thoughts until Rayn spoke up. “So, what did you want to see me about?”

“What?” Amelia stopped. “What do you mean?”

“What did you want to see me about?” Rayn repeated.

“I thought you said you ‘sent’ for me,” she replied.

“Oh that,” went on Rayn. “I must admit it was my first thought. I did sit out there by the bridge wanting you to be there. When you turned up it got scary. Telepathy? It’s not me. It’s bad enough being able to tell when I’m being lied to, but to be able to tell when people are thinking lies? No thanks. So the next logical explanation was that you were on your way anyway and it was just coincidence. So, for the third time, what did you want to see me about? You didn’t brave this cold for fun, did you?”

Why do I feel as if I’ve just been intellectually mugged?
Amelia mused. Then she told Rayn about her ‘Great Idea’, or part of it anyway.

“I was thinking,” she tried to sound casual. “This concert is a terrific opportunity to get more information on the Tetherington Hall angle. We can’t afford to miss it.” Amelia stopped, thinking that perhaps she’d over done it a bit.

Rayn looked at her friend, wiped her nose on her sleeve again and sniffed. “Oh really? Go on.”

“Well,” Amelia said, and launched into her plan. “If we can get Lorraine to go it would give you a chance to find out about the Hall, and what goes on up there. You know, while her guard’s down, so to speak.”

“But Molly said Lorraine’s working the weekend. She can’t go anyway,” interrupted Rayn.

“Ah, here’s the clever part,” Amelia pressed on. “We ask George to get her the weekend off. If he does – and I think he can – it will confirm his involvement in what goes on up there.

“Pretty shrewd, Amelia. But we only have four tickets. Lorraine makes five.”

“No, there’s more. Molly can’t get a sitter for the boys and Nigel said he’d do it so that Molly won’t miss out. Now, you know that both your mum and mine won’t like that. They want him there to keep an eye on us. I’m told these things can get really rough. So, I’ll babysit and leave the way clear for you.” Amelia held her breath, waiting to see if it had worked.

Rayn didn’t speak immediately. She was sniffing and using the back of her hand to try and stop her nose from running.

“Amelia, that’s brilliant,” she said at last. Amelia breathed again. “That’s the most well thought-out load of battery operated turdles eggs I’ve ever heard. And I’m good at it. I know you’re lying, but what about?”

Rayn’s voice was so penetrating that Amelia’s resolve crumbled. “Oh Rayn, I really don’t want to go to that concert,” she confessed, “and I don’t want to disappoint you either. I’m sorry.” She stood and waited for the expected eruption. To her complete surprise Rayn just started laughing.

“Oh, I know that,” she answered. “I’ve known that since I saw the tickets.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Amelia demanded, feeling a little humiliated.

“I just wanted to see how you’d get out of it,” she said, still laughing. “I must admit, I was worried that you wouldn’t make it. That would have given me the problem of telling you.”

“Rayn! That’s horrible. It’s a wonder you’re not on the front cover of Bitch Weekly. I hate you,” said Amelia, trying to retrieve some shred of dignity.

Rayn was curled up. “Amelia, could you really see yourself with purple hair, black lipstick and a mini skirt? I couldn’t do that to you, I like you too much. Anyway, your plan may be just what we need. It’s quite elaborate, but it’s spawned a few good ideas. Even if we can’t get Lorraine off the hook, Nigel still has to go, so you can still get out of it.”

“Thanks Rayn,” said Amelia, smiling.

“Talking of Nigel,” continued Rayn, “we’d better get a move on. I must see your mum, do the shopping and get back and get changed.”

“But I still need a good excuse not to go to that concert. We don’t want anyone even thinking that some things going on,” said Amelia.

Lucy was appalled at Rayn’s conclusion on the water meadows pollution and the news of the reservoir. “I’d heard that the moor at Grabsum was to be developed into industrial and housing estates, but I didn’t think anything of it. There may be something in it after all. But why pollute the water meadows?”

“Can’t the wildlife people do something?” protested Rayn.

“Not really.” Replied Lucy. “Once it’s done all they can do is levy fines and make noises. It’s too late by then, the damage is done.”

She showed Rayn how to collect an uncontaminated sample of the water and, although she didn’t have the facilities to analyse it, she knew someone who could help.

Probably George again,
thought Rayn as she hurried home huddled against the cold wind. She looked around. There were a couple of wood pigeons but no magpies or crows. A flock of starlings in the distance, but that was all. She was thoroughly depressed, and even the thought of her Mum’s roast duck couldn’t change her mood. However, the thought of telling Nigel about the concert had cheered her a little. Along with the aroma of roast duck in herbs and spices her mother was creating, it had, all in all, put a new complexion on the day.

She was curious about her mother’s cheery mood. She rarely if ever sung, especially while she cooked, and her request not to be late for dinner was unusual and she was greatly intrigued. She knew she hadn’t forgotten her mum’s birthday and they didn’t go in for national celebrations.
So what the devil could it be?
She wondered.

***

Amelia had turned the heating on in the gym earlier and their workout was going well. Nigel was impressed with their progress in all aspects; especially, he said, in controlled aggression.

There then came a point that Amelia had been expecting. After an unarmed combat session, Rayn paused and looked at Amelia.

“I’ve got to box,” she said. It was a flat statement of intent, flavoured with resentment over the pollution of the water meadows. Nigel looked at Amelia with a frown and she gave him a nod. “It’s okay Nigel, I’ll take her on.” He checked their gloves and head-guards, made sure they were wearing gum shields and gave them the all clear.

Rayn came at Amelia as if she were possessed. Her skills and control had improved, but she pushed so hard and fast that Amelia had to back pedal, rolling and blocking to stay on her feet.

Nigel gave a warning shout. “Stop. Now! I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if you want to work something out, that’s up to you. I’m the referee and you do as I say. This is boxing and there are rules. You will obey them, and me. Don’t make me treat you like children.” Both girls were shocked at this sudden outburst and once again they were reminded who was in charge.

As they started again, Rayn was much more in control of herself. The wildness was gone, she made good use of her new skills and they boxed well.

They’d gone several rounds when Amelia, in a flash of inspiration, saw an answer to her problem As Rayn feinted with a left; Amelia rolled her face straight into her right as it came across at full power. Her gum shield flew out and she felt her lips split and the taste of blood. Having rolled to take out some of the impact, she went down anyway, and there was her excuse. She wasn’t going to that concert with a fat lip. If it wasn’t so painful she would have been quite proud of herself.

As she hit the canvass she thought
Well, it’s better than slitting my wrists and not so permanent.

Nigel left to see if George was in, while Rayn helped a bleeding Amelia to her feet. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’ll still be a mess by the weekend.”

“How did you know?” mumbled Amelia, with difficulty.

“Hey, you walked right into it. That’s not your style. I’m still going to claim it as a win, though,” she laughed.

“Oh giss a greak. It ‘urts ’en I laugh,” managed Amelia, spitting blood into the sink.

George arrived with a towel and an ice pack. “Let’s have a look then,” he said. “Just hold the ice pack in place. It’s not too bad. You’d better go and clean yourself up, you’ve got some blood on Nigel’s mats.”

Amelia looked at Rayn. An unspoken question.

“Don’t worry,” Rayn said, “I’ll be fine. I can manage.”

“You sure?” she said through the ice pack.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be in shortly.” and Amelia stumbled out, trying not to over-act.

“And what was that little charade all about, then?” George asked as Rayn pulled off her gloves and head guard.

“It’s simple, George. I’m getting faster. Hey Nigel,” she called, turning to face him. He was looking puzzled at the recent events. “It looks like your luck’s in.”

“Huh?” said Nigel, avoiding George’s eyes. “How do you mean?”

“She won’t want to go on Saturday looking like that. Perhaps she’ll babysit for you and Molly, then you can go as well.” If it hadn’t been for George’s eyes boring into her, she would be enjoying herself.

“What?” said an excited Nigel, “you think she would after that?”

“Why not? A fortunate accident, I’d say.” She acknowledged the light nod George gave her as the explanation dawned on him, he knew exactly how good Amelia was. “Nigel, you’d better go and tell Molly, she’ll be over the moon.”

“Yes. I’ll see you later. Could you lock up please – and tell Amelia to clean that blood up,” he called back as he flew out the door.

“And what was that charade all about?” George asked her with a grin.

“We were just being nice to a couple of good friends. Why?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wondered,” he replied.

“There is one thing George, while we’re here.” Rayn was feeling very nervous. This was Amelia’s field and she felt clumsy and inadequate, but something told her this was the right time.

“And what’s that?” he asked.

Trying to talk and hold her breath at the same time she plunged in. “We saw a film at school about the battle of Agincourt. It was really a documentary about the development of the long bow. Anyway, we went down to the archery club afterwards and it was fun. We thought it would be nice to learn how to make one and fire it.” Rayn stopped for a breath, her heart thumping.

“Shoot. You fire a gun, you shoot, or ‘loose’ an arrow,” was his only comment. “That’s an expensive hobby, you know.”

Rayn decided to really push her luck. The conspiracy theory was beginning to look like a fantasy again and she was losing her nerve. “Oh, I don’t know George,” she continued as calmly as she could. She indicated the gymnasium equipment and stepped into the abyss. “This looks a bit more than a hobby, don’t you think? This looks like it has some purpose to me.” She was trying not to show any fear.
Plead your innocence,
she told herself.
Come on, get that Oscar.
“So what do you think?” she asked him.

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