The Chrysalid Conspiracy (38 page)

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Authors: A.J. Reynolds

BOOK: The Chrysalid Conspiracy
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“This is getting really scary,” complained Rayn.

“Oh no,” Claire said to her. “The next bit is the really nasty part – if you accept all this as gospel. Oh, sorry, I don’t believe I said that…”

“Claire!” Amelia’s voice was loud and sharp. The look on Claire’s face showed that she accepted Amelia’s authority.

“Sorry,” she said. “There’s another group who actually want Armageddon to happen.”

“But why?” blurted out a terrified Carrieanne. Claire looked her sister in the eyes.

“Remember, Caz, and I quote. ‘
When Armageddon comes, the Lord will take the true believers into His Kingdom to dwell in paradise, while the others will rot in a hell of their own making.’
The Gospel according to daddy?”

“The church?” Carrieanne’s eyes were wide open with amazement and fear. “It can’t be true. It’s impossible. It just can’t happen.” She was almost hysterical. “I don’t believe it.”

Rayn saw her chance and weighed in again, mercilessly. “You don’t believe it because you don’t want to Carrieanne. Just because it goes against everything you’ve been taught to believe in. Hasn’t it ever occurred to you that all this brainwashing may be nothing more than a control system? That the church may have invented heaven and hell as a threat or a reward for doing as they say. If evil is such a bad thing in the eyes of your God, why are humans so good at it? Ask yourself that.”

Caz burst into tears, the central pillar of her being was under attack and she had no answers to fight back with.

“You don’t know that.” she cried out in desperation. “All we are and all we have must be for a purpose, otherwise why are we here? What’s the point of it all?”

Amelia tried to smooth things over. “Caz,” she said gently. “We agree that life must have some purpose, but this self-denigration before some unlikely creator? Trying to measure up to some indefinable set of rules? Really?”

Claire saw the state her sister was in and turned to Amelia. “Anyway,” she said in a loud voice. “This is all conjecture and highly improbable. I don’t believe a word of it.” Then, giving Amelia a surreptitious wink continued quietly. “Read that book. The only thing that holds this together for me is that it accounts for Melkins’ secrecy and death. And next time try a little more tact, you’ve no idea how deep her religious beliefs go, thanks to our dear Daddy.”

She took Carrieanne by the arm and turned her away. “Come on Caz, we have to hurry.” Then she said in a strong voice, “You can tell me the rest of this unlikely story on the way home. Bye guys. Thanks for the barbecue,” and they made their way down the path and out of the clearing.

“Well, that could have gone better,” commented Rayn. “Now we’ve lost both of them. I’m sorry if I over did it a bit, but I did warn you.”

“No,” answered Amelia. “You didn’t hear what she said at the end. Claire’s with us. She’s just looking out for her sister. By the way, Armageddon doesn’t mean ‘the end of all things’. It means the final battle between good and evil. I looked it up.”

“Well then,” replied Rayn. “As soon as we find out whose side we’re on, we’d better concentrate on our fighting skills, hadn’t we?”

Chapter Twenty-One

Life returned to a semblance of normality over the next few weeks. Amelia and Rayn returned, reluctantly, to school. Things there had become a great deal worse now that Miss Dempsey was the official Head Mistress. Her policy of strict adherence to discipline and Catholic principles and her intense dislike of the two girls made it almost unbearable. Their attempts to join in any school activity, including javelin or archery, were blocked at every turn, and even the library was off limits, unless they were supervised and their book withdrawals were logged. The over-reaction by the staff to their slightest infringement was enough to keep other pupils away.

The person they saw most of was the caretaker, an oily man in his thirties who believed himself to be irresistible to young girls. He tried to act smooth but he came across as slimy. Amelia and Rayn became used to the fact that he was always within hearing distance outside the classrooms.

Bridie was working flat out in an effort to build up her stock for Valentine’s Day. She was sporting a plaster on her thumb and blamed it on her new tools rather than the alternative. She saw a lot of Antonio still, which pleased him. It also pleased Rayn, who used it as an excuse to stop over at Amelia’s more often.

Lucy carried on as best as she could, but Amelia was aware that her mother had less stamina and grew tired more quickly, but refused to discuss the problem and it caused Amelia some anxiety.

Sambo hated working under pressure, but he did enjoy what he did and, having learned to work more quickly, he was determined not to let anybody down. Not only could he produce more, but his skill at woodcarving improved beyond measure. Under the guidance of George, his knowledge of wood and its properties had also increased.

George, too, had become very busy. He had landed a contract to work on some Heavy Duty four-wheel drive off-road vehicles in his garage and was devoting much of his time to it. He was putting in a lot of hours and kept Nigel busy as well. Amelia was curious about this, as she knew that George didn’t need to work too hard to survive. But she kept her nose out and said nothing.

Nigel was looking after the twins in the mornings, getting them ready and off to school so that Molly could go jogging with the two girls. Amelia had taken charge of distance and pace, a job she relished and tended to push things a lot harder. Rayn and Molly didn’t complain and seemed to enjoy it.

It made things a bit hectic when they got back to the shop, with three of them trying to shower and get changed, but it didn’t take long to work out a routine.

The big surprise had been that, as Nigel was now working extra hours with George, Mrs Ghote, the district midwife who was on maternity leave, had offered to take the boys any time she was needed. Her three children went to school with them so it was no problem, she’d said.

Her husband, who was a chemist, owned and ran a small Herbal Remedies shop in the village. Amelia and Rayn had often wondered how they made a living. The shop didn’t do much business and Mrs Ghote worked for the NHS, not renowned for their extravagant wages. But when they discovered he worked part-time at the Hall, they just shrugged and accepted what had become to them almost inevitable.

February arrived with a pleasant surprise. Carrieanne and Claire had been told by their father that they wouldn’t be needed and could visit Amelia and Rayn whenever they wanted. Claire had known that this was just his way of ingratiating himself into their confidence to gain more information. Carrieanne didn’t care about his motives; this was a limited freedom they’d never enjoyed before.

The archery equipment had turned up along with some very blunt throwing knives, a couple of old javelins and a pair of tortured ‘epee’ fencing swords. Nigel suggested they spend a Sunday morning at the caravan site trying it out. In the end, the four girls, along with Nigel, Molly and the two boys, spent all that first Sunday there.

George turned up to check everything and make sure everyone was aware of safety procedures. He handed Molly a bag of food and suggested she cook the barbecue.

Leaving Nigel in charge, he left to spend the day with Lucy, Bridie and Antonio. Amelia gave him a hug and a kiss and thanked him. “Hey,” he had said, “I don’t have to cook or wash up. It’s a no lose situation.”

Carrieanne and Claire showed little interest in the sports side of things, but found they adored looking after the boys, once they got the hang of it. They coaxed Horace into letting them all ride him, much to Rayn’s consternation. She knew what damage those huge hooves could do.

The only hitch was when Zac let the rabbits out before the dogs were tied up. Panic took over for a few minutes but no one was hurt, or eaten.

The day seemed to set a pattern. They found themselves out there most Sundays. The cold weather wasn’t a problem but the rain was a spoiler now and again.

Lorraine turned up when she could, dressed in cowboy boots, jeans, hide jacket and one of Bridie’s hats. She usually brought a couple of bottles of wine with her, but, on Nigel’s insistence, they didn’t touch it until the sports practice was over and packed away. Sambo became a regular feature, with his mouth organ and dancing. They all noticed that he and Lorraine were often dressed alike.

Amelia kept quiet whenever she noticed Rayn and Claire vanish into the woods looking for ‘edible fungi’ or some other excuse to snatch a cigarette.

The vicar turned up once. He didn’t like cold weather or scuffing through dried leaves and bracken. He especially didn’t like the smell of Horace, who seemed equally offended by him. They waited for him to leave before dragging out the targets.

Rayn was pleased. Her pond water sample had proved inconclusive and she’d seen more wildlife on the meadows. Even a rare snipe pecking at some water snails and worms, followed by an army of twitchers armed to the teeth with cameras and binoculars. Some mallards and widgeons had moved in and her magnificent mute swans had stayed for a few days. Still no herons though, and she worried about the fish.

She, Caz and Claire had shaken off the shadows of the conspiracy and its menacing implications. Amelia, however, was still trying to decipher the Professor’s book.

Having isolated the paragraphs that corresponded to the prime numbers, she was now reading the actual message and it was scaring the hell out of her. She was unable to decide on a course of action, and the nearer she got to the end she found more and more reasons for not reading.

Valentine’s Day was fast approaching. The continued pressure of working in the shop, school, homework, the gymnasium and running, as well as her morning and evening routine with her mother, was beginning to take its toll on Amelia, by the time she got to bed each evening after her full and hectic day she was extremely tired and it was becoming difficult to maintain her perspective. It wasn’t like her to procrastinate and she wondered if she was losing her nerve.

She coped well but knew she was relying on her perseverance and determination more than her energy and strength. There was no time to recover for the next day. She tried to talk to Rayn about her feelings, but to compound the problem she’d noticed a subtle change in their relationship.

Rayn spent a lot of time with Carrieanne and her sister, and it was becoming apparent that they only included her, Amelia, when they needed her advice or opinions. This worried her because she could see a gap opening up between ‘them’ and ‘her’. And she didn’t like it much.

Love Week, as Bridie called it, was the best they had ever had. Lucy had reduced the cut flowers and sold only special orders, turning more space over to Bridie and Sambo, realising that her customers wanted something unusual. She had also started selling her precious Bonsai trees, which prior to then, had been just for display only. She had concentrated her efforts on potted plants and shrubs from her green house (and a few continents with exotic climates).

Bridie had refused to compromise and stuck to her original style and, between her and Sambo, they had drawn the customers in. The big success of the week was, unbelievably, Molly. She had designed and made different sizes and styles of heart-shaped boards, and covered them with red silk padding to which she pinned two crossed roses, or whatever the customer wanted. Rayn, who had shown her how to do the silk padding, spent most of that last Saturday in Lucy’s workshop making them as fast as she could.

By the time the shop closed that day everyone was too exhausted to celebrate and Lucy was in bed early. Amelia lay on the living room sofa to rest for a few minutes, but fell asleep and knew nothing till Sunday morning.

She was up early and after a vigorous shower, she cooked a full breakfast. She and her mother were starving and they lingered for a while free of pressure.

Amelia felt refreshed and more energetic than she had for ages. She felt that, apart from her still slightly bruised face, she had regained some of her younger, less troubled self.

“And what are you doing today?” Lucy asked her daughter.

“Molly wants to try her first distance run. Rayn and I are taking her to Warem Down and back to see how she gets on,” answered Amelia.

“Will she make it?” enquired her mother.

“Oh yes,” Amelia assured her. “It might take her some time to recover, but she’ll be okay. We’re going straight down to Bridie’s when we get back. Nigel and the boys are setting up the gear and getting the barbecue ready. Do you mind, Mum?” she asked.

“No, not at all,” came the reply. “In fact, I may have a surprise for you later.” Amelia knew it would be an exercise in futility to push for more details.

“Oh well,” she replied instead. “Now we have to get ready for Mother’s Day, I suppose.”

“Don’t remind me,” her mother laughed. “It’ll take a while to get over this year’s Valentines. What a week that was.”

***

During the run to Warem Down Amelia felt better than ever. Her body responded to everything she asked of it with relish. Rayn and Molly seemed to be running together and she caught a few odd glances and the occasional giggle. She chose to ignore it and enjoy the day, which was still unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. Some bees were moving around and some small but flowering daffodils poked their heads up out of the carpet of dried winter leaves.

Molly did the run well and when they got back to the caravan site Amelia was speechless. The place was hardly recognisable.

A long wooden table had been covered with sheets and a motley collection of chairs and benches had been pulled around it. The barbecue was in full swing, with Bridie and Antonio, wearing chef’s whites, nurturing an array of meats and fish like a couple of doting foster parents, closely supervised by Jude and Gypsy. Sambo and Lorraine appeared from the caravan carrying trays of drinks.

George and Nigel were competing with the archery equipment; Caz and Claire were pampering a contented Horace with a wash and brush-up, while Zac and Miles were feeding the rabbits.

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