THE CLEARING (12 page)

Chapter Twenty One

Liss

*

‘I name you Dinah.’ He lifted a thin chain from a large wicker basket and placed it around the girl’s neck. She moved off slowly and then suddenly Liss was standing in front of him.

She didn’t dare make eye contact for fear he might read her mind. She kept her eyes facing down and prayed he couldn’t hear her hammering heart.

‘I name you Deborah.’ Grey’s hands brushed her hair as he lowered the chain over her head and she suppressed a shiver of revulsion, managing not to look up.

Soon it was over and she found herself walking through an arch into a dimly lit passageway which ran down the side of the cathedral. Liss, or Deborah as she was now supposed to be called, touched the chain around her neck. She lifted out her ponytail which was trapped under it. Then she examined the small metal cross which hung from the delicate links.

Liss touched the simple pendant. It was light and small, but to her, it felt as though it weighed a ton. As though her body was being held prisoner by it. As if she herself was now in shackles. She let go of the cross and it fell back against her pinafore.

Annabelle should be along soon, as long as she had remembered to be quiet and not draw any attention to herself. Liss heard a soft tread behind her and couldn’t help turning. She breathed a sigh of thankfulness. It was her friend. She was safe. They were both safe. For now.

Liss learned that her new name ‘Deborah’ was the Hebrew name for Melissa, the Greek word for ‘bee’. She had to remember to answer to her new name and also had to remember to call Annabelle, ‘Anna’. They were told that these were more Godly names, more fitting for servants of Grey’s Church of the Epiphany.

After the naming ceremony, things returned to what now passed for normal. The two girls continued with their lessons and continued to avoid drinking the soup. There were no opportunities for escape and no one else approached them like Chloe had done. Liss and Annabelle were on their own.

Liss had hoped that after the naming ceremony, she might have heard something from FJ, but she hadn’t had any indication that he was even here. Perhaps that man outside their farm – Mr Carter – perhaps he had killed FJ, or taken him somewhere else, or let him go. . .

Weeks dragged on. Winter came around and then spring and still nothing changed. Liss even had moments where she considered drinking the soup. At least she wouldn’t have this constant fear of discovery rolling around in her stomach. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. What if she drank the soup and then FJ turned up to break them out? She would be a zombie, unable to think for herself. Unable to escape.

Annabelle behaved as though she was spaced out most of the time anyway. She wasn’t anything like the lively feisty girl she had been a year ago. But the other girls in their dormitory were gradually becoming a little less docile. More aware. Liss had an idea that the women had stopped putting so much stuff in the soup. Maybe they had decreased the doses over time. After all, none of the women seemed as drugged up as the children.

One year became two years became three years became four and soon Liss could hardly remember what life had been like before The Close.  She had an image in her head of two kindly parents and a farmhouse bathed in sunshine. But beyond that the details were fuzzy, a half-memory.

They only saw James Grey three or four times a year for religious ceremonies and that was three or four times too much as far as Liss was concerned. More girls joined them and their living area expanded. They were allocated more space and Liss was often called upon to help with the building work and decoration. She enjoyed this part of her life more than any other. The lessons were boring, the church services bewildering and a little scary, but the manual labour soothed her mind and allowed her to forget the fear for a few blissful hours.

Liss wished she were brave enough to approach some of the new girls, as Chloe had done with her. Brave enough to whisper to them not to drink the soup. But after witnessing Grey’s harsh judgement in the cathedral, she knew she didn’t have the courage to risk her life like Chloe had. Perhaps if Chloe had known where her words would have led her, she wouldn’t have been so brave either.

When Liss was fourteen years of age, she realised that she had lived at The Close for the same number of years that she had lived at home. Seven years on the farm with her parents, seven years under the rule of James Grey. Was this going to be her whole life now? Would she be here forever?

One day at lunch, out of the corner of her eye, Liss saw Sarah and another of the women whispering frantically and glancing over at her. Liss’s stomach dropped to the floor. Was this it? Was this the day she had been dreading? The day she was discovered. They must have found out about the soup. What should she do? Could she run? But her legs were jelly.

Sarah was coming over to their table. She was definitely staring right at her. Liss hastily looked away, adopting a semi-glazed expression.

‘Come with me please, Deborah,’ Sarah said, her voice too neutral for Liss to determine whether or not she was in trouble.

Liss’s breathing grew shallow and her head swam, but she forced herself to stand. She felt Anna’s eyes on her and was able to quickly squeeze the younger girl’s hand in reassurance.

Following Sarah out of the dining hall, they left by a different exit. It was the way she had come in, seven years’ earlier. They walked out into the lobby, past the wash basins and coat hooks and left the building. The sun was bright and she screwed up her eyes against its glare. They were in the small courtyard. It was empty and still, apart from some trees swaying beyond the wall.

‘Follow me,’ Sarah said. ‘Quickly.’ She strode over to a metal gate set into the wall, drew out a key and clicked open the lock. The gate opened and Liss followed her through.

As Sarah locked the gate behind them, Liss cast a surreptitious glance around before quickly lowering her eyes again, for this courtyard was filled with robed guards and workmen. The only man Liss had seen for years was James Grey. Even the boys had never attended cathedral services at the same time as the girls again. So it was shocking and a little scary to be in the presence of so many males after so long. It made Liss more convinced that she was about to meet her death. For what other explanation could there be for this trip out of the women’s quarters?

It was rumoured that all girls would be married when they reached the age of eighteen. But Liss didn’t know if this was truth or gossip. However, it was true that the majority of girls did leave the dormitories at eighteen.

Sarah crossed the courtyard and entered a building. This time, Liss kept her eyes fixed either on the flagstone floor or on Sarah’s back, too terrified to take in these strange new surroundings. Their footsteps echoed in her ears as they continued on through the entrance hall and along wooden corridors. Soon they emerged into the open air once more.

Liss hazarded another glance around. A middle-aged man in a suit stood outside the building. It looked as though he had been waiting for them as he visibly relaxed when he saw Sarah.

‘Wait here,’ Sarah said to her.

She approached the man and they spoke for a few moments. The man looked as though he was enjoying the conversation, but Sarah sounded annoyed. Liss strained her ears but only caught odd snatches of conversation:

‘. . . for a few minutes,’ the man said.

‘. . . bad idea,’ Sarah snapped

‘. . . not your decision. Come here, girl.’

Liss realised the man was now speaking to her. She forced one foot in front of the other. If they were going to kill her she hoped they would do it quickly. She didn’t think she could bear to be paraded in front of everyone in the cathedral, humiliated and terrorised by Grey.

‘Wait here. I’ll have her back in ten minutes,’ the man said to Sarah.

Liss’s heart lifted a little. Maybe she wasn’t to be killed after all.

‘Deborah is it?’ the man said to her.

She nodded.

‘Follow me and you’re to do exactly as I tell you. Do it right and you will have a free day to yourself tomorrow. Do it wrong and you will suffer the consequences.’

Liss gulped and nodded, remembering to keep her face blank as always. The man pulled a piece of cloth from his jacket pocket. He shook it out.

‘Stand still,’ he said. ‘I’m going to put this over your head for a minute.’

Liss realised it was a hood. She clenched her fists and willed herself not to scream as he slipped the material over her head. She could see a faint sunshiny glow through the dark material which smelt of The Close – that musty, dark scent of old classrooms and corridors.

‘There’s a good girl,’ he said, talking to her like she was one of her dad’s horses. ‘We’re going to walk a few paces and then I’ll take off the hood. When I remove it, you are to stare straight ahead without turning around. Do you understand?’

Liss nodded.

‘Whatever you hear, you are not to turn your head or strain your eyes to look. There will be a door in front of you. Look at the door and at nothing else.’

She felt his hand on her elbow.

‘Walk slow and steady until I tell you to stop.’

She did as he asked, the fear threatening to topple her. A faint shout came from the distance and then a woman’s scream. Liss tried to concentrate on her breathing and on trying to remember the man’s instructions. She was to stare at the door. Nothing but the door.

He told her to stop and then removed the hood. The light made her momentarily blind and then the wooden door bloomed into focus. She stared at it as though her life depended upon it. Which it probably did. Her eyes bored into the metal bands and studs of the door which merged with the dark knotted wood. Her gaze then slid down to the iron handle and the key-shaped hole. Then to the lintel and the doorframe and the grey bricks surrounding it.

She knew the man had told Sarah she would be returned in ten minutes, but perhaps that had been a ruse. Meaningless words to keep her calm. Perhaps he had no intention of returning her. Any minute now he could slit her throat or shoot her in the head.

Was this where they would kill her? Was this where it all ended? She closed her eyes. And then she heard her name being called. Her real name.

‘Lissy! Oh my God, Lissy! Is it you?’

Liss opened her eyes, but she didn’t dare turn her head. She recognised that voice. It was her mum.

Chapter Twenty Two

Liss

*

The desire to turn her head was so overwhelming that she couldn’t breathe. What would they do to her if she did? Would they kill her? But her mum and possibly her dad were nearby. Close enough to shout to her. After all these years.

But then again, what if it wasn’t her mum? What if it was only someone who sounded like her and this was all a trick to see if she would disobey them and turn around.

Liss continued to stare straight ahead at the wooden door. It faded in and out of focus as old memories crowded her brain. Things she hadn’t thought about in years. The soapy smell of her mother’s cheek as she kissed her goodnight. Baking cakes together in the kitchen. Holding mum’s hand so tightly as they visited the market at the compound. What she wouldn’t give to turn and see her mother’s face right now. To collapse into her arms and be swept up in kisses. To leave this place.

But how could she be sure it wasn’t a trick?

She would do it. She would look. . .

But in that split second between decision and action, the cloth hood came down over her head once more and everything went dark. Liss wanted to scream and rip the hood from her head. But she didn’t. She stood and let the man lead her away. A tear fell and she used the hood to blot it away.

As she stumbled, blind, alongside the man who held her arm, guiding her away from the thing she had dreamed of all these years. She began to convince herself that of course it hadn’t been her parents. If they’d known she was here, they would have got her out years ago. And why would the man have made her stand there while her mum called out to her?

It had to have been a test. And she had passed. She didn’t let herself think about the alternative – that her mother had come to see her and she, Liss, had been too afraid to turn around.

After that incident, Liss hadn’t let herself think too much about anything. She threw herself into her chores and lessons and even drank a little of the soup from time to time. Whenever she did this, Anna became agitated, so she stopped again. If it weren’t for Annabelle, Liss was sure she would have had drunk two full bowls of the stuff every day. But it had little effect on her anyway. Liss was convinced that it was just normal soup now. The other girls she had arrived here with were no longer spaced out, even though they were still fairly docile.

Again, life in The Close became slow and predictable. Things occasionally happened which started speculation and a little whispered gossip. Accidents occurred or sometimes someone went crazy and lost their mind. Once a group of armed raiders broke in and tried to steal from their stores. They got caught but Liss never did find out what happened to them.

Over the years, many young girls disappeared from their quarters to be replaced with new girls. Liss didn’t know where they went and she was never offered an explanation. She certainly couldn’t ask. The rumours were that they were given new jobs in other areas of the city. Liss wondered if she or Anna would ever be moved. Part of her hoped so and part of her hoped not. They hadn’t been outside The Cathedral Close since she arrived here. She wondered if the main city was much different.

At age fifteen, her lessons ceased and Liss was put in charge of a group of much younger girls. She taught them to sew, to grow vegetables and to cook. She much preferred doing this to enduring the interminable lessons and time now passed more pleasantly. The best thing was that she was now in charge of her dormitory. The awful Leah had been sent elsewhere.

A few months after her sixteenth birthday, Liss was in the dining hall with her girls. As group leader, she was no longer given the same soup as the others, but she still only ever took a couple of tiny sips. Anna still sat at the same table and still slept in the bed next to her, although they were no longer in lessons together. Anna had to continue on for another two years until she reached the age of fifteen. Everyone still assumed they were sisters and Liss hoped this meant they would never be separated.

As Liss sat at the table chewing on a piece of bread, a sudden shriek from the top table made her start. She snapped her head up. It was Sarah. And a robed man stood facing her! A man. Here. In the women’s quarters. Sarah was staring at him, ashen-faced, as though she had seen a ghost. And then she ran from the room, holding her skirts to stop herself tripping.

The hall was always quiet, but now a shocked hush fell over the room. Another of the elder women rose from the top table and walked out, followed by the man.

Liss’s heart began to pound. What was going on? She caught the eye of several other group leaders, but they turned away, not showing any worry or distress in their expressions.

After lunch, Liss mulled over the strange events. She and her girls were in their workroom, busy hemming robes. Something shocking had obviously occurred. What could it have been? Would anybody tell her? Probably not. But the desire to find out overcame any sense of self-preservation. She needed to know.

‘Wait here, girls,’ she said. ‘I’ll return shortly.’

The girls obediently continued sewing, unquestioning.

Liss left the room. She now wore the long skirt and grey blouse which marked her out as a group leader. She had been secretly thrilled to wear these new clothes as she was sick of her worn out pinafore. Her skirts swished along the wooden floor as she made her way to the infirmary. Nurse was the most approachable person in The Close. Hopefully she would know what was going on.

Liss stood outside Nurse’s office door and knocked twice.

No reply.

She waited and then knocked again. Harder.

Maybe this was a bad idea. She turned to leave.

‘Can I help you, Deborah?’

Liss turned to see one of the elders coming out of another room. It was Naomi. Liss had never spoken directly to her before. She was quite old with a stern expression. She vaguely remembered her as the teacher who had told them to confess to The Listeners. But that had been years ago when she’d first arrived here.

‘Oh. No. Sorry. I came to see Nurse.’

‘Nurse is busy.’

Liss bowed her head and turned to go.

‘Wait, child.’

Liss stopped and looked up.

‘Are you ill?’

‘A headache, that’s all,’ Liss lied.

‘I may have something for you. Come.’

Liss hesitated and then followed Naomi into her room - an office. Beneath a frosted window sat a light-coloured wooden desk. Shelves lined the left hand wall, but there were no books on them, just stacks of numbered box files.

Naomi walked behind her desk and pulled open a draw. She rummaged around for a few seconds before drawing out a small white pot.

‘Magic pills,’ she said with a smile.

Liss assumed she was joking and tried to smile back.

‘I take it you haven’t heard the news,’ Naomi said.

‘News? No.’

Naomi gestured to one of the faded wooden chairs. Liss sat in the closest. Naomi sat in her chair and sighed. She poured a cup of water from the tin jug on her desk and pushed it across to Liss. Was this stern woman about to tell her what was going on?

‘Hold out your hand,’ Naomi said.

Liss did as she was asked. Naomi prised open the lid of the pot and tipped a tiny white stone onto Lissy’s palm.

‘What . . . What is it?’

‘No need to look so terrified. It’s a headache pill. You’re lucky. This is my last pot of tablets. After these, it’s back to the vinegar wraps and Feverfew.’ She wrinkled her nose.

‘Oh no,’ Liss said. ‘I couldn’t . . .’ She didn’t even have a headache. It was simply an excuse she had used.

‘Psht,’ Naomi said. ‘Wash it down with water.’

Liss thought she had better do it. Gingerly she placed the small stone tablet thing on her tongue. She tasted sugar and then an awful bitterness. Quickly she took a swig of water and swallowed. Naomi did the same.

‘I’ve been watching you, Deborah. You’re a good girl. Bright and hard working. I think it was God’s will that I bumped into you today.’

Liss noticed a ticking sound. She hadn’t heard that noise in a long time. Not since she was a young child, back home. She gazed around the room until she located the source of the noise. On one of the shelves sat a small brass clock. Liss suddenly pictured the sitting room at home with the grandfather clock in the corner. She and FJ used to take turns winding it up and setting the pendulum swinging. She hadn’t thought about that clock for years.

Naomi was still talking: ‘Something terrible happened today. Something that has shaken our whole community.’

Liss wondered if Naomi would tell her more.

‘There has been the most terrible attack. I can’t quite believe it’s happened. But it may mean a big change. We must prepare ourselves for the worst.’

‘What attack?’ Liss asked, Naomi’s words only beginning to sink in.

‘You would have found out soon enough anyway. It pains me to tell you, but Our Father has been grievously hurt. That’s why Nurse isn’t here. All medical staff have been called to his side.’

‘Will he be alright?’ Liss asked. She had the unchristian thought that she hoped he wouldn’t be alright. That this would be the end of him and she could finally go home. But then she suddenly realised she wasn’t totally unhappy here anymore. That she actually enjoyed her work. This realisation shocked her more than the news about James Grey.

‘We must all pray for his fast recovery. Matthew is at his side doing everything he can.’

Matthew was James Grey’s son. Not his true son, but his chosen head disciple who had taken on many of his roles. It was said that he was as beautiful as an angel and that the light of God shone from his eyes.

‘What happened to Our Father?’ Liss asked.

Naomi hesitated before answering. ‘Intruders attacked him this morning. They tried to kill him at breakfast. They were children by all accounts.’

Liss gasped. ‘How?’ she asked, before she could stop herself. ‘Sorry.’ She shook her head and stared into her lap. It did not do to ask too many questions. It was not looked upon favourably.

‘Don’t you have a class to attend to?’ Naomi asked.

‘Yes. My children are . . .’

‘. . . Well then you must go. Headache or no headache, we must not shirk our duties.’

‘Of course. I’m sorry.’

‘You’re a good girl. We will pray for Our Father and I will see you later.’

Liss stood and left the room, her mind spinning with all she had heard.