The Disappearances (19 page)

That’s what Thomas had taught him over the past few weeks. Shown him. Thomas knew everything. It was like he’d swallowed Wikipedia or something. He knew everything about Devil, about Dalston, about his life before, about the estate, about music, about politics, about anything. Every time Devil mentioned something, Thomas would raise an eyebrow and shoot out a whole load of information. Then he’d give him one of his little triumphant smiles.

But that wasn’t what he’d taught Devil. What he’d taught Devil was to think bigger than his home turf, to see his old ambitions for what they really were: pathetic.

‘Who cares about Dalston?’ he’d said one time, that little smile on his face. ‘You think anyone outside of Dalston gives a monkey’s about it? You think you’re going to get respect because your gang’s the biggest in Dalston? Only from people in Dalston. And who gives a toss about them?’

And Devil had wanted to punch him then, like he always punched people who disagreed with him, disrespected him. But he couldn’t, not with Thomas’s protection all around him, so instead he’d stayed silent and sulked, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised Thomas was right. Dalston was a nowhere place. And then Thomas took him in the car to the middle of London, to places he’d never dreamt about going. Clubs with big queues outside and they’d just walked in. Bars that stayed open all night, full of beautiful women who swarmed around them like bees. He could tell Thomas enjoyed it, enjoyed the money, the power, the attention. And Devil enjoyed it too. He drank champagne, ate food that tasted so good he salivated whenever he remembered it, had women fawning over him, laughing at his jokes, making him feel like a king.

Devil didn’t know if he was part of Thomas’s crew or what; every so often Thomas would send him a text, then turn up in that car with just a few hours’ notice, and Devil would drop everything and get in. His crew kept bugging him, asking who the man in the car was, but Devil wasn’t saying nothing. This was about him, not them. He was a winner, a leader; they were just his congregation. They got told what he wanted to tell them, that’s all.

And soon he wouldn’t tell them nothing at all. Soon he’d be gone. He didn’t know when, but Thomas gave him hints. There was a big job, something Devil had in his destiny. He was going to be a leader. He was going to have followers, just like his dad did; he was going to tell them what to do, how to live their lives. And he’d be leaving Dalston. After that, maybe he’d have a car of his own.

He heard an engine and looked up, smiling a big toothy grin. He didn’t even say goodbye to his gang these days; a nod was enough. They knew he was going on important business; they knew to keep the show on the road until he got back.

But the smile soon evaporated from his face. It wasn’t the Mercedes. It was blue and white. The doors opened and two coppers, a man and a woman, got out and walked towards him. The same two coppers as before. His crew melted away, incriminating evidence disappearing with them.

‘Yeah?’ Devil looked at them insolently. He’d known it was too good to be true, knew they were here simply because he’d congratulated himself on the fact that they’d been leaving him alone. Stupid.

‘We’ve been talking to people.’ It was the man speaking, the one with ginger hair, in his usual threatening tone. ‘It’s only a matter of time before we charge you with the murder. You know that. Reckon we can add manslaughter, too. Boy you forced to do your dirty work for you. How does it feel to be a killer, Devil? Feel good? Feel proud of yourself?’

Devil rolled his eyes, affected a bored expression. ‘Whatever,’ he said.

‘Thing is, we’ve got the knife, Devil. We’ve got the knife and we’ve got the mother’s testimony, telling us you put her son up to it.’

‘I don’t know nothing about a knife,’ Devil said, his eyes narrowing. ‘I never put no one up to nothing.’

The female copper smiled. ‘I bet you don’t. But we’re going to connect this knife to you, and when we do you’re going down for a very long time.’

Devil stayed silent. The knife was clean; he’d seen to that. They didn’t have nothing on him. Otherwise they’d be charging him instead of hanging about.

‘And in the meantime’ she continued, ‘we’re watching you. We’re watching your every move. You so much as cough and we’ll be onto you. You think about that,’ she said, then they turned and walked back to the car. As it drove off, his crew emerged again out of the shadows.

Devil looked at them irritably. ‘What?’ he asked them. ‘What?’

Then he stood up and put his hands in his pocket. He was sick of this place. He was sick of all of it.

He strode off angrily, down the walkway, past the losers, out onto the road. He wanted out. He wanted something better. He kicked some loose stones on the road; they hit something. A car. Not a police car this time. It was a Mercedes, driving towards him.

The door opened for him; he slid in, sat back, put on his seatbelt.

‘You want to be careful, kicking stones like that.’ Thomas held out his hand; he was in the back.

Devil shrugged. ‘I’m sick of this place,’ he said gruffly. ‘Am I joining your crew or what? What do you want with me anyway? You turn up, then you disappear and you don’t tell me nothing.’

Thomas looked at him for a long moment, then the car started to move. They drove in silence for a few minutes until eventually Thomas spoke again. ‘Don’t worry about the police, Devil. You’re safe. They won’t be able to pin anything on you. And in the meantime I’ve got a job for you.’

‘A job?’ Devil’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Sure, man. Tell me what and when. I can get anything you want done for you.’

‘Not get it done,’ Thomas said quietly. ‘I don’t want you getting one of your boys to do this. I want you to do it. Understand? This will be your way of proving yourself to me. Showing me you’ve got what it takes. You do it well and that knife will disappear. The knife, the testimony, the whole lot. You do it well and you’ll never come back to this estate again. Okay?’

He was staring at him intently; Devil nodded quickly. ‘Sure,’ he said, his voice a little less cocky. ‘Sure, whatever.’

‘Good.’ Thomas said, his thin lips inching upwards at the corners. ‘That’s very good, Devil.’

Raffy took a swig of water and sat back in the lush grass to enjoy a moment of sunshine, a moment of peace before the bell went, before it was time to go back to work. Work. He’d never known work like it; back-breaking, sweat-inducing work that left him gasping, that made his bones ache, that left him so exhausted he often could barely utter a word when he got home, falling onto the bed in a stupor of tiredness.

But he loved the order, the rules, the discipline and the camaraderie. For the ten hours a day that he was at work, Raffy felt like the world made sense, that he had some control over it, that everything would be okay. Work was simple, and here, at least, his work was achieving something, feeding people, nourishing them. He was a farmer; he could hold his head high around the Settlement. For once in his life he wasn’t a figure of hate, of mistrust.

At least, he hadn’t been.

He sighed heavily and propped himself up on his elbows. He’d apologised to Neil, had raced round to him as soon as he’d left Benjamin, had begged his forgiveness, had even said he’d take some classes, then he’d returned home, shamefaced, to apologise to Evie, to promise that nothing like that would ever happen again.

Neil had listened, had asked Raffy some questions, had watched him closely. And then he had embraced him, told him that he was part of the Settlement now, that he was his brother, that there was no need to apologise. Raffy had been humbled by Neil’s outstretched hand of friendship, his immediate forgiveness, his repeated offer of lessons and whatever book Raffy wanted to read.

It had been Evie who had not met his eye, who had not been able to say anything in response to his desperate pleas for forgiveness; Evie who had simply regarded him stonily then gone to work, her back not quite as straight as it usually was, her expression reproachful even when he met her for lunch later that day. He had let her down. He had let them down.

So he’d decided to do what Benjamin had suggested and throw himself into work, focus his mind on upholding the Settlement’s values, on being part of it, a worthwhile part, a meaningful one. He had worked harder than he’d ever thought possible, arriving early, refusing breaks, carrying the load of two men, not one. And actually he felt much better. Exhausted, broken, aching muscles that he hadn’t known existed, but better. And things with Evie had got better, too; gradually she was thawing, meeting his eye, sometimes even smiling at his jokes.

Things were going to be okay, he thought to himself. He was going to prove himself to her, prove himself worthy of her. And when he and Evie were married, they would be more than okay – his life would be complete. It was all he had ever dreamt of, more than he had ever expected. And when they were bonded together for ever, then he was sure that he would relax, would stop being so fearful, so paranoid that someone was going to take her away from him. He knew that Benjamin was right about trusting, about letting Evie be free. And he was trying. Trying so hard. But it wasn’t in his nature to relax completely. Experience had taught him that the hawks were always circling. They had always circled over Raffy; he would always expect them.

He let his head fall backwards so that he was lying flat, looking up at the sky. Such an open sky out here, he found himself thinking, so much bigger than the City’s sky, so much expanse of air, of light, of oxygen.

Here in the Settlement he could breathe.

Here he could finally just be.

He heard the bell, pulled himself up to a seated position, then put his hand down to the ground to heave himself up. And then he stopped, because there was someone standing close to him, someone he hadn’t seen before, someone he didn’t recognise. He stared at him, his pulse racing. There was no one else near; the men usually ate their lunch next to the building site that sat near the farmland, a site which promised new houses, new classrooms. Now that the bell had rung the builders would be clambering back onto roofs and towards cement mixers while the farmers would be winding their way back to the fields. Only Raffy chose to come out here to eat, a five-minute walk from the site, where he could lie on the grass and enjoy the smell of freedom.

‘Nice-looking buildings going up. You must be excited,’ the man said.

Raffy didn’t say anything; he stared at the man suspiciously. He didn’t recognise him and there was something about him that he didn’t trust.

The man smiled. ‘Sorry, you don’t know who I am. I’m a friend of Benjamin’s. This place is very impressive.’

Raffy’s eyes narrowed. No one had said anything about a visit. ‘You know Benjamin?’

‘Used to, a long time ago,’ the man said. ‘So you’re Raffy, huh?’

Raffy looked at him sharply.

The man laughed. ‘Cautious, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I am too. Makes sense to be. Particularly in your shoes.’

‘In my shoes?’

‘Coming from the City, having Lucas as a brother. You know.’ The man shrugged. He had a pinched face. Small eyes. Weak jaw. Raffy didn’t like him. He could overpower him in seconds.

But then he remembered Benjamin. Violence wasn’t one of the Settlement’s core values. Instead, Raffy straightened up, every sense on high alert. ‘Who are you?’ he said, moving towards the man menacingly. ‘What do you want?’

‘Me? Nothing. Just …’ The man cocked his head onto one shoulder. ‘Look, I’ve got friends here. I’m not officially here … You don’t want to be telling anyone about me. But like I said, I’ve got friends. Friends who are … concerned for you. Just don’t want to tell you to your face, in case you take offence. So I said I would. No skin off my nose.’

‘Friends? Who are these friends?’ Raffy said, scanning the horizon, trying to work out whether the builders on the site would hear him if he shouted and knowing immediately that they wouldn’t.

The man shot him an uncomfortable look. ‘Can’t really say,’ he said. ‘Look, you’re busy. I can see this isn’t a great time. Just … the message was something about a watch. A gold watch. Apparently she got it back. I don’t know what that means, don’t know if it means anything to you. But that’s what I said I’d tell you. And now I have. So I’ll be on my way, if it’s all right with you. And, uh, keep up the good work. That was the other thing.’

He started to walk off; Raffy stared after him, telling himself not to listen, not to care. His mind was racing, sweat on his forehead. The watch? Was he talking about Lucas’s watch? What did he mean ‘she got it back’? He started to run, couldn’t help himself. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded as he caught up with the stranger. ‘Who gave you that message?’

The man shrugged. ‘Can’t tell you, I’m afraid. I don’t have much any more but I’ve got my word.’

Raffy stared at him angrily. ‘Where are you from? How do you have friends here if you don’t live here?’

The man smiled awkwardly, looked down at his feet. ‘Got to get accepted into the Settlement, haven’t you? I did my time, but I wasn’t deemed suitable. Too lazy, I’m afraid. Not like you. Still, like I say, I’ve got some friends who sort me out with bits of food from time to time. Anyway, I’ll see you around. Look after that girl of yours, won’t you?’

‘Raffy?’ Raffy turned to see Simon walking towards him. ‘Raffy, what are you doing? You’re late back.’

‘Sorry,’ Raffy said immediately, turning back to see the man, but he’d already disappeared.

‘Come on then,’ Simon said, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun, the other beckoning Raffy. ‘We’ve got work to do here.’

Raffy took one last look behind him and, heart thumping in his chest, he followed Simon back to the field.

Lucas woke up slowly. He felt like he was travelling up on a lift from low down beneath the earth’s surface; one false move and he would go down again. He opened his eyes but he could barely see; he felt heavy, foggy. He didn’t know where he was, how he had got here, but he knew it was not a good place. He felt it in his bones.

He closed his eyes; his heart was beginning to beat rapidly and he knew that he needed to conserve energy, needed to focus, needed to remember. Slowly, he breathed, letting oxygen fill his lungs. In, out. Calm. He could hear a mechanical whirring but no voices, nothing to indicate that there were any people near him. But that was not to say that there weren’t. They could be watching him, silently.