Thomsen used to lock his teenage son in his bedroom and tell everyone what to eat and what to wear and where they could and couldn’t go.
I’ve googled Justin since, many, many times, but found no trace of him, anywhere. I can only assume either that he died, that he emigrated somewhere obscure and remote or that he knew what had happened to us all but had decided to keep silent and not get involved. Whatever the truth, I was always secretly relieved. But once he was gone, I missed him. I hadn’t liked him at first, but he’d turned out to be the least of my bloody problems.
Months passed. Summer turned to winter. I took over Justin’s herb garden. David actively encouraged this as it fitted with his ideology. Children should be hard at work doing wholesome things. They should not be learning skills that might bring them into the evil ways of capitalism. He had no idea about the books under my bed or the very particular skill set I was developing. Each evening I brought whoever was cooking handfuls of fresh basil and fresh mint, and was petted and approved of. Birdie even ran me a bath one night when she saw me out in the rain covering over some delicate new seedlings.
‘You’re doing a good job,’ she said, handing me a towel as I walked up the stairs. ‘David’s very pleased with you.’
David’s very pleased with you.
I wanted to bite her, like a dog.
Predictably, Sally had not got the flat in Hammersmith and was still on the sofa in Brixton and was now talking about moving down to Cornwall.
She arrived one evening with Phin and Clemency in tow, three hours late after taking them to a friend’s party for the afternoon where it was clear that she had been drinking heavily. I had seen adults drunk before, many times, when my parents were still sociable and threw parties every weekend. But I’m not sure I’d seen anyone quite as drunk as Sally that evening.
‘I can’t believe’, I heard David say in a voice tense with anger, ‘that you think there is a chance in hell that anyone would let these children live with you. Look at the state of you.’
‘You!’ said Sally. ‘You can talk! Look at the state of you! Who do you think you are? You’re pathetic. Pathetic. You and that ugly girl. And God knows who else you’re fucking. God knows.’
I saw David trying to manhandle Sally towards the door. I could tell he really wanted to hit her and was trying his hardest not to.
But then my mother appeared. ‘I’ll make you a coffee,’ she said, touching Sally’s elbow, throwing David a warning glance. ‘Come on. Let’s get you sorted out.’
I feigned ignorance of the drama and appeared in the kitchen a moment later.
‘Just getting some water,’ I said, though nobody really cared. I pretended to leave but skulked quietly just inside the pantry door.
Sally was crying, silently, a handkerchief pressed to her face. I heard her say, ‘Please keep them safe. Please keep them safe for me. I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to …’ The rest of her words were swallowed up by a river boat honking its horn beyond the front door. ‘I’m so worried. Phin told me about being locked in his room and I can see, yes, that he did a bad thing. I mean God, I know, Henry could have died. But it’s just so … cold? Isn’t it? To lock a child away like that? He’s such a cold man …’
‘You know what David is like,’ replied my mother. ‘It’s his way of keeping everything together. He saved us, Sally. He really did. Before he came, I could not see the point of living each day. But now I wake up each morning and I feel happy about my existence. About myself. I am not taking from the planet. I am not plundering the earth. I am not contributing to global warming. My children are not going to end up sitting behind glass-topped desks taking money from the poor. I just wish’, she said, ‘that David had come into our lives many years before.’
41
Libby bangs her fists against the door. Miller bangs his too. The door is a solid fire door. He goes to the window to see if there are any means of escape there, but it is sealed shut and leads only to a sheer ten-floor drop.