Numbers

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

I gave them exactly what they were waiting to hear. I held some of it back, of course. None of their sodding business what had happened between Spider and me. That was between us. But everything else, plus some “information” of my own about people in the photos they showed me.

They talked to me, with a tape recorder going, and then they wrote it all down and got me to sign it. I had no problem putting my name to it. This was all part of the plan, taking me one step nearer to where I wanted to be.

“So when do I see Spider?” I said when I’d signed the statement.

“It’ll take a bit of arranging – they’re still interviewing him. He was taken back to London, Paddington Green.”

“Now just wait a minute…”

“No, it’s all right, love. I’m going to take your statement back to London, see how they’re getting on, and then I’ll be back. I’ll bring Dawson back here.”

So it was going to be a few hours, then. Nothing I could do about that.

They gathered their stuff together, clipped their briefcases shut, and were gone. On the way out, they shook hands with me, like we were business partners or something. That’s a good sign, I thought. They’re showing that they’ve made a deal with me. I had to trust them now – what else could I do?

By now it was lunchtime and Anne, the rector’s wife, had brought me some scrambled eggs on toast, kept warm under a wrapping of silver foil. She didn’t eat with me, but kind of hung around, like she was waiting for something. Eventually, she squeezed some words out awkwardly.

“Jem, can I talk to you?”

I shrugged. Didn’t bother me one way or the other.

She went up to the door and closed it, so that we were alone together in the vestry, just me and her. She wants to persuade me to leave, I’m causing her husband too much trouble, I thought. But I was wrong.

“They’re saying…they’re saying that you can tell when people are going to die.” Her face was creased into a frown as she searched my face.

I tried not to look, but I couldn’t avoid her eyes, her need for contact was too strong. 06082011.

“Oh?” I said, willing her not to ask me.

“I’m ill, Jem. I’ve got an illness. I haven’t told Stephen, so please…don’t…”

Hearing her speak the rector’s – her husband’s – name made him more human; made me think I might have been wrong about him earlier. Yes, he was going to live for another thirty years or so, but maybe he wasn’t going to be spoiled for the rest of his life. Maybe it was going to be lonely nights, takeout and boiled eggs on his own in an empty house.

“The thing is…I need to know. How long I’ve got. So I can plan things, make sure the children are OK, make sure that Stephen will be all right.”

“Children?” Another shock.

“Well, they’re pretty grown-up now. Nineteen and twenty-two. But I want to make sure they’re well set, try and pay up the college debts, you know.” She must have realized that I didn’t, because she laughed nervously. “Well, perhaps you don’t, but I’ll feel happier if there aren’t any loose ends. Happier…not happy…” She trailed off.

“I can’t tell you. It wouldn’t be right.”

“You do know, though.”

I chewed my lip.

“You do know,” she repeated. “I shouldn’t feel so scared, should I? ‘In the true and certain knowledge of eternal life’…” There were tears in the corners of her eyes now, threatening to burst out and trickle down her face. “Why isn’t that a comfort?”

I was the last person to ask about that. She sat, lost in her own thoughts for a bit. Suddenly, I thought of Britney, how her family had come to terms with her brother’s illness.

“I think you should tell him,” I said.

“Stephen?”

I nodded.

“I know. I’ve put it off. For a start, while it’s still a secret, it doesn’t seem so real. Sometimes I can pretend it’s not happening, for an hour or so – well, for a few minutes. And then, the other thing is – it will break his heart.” Her voice quavered. “I know he’s a bit pompous – severe, even – but we’ve been so strong together; a good team. How on earth will he cope without me?” The tears were coming for real now, and she leaned forward and held her hankie tight against her eyes, like she was trying to force the tears to stay inside.

I waited until she stopped and was sitting up again.

“I’m sorry I can’t help,” I said. And I was, I really was. I felt completely useless.

“Oh, but you have, Jem, you have. Just telling you has made it easier to face. It’s given me the courage.” She grabbed my hands, and I fought the urge to snatch them away. I couldn’t say anything. I just wanted her to let go, to take her pain away from me. After a while, she did. She stood up, smoothed down her skirt, and shook her head, like she was shaking away the despair. She went to open the door. “Thank you, Jem. God bless you.”

As far as I could see, I hadn’t done anything. When she’d started crying, it had been dead embarrassing, but it had also been difficult not to join in. Her tears at the thought of dying mirrored my creeping horror of being left alone. Two sides of the same coin.

Suddenly, the walls of the vestry started to close in on me. I needed a bit of breathing space. I wandered out into the abbey. There were quite a few people around, and I had a feeling that several of them had clocked me as I walked over the memorial stones, trying not to tread on the names of the dead.

After a few minutes, a woman wearing a head scarf came up to me. I was in the chapel, the place where I’d sat to get warm the morning Simon had let me in.

“Excuse me,” she said uncertainly. “Are you Jem, the girl they’re all talking about?”

“I dunno,” I said. “I am Jem, but I don’t know about anything else.”

“You’ve been on the news, the hunt for you, and there are all sorts of stories on the Internet.” She was standing in front of me, but her legs were starting to sag. “Do you mind if I sit down? I’m a bit…tired.”

To be honest, I did mind. I had a pretty good idea where this conversation was heading, and I didn’t want to get into all that. I just wanted to be left alone. I said nothing, but she sat down anyway, right up close to me on the cushioned stone bench.

“The thing is,” she carried on, “they’re saying that you can see the future. People’s futures. That’s why you ran away from the Eye.”

She stopped and looked at me, and I met her gaze and I did see her future, or at least her end. Two and a half years away. And I thought, You stupid, stupid girl, Jem. I should never, never have told anyone – it should have been my secret right to the end.

“It’s just rumors,” I muttered. “You know what people are like.”

“But there’s something, isn’t there? There’s something different about you.” She was searching my face, like she’d find some sort of answer there. “Can you?” she said. “Can you see into the future?”

I was squirming in my seat now. I tried not to look at her, kept my eyes down at my hands and my feet, kept my mouth shut. It didn’t put her off. In fact, she reached up and picked at the end of her scarf, and then unwound it, revealing her scalp, nearly bald, with a few tufts of hair here and there. It made her look shockingly naked.

She reached out to touch my hand. I wanted to push her away, tell her to back off. I can’t explain to you how odd it was to have a stranger sitting up close to me, wanting to touch me. I’d spent a lifetime making sure there was space between me and everyone else, putting up walls. Physical contact with anyone made me make a face, show my revulsion, move away. Except with Spider, of course.

Everything had been different with him.

The strength of this woman’s longing stopped me, though – perhaps somewhere deep inside me I was a decent person after all. I put my hand on top of hers and gently moved it away. Her fingers closed on mine, she felt the scar on my hand and turned it over, gasping when she saw the red, angry tear from the barbed wire.

“What?”

“The mark of the cross on your hand.”

This was too much now.

“You’re joking!” I said. “I cut it on some barbed wire, that’s all. That’s all.”

She continued to cradle my hand in hers.

“Please tell me what you know. I can take it.”

I shook my head. “I can’t tell you anything. I’m sorry.” I felt trapped, useless. I stood up. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to…I need to…”

She took the hint and stood up, too, gathering her bag and her scarf. She started to wind it ’round her head again.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you,” I said, and I meant it. She pressed her lips together into a line and nodded, her emotions too near the surface now for her to speak.

I left her there, fiddling with her scarf, and blundered out into the main church. Simon was standing with his back to me, talking to an old man, halfway down the main aisle. When he saw me, the man broke off in midsentence, pushed past Simon, and headed straight for me.

He was so thin his skeleton was showing through his skin, and his eyes were almost glassy. I tried to avoid looking at him, but I saw his number as he came staggering up toward me. He had four weeks.

I knew from the look on his face, it was obvious what he wanted from me. A date, the truth. And I knew I couldn’t give it to him, so before he could say anything I turned quickly away and walked back into the vestry. As I reached the door I heard a voice.

“Let us help you, sir. Come and sit over here. Would you like a drink of water?” Simon and one of the ushers had swooped in, gently coaxing the old man to sit in a pew.

Relieved, I slammed the door behind me.