Peacetime (38 page)

But Lynch seemed more uncertain than ever of his own way forward.

‘Where is she?' one of the women called to him, meaning his wife.

Lynch started to turn to her, but then swung back to
face Mercer. ‘Who cares where she is?' he mouthed silently so that again only Mercer could hear him.

It chilled Mercer to hear the words, and to see what pleasure Lynch took in them.

Elizabeth Lynch's home remained in darkness, but she would hear everything that was happening, and would understand better than any of them the consequences of the night's events. Mercer wished he could go to her, or that she might emerge from her home to confront Lynch directly, but he knew that neither of these courses was likely, and that the darkness within which she now sat was wholly of her own making.

Though already a year dead, the war, or so it seemed to Mercer, still clung to everything it had once touched, having lasted too long and been elsewhere too destructive and all-consuming to leave no frayed edges, no ineradicable stains and no blighted men and women fighting in its wake. They had all, he now understood, confused the dying tremors of that violent past with its lasting reverberations into all their futures. More importantly, and regardless of their tales of sinking ships, of drowned men and crashing aircraft, it was not the lingering presence of that distant war in this isolated place, but its
absence
with which they were all now struggling to come to terms.

The night air was filled with the scent of the smoke, which thickened in the mist, and which filled every dip and hollow in the ground around its dead heart, undisturbed in the stillness. The moon lay unbroken on the surface of the sea. The mist itself had seeped inland, filling the deeper channels and drains as though it were water flowing along them.

Lynch said nothing for several minutes. He picked up the bottle at his feet, drank from it and then offered
it to the man standing closest to him, but the man simply shook his head and went on watching him.

Sensing that Lynch no longer possessed the conviction to continue, and relieved that this final confrontation had ended without any further violence, Mercer looked at those around him and called out, ‘This isn't the time to talk about the houses.' He took several paces to one side so that Lynch no longer stood directly between him and the others. ‘I'll come in the morning and tell you everything I know.'

And it was as he waited for them to acknowledge this offer – to accept it because there was now no other course left open to them – that Mary screamed in the tower behind him and then appeared at the lighted upper window to stand and look down at them all with her hands and face pressed hard against the glass.

Lynch was the first to start running, and he collided with Mercer and knocked him to the ground. Mercer fell badly, feeling his arm wrenched beneath him. Others among the onlookers followed Lynch to the tower. No one stopped to help Mercer to his feet. The young woman who had earlier shouted to Lynch paused beside Mercer and looked down at him, and he waited for what she might say to him, which of Lynch's allegations she might repeat, but after a moment of her silent judgement, she turned and walked back to the houses and the dying fire.

Mercer rose and followed the others to the tower. Lynch had already reached the building and gone inside. The others stood around the open door, reluctant to enter, and Mercer pushed through these and scrambled up the stairs to where Lynch, Mary and Jacob now awaited him.

Mary stood at the window where she had revealed herself, and Jacob still lay at the far side of the room, on the floor, his chin pressed to his chest and his arms
stretched out ahead of him as though he had dragged himself from his bed in the act of striving for something beyond his reach.

Running back to the tower, it had occurred to Mercer that Jacob might have finally been overcome by his illness and had died in Mary's arms, and that this was what had caused her to scream and to show herself at the window. He looked closely at Jacob and saw that he was still breathing. The fingers of his outstretched hand opened and closed slightly. The cloth with which Mary had wiped his face lay beside him.

Lynch stood with his daughter at the window, and it was clear by the expression on her face that something had happened there, and both men understood this.

Lynch grabbed the girl and shook her, asking her over and over to tell him what had made her scream.

It then occurred to Mercer that perhaps Lynch had not yet seen the man on the floor. He rubbed his wrist where he had fallen. It was discoloured and had started to swell. He attempted to flex his fingers but stopped abruptly at the sudden pain. He cried out at this, and Lynch turned to face him, looking quickly from where he stood at the trapdoor to the man on the floor beside him.

‘She was up here alone with
him
?' he shouted disbelievingly. ‘You left her up here, alone, with
that
?' He released his grip on his daughter and came towards Mercer, who moved to stand between him and Jacob.

‘He's sick,' Mercer said. ‘Look at him: he hasn't been able to move for two days. Ask her.'

‘She screamed,' Lynch said simply. ‘Something must have made her scream.' He moved from side to side to get a better look at Jacob. He screwed up his face. ‘He stinks,' he said. ‘They all do.' His fists were already
tightly bunched at his sides, and he drew back one of his feet ready to kick out.

Mercer appealed silently to Mary to intervene and explain to them what had happened, what had alarmed her, but she avoided his eyes and looked only at the man on the ground. He heard the others in the room below, some of whom now stood at the foot of the stairs and called up to find out what was happening. He hoped one of the men might join them and help him to restrain Lynch, but no one came. His wrist grew even more painful.

On the floor, Jacob groaned and resumed his groping. Mercer knelt beside him and tried to lift his head back onto his pillow, but with only one hand this proved impossible, and painful for them both.

‘Help me,' he said to Mary, but she gave no indication of having heard him. He asked her again, and this time she shook her head. ‘Then help
him
,' he said. But again she made no move towards him and merely went on staring at where Jacob lay.

By then, Lynch's anger had grown beyond him, and as Mercer tried to rise he pushed him back down.

‘You were the one who left her with him,' he said. ‘Whatever happened,
you're
the one responsible.' He called through the hatchway that the Jew was there, that he was pretending to be ill, and that he was the cause of all the trouble. He said that Mercer had deliberately left his daughter alone with the man while he had gone out to them to spread the rest of his lies. There was a moment of silence in the room below, followed by the rising murmur of speculation.

‘Just tell me what happened,' Mercer said to Mary, knowing that her explanation – her voice even – was now the key to defusing the situation.

Eventually, she looked up from Jacob and seemed as though she was at last about to speak.

‘Tell me,' Mercer urged her.

She clasped her hands together. ‘I was wiping his face,' she said.

‘Wiping his face?' Lynch shouted. ‘I've told you not to go anywhere near him.'

Mary continued looking at Mercer as though her father had not spoken, as though he were not even present in the room beside them. ‘He opened his eyes,' she said. ‘He wanted me to get closer to him. He was trying to tell me something so I put my ear close to his mouth to try and hear what he was saying. It was just his breathing, he couldn't clear his throat. He wanted me to get closer to him. The only way I could do that was by lying down on the floor beside him.'

‘Lying down?' Lynch said.

And again she went on talking as though the man had not interrupted her.

‘One noise over and over,' she said. ‘And then, when I was as close as I could get to him, still trying to understand what he was trying to tell me, he suddenly reached out and grabbed hold of me. He didn't seem capable of it at first, but I was lying propped on my side and there was nothing I could do to avoid him; I fell away from him and the next thing I knew his arm was round my neck.'

‘The bastard,' Lynch shouted.

‘Let her finish,' Mercer said. ‘You can see she hasn't been harmed.'

‘He tried to grab hold of her. You heard her.'

‘It probably wasn't deliberate,' Mary said. ‘His arm was where I fell, and when I landed on it, he folded it round me. He wasn't really hurting me, more holding me. It was as though he just wanted me to lie there, to
let him hold me. That was when I screamed. It wasn't hard to push him off once I'd got my balance, and after that I went to the window. He scrambled on the floor for a few seconds and then he started coughing again and seemed to lose all his strength. I heard then what he'd been trying to say to me.'

‘He thought you were his sister,' Mercer said.

‘Anna,' she said.

It was beyond Mercer to imagine what Jacob must have seen or heard in his barely conscious delirium, or where he now imagined himself to be.

‘He woke and thought you were his sister tending to him,' he said.

‘He started crying,' she said. ‘When he tried to grab hold of me and I pushed him away.' She took several paces back towards where Jacob lay, until Lynch put out his arm to stop her.

‘If I'd known …' she said to Mercer.

‘I know,' he told her. Mercer finally rose to his feet.

‘Known what?' Lynch said. ‘If she'd known what?'

She tried to reach down to the man on the floor, but again Lynch stopped her, pulling her sharply back to him.

‘Let go of her,' Mercer said.

Lynch swung her round so that she stood between them. ‘Or else what?'

And at that moment, perhaps because he had been alerted by the voices around him, or perhaps only because he had heard the girl and his sister's name repeated so many times, Jacob, too, said, ‘Anna,' and reached out his hand until it connected with Lynch's ankle, which he then feebly attempted to grab.

Lynch cried out at this and released his hold on his daughter. He lifted the foot Jacob had touched and then stamped it down hard on Jacob's fingers.

‘Anna,' Jacob said, and again they all heard him clearly. He went on saying the name, forming it over and over until his voice faded to a dry whisper, oblivious to Lynch's foot.

Hearing him speak, Lynch finally stepped away from him, and then, before either Mercer or Mary could intervene, he swung a kick at Jacob which caught his arm and threw it awkwardly back across his face.

Unable to restrain him in any other way, Mercer threw himself against Lynch and knocked him to the floor.

Someone below shouted up again to ask what was happening, and this time Mercer heard Mathias's voice amid the cacophony. He called down for him to come up to them, trying to keep himself between Lynch and Jacob. And while he did this, Mary went back to the mattress and lifted Jacob's head back onto the pillow. She gently picked up the arm Lynch had kicked and laid it by his side. Jacob no longer attempted to speak to her, and his mouth fell slackly open to reveal his teeth.

Mathias climbed through the hatchway and shouted to ask what was happening.

‘Help him,' Mercer said, indicating Jacob.

Mathias stood for a few seconds trying to understand what he was seeing, alarmed by the presence of Lynch and his daughter.

And in those few seconds, Lynch finally pushed himself free of Mercer, turned to where Mary knelt beside Jacob, and swung another kick at the man, this time catching him in his side and causing Jacob to groan and then to choke at the pain of the blow.

Mary shouted for her father to stop, and in an effort to protect Jacob, she held herself over his chest and
put her arms around his head. Oblivious now to all that was taking place around him, Jacob continued to choke, and every fibre and bone of his head, neck and chest were brought into sharp relief by the effort.

Lynch shouted again for Mary to move away from him, and drew back his foot for a third kick.

But by then Mathias had grasped what was happening and he struck a blow to the side of Lynch's head which caught him by surprise and knocked him to the floor.

Lynch rose quickly and turned to face Mathias, but as he did this, Mathias struck him again, and this time Lynch stumbled backwards, missing his footing and putting one of his feet through the open hatchway. He fell badly, striking his head against the side of the opening, wedged where he had fallen, and from where he now tried to pull himself back to his feet.

Both Mercer and Mathias watched him struggle there for a moment.

‘Help him up,' Mercer said eventually.

But instead, Mathias went to where Lynch held out his hand to be pulled up and kicked at his arm and shoulder until he fell through the hatchway and down the steps into the room below. The voices beneath stopped immediately.

Mercer went to the opening and looked down. Lynch lay without moving at the bottom of the steps, his legs above his body, one of his feet caught between the rungs.

‘He's landed badly,' he said.

‘Good,' Mathias said, and he looked from Mercer to where Mary still knelt with her arms around Jacob's head.

Jacob finally stopped choking and lay calmly in her embrace.

Beneath them, the voices resumed and a woman screamed.

‘You ought to go,' Mercer said to Mathias.

But Mathias shook his head. ‘No, I ought to stay. I shouldn't have gone in the first place. If I'd stayed with him, none of this would have happened.'

He went to the mattress and knelt at Jacob's feet. At his arrival there, Mary started to rise, but he indicated for her to stay, and she put her hands back to Jacob's face, stretching herself alongside him on the thin mattress. She whispered to him and he grew calmer. He closed his mouth and turned to face her.