Relatively Strange (42 page)

“Go to?” Miss Peacock, looking as fresh as a grey and white daisy, had appeared too.

“The police?”

“Ah yes, the police …” she murmured, “And you’d share with them that you broke into a respected medical centre, rendered unconscious several members of staff, destroyed valuable records and kidnapped a small boy?” She paused thoughtfully, “Oh and silly me, I nearly forgot – while you were at it, five patients and a nurse were murdered.” I put my toast down, it had suddenly lost appeal.

“But you know what happened, and why.”

“And how would you put that in a statement, without explanation about things you may not want broadcast?” Miss Peacock raised an eyebrow.

“But we’ve got to do something.”

“We’ve done something.”

“But he’s just one, there’ll be others?”

“I know that. We do what we can.” I glared at her,

“But …”

“We can’t take the law into our own hands.”

“We just did.”

“We took a risk. We’ve done it before, we’ll do it again. But we are what we are and must act with a certain degree of caution.” She moved to the kettle, shook to check the level of water and re-filled, as always her movements economic and sure. “We can’t right all wrongs, you know. We’d be a little inundated.” I ignored the sarcasm and looked at Ruth, who nodded agreement,

“She’s right. Only so far we can go. We’ve done some pretty unorthodox things in our time, come up against some exceptionally nasty characters. We usually though manage to handle things more smoothly, less violently, we’d no idea last night would turn quite so dramatic.”

“But Dreck and Merry.” I protested. “They won’t take this lying down.”

“They haven’t a lot of choice. Their research hardly bears close scrutiny.” Miss Peacock reached for a plate and began to dismember a grapefruit.

“But it’s Government funded,” I protested,

“Government funded doesn’t mean public approved.”

“But what’s going on there’s illegal, surely? And what about the disposal people Merry talked about? Surely that’s incriminating enough?”

“Your word against theirs.”

“But
you
know … ” She raised that eyebrow again,

“We’re hardly going to come forward as witnesses.”

“But they know who I am, she recognised me. That means they know my address, everything.”

“Dealt with.”

“Dealt with?”

“The Doctor and Miss Merry are,” she looked at her watch, “Round about now each receiving a hand-delivered letter from a well-known firm of solicitors.”

“Saying?”

“That although most records were destroyed last night, enough have been retained to show exactly how far out of hand their experimental work has gone. A substantial number of photographs, together with tape-recorded material is currently held by the solicitor. Should Dreck or Merry or anyone acting on their behalf, attempt to approach you or any member of your family, now or at any time in the future, this material will immediately be distributed to all leading national newspapers, the police and, of course, relevant government departments. Prosecution would be inevitable and on a variety of charges.”

“But you don’t
have
any evidence.”

“They don’t know that.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“And your point is?” she waited politely. I turned abruptly away. I don’t know what I’d thought would happen to Merry and Dreck but I wanted to see them damaged, the way they’d damaged others.

“I’m sorry dear, there’s only so much we can do.” Ruth, as aware as I that tears of angry frustration were just around the corner, kept her tone even. I swallowed hard I felt ridiculously young, naïve and hard done by.

“Well, what about Sam?”

“Arrangements already in place.” she reassured me.

“To live here with you?”

“He needs far more than we can give him. He needs to learn to mix, to cope with what he is.”

“But you
can’t
just abandon him, he’s had too much of that.”

“I assure you, we are not abandoning him.” Ruth was mild but I’d hit the steel behind the softness. I made hasty amends,

“I didn’t mean that, it’s just I’m worried?”

“Not your responsibility.” Miss Peacock was dismissive. She’d carried her coffee and grapefruit to the sofa opposite Ed. “You’ll be going back home now anyway. We’re grateful for all you’ve done, we couldn’t have managed last night without you.” She made it sound like I’d run down to the shops for half a pound of butter! I swallowed hard again I really didn’t want them to know what I was feeling, wasn’t even sure myself. Miss Peacock as ever had a view.

“You’re mixed up at the moment, angry and hurt because you think we’re shutting you out. Perhaps we are. Get used to it. It’s for your own good.”

“I don’t understand, I can’t just
go back
, after everything that’s happened.”

“Well you can’t stay here, and in a few months you’ll hardly remember it all.”

“Oh, so now we tell the future too?” I was hurting, I wanted to hurt back. I should have known better, she ignored the remark, took a sip of her coffee replaced the cup neatly in the saucer.

“You have family, a strong supportive background, you can’t and wouldn’t want to abandon that.”

“No, but …”

“There are no buts, we’re different, all of us here,” she inclined her head to include the others in the room, “No families, no ties, different circumstances altogether. You’re certainly one of us, but that’s only part of what you are and you can’t live comfortably with a foot in both worlds. When you’re older you can make your own choices. My guess? You’ll opt for as normal as possible.” She took another genteel sip.

Ruth made to move towards me, I turned my back. I was aware of behaving like a sulky child and knew what had been said made sense, Miss Peacock had read me like a book. If they’d said stay, I’d have been horrified, there was never any question in my mind about that. But in the time I’d been with them I wondered if I hadn’t been more truly myself than ever before.

“Oh please!” Glory, silent till now, “You’re your own person. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with, whatever you’re doing and that’s all there is to it.” No-one quite like Glory to puncture your balloon. I gathered around me what shreds of dignity I had left.

“I’ll phone home then, shall I?”

“We’re staying down here for a bit, but we’ll put you on the 5.00 o’clock into London.” Miss Peacock had it all sorted, she must have hit the phone early. “There’s a taxi coming at 4.30, get you to the station in plenty of time.” It was as if having utilised my services, they couldn’t wait to get rid of me and if I heard Ruth’s quick protest, I ignored it. When you’re feeling hard done by, you really don’t want anybody interfering. I called home under the unsmiling eye of Queen Victoria but the phone at the other end rang on, unanswered. I’d try again later. If I couldn’t get hold of them I’d simply take the tube back from the station. I knew, whenever and however I arrived, they’d be delighted.

*

The rest of the day was really rather quiet – nobody tried to kill anybody else in the basement, no one pushed anyone else out the window. There were things I wanted to ask, to find out before I left but somehow, nothing had the same quality of urgency as before. I can’t even, after that one intense conversation in the morning, recall anything memorable anybody said all day.

Sam seemed to have settled in without a ripple. I hoped, when they took him to wherever they had planned, it wouldn’t be too hard for him and wondered vaguely whether the learning to cope would be amongst normal people or with other Stranges? When the taxi driver rang the bell at precisely 4.30, I’d been ready with my bag packed for an hour and it was almost a relief.

I knew it wouldn’t be a demonstrative farewell, you only need demonstrate feelings to people who wouldn’t otherwise know. Sam was sitting next to Glory on the sofa. He’d found a medical textbook on one of the over-packed shelves. He couldn’t read it but he was nodding sagely over some of the detailed anatomical drawings, delighted to find people drawn the way he’d always seen them. He still wasn’t really talking, but Glory was quietly answering those unspoken questions she could and together they were looking up and finding answers to those she couldn’t. I bent and gave her a quick, awkward, from-the-side hug, inhaling the familiar sherbet-lemonness of her. She wasn’t a natural hugger, appreciated the gesture, just didn’t know how to soften into it, but she allowed me a very swift glimpse of what she thought of me. I was surprised and pleased,

“Don’t let it go to your head,” she warned crisply.

I knelt on the floor in front of Sam.

“I’m going now, Sam my man. You’ll be all right?” it was meant to be a statement, it came out a question. He didn’t want to drag his eyes away from the book which was filling his whole mind with excitement and possibilities. Perhaps, wherever it was he was going, I didn’t need to worry – with the discovery of that book, he’d already come home. I rose to my feet and he looked up. Someone, Ruth I supposed, had given him a good scrub, which was a huge improvement, but it was still an expressionless little face. And then he slowly closed one eye in complicity and thanks and that was more than enough.

I could feel Ed, cringing with embarrassment before I even got near him so I altered my course to pat Hamlet enthusiastically on the head, good old Hamlet I couldn’t have done without him. I contented myself with a brisk little thumbs-up to Ed. I could feel his profound relief, a thumbs-up was about as up close and personal as Ed wanted.

The Peacock sisters escorted me out to the taxi.

“Will we stay in touch?” It was important for me to know and I meant the question to sound brisk and businesslike, certainly not as whiney as it came out. Ruth didn’t seem to mind, she put a hand on each of my shoulders – she wasn’t much taller than me – then wrapped her arms tight round me for a moment, pulling me into the rich, purple-deep lavender Ruthness of her. I put my arms round her too and squeezed back hard. When we drew apart, she nodded,

“You did well my dear. Thank you for your help.” My eyes filled in response to her’s, she was already fumbling for and not finding a tissue.

“Oh for goodness sake Ruth.” Miss Peacock produced a paper hanky from one grey sleeve and thrust it at her sister. She bent and picked up my case and placed it in the open boot of the car, decisively slamming it shut. I saw the driver waiting patiently in the front seat, flinch at how decisively.

“In you get,” she opened the passenger door for me. I climbed in and wound down the window.

“I almost forgot,” Ruth was thrusting a brown carrier bag at me, “From Ed – to keep you going on the train. Now, have you got cash on you? If you need to get a taxi the other end?” Neither of them had answered my question, the driver switched on the engine.

“I don’t want to lose touch with you all. It’s important.” Miss P was as briskly oblique as usual.

“You’ll always have to make choices.” We looked at each other, peppermint crisp and – I paused, what was I, I’d never thought,

“Milky,” she supplied, “Here.” She handed me another, smaller package and very briefly she smiled at me as she straightened, that astonishing smile of warmth and charm, lighting her face momentarily with depths of humour and affection. She tapped sharply, twice on the roof of the cab with the flat of her hand and stepped back next to her sister. I waved until we turned out of the drive. Ruth waved back, Miss Peacock nodded once.