‘Morning, Grandpa,’ I said, trying to sound like a bright, cheery, morning person, not someone who had just been crying inconsolably and had a sprained ankle and didn’t even like mornings on normal days.
He looked up from the paper and smiled at me. Merlin didn’t stir. He was deaf now, I realized, grey-muzzled. That was why he hadn’t barked when I’d arrived the night before.
‘Oh, hello there!’ Grandpa said, and if I hadn’t known him all my life, and known how his face always lit up with joy and love and mischief when he saw me, I’d have been fooled. But I knew. It wasn’t like last night – he wasn’t afraid, he didn’t think I was stranger. He just couldn’t quite place me. I tried not to let myself feel the hurt of it.
‘I’m Clem,’ I said breezily as if it was completely normal to have to introduce myself. ‘Your long-lost granddaughter. Sorry to scare you last night, turning up out of the blue. You were half-asleep I think.’
He stared at me. Then ‘Clem!’ he said, his voice different. And there it was, the look that was just for me. ‘I hardly knew you for a moment there. What a lovely surprise.’
He stood up painfully and shuffled over to me. He was shorter than me now, I realized, stooped over.
‘It’s so good to see you, Grandpa,’ I said hugging him, my voice a bit hoarse.
‘You too, cariad, you too. Let me look at you now.’ He held me off from him. ‘How did you get so tall? My little Clem. It must be a while now since I saw you, I think?’
I didn’t want him to start thinking about when we’d last seen each other in case he remembered it was at Granny’s funeral.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Too long. I’ve missed you.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’re here,’ he said. ‘Now, where’s Granny got to? Have you seen her?’
I stared at him.
‘Nancy!’ he called. ‘Nance! Come and see who’s here!’
I felt myself grow hot with panic.
‘Grandpa…’
What should I say? What could I say? He watched me, expectant. It felt wrong to lie to him but I certainly couldn’t tell him the truth.
‘Granny’s not here,’ I said at last.
He looked anxious for a moment, then smiled.
‘Out at the shops I expect,’ he said. ‘You’ll see her later. You’re staying a while?’
‘A while, yes. I don’t know how long.’
‘Well,’ he said, taking my hand, ‘you know you’re always welcome here. We’ll look after you. Stay as long as you like.’
‘Thank you, Grandpa,’ I said. ‘I thought I’d just pop down to the shops and get a few bits. We’re out of milk. And I’ll get us some breakfast things. I’d love a walk.’
This was a lie. My ankle was still sore and my whole body felt stiff and heavy. But I found I did want to see the village, after all this time. As a kid I’d always loved the contrast between village life and what I thought of as my own faster, louder, harder-edged life in London. I’d felt superior and worldly-wise, but I’d also envied the chocolate-box prettiness of this rural place and the way everyone seemed to know everyone else and looked out for each other. Now the thought of everything carrying on here as it always had was reassuring after the tension and fear back in London. And Grandpa was so frail and slow when he moved I wasn’t even sure he could make it as far as the village. How had he been managing all this time? Neighbours helping out probably. I’d go and see them later. Now it was morning, Dad’s warning about village gossips and keeping out of sight seemed silly. Paranoia didn’t belong in this sleepy place.
Billie was definitely not up for walking anywhere ever again after yesterday and anyway she said she had important tricks to teach Merlin, so I set off down the track on my own. Every time I thought of Dad I still wanted to cry. But I told myself he would want me to be doing this, to be trying to make things okay. He always said, if you’re scared, act like you’re not and eventually you might even kid yourself that you’re not. And if you don’t, at least you’ll kid other people. ‘Fake it till you make it, Clem.’ So I tried.
It was a perfect spring day, the sky clear blue, the sun pale. Last night’s rain had left a fresh smell of things growing in the earth. I breathed it in. Even my aching ankle felt a bit less stiff as I walked, careful not to put too much weight on it. I remembered as I went how ridiculously idyllic the village was, the track surrounded by woodland, the duck pond, the church with its pointy-arched gateway and sloping graveyard full of wonky gravestones, the village hall.
I’d expected to find kids playing at the swings on the green, people walking their dogs and stopping for a chat, but despite the sunshine there was hardly anyone about. Still, the peace was a relief after the tension of London, the checkpoints, the cadets, the patrols, the feeling that things could tip over into something angry or violent or dangerous at any moment. Now I was here it was hard to imagine any of that really existed.
I walked on, past the dog groomers, the café, the closed chippy and the pub, till I reached the village store where Grandpa used to buy me sweets out of big jars behind the counter. Inside, a lot of the shelves were empty, like at home. I found a loaf of wholemeal bread that was past its use-by date – better than nothing – and a pack of butter. There was no fresh milk but I picked up a carton of UHT and took it to the counter.
The woman behind the counter – Jade, according to her badge – looked up and smiled, then stopped smiling and looked at me harder, her coral-glossed lips pursed. I smiled awkwardly. She didn’t smile back.
‘Got your village card?’ she said as she scanned my shopping.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I’m just visiting.’ I assumed it was like a loyalty card and if you got ten stamps you got a free coffee at the café or something.
‘Thought I didn’t recognize you.’ I looked at her, surprised at the hostile edge to her voice. ‘Well, sorry. You’ll have to put all that back. Can’t sell to outsiders.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘no, I’m not an outsider. I’m visiting family here.’
‘Right,’ she said, pointedly looking me up and down. ‘Well, maybe you are and maybe you aren’t but I can’t sell to anyone without a card.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Do I look like I’m joking?’
I couldn’t imagine Jade ever looking like she was joking.
‘But why?’ I said. ‘What’s the big deal with the card?’
She shook her head, like she couldn’t believe how stupid I was. ‘Take a look at the shelves! There isn’t enough even for us in the village. There’s families without enough to feed themselves. No bread for days. No formula milk for weeks now. When it does come in there’ll be fights over it. We can’t have people from all around buying everything up. People coming in from the cities, the second-home-owner lot.’
‘But that’s not me. Like I said, I’m staying with family.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘Well, if you’re staying with family, they’ll have to come and do the shopping. But unless you’re a registered visitor they can’t get extra rations for you. Who is it you’re staying with anyway? I’m bound to know them.’ She said it like a challenge to catch me out.
I wanted to tell her it was none of her business but bit it back.
‘My grandpa. Huw Morris.’
The woman’s face changed instantly.
‘Aww, Huw,’ she said, smiling. ‘You should have said. Poor Huw. How is he?’
‘He’s fine,’ I said, like you do.
‘Hasn’t been the same since Nancy left us, bless him. Dear Huw. And you’re his granddaughter, are you? Seren’s daughter?’
I felt myself flinch at the unexpected sound of my mum’s name in this stranger’s mouth. It felt far too personal, an invasion into the part of my life I kept hidden. But of course, everyone knew everyone here.
‘Yes.’ I tried to sound casual. ‘That’s right.’
‘Hmmm.’ She looked at me differently now, interested, trying to compare me with her memory of Mum perhaps.
‘So,’ I said quickly, before she could ask me something about her that I’d have to admit I didn’t know the answer to, ‘as this is Huw’s shopping…’
‘Shaun usually does Huw’s shopping for him. But he goes to the supermarket.’ She sniffed disapprovingly, either at the supermarket or Shaun, whoever he was.
‘You know Shaun, I expect?’ There was something too bland in the way she said it.
‘No?’
‘Oh,’ she said it in a loaded way. ‘Well.’
‘Is he a friend of Grandpa’s?’
‘Depends who you ask.’
I waited for her to go on but she didn’t. She was enjoying this, wanting me to ask more. But I didn’t want to play whatever game she was playing. I just wanted to get out of there with the shopping and get back to Grandpa.
‘So… I need to put all this back?’
She looked disappointed. ‘Well, I shouldn’t really, but seeing as it’s for Huw…’ She looked around but there was no one else in the shop. ‘I’m not giving you extra, mind. Bring his card in next time and I’ll take it off your ration for the week. Don’t tell anyone, or there’ll be trouble.’
‘I won’t,’ I said, putting the things in my bag, wondering what kind of trouble and whether for me or her. ‘Thanks. That’s really kind of you.’
‘He’s a lovely man, Huw. I do feel for him since Nancy passed away.’ She handed me the receipt. ‘How long are you staying by the way?’ She said it casually, like she was just making polite conversation, but she didn’t look at me as she spoke.
‘Oh, just a few days,’ I said, not knowing why I was lying. ‘Just wanted to see my Grandpa and make sure he was okay.’
She looked relieved.
‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I mean, it’s a shame for Huw not to have you around longer. But it means you won’t have to get approval to stay. And it’s just you, is it?’
‘That’s right. Just me.’
She nodded, satisfied.
Well, give Huw my love, won’t you?’
‘I will.’
‘And if anyone’s funny with you in the village, just make sure they know you’re not staying long. Some people are a bit… Well, it’s understandable, isn’t it?’
‘Bye,’ I said, smiling, trying not to show how relieved I was to be getting away from her. ‘Thanks again.’
‘And keep an eye on Shaun,’ she called after me. ‘He’s always been trouble, that one.’
I wanted to get back as quickly as I could but my ankle had begun throbbing from the walk and I felt lightheaded and weak with hunger. The quiet seemed wrong now, sinister even. I wanted to cry. I wanted to call Dad and tell him about Grandpa not knowing who I was and talking to Granny like she was in the next room, and about the weirdness of the village. I wanted to ask him what I should do. But I knew that was impossible. I was on my own.
I sat on a bench on the green to catch my breath, then pulled a slice of the bread out of its plastic wrapping and stuffed it into my mouth. It was dry and stuck to the roof of my mouth. I chewed it slowly, looking around at the play park, the duck pond, the cottages that overlooked the green. When I’d been a kid it had all seemed perfect. But how would it feel to grow up here, with everyone knowing everything about you? Who your family were, where you lived, everything you ever did and who with, everything you bought at the village store, what medication and personal stuff you got from the pharmacy… I couldn’t imagine it. Maybe you’d feel cared for, certain that everyone was looking out for you. Or maybe you… maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe it depended on the kind of person you were.
Or on the kind of person everyone else decided you were.
What had it been like for Mum?
This was the question I was really asking. Mum with her silky dress, hiding behind her film-star sunglasses that meant you could never really see her expression, Mum who never stayed in one place, who never left a trace. What had it been like for her here in the village? I thought of Jade’s expression when she’d mentioned her, greedy for gossip. Maybe it was no wonder Mum had wanted to escape into the forest. And then to keep on escaping.
As I sat there a dog like a miniature wolf ran up to sniff me and then sat, waiting to be petted. She looked at me with her ice-blue eyes. I leaned down and stroked her head as the owners walked over, a woman, a teenage boy and a younger girl, all very blonde and beautiful-looking, in a glossy, healthy sort of way like they’d just stepped out of one of those catalogues that used to arrive in the post for Claudia, catalogues that she moved straight from doormat to recycling bin without opening. I imagined they were the sort of family that got up early to play tennis together at the weekends and I tried not to dislike them.
I felt very conscious of my own rumpled clothes, pulled out of the rucksack that morning, and the fact that I now hadn’t had a shower for two days, my hair stale and greasy, scraped back in an elastic band.
‘Your dog’s beautiful,’ I said, smiling at the woman in her expensive jacket, hoping to focus attention on the dog rather than me.
‘Skadi!’ she called sharply, as if I hadn’t spoken, and the dog trotted obediently back to her.
‘Well trained too,’ I said.
‘Put her on the lead,’ the woman said to the girl behind her, who I guessed was about twelve and was a smaller version of her mother.
The woman walked towards me. ‘You’re not from around here, are you?’
Ah, the traditional friendly village greeting. At least I was prepared for it this time.
‘Oh, no. I’m just here visiting family. Not for long,’ I added quickly.
‘Could you tell me exactly who you’re visiting and when you’re leaving?’ the woman said, in a voice that suggested she was used to being obeyed by people as well as dogs.
I looked at her, taking in her perfectly bobbed hair and her surprisingly unlined face for someone with a son older than me.
Botox, imaginary Mischa whispered. Either that or she’s done a deal with the devil. She looks the type.
The three of them stared back at me.
Is it me, Mischa whispered, or are they all a bit Village of the Damned?
‘Well?’ the woman said, not disguising her impatience.
‘Why do you want to know?’ I said, feeling myself flush as I spoke. ‘Are you going to check up on me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, as if it was a stupid question.
‘Don’t you believe me?’
‘If you’ve got nothing to hide, you won’t mind telling me.’
‘But it’s none of your business.’
Her perfect complexion turned a mottled pink. She was about to speak when her phone rang. She took it out of her bag and sighed.
‘I haven’t got time for this,’ she snapped. ‘Jonas, take her details. Saskia, you bring the dog.’ She turned away to take her call and marched off across the green.
I looked at the son and daughter, half-hoping for a conspiratorial smile or eye roll now their mum had gone, but was confronted by matching cold, blue-eyed stares. The son, Jonas, took out a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket and held them out to me while his sister stood behind him, looking me up and down with undisguised contempt.
‘Just write down the name and address of the person you’re staying with,’ he said.
I looked at him. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘no. I don’t know you and it’s kind of a weird thing to ask, don’t you think? I’ve told you I’m staying with family, even though it’s none of your business by the way, and if you don’t believe me that’s not my problem.’
I held the notebook out for him to take. His face was blank. The girl, Saskia, looked shocked. For another second I thought she was going to yell at me.
‘It could be your problem,’ Jonas said.
‘I’ll take my chances,’ I replied.
‘Show us your ID card then,’ Saskia snapped.
I looked at her. ‘You aren’t the police, are you?’
‘We’re junior Community Guards.’
Compared with the Community Guards at home, they didn’t exactly seem threatening.
‘That sounds fun,’ I said. ‘But I haven’t got my ID with me. Sorry.’
The sister looked angry and took a step towards me but before she could say anything her brother stepped in.
‘Have it your way,’ he said.
‘Jonas!’ his sister said.
‘We’ll find out who she is and where she’s staying soon enough anyway.’ He turned to me. ‘If you’re staying longer than a week, you’ll be in trouble. And so will whoever you’re staying with.’
‘Is that supposed to be a threat?’
‘I’m just warning you,’ he said.
‘Nothing happens in this village that we don’t know about,’ Saskia said, staring at me again as if she was memorizing my face, before they stalked off giving me a last scornful look as they went.
Once they’d gone, I stood up and walked in the opposite direction, back towards Grandpa’s.
Wow, imaginary Mischa said. They seemed nice.
I tried to smile, thinking about what my friend would have said to them, but it just made me miss her more. I found I was shaking.
Focus on the plan.
I hid inside the hood of my coat and limped on back to Grandpa’s.
It was only as I opened the door to Grandpa’s that I realized I should have bought cleaning stuff and cloths. I felt stupid, like a kid playing at being a grown-up.
‘I’m back,’ I called. There was no reply. I walked through to the kitchen to put the kettle on and stifled a scream, dropping the carton of milk on the floor where it burst open.
Standing at the sink was a huge man with his back to me and headphones on singing along to Britney Spears. He spun round, surprisingly quick for someone so big.
‘Who the bloody hell are you?’ he said.
He really was massive, the same size and shape as Kris, the bouncer Mischa’s mum dated for a while (Like a wall made out of human flesh, Mischa told me after she met him, unimpressed). The intruder was in his late twenties, I’d guess, with a buzz cut, fair eyelashes and pale blue eyes. His pinkish skin was covered in tattoos. His nose looked like it had been broken many times. I’d probably have been more scared if he hadn’t been wearing Granny’s pink washing-up gloves and the apron she’d won in a raffle years ago at the village fete that said I RUN ON LOVE, LAUGHTER AND PROSECCO!
‘Who the bloody hell am I? Who the bloody hell are you?’ He put his rubber-gloved hands on his hips. ‘I’m the carer of the gentleman who lives here, thanks very much.’ He had a strong accent, Liverpool maybe. Definitely not from the village anyway. ‘Now, your turn.’
‘You don’t exactly look like a carer.’
‘Is that right? And what exactly does a carer look like, in your opinion, eh?’
He watched me, unblinking, his muscly, tattooed arms folded. I realized this was a fair question. I also realized it was highly unlikely an intruder would have broken into Grandpa’s house to do the washing-up.
‘I didn’t even know he had a carer,’ I faltered.
‘Well, now you do. But you still haven’t told me who you are.’
‘I’m his granddaughter,’ I said. ‘Clem. I’ve come to stay for a bit.’
The suspicion disappeared from the man’s face.
‘Clem! You’ve grown so much I didn’t recognize you.’
I looked at him in surprise.
‘I saw you at Nancy’s funeral but never got a chance to speak to you. You look so much older.’
I remembered the painful blur of Granny’s funeral. Then I remembered Grandpa asking where she was this morning and the sick panicky feeling returned.
‘I’m Shaun by the way,’ he said.
‘Oh! Of course. Someone in the village mentioned you.’
‘I bet they did.’ He said it in a way that made me think he guessed it hadn’t exactly been complimentary. ‘But what are you doing here? I had no idea you were coming.’
I explained. His expression changed.
‘Oh, Clem, love,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’ And he came over and hugged me. Normally I’m pretty strict about who I’m prepared to be hugged by (Mischa says it’s my worst trait and blames it on the fact that there’s a lot of Gemini in my star chart) and the list of acceptable huggers definitely doesn’t include strangers, but I found I didn’t mind too much apart from the stray soap suds.
‘Well, you’re here safe now. We’ll look after you. I’m just sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I’ve been away for a couple of days, hence the chaos in here. Normally I’m in every day. I’ll make us a cuppa, but I’d better clean up that milk first. By the way,’ he said, in a way that was supposed to sound casual, ‘who did you speak to in the village?’
I told him about Jade and then about the Village of the Damned family. I tried to make it sound funny but he didn’t smile.
‘Did you tell the woman much?’
‘No. She wasn’t very happy about it. You know her?’
Shaun nodded. ‘Imogen Glass. Nasty piece of work. She’s on the council.’
‘They said it would cause trouble if I stayed longer than I’m supposed to. Not just for me, for Grandpa too.’
‘Look,’ Shaun said, ‘don’t you worry about it. You’re here now. You’re safe. You stay as long as you need to. It’s just… it might be better to keep your heads down. Stay out of the way. Just for now.’
I was so tired I told Shaun I was going to go and lie down. I went to check on Grandpa first, who was dozing on the sofa. I hadn’t felt brave enough to ask Shaun about Grandpa’s memory yet. That could wait.
I picked up Grandpa’s glasses from where they had fallen on the floor. ‘Please remember me when you wake up,’ I whispered and kissed him on the cheek.
Billie was fast asleep in the spare room with a little pile of paper cranes next to her. Luna had fallen on the floor, so I picked her up and tucked her under Billie’s arm. Then I curled up next to her.
‘It’s okay,’ I said softly. ‘We’re here now. We’re safe. We can stay as long as we like.’
I closed my eyes and listened to the silence of the stopped clock as I drifted into sleep.