Outside

Chapter Twenty Two

Luc and I are standing outside the walls of Salisbury Cathedral. We’re on foot and we’ve dressed to make ourselves look as young and vulnerable as possible in scruffy, stained t shirts and shorts. I’m wearing no makeup with my hair pulled back in a ponytail. This morning, Luc shaved his fine stubble with Fred’s cut throat razor until his skin was peachy soft. We’re unarmed and carry no bags or possessions.

We knocked and shouted several times with no response from the main gates and so we followed the high wall along for about three hundred yards. Now we’ve arrived at a small wooden door with thick metal studs. I’m hesitating, but Luc bangs on it twice with his fist. Almost instantly, a woman opens it.

She’s small and pretty with shoulder-length dark blonde hair. She doesn’t look anything like the dark-robed religious zealots I had imagined. In fact, the only religious-looking thing about her is the small gold cross hanging neatly around her neck, nestling below her collar bone just above her pastel blue shirt. I’m guessing she’s in her thirties and she has an open friendly face.

Luc and I had psyched ourselves up so much for this moment that I’m quite taken aback to be greeted with such courtesy and lack of security.

‘Come in,’ she says. ‘The road’s not a good place to be these days. Would you like a drink?’

We step through the small wooden door in the wall and glance around. There’s no security that I can see and we’re in a small beautiful courtyard, fragrant with flowers and herbs. She motions us towards a wrought iron patio set and we sit down.

‘Be back in a minute,’ she smiles. ‘Lemonade okay?’

We nod and watch as she goes through a little half-glazed door in the side of a red brick house that looks several hundred years old.

‘This is odd,’ I whisper to Luc.

‘Not really,’ he replies. ‘Think about it. If you want to recruit children or young adults, heavy security isn’t going to make them want to stay. Grey’s a smart man. He’ll try the carrot approach first. This first impression will look like paradise to most kids used to living rough on the outside. You can guarantee if we were anything other than two defenceless kids at the gate, we’d have got a very different welcome.’

The door creaks open and the woman comes back out carrying a tray with a jug of lemonade, three glasses and a plate of biscuits. A large ginger tom cat runs out of the door with her and scampers across to where we’re sitting. He purrs loudly and winds himself around our legs, his nose in the air, asking to be petted.

‘Don’t mind Tigger,’ says the woman. ‘Shoo him away if he bothers you. He just loves company.’ She sits down and pours out the cloudy lemonade.

‘No,’ I reply. ‘He’s lovely, really friendly.’ I reach down to stroke the cat.

‘Help yourselves to biscuits.’ She gestures to the plate and Luc and I take one each. They’re obviously really delicious, but nerves stifle the taste and my dry mouth makes it feel like crumbly cement on my tongue. I reach for my glass and swallow a mouthful of the sharp acidic drink.

‘It’s all homemade,’ says the woman. ‘I’m Rebecca.’

‘Luc.’

‘Riley.’ I cough. We decided earlier that we didn’t need to change our first names, as nobody would know who we are anyway.

‘We’re sorry to bother you,’ says Luc. ‘But we’ve got nowhere to go and we saw your gate and we’re so hungry and thirsty. It’s really kind of you.’

‘It’s no bother,’ Rebecca smiles. ‘Relax. Enjoy your drinks. You don’t have to rush off on account of me. I have work to do anyway. I’ll be in here if you need me.’ She points back to the door she’s just come through. ‘Please stay as long as you like.’ She swigs down the last of her lemonade and goes back into the house.

We wait a few minutes. All I can hear is Tigger’s insistent purring, the breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees and a distant hammering sound of metal on metal. It’s a warm afternoon, still early and the sun’s high in the sky. Things aren’t quite back to normal between me and Luc. I don’t know if he’s still mad at me, but now’s not the time to have that discussion.

He stands up and walks around the small courtyard. It’s got a high wall and looks like it’s part of a private residence. If you didn’t know any better, you would never guess it belongs to the Cathedral Close. There’s a jumble of pots and troughs containing flowers and herbs. Ivy clings to the walls of the house and creeps around the dark blank windows. A couple of wasps buzz sleepily around us and a line of ants stream across the cracked terracotta flagstones.

Now that we’re inside the walls, there’s no going back. Luc stares up at the house, as if attempting to unravel its secrets and I try hard not to think about what we’re doing. Luc told me my only task is to locate Lissy and try to keep her close to me. He’s going to do the rest.