Page 73
Story: The Memory Wood
‘Because…Because it’s what’s right.’
Does he believe that, or is he simply repeating what he’s been told?
‘My wrist,’ she says. ‘I think it’s infected. I think it’s really bad.’
Silence, for a while. Then Elijah scrabbles to his feet. ‘Oh, this is all myfault,’ he moans. ‘I could havedonesomething, and … and I—’
‘How can this be your fault?’
‘I’m so sorry, Gretel. If only I hadn’t been so stupid!’
She frowns. ‘I don’t get it. You’re saying this is because of you?’
‘I left the estate. Went through the Memory Wood, all the way to the road. Don’t know how long I walked – I think I must’ve got lost. And then … next thing I was in a police station, answering questions. I told them how to contact Papa and he came to fetch me.’
Blood drains from Elissa’s stomach. ‘You were in apolicestation?’
‘Yes.’
‘You spoke to them?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Well … I told them about the crow Papa fixed.’
Her mouth falls open. ‘Did you tell them aboutme, Elijah? Did you remember my name, like I told you?ElissaMirzoyan. Did you explain where I was? What was happening down here? Did you tell them how to find me?’
‘No, I—’
‘No?’
‘You don’t understand!’ he shouts. ‘I told you already – I wasn’t thinking straight. I’d neverbeenin a police station before. It wasscary. I wanted to tell them, of course I did, but by that point I was such a mess I thought they wouldn’t believe me. I promised myself I’d say something once I calmed down, but by then I was already home.’
His admission is so crushing, so utterly devastating, that it saps Elissa’s remaining strength. She slumps on to the floor, ignoring the nubs of rock that dig into her flesh. ‘Where were you going?’ she whispers. ‘Why did you leave the estate?’
‘I … I don’t know. I think I just needed some time. Time to work things out. My head, it’s …’ His feet scrabble across the floor. ‘I can fix this,’ he tells her. ‘I know I can. I’ll figure something out and I’ll come back.’
Moments later, the cell door squeals in its rubber frame.
Once he’s gone, Elissa finds the matches and lights a candle. Elijah, she knows, isn’t going to figure anything out. She’d hoped he was her ally, her chance of survival. But he isn’t. When she looks down at her wrist and sees the oozy, swollen mess it has become, she knows her time has run out.
Elijah
Day 7
I
Friday morning, and I’m stumbling through the Memory Wood, convinced I’m being followed. Last night, when Elissa was returned to the cell, the open door and my dropped torch would have been discovered. Which means they know someone’s been down there. And while they might not yet knowwho, they’ll know I left the estate yesterday, that I was at the police station. For a while, fearing what I might say or do, they must have relocated her. Last night, at my bedroom window, the vehicle I saw driving past Fallow Field was probably bringing Elissa back. It’s a miracle she’s not dead.
Up ahead, the trees are thinning out. Through them, I see Wheel Town, and the greyish expanse of Knucklebone Lake. Threads of mist hug the ground. Smoke wafts from the communal fire pit and Magic Annie’s tin chimney.
From the east, carving up the silence, comes the sound of a 4x4 being driven too fast. I reach the treeline just in time to see Leon Meunier’s mud-spattered Defender bouncing across the grass.
II
Tyres locking, it slides to a halt in front of Noakes’s lorry. The driver’s door flies open and Meunier leaps out. I’ve never seen his face such a livid red. He lifts back his head and bellows.
Does he believe that, or is he simply repeating what he’s been told?
‘My wrist,’ she says. ‘I think it’s infected. I think it’s really bad.’
Silence, for a while. Then Elijah scrabbles to his feet. ‘Oh, this is all myfault,’ he moans. ‘I could havedonesomething, and … and I—’
‘How can this be your fault?’
‘I’m so sorry, Gretel. If only I hadn’t been so stupid!’
She frowns. ‘I don’t get it. You’re saying this is because of you?’
‘I left the estate. Went through the Memory Wood, all the way to the road. Don’t know how long I walked – I think I must’ve got lost. And then … next thing I was in a police station, answering questions. I told them how to contact Papa and he came to fetch me.’
Blood drains from Elissa’s stomach. ‘You were in apolicestation?’
‘Yes.’
‘You spoke to them?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘What did you say?’
‘Well … I told them about the crow Papa fixed.’
Her mouth falls open. ‘Did you tell them aboutme, Elijah? Did you remember my name, like I told you?ElissaMirzoyan. Did you explain where I was? What was happening down here? Did you tell them how to find me?’
‘No, I—’
‘No?’
‘You don’t understand!’ he shouts. ‘I told you already – I wasn’t thinking straight. I’d neverbeenin a police station before. It wasscary. I wanted to tell them, of course I did, but by that point I was such a mess I thought they wouldn’t believe me. I promised myself I’d say something once I calmed down, but by then I was already home.’
His admission is so crushing, so utterly devastating, that it saps Elissa’s remaining strength. She slumps on to the floor, ignoring the nubs of rock that dig into her flesh. ‘Where were you going?’ she whispers. ‘Why did you leave the estate?’
‘I … I don’t know. I think I just needed some time. Time to work things out. My head, it’s …’ His feet scrabble across the floor. ‘I can fix this,’ he tells her. ‘I know I can. I’ll figure something out and I’ll come back.’
Moments later, the cell door squeals in its rubber frame.
Once he’s gone, Elissa finds the matches and lights a candle. Elijah, she knows, isn’t going to figure anything out. She’d hoped he was her ally, her chance of survival. But he isn’t. When she looks down at her wrist and sees the oozy, swollen mess it has become, she knows her time has run out.
Elijah
Day 7
I
Friday morning, and I’m stumbling through the Memory Wood, convinced I’m being followed. Last night, when Elissa was returned to the cell, the open door and my dropped torch would have been discovered. Which means they know someone’s been down there. And while they might not yet knowwho, they’ll know I left the estate yesterday, that I was at the police station. For a while, fearing what I might say or do, they must have relocated her. Last night, at my bedroom window, the vehicle I saw driving past Fallow Field was probably bringing Elissa back. It’s a miracle she’s not dead.
Up ahead, the trees are thinning out. Through them, I see Wheel Town, and the greyish expanse of Knucklebone Lake. Threads of mist hug the ground. Smoke wafts from the communal fire pit and Magic Annie’s tin chimney.
From the east, carving up the silence, comes the sound of a 4x4 being driven too fast. I reach the treeline just in time to see Leon Meunier’s mud-spattered Defender bouncing across the grass.
II
Tyres locking, it slides to a halt in front of Noakes’s lorry. The driver’s door flies open and Meunier leaps out. I’ve never seen his face such a livid red. He lifts back his head and bellows.
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