To Retribution: When there's no going back Page 2

  'Hello, Jake. So lovely to meet you, at last!'

  'Katherine.' Jake smiled and held out his hand, which she used to pull him close and give him a hug, kissing both of his cheeks. She smelt of a combination of roses and earth.

  'Come in, come in. Let's get you cleaned up and fed then you can tell us all about it. We've been so worried, you've no idea. We thought something was wrong as soon as your site went down and then nothing! Oh my dears, I am so relieved. Wonderful! Your father's out 'creating',' she said, making quotation marks with her fingers and smiling a knowing smile. 'He'll be so pleased you're here.' She swept an imaginary piece of hair from her face.

  'Great to see you Mum!' Suze enthused, opening her arms for another hug. 'Great to see you.' She did her best to hold back tears but failed miserably.

  'Right my girl. Upstairs. Bath and change then I'll have a proper look at you.'

  It felt good. It felt safe. It felt like home. She peeled her jeans off slowly and carefully, disconnecting the denim from the scab. The relief was palpable as she sank into the roll top bath and immersed herself in the warm soothing water, once the initial sting had subsided, body and soul benefiting from the familiar concoction of herbs and oils as they worked their magic. Thanks mum. She could hear the gentle murmur of voices from the kitchen below; the occasional clatter of copper pots sliding across the range. Bliss.

  3

  Katherine knocked gently on the bathroom door. 'Are you all right in there, Suzanna? It's almost dinner time,' she called.

  'Yes, I'm fine. Sorry, I drifted off. I'll be down in a few minutes. God, I look like a prune!'

  She climbed tentatively out of the bath and wrapped herself in the sumptuous white towel she had pulled off the heated rail. It smelt gorgeous, fresh and somehow wholesome. She held it to her face and inhaled slowly. Dressing in the clean clothes laid out for her, she made her way down the well worn stairs, smiling to herself at the creak three from the top. It was sneaking down for a midnight snack, creeping in after a late night out, spying on grown up parties after bed-time.

  'Oh, something smells great. What have you been cooking?' Suze asked, as she walked across the slate tiled kitchen floor and sat with the others around the wooden table created by her dad from a single slice of tree trunk. Jake was deep in conversation with Geoffrey on the art of its creation; his pieces sold for a decent amount.

  'Spinach and cheese pie followed by a clafouti,' replied Katherine.

  'Oh, delicious. I'm starving! We haven't eaten since yesterday.'

  'Come. Sit!' Katherine said, as she doled out the pie onto wooden plates. 'Sautéed potatoes, salad, tuck in,' she added, gesturing to the bowls all ready on the table.

  Little was said as Suze and Jake greedily ploughed their way through the main course. Katherine and Geoffrey smiled at each other across the table. He winked at her, his bushy grey eyebrows like two hairy caterpillars crawling across his forehead.

  'And you made it safely, I mean without drawing attention to yourselves?' Katherine asked, as she sat down with her desert.

  'As far as we know, yeah,' Jake replied.

  'We were so careful,' added Suze, reassuringly, emphasising the so. 'We came in the back way, through the woods too. Just to make sure.'

  'Good, good. You know there's a reward for reporting strangers? Isn't that despicable! People actually call in as well. It's quite beyond me, really. How can anyone?...I mean,' Katherine shook her head despondently. She took a deep breath to calm herself. 'Ah well, it's the world in which we live now isn't it? So sad, so very sad.'

  'It's a bloody disgrace, my love,' said Geoffrey, shaking his gloriously thick head of shoulder length grey hair. His mouth overfull of cherry clafouti, some of which dribbled onto his paisley neckerchief and ancient denim shirt. 'Apologies for my atrocious table manners,' he said, dabbing at his spillage, 'but this is delicious,' his eyes twinkling adoringly at his wife. 'She never feeds me as well as this you know? You really should visit more often,' he winked at Jake. 'So, the cell, thingamajig? Has that been disbanded then?'

  'For now yeah. At least for the foreseeable,' Jake replied. 'Way too risky. We don't know what happened to the site yet and there was more than the usual amount of New Dawn in the area so...'

  'Yes, of course. Damned shame. You were doing such a splendid job of keeping us all informed. Can't rely on the bloody press these days can you? Propagandist poppycock, the lot of it!'

  'Yeah, tell me about it,' said Jake.

  After dinner they relaxed into glasses of Bordeaux as they discussed what had been happening over the past year. The deportations, the demonstrations, the riots, the coup, the complete upheaval of everything they knew. They shared theories of how it had all been allowed to happen. The surge to the far right across Europe, the migrant crisis, political instability, financial insecurity, fascism. Again! No one believed it could happen again, but here they were. The loss of something so integral that it allowed people to be swayed, taken in by mass media and those who control it. Fear.

  'Divide and conquer, my dears. Divide and bloody conquer,' Geoffrey said emphatically.

  'Do you mind if we head on up? We're absolutely exhausted,' said Suze, finally, not wanting to finish the conversion but barely able to keep her eyes open.

  'Of course, of course,' Katherine replied, apologetically 'I should have thought. Sorry! It's just so lovely to see you. I've made up the beds. Jake's in the spare room. You in yours. Goodnight, dears.'

  'Yes, yes. Goodnight. Sleep tight,' added Geoffrey, with a reassuring nod, blowing a kiss to his daughter.

  Sleep came almost instantaneously.

  4

  Suze awoke with a start. 'What the...?' Her mother was urgently shaking her.

  'Get dressed, quickly. Someone's coming. Your father thinks it's a patrol. Come on.'

  'How...?' Suze shook her head in dejected disbelief and threw on her clothes. As they hurried down the stairs she could see her father and Jake waiting by the back door which stood open to the gentle hues of the breaking dawn.

  'Best if you two hide yourselves in the barn for now,' said Geoffrey, attempting to disguise his concern. 'Just to be on the safe side. Off you go.'

  They scurried across the yard and into the barn where bales of straw were piled almost up to the roof, six deep. It smelt of lazy summer days, school holidays, hide and seek. Clambering up to the top they made a makeshift hiding place, then pulled bales over themselves so that they were completely hidden.

  Hens clucked and scratched, pecking at ears of corn. A cat walked over them mewing softly, sniffing at the straw above them. Suze sat holding her knees, crouched, eyes closed. The gentle sounds of the countryside were shattered by the insidious rumblings of approaching military vehicles. The screeching of brakes, slamming of doors and stomping of feet echoed around the courtyard. The barking of John and Yoko was silenced with a yelp. Oh good God, what have we done? She couldn't make out the voices, just the barrage of boots thundering through the house, furniture being overturned, glass and china crashing to the ground, splintering on the polished wooden floors.

  No! Tears streamed down Suze's face as she stared at Jake, clutching his hands, drawing blood. Time became an unknown quantity. She had no idea if this was taking hours or minutes.

  The barn door flew open. The hens squawked and scattered, their useless wings flapping, their dry eyes panicking.

  'Torch it!'

  The spit of the fire as the first bale caught light was signal enough. They clambered out of their hiding place and tumbled down the back of the bales of straw, hidden from the intruders. Hitting the ground they ran from the flames that licked at the fodder. Ran to the back of the barn and out the rear entrance. Shadows drifted through the smoke behind them.

  Suze turned to look back. She thought she could make out her father. Flames were flickering around him.

  Her mother's screams rose above the cacophony. 'No. Oh my God. Please no.' Then indiscernible wailing, inhuman, agonizing. A gunshot.
Another. Suze couldn't breathe. She couldn't draw her eyes away. She stumbled.

  Jake pulled her up and dragged her after him, over the brow of the hill that stood behind the barn, then raced down the other side and into the woods. The trees were dense, confusing. The foliage thick, hampering their progress. Birds rose in alarm, screeching, betraying their whereabouts. Jake ran in the direction he thought would lead them away from the farm but wasn't sure any more.

  He stopped and listened, trying to get his bearings; straining to make out if anyone was in pursuit. He couldn't hear anything now, even the dawn chorus had strangely quieted. The smell of the fire was strong in the air but he couldn't see the smoke through the dense foliage. He couldn't see anything other than trees. He pulled Suze close and held her to him, felt her trembling, gasping for breath.

  'Suze. Fuck! Come on girl. I need you to keep it together,' he whispered in desperation. 'Please. Suze,' stroking her hair. 'You know this place. You need to get us out of here. You can do this Suze. Come on.'

  Her eyes stared blankly. It was as if he wasn't there. As if she wasn't there. As if there was nothing.

  5

  The pale morning sun was breaking through the dense canopy of the woods, sending slithers of light dancing amongst the fluttering leaves. Suze's shoulders heaved as she struggled for breath in between silent sobs. Jake sat her up against a tree and held her face firmly in his two hands. Her eyes seemed not to be registering anything, maintaining their blank stare. He was frightened.

  'Suze. Suze babe. Which way?'

  No response.

  'Forgive me,' he said, as he slapped her. His eyes red; his face tear stained. 'Which way? Which way, Suze?'

  She started, stared at him, turned from him and began to run. Pushing herself through the undergrowth. He followed, hoping to hell she was aware of what she was doing. Tangles of brambles, sticky willies and nettles leapt at their ankles, clawing, sticking, stinging. Each snap of a twig a Judas shouting their presence to the uniforms of the New Dawn Militia, if that's who they were. Though they had little doubt.

  As if from nowhere Yoko was suddenly beside them, limping but silent, as if she knew, sniffing, purposeful. She looked up at Suze. Good girl, Yoko. Quiet now. We need to get away. Far away.

  The dog took over leading the way. Suze and Jake trusting her instinct. She was leading them North, towards the coast. At the edge of the woods she hesitated, looking back. Her ears pricked. Jake and Suze both froze. Checking, scanning.

  'You hear anything?' Jake whispered, relieved to see Suze's eyes focussed, back with him.

  She shook her head. 'It's okay girl, on you go,' she whispered to Yoko. The dog led them along the hedgerow which separated them from the road, silent, free of traffic. They crept through a break, running across the single track road, through another hedge then on towards the coast. The caves, of course. You're a bloody genius, Yoko!

  They slid down the steep, grassy slope soaked with dew which led to the cliffs' edge. They took their time on the cliff. It was steep and dangerous, with perhaps a one hundred metre drop straight down to the sea below. They clambered down, zig zagging along the haphazard track, barely visible to anyone who didn't know of its existence. Reaching the bottom they ran on round the edge of the sandy cove to the point. The waves of the incoming tide crashed against the rocks. Seaweed swirled brown and green in great swathes. Kittiwakes and Gulls squealed and screeched overhead, swooping down to catch their slithering silvery breakfast.

  They had to wade through the surging waters to reach the entrance of the cave which was only just large enough for Jake to clamber through. It opened up into a large cavern with several layers of grey rock, like giant steps, tunnelling back, far under the cliffs; it's ending not in sight. Yoko shook herself, sending translucent silver droplets flying around them. The only sound they could hear was the tumultuous crashing of the waves. An old smuggler's cave. Centuries of refuge from the authorities. A temporary haven?

  Suze pulled herself up on to the lowest ledge and sat breathing heavily, with her back against the wall of the cave, green and slimy. Her wet jeans stuck to her, uncomfortably, stinging against her cut. She pulled her legs close, her head bowed. She felt trickles of sweat dribbling their way indecently down her back. Jake sat down beside her.

  'I am so sorry, Suze,' he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently in to him. She rested her head on his chest and began to cry. 'Let it all out, Suze,' he added, holding her tight. 'Let it all out.' Yoko's gentle pink tongue licked at her tears.

  The tide had now risen above the entrance. The sea lapped softly against the walls of the cave below them. There was no way for anyone to find them for the time being.

  'We should go on up,' Suze gestured towards the higher ledges behind them. 'Keep away from the water.' She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed. 'Come on.' She stood up and patted her thigh. 'Come on, Yoko. Good girl.' Yoko padded after her. The smell of wet dog brought an unexpected smile to her face. Memories. Comforting. Her family. They sat down again on the highest ledge, Yoko panting beside them.

  'How long do you think we should stay here for?' Jake asked.

  'Oh God, I've no idea. Were they looking for us? Are they still? I have no god-damned clue.'

  'I reckon they must have been. Again. Too much of a coincidence. Don't you think? I mean, your mum and dad?'

  'Yes, I guess so. But how? Do you think someone saw us and called in?'

  'Maybe. Or maybe they've got everything on us. Families, friends, the lot, and they've been watching.'

  'Christ, this is such a nightmare.' She pulled at her hair with both hands, squeezing her head. Squeezing. Squeezing.

  'They do have history you know, my mum and dad, demo’s and such like. A while ago though.'

  'Really?'

  'Yes. That's how they officially met. They went to the same uni, shared classes, but had barely spoken. Then, a few years later they both happened to be at the same demonstration in support of the miners in '84. Mum was throwing eggs at the police.' She smiled. 'Dad rushed in to try and stop them from handcuffing her and they both ended up in jail.'

  'Oh priceless! I can just picture it,' Jake laughed. 'They're so lovely and polite and...radical! You must have had an amazing childhood.'

  She sighed, 'Anti-establishmentarianism was very much a part of my upbringing. They were great parents.' She closed her eyes as tears began to fall again. 'Fuck, fuck, fuck! Bastards!' her screams echoing around the cave 'Fu..cking ba..stards,' then breaking into sobs and more tears.

  Jake held her close again. She felt strangely small and vulnerable. He wasn't used to this. She had always seemed so strong. So independent. 'I don't know what to do, Suze. I...I'm so sorry. We don't know for sure what happened though, do we? Maybe...I dunno...maybe things'll work out. You know? You have to keep that in your head.'

  'They…are great parents. You hear that you sons of bitches? They ARE great parents!' she shouted at the cave walls; her voice bouncing back in a substantiating series of dying echoes.

  They sat in silence until the walls were quiet again.

  He smiled at her. 'That's my girl. So what were they studying?'

  'Law, same uni as us, L.S.E. They wanted to save the world, you know? Defenders of the people and all that.'

  'Why the move to Cornwall then? I'd have thought London would have been more active.'

  'Ugly things still happen in beautiful places, you know? Their quality of life was important to them. Being down here kept them sane, they said. They'd travel about a lot. Mum in particular. She was always off doing pro bono stuff for people. But they had enough money and weren't interested in making more so they'd pick and choose. Human rights stuff mainly, and latterly lots of deportations, repatriations. So, they aren't too popular with the establishment right now.'

  'Wow. I had no idea.'

  'Yes, well...' She stroked Yoko's damp head which was now resting on her lap. The dog's eyes fixed on her face. 'Go
od girl,' she smiled.

  6

  They waited until night fell and the tide had receded far enough to allow their exit. The sky was clear and the moon bright enough to light their way over the rocks, made treacherous by water and seaweed. They continued heading east along the coast, slowly and in silence, edging their way as far away from it all as possible.

  Jake was going over everything in his head, trying to work it out. Sure, they'd had to move before, but that was always precautionary, an odd word, a stranger paying too much attention, something unusual on their site, a warning. This was a whole different ball game and he couldn't fathom it. As the miles passed, nothing sprang to mind. None of this made sense.

  Suze was desperately trying to force images of the farm out of her head, trying to focus on the here and now, trying to stay in control of what she could cling to. Dawn was beginning to break and a place to hide becoming urgent. This was no longer familiar territory and she didn't know what lay ahead along the coast. They warily headed back inland, skirting farmers' fields, clinging to hedges, avoiding roads.

  'Wait here,' Jake said, 'I'm gonna check out the house there. It looks empty. For sale sign and shit. Okay?'

  'Okay,' she replied. She sat crouched behind the hedge, watching him make his way furtively through the tangle of grasses and weeds which used to be someone's garden.

  He was back in a couple of minutes. 'Yeah, it's good. The back door was all ready open. Place has been vandalised a bit but not too bad. Come on.'

  The house looked like it had been empty for quite a while. Tattered curtains hung limply from the windows, cobwebs appearing to hold them in place, making the half light they allowed in almost ineffectual. Furniture, modern and little used, had been left behind; the scribblings of a child on one of the arms of the leather settee, stuffing protruding from the random slashings. Ornaments and pictures still attempted to decorate the shelves and tables, coated in a heavy, unforgiving dust. The walls had been daubed with graffiti, swastikas in black, 'England for the English' and 'Fuck of home fuckers', in red, mock dripping blood.