Hurst - Robin Crumby (bookreader TXT) 📗

She’d never seen him like this. He had been running on empty and letting things get on top of him. It was like the last few days had drained all that remained of his hope. She’d seen it before during her time as a physiotherapist working with combat veterans. Physical injury sometimes impacted a person’s outlook on the world. She reassured herself that the condition was normally temporary. Normally. The sooner they got out of this place, the better.

It was dinnertime downstairs and one of the sisters was ringing an old-fashioned brass handbell, summoning all the residents to the hall where they had laid out a buffet dinner. Two enormous stainless steel receptacles sat steaming, fresh from the kitchen. The smell was sensational. Fresh vegetable soup and a rich beef chilli served with fluffy white basmati rice. Any hot dinner was one to be savoured.

Two scrawny-looking women, with mean faces and skin wrinkled like old leather, were slopping generous portions onto bowls held out in turn by the next person in line. They reminded Riley of the school dinner ladies at her secondary school, with grey checked aprons and unfashionable hairnets. One of the younger girls was in charge of rationing one piece of bread and one slice of Victoria sponge cake for dessert. Apparently the cake was a rare treat, it being one of the women’s birthday today. Adele ran up and joined Riley from where she’d been sitting with two other young girls about her own age.

“Hey, kiddo. What ya been doing? Staying clear of the God squad?” asked Riley.

Adele looked puzzled. “I suppose. When are we getting out of this dump? It’s so, so boring here. No one lets you do anything. It’s all ‘do this, do that, don’t do this, don’t do that’. Work, work, work. My fingers are red raw from peeling potatoes.”

“You poor thing. Sounds terrible. Have you eaten already?”

“Yeah, although the food’s disgusting,” she said too loudly, to the scorn of the one of the dinner ladies. Adele stared back defiantly but then turned away, her cheeks flushed. Riley carried her tray to the far end of a long table where a group of women was deep in conversation, ignoring their presence until they sat down anyway.

“I saw Zed. He’s feeling a lot better. Reckon he’ll be fit enough to move first thing in the morning. Have you seen the others?”

“Stella was at evening prayers. I saw Mila outside helping in the garden.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the Mother Superior heading in their general direction. Her habit was so long she appeared to glide between the tables, pausing to make small talk, doing her bit for community relations. She paused at Riley and Adele’s table, aware of eyes watching furtively from all the surrounding groups.

“I do hope you’re settling in well. In time, I’m sure you will come to appreciate how we run things round here.”

“We’re not staying. As soon as Zed’s better, we’re leaving.”

“We were rather hoping that you’d decide to stay for a little bit longer.”

“Not unless you’ve softened your views on men in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Actually, quite the opposite. Their presence has provided a useful reminder of why we established this commune in the first place: to provide sanctuary from oppression. Nothing has changed for any of us, nor will it any time soon, if that’s what you’re hoping. It was only your kindness towards Stella that made us bend our rules. As soon as your friend is well enough, the men must leave. As I’m sure you can understand…”

“I don’t understand,” Riley interrupted, infuriated by the high-handedness of the sister. “I’ll never understand.” Those around them fell silent, turning their attention to their conversation.

“Well, in that case, perhaps it’s better that you are leaving. We have tried to open your eyes, but if you choose not to see, then I cannot help you. My dear, turning a blind eye to evil doesn’t make evil disappear. By ignoring something you sustain it. Until you take a stand, men’s brutality will only get worse. The only person you are fooling is yourself.” She turned and with a swish of her starched habit, she brushed past them and was gone.

Riley clenched her fists, ready to explode, aware of others watching her. When she had regained control of her emotions she glanced across the table at Adele who was pulling a face at her, eyes-crossed and tongue lolling on her bottom lip, trying to make Riley laugh. It worked. Riley shook her head and leaned in to whisper “Silly woman. Who does she think she is?”

After dinner, they stacked their plates, put their trays back in the rack and wandered outside, engrossed in conversation. Riley was telling Adele all about life at Hurst, their routines, the people she would meet, the views over the sea and surrounding coastline. It was a beautiful clear evening, their shoes crunching on the gravel as they walked together, side by side, Adele’s hand finding Riley’s and falling into step with her.

They headed through the courtyard past several parked vehicles looking for Joe who was said to be in one of the outbuildings, locked up with the other men. The guard from earlier was sat outside the stable block, reading a paperback novel with embossed lettering on the front, some trashy romance. She raised a single finger to acknowledge their presence as she finished her page. Without saying a word, she got slowly to her feet, beckoning them to follow.

At the back of the building block, along a crumbling old brick wall were some gabled doors. She wrestled with the padlock before unhooking the latch and swinging the door open just wide enough for the two visitors to squeeze through. As she closed and locked it again, she called out in a gruff voice that they were to knock when they were done and she’d come back and let them out again.

Inside it was surprisingly dark. A single window was covered with cobwebs and years of accumulated grime. It took a couple of seconds for their eyes to adjust before locating Joe in the darkness. He was lying on a low camp bed with his arms behind his head daydreaming.

“How you doing, trouble?” asked Riley. She sat on the side of the bed, leaning back against the bare brickwork. A shiver rippled through her back and shoulders. She hugged her knees tightly. Adele kept her distance, seemingly unsure of herself in Joe’s company.

“Can’t complain,” said Joe with a sigh, pulling his sweater down over his bulging stomach.

“For someone who’s been locked up in a dingy stable you sound surprisingly cheery.”

He smiled and rolled on his side. There was an unexpected glow about him. “Well, can’t say I’ve ever been anywhere like this before. Not sure I want to leave so soon.”

“What are you talking about? We can’t wait to get out of this dump.”

“The women here are not like any I’ve met before, just…to die for.” He sounded dreamy, as if he’d just woken up.

“Have you gone soft in the head? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, they’ve kept me pretty busy. I’ve barely had a moment to myself. I’m now a fully signed-up member of their breeding programme.”

Riley laughed in shock. “Please tell me you’re kidding?”

“Nope, not a bit of it. Two visitors today already. All wanting the same thing.” He put his arms behind his head, looking very pleased with himself. “No complaints from me. I’ve been more than happy to oblige.”

“Gross,” said Adele. “That’s disgusting.”

“Not to me,” said Joe defiantly. “Best thing that’s ever happened. I feel like a gigolo. Never had such fun. Never want to leave.”

“You look like you’ve died and gone to heaven, you dirty dog,” said Riley, laughing. “It’s grim, Joe. Don’t you find it demeaning? It’s borderline inhumane keeping you and the others locked up like this and being forced to mate.” He was smiling, enjoying her superciliousness, listening intently to her protestations of injustice and morality. “But hey, I can see it’s pointless arguing with you. You’re like a cat that’s got the cream.”

“Too right. Beyond my wildest dreams.”

She laughed, in spite of her feelings. Riley told him about Zed and the others. “As soon as Zed is fit enough to walk, we’re out of here. With or without you. If you want to stay here and live like this, fair play. But we need to get back to Hurst.”

Joe nodded. It felt like days since they’d left Hurst, but in reality it was less than forty-eight hours.

Riley became pensive, thinking about their friends back at the castle, suddenly worried at how long they had been gone. “They’ll be wondering what’s happened to us by now. Those guys from the hospital are sure to come looking for us, whether they follow the trail here or go straight to Hurst. If this place gets attacked, we’re all too vulnerable. It’s a miracle they’ve lasted this long, unless someone is protecting them.”

“Can’t we stay a few more days? I’m just beginning to like it here,” pleaded Joe.

“You can’t live like this. You’ve got a job to do. Back in the real world. Hurst needs you.”

He didn’t respond, but he knew she was right. “Okay, okay. Just come and get me in the morning when you’re ready to leave. If I’m not too busy, I suppose I could come with you, tear myself away from all this hard labour.”

“That’s the spirit. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

Riley patted Joe on the calf and sauntered over to the door. She lingered for a second, taking in the squalor of Joe’s confinement, light streaming through a large hole from a knot in the wood. She rapped her knuckles loudly on the stable door and waited for the guard to let them out.

“See you tomorrow, stud.”

Chapter Thirty-six

At ten o’clock sharp, the bell for curfew rang and Riley, Mila and Adele were escorted back to the drawing room that served as their dormitory. Every resident was expected to be in her own room, with lights out by ten thirty. It reminded Riley of the summer activity camps her parents had sent her on, but without any of the fun.

It had been an enjoyable evening with Riley and Mila as guests of honour for a whole programme of entertainment organised by the Chewton Glen social committee. A general knowledge quiz was followed by an open-microphone style session, rounded off with a reading from Charles Dickens’s Great Expectations by a young girl with an accomplished theatrical voice.

Adele fell asleep on a sofa waiting for the grown-ups to finish their conversations. Riley struggled to lift her limp body. Her skin was the colour of milk, almost translucent in the dim light of the candle Stella carried, leading them back to the drawing room where they were sleeping. She made sure they still had blankets and pillows and then stood aside as one of the guards locked them in for the night.

Riley covered Adele with a blanket and settled down into the armchair, adjusting the cushions behind her head. She stared at the empty leather sofa where Zed had slept the previous night. She had checked in on him again after dinner but he was still spark out. A plasma drip was attached to his arm, replenishing lost fluids. His complexion was regaining some of its usual colour as the medicine worked its magic.

Riley closed her eyes and was just drifting off when someone started ringing the dinner bell with an unmistakeable degree of urgency.

“What’s going on?” asked a startled Mila, sitting bolt upright.

Riley raced over to the door and started banging on it, rattling the handle and shouting at the top of her voice, but there was no answer. They were in a remote part of the hotel, way down a long corridor, far from the main living quarters. Mila joined her, peering through the keyhole but all she could see was the far wall and a doorway to another room. Riley pushed her out