The kitchen knife.
Gripped it tight. Felt the heft of it in her hand, saw the light glint off the long, sharp, heavy blade.
Didn’t hesitate. Just thrust it outwards, sliced at him. As hard and as fast as she could.
He stood there, shocked, unmoving. Looked down at his chest. Blood began to seep through his white shirt from his left shoulder down to the top of his belt. He looked at her, surprise on his face.
Donna was shocked at the sight too. Couldn’t quite comprehend that she had actually done that, that she was responsible for it. But she recovered quickly. Saw that it had only slowed him down, not stopped him. Slashed him again.
The blood began to pump now, more quickly, soaking the white fabric to a deep red.
Donna looked at the knife, at the man in front of her. He was starting to topple forward, falling to one knee, his hand trying to hold himself together. He looked up at her. The smile was a distant memory. Incomprehension had given way to shock, which had now given up its place for terror. Fear in his eyes.
And Donna felt a surge of strength. She knew now what it must be like to be a man. To have that sense of control, that power. It was a new feeling to her. And she loved it.
She looked at the knife again. She wanted to slash him once more, keep slashing, until there was nothing left of him but ribbons of blood and flesh. Make him answer. Make him pay for the years of pain and abuse she had suffered at the hands of men.
The knife went towards him once more.He cowered away.
She stopped herself. Reminded herself she was doing this for a reason, a purpose.
‘Give me your car keys. Now.’ Shouting, adrenalin raising her voice.
He did so, taking the keys out, throwing them on the ground.
‘Pick them up, Ben.’
She looked behind her at the little boy. He was standing there, hands covering his face, shaking.
‘They’re bad men, Ben,’ she urged him. ‘They’re going to hurt us. We have to do this. Quick.’
He didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ she said, and bent down herself to pick the keys up. ‘Now your wallets. Just the cash.’
Neither of them moved; they just lay there, groaning.
‘Now!’ She brandished the knife once more. It worked.
They both dug into their pockets, flung their wallets on the ground. She bent down, took the cash out. Didn’t look at it as she pocketed it, but it felt like a couple of hundred there.
‘Now phones.’
They did so. She picked them up, threw them over the hedge.
‘Right,’ she said to Ben. ‘Come on.’
She grabbed his hand, pulled him along with her. It was like dragging a small slab of granite.
They ran back the way they had come. The car was still parked there. Donna ran towards it, threw the holdall on to the back seat. Told Ben to get in the passenger side. He did so, moving numbly.
Donna got behind the wheel.
Drove away as fast as she could.
37
The phone rang. And the rest of the world fell away as the Teacher heard the voice.
‘You’re not supposed to call. Not here.’
‘I know,’ said the Lawmaker. ‘And I wouldn’t be. Unless it was important.’
The Teacher sighed. ‘What? I thought we had it all arranged. A plan.’
‘We did. But things have changed since then. Very quickly.’
The younger one’s heart skipped a beat. ‘How?’
‘The investigation seems to be picking up things we don’t want it to. Talking to people we’d rather they didn’t.’
‘Can’t you fix it?’
‘Of course. But it takes time. And there’s been an added complication. The woman who died.’
‘The accident.’
‘Right. Her… partner, shall we say… has disappeared. Taken that boy with her.’
‘But she doesn’t-’
‘We don’t know what she knows. We can’t take the chance.’
The Teacher sighed. ‘We should stick to the original plan. Let the others do their part.’
‘I agree. But there’s more we could be doing.’
The Teacher felt the chill in the words. Knew that further argument was futile. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘We stick to what we’ve already arranged. As far as that goes.’ The Lawmaker’s voice dropped, became conspiratorial. ‘But I think our Missionary friend may have made his final mission.’
‘How d’you mean?’
‘I think he’s been recognised. Even after all this time. And if that’s the case, it won’t take them long to put a name to the face. And then… well. Do I need to tell you?’
Silence.
‘It won’t be a question of damage limitation any more. It’ll be the end. Of everything. We don’t need the Missionary any more. He’s done his part, the deal’s been struck. We’ve already got our new partner, could even be the next Missionary. So the current one would just be… in the way.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
A chuckle. ‘That’s what I like about you. So pragmatic. The Missionary is removed. Permanently.’
‘How? Not one of us, surely.’
‘Of course not. But I imagine the Gardener isn’t too happy at the moment. Waiting for his ritual to go ahead, not knowing whether he’s going to get his victim returned to him or not, he’s going to have a lot of pent-up energy. He’s going to need a release.’
‘But on the Missionary… ’
‘Poetic, don’t you think?’
‘Would he do it?’
The Lawmaker laughed. What do you think? The Missionary will be on… gardening leave. Permanently.’
The Teacher thought about it. ‘Does the Portreeve know?’
‘Not yet.’
‘
‘Eventually. They’ll all find out.’
‘So why tell me?’
‘Because the Portreeve is the past. And you’re the future. And it’s always wise to invest in the future.’
The Teacher could find no words.
‘We’ll talk tomorrow. Remember, you still have a part to play.’
‘I hadn’t forgotten.’
‘Looking forward to it?’
‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘We’ll speak soon.’
The phone went dead.
The Teacher put the phone away. The real world, held in abeyance for the duration of the call, started up again.
But it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel right.
It felt like an illusion.
It felt like… nothing at all.
