the next. He stopped at a large drawing room at the rear of the house. French windows looked out over a garden so big they couldn't see the bottom in the dark. The room was decorated with an abundance of antiques on a deep carpet; large, gilt-framed paintings hung on the walls and a log fire crackled in the grate, despite the warmth of the day. A piano stood in one corner.
Several people were gathered in the room, their apprehensive, pale faces turned towards Veitch, Shavi and Laura. There were four women, one in her forties with blonde hair so lacquered it resembled a helmet, the others in their sixties or older, but still well turned-out. The rest were men of different ages and shapes, but they had one thing in common which only Veitch could see: the vague air that the world belonged to them.
'I say, what do you think you're doing?' Sir Richard stepped forward from the back of the group, a glass of brandy nestled in his palm. His cheeks were slightly flushed; Laura couldn't tell if it was from the fire, the brandy or the interruption.
Veitch stepped forward and smashed the glass from his grip with the back of his hand. It shattered on the floor.
'Good Lord, are you mad?'
'I fucking hate toffs and rich bastards,' Veitch spat. There was a note in his voice which made Laura's blood run cold.
Shavi stepped forward. 'Ryan, are you sure-'
He whirled. 'Yes, I am fucking sure! You two wouldn't even have thought of this because you've got a good outlook on life. You were brought up right in a modern world where everybody treats each other at face value, and that's how it should be. But there are still people out there, even in this fucking day and age, who think they're better than others, because they were born that way or because they earned a bundle of fucking cash.' He turned back to Sir Richard. 'Am I right?'
Sir Richard flustered indignantly. 'If you're implying that I-'
'Shut the fuck up.'
Laura watched the scene with a terrible fascination. The sense of irrational, uncontrollable threat that Veitch was radiating scared even her, so God knows how frightened the great and good of the village felt. She looked round and saw the dismay and worry marked in their faces; they looked as if Veitch was about to shoot them, then rob them; and with her hand on her heart, Laura couldn't say that he wouldn't.
Veitch turned to Shavi, but he was obviously talking to the whole room. 'Let me tell you what happened. When the rich old lady was the first to catch it, this lot were horrified. They thought they were fucking untouchable here in their little sanctuary. But that was a big alarm: anybody could get it now the whole world had been turned on its head, and they had no special fucking privileges to protect them. And then when the drunk got it the little lightbulbs started popping over their heads. He was a fucking undesirable, a piss-head and a burden on fucking society. Maybe it wasn't even so bad that he got it. The village would look a lot prettier without his piles of puke in the gutter. And then they thought, it didn't have to be them who ended up as dead meat. There were a few more that the village could do without. Lazy layabouts without a job for a start.' He put on a mock high-class voice, but it was still laced with venom. 'Wasn't there a little pocket of them down in that part of the village we never went to, where those cheap, dirty little houses were?'
'Now hang on a minute! Those were our neighbours!' a tall, thin man in a dark suit said sharply. 'We always got on well with them.'
'You tolerated them because you were on top,' Veitch snapped. 'But when your backs were against the wall, you didn't have far to look for sacrifices. You knew those fucking creatures left you alone for a bit after they'd eaten. But you knew they couldn't get into a house without the door open. So what did you do? One or two of you fucking cowards went down after dark and jimmied a door open.'
Laura suddenly realised why Veitch had been examining the door frames; he'd been looking for splinters where the locks had been forced. And she guessed from his past experience he had a perfectly good idea what a jimmied door looked like.
'So you consigned those poor bastards to be meat for another scavenging class we've all had dumped on us.'
Shavi was looking from Veitch to the faces of the assembled group and then back; the truth of Witch's account was in the guilt that was heavy in every feature. But Shavi was still puzzled. 'I do not understand. If all the doors were locked, the creatures would not have been able to get to anyone-'
Veitch shook his head. 'You're too much of a good bloke, Shav. You've got to think like these bastards. They like cash. They'll do anything for cash. It's their fucking god. They hated being prisoners in their own homes. Couldn't make any lucre. But if those creatures laid low for a few days they had a chance to see if they could get their businesses going. Working their fucking big farms or trying to keep their fucking wine-importing business going or whatever the fuck it was.' He turned slowly around to them. 'That was it, wasn't it?'
Sir Richard began to protest. Veitch stepped forward and hit him sharply in the mouth; his lip burst open and blood splattered on his clean, white shirt. A gasp rippled round the room, and Laura realised she had joined in, so shocking was the image.
One of the old women started to cry. 'I'm sorry-'
'Bit fucking late for that. Thought you'd get rid of a single mum last time, didn't you? Instead you got a poor kid.'
'We didn't mean-'
'Shut up. Whose idea was it?'
There was a long silence while everyone in the room tried to read what his next actions would be. Finally Sir Richard stopped dabbing at his lip. 'It was all of us. We discussed it together.' There was an unpleasant defiance in his face that gave the truth to everything Veitch had said.
'Yeah? Fair enough.' Veitch nodded reasonably. Then he slowly drew the crossbow out of the harness, loaded it and pointed it at the thin man in the dark suit; his face turned instantly grey. 'We'll start here then.'
'No, Ryan,' Shavi cautioned. Veitch ignored him. He slowly tightened his finger on the trigger.
'No!' The thin man pointed a shaking finger at Sir Richard. 'It was his idea! Yes, we all went along with it! But it was his idea!'
'You know what? I fucking thought as much. I'm a good judge of character like that. I know scum when I see it. And I knew you slimy fuckers would all be jumping to save your own skin when the shit hit the fan.' He motioned to Sir Richard with the crossbow. 'You're coming with me, matey.'
'I certainly am not!' Sir Richard's eyes darted round like a hunted animal. Before he could move Veitch had loosed the bolt into the floor and had clubbed him on the side of the head with the crossbow. Sir Richard slumped to the floor unconscious.
Veitch coolly reclaimed the bolt and slipped it back into the harness with the crossbow. Then he bent down and effortlessly slung Sir Richard over his shoulder. He turned to Shavi and Laura as he marched towards the door. 'I'll see you at the pub later.'
'Where are you going, Ryan?' Shavi asked darkly.
'I said, I'll see you later.' He tried to mask what was in his face with a tight smile, but Laura and Shavi both saw, and wished they hadn't.
The journey through the temple, across the autumnal fields, and out into the wide world, resembled a funeral procession. Ruth's face was like jagged shards of glass, her eyes constantly fixed on an inner landscape. She leaned on Church, for emotional rather than physical support, but his tread was heavy. Tom followed behind, unusually disoriented, with Max looking poleaxed at the rear.
In Richmond it was midmorning, the air heavy with an unpleasant heat. Insects buzzed in from the surrounding dales, and traffic fumes choked the market place. They had no idea if it was the next day or several weeks hence; although it remained unspoken, they all knew the date was now mightily significant.
In the back seat of the car, Ruth could no longer contain herself. She undid her jeans and pulled them down over her belly; there was an unmistakable swelling there.
'It doesn't make any sense!' Church protested to Tom. 'There's nothing actually, physically inside her! Is there?'
Tom looked away, shaking his head; it could have meant anything. Ruth broke down in sobs of shock.
After they had subsided, she slumped on the back seat in desperate silence. Tom caught Church's eye and the two of them slipped out, leaving Max to keep an eye on her.
