Witch Hunt

Chapter Forty-Seven




There was only one place I could go, though I knew I shouldn’t.

When he opened the door his face was like a cartoon: all wriggles and frowns. I might have laughed if I hadn’t have been half dead.

‘You know that shoulder you once offered me?’ I said. ‘I think I could do with it now.’ And then I placed myself in Joe’s capable hands.

He wanted to take me to hospital of course. But I wouldn’t let him, insisting he stitched me up instead with a sterilised needle and some strong cotton. I was already fading in and out of consciousness by then so the pain never seemed too bad. I can’t even remember what it was like now.

What I do remember is Joe’s reaction as I gabbled on about what had happened. His face switched into an expression of disbelief as I took him through the last days and finished with the scene on the riverbank. When I showed him the suitcase and its contents his features changed. Then he sat down and put his head in his hands.

I was trying with all my might to keep myself conscious, figuring I had only hours to get out of the country. Felix’s absence would be noticed come morning – if Cutt wasn’t already alarmed by now.

‘You have to get me to an airport,’ I told Joe. ‘I’ve got to be out on an early flight.’

He just sat there, cradling his head, passing his hands back and forth over the stubble of his hair. ‘I’m sorry to involve you but I didn’t know who else to turn to.’

He looked up and I saw that there was fear in his eyes. ‘Sadie, you’ve really screwed this up. Do you have any idea of what a serious situation this is?’

‘Of course I do. I’m sorry, really I am. Just give me six hours and then you can report me.’

Joe glared at the floor and for a second his face was so tightly drawn I thought he might start to cry or curse me. ‘But you’re here now.’ He pointed at me, then hit his chest. ‘You’ve made me an accessory for Christ’s sake.’

‘I’m …’ I gave up. Sorry didn’t cut it, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say and my vision was coming and going. I was starting to see double.

Joe stood up abruptly. ‘I’m a policeman, Sadie. You know that. You’ve come here for a reason, even if you don’t realise what it is right now. Or else you wouldn’t have chosen to come to me.’

‘Please, Joe.’ I couldn’t even move towards him. My head was so heavy, shoulder burning, and the disinfectant Joe had dabbed on my cuts was stinging like hell. All my concentration was going into staying upright. ‘I need to get some stuff from the flat.’

He pulled on a jacket. ‘You have to turn yourself in. It’s self-defence. Let me go with you.’

But I was not to be persuaded. Cutt had friends in very high places. I didn’t trust anyone any more, except Joe. And that’s what I told him. I think he saw my point.

I thought again that he was going to sob but in the end he stood up. ‘Wait here one moment,’ he said, then went into his bedroom.

When he returned he had a small holdall.

I made Joe wait for me in the car outside my flat. It was safer for him that way.

I had one last thing to do and for that I needed solitude.

In the living room I pulled the blanket from the mirror. Then I called her up.

‘Rebecca, are you there?’ My voice was a whisper leached of strength. In the shattered reflection I could see myself swaying from side to side. And I could now feel the throb of my shoulder. But I had to do this.

Silence.

‘Are you there?’ Please come.

A small noise from the other side of fractured glass. A snuffling in the everworld.

‘Yes, I’m here.’ Her voice, frail, shaky.

I was chill and faint, pushing myself on with pure will. I had to tell her what I’d realised. She needed to know.

So I summoned the last scraps and told her, ‘I am Mercy.’

A sudden exhalation beyond the mirror. Then the words, ‘Mercy, my child.’

I heard a pattering and scratching on the other side of the glass. First the uncombed black hair came into view, then her face, pale and wild, eyes wide, vivid. And I gasped too, shocked to the quick, seeming to look into the very face of my mother at fifteen.

‘Mother? Rebecca?’

The girl’s dirty brow creased. ‘You. As pale as an angel.’

‘I am alive. I am Mercy. He’s dead now.’ I said it again. ‘I’m here.’

‘I’m so sorry. You understand?’ Her eyes begged for the response that I came here to give.

‘Yes,’ I told her. ‘I forgive you. Of course I do.’

‘I was a child.’

‘I know.’

I watched a weak smile creep over her features, then the blackness seemed to strengthen and move across her, beginning to dissolve her form into nothingness. ‘You can go now,’ I said. ‘I’m going too. I love you. You are forgiven. Mercy.’

‘It’s ended?’ she asked with only her eyes.

‘It’s ended,’ I repeated to the reflection.