The Enemy

37

David was true to his word. That evening the kids sat down to a slap-up meal in the state dining room. The newcomers couldn’t get over how posh the room was, and how weird it was eating in here, like being in a lush film. The room, which was painted a deep red, was lit by countless candles in silver candlesticks. Along one side tall glass doors looked out over the garden, and the wall opposite was hung with paintings of British monarchs. The kids sat around a massive polished wooden table piled with food. Three giant mirrors at one end of the room reflected the whole surreal scene.

The kids expected that at any moment a furious adult would come in and tell them they didn’t belong here and to get lost.

The food was simple but good, with a choice for everyone. Spaghetti Bolognese, steamed vegetables, baked potatoes and omelettes with warm crusty bread. All washed down with jugs of cool, clear water. The bread was slightly stodgy but it was the first bread any of the Holloway crew had tasted in over a year.

They were all starting to relax and getting to know each other. There was a noisy level of chatter round the long table.

Maxie found herself sitting with Fra

‘I can honestly say I’m happier now than I have ever been in my life. I mean, of course I miss my family, but I’d been at boarding school so I hadn’t seen that much of them lately anyway, no, that’s not fair, I loved them dearly and I do miss them, but David’s got everything so well organized here, he really is a genius, we worship him.’

‘Worship him?’

‘It’s just a figure of speech, I don’t mean to say we throw ourselves to the ground in front of him and offer up thanks, though I think some of the younger children would like to, but he really is clever, things are a lot better all round than they were before.’

‘You are joking, Fra

‘No, I’m quite serious,’ said Fra

‘It’s Maxie.’

‘Sorry, yes.’ Fra

‘But I’ll never see any of those fish,’ said Maxie. ‘Or those whales. Or any lions or tigers. I’m never going to set foot in a rainforest now, am I? I won’t even be able to watch any old DVDs of them without any electricity. What does the future hold? It’s like going back to the Middle Ages. Nobody knowing what was going on beyond their front doorsteps. All I’ll ever know is this. This little bit of London.’

‘So?’ said Fra

‘Future generations?’

‘Of course.’

Ollie leant over. ‘How do you know when we get old we won’t all get the sickness?’

Fra

‘You reckon?’

‘Let’s not talk about gloomy things like that,’ said Fra

‘Whatever.’ Ollie looked around the room. He noticed that not every palace kid was eating with them. Some of the boys in uniform were sitting by the doors, still clutching their rifles. He didn’t like the atmosphere it created. As if David and his friends were trying to recreate the days of royalty. The enemy was outside roaming the streets, not in here. What were they trying to prove with this display?

He could understand it if they were patrolling the grounds – which he had no doubt they were, given the level of David’s organization – it just about made sense to have sentries on duty out front, though even that had looked a little OTT to him. They would have been a lot more use keeping watch from the roof. Whatever, they certainly didn’t need these poor sad acts in uniform watching them eat. There was something military about the boys’ behaviour. They didn’t speak. They stayed very still. It was creepy.

Ollie got up from the table and slipped out of the room. Kids had been coming and going all the time. Some using the toilet, some bringing in food or clearing away dirty dishes. Nobody noticed him leave.

He walked down the corridor as if he was heading for the toilet, checked that no one was looking and carried on walking.

It was time for a little snooping.

Blue was at one end of the table with Jester and David. He was quizzing David. Anxious to find out how everything worked at the palace. ‘So are you in charge then, Dave?’ he asked, shovelling food into his mouth.

‘He doesn’t like “Dave”,’ said Jester. ‘He likes to be called David.’

‘Sorry. David.’ Blue took a sip of water. ‘David what?’

‘Actually my name is David King.’

Blue spluttered, spitting water on to his plate.

‘You are not serious, man?’

‘I am.’

‘Well, remember. Just because you live in a palace it don’t make you a real king.’

‘No?’ David smiled.

‘No way, man. We all used to live in a shop, didn’t make me a shopkeeper.’

‘I never said I was a king, anyway. It’s just my name.’

‘Well, you certainly act like you’re the big cheese.’

‘When we first got here it was chaos,’ said Jester. ‘We were all over the place. But if you want to survive you have to be organized. If you want to grow food, to drink clean water, to stay warm, to defend yourselves, all those things need organization. David arrived a little after the rest of us. He pulled us all together. He organized us.’

Blue glanced at Jester. ‘Things are going to be bare different from now on, man. Bare different.’

‘How so?’ said David.

‘How so? Well. For one, you ain’t go

‘You don’t vote for a king.’

‘Listen –’

‘We’ll talk about it later,’ said David, smiling. ‘It’s no big deal. We’ll work out a way that we can all get along.’

‘Why can’t we talk about it now?’

‘Let’s enjoy the food. You lot need to settle in and find your feet. In the morning everything will seem so much simpler.’

Ollie followed his nose towards the kitchens. Making sure that he wasn’t being followed. Most of the palace was eerily dark and empty, but it made it easy to stay hidden. A staircase near the state dining room led down to the service level. There was a lot of noise coming from the kitchen and Ollie approached cautiously. Standing in the corridor was a large plastic bin on wheels. He looked inside. Empty tins of dog food.

That explained the spaghetti Bolognese.

Oh well, he’d eaten worse.

He carried on and found a spot where he could see into the kitchen without being seen. The room was packed. One group of kids was sweating away at the stoves, another clattering dishes at the sinks, immersed in clouds of steam and smoke. Yet more kids were crowded round a scrubbed wooden table. There looked to be about twenty of them; some in uniform, some still grubby from working in the garden. They weren’t eating anything like what was being served upstairs. They had bowls of some kind of thin stew or soup. As Ollie watched, a boy stood up and shouted over to the cooks.