The Dead

He heard a meow and looked up. Frédérique was holding her cat-carrying box at Jack’s eye level and he could see the tabby cowering suspiciously at the far end, its eyes wide and staring.

‘You all right?’

Frédérique nodded, the curtain of hair round her face opening for a moment. Jack got a glimpse of eyes as wide and frightened as the cat’s.

‘Have you got some food for her?’ he asked. ‘Him? Is it a male or a female?’

A voice came from behind the hair, so quietly that for a second or two Jack thought he’d imagined it.

‘Female.’

‘Have you got some food for her?’

Frédérique nodded again.

‘What’s her name?’

‘Dior.’ A whisper.

‘Like the perfume?’

Frédérique shrugged.

Jack knew she wanted something, but couldn’t work out what. At least she was speaking, though, coming out of her shell a little. It was a start. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She’d tell him in her own time what it was she wanted.

At last she spoke again.

‘Dior must come out of her cage for a minute.’

‘Really?’

‘She needs to go to the bathroom.’

Jack’s smile grew wider before he could stop himself.

‘She needs a crap?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well. OK. Let’s go outside. But won’t she run off?’

‘I don’t think so. She is scared, though.’

Jack got up. We’re all scared, he thought, but said nothing. He led Frédérique up the aisle towards the front.

As he got nearer to Greg he saw that he and Liam had better food than the others. Proper cheese, crackers, a tin of cold beans, even some apples and slices of smoked meat. He watched as Greg offered some meat to Liam. Liam shook his head, concentrating on the handful of crackers he was munching his way through.

Jack paused and put a hand on Frédérique’s arm. He didn’t want to interrupt and wind Greg up any more. He waited for his moment, listening to their conversation.

‘You gotta get some protein inside you,’ Greg was complaining to Liam.

‘Cheese is protein.’

‘Meat is better.’

‘I’m all right. I don’t want it. I don’t like it.’

‘Go on – it’s good for you. Look at me. I eat well and I’m healthy. You want to be like me, don’tcha?’

‘I am healthy, Dad.’

‘You won’t stay healthy if you don’t eat proper balanced food.’

Greg noticed Jack and stopped talking. Jack stepped forward.

‘We want to get off the bus.’

Greg went back to his food.

‘You’re walking from here?’ he asked.

‘No. We just need to go outside for a minute.’

‘Way too risky, pal. Don’t even think about it.’

‘Oh, come on – we can see fine from here. If anyone comes, we’ll get straight back on.’

‘What d’you want to get off for anyway? Fresh air?’

‘The cat needs a dump.’

Greg laughed, like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

‘I’ll tell you what we can do with that cat,’ he said when he’d calmed down and taken control of himself. ‘We’ll skin him, gut him, butcher him and make him into some nice kebabs.’ He finally turned back round to look at the two of them. ‘How does that sound?’

Frédérique gasped and held the box more tightly to her chest. This made Greg laugh even harder.

‘Only joking, love. Did you see her face, Liam? What a picture. But, seriously, that moggy’s go

‘The cat’s all she’s got,’ said Jack. ‘Bit like you and Arsenal.’

Greg peered at Jack, trying to work out if he was making fun of him. In the end he gave him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Point taken,’ he said, and opened the door.

‘You want to go out there in the rain, that’s fine with me. But the first sign of any trouble I’m pulling up the drawbridge. The door closes and stays closed. Savvy?’

21

Jack and Frédérique stood by the coach in the drizzle. The rain had died down a little. There was just a general dampness in the air rather than actual drops falling. It had got colder and Jack shivered. He watched as Frédérique squatted down and put her cat box on the ground. She carefully opened the front then reached in to take hold of the cat. She eased her out and held her under her chin, stroking her and whispering soothing words into her twitching ear. Then she sneezed. Just her luck if she was allergic to cats.

Jack looked along the stretch of empty road ahead. They’d gone on a very roundabout route since leaving Rowhurst and he wasn’t sure whether they were any nearer to London than when they’d started.

Ed came down off the bus, zipping up his jacket.

‘What are you doing?’

Jack nodded towards Frédérique. ‘Cat needs a crap.’

Ed smiled. ‘Feels good to be out of there,’ he said, and glanced back to make sure Greg couldn’t hear them.

‘It’s a bit claustrophobic, if you know what I mean. Greg’s kind of … Well, he fills the space.’

‘I hate guys like that,’ said Jack. ‘Always trying to throw their weight around. He’s a bully.’

‘Yeah, but remember we’d all be dead without him. Those teenagers were –’

Jack shot Ed a look and nodded towards Frédérique, who was gently putting the cat down into the long grass by the side of the road. The girl was terrified; there was no point in making it worse by reminding her of how close she’d come to being killed.

Ed mouthed ‘sorry’ and Jack went over to Frédérique. The cat was looking around nervously, then she stretched her back and darted quickly under a bush where she sat looking back at Frédérique.

‘You’re sure she won’t run off?’

‘I have food. She will come back for food.’ Frédérique fished a small can of cat food out of her coat pocket and popped the lid.

‘I did not want to open it on the bus. I was worried that if anyone sees it they will take it. It is food, n’est-ce pas?’

‘I’ll make sure they leave you alone,’ said Jack. ‘That’s your food – you can do what you like with it.’

‘Thank you. I will put it in her cage when she is finished.’ She said something to the cat in French. The cat checked out her surroundings once more then walked daintily on stiff legs out from under the bush, tiptoeing a little deeper into the sodden greenery of the verge.

Greg was watching the three of them through the window.

‘Look at those idiots,’ he said to Liam and chuckled. ‘They ain’t even got the sense to be scared.’

‘Is it all right to be scared, Dad?’ Liam asked quietly.

‘A little, son, just a little. Keeps you on your toes.’

‘D’you get scared?’

‘Course I do. Wouldn’t be human otherwise, would I? But you don’t have to be scared, Liam, ’cause I’m always go

‘I try, Dad. I try not to be. But I ain’t like you, really. You’re a man.’

Greg put an arm round Liam and gave him a bear hug.

‘Listen, Liam, everything I’m doing, I’m doing for you. I sound like that soppy song, don’t I? But it’s true. I don’t really care about me, whether I live or die, quite frankly, and before you go getting all down in the mouth I don’t aim to be kicking the bucket any time in the near future, OK? Not while I’ve got you to look out for. My job now is the same as it’s always been, since the day you was born. To protect you. To stop you from being scared. To put my arms round you. It’s a bad world out there, son, and without me you’d be dead in five minutes.’

‘I know, Dad.’

‘So you have to listen to me, do as I say. If anything was to happen to you, I’d go mad. Maybe that’s what’s keeping me healthy, eh? My love for you.’

‘Could be, Dad.’