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Now two contradictory impulses battled inside her. The first was allied to her exhaustion; it urged caution and compliance and urged her to chant to drive everything else from her mind. It recalled the dreadful hours in the box and whispered that the Waces were capable of worse than that, if she broke any more rules. But the second asked her how she could return to her daily tasks knowing that a small boy was being slowly starved to death behind the farmhouse walls. It reminded her that she’d managed to slip out of the dormitory by night many times without being caught. It urged her to take the risk one more time, and escape.
She was brought a second bowl of noodles and a glass of water at dinner time, this time by a boy who also kept his gaze carefully averted from Jacob and looked repulsed by the smell in the room, to which Robin had become acclimatised.
Dusk arrived, and Robin had now read almost all of the newspapers lying on the floor. Not wanting to put on the electric light in case it disturbed the child in the cot, she got up and moved to the small dormer window to continue reading an article about Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn. Having finished this, she turned the page over and saw the headline SOCIALITE DIED IN BATH, INQUEST TOLD, before realising that the picture below was of Charlotte Ross.
Robin’s gasp was so loud Jacob stirred in his sleep. With one hand pressed over her mouth, Robin read the article, the paper held inches from her eyes in the dying light. She’d just read how much alcohol and how many sleeping pills Charlotte had taken before slitting her wrists in the bath, when there was a soft knock on the attic door.
Robin threw the report about Charlotte back onto the floor and hastened back to her chair as the door opened to reveal Emily, whose head, like her mother’s, was freshly shaven.
Emily closed the door quietly. From what Robin could see of her through the rapidly darkening room, she looked apprehensive, almost tearful.
‘Rowena – I’m so sorry, I’m really, really sorry.’
‘What about?’
‘I told them you gave me money in Norwich. I didn’t want to, but they were threatening me with the box.’
‘Oh, that… it’s OK, I admitted it, too. It was stupid to expect them not to notice.’
‘You can go. Jiang’s waiting downstairs to escort you to the dormitory.’
Robin stood up and had taken a couple of steps towards the door when something strange happened.
She suddenly knew – didn’t guess, or hope, but knew – that Strike had just arrived beside the blind spot at the perimeter fence. The conviction was so strong that it stopped her in her tracks. Then she turned slowly to face Emily again.
‘Who are Jacob’s parents?’
‘I don’t – we don’t… you shouldn’t ask stuff like that.’
‘Tell me,’ said Robin.
Robin could just make out the whites of Emily’s eyes by the fading light from the window. After a few seconds Emily whispered,
‘Louise and Jiang.’
‘Lou—seriously?’
‘Yeah… Jiang isn’t allowed to go with the younger women. He’s an NIM.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Non-Increasing Male. Some of the men aren’t allowed to go with fertile women. I don’t think anyone thought Louise could still get pregnant, but… then Jacob came.’
‘What did you mean, when you told me Daiyu did forbidden things at the farm?’
‘Nothing,’ whispered Emily, now sounding panicky. ‘Forget I—’
‘Listen,’ said Robin (she knew Strike was there, she was certain of it), ‘you owe me.’
After a couple of seconds’ silence, Emily whispered,
‘Daiyu used to sneak off instead of doing lessons, that’s all.’
‘What was she doing, when she sneaked off?’
‘She went into the woods, and into barns. I asked her and she said she was doing magic with other people who were pure spirit. Sometimes she had sweets and little toys. She wouldn’t tell us where she’d got them, but she’d show us. She wasn’t what they say she was. She was spoiled. Mean. Becca saw it all, too. She pretends she didn’t—’
‘Why did you tell me Daiyu didn’t drown?’
