Mesmeris Read online

  A man in the group smiled at us. He looked about my dad’s age – forty or so. His hair was completely white, contrasting strangely with his black eyebrows and dark eyes. ‘Excuse me a moment.’ He said, and came towards us, his hand outstretched. ‘Jack.’

  ‘Papa.’

  Papa smiled. ‘You must be Pearl - Howard Pitt.’ He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘Enchanté,’ he said.

  I smiled.

  ‘Very nice,’ Papa said. ‘There are bruises, yes?’

  Jack widened his eyes at me – a warning. He brushed the hair back from my face.

  ‘Ah!’ Papa peered at my forehead. ‘So small. Your lack of enthusiasm disappoints me, Jack.’

  ‘There are more, Papa,’ Jack said, ‘but not on her face – it’s too beautiful.’

  ‘There’s nothing more beautiful than a bruise,’ Papa said. ‘You should know that.’ He lifted my hand. ‘May I?’ He pushed my sleeve back. ‘Ah, there.’ His eyelids drooped as his fingers traced the red, purple and blue lines and blotches. ‘The colours.’ His fleshy lips glistened. ‘The damage.’ He sighed. ‘Beautiful violence, no?’

  ‘Papa.’ Jack nodded.

  Papa looked at me, tilted his head. ‘You disagree, Pearl?’

  My body trembled with anger, made it hard to speak. ‘Violence is ugly,’ I said. ‘Vile - disgusting. There’s nothing beautiful about it.’

  Papa laughed and patted me on the head as if I were a child. ‘Ah, there you are wrong – but you will learn. Yes, you will learn. Inflicting pain on another is . . .’ He licked his lips. ‘. . . true beauty. Yes, Jack?’

  ‘Yes, Papa,’ Jack said. He averted his eyes.

  ‘It is art, no?’ Papa said. ‘Like this Cezanne.’ He pointed at a dark painting of three figures. A woman lay on the ground, a terrified look on her face while another woman held her down. Above them stood a man holding a knife, his arm raised over his head, about to plunge it into the captive’s chest. ‘It is pure,’ Papa said, ‘like this music.’ He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, his mouth slightly open, as the violins wailed and wept. We watched in silence. As the music reached a crescendo and died, Papa’s body juddered. He opened his eyes. ‘I should mingle,’ he said. ‘I shall see you and your bruises later, Pearl – when we welcome you to our little family.’ He patted Jack’s back. ‘Well done, my boy. Good work.’

  ‘Papa,’ Jack said, his eyes lowered.

  Lill pushed between us. I noticed with a pang of jealousy how the backless dress clung to her perfect figure, how it shimmered in the light.

  ‘I want you to meet someone.’ She snaked her arm around Jack’s waist and led him away without a glance in my direction.

  I thought about going after them but my pride wouldn’t let me. Instead, I hung about for five minutes or so, uncomfortably aware of how my scruffy Parka, jeans and Doc Martens stood out among all the expensive gowns and immaculate dinner suits. No one talked to or even looked at me. My glass was empty but the waiters, so eager to serve everyone else, managed to avoid coming anywhere near me. For someone so grossly underdressed, it seemed I’d become invisible.

  I made my way towards the garden. The French windows stood open, despite the cold weather, and yet the room felt warm. Jack and Lill stood by the fireplace, talking with Papa and another man. The flames of the log fire flickered and lit up Jack’s face and, for a moment, I stared at him and thought how beautiful he was. Then he slid his arm around Lill’s waist and I looked away.

  ‘Crap music, eh?’ A red-haired boy stood next to me, one of those on the minibus by the look of his jeans and hoodie. He smiled at my nod. It was a relief to see somebody normal, the kind of person I recognised. A girl came through the French windows after him – dyed black hair cut in a bob with a blunt fringe. Everything on her face seemed to be pierced – nose, lip, eyebrow. Her eyes looked a bit like mine, except her black liner was no doubt deliberate.

  ‘Hi,’ she said to me. ‘Some fucking party, eh?’

  I nodded. ‘Not quite what I’m used to.’

  ‘I mean,’ she said, ‘listen to this shit. How we meant to dance to this?’ She jerked her body as if dancing to some imaginary dance track. Weirdly, she made it somehow fit with the music. The boy and I laughed.

  ‘How did you guys end up here?’ I said.

  ‘That Jay Swift – you know, the one off the telly,’ the boy said.

  The one I’d recognised. ‘You know him?’

  ‘No. We were just, you know, hanging out in the park and he came over - said he knew a party where we’d get free gear. Never say no to free gear, that’s my motto.’

  ‘He had a bus and everything,’ the girl said. ‘You should come in the garden –more lively than here.’

  ‘I’m with someone.’ I looked across at Jack. He still had his arm around Lill. His hand moved up and down her side, caressing her. He laughed at something and she leaned her head on his shoulder.

  ‘What, him?’

  I nodded.

  The girl looked from Jack to me and back again. ‘Right.’ She took my arm. ‘Come on. Let’s get something to cheer you up.’

  The garden was the size of a football pitch, surrounded by a ten-foot high stone wall. Neat beds of hyacinths and daffodils edged a boring rectangle of grass. Wooden trestle tables were dotted about like a pub beer garden. Each table had a heated parasol above it. None of the posh guests were out there, only the other kids from the minibus. They sat around the table nearest the house, two boys and a girl.

  They bunched up on the benches to make room for us and we all sat down. Someone passed around a bottle of vodka. I swigged some. It tasted foul, went down the wrong way, and made me cough. They all laughed. Someone passed me a spliff. I didn’t want to look even more of a dork so I pulled on it, held the smoke in my mouth for a bit and blew it out. I was sure I looked ridiculous, but no one seemed to notice. They were more interested in the stuff they’d been given than in me.

  The red-haired boy handed pills around the table. ‘Not sure what they are, but worth a pop.’

  One guy looked more serious than the others. Dark hair flopped over one eye and half of his face. He examined his tablet, turned it over and over in his hand and sniffed it. ‘You sure these’re kosher, Matt?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Matt waved a dismissive hand. ‘Everything in here’s kosher.’

  ‘Dyl,’ pierced girl said. ‘Stop askin’ questions and just take it.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dyl said. ‘I mean, why would they give us free stuff? Why would they even want us here? I don’t get it.’

  ‘Look,’ Matt said, ‘if you don’t want the gear, go home. All the more for us.’

  Dyl frowned, looked up at the wall. ‘They got barbed wire up there.’

  Everyone looked up. Sure enough, rows of barbed wire lined the top of the wall.

  ‘Yeah,’ Matt said. ‘To stop fuckin’ burglars, dickhead.’

  ‘Then why’s it hanging over this side?’

  ‘I’d better find my boyfriend,’ I said.

  ‘Good luck with that,’ pierced girl said. She and the red-haired boy exchanged a smirk.

  The space by the fireplace was empty. I scanned the room as I walked through. On one of the sofas sat a grey-haired, overweight man with a drinker’s nose, red and swollen. A girl - who looked quite a bit younger than me - sat on his lap, her full-length sapphire dress cut to the navel, skirt slashed to the thigh. The guy put a knobbly hand on her leg. His red, gnarled hand stood out against her pale, childish skin as he slid it up inside her dress. I went out into the hall. Lill was there with Nico and Dan but no sign of Jack. I checked the empty cloakroom, went through another door into a room where a group of people sat in rows and listened to a young woman play the piano. They clapped politely when she finished. None of them looked like Jack.

  I went downstairs to the huge kitchens. They stood empty and deserted. Everything was stainless steel - cookers, work surfaces, cupboards – like an industrial kitchen but there was
no smell of cooking. A door at the far end stood ajar. Low voices and a chuckle came from the gap. I peeped through. A boy and an old man stood close together, both in dinner jackets, their backs to me, their heads bowed over a computer, watching something I couldn’t see. I tiptoed away, holding my breath and went back to the ground floor.

  The only room left was the one nearest the entrance. Its door had been shut when we came in and still was. I sauntered over to it, pretending to look at the paintings, trying to look inconspicuous. I leaned against the door as if I was bored and tried the handle behind my back. Nothing. I turned sideways on and pushed against it with my hip. Rock solid. Unless Jack had locked himself in there, he could only be upstairs.

  The people who had been standing on the staircase earlier had gone and only three people were still in the hallway. They wandered into the long room, so I put a hand on the white-painted balustrade and trod on the first step. My feet sank into the thick-pile carpet. I checked behind me but no one appeared so I continued up. The stairs curved at the top, ending in a small landing with three doors off, all of them closed. I hesitated, wondering which one to choose. A muffled cry came from the door to my right and blood banged in my ears. My first thought was Jack, that they could be killing him. I turned the handle, silently and slowly, and nudged the door. It opened onto a long, dark corridor with doors on either side. I crept along it, holding my breath, my tread silent on the plush carpet, my ears straining for any sound. Silence. Everything was black - carpet, walls and ceiling - matt black that sucked away the light. The door to the landing swung shut behind me and I was plunged into utter darkness - stifling, disorientating blackness. I could no longer see where the walls or doors were. I put one hand out until it touched the wall on my left and then felt my way forward. There could have been anything in front of me, a staircase, a hole in the floor, anything. My fingers felt a change from wall to wood – a doorframe. I felt along it and pressed my ear against the wood - nothing. The same thing happened at the next two doors. Although my eyes should have adjusted to the lack of light, I could still see nothing and began to panic, imagining all kinds of monsters ahead of me. I decided to go back. The muffled cry must have been a noise from downstairs. Then it came again, a definite moan. The sound came from the other side of the corridor. I remembered the passage hadn’t been wide but it scared me to leave the safety of the wall. I put one tentative foot in front of the other, hands out in front of me, until I touched the other side. Then I felt my way along to the door and put my ear against it. Low moans, hushed voices, groans. I put my hand on the door handle.

  Bright, fluorescent light lit up the corridor and a hand gripped the back of my neck and forced my face against the wall. ‘What you doing?’ Lill said. ‘Snooping about where you don’t belong.’

  I cried out as she pulled my right arm up behind my back. Stinging pain shot through my shoulder. ‘I . . . I was looking for Jack.’

  The door opened a crack. Dan grinned. He called over his shoulder, ‘Hey, Jacko, your missus has found you.’

  Jack shoved him aside and pushed Lill away from me.

  Her back slammed against the wall. ‘You bastard.’ She pulled him around to face her and slapped his face with a crack that echoed around the corridor.

  Jack’s jaw clenched, his eyes took on that hard glint I’d seen before.

  Lill seemed shocked by what she’d done. She stared at him, eyes wide, mouth open, breath coming in short bursts. ‘Sorry. I . . .’

  ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ Jack said.

  Lill’s face paled. ‘Look, I’m sorry. It’s just . . .’

  Her eyes pleaded with Nico, who shrugged. ‘Nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Dan,’ she said. Dan turned his back and returned to the room.

  Jack smiled, cold, mocking.

  ‘Why not let Pearl come in, Jack,’ Nico said.

  ‘No.’ Jack didn’t shift his gaze from Lill.

  A deep, roaring crash filled the corridor. It reverberated and shimmered, rolled and rumbled like thunder and they all headed for the stairs like automatons.

  Jack held me back. He held a finger to his lips, his eyes watching the others. ‘We can’t go where they go, okay? We have to leave.’

  ‘Okay.’ I followed him down the corridor back to the landing, struggling to keep up with his long strides. ‘What was that noise?’

  ‘The gong. Time for the sabbat. The sun’s gone down.’

  By the time we reached the landing, the hall below was thronged with people. We looked down on them as they filed into the previously locked room. They laughed and chatted, and drank their red drinks. A tighter group moved through them, hulking, musclebound guys surrounding a group of smaller people. I recognised the kids from the garden. The ‘guards’ herded them towards the doorway.

  I turned to Jack. ‘They’re . . .’

  ‘Shh.’ He held me back from the bannister, out of the light.

  Dyl, his eyes huge, panicked, turned against the flow of people. ‘Look,’ he said to the nearest guard, ‘thanks, but . . .’ He tried to push back from the door. ‘Will you just . . .’ He tried to fight his way through the people pressing behind him. The guard picked him up and carried him inside the room.

  We crept halfway down the stairs and stopped. From our vantage point, we had a clear view through the door of the room. A flight of steps led down to a basement auditorium. People sat in rows on chairs, red and gold, like theatre seats. Scores of black candles burned in sconces on the deep red walls. At the far end of the room was a stage with a red velvet curtain pulled across it. From where we stood, I could see over the curtain to a stone altar beyond, prepared as if for a church service. Above the altar hung an inverted cross – and on the cross . . .

  ‘Oh, my God! God!’ My knees gave out. I clung to the bannister and closed my eyes. A body hung on the cross – upside down, its throat cut, the blood still dripping – drip, drip, drip onto the stone altar. Above the chatter of the audience, I imagined I heard it splash onto the stone, over and over.

  ‘Come on.’ Jack took my elbow. ‘Come on.’

  ‘I can’t.’ I was paralysed with horror – mind and body numb.

  ‘Pearl.’ He dragged me down the stairs.

  My feet were slow, tripping over the steps, almost falling.

  Somehow, we reached the front door. It opened and cold, fresh sea air blew over my face, woke me from my stupor.

  Then a hand smacked against the door, slammed it shut.

  ‘Where you going?’ Nico raised his eyebrows. ‘Surely you’re not trying to miss the party?’

  ‘Get out of my way,’ Jack said.

  Nico didn’t move, but his eyes were wary. He looked back into the hallway. Everyone was already in the room. Just him, Lill, Jack and me – two against two.

  Jack smiled – an evil smile. ‘Going to take me on, Nico – really?’

  Nico hesitated.

  ‘Go on,’ Lill said. ‘I’ll take the girl.’

  Jack laughed. ‘You won’t touch her.’

  ‘She’s your target, not your fucking girlfriend,’ Lill said, eyes sparking.

  ‘She’s not my target any more,’ Jack said. ‘You are.’

  Lill’s smile faltered. ‘That’s a joke, right?’

  ‘No joke,’ Jack said.

  ‘Fine,’ Lill stepped back. ‘Then you’d better watch her every moment, because I’m coming to get her.’

  ‘You do and I’ll kill you – fact.’

  ‘You can’t protect her forever, Jack,’ Nico said. ‘Lill will find her. You know she will.’

  ‘And when she does,’ Jack said, ‘I’ll be waiting for her.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  We ran across the gravel and turned right down the road. Jack pulled me along so fast I had trouble staying upright. He stopped near the promenade and crouched down beside a car. I leaned forwards, tried to get air back into my lungs. And then it happened. It started as a tremor and a stifled warble at the back of my throat
and then, like vomit, it spewed out, unstoppable - a scream that went on and on.

  Jack jumped to his feet. ‘Stop it! Shut up. You’ll have the police on us.’

  But I couldn’t shut up. I stamped my feet, waved my arms, wordlessly pleading with him to do something, to help me. He grabbed me tightly, told me it was okay and I screamed even more. A few people turned to look. Some hurried away but a group of lads stood watching, even laughed, as if we were some kind of street theatre. Then Jack slapped me, just like in a film, right across the face and one of the lads cheered. Jack bundled me into the car. He did my seatbelt up, got in the driver’s side without saying a word, started the engine and pulled out into the road like an idiot, like a boy racer, squealing tyres, the lot. The group of lads scattered out of his way as he skidded past them.

  Once we reached the outskirts of the town, he slowed down a little and looked over. ‘You okay now?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you. I couldn’t . . .’

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  ‘Can we call the police?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Please – I’m frightened.’ Tears ran down my cheeks. ‘Jack.’

  He pulled off the road and stopped the car. He took my face in his hands. ‘Listen, the police are in with them.’

  I tried to shake my head but he held it fast.

  ‘The guy on the sofa with the underage girl?’

  I tried to think.

  ‘Blue dress – what there was of it?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Chief commissioner.’ He sat back in his seat. ‘Papa has them all, all the high-rankers. It’s what Papa does. Finds out their ‘predilections’ as he calls them, gives them what they want, records it, films it.’

  ‘We could tell my uncle. He’s a detective. He’s not corrupt.’

  ‘You want him dead?’

  I shook my head.

  He drove fast but not fast enough for me. I wanted to fly home, forget it all, but I just couldn’t get Dyl’s terrified face out of my head.