“Yes?” He looked at her sceptically, his eyes searching hers. “And how’s Sergey these days?”HOMECOMING “Fine. But I hardly see him. He lives his own life.” Sergey was her first husband. The father of her first child, Sasha. Ben and he did not get on at all.
“So why are you here?”
“To see you.”
He looked past her. “No surprise guests this time?”
She looked hurt “I thought...”
“What?”
“I thought we might try again. You and L” She looked down. Her hands still held his arms. Tve been thinking. Remembering things.” He waited. After a moment her head came up and her eyes met his again, a question in them now.
“You want me to take you to the bedroom and fuck your brains out, is that it?”
She grinned. “It might be a start Ifs been ages.”
“Almost five years, to be exact”
A little tremor went through her. “Well?”
He stared at her a moment, then pulled her closer, his hands sliding down her back until they rested on her buttocks, drawing her close in against him. “All right,” he said. “But no games this time, Catherine. I take you back, you stay, right?”
She smiled, then, placing her right hand about his neck drew him closer, kissing him deeply, passionately, while her left hand travelled down his chest until it lay upon his crotch.
For an instant he tensed, as if some final barrier yet remained between them, then, with a shudder, he gathered up the soft fabric of her dress and tugged down her briefs, his movements rough, brutal almost. Freeing himself, he pushed her back against the bench and entered her, thrusting up into her with such violence that she cried out But Catherine did not try to push him away. She clung to him desperately, matching each thrust with her own, bringing her legs right up so that they pressed against his chest as he fucked her, her eyes wide and wanton, the moaning sounds she made inflaming him, so that he came quickly, violently, his whole body going into spasm, as she too came with a great groan and a shudder.Later, snuggled up against him in the big double bed that had been his parents’ and his grandparents’ before that, she wondered how she could ever have left him. But then, that had been the pattern of their relationship, and doubtlessly she would leave him again despite what he said about her staying for good this time. He said it because he was hurting and in need. But when Meg came back ...
When Meg comes back things witt change. As they always did. For she’s his wife.
I know that now.
It would hurt. She knew it would. But let tomorrow take care of itself. For now she was happy to be with him once again. However long it lasted.
Commandant Schutz was angry. And when the Commandant was angry, someone usually got hurt He looked about him at the crowded duty-room, then brought his fist down hard on the desk.
“How dare they send him back! How dare they!”
The rumours had been circulating for weeks now. Rumours that had begun to border upon legend. And now the central figure in that legend was suddenly back here, in Schutz’s camp. The thought of what it might do to the carefully-established status quo was clearly too much for Schutz.
The cramped room was packed. Every last one of his senior officers was there, at Schutz’s bidding. Above the door a single screen seemed dark, as if switched off, but if one looked hard, one might discern the sleeping figure of the boy. From where he stood by the wall, to the left of the Commandant, Schutz’s second-in-command, Raditz, glanced at his fellow officers, then quietly asked:
“What if he were to have an accident?”
“An accident?” Schutz blinked, and looked up at him. “You mean, kill the little bastard?”
“In a manner of speaking ...”
Schutz snorted his derision. “And have the Man’s agents crawling all over the place? No. Start using your brain to think with, Raditz, not your arse! If the Man sent him back into the Camps, the Man had a reason. Killing him’s no answer. What we need is to get him transferred out of here. Personally, I don’t give a fuck what happens to the boy, I just don’t want him here, as my problem!” “Then maybe he could get sick. Real sick.”
Schutz seemed to like that better. He actually smiled. “I like that But how do we go about it?”
“Inject petroleum into his leg,” one of the senior guards suggested.
Schutz laughed. “You want to try and hold him down while we do that, Sergeant?” “I thought...” The Sergeant hesitated, then, “I thought maybe we could get one of the bosses to do it for us. You know...”
“That1 s right,” Raditz chipped in. “We could make it seem like it was all just part of our normal gang rivalry.”
“Excellent,” Schutz said, watching his man. “Now you’re thinking. Okay, work on it, Raditz. But make it quick. The last thing I want is a fucking hero in the camp.”
No, Raditz thought, still smarting from that earlier insult, the last thing a cock-sucker like you wants is to have a bright light shone on his practices! “I’ll get onto it straight away,” he said, coming to attention and saluting. “In fact, I’ll wake that little arse-lick Raeto right now and tell him we’ve a job for him!”
“Good. Then go to it I want that little shit out of here before he’s had a chance to shake things up. Remember, we’ve worked hard to get things the way they are. I don’t want any of that hard work ruined, you got me?” “I got you,” Raditz said.
“Then go. And Raditz?”
“Yes, Commandant”
“Make me a tape of it, huh?”
They were woken at dawn and, after a cold shower and the briefest of inspections, marched to the meal hall at double pace. Coming out of the tunnel into the brightness of the exercise yard, Daniel closed his eyes, lifting his face to sniff the air.
For three months he had been locked in a tiny cell, his only escape the daily walk down the narrow corridor to another, bigger room where, beneath glaringly bright lights, they beat him or tortured him or found new games to play with his head.
He had almost enjoyed the last, if only for the relief it gave from the physical side of things.
Daniel flicked his eyes open. He was near the front of the column of marching boys. Up ahead was a pair of double doors. As they approached, the doors swung back. Guards -their guns ostentatiously on display - flanked the doorway, three to each side. That, he knew, was not normal. That was for him, to remind him just who was in charge here.
Inside the hangar-like hall, the stench of cooking hit him like a foul miasma. Daniel made a face. “Nothing changes,” he said, and there was laughter where before there would have been none.
They were all watching him now. Taking their lead from him. He joined the queue, making no effort to push in as the other bosses did, patiently waiting his turn to take a tray, a bowl, a spoon and a cup, joining the slow shuffle towards the serving hatch.
They saw that, too, and whispered among themselves, surprised by Daniel’s behaviour and wondering what it meant, for they were used to displays of power and privilege, and Daniel, surely, was a power now. Slowly the queue diminished as the boys were served and made their way to the tables. Daniel was almost at the hatch when he heard a commotion at the door. He turned, seeing at once the source of the disturbance - a small but thick-set boy with a wide, lumpy head - heading straight for him, several “heavies” - their faces familiar from Daniel’s previous stay in the Camp - in tow. Raeto, he thought, knowing it even before the whispers about him confirmed his guess.
Raeto stopped a metre from him, scowling at him, staring at him as if he were a steaming pile of shit and not another boy. “They said you were bigger,” he said, a sneer in his voice.HOMECOMING Daniel stared at him, his face expressionless, taking in the cold blueness of Raeto’s eyes, the strange, almost waxy, smoothness of his skin, then turned away, facing the hatch again. Barely a second passed and then he was barged aside, as Raeto and his friends stepped in front of him. Usually they would have gone straight to the front of the queue and taken what they wanted from the trays. But today was different Today they were keen to make a point Daniel stood there, unmoving and unmoved, staring at the backs of their necks, dispassionately studying the blemishes in the pale flesh - the scabs and pustules that were the result of an unhealthy diet At least his session in debriefing had had that going for it - they had fed him well Daniel looked in at himself. His pulse had not changed. He was calm, his breathing normal. Inwardly he felt clear and still, like a cool, dark pool at the bottom of a deep, deep well.