Dreams of Leaving by Rupert Thomson Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rupert Thomson
with blank faces and nervous hands for his release. Even more disturbing, perhaps, PC Fox reported the existence of âa number of wreaths and assorted bunches of flowersâ on Tommy Daneâs grave in the churchyard. The story of that desperate bid for freedom in the forties had been revived and was being retold in graphic and inflammatory detail through the village. They were witnessing, Fox suggested, the first stirrings of a Tommy Dane cult.
Once again Peach reacted with speed and efficiency. He imposed a curfew. Anybody found on the streets of New Egypt after nine p.m. would be arrested immediately. The offender would be liable to the severestpenalties. Peach called an emergency meeting in the church hall to explain his decision. He had introduced the curfew, he maintained, in order to safeguard âour futureâ, the children of the village.
âWe cannot risk another tragedy,â he declared in his most sombre voice.
George wasnât fooled.
Two days later the discovery of the white toy dog beside the river became common knowledge and people began to talk of a drowning. George smiled to himself at this shift in public opinion. Rumours of escape were dangerous, subversive. Rumours of death, on the other hand, were quite harmless and acceptable. Peach must have leaked the information with that specific end in mind. George shook his head. How gullible, how fickle people were. How shrewd Peach was.
At the beginning of July a heatwave hit the area. The sky burned white and the clouds hissed like steam. The sun beat down on the drum of the land. People retreated indoors complaining of headaches. Volunteers for the search-parties dwindled. The gossip withered and died away. Now everybody had forgotten about him â even his mother and his sister had given up their vigil â Dinwoodie was quietly released. As apathy descended with a vengeance on the population, so the pressure on the police department began to lift â a perfect example of what Peach liked to call
the scissor effect.
The grass on the village green turned brown. The leaves on the trees were so dry that they clicked as if they too were made of wood. Rain became a memory. Peach declared a drought. He issued a comprehensive list of instructions pertaining to the use of water: no washing of cars, no lawn sprinklers, no baths. Now people really had something to moan about, something nice and trivial. The search-parties continued, consisting entirely of police officers. Lines of sweat-drenched uniforms could be seen combing the long grasses and the bramble-patches in the vicinity of the river. Peach ordered Dolphin, a powerful swimmer, to drag several hundred feet of the river-bed. No new clues turned up. No fresh evidence. One white toy dog. That was all that remained of Moses Highness. It was a strange time to talk of a drowning but no other conclusion could be drawn.
Towards the middle of the month, almost five weeks after Mosesâs disappearance, George was summoned to Peachâs office, alone this time. A far less combative, far wearier meeting. One look at Peachâs face and George guessed.
âNothing new, then.â
âNothing new,â Peach admitted. âWeâve tried everything, exhausted every possibility.â He sighed. âI can only conclude that Moses, your boy, drowned in the river. We shall never know exactly how.â
George hung his head for an appropriate length of time. When he lookedup, the necessary tears filled his eyes. âThereâs really no hope?â
âIâm afraid not.â
âOf course I knew there was a possibility that Moses might have, might have drowned. I just never â â His voice faltered and he looked away. His acting had definitely improved.
âWell,â Peach said, âIâm making it official, as from today,â and he consulted his calendar, âJuly the fourteenth. We canât have any loose ends, you understand. Not in
Once again Peach reacted with speed and efficiency. He imposed a curfew. Anybody found on the streets of New Egypt after nine p.m. would be arrested immediately. The offender would be liable to the severestpenalties. Peach called an emergency meeting in the church hall to explain his decision. He had introduced the curfew, he maintained, in order to safeguard âour futureâ, the children of the village.
âWe cannot risk another tragedy,â he declared in his most sombre voice.
George wasnât fooled.
Two days later the discovery of the white toy dog beside the river became common knowledge and people began to talk of a drowning. George smiled to himself at this shift in public opinion. Rumours of escape were dangerous, subversive. Rumours of death, on the other hand, were quite harmless and acceptable. Peach must have leaked the information with that specific end in mind. George shook his head. How gullible, how fickle people were. How shrewd Peach was.
At the beginning of July a heatwave hit the area. The sky burned white and the clouds hissed like steam. The sun beat down on the drum of the land. People retreated indoors complaining of headaches. Volunteers for the search-parties dwindled. The gossip withered and died away. Now everybody had forgotten about him â even his mother and his sister had given up their vigil â Dinwoodie was quietly released. As apathy descended with a vengeance on the population, so the pressure on the police department began to lift â a perfect example of what Peach liked to call
the scissor effect.
The grass on the village green turned brown. The leaves on the trees were so dry that they clicked as if they too were made of wood. Rain became a memory. Peach declared a drought. He issued a comprehensive list of instructions pertaining to the use of water: no washing of cars, no lawn sprinklers, no baths. Now people really had something to moan about, something nice and trivial. The search-parties continued, consisting entirely of police officers. Lines of sweat-drenched uniforms could be seen combing the long grasses and the bramble-patches in the vicinity of the river. Peach ordered Dolphin, a powerful swimmer, to drag several hundred feet of the river-bed. No new clues turned up. No fresh evidence. One white toy dog. That was all that remained of Moses Highness. It was a strange time to talk of a drowning but no other conclusion could be drawn.
Towards the middle of the month, almost five weeks after Mosesâs disappearance, George was summoned to Peachâs office, alone this time. A far less combative, far wearier meeting. One look at Peachâs face and George guessed.
âNothing new, then.â
âNothing new,â Peach admitted. âWeâve tried everything, exhausted every possibility.â He sighed. âI can only conclude that Moses, your boy, drowned in the river. We shall never know exactly how.â
George hung his head for an appropriate length of time. When he lookedup, the necessary tears filled his eyes. âThereâs really no hope?â
âIâm afraid not.â
âOf course I knew there was a possibility that Moses might have, might have drowned. I just never â â His voice faltered and he looked away. His acting had definitely improved.
âWell,â Peach said, âIâm making it official, as from today,â and he consulted his calendar, âJuly the fourteenth. We canât have any loose ends, you understand. Not in