Phil Rickman - Remains of an Altar

Merrily felt numb, isolated. Cored by outrage and horror. Also, starved of light, starved of knowledge. A spectator who didn’t even understand the game.

When she went back, the atmosphere in the cellar was tight with a stripped-down harshness. Syd Spicer’s sleeves were rolled up.

The Reverend S. D. Spicer. Try to imagine him celebrating communion, visiting the sick, organizing a donkey for the church nativity play.

‘The gullet,’ he was saying, nodding. ‘Yeah, that makes sense. I should’ve thought of that.’

Syd and Hugo were sitting on upturned crates. Hugo looked up when Merrily came in, then looked away. Merrily noticed a new bruise just below his left eye. But, more than that, he looked emotionally beaten, dulled by defeat. He sniffed occasionally, his eyes watering, his thin face bony in the purply fluorescence. Resentment there, and self-pity. The sullen ugliness of corrupted youth.

She looked at Syd, at his still, small eyes.

The gullet .

‘Hugo is on his gap year, Merrily,’ Syd said. ‘He was going to spend it with the West Malvern Hunt, but of course the ban put a stop to that. They’re not even doing drag hunts, Hugo?’

‘What’s the point of that?’ Hugo said. ‘It’s a joke.’

‘A lot of disappointment in your family, then.’

Hugo snorted.

‘And a lot of rage,’ Syd said. ‘To understand this, you need to understand the rage, the way it ferments. The ingredients. Remember when the MP for Worcester was in the forefront of the campaign for a total ban? Must’ve seemed like a betrayal from within.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Betrayal upon betrayal. The hunting ban was just the final insult. Years before that they’d killed your grandfather, turned your dad’s life around. The government. The EC. The way the farmers in every other European country seemed to ignore the new rules, but Britain’s farmers got away with nothing . And then the great plagues: Mad Cow Disease and the ban on exports. Foot and Mouth. When the countryside smelled of smoke and burning flesh.’

‘It’ll never be the same,’ Hugo said. ‘We built this country. We made it what it was, and now they’ve giving it all away to the scum. Eating their cheap foreign meat from supermarkets owned by foreigners.’

‘And the one law they pass that isn’t crawling up the Euro-arse, it’s a ban on hunting. They’ll be coming for your guns soon. Land of hope and glory. Mother of the free.’

‘Joke.’

Syd said, ‘You know, sometimes – thinking back to the Regiment – it was hard to work out who you were fighting for. Had to come down to values in the end. You start thinking you’re doing it for Blair and Brown, it don’t work at all . Luckily, we still got Her Maj.’ Syd smiled. ‘Obviously it’s worse for an old family. Came with the Conquest, the Devereauxs? 1066?’

‘Bit later.’

‘Good long time, though. Longer than the Windsors. A long and glorious history going down the pan.’

‘We’re not the only ones.’

‘No, I appreciate that,’ Syd said. ‘Difficult times in Old England. Tell me about Wicklow.’

‘Came to my father for a job.’

‘ Did he? Cheeky.’

‘It was a bit like … close to blackmail. Thought he was clever, but he didn’t know anything really. Thought he was hard and we were middle-class and soft. They don’t know what hard is.’

‘The city boys?’

‘Strip off all the bling and boasting, take their guns away, they’re weak. Thick as shit. It’s why they always get caught. You don’t need scum like that.’

‘And was I right?’ Syd said. ‘You waited for him in the cave.’

‘No, he was using the cave. Dealing out of there. Thought that was smart. We waited for him to come out of the cave. We were in the trees then the rocks behind the cave.’

‘You and Louis.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Bang. Pro job.’

‘Then Louis sent the text to Khan.’

‘Text? What was that for?’

Hugo shut his mouth. Syd put his head on one side, looking sorrowful, his fingers flexing slightly. It was enough.

‘Louis had these lines about Druid sacrifice from an Elgar CD,’ Hugo said. ‘We put it in the text to Khan from Wicklow’s phone. Louis said it was like a warning of what he was taking on.’

‘Old England showing its teeth,’ Syd said. ‘How dare these lowlifes pollute the Malverns with their noxious substances. And the Elgar – that would also be why the police pulled Tim? Neat. Double whammy.’

‘Dad didn’t think so. He didn’t think it was cool doing him on the stone, either. He’s like, You don’t get flash. You don’t get cocky. And if it looks a bit intelligent the police can narrow it down right away . But Louis’d done it by then. And it did work. Nearly.’

‘But then someone else figured it out. Someone your ole man really did underestimate for a while.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Your dad know what you did to her tonight?’

Hugo stared at the stone flags.

‘Does now.’

‘He was here when you came back?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Mad?’

‘Pretty pissed off.’ Hugo’s head jerked forward. ‘He’d’ve wanted it done, though. He said he—’

‘Pissed off that you couldn’t handle it? Or that Louis made you go with him?’

‘Mainly…’ Hugo found a sickly smile. ‘Mainly, he was mad that Loste wasn’t in the Gullet.’

Merrily said, ‘The gullet?’

Syd ignored her. ‘So where’s he now, your old man? And Louis.’

‘Out there. He—’

‘Finishing the job?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Where?’

‘I don’t know.’

Syd tilted his head, put his hands on his knees as if he was about to get up. Terror bloomed in Hugo’s eyes. Merrily went cold.

‘I don’t know. Please! ’ Hugo rolled off his crate onto the flags, putting his hands up. ‘Honest to God!’

Syd stood up.

Hugo rolled away. He was weeping.

‘I’m locking you in, son.’ Syd stepped away from him. ‘At some stage, the police’ll be told where you are. When they arrive, I’d cooperate fully, if I were you.’

Hugo nodded, sagging, not trying to get up.

‘It’s completely finished, Hugo. But I’m guessing you knew that in Loste’s back room. There’s a point where you cross a barrier, and Louis led you right to the wire, and you didn’t go over. It’s a life you didn’t quite take, and you’ll be grateful for that.’

Hugo said nothing. Syd motioned to Merrily and followed her out of the door. The door was oak and reinforced and not very old. Syd tried various keys until one of them locked it.

‘I hope you didn’t want to pray with the boy, Merrily, but I’m afraid that would’ve conveyed the wrong message.’

‘Unlike hitting him again…’

‘Once. God forgive me, but experience suggested it needed underlining, or he might’ve thought he could get away with lies or half-truths. Intelligent lad, and he’d’ve been able to string the cops along. For a while. But we don’t have a while. We did the best we could. We hit on the weak link. That was the easy part. I suspect we’ve exhausted our quota of good fortune for one night.’

Merrily went ahead of Spicer up the stone steps into the manure-smelling back hall, with its coat hooks and its wellies, and waited for him by the door to the courtyard. She felt reduced and dirty and a long and twisted way from God.

‘What’s the gullet?’

Syd Spicer hung the bunch of keys on one of the coat hooks.

‘The Gullet is this deep pool, flooded quarry, up near the Beacon. People get drowned there sometimes. Kids thinking it’s safe for a swim on summer nights like this. Only it’s very, very cold.’