John Christopher - The Death of Grass

She said bitterly: “You’re the leader. Are you going to stand by and let people murder each other?”

He looked at her. His voice was cold. “I thought my life was worth more to you and the children than Millicent’s. I still think so, whether you agree or not.”

For the moment they faced each other in silence; then Ann came a step towards him, and he caught her. He heard her whisper:

“Darling, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean that. But it’s so terrible, and it goes on getting worse. To kill his wife like that… What kind of a life is it going to be for us?”

“When we get to Blind Gill…”

“We shall still have Pirrie with us, shan’t we? Oh, John, must we? Can’t we—lose him somehow?”

He said gently: “You’re worrying too much. Pirrie is law-abiding enough. I think he had hated Millicent for years. There’s been a lot of bloodshed recently, and I suppose it went to his head. It will be different in the valley. We shall have our own law and order. Pirrie will conform.”

“Will he?”

He stroked her arms. “You,” he said. “How is it now? Not quite so bad?”

She shook her head. “Not quite so bad. I suppose one gets used to everything, even memories.”

By seven o’clock they were all together, and ready to set out The clouds which had come over the sky still showed gaps of blue, but they had spread far enough to the east to hide the sun.

“Weather less promising,” Roger said.

“We don’t want it too hot,” John said. “We have a climb in front of us. Everything ready?”

Pirrie said: “I should like Jane to walk with me.”

They stared at him. The request was so odd as to be meaningless in itself. John had not thought it necessary to have the party walk in any particular order, with the result that they straggled along in whatever way they chose. Jane had automatically taken up her position alongside Olivia again.

John said: “Why?”

Pirrie gazed round the little circle with untroubled eyes. “Perhaps I should put it another way. I have decided that I should like to marry Jane—insofar as the expression has any meaning now.”

Olivia said, with a sharpness quite out of keeping with her usual manner: “Don’t be ridiculous. There can’t be any question of that.”

Pirrie said mildly: “I see no bar. Jane is an unmarried girl, and I am a widower.”

Jane, John saw, was looking at Pirrie with wide and intent eyes; it was impossible to read her expression.

Ann said: “Mr Pirrie, you killed Millicent last night Isn’t that enough bar?”

The boys were watching the scene in fascination; Mary turned her head away. It had been silly, John thought wearily, to imagine this world was a world in which any kind of innocence could be preserved.

“No,” Pirrie said, “I don’t regard it as a bar.”

Roger said: “You also killed Jane’s father.”

Pirrie nodded. “An unfortunate necessity. I’m sure Jane has resigned herself to that.”

John said: “I suggest we leave things over for now, Pirrie. Jane knows your mind. She can think about it for the next day or two.

“No.” Pirrie put out his hand. “Come here, Jane.”

Jane stood, still gazing at him. Olivia said:

“Leave her alone. You’re not to touch her. You’ve done enough, without adding this.”

Pirrie ignored her. He repeated: “Come here, Jane. I am not a young man, nor a particularly handsome one. But I can look after you, which is more than many young men could do in the present circumstances.”

Ann said: “Look after her—or murder her?”

“Millicent,” Pirrie said, “had been unfaithful to me a number of times, and was attempting to be so again. That is the only reason for her being dead.”

Incredulously, Ann said: “You speak as though women were another kind of creature—less than human.”

Pirrie said courteously: “I’m sorry if you think so. Jane! Come with me.”

They watched in silence as, slowly, Jane went over to where Pirrie waited for her. Pirrie took her hands in his. He said: “I think we shall get on very well together.”

Olivia said: “No, Jane—you mustn’t!”

“And now,” said Pirrie, “I think we can move off.”

“Roger, John,” Olivia said. “Stop him!”

Roger looked at John. John said: “I don’t think it’s anything to do with the rest of us.”

“What if it had been Mary?” Olivia said. “Jane has rights as much as any of us.”

“You’re wasting your time, Olivia,” John said. It’s a different world we’re living in. The girl went over to Pirrie of her own free will There’s nothing else to be said. Off we go now.”

Ann walked beside him as they set off, walking along the railway line. The valley narrowed sharply ahead of them, and the road, to the north, veered in towards them.

There’s something horrible about Pirrie,” Ann said. “A coldness and a brutality. It’s terrible to think of putting that young girl in his hands.”

“She did go to him voluntarily.”

“Because she was afraid! The man’s a killer.”

“We all are.”

“Not in the same way. You didn’t make any attempt to stop it, did you? You and Roger could have stopped him. It wasn’t like the business with Millicent You were only a couple of feet from him.”

“And he had the safety catch on. Either of us could have shot him.”

“Well?”

“If there had been ten Janes and he had wanted them all, he could have had them. Pirrie’s worth more to us than they would be.”

“And if it had been Mary—as Olivia said?”

“Pirrie would have shot me before he mentioned the matter. He could have done so last night, you know, and very easily. I may be the leader here, but we’re still kept together by mutual consent It doesn’t matter whether that consent is inspired by fear or not, as long as it holds. Pirrie and I are not going to frighten each other; we each know the other’s necessary. If either of us were put out of action, it might mean the difference between getting to the valley or not.”

She said intensely: “And when we get there—will you be prepared to deal with Pirrie then?”

“Wait till we get there. As to that—”

He smiled, and she noticed it. “What?”

“I don’t think Jane’s the kind of girl to remain afraid for long. She will shake herself out of it And when she does… I wouldn’t trust her on night watch—Pirrie proposes taking her to bed with him. It seems odd to think of Pirrie as being over trustful—all the same, he’s already been mistaken in one wife.”

“Even if she wanted to,” Ann said, “what could she do? He may not look much, but he’s strong.”

“That’s up to you and Olivia, isn’t it? You keep the cutlery items.”

She looked at him, trying to estimate how seriously the remark had been intended.

“But not until we get to the valley,” he said. “She will have to put up with him until then, at any rate.”

As they climbed up to Mossdale Head, the sky darkened continually, and gusts of rain swept in their faces. These increased as they neared the ridge, and they breasted it to see the western sky black and stormy over the rolling moors. They had four light plastic mackintoshes in the packs, which John told the women to put on. The boys would have to learn to contend with being wet; although the temperature was lower than it had been, the day was still reasonably warm.

The rain thickened as they walked on. Within half an hour, men and boys were both soaked. John had crossed the Pennines by this route before, but only by car. There had been a sense of isolation about the pass even then, a feeling of being in a country swept of life, despite the road and the railway line that hugged it.