Aleksey didn’t like having his plans thwarted. And particularly not by his own dogs. ‘Did you bring the leads?’
Ben had and undid them from where he’d tied them around his waist. He clipped them both on.
Then it became dogs versus man and dogs won. There was nothing Ben could do to get either animal onto the island.
Tim sighed. ‘I’ll stay here with them.’ He took the leads.
As soon as they were in his hands and not Ben’s, both animals took off. But in the opposite direction—back across the causeway. Tim held on tightly and shouted back over his shoulder, ‘Café! Don’t be too long!’ and then his legs sped up and sped up until he was jogging and then running and then sprinting.
Squeezy suddenly snorted and the three of them began to laugh, trying to suppress it, but tears beginning to appear. Ben mock-slapped across his friend’s head. ‘You shouldn’t laugh at him.’
‘Blah—it’s behind his back—he won’t fucking know. Come on—let’s go see this place of chaos and confusion.’
* * *
Chapter Twenty-One
Benhar Asylum for Children was possibly located in one of the most beautiful places in England, but could not be said to add to the islands’ charms. Built of granite, it was sombre and foreboding, and not a place that seemed suitable for any child to live in, let alone ones that deserved extra care. At both ends of the long front elevation were rusting fire escapes, and the whole thing so resembled the old warehouses in Exeter that Aleksey felt convinced he could smell the fetid canal. It was probably just the drains.
When they got to the top of the path, they discovered another fence and another sign warning them that they were trespassing and that the site was extremely hazardous.
When they’d squeezed past, they found themselves in the neglected grounds. Whether the soil which housed the few withered plants was natural, or had been transported here, was hard to tell, but the shrubs had not thrived either way. The contrast of this place with his island was so extreme that he commented on it to Ben, who was standing with his arms crossed, pondering a small area off to one side, which was fronted by a wrought-iron arch rising from a similarly constructed fence.
It was a tiny cemetery, as overgrown and uncared for as the rest of the grounds. Ben went closer, raising his gaze and reading the inscription around the arch. ‘“Be not afraid. You are worth more than many sparrows.” What the hell does that mean?’
Aleksey came to stand by his side. Other than deciding that he lovedhimmore than God, Ben appeared to have gotten very little out of his months of intense religious study. Suppressing his smirk, which he always did when similar moments occurred (his prohibition on poking or provoking the Almighty too often seemed entirely sensible to him), he replied dryly, ‘We are told that God apparently knows each sparrow that falls.’
Squeezy was squatting by a tiny moss-covered stone which was listing to one side, rubbing it clean with his thumb. He rose and said flatly, ‘Still lets them die though, don’t He?’
It was a desolate spot to lie for eternity un-mourned. Fitting in a way, Aleksey supposed. Unwanted in life, forgotten in death. Then it occurred to him that this was more likely only a memorial garden, and that no actual bodies would, could, be buried here, given the thin soil.
Ben blew out his cheeks and turned to face the building, their arms just brushing: familiar, steadying. After a moment, studying the façade, he murmured, ‘The windows are all barred. It’s more like juvie than a home.’
Squeezy poked his ribs. ‘You’d know, Diesel. How long did ya tell me you’d done again?’
Aleksey was about to question this, but Ben interjected quickly, ‘I was justthreatenedwith it—if I didn’t start attending school. I was never actually sent there.’
Aleksey frowned. ‘Oh. I was just going to ask what doesjuviemean.’
Ben laughed and ruffled his hair. ‘Never mind. Come on. Let’s see if we can get in.’
‘That a lighthouse or a machine-gun position? Cool if they could defend the place, like.’ They both stepped back a little so they could see what Squeezy was peering up at. There was a large box-like structure on the south end of the roof. If it had had windows, it would have possessed an almost magical view, but it appeared to be an entirely solid concrete box.
Aleksey liked both of the moron’s suggestions and was going to elaborate with a lie about preparations for the German invasion, but even he occasionally lost the thread of his own bullshit, so replied reluctantly, ‘More likely a water tank? We have an aquifer, which is why Light Island is so lush, but going by the soil here, this is just a rock. They would possibly have no natural fresh water.’ The two apparently found this as boring as he did and had wandered off mid-sentence to examine the door.
Not surprisingly, it was locked. Aleksey knew they could break in, but that seemed a bit extreme. Squeezy was eyeing it up, clearly thinking the same thing, when Ben suggested, ‘Maybe it’s got one of those thingies like we’ve got at Guillemot—for coal.’
This seemed possible, so they started to walk around in the shadow of the asylum. Built on two storeys, the upper windows must have given spectacular views across the ocean in all directions. There were two wings on either end of the building, so although it wasn’t vast, it could have housed a considerable number of children. Both these wings also had fire escapes, equally rusting as their companions at the front. When they came to the open area between the two annexes, formed by the flat U-shape of the construction, they found what they were looking for. Not a hatch in the ground, as in Guillemot, but a set of steps leading down to a cellar door. This too was locked, but it had flimsy hinges, was out of sight, and Ben had extremely sturdy shoulders. It was the work of a moment, almost an accidental lean really, and they were in.
It was the utility basement by the looks of it, hewn out of the rock. Old rusty boilers and a workbench led them through to another door, this to a set of steps ascending to yet another door at the top. When they shoved it open and stepped out, they were in the middle of an enormous corridor which stretched away on both sides.
They all pulled out their phones and clicked for illumination. Ben went up to the window directly in front of them and tugged lightly at the iron grid. It was solid. ‘Why put bars on a home for children?’ He clearly didn’t like this part of the discovery and seemed fixated on the issue. Aleksey imagined that for someone who still suffered from claustrophobia, the idea of being locked in the dark with bars on the windows would be concerning. The glass behind the bars was too filthy to let in much light and the sill between panes and the metal was littered with dead flies.
Squeezy was eyeing both directions thoughtfully and softly laid his hand on Aleksey’s arm, murmuring, ‘What did those ghosts look like again, boss? Just askin’, like.’
Aleksey shook him off, brushing his arm down, which only made Squeezy grin. He spun on his heel and began to shine his light along the walls. Ben gave Aleksey a lip quirk of apology and mimed wringing a neck. Aleksey snorted.
They turned left. The walls and floor were made of tiles, which might once have been green. Many were chipped and the floor was littered with broken furniture, drawers from filing cabinets, and paper. The place gave the appearance of being deserted a lot longer ago than the couple of years Arthur in the visitors’ centre had claimed.
