Home by Cailean Steed

Author:Cailean Steed [Steed, Cailean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
Published: 2022-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

28

NOW

I have prepared carefully for this moment. It is not going to be easy to pull off, partly because I don’t think I’m a particularly convincing actor, but mainly because as soon as I start, I am going to want to punch myself very hard in the face.

I need an explanation for where I’ve been all this time. And I need to play it carefully. I’m not going back to the Atonement Room, not for anything, but I can’t just leave either. Angela is my only hope of getting anywhere near Amy. So I need to avoid punishment, and I need access to the Fruitfulness Hall again.

It’s late when I slip out of Angela’s room, leaving her in a fitful sleep behind me, and creep downstairs and out the main door. The building is quiet, and I don’t see anyone. But behind closed doors, I hear babies crying.

Outside, it’s pitch-black. The paths between buildings aren’t lit, because once dinner time is over, you’re supposed to go back to the dormitories and stay there for the rest of the night. So I have to wait for my eyes to adjust to the weak light from the moon before I can pick my way back towards the women’s dormitories.

I take the long way there – behind the Men’s Quarters and the Warrior Barracks – so that I can leave the path and get into the woods. I roll about on the ground, making sure to get leaves and twigs and stuff all over my dress and in my hair. I dig my fingers into the earth, then rake them backwards and forwards until I feel a sharp pain under my nails. I gather up a handful of mud and rub it down one side of my face.

The next part is a little harder. I pat about on the ground until I find a good-sized stone, then I take a deep breath, count to three, and bring it down sharply against my cheekbone. The pain bites into my skull, radiates down my jaw. I gingerly feel the spot I’ve hit. It smarts, but not enough. Again.

This plan rests almost entirely on me looking pathetic and vulnerable. I need to appear weak. I am relying heavily on the Sisters’ reaction to that, counting on them responding to me in the way that predators do to sick or injured animals on the periphery of a flock.

Sometimes I wonder how conscious it all is for them. The cruelty. The intimidation and gaslighting and constant social pressure. I read a few books about cults, back in Dublin. I hadn’t initially gone looking for books on the subject, but one afternoon I’d been unpacking boxes of books – recently picked up by Meg from a family donating their deceased father’s library – when a title caught my eye.

‘A professor of sociology,’ Meg said, dumping the last box of books on the limited floor space in the staff room, and rising to stretch her arms out. ‘Lot of dry stuff, I’d imagine, but see if you can fish out anything good.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.