The Girl in White by John Nicholl

Author:John Nicholl [Nicholl, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2019-09-03T16:00:00+00:00

12

The heat of the early summer sun was replaced by constant drizzle seven days after Harry’s enforced arrival at the compound. It swept in from the south in sheets, soaking everything in its path, as Baptist led Harry towards the community’s communal meeting room, located in an area of mature trees behind the men’s shared sleeping quarters.

It seemed all the members of the community were ready and waiting, seated in neat rows and facing a stage, as the big man opened the double doors and shoved Harry into the room, making him trip and lose his balance. But waiting for what? That’s what Harry asked himself when he’d regained his footing. He didn’t have the slightest clue. But it wouldn’t be good. Of that, he was sure. Nothing about the community was ever good. Or at least nothing he’d seen or heard so far. Hopefully, some other poor sod wasn’t about to get a beating. That would be far too much to bear.

Harry had never wanted a tablet more as he glanced around the room. The need for a mind-levelling chemical hit was eating away at him, the longing dominating and overwhelming almost every thought in his head. He’d pleaded, he’d begged, but with no positive result. Baptist didn’t want to hear his appeals, however emotional, however earnest or heartfelt. The big man had just given that same infuriatingly predictable reply with a blank look on his bearded face: ‘Have faith, newbie. How many times do I have to tell you? God is all the medicine you need.’ Baptist had said it, and he’d repeated it, time and again until Harry almost believed it himself. But if God was to ease his suffering, it hadn’t happened yet. Harry’s mind was flooded with self-doubt as he looked around him, a negative wave of dark thoughts that further sapped his flagging morale, a black dog of depression beating him down a little further.

Cold turkey was agonising, horrific, the worst thing in the world. Maybe I’m not praying hard enough. Perhaps my faith isn’t strong enough. That’s what Baptist had claimed, oh so insistently, before slapping him, before knocking him to the floor and pinning him there as he’d struggled to free himself to no avail. Whatever the cause of his escalating suffering, it seemed it was his fault and his alone. He’d brought it on himself. It was no more than he deserved. The big man had driven it home. Shouted it up close, warm spittle spraying from his mouth, impossible to ignore. He had to learn to trust in God’s good grace. Do that, that one simple thing and all would be sweetness and light. Would it? Really? Would it? Or would his life continue to disintegrate? That seemed far more likely.

Harry stood in trepidation, mind still racing, lungs expanded, and pupils enlarged, attention intensely focussed on his own survival. He noticed that he was sweating despite the cooler temperature and damp patches were forming under both his arms. Harry didn’t

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