Majorca Flats -- 321

Inside, Lucasta Ellesmere was awake, looking a bit groggy.

“My dear, I found your note how interesting I didn't expect you back for ages and ages such a big place to go looking.�? She glanced sharply at Cody, whose eyes were red and who was still hiccuping and gasping. She was too well mannered to force an introduction but Jason saw the look and said, “Gran, this is Cody. He's … ,�? he paused for a moment, “ … a friend of ours. Cody, this is my gran, Lucasta Ellesmere.�?

“Delighted I'm sure, Cody,�? said Lucasta, “always a pleasure to meet Jason's friends and he seems to have made so many here in Australia such a friendly place so quickly though he's always had that capability you know even at school he had so many friends especially at a time like this.�? She looked triumphantly at everyone when she'd finished this speech. Cody stared back, bewildered. It was all too much. Seeing his discombobulation, Jason turned to Eleanor and said, “Tea, do you think?�?

“Quite,�? she replied. “And some food. Sandwiches would be just the thing. Have you eaten, Cody?�? Her voice was calm and sensible and unjudgemental.

Cody shook his head, unable to speak in the face of such disinterested kindness. But would they still like him if they knew what he was, what he'd done, and what had happened to him?

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Majorca Flats -- 320

From Troy Caperton's blog

“Don't!" said Jason into Cody's ear, as his tears flowed even faster. “You're with friends, now."  He pulled him closer, his arms firm and comforting.

“Come inside, everyone. This calls for more tea. What an exciting day we're having." Eleanor didn't know quite how to deal with this stranger's weeping.

“I'll just phone Lou," said Keith.

Cody shook his head.

“What? He loves ya! He's worried silly about ya!"

“It's just … I … I don't deserve him. I …. oh, God! It's been horrible!" Cody ground out been hiccups and sobs.

“Come on," said Jason very gently, treating him as if he were a small boy, not a grown man, as if he himself were still a prefect at school. “Let's go inside."

They crossed back across the road.

As the door closed behind them, a kombi roared up the road towards the high street.

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Majorca Flats -- 319

Cody looked at Jason with wonder. “Yes, I am Cody. But … ,�? suspicion replaced wonder, “ … how did you know? Who are you?�?

“Oh! I'm Jason. I'm a friend of Lou's. You are Luigi's Cody, aren't you?�?

“Yes, but … how … what's going on?�? Into his mind came the memory that Luigi had mentioned Jason that morning, when they'd stopped at the service station on the freeway. He felt a spike of anger, but it was quickly replaced by indifference. He shrugged.

“Lou just phoned, ten minutes ago. He was worried sick about you. He said he'd gone round to your house and … your wife ...�? Here Jason faltered. He turned to the car, “Hey, we've found Cody! This is Cody!�?

Keith opened the car door and stood in the doorway space. “What? Ya sure, mite?�?

Eleanor opened her door and Jason crossed the road to help her out. He took hold of Cody's hand to take him with him. Cody felt again the comfort of another human being's warmth, of the contact of skin against skin, and it broke through the cold reserve he'd been building around his heart. He started to cry.

Jason pulled him close. “It's over now, mate,�? he murmured, forgetting to be English just for that moment. “You're safe. He'll never get you. We'll look after you. You'll be OK.
Cody, meet my friends Keith and Eleanor Cumberledge.�?

“Welcome to Majorca Flats, Cody,�? said Eleanor, wondering how her life had managed to become so full of incident and people so quickly. Before Jason had turned up, she'd often been lonely. Now, not only was he around, but his friends were too. With a brief stab of sorrow she remembered that if she'd done things differently, she'd have had Bart and all his friends. His husband, maybe. Grandchildren. She shook her head to clear it of these unwelcome recollections.

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Majorca Flats -- 318

Cody had started to walk, without purpose, slowly plodding along the road. He heard the VW engine again and instinctively turned to face the houses, pretending to examine the flowers in a rose bush which clambered over a picket fence. The Kombi's engine geared down, for the corner, but Cody didn't know that. He panicked and ran back the way he'd come.

He ran full tilt into the blond man's arms.

“Lemme go!�? he cried. “Please let me go! He's …. I'm … Oh God!�?

“You all right?�? The blond man tightened his arms round Cody. “It's OK. You're safe with me.�?

Cody started to weep.

The blond man was speaking. At first, it made no sense at all to Cody. “Look, I know this is probably a really, really stupid question, but … your name isn't by any chance Cody, is it? Only, it's just that …. no. It's a stupid question! Sorry.�?

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Majorca Flats -- 317

As they drove up the street towards the main road, Jason felt an obscure feeling nag at him.

“Key,�? he said. “Just stop for a second.�?

“Why?�?

“I … have a bad feeling about that guy there on the pavement.�?

“We don't have a lot of time,�? said Keith, not slowing at all.

“Key …. It'll only take a minute. You can turn here before the end of the road. Go on, Key love, I really feel very weird about it.�?

Keith kept going.

“Keith!�?

“Oh, all rightthen!�? Ungraciously, Keith swerved over to the side of the road, narrowly missing a woman on a bike, who gave him the finger and shouted at him before wobbling off.

As he put on his indicator to turn right out into the traffic, a Kombi passed the other way, its engine straining as it accelerated down the road towards the far corner.

“I've seen that bloke before,�? remarked Eleanor. “He shouldn’t drive so fast down this street. It's not a racetrack!�?

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Majorca Flats -- 316

Bugger!

He'd left the door to garage open. His special room was well concealed, but only if the bookcase door was closed. There was the real door into the garage, and over it second door made to look like a bookcase and shelves. It wasn't just pretend books but a real bookcase, hinged on one side and weighted so it fell back against the wall when it was closed. And he'd left it open, unlocked! How stupid! Maybe no one would come into the house but maybe they were already watching him. He had to get back.

He'd learnt how to do carpentry at the Home. Father McAlister had taught him. The Watcher was proud of his skills. He had kitted out the Kombi so he could reward some of the boys from the Home by taking them camping.

He flipped on the indicator and waited until the road was clear so he could make a u-turn. A tram trundled past, and then there was a string of cars. Come on! he thought. By all the Saints, hurry up! I must get back to close that door.

His stomach churned and he felt acid surge up his oesophagus. He would have some Rennies when he got home. After he had closed that door.

He heard God speaking, with Father McAlister's Irish lilt. “Failure,�? He said. “Failure!�?

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Majorca Flats -- 315

 “Excuse me, we need to get into the car.�?

Cody looked up at the speaker. He was a good-looking blond, with the build of a sportsman, narrow waist, broad shoulders, his eyes sky-blue. He'd spoken with an English accent. He had a kind face. Help me, Cody wanted to say. Please help me. But … he was on his own, now. No one would help him.

“No worries, mate,�? Cody said. He tried to stand up, but it was a struggle. The man reached out his hand, and helped him. His hand was big and warm and strong. It felt good to hold it, to have the connection. Once again, Cody was tempted to speak. But he resisted it. How many times could an unexpected saviour appear? Once was miraculous. Twice …. impossible.

He watched in despair as the blond bloke, another man, and an old lady got into the car and drove away.

Image from Masterfile

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