Simon laughed. They exchanged an awkward shoulder-bump and backslap, but Luke stayed sitting on the wall, Si standing on the pavement.
‘I hear the Equal girls are hot,’ he said, elbowing Luke.
‘Got that on good authority, have you?’
‘Hey, at least you’ll get to see some girls. My Uncle Jim says all the workplaces are single sex at Millmoor, so the only women you hang out with are your own family. It’s a right dump, that place.’
Si spat expressively. ‘Jimmy got back from there a few weeks ago. We’ve not told anyone yet, because he’s not leaving the house and doesn’t want folk coming round. He’s a broken man. I mean, literally. He was in an accident and now his arm—’
Simon folded up one elbow and flapped his wrist. The effect was ridiculous, but Luke didn’t feel like laughing.
‘He got hit by a forklift or something. He’s not said much about it. In fact, he hardly says anything at all. He’s my da’s little brother but he looks about ten years older. Nah, I’m staying out of Millmoor as long as I can, and I reckon you’ve scored a right cushy number.’
Si looked up and down the street. Looked anywhere but at Luke.
His best friend had run out of things to say, Luke realized. They’d hung out together for nearly twelve years, playing, pranking and copying homework off each other since their first week at primary school. And all that ended here.
‘Don’t go thinking those Equals are folk like us,’ Si said, with one last effort at conversation. ‘They’re not. They’re freaks. I still remember our field trip to that parliament of theirs, that House of Light. The guide banging on about what a masterpiece it was, all built by Skill, but it gave me the creeps. You remember those windows? Dunno what was going on inside, but it didn’t look like “inside” any place I’ve ever seen. Yeah, you watch yourself. And that sister of yours.’
Si managed a half-hearted wink at Abi, and Luke cringed. His friend was a complete liability.
Luke wouldn’t see him for an entire decade.
Abi wouldn’t hear Si’s innuendo ever again, because he’d probably be married with kids by the time they all made it back to Manchester. He’d have a job. New friends. He’d be making his way in the world. Everything that made up Luke’s universe right now would be gone, fast-forwarded ten years, while Luke himself had stayed still.
The unfairness of it all made him suddenly, violently, furious and Luke smashed his hand down on the wall so hard he took the skin off his palm. As he yelped, Si finally looked at him, and Luke saw pity in his eyes.
‘Awright, then,’ Si said. ‘I’ll be off. You have a quick ten years.’
Luke watched him go, the last part of his old life, walking away round the corner and out of sight.
Then, because there was nothing else left to do, he went and joined his sisters, stretching out on the lawn in the sun. Daisy lolled against him, her head resting heavily on his ribs as he breathed in and out. He closed his eyes and listened to the noise of the TV from the house on the other side; the rumble of traffic from the main road; birdsong; Mum telling Dad that she wasn’t sure whether she’d packed enough sandwiches for the five-hour journey to Kyneston.
Something small crawled out of the grass and crept across his neck until he swatted it. Luke wondered if he could sleep away the next ten years, like someone in a fairy tale, and wake to find that his days were over and done with.
Then Dad’s voice, officious, and Mum saying, ‘Get up, kids. It’s time.’
The Jardines hadn’t sent a chauffeur-driven Rolls for them, of course. Just a plain old silver-grey saloon car. Dad was showing their papers to its driver, a woman whose sweater was embroidered with ‘LAB’, the Labour Allocation Bureau’s initials.
‘Five of you?’ the lady was saying, frowning at the documents. ‘I’ve only got four names here.’
Mum stepped forward, wearing her most reassuring face.
‘Well, our youngest, Daisy, wasn’t quite ten when we did the paperwork, but she is now, which is probably—’
‘Daisy? Nope, I’ve got her down.’ The woman read from the top sheet on her clipboard. ‘HADLEY, Steven, Jacqueline, Abigail and Daisy. Collection: 11 a.m. from 28 Hawthornden Road, Manchester. Destination: Kyneston Estate, Hampshire.’
‘What?’
Mum snatched the clipboard, Abi craning over her shoulder to look at it.
Anxiety and a mad kind of hope knotted their fingers in Luke’s guts and pulled in opposite directions. The paperwork had been botched up. He had a reprieve. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do his days at all.
Another vehicle turned into the street, a bulky black minivan with an insignia blazoned across the bonnet. They all knew that symbol, and the words curled underneath: ‘Labore et honore’. Millmoor’s town motto.
‘Ah, my colleagues,’ said the woman, visibly relieved. ‘I’m sure they’ll be able to clarify.’
‘Look,’ hissed Abi, pointing to something in the papers.
The van pulled up in front of the house and a thickset man, hair buzzed almost to his scalp, got out. He wasn’t wearing the LAB outfit, but something that looked more like a police uniform. A truncheon hung from his utility belt and knocked against his leg as he walked over.
‘Luke Hadley?’ he said, stopping in front of Luke. ‘Guess that’s you, sonny. Grab your bag, we’ve got another four to pick up.’