The Declaration

‘When do I go anywhere without my little box of tricks?’ He smiled maliciously.
    ‘All right then, let’s get to work,’ Frank said. ‘Nice houses around here, actually. Might grab ourselves a bob or two as well as the Surpluses. And people in nice houses don’t half squeal quickly once they experience a little bit of pain. I reckon we’ll be done here by the end of the day.’
    Her parents hadn’t hit her. No one had told her she was stupid, or useless, or unworthy.
    But the truth was, she wished they had. Anna knew how to deal with beatings and harsh words. When she knew she deserved them, they felt almost like a release, like a penance that enabled her to keep living.
    Anna had once heard Mrs Pincent say ‘You can kill them with kindness, you know’ to one of the Instructors, when she didn’t know Anna was listening, and Anna hadn’t known what she’d meant at the time, but she did now. She had never realised that kindness could be so painful, never known how agonising it was to be loved.
    Instead of shouting at her, or punishing her because of the journal, her parents and Peter had just stopped talking for a moment or two, then quietly, kindly, asked her what she’d written in it. And then her mother had smiled brightly and said that she was sure it didn’t matter, and that Anna shouldn’t worry, but Anna did worry. She knew it did matter. She knew that everything mattered.
    And now she and Peter were in the cellar, and her parents had said it was because it was comfortable down there and that everything would be fine, but Anna knew that they were hiding because before they knew about the journal, her parents had said that they didn’t need to hide as the curtains were drawn and, anyway, no one would be looking for escaped Surpluses here. And she knew that her parents were worried because her father had a vein like Mr Sargent’s, just above his right eye, and it was throbbing. And now they were going to the country that very evening, now that she’d told them about the journal, even though they hadn’t been planning to go to the country until a few days later. Even though earlier her father had said they’d be safer here.
    The cellar was accessed through a trapdoor in the kitchen, which was hidden by a rug underneath the table. Peter told her that it used to be a coal cellar when people heated their houses using fires, but there wasn’t any coal there now.
    There was a sofa down there, which turned into a bed, and a big armchair which could also be made into a bed, but it took longer and it wasn’t as comfortable. Peter had shown her everything when they’d first got down there, and it reminded Anna of his first days at Grange Hall, except that back then she’d been the one showing him the ropes. Peter said he’d hidden in the cellar before, and he almost looked excited when he said it, like this was an adventure or something, instead of a nightmare that was entirely her fault.
    For a long time, she hadn’t said much, because she didn’t know what to say, so she’d just let Peter tell her all about the cellar, including the chairs and the tins of food and the bucket behind the curtain which you could use as a loo and the opening in the road where the coal used to be poured in, and where they could get out if the Catchers came, if the Catchers got into the house.
    And that’s when she started shaking.
    ‘What will happen to us if they catch us?’ she asked him, her voice small and hesitant. ‘What will happen to the Small, and my parents?’
    Peter looked away.
    ‘They won’t,’ he said firmly, but Anna could tell he was scared too.
    ‘You should have just left me there,’ she said quietly. ‘Then you’d all be safe and the Catchers wouldn’t be coming. It’s all my fault.’
    Peter turned round to face her fully, and Anna saw that his eyes were flashing.
    ‘It is not your fault,’ he said. ‘It’s my fault. It was my escape plan, so I should have thought of everything.’
    He turned away from Anna, then immediately turned back again, his eyes desperately seeking hers.
    ‘You’re the one that matters, Anna, not me. They’re your parents, not mine. I’m just lucky they took me in. You might be a Surplus, but I’m a double Surplus because my own parents didn’t even want me. I owe your parents everything, you have to see that. If anything goes wrong, it’s my fault.’
    Peter was blinking furiously, and as he saw her look at him, he dropped his eyes to the