The Legacy

blanched slightly – he hadn’t meant to. Not really. Then he shrugged. ‘It’s just that Pip said we were going to be up here for a few months,’ he said. ‘We’ve been here a year now.’
    ‘I know. It’s amazing, isn’t it? I mean, it’s lovely up here. The children can play outside and we’re left alone . . .’ She met his eyes; he could see that she wanted to say more but was loath to in case he reacted badly. They’d had this conversation so many times lately, Peter always venting his boredom, his frustration, and Anna getting more and more anxious. It was his fault, he knew it – he should be happy up here. But he couldn’t be, not so far away from the action, not so far away from everything.
    ‘Left alone. You said it,’ he said gruffly, knowing as the words left his mouth that he should have kept them in. It wasn’t Anna’s fault he felt out of the loop, wasn’t her fault that he’d been turning Jude’s message over and over in his head all morning. What did it mean? Why hadn’t he said more? Had Pip told Jude not to tell him? Were they gradually severing the link? Did they not think Peter was useful any more?
    ‘We’ll go back eventually, you know we will,’ Anna said gently, standing up, moving towards him, putting her hand on his shoulder. He knew he was in the wrong and yet she was mollifying him, was being so understanding. He loved her more than he could ever put into words, and yet . . .
    ‘I have to go. I got a message. I have to go to London.’ He said it quietly, braced himself for Anna’s response. The message had said to send his ring down to London via their watcher. Not to ask any questions, not to tell anyone else about the message. It hadn’t said to bring it himself. It hadn’t suggested that Peter should leave the safe house.
    But that only made it more important to Peter that he go. It was time – time for him to be in the thick of things again. He was sick of being at arm’s length from the Underground, sick of being out of the loop, treated like a child. He’d heard about the attacks; he’d heard about Underground sympathisers being stoned on the streets. But he hadn’t heard it from the Underground itself, only from the newsfeed. He should be there to fight, not safe and sound in the middle of nowhere.
    ‘What?’ Anna’s hand had left his shoulder; now, instead of quietly supporting him, she was towering over him. ‘Why?’
    ‘Because they need me. Because I want to be part of the Underground again.’ His voice was tentative, like a child asking for something it knows it isn’t going to get.
    ‘You are part of the Underground. It was the Underground’s idea for us to be here, remember?’ Anna moved away; he knew she wanted to end the conversation.
    ‘We’re not doing anything,’ he heard himself say, unable to leave it, unable to accept his frustrations. ‘Except grow food and eat it. People are disappearing. The Underground has sabotaged Longevity. Things are happening and we should be part of it.’
    ‘No we shouldn’t,’ Anna said defiantly. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
    ‘It’s not dangerous. Come with me. We could all go. We could live in the Underground headquarters, like Jude and Sheila.’
    ‘Peter, no,’ Anna said. ‘Can’t you see what we’ve got up here? We’re self-sufficient. We don’t need anyone. We don’t have to hide – not really. If people are getting ill, why would you want to risk one of us getting ill too? Risk the children getting ill? If the world is slowly drying up, why would you want to leave our well?’
    She looked at him for a few seconds, her look the same one Peter remembered her giving him when they first met. Haughty, insecure, desperately trying to stay in control.
    But they weren’t in Grange Hall any more.
    ‘It’s not up to you,’ he said quietly. ‘There are things happening in London. Important things.’
    ‘There are important things happening here too,’ Anna said, her eyes flashing now. ‘Like Molly learning to crawl. Like Ben learning his numbers. And we’re up here for a reason, remember, because we’re safe here, because your grandfather and the Authorities can’t track us down to kill us all.’ She was on a roll now, her expression darkening as she spoke. ‘But I suppose those things aren’t important to you,’ she said, angry now. ‘I suppose being in London where the “action” is is more important than ensuring the next generation survives.’
    ‘I