The Legacy

time.’

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    Chapter Twenty-one
     
    The trees were bare of leaves, the ground hard and unyielding beneath Jude’s feet, the barren landscape one of death, not life. Flies buzzed everywhere, gloating at the newly abundant landscape.
    Behind Pincent Pharma, he could hear diggers. But they were not part of some construction programme – they were digging large pits, unofficial graves for the unmourned, the unacknowledged. He looked down at Sheila who had curled up like a cat in the brambles where they were hiding and was now fast asleep, her gentle breathing and soft skin incongruous against the harshness of their surroundings.
    His heart thudding in his chest, Jude watched silently as Peter walked towards the perimeter gate of Pincent Pharma. He was stopped by the guard, who looked at him curiously then made a call. Two minutes later the guard ushered Peter through and another rushed from the reception area to escort him in. Jude stared at the doors as they closed behind his half-brother. Jude’s plan was actually happening now. It was too late to change his mind now. Too late for any regrets, for second thoughts.
    His eyes travelled back to Sheila, his flawed, difficult, beautiful sleeping princess. Then, with a sigh, he shook her. ‘Sheila? Sheila, wake up.’
    ‘Mmmmm. Jude?’ She shook her head, disturbing her red curls so that they tumbled across her face. ‘I don’t want to. I’m asleep.’
    ‘You have to wake up. We’re going into Pincent Pharma.’
    Suddenly Sheila was wide awake. ‘Pincent Pharma? I don’t want to go in there, Jude. I don’t want to.’ She started to shake, and Jude knew it wasn’t from the cold.
    ‘We have to,’ he said. ‘We’ll be OK. I’m going to look after you. I promise.’
    Sheila’s eyes widened. ‘Are you going to give Richard Pincent the ring?’ she asked. ‘Is that why you got Peter to give it to you?’
    Jude didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he took her hand. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your parents,’ he said quietly. ‘I did look for them. I wanted to tell you . . .’
    ‘That they were dead?’ Sheila looked down, blinked slowly. Jude knew her eyes would be filling with tears. He pulled her towards him.
    ‘They died a few years after you were taken to Grange Hall,’ he said. ‘Your mother joined the Underground. She trained as a nurse; she took out contraceptive implants so that supporters could have children. She was killed by an Authorities spy who pretended she wanted her implant removed. She was a hero, Sheila.’
    Sheila nodded, a funny snorty noise coming from her throat. ‘And my father?’
    ‘He was the Opt Out,’ Jude said. ‘He died not long after. A heart attack. I think his heart was broken.’
    Sheila sniffed loudly. ‘They loved me then?’ she asked tentatively. ‘I do remember them loving me, but . . . but . . . at Grange Hall they said I’d made it up. They said I was Surplus, that my parents never wanted me.’
    ‘They wanted you,’ Jude whispered. ‘Just like I do now.’
    Sheila looked up at him earnestly. ‘OK,’ she said.
    ‘OK?’ Jude asked.
    ‘OK I’ll come in with you. I trust you, Jude. You tell me what to do and I’ll do it.’
    Jude looked down at her tenderly. He could hear Pip’s voice in his head: When you’re ready to lead, Jude, you will know because people want to follow you. Was he ready? Was he really ready for what lay ahead? He steeled himself. If he had doubts, he couldn’t let Sheila see them.
    ‘Good,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s go then. Just do exactly what I say and we’ll be fine.’
    ‘Exactly what you say,’ Sheila agreed.
    Her eyes met Jude’s; slowly, tenderly, he drew her towards him. As their lips met he felt an electrical charge shoot through him and for a moment, the plan didn’t matter – nothing mattered except being here, holding Sheila. But he knew he couldn’t stay there. Reluctantly, he pulled away and squeezed her hand. Then, moving tentatively to prevent himself from snapping twigs underfoot and alerting the Pincent guards to his presence, he crept towards the perimeter gate, motioning for Sheila to follow him, towards the door he had disabled earlier that morning. When got there he pulled Sheila towards him, flat against the wall. He tried the door, hoping against hope that no one had noticed the red light above it was no longer lit, then smiled with relief as it opened. Taking a deep breath, he jumped inside with Sheila and closed