Chasing Freedom Home (Malinding) Read Online Free PDF

good?’ He stamped on the foot of the nearest prisoner. They nodded, ‘Yes, sirred’ him and he smiled again. ‘Right, let’s get these chains off you. Back up stairs, second door on the right. Take as much time as you like. No hurry today.’
    Suspecting a trap, a trick, a cruel death, they waited their turn to be released from their chains and made their way slowly up stairs. The second door on the left stood open and a smiling guard waved them inside.
    ‘Strip off your clothes, gentlemen, and put them in this laundry sack. Then through those swing doors into the shower room. There will be clean clothes waiting for you when you’ve had a good wash. No rush today. Expecting a hail of bullets, praying for a quick death, Ed stripped and pushed his way through the swing doors.
    The room was warm. Steam filled the air and he could hear the sound of running water. He walked on, found a shower cubicle, and stood still while the water rushed over him. There was a bottle labelled ‘shampoo’ which contained shampoo. Slowly, like someone who showered for the first time, Ed washed himself clean. Somebody, in a neighbouring cubicle, sang. He stood under the stream of water, closed his eyes, and thought of sharing a bath or shower with Jane. The flow of water ceased. He looked for a towel but there was none. Shyly he left the cubicle, hands covering his genitals. His remaining fellows stood in a line outside their respective showers, similarly covering themselves. They looked at each other, and laughed.  ‘Better find those clean clothes’ said one.
    There were none to be found. The men stared at one another.
    ‘OK. Service is a bit slow today. Can anyone remember where the canteen is? Spot of breakfast, maybe? I’ve not noticed any women round here so we won’t be offending any. Then back here to check the laundry then back to our room for a spot of shut-eye before the chores begin?’ Ed had taken the lead. They found the canteen. The counter top held six thick slices of wholemeal bread spread with butter and orange marmalade. There were six large plastic beakers containing sweet, strong, black coffee. One by one they ate the bread and drank the coffee. They carefully placed the empty beakers back onto the counter top, then left the room, closing the door behind them. They looked at one another then returned to the shower room. It was locked. They stood, waiting for the guards to collect them, to give them orders, to kill them. One by one they shrugged, muttered something to themselves, then turned and walked slowly back to the only place they knew, back to their cell. The toilet bucket had been emptied and rinsed clean. The water bucket was full of clean water. The chains were nowhere to be seen. Six thin mattresses lay on the floor, alongside the walls.
    ‘Guess we’d better wait for room service to be resumed’ said one man. ‘My name’s Henry Benjamin Whipple, by the way. I’m a reverend. Just call me Ben.’ Cautiously, it seemed, they introduced themselves. They were all professionals; apart from the priest and Ed, the lecturer, there was a medical student in his final year of study, a journalist, a head teacher and an author. Not one of them mentioned family, not one of them spoke of their arrest. Conversation failed, died. The men found a mattress, looked at it, slowly sat down, lay full length, dozed, and waited for something to happen.
    The Watchers watched.
     

7
     
    Jane woke up in bed in her parents’ house. Whatever drugs she had been given had caused her great memory loss. Ed was missing; why didn’t he come to her? There had been a baby, or at least the dream of a baby. She was sore; had she had a baby? She couldn’t remember. Sleep was good, but when she slept she dreamed strange dreams, dreams about men in uniform and someone screaming, screaming. Something was missing. Somebody was missing. Ed, Ed-Lamin; why was he not with her? Had he been just a dream? She tried to remember his voice, and