Doctor Who_ Rags - Mick Lewis [80]
to offer him one. He leant against the stile smoking it, swaying slightly.
‘You stink like a pig, Kane.’
‘Still wanna shag me, eh, Cass? Well, it’s too late for shit like that. Things have gone to bad.’
She ignored him. Her face was hard, though her eyes could never be anything other than soft. Her jawline tensed as she spoke. ‘You couldn’t leave it, could you? You had to come and spoil it for him. His big night, that meant so much to him. You just couldn’t stop yourself.’
Kane didn’t know what she was talking about. He frowned over at the roadies who were unrolling cables and connecting them to amps and speakers arranged amongst the stones. ‘Bad times coming, Cass,’ was all he said. ‘The band’s gonna play us all into hell!’
‘Tell me, Kane: what’s it like to be you?’
He looked up then, and she saw for the first time the extent of his madness. His eyes were haunted and barren. She flinched, and almost fell backwards off the stile.
‘You don’t wanna know that, Cass. You wouldn’t like to go there. scary places inside my head. No one playing games, no children, no... Raggers - he’s been there, left his shadow behind.
See, he’s been playing with my family for years and years. Didn’t know that, did ya, Cass? Didn’t know I come from good stock, once upon a time. I didn’t know either, but there it is: Kane Sawyer’s ancestor was a rich bastard. Mayor of Cirbury.’ And here he broke off laughing, a wild raucous laugh that was like a cold hand on Cassandra’s spine.
‘And Raggers, well, Raggers messed with my ancestor’s daughter. Messed with ‘er. You know what I mean, Cass? She was dancin’ with the devil, and bore his brat. Ha ha. A Raggers brat. And her pop, guess what he did?Yeah, you just won the sale of the century, Cass, cos I know you’re keeping up. He disowned her, cos she was tainted by scum and filth. She died cos of his neglect, in poverty and distress. Are you moved to tears yet, Cass?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Kane.’
192
‘Course you soddin’ don’t. What did you ever know about poverty and distress?’
‘Kane,’ she said after a while, her bitterness dissipating fast as she realised how far he was slipping away. ‘Who’s the Ragman?’
Kane swayed and dropped his cigarette. It lay burning amongst the buttercups. ‘Is the pub open yet?’ he said quietly.
The pub was packed. Just about every member of the small community was in there, and quite a few of them had drunk more than their usual allocation. But the mood was strangely jovial and benevolent; even when some of the travellers entered.
Jo, Sin and Jimmy were among them. They received a few amused and curious stares but no hostility. ‘The mummer said we’d be welcome here,’ Sin said as Jimmy ordered the round.
‘Did ‘e?’ Jimmy turned round with a puzzled expression. ‘Can’t remember that.’
‘Yeah,’ Sin said, but her face was crinkled with puzzlement. ‘I’m sure he did.’ Jo was silent, watching the locals swilling and murmuring. She spotted one shabby young man leaning against the jukebox, swaying drunkenly. He was staring at her with unfocused eyes.
‘Well, he was right anyway, wasn’t he?’ Sin continued, gesturing around the pub. ‘Despite all the bad publicity the tour’s been given, they don’t give a shit about us being here.’ The tall punk who had helped her sort out the traitor at Amos Vale cemetery entered the pub with a few other spiky-haired rebels. He spotted Sin and strolled over, casually kissing her neck and putting his hand on her backside. She grinned emptily at him.
Jo was still watching the scruffy, drunken young man. He detached himself from the jukebox and advanced waveringly on her. she stood her ground, thinking he might be one of the convoy
‘tribe’ although she had never seen him before.
He wobbled to a halt in front of her and his large, hollow eyes fixed on hers.
‘He’s coming,’ was all he said. And suddenly Jo was treated to a 193
mental image of the Doctor kneeling with his hands over his ears, screaming in the back of the cattle truck, and