Her homecoming was just like one of her dreams. They were rounding the headland, and there was Gethsemane. Half the children in the community swarmed to meet her. Damascus and Monty were at the head of the posse.
‘See how they love you?’ said Justin.
Damascus reached them first, despite being one of the smallest. He cannoned head first into Cairo’s stomach, tight-lipped and determined, as though his life depended on getting to his mother. She kissed him five—ten—twenty times.
‘I had to sleep in Monika’s cabin,’ he whispered, clinging like a monkey. ‘Havana was in Nana Kazan’s. Quito got to stay with Monty and Helike and Bali.’
‘I’m so sorry. I’m home now, we’ll be together again.’
‘We’re all going on a journey soon,’ Monty told her. He looked awed by this information.
‘A journey! Where are we going?’
‘To the Kingdom of Peace.’ He pointed solemnly at his feet. ‘We have to sleep with our shoes on and keep food ready, like the people of Israel in Egypt, because we could be leaving any time.’
The troupe headed towards the buildings. They were halfway up the hill when Liam emerged from the office. Nothing smiley or twinkling about him today. He barrelled up to Cairo, fists clenched.
‘You’ve got a bloody nerve, showing your face here.’
‘It’s all right,’ said Justin calmly. ‘Cairo heard me calling, and came back to me from the other side of the world.’
Liam was spluttering. ‘Right. I see … right.’
‘This is the prodigal daughter.’ Justin laid his hand on Cairo’s arm. ‘I’ve forgiven her. We’re going to celebrate.’
‘We are?’
‘Do we have a fatted calf to kill?’
Liam looked sulky. ‘I’m sure something could be arranged.’
‘A feast it is, then!’ There was a jubilant music to Justin’s voice. ‘This isn’t the season for anger, Liam. It’s the season for love and forgiveness. Tonight we’ll celebrate Cairo’s return; tomorrow we must get ready for our last Vigil.’
‘But the damage she did—Cairo, do you realise what you did? We’ve lost about ten people because of you!’
‘They weren’t true Watchmen,’ said Justin. ‘Liam, come and see me on the island, will you? Come for lunch. You and I have things to arrange.’ He put an arm around Liam’s shoulders, drawing him close. ‘My wingman,’ he whispered. ‘We’re coming to the end of our journey together. I need your help.’
Then Liam did something inexplicable. He began to cry. He grabbed both of Justin’s hands and kissed them.
Cairo was watching in astonishment when she heard running footsteps and looked around to see Aden sprinting across the grass towards her, startling the tethered goats. Her heart lightened at the sight of him.
‘Go and be with your family,’ said Justin. ‘They’ve missed you.’
•
You don’t know what it is you love about a place, she thought, until you’ve been away. Breezes ruffled the lake, and daffodils nodded among the cabins. Kazan and Berlin brought a tin of muffins to welcome their daughter-in-law home. Monika bustled down the steps of the surgery to show her how much baby Fez had grown. Even Gaza managed a frosty smile.
It was as though Cairo were reliving the mystery of the day she arrived here; she was falling in love all over again. She thrilled at familiar, everyday things: the plaintive piping of fantails, the echoing call of a coot. Children climbing in the trees, and a thud-thud-thud as someone chopped wood. The smells of pasture, wood smoke and fresh water.
When she went to collect her younger two, the women working in the crèche greeted her with real warmth. They even asked after her father. This was Gethsemane, after all. There was no negativity. Quito tottered merrily into her arms; Havana burst into guilt-inducing tears and had to be cuddled.
‘Now the harder part,’ Aden said with a sigh.
‘Suva?’
‘Mm. Sixteen-year-olds are less forgiving than babies.’
Suva must have seen Cairo’s arrival, but she hadn’t come out of the cabin. She was sweeping the place with angry jabs of her broom.
‘I’ve missed you,’ said Cairo. ‘How’ve you been?’
Suva kept sweeping, her face set and pinched. The kitchen floor had never looked so clean.
‘Enough.’ Aden took the broom from her hand. ‘Love, not negativity.’
‘That doesn’t apply to traitors.’
‘Cairo kept her promise. She said she’d be back in a fortnight, and here she is. Justin’s forgiven her. Remember the prodigal son, and the father who ran out to welcome him? Well, that father is Justin.’
Suva wouldn’t look at either adult. ‘My mother didn’t do half what you did. How come you get off so lightly?’
And she stormed out, slamming the flyscreen behind her. Quito and Damascus peeped through it, watching their sister’s departing back.
‘She’s been frightened,’ said Aden. ‘But oh, it’s great to have you home!’ He sank into the window seat, pulling Cairo with him. The children climbed all over their parents. Havana fell asleep. Damascus was sucking his thumb, leaning his head against Cairo’s chest. Quito doggy-piled on top of everyone.
For an hour the family made the most of being together again. They talked about Mike, and about Tara, and Diana. Cairo described the panic she’d felt when she first left Gethsemane, and how the memory of her childhood abuse seemed to melt away like a mist in the sun. Aden seemed disturbed by this, but he didn’t argue.
From time to time Damascus and Quito joined in with random stories about their lives. Nana Kazan had made them a tamarillo cake, and that was yummy. Damascus claimed to have seen a kiwi in the bush, and did a fair imitation of its shrill cry.
‘And Justin shouted in Call,’ he said.
‘Yeah!’ Quito held up miniature hands in a pantomime of dismay. ‘Really loud!’
‘Why did he shout?’ asked Cairo.
‘Because of Rome. He said Rome let the Devil into his heart.’
‘Things have changed here,’ murmured Aden. ‘It hasn’t been peaceful. Justin—oh, here we go. Another tremor.’
The ground shuddered and shook beneath them. Cups swung on their hooks.
‘Last Day coming,’ said Damascus. ‘Lots of earthquakes.’
Cairo wanted to get out of the cabin, to somewhere they couldn’t be overheard. She stretched her arms, trying to hug the whole family at once.
‘I need fresh air after being cooped up in aeroplanes. Shall we go for a walk?’
They took one of the bush trails, heading inland from the lake. Sunlight trickled through the canopy, forming brilliant pools on the peaty earth. A twittering pair of fantails flickered on and off the path. Aden carried Havana on his back. Damascus and Quito ran ahead. Every few minutes they stopped to hide behind rotting logs and jump out at their parents, screaming boo!
‘I’m worried,’ said Cairo, once they were safely away from the settlement. ‘I don’t like all this talk of the Last Day.’
‘It’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? We’re the Watchmen.’
‘Yes, but—’
Boo! roared the boys, and Aden pretended to leap in fright.
Cairo waited until they’d scurried off again. ‘What d’you think the Last Day will be like?’ she asked. ‘In practice?’
‘We don’t know the details. It’s one of the mysteries. We trust Justin to lead us.’
‘Yes.’ She looked sideways at him, weighing her next words. ‘But should we trust him?’
It was heresy, and it was a gamble. Aden carried on walking. So far, so good.
‘I can see more clearly now I’ve been away,’ she said. ‘Everything looks different. There are things I’ve discovered, things I’ve worked out. We’ve got to make decisions about our future.’
‘Our future’s here,’ said Aden. He sounded bemused. ‘Where else could it be?’
She played her trump card. ‘They claim Justin’s omniscient. He always appears when something’s happening. Right? Well no, because he’s got internet on the island! Internet! And—you won’t believe this, but it’s true—he and the Companions communicate through two-way radios. They tell him everything he needs to know.’
Not a trump card, after all. To her amazement, Aden nodded calmly. ‘Yes, I know about that. I’ve used those radios myself.’
‘But it’s a trick!’
‘It’s practical.’ He had the grace to look embarrassed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. ‘Justin gave up most of his divine power when he became human, so he needs a bit of help. But he does sense things, he does prophesy accurately. I’ve seen him do it. It’s amazing what he knows.’
‘Every tarot card reader knows how to convince people they can read minds or see the future. Every fortune teller—every teenager with a ouija board, for God’s sake.’
‘I wouldn’t know about that.’
She took his arm in both of hers. ‘Justin’s just a magician. A brilliant magician. He’s a genius! And for his next trick, he’s somehow got to make the Last Day happen. And that scares me.’
The boys were lying under the roots of a fallen tree, giggling helplessly. Booo! they howled, and Havana gurgled with laughter, in her papoose.
Cairo racked her brains for some way to open Aden’s eyes. It seemed blindingly obvious to her now that the emperor had no clothes. She reminded Aden about Tripoli, and about Skye, and asked whether he didn’t think it un-Christ-like that Justin had a habit of bringing very young, vulnerable girls back to his island. She pointed out that he controlled all the investments, all the pensions, all the income Gethsemane generated.
‘What’s he doing with that money?’ she demanded. ‘I’m pretty sure he’s got a car parked somewhere. He might own a penthouse, he might take luxury holidays.’
‘I’ll tell you one thing he does do,’ said Aden. ‘He pays the care home fees for more than one faithful friend of Gethsemane.’
She was beginning to despair. She’d arrived here as an adult, brought up by cynical parents, yet even when she was twelve thousand miles away she’d struggled to escape her own magical thinking. It wasn’t a logical thing, she knew. It was like having a different model of the world in your head. She was asking Aden to abandon everything he’d ever believed.
‘Imagine something for me,’ she said. ‘Just imagine it, okay?’
He didn’t refuse point blank, and that gave her hope. He could have denounced her negativity and gone straight to the Companions. But he was listening.
‘What if …’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Please don’t be shocked, just try to imagine it. What if Justin’s just an ordinary human being? What if his divinity exists only in his mind? Think about it, Aden.’
‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes. Imagine it. Think about what it would actually mean.’
He’d stopped, and was looking down at his feet. He stood there for a long time.
‘Then we’re all fools,’ he said quietly. ‘All of us. And our lives have been wasted.’
‘No, not wasted! Gethsemane’s achieved wonderful things.’ She followed up her advantage. ‘Justin spent last night in hospital.’
‘How d’you know?’
‘Because I saw him there. He may have a brain tumour, or a blood clot, or it may be nothing to worry about, but he spent the night being pumped full of morphine.’
‘So he’s sick?’
‘I think so. We’ve all seen the changes in him. Did you know he punched Rome, gave him a black eye?’
‘He hit Rome?’ Aden looked appalled.
She told him about Rome meeting her at the airport; that he was doing well, coping in the outside world. She described his half-closed eye, and his place at Kit and Meg’s. Aden seemed relieved to have news of him.
‘I’m glad he’s okay,’ he said. ‘But I wish that whole thing hadn’t happened. After he was expelled, it felt as though Gethsemane would never be the same again.’
‘What is it that’s so different?’
‘The atmosphere. Everyone’s on edge. We’ve never had so many people leave before. I can hear Justin shouting at night—keeps me awake! He seems to think we’re disloyal, that we’re plotting against him. But nobody is.’
‘What’s he going to do next?’ asked Cairo. ‘What’s going to happen if the Last Day comes, and there is no host of angels or cloud of glory?’
The small boys were running out of steam. Their joyous enthusiasm for nonsense was wearing off, and Quito had banged his knee. Cairo kissed it better before the family turned around and began to wander home.
‘We can leave,’ whispered Cairo. ‘We can leave whenever we want. We can walk along the track at the top—hey, we could even use the tractor! We’ll take the children, and anyone else who’ll come with us. Maybe your parents. There must be others who’re worried.’
There was no response from Aden. She could imagine the chaos in his mind. She was asking for the impossible.
‘Think about it,’ she begged. ‘Please.’
•
By the time they returned to the settlement, Seoul had a wild pig roasting on a spit. News was out that Cairo was back, and people rushed to welcome her with varying degrees of sincerity. The well-oiled machinery of Gethsemane had swung into action. Justin had called for a feast to celebrate the return of the prodigal daughter, and all stops were being pulled out.
Cairo and Aden lingered on the beach, watching the last light bleed from Mount Tarawera while the boys threw handfuls of sand into the water. They saw Justin row Liam back from lunch on the island. Justin seemed spry, but Liam’s shoulders were slumped. The two men stood on the jetty for a long time, with Peter sitting patiently at his master’s feet. Justin was doing most of the talking. Eventually Liam climbed into Ikaroa and set off towards the van.
‘Where’s he going?’ wondered Cairo.
Aden shrugged. ‘Some errand.’
Justin waved at Cairo and Aden, and was walking along the jetty when the ground trembled again. Ripples spread across the water as though some monster were stirring in its depths. Peter howled, but Justin smiled.
‘The earth knows,’ he said.
•
Gethsemane celebrated Cairo’s return to the fold with wine, song and love. Later, as she and Aden fell asleep, she promised never to leave him again.
‘If and when I go,’ she said, ‘you’ll be coming with me.’
The next day, everything changed.