Essential as Air and Water by Matthew Bushen
Chapter 30
Trains arrived every few hours, giving people enough time for free movement. The air was mild and the rain continued to fall steadily enough to help with the fires but not too much to require shelter. On arrival, people became aware that the city would need rebuilding, physically and spiritually. To many it appeared to be an impossible task; the scale of the disruption would certainly mean a great deal of time and hard work. That was for another day, however, a fact that most people were happy with.
Ken was growing greatly concerned with how relaxed the security had become since their return to London. Lanegan was walking around the streets with only a few personnel in close proximity. This would never have been considered before the riots began, as the Prime Minister was not considered an accessible public figure. His power and influence came from media depictions that showed the good that Britain did for its own citizens and around the world. Any credit for the actions of the party was ultimately given to him. It had to be this way for the system to continue the way it did. Ken could see Lanegan becoming more enthusiastic with being involved on the ground with the people. This was dangerous, Ken thought, and jeopardised his appearance as a figure that stood above the ordinary citizens. For Lanegan, being amongst the people was becoming an obsession.
Everyone gathered and returned to their temporary offices in the tunnels underneath Waterloo station. Lanegan’s first thought was not the minor success of their plan, but how to continue. For this he would need updates from other cities to establish whether results were consistent. They were also yet to witness or obtain any evidence of a successful individual case.
Lanegan felt relief, a feeling that was shared amongst those who knew how easily it could have turned out differently. Luck had presented itself in many forms.
“First of all, do we have anything on Toby yet?” asked Lanegan.
“Nothing I’m afraid,” said Ken.
Lanegan let out a deep sigh. For long periods of time he had been able to concentrate on matters and not consume himself with thoughts of Toby. It had been at the back of his mind and now that he had a minute to gather himself, he realised how concerned he was.
“Okay - What do the reports say so far?”
“We have reports from Birmingham, Manchester, Norwich, Cardiff and many more smaller towns, with various degrees of success,” Ken replied.
“Various how?”
“Not everyone had the luck we had. The rain hasn’t reached the north yet, but the vague weather reports we have tell us that it is on its way. Some of the returning citizens were met with hostility from people who had remained and had to be protected by the military; that is ongoing I believe. It’s going to be messy for some time. Success at the moment can only be measured by the level of safety of the people returning; I don’t have any reports or clarification on turned individuals returning to their normal selves.”
“Damn it,” said Lanegan. “Do we have the numbers on injured - or worse?”
“Many are reported injured or ill and in need of immediate care. Hopefully, they will establish clear routes back on the trains as we have, so they can get to medical help. The death totals are unknown; but not – zero,” said Ken.
Lanegan walked across the room and kicked a chair, sending it into the wall.
“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT,” he shouted. “Alright – we need to focus on the positives. We are here and everyone seems to be getting involved. I honestly believe we and everyone else out there are committed until we can find some sort of answer and resolution. We have good people out there; Wilf and Mark Waits who are organising things and keeping morale high. They know what they’re doing. However, the longer things go on – the good will won’t last forever.”
Lanegan drew a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. He looked at the photograph of London that had troubled him earlier. Isabelle stood up and walked to where he stood.
“We’re with you, Tom,” she said. “You’re not alone and you should stop thinking that this is your problem to solve. It’s everyone’s problem. What we’ve achieved this far is worth a pat on the back. But we’re not ready to open the champagne yet.”
“Isabelle is right, Tom,” said Ken. “We are taking small steps forward; but they are forward. We may not have the answers, but what we do have is momentum. We need to keep moving forward.”
Suddenly Ken’s radio screamed into life. He had turned the volume up outside due to the noise of the crowd. He left the room for a moment and then returned with urgency in his steps.
“We have action not far from here. Some rioters have been spotted and a crowd is following them along with some of our security who are observing. It’s a good opportunity to possibly witness a positive reaction,” he said.
Lanegan looked at each of them in turn.
“Okay,” he said. “Tell them not to let anyone get too close, we’re on our way.”
“I’m not sure we need to be that involved,” said Ken.
“What do you mean?” asked Lanegan.
“You don’t need to be involved in every situation. We have people out there doing good work and monitoring what is happening. I don’t think it is wise for you to be seen out in the streets too much. We can organise a public talk when we can properly organise security and guarantee your safety.”
Lanegan thought for a moment.
“I’m not going to take a back seat now. I need to be out there and witness what I have started.”
“We can give you regular updates.”
“No,” said Lanegan bluntly. “I started this and I will be involved on the front line. It is my responsibility to see what I have begun and help where I can. I’m going. No more questions.”
Lanegan walked off to get ready. The others looked at each other with mixed feelings. They all knew it was not a wise move; all of them except Jacob, who was now convinced that the changes he had dreamt of might be starting to become a reality.
They left the tunnels with a security unit, collecting random dry coats on the way out. Reaching the surface they jogged behind Ken, who kept a quick pace. Jacob noticed Professor Kilmister was desperately trying to stay with the pace, but was struggling to keep up. The riots were responsible for a considerable amount of rubbish and as unpleasant as this was to the eye, it meant many useful objects could be obtained. Jacob took advantage of this and found Professor Kilmister a perfectly usable bicycle to ride. He smiled and mounted the bike with Jacob running beside him. Jacob saw determination engraved into his face. He had survived to see his premonition become reality. It would have been his right to be bitter and angry. His life had been torn apart because he had spoken openly about genuine fears he held for mankind and the direction in which it was headed. He didn’t seek an apology or compensation for what he had lost; he was just grateful to be included and listened to. And he was determined to keep up.
They reached Waterloo Millennium Green where a crowd of people had gathered on the far side. As they moved closer catching their breath, the sound levels grew to an almost unbearable level. Jacob climbed onto a street light to gain a better view.
“They’ve trapped someone,” he shouted down. “It looks like they’re trying to cage a wild beast. This isn’t going to end well if someone doesn’t intervene.”
Lanegan looked towards Ken.
“We need to step in,” he said.
Ken’s facial expression needed no words to describe his thoughts on the idea, but eventually gave in and nodded.
Before their security detail could follow them, they ran to edge of the crowd and began to squeeze their way through. As they got to the front they saw the man. He was clearly terrified and defending himself by swinging a scaffold bar violently. Those closest to him were playing drums and chanting as loudly as possible in what looked like an attempt to force him back to normality.
“Oh my, look at him; he’s scared out of his mind,” said Stephanie.
“Everyone stop. Please stop,” Lanegan shouted to no avail.
He looked for Ken, who was behind him amongst the spectators.
“Where the hell is security?” he shouted.
“We lost them in the crowd, but their instructions are to observe only,” Ken replied. “We meet the rioter’s head-on, remember. They will only protect party members.”
“Shit,” said Lanegan.
He looked at the people around him. A group mentality had developed, with nobody in charge. They were overly enthusiastic and hadn’t realised they were making the situation worse.
The rioter held the bar with two hands. His fear had grown into anger and his posture changed to show he was willing to use force as defence. Seeing an opportunity, a lady stepped forward and attempted to grab hold of the bar. The man reacted and swung the bar quickly, cracking her on the wrists. She looked with shock as the pain took hold. There was a moment of silence before she screamed in agony. Lanegan could sense what was about to happen and tried to push through. Suddenly chaos ensued and Lanegan was swallowed up in the crowd. He could no longer see what was happening as people moved in all directions. Just as he gained his balance, the crowd began to move as a single unit, its weight and force causing a collapse leaving dozens of people lying in a heap on the floor. Lanegan pulled himself up using the people around him and looked to where the man had been standing. As the crowd disbanded in a panic, he could see a body lying still on the floor. He ran towards the body until he was close enough to see the damage. The man lay still, looking up at the sky. He didn’t move.
“Somebody get help,” Lanegan shouted. “I need a paramedic.”
Lanegan stood still, looking down. Shock and fear forced him to stare at the blood-covered face, unable to look away. Ken and the others came rushing to his side, quickly turning away from the gruesome site that lay before them.
Morrison slid to his knees at the man’s side and checked for a pulse. He attempted resuscitation and checked again before looking towards Lanegan. His eyes said everything Lanegan needed to know. His biggest fear had become reality.
“Ken,” he said urgently. “We need to get a message to everyone to not approach and harass the rioters directly. This cannot become common.”
“I’ll have a message repeated at the station for all of the new arrivals. I’ll also have military vehicles with loud speakers give the message in the streets.”
“How did this happen?” asked Lanegan. “This changes everything. Everything we have worked so hard to prevent has been undone in a single act. We took the people out of the city to be safe and they have returned capable of this. Why would they do something like this? How am I supposed to show people what we are trying to do is for the best when this happens the first day we return? Can we return from this? Is this my fault?”
Lanegan’s questions remained unanswered. Nobody wanted to answer them. The body in front of them made it impossible.
Military paramedics arrived and declared the man officially deceased. The body was taken with great haste, away from public view. It was now perfectly understood that the atmosphere could change dramatically very quickly. In an instant, the good intentions and the will to help and do the right thing, had disappeared and left people with blood on their hands and one man dead. The only way it could become worse was if it became a common act, or worse still, accepted.
As the military ambulance left the site, Stephanie glanced up to see another rioter being hounded by a smaller, but more determined group, whose intentions were clearly more sinister than Lanegan had pleaded for.
“Over there,” she shouted. “It’s happening again.”
They ran to where the group had surrounded the rioter outside the entrance to a building.
“Stop, please stop,” shouted Lanegan.
He pushed his way to the front of the group, making eye contact with the rioter who looked scared but ready to fight. Lanegan looked down at the man’s hand and saw he was holding an expandable police baton then urgently turned to the crowd.
“Move back from this person. This is not a choice,” he said.
“We respect who you are and what you have done, Prime Minister,” said a woman. “But we have just seen this person smashing the Old Vic retirement centre, where members of my family have lived for years. I can’t stand by and let him get away with this and if you and your people are not going to do anything about it, then we will. They must be stopped.”
“I understand your frustrations and I am sympathetic to your emotional attachment to the building, but these people are not themselves and are not in control of their actions. We have come back to try and release them by peaceful means. I have worked very hard, against great opposition, to not allow this to be resolved by the use of violence – state-controlled or any form of street justice. What you are about to do will not help.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Lanegan kept eye contact with the woman in an attempt to show that he remained in control and had a solution. He thought for a second, but could not give an answer.
“I do not have the answers you want,” he eventually answered. “But, I do know that if we hunt down the rioters in vigilante packs and hand out the punishments we see fit, soon we will have absolute lawlessness. And you are forgetting also, that you may turn at any moment. We all could. Is this how you would want to be treated?”
“I haven’t turned yet and I’ll take my chances. Now please move out of the way.”
Lanegan stood his ground and was quickly joined by the rest of the group and some security personnel. The numbers were even, although the weapon distribution was not. The group had gathered what they could find that could be used as weapons; metal bars, wooden sticks, rocks and in one man’s hand a knife. As soon as the knife was visible, Lanegan’s security pulled out their guns.
“Put them away,” ordered Lanegan.
“Not until their weapons are laid on the floor,” replied an agent.
“Put them away. I am telling you to put the guns away, that is a direct order.”
“Sorry, Prime Minister, but that is not going to happen until they put their weapons down,” the agent repeated.
The agent looked straight at the woman.
“All of you need to put your weapons down,” he ordered.
“Or what? Are you going to shoot us? You should be shooting these monsters,” she said pointing at the rioter. “At least we now know who your priorities are with.”
Everyone turned to look at the man who was now pacing with menace. The new hostility towards him had confused and angered him more. His rage was no longer centred on causing damage; it was now focussed on survival. He flicked his baton to extend it to a fighting position. He would not give in easily.
The volume of the argument had brought the attention of people who had been nearby. Many of those who were present earlier at the Waterloo Millennium Green had stayed close to see what action would be taken after the death of the rioter. Lanegan sensed the situation was slipping away. He knew that whatever happened in this moment could dictate any future course of action and what was deemed an acceptable response towards the rioters.
“This isn’t a matter of priorities,” pleaded Lanegan. “We do not want anybody getting hurt. This will spiral out of control in an instant if we choose the path you are taking. Think of what you are doing. This isn’t something you would have considered a few weeks ago, this isn’t how we live.”
“Well, maybe that’s about to change,” replied the woman.
The group edged forward. Voices from both sides raised until warnings and threats were being shouted from both sides. Weapons were hesitantly raised, with both sides unsure of each others limitations and willingness to hold their ground.
As each side weighed up their opponents, a security agent caught a flicker of light reflect off of a metal object and reacted by firing a shot, narrowly missing a young woman. The noise made everyone stop for a brief mome
They stood together for what felt like minutes, as the man cried and asked for forgiveness. As he composed himself, Isabelle noticed his eyes transfixed upon something on the green across the street.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Those children on the green, what are they playing with?”
Isabelle turned to look.
“Musical instruments,” she replied smiling.
“Where did they come from?” he asked.
“They were donated by people who had kept them or made them.”
“I’ve never seen one before.”
“Would you like to?
“I would, very much.”
“Come on then.”
They walked to where the children were standing.
“Hi,” said Isabelle. “Can you show us how to play your instruments?”
“We’re not very good. We only got them yesterday,” a small girl replied.
“That doesn’t matter. Maybe we can all learn together.”
The children banged and blew in an uncoordinated mess that sounded fantastic. Isabelle looked to the man who was grinning, clearly wanting to join in. Isabelle gestured to one of the children to let him play; she gladly passed over a recorder. He blew too hard and created a shrieking sound that made them all cover their ears.
“Perhaps try this one,” said another child, passing him a tambourine.
They watched as he tapped and rattled, instantly falling in love with the sounds.
Lanegan and Ken watched Isabelle with intrigue and relief.
“I have no words for what I just witnessed,” Lanegan said. “No matter how much I prepared myself for potential confrontations, I could not have envisaged what we just witnessed. For a moment there, I thought all was lost. I have never seen a murdered body before – and I never want to again. ”
“It was impossible for any of us to know what to expect. At least now our eyes are open. We should make no more assumptions about people and how they are going to react and cope with the changes we are putting forward. Isabelle has proved that it can work, at least temporarily; but this is one case out of thousands.”
“I can’t get over how fast it happened. That poor man. What came over those people, Ken? This brings a whole new dimension to how we proceed. We are clearly going to need to be stronger-minded, in terms of policing and integration of policy.”
“I don’t think we should get carried away. Isabelle has shown there is hope. We must continue with that in mind. There will be more pain, I‘m sure, but we have a chance, no matter how small.”
“I am beginning to fear Bob was right. How can we control this?”
“We need to keep our composure; don’t let this affect you or you will not have the clarity of mind to win this battle. Our energy is needed elsewhere.”
As their gaze returned to Isabelle, Professor Kilmister joined them.
“Do you know what this is called, Tom?” he asked.
“Why don’t you enlighten me,” replied Lanegan.
“It’s called musical therapy.”
“Which is what exactly?”
“It was used many years ago to help people, until it was phased out like many other things that were useful.”
“How and who was it used for?” asked Jacob, overhearing.
“It was used with people suffering from illness or disability. Many people found it therapeutic and comforting. You can create language with music, Jacob – which is useful when you struggle to find a voice. You must be aware by now of how music can make you feel. Some people find it easier to express themselves through music that better reflects their emotional condition.”
“Giving people a voice is not my concern,” replied Lanegan. “My role is to make lives better – and safer.”
“It should all be your concern, Prime Minister. The people will want to be consulted on their future. They will need to express themselves in one way or another.”
He turned to face Lanegan.
“Be sure in your mind how you are going to proceed, because fear and doubt will only steer you in the wrong direction.”
“Well thanks for making it clear,” said Lanegan, his tone clearly showing annoyance. “If it was clear how to proceed I believe we would have the solution already. Unfortunately for us, fear and doubt is everywhere. Tell me something, how do you have so much information about the past? You seem to know a great deal about information that isn’t publicly available.”
“There are many like me, Prime Minister.”
“We know,” said Lanegan.
“If you will excuse me Prime Minister, I would very much like to visit my old home and possibly find my family who I have not seen for many years. I need to know that they are well.”
“Of course, you should do what is best for you and your family. Thank you for your honest appraisal of my leadership, Professor Kilmister. If you need anything, a place to stay or anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you Prime Minister, and good luck.”
Professor Kilmister walked away. He left the others quietly watching Isabelle and the man playing with the children. It was a brief moment of silence before Ken’s radio exploded into life again, causing them all to jump.
“Will you turn that down, please,” shouted Lanegan.
Ken walked away as he talked, brushing aside Lanegan’s comment with his hand.
Isabelle stood up and walked with the man towards two security men who had remained close by. He stayed with them as Isabelle walked back slowly and sat next to Jacob.
“You didn’t tell me you sang,” Jacob said.
“I didn’t know I could – not really,” Isabelle replied.
“That was amazing Isabelle,” said Stephanie. “Where is he going?”
“He volunteered to go with the agents to be observed. Tell me I’m not going mad, he did change in front of us, didn’t he?”
“He did, it was amazing,” said Stephanie.
“What song was that?” asked Jacob.
“It’s a song I used to sing to calm my children down when they were young – it worked every time.”
“It was beautiful,” said Stephanie.
Isabelle became slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t help smiling to herself and taking a deep breath of relief as she realised the potentially bad outcome of her bravery.
As they sat unsure of what would happen next, Ken returned, walking slowly looking at the radio. His facial expression was one of sadness. He looked up at Lanegan and shook his head.
“What is it, Ken?” asked Lanegan.
“They’ve found Toby.”