Pinky Promises - Chapter 4
It had taken them three months, but they found a place in the end. Becker had been supportive and offered a few pats on the shoulder as they walked around and tackled the bramble-covered path that led to the static caravan during a viewing. It was hidden under a canopy of trees that had been free to grow as they wanted without having lorries scrape the branches as they drove by or chainsaws working to bring them down at the trunk.
Jess on the other hand didn’t seem too pleased and told him she’d much prefer it if they stayed a little longer, they were just finding their feet and she didn’t want him taking too much on too soon. But he felt at home there as the prickly shrubs scratched at his ankles and the birds sang louder than the distant sound of traffic.
The caravan had seen better days, granted, but it was a roof over their heads and they had managed with much less for so long. They had a room each and Fern could scribble as much as she’d like on the wall without Jess running after her with a damp cloth.
There were beds and he promised he would try and sleep in this one or at least attempt a nap on the long sofa that stretched along the side of their living-dining-kitchen combo. He knew Becker had found him sleeping on the floor in their spare room a couple of mornings with his knees probably tucked up to his chin and an arm stretched towards the bed. The only sign of the soldier being there was the steaming cup of coffee left by his head.
Connor was glad he’d never asked about it but thought that if anyone would ever understand it, it would be Becker.
They were clearing the path now, Jess disinfecting the caravan and Fern rescuing any insect they unearthed and finding them a new home on their plot.
The ARC had become tense during the last few weeks, the newspapers suddenly paying attention to their every move. Journalists running stories, some of them true and they hoped no one believed them while others were lies and Lester claimed defamation. Jess was forced to work from the ARC while Becker and his team were dispatched from their homes to avoid being tailed by an eager reporter.
Connor tried to help where he could, doing whatever he was trusted with but it was mostly making brews and looking after Fern. Jess would call him a “lifesaver” whenever he delivered a fresh cup of tea but she hardly ever made it to the bottom of the mug and he could never tell if he was just bad at making them or if she was too easily distracted.
When he stayed at their flat, it was often the same but Becker finished his. They’d prep ingredients for dinner and practice writing with Fern. Becker had sneaked home a laptop for Connor to get back to grips with what he seemed to have forgotten during the five years on the other side of the anomaly but he was under strict instructions never to let Jess find out.
This was the first time in at least a month they’d all spent time outdoors together.
“Not a bad place is it?” Becker chimed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he leant against his pitchfork.
“No, I like it.”
The caravan had streaks of green running down the side of it, algae stains from rain and wilderness.
“Bit of a commute though, to work.” Becker reminded, one of the cons Jess had listed when they were searching.
“We’ll manage. After all, it’s Fern first, then me, then you remember? Lester’s orders.” Connor had welcomed it at first but with the talks of finding Fern a school left him wondering what he’d end up doing with his time. Cups of tea and coffee?
“I think you’re there now, with driving I mean. There were moments I thought I’d never make it out alive. I might even go as far as saying you’re a better driver now than you ever were before.”
He laughed, a light scoff in his throat but it was genuine. Wasn’t forced or fake, it was real and there had been more and more of them as the weeks went on. Danny had started to joke around him again and Jess allowed a few more genres of film at move night.
“Connor, please tell me you brought a kettle with you?” Jess called from the caravan, peeking her head through the door. “Oh Fern, that’s a lovely worm, what are you going to do with that?”
“Save him.” Fern said, holding it between a finger and thumb with just enough pressure to stop it from wriggling free.
“Ah, I see. Connor? Kettle?” Jess smiled.
“I don’t think I did, sorry.” Connor’s hands were covered in cuts just like his ankles, tiny grazes from the waste around them.
“Ooh, I could make a fire.” Fern suggested placing the worm in the palm of her free hand.
“Nope, no, that won’t be necessary. Thank you though, Fern.” Jess disappeared back into the caravan.
They got back to clearing the overgrowth only for a little while before Becker paused again. “Listen, Connor. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Okay, go ahead.” Connor carried on scraping his pitchfork to loosen stubborn shrubs and ivy stems, knowing that conversations like this one never really led anywhere good.
“These leaks at work, there’ll be an investigation.”
“Makes sense, yeah.” He wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing anymore, trying to focus on Becker’s words and block out Fern’s singing and the sound of an aeroplane flying far above them.
“They’re going to question you. Just to cover all bases, you know.” Becker didn’t sound sure but Connor went along with it.
“Sure. Makes sense.”
And it did make sense, he just didn’t like it. He had heard some whispers by the lockers a few days ago about whether he could be trusted but he managed to shrug them from his thoughts, but it wouldn’t have been so easy if he thought people would actually believe them. Whoever they were anyway. The medic he’d seen before, but the other was a civilian. Admin, maybe.
“It doesn’t mean they think it’s -”
“It’s fine.” Becker went to open his mouth but Connor continued. “I’m fine.”
They didn’t stay too much longer clearing and cleaning, they headed back to the flat for a round of cuppas.
*
“Look Connor, it’s just so we can investigate.”
It had started well he’d managed to keep it together and answer the questions he was being asked. The sweating started a little later on when they asked if they could search his locker. He’d agreed but then remembered the laptop Becker had borrowed for him, hidden on one of the shelves behind his labelled door.
He supposed Becker could vouch for him on that one, there was nothing but some bad coding and failed programming to find anyway. They could search his history, check his cookies and there was nothing more than just proof that there was no place for him in the ARC anymore.
“Investigate what? I’m not the mole. Jesus Christ. What, you think I am going to start selling stories to the papers. What would I get from that?!”
They were sat looking over the menagerie now, looking down at what creatures were left and new ones he’d never met before.
“I don’t, but some people just need proof that you’re not the culprit, that’s all.” Becker had made them a warm drink, and Connor slowly sipped at the sugary tea.
“Guilty until proven innocent? I’ve lost too many people to turn my back on this place, Becker. You know that. Tom, Stephen, Cutter, Abby. I don’t understand how people could think it was me.” Connor didn’t know where to look but avoided meeting Becker’s eyes and settled for an ankylosaurus in the enclosures below. As stuck as he once was but with a lot less space and hardly any light.
Abby would hate it.
“That’s why, though Connor. Look at what you’ve lost. Why would you want to keep working here, after everything?”
“I could ask you the same question. Five years you waited. I might never have made it back, but you were still here. You didn’t give up on Danny, either. You lost Sarah. Abby. You were there when Cutter died. No one is pointing the finger at you though, are they?” He looked at him this time and regretted it. Becker’s eyes were filled with pity, something he didn’t want or asked for and his brows bowed with concern.
“No. It’s just -”
“I know!” Connor interrupted, sharp and loud without meaning to. “I know.” He started, quieter this time. “It’s all a little coincidental, the stories started leaking right after I came back, I have probable cause, I get it. All I want to do is help stop the anomalies, end this mess. That’s all I want, Becker, you have to believe me.”
At that the door opened, Jess pausing between stepping inside and staying out in the corridor. She didn’t say anything at first and Connor’s eyes darted between hers and Becker’s, trying to read their expressions for a hint of what was happening.
“Jess?” Becker reminded her that she hadn’t said anything yet, just stood and worried them both.
“Um, sorry. Lester would like to speak to you.” She finally spoke. “Connor. Sorry, in his office.”
Connor put the cup of tea onto the table, almost thankful he didn’t have to finish it, and walked towards the door. Jess didn’t move, her eyes still locked with Becker’s.
“Excuse me, Jess.”
“Oh yes, sorry.”
She shifted to the side, giving him enough room to just squeeze past and she reached for his shirt and pulled him into a hug. Connor’s hands hovered for a moment, not used to having arms wrapped around his back and for a moment he wasn’t worried about what he might be walking towards. She pulled away and pecked his cheek with her lips before rushing towards Becker.
He didn’t turn to look at them before leaving towards the place he’d been summoned, scared of what would meet him in the office where most words were muted to those outside but could see everything by looking in.
Lester had his back to the door as he looked out towards the Anomaly Detector. Connor couldn’t see the man’s hands but imagined one holding an elbow while the other covered his mouth.
He didn’t know whether to knock or walk in, not wanting to do either. Deciding Lester already knew he was on his way, he opened the door.
“You wanted to see me?”
Lester turned on his heels, proving Connor right about the placement of his hands. His tie was straighter than it had been for a while and he’d finally decided to wear the suit jacket that had been hanging on his chair too often.
“Sit down.”
There was a feeling in his stomach he hadn’t felt in a while, one of nerves and hunger and everything in between. He was innocent but everything suddenly made him feel guilty, as if he deserved the inquiry into his loyalty, the gossiping whispers and silent hugs.
As he did as he was told, he saw his laptop, a cardboard box and a phone piled on top of each other. He tried to think of their significance or as to why Lester suddenly let his desk get cluttered if it wasn’t something to do with what they were about to discuss.
“Recognise them, do you?” Lester sunk into his chair with a weight of anger.
“The laptop, yeah. Not the phone.”
“And the box?”
“No, not that either. Is it empty?”
Lester scoffed. It wasn’t a stupid question, not for someone who hadn’t seen it before. But Lester had reason to think Connor had.
“No, it’s not empty. Take a look.”
He leaned across the desk, slowly, reaching towards the perfectly square box. The flaps were already open at the top so he used them pull it towards him. It was a shell, an ammonite. Not a fossil. It looked like it had been pulled out of the Cretaceous seas but its arms were limp and its shell completely dry.
“Recognise it now?” Lester questioned with his arms folded as if to stop himself from slamming his hands on the desk in front of him.
“No.” Connor reiterated.
“Well, that’s interesting. These were all retrieved from your locker?”
“Mine?” His voiced squeaked as he slid the box onto the desk. “They’re not mine. Well, the laptop I know about. But this and the phone, they’re not mine.”
“They were in your locker, Temple.”
“So you keep saying, but they’re not mine.”
“What were you going to use it for?” Lester pressed, reaching out to snatch the box off the table and the dead creature rattled inside. “Evidence I suppose.” His voice was unnervingly still, much calmer than Connor’s was.
Surely they knew him better than that. The old Connor was still there, somewhere, and they were all slowly finding him. Even he would catch a reflection in a window or pass the mirror in the morning and not recognise the person that stared back at him. Long hair with a beard he hadn’t yet learned to tame and deep, broken eyes that looked black instead of the glimpse of copper that would shine before it all went wrong.
“Lester…” That’s all he could manage. Almost a beg to be believed without being able to muster enough courage for more words, not enough breaths for his excuses. Connor wasn’t sure if he was angry or scared, but knew he was completely lost.
“You know, Connor, we were so happy to have you home. Why did you do it?” Lester’s voice almost seemed calmer than it had been before. It was lower now though, as if he struggled to believe what he might be saying.
Connor shook his head, his eyebrows so high on his forehead that they hurt. His lips parted ever so slightly and they were so dry, he went to swallow but there was nothing there.
He thought of Abby suddenly and Fern. Then Becker and Jess. Then Danny.
“Lester, it wasn’t me.”
“This phone,” Lester lifted the mobile that sat on top of the borrowed laptop, “has texts and calls to various journalists. We can only imagine what was said on those calls, but the texts tell us everything we need to know.”
“It’s not me.” Connor’s voice was barely a whisper and he wondered if Lester even heard him at all.
“You’re done here, Temple.”
Connor couldn’t stop shaking his head as his eyes welled up. The side of his tongue pressed against his teeth as if it had started to swell and blocked out any words he tried to say. His ears echoed the words for him, just to remind him of what he was losing. Again.
“Quinn will escort you out of the building. And Fern of course.”
His head was heavy as they walked through the corridors and people stopped to look at them. He felt Danny’s hand brush against his elbow, not wanting to grab his arm but making sure his presence was known.
Connor carried Fern in his other arm and she curled the strands of loose hair by his ear around her finger, oblivious to it all but knowing something was wrong with her dad. He’d often drifted to sleep in the Cretaceous from the same motion.
“I’m sorry it came to this.” Danny said as they reached the carpark where Becker waited by his car. “I know you’ve been through a lot.”
Connor was stuck on what to say, not sure if he could even believe himself when he managed his pathetic pleas. So, he just didn’t speak.
Becker opened the door for him to step inside with Fern, but Connor was the one that shut it closed behind him with the tint of the window hiding him from the pity of Danny and disappointment of the soldier.
A part of him wished that anomaly never reopened.
Jess on the other hand didn’t seem too pleased and told him she’d much prefer it if they stayed a little longer, they were just finding their feet and she didn’t want him taking too much on too soon. But he felt at home there as the prickly shrubs scratched at his ankles and the birds sang louder than the distant sound of traffic.
The caravan had seen better days, granted, but it was a roof over their heads and they had managed with much less for so long. They had a room each and Fern could scribble as much as she’d like on the wall without Jess running after her with a damp cloth.
There were beds and he promised he would try and sleep in this one or at least attempt a nap on the long sofa that stretched along the side of their living-dining-kitchen combo. He knew Becker had found him sleeping on the floor in their spare room a couple of mornings with his knees probably tucked up to his chin and an arm stretched towards the bed. The only sign of the soldier being there was the steaming cup of coffee left by his head.
Connor was glad he’d never asked about it but thought that if anyone would ever understand it, it would be Becker.
They were clearing the path now, Jess disinfecting the caravan and Fern rescuing any insect they unearthed and finding them a new home on their plot.
The ARC had become tense during the last few weeks, the newspapers suddenly paying attention to their every move. Journalists running stories, some of them true and they hoped no one believed them while others were lies and Lester claimed defamation. Jess was forced to work from the ARC while Becker and his team were dispatched from their homes to avoid being tailed by an eager reporter.
Connor tried to help where he could, doing whatever he was trusted with but it was mostly making brews and looking after Fern. Jess would call him a “lifesaver” whenever he delivered a fresh cup of tea but she hardly ever made it to the bottom of the mug and he could never tell if he was just bad at making them or if she was too easily distracted.
When he stayed at their flat, it was often the same but Becker finished his. They’d prep ingredients for dinner and practice writing with Fern. Becker had sneaked home a laptop for Connor to get back to grips with what he seemed to have forgotten during the five years on the other side of the anomaly but he was under strict instructions never to let Jess find out.
This was the first time in at least a month they’d all spent time outdoors together.
“Not a bad place is it?” Becker chimed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand as he leant against his pitchfork.
“No, I like it.”
The caravan had streaks of green running down the side of it, algae stains from rain and wilderness.
“Bit of a commute though, to work.” Becker reminded, one of the cons Jess had listed when they were searching.
“We’ll manage. After all, it’s Fern first, then me, then you remember? Lester’s orders.” Connor had welcomed it at first but with the talks of finding Fern a school left him wondering what he’d end up doing with his time. Cups of tea and coffee?
“I think you’re there now, with driving I mean. There were moments I thought I’d never make it out alive. I might even go as far as saying you’re a better driver now than you ever were before.”
He laughed, a light scoff in his throat but it was genuine. Wasn’t forced or fake, it was real and there had been more and more of them as the weeks went on. Danny had started to joke around him again and Jess allowed a few more genres of film at move night.
“Connor, please tell me you brought a kettle with you?” Jess called from the caravan, peeking her head through the door. “Oh Fern, that’s a lovely worm, what are you going to do with that?”
“Save him.” Fern said, holding it between a finger and thumb with just enough pressure to stop it from wriggling free.
“Ah, I see. Connor? Kettle?” Jess smiled.
“I don’t think I did, sorry.” Connor’s hands were covered in cuts just like his ankles, tiny grazes from the waste around them.
“Ooh, I could make a fire.” Fern suggested placing the worm in the palm of her free hand.
“Nope, no, that won’t be necessary. Thank you though, Fern.” Jess disappeared back into the caravan.
They got back to clearing the overgrowth only for a little while before Becker paused again. “Listen, Connor. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Okay, go ahead.” Connor carried on scraping his pitchfork to loosen stubborn shrubs and ivy stems, knowing that conversations like this one never really led anywhere good.
“These leaks at work, there’ll be an investigation.”
“Makes sense, yeah.” He wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing anymore, trying to focus on Becker’s words and block out Fern’s singing and the sound of an aeroplane flying far above them.
“They’re going to question you. Just to cover all bases, you know.” Becker didn’t sound sure but Connor went along with it.
“Sure. Makes sense.”
And it did make sense, he just didn’t like it. He had heard some whispers by the lockers a few days ago about whether he could be trusted but he managed to shrug them from his thoughts, but it wouldn’t have been so easy if he thought people would actually believe them. Whoever they were anyway. The medic he’d seen before, but the other was a civilian. Admin, maybe.
“It doesn’t mean they think it’s -”
“It’s fine.” Becker went to open his mouth but Connor continued. “I’m fine.”
They didn’t stay too much longer clearing and cleaning, they headed back to the flat for a round of cuppas.
*
“Look Connor, it’s just so we can investigate.”
It had started well he’d managed to keep it together and answer the questions he was being asked. The sweating started a little later on when they asked if they could search his locker. He’d agreed but then remembered the laptop Becker had borrowed for him, hidden on one of the shelves behind his labelled door.
He supposed Becker could vouch for him on that one, there was nothing but some bad coding and failed programming to find anyway. They could search his history, check his cookies and there was nothing more than just proof that there was no place for him in the ARC anymore.
“Investigate what? I’m not the mole. Jesus Christ. What, you think I am going to start selling stories to the papers. What would I get from that?!”
They were sat looking over the menagerie now, looking down at what creatures were left and new ones he’d never met before.
“I don’t, but some people just need proof that you’re not the culprit, that’s all.” Becker had made them a warm drink, and Connor slowly sipped at the sugary tea.
“Guilty until proven innocent? I’ve lost too many people to turn my back on this place, Becker. You know that. Tom, Stephen, Cutter, Abby. I don’t understand how people could think it was me.” Connor didn’t know where to look but avoided meeting Becker’s eyes and settled for an ankylosaurus in the enclosures below. As stuck as he once was but with a lot less space and hardly any light.
Abby would hate it.
“That’s why, though Connor. Look at what you’ve lost. Why would you want to keep working here, after everything?”
“I could ask you the same question. Five years you waited. I might never have made it back, but you were still here. You didn’t give up on Danny, either. You lost Sarah. Abby. You were there when Cutter died. No one is pointing the finger at you though, are they?” He looked at him this time and regretted it. Becker’s eyes were filled with pity, something he didn’t want or asked for and his brows bowed with concern.
“No. It’s just -”
“I know!” Connor interrupted, sharp and loud without meaning to. “I know.” He started, quieter this time. “It’s all a little coincidental, the stories started leaking right after I came back, I have probable cause, I get it. All I want to do is help stop the anomalies, end this mess. That’s all I want, Becker, you have to believe me.”
At that the door opened, Jess pausing between stepping inside and staying out in the corridor. She didn’t say anything at first and Connor’s eyes darted between hers and Becker’s, trying to read their expressions for a hint of what was happening.
“Jess?” Becker reminded her that she hadn’t said anything yet, just stood and worried them both.
“Um, sorry. Lester would like to speak to you.” She finally spoke. “Connor. Sorry, in his office.”
Connor put the cup of tea onto the table, almost thankful he didn’t have to finish it, and walked towards the door. Jess didn’t move, her eyes still locked with Becker’s.
“Excuse me, Jess.”
“Oh yes, sorry.”
She shifted to the side, giving him enough room to just squeeze past and she reached for his shirt and pulled him into a hug. Connor’s hands hovered for a moment, not used to having arms wrapped around his back and for a moment he wasn’t worried about what he might be walking towards. She pulled away and pecked his cheek with her lips before rushing towards Becker.
He didn’t turn to look at them before leaving towards the place he’d been summoned, scared of what would meet him in the office where most words were muted to those outside but could see everything by looking in.
Lester had his back to the door as he looked out towards the Anomaly Detector. Connor couldn’t see the man’s hands but imagined one holding an elbow while the other covered his mouth.
He didn’t know whether to knock or walk in, not wanting to do either. Deciding Lester already knew he was on his way, he opened the door.
“You wanted to see me?”
Lester turned on his heels, proving Connor right about the placement of his hands. His tie was straighter than it had been for a while and he’d finally decided to wear the suit jacket that had been hanging on his chair too often.
“Sit down.”
There was a feeling in his stomach he hadn’t felt in a while, one of nerves and hunger and everything in between. He was innocent but everything suddenly made him feel guilty, as if he deserved the inquiry into his loyalty, the gossiping whispers and silent hugs.
As he did as he was told, he saw his laptop, a cardboard box and a phone piled on top of each other. He tried to think of their significance or as to why Lester suddenly let his desk get cluttered if it wasn’t something to do with what they were about to discuss.
“Recognise them, do you?” Lester sunk into his chair with a weight of anger.
“The laptop, yeah. Not the phone.”
“And the box?”
“No, not that either. Is it empty?”
Lester scoffed. It wasn’t a stupid question, not for someone who hadn’t seen it before. But Lester had reason to think Connor had.
“No, it’s not empty. Take a look.”
He leaned across the desk, slowly, reaching towards the perfectly square box. The flaps were already open at the top so he used them pull it towards him. It was a shell, an ammonite. Not a fossil. It looked like it had been pulled out of the Cretaceous seas but its arms were limp and its shell completely dry.
“Recognise it now?” Lester questioned with his arms folded as if to stop himself from slamming his hands on the desk in front of him.
“No.” Connor reiterated.
“Well, that’s interesting. These were all retrieved from your locker?”
“Mine?” His voiced squeaked as he slid the box onto the desk. “They’re not mine. Well, the laptop I know about. But this and the phone, they’re not mine.”
“They were in your locker, Temple.”
“So you keep saying, but they’re not mine.”
“What were you going to use it for?” Lester pressed, reaching out to snatch the box off the table and the dead creature rattled inside. “Evidence I suppose.” His voice was unnervingly still, much calmer than Connor’s was.
Surely they knew him better than that. The old Connor was still there, somewhere, and they were all slowly finding him. Even he would catch a reflection in a window or pass the mirror in the morning and not recognise the person that stared back at him. Long hair with a beard he hadn’t yet learned to tame and deep, broken eyes that looked black instead of the glimpse of copper that would shine before it all went wrong.
“Lester…” That’s all he could manage. Almost a beg to be believed without being able to muster enough courage for more words, not enough breaths for his excuses. Connor wasn’t sure if he was angry or scared, but knew he was completely lost.
“You know, Connor, we were so happy to have you home. Why did you do it?” Lester’s voice almost seemed calmer than it had been before. It was lower now though, as if he struggled to believe what he might be saying.
Connor shook his head, his eyebrows so high on his forehead that they hurt. His lips parted ever so slightly and they were so dry, he went to swallow but there was nothing there.
He thought of Abby suddenly and Fern. Then Becker and Jess. Then Danny.
“Lester, it wasn’t me.”
“This phone,” Lester lifted the mobile that sat on top of the borrowed laptop, “has texts and calls to various journalists. We can only imagine what was said on those calls, but the texts tell us everything we need to know.”
“It’s not me.” Connor’s voice was barely a whisper and he wondered if Lester even heard him at all.
“You’re done here, Temple.”
Connor couldn’t stop shaking his head as his eyes welled up. The side of his tongue pressed against his teeth as if it had started to swell and blocked out any words he tried to say. His ears echoed the words for him, just to remind him of what he was losing. Again.
“Quinn will escort you out of the building. And Fern of course.”
His head was heavy as they walked through the corridors and people stopped to look at them. He felt Danny’s hand brush against his elbow, not wanting to grab his arm but making sure his presence was known.
Connor carried Fern in his other arm and she curled the strands of loose hair by his ear around her finger, oblivious to it all but knowing something was wrong with her dad. He’d often drifted to sleep in the Cretaceous from the same motion.
“I’m sorry it came to this.” Danny said as they reached the carpark where Becker waited by his car. “I know you’ve been through a lot.”
Connor was stuck on what to say, not sure if he could even believe himself when he managed his pathetic pleas. So, he just didn’t speak.
Becker opened the door for him to step inside with Fern, but Connor was the one that shut it closed behind him with the tint of the window hiding him from the pity of Danny and disappointment of the soldier.
A part of him wished that anomaly never reopened.