Anna carefully manoeuvred Ben’s battered pram down the steps leading to the high street, and followed the road round until she reached Angler’s Way, where the Bright Days coffee shop was situated, and where she was due to meet Maria. It didn’t feel like a bright day. It felt like a horrible, black, gloomy day, even if the sun was doing its best to shine through the clouds. Peter had left early that morning, had said nothing about the night before, had given her no reassurance that everything would be OK, that things would return to normal. Pip had assured her that he would be watching closely, that she shouldn’t worry. But she did worry; she worried all the time. She felt like a balloon, felt as if Peter was losing his grip on her, that any minute now she’d be floating away into oblivion, alone and helpless in a never-ending sky.
As she entered the coffee shop, she saw Maria sitting at a small table in the window and she waved, relieved to see a friendly face, a face that didn’t seem disappointed in her or angry for no reason. Maria immediately stood up and helped her navigate Ben through the closely clustered tables, then smiled benevolently at him. ‘Such a handsome young man,’ she said sadly. ‘Such a shame he won’t have any friends to play with.’
The smile on Maria’s face was so sweet, so warm, and Anna felt her eyes well up. She longed to talk to someone about Peter, to hear a comforting voice telling her that his anger, his words, had meant nothing, but instead she wiped the tears away briskly and sat down, ordering a cup of sweet tea for herself and a glass of milk for Ben.
‘You know, I am so very grateful you came,’ Maria said, once the waiter had moved away. ‘You’ve been through such a lot already. There’s no reason why you should have to worry about other Surpluses.’
Anna shook her head. ‘Of course I have to,’ she said firmly, her confidence slowly returning. ‘Peter and I were lucky. But there are lots of Surpluses who aren’t so lucky. Who are still in Halls, who . . .’ She winced as she spoke; she could almost smell the stale, institutional air of Grange Hall.
‘Who need our help,’ Maria whispered, then moved closer to Anna. ‘What I want to ask you, Anna . . . you can say no. I want to make that very clear. I don’t expect anything from you – you’ve been through so much and I know you’ve got a great deal on your plate, with Ben and everything.’
Anna nodded seriously, and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stick up slightly as they always did when she knew something important was going to happen.
‘The thing is, Anna, there are children being hidden all across the country – by their parents, by relatives, by sympathisers. But it’s getting more and more difficult.’
‘You’re . . . you’re hiding children? Surpluses, you mean?’
Maria nodded. ‘We prefer to describe them as children and young people,’ she said cautiously.
‘Like my parents,’ Anna said breathlessly. ‘Are you . . . do you work for the Underground?’
Maria frowned. ‘No, Anna. We . . . we prefer to keep ourselves separate from the Underground.’
‘But the Underground could help you! They helped me and Peter. They helped my parents. Really, I could make contact for you . . . if you want?’
Maria shook her head. ‘Anna, when you’re involved in something as dangerous as this, it’s important to keep the number of people involved very small. It’s just a matter of trust.’
‘You don’t trust the Underground? But that’s silly. They’re the only people you can trust.’
Maria’s mouth twisted slightly. ‘Perhaps. And I know they helped you and your parents. But other Surpluses in their protection have been found. I’m sure they have their priorities, but we’re not interested in revolution. We just want to protect the children.’
Anna felt her chest constrict. ‘You think the Underground don’t?’
Maria bit her lip. ‘I just think that sometimes it’s safer to act alone.’
Anna took a few seconds to digest this information.
‘And what is it you’re doing? What can I do to help?’
Maria looked around furtively; the coffee shop was full, but no one appeared to be paying them any attention.
‘We want to break into the Surplus Halls,’ she said, when she seemed satisfied that no one was listening. ‘We want to help the children in them escape.’
Anna’s eyes widened and her heart was pounding in her chest. ‘You want to break into Grange Hall? It’s impossible. There’re guards, Catchers . . .’
‘I know that, Anna. I do. But we thought . . . if you could get out, then we can get in. Create a diversion. Then, when everyone’s looking the other way, we’ll get the Surpluses out.’
‘Get them out?’ Anna’s head filled suddenly with images of Grange Hall, with the cold, bleak corridors, the small dormitories, the low ceilings, and she shuddered. ‘But . . . but . . .’
‘We need plans, layouts; we need to know how you got out, Anna,’ Maria was saying.
Anna shook herself. ‘You’ll never manage it,’ she whispered. ‘They’ll catch you. They’ll send you to prison.’
‘Perhaps. But that’s a chance we have to take. Someone’s got to do something, Anna. Even if we fail, people will hear about what we did. The Authorities will realise they can’t ignore us.’
Anna took a deep breath. Maria was right. It was always worth trying. Peter had taught her that – if she hadn’t believed him, she’d still be behind the walls of Grange Hall herself. ‘Peter had a map,’ she said tentatively. ‘From the Underground. We got out through Solitary. In the basement. But they’ll have closed it now. The tunnel, I mean.’
‘Of course, but that’s still of great use. Do you know how they got the map? Does Peter still have it?’
‘I don’t know about how they got it. Someone at the Authorities, maybe. I think Peter’s still got it, though. I’m sure he has.’ Anna looked up at Maria anxiously. ‘But where will you take the Surpluses? How will you keep them safe?’
‘The children, you mean,’ Maria corrected her, leaning over Ben’s pram and stroking his head. ‘People will look after them. People like us.’ She stood up to go. ‘Thank you, Anna. I knew that you were good and courageous. As soon as I saw your face, I knew you were someone I could trust. I’ll be in touch, and until then, you look after this little man, won’t you?’
She pressed Anna’s hand, then turned and left, leaving Anna staring after her. It was madness, she thought to herself. You couldn’t just break into Grange Hall. You couldn’t get five hundred Surpluses out secretly and keep them hidden.
But then again, she’d told Peter it was futile trying to escape, and they’d done it, hadn’t they? Slowly, she picked up her tea and took a sip, wondering how to mention the map to Peter, bearing in mind his present mood. She decided that perhaps she wouldn’t say anything for the time being; for now she’d keep Maria’s plan to herself.