Backwards Into Hell

Part One: The Lodge

Anais' Diary 

Monday 25th October, Before Sunrise

As Darren's heavy shoes clipped down the ladder, the thought of what he would do thundered through my head.

Why didn't I have it, you ask? Well, I'd pin the blame on the regulators & the stiff-lipped politicians. The rules make it impossible to buy the stuff in any sort of bulk even from our mainland distributors. The lack of product wasn't my fault.

But I was going to take the fall anyway.

Chef was still in the kitchen. God, I wish I were her. It's so easy, her job. She makes the food & all she has to do is keep schtum about one certain secret passage. On top of all that, she makes just as much money as I do!

Darren better not cut my pay over this. I need the cash for Mum & Jasmine so they have the chance to make something of themselves, unlike the rest of us. We're all lazy, good-for-nothings who didn't realise the chances we had until it was too late.

But with Darren, I have the opportunity to change that.

I've got it all planned out. Gradually, I've been taking a bigger share, & doing a little more work. Darren's smart but I've learned all I can from him, &, if I survive, I'll take over. I deserve that much, right?

Friday.

That's when I'll kill him.

Finally, Darren's footsteps stopped as he reached the floor & he watched me with a glint in his eye as his hair flopped over his face. He gets all the looks, all the money, everything.

'How much did you get?'

'Five boxes.' You don't lie to Darren.

'Five?'

I nodded & stared at my grubby shoes.

'Where?' His tone was firmer, his broad smile gone.

I took him over to worktops. The basement was a huge lab, purpose-built for what we needed to do, & on top of one of the worktops, were five, miserable boxes of Sudafed. It should've been twenty.

'Who's responsible for this?'

My hands shook. It wasn't my fault, was it? Sure, I took a few more days to let them know what we needed, but they hadn't delivered quickly enough.

'The distributors. They're running late but trust me, they'll have it in a few days.'

Darren ran his fingers through his perfect hair.

'We've got two days.' He paused. 'Two fucking days!'

I stepped back on instinct.

'We can fix this,' I tried.

He scoffed.

'Let me talk to them. I'll get it by tomorrow.'

Even if I have to visit every damn pharmacy in Scotland myself.

I shook as Darren made his decision. The last person who'd lied to him had ended up in a ditch on the west coast.

'Fine,' he said & my heart fluttered. 'But if they don't come round, I'll deal with them.'

I nodded as a hollow thump came from the kitchen.

'What was that?' Darren asked.

I shrugged. Did it matter?

'Whatever. Let's get to work.'

Darren grabbed a gas mask from under a counter and thrust it into my chest.

After that, we worked through the night. Mix, distil, mix, distil, wait. Easy. Even a kid could manage it, & once you got good, you could start selling. Some of the ingredients are hard to source but with Darren at the helm, everything runs smoothly. Most of the time.

We finished at about two, using all the Sudafed, or Pseudoephedrine, we had, and headed to bed. Harriet had gone home, and I went to my room.

Now, while everyone else sleeps, I have to call the distributors. I'm trying to think how Darren would do it: how he'd scare them into working their lazy asses off to get it out here in time, but my hands are shaking. I'm not cut out for this.

I tried to call them before, but just as it connected the signal dropped out. It's still not working and if it doesn't come back before morning, I'm fucked.

He can't find out I lied. He can't. As long as he doesn't figure it out, we'll pull through, Darren & me.

We'll be fine.

Until Friday.