Free After Me Comes the Flood by Sarah Perry

understand. Harmless, but one never knows where these things lead. In my day we sang with the children “ Little sins become big sins, and big sins kill ” – just like that, can you imagine – big sins kill !’
    ‘I’ve no right to ask you, I know – but I’d like to understand at least what I’ve seen and heard since I came – what is St Jude’s? What does it mean? I thought at first of a church but can’t seem to make it fit.’
    ‘Ah…’ There was another of those slight changes of air, and Elijah sat a little straighter. He pursed his mouth in a gesture of distaste, drained his glass, and set it down. ‘Not a church, or not quite: a private hospital, a – what do they call it these days? – a psychiatric hospital, a convalescent home, an institute, a retreat. I was there first, biding my time, waiting for it all to pass. Quiet it was, at first; routine, order, soft-soled shoes. Then Alex came, not in his right mind. There’d never been anyone quite like him before, not in my time at least. A deep sadness in him, an anger even; they couldn’t contain it at first. And then the women came – I remember thinking it was like Mary visiting Christ in his tomb. Hester first, with Clare always at her side, and not long after that Eve also, though she looked so different then, and wore her hair so long she could wrap it round her like a scarf.’
    ‘Months ago? Years ago – weeks?’
    ‘I don’t remember. Autumn was coming – a year ago, I suppose. Then Walker came – something to do with the finance of the place; I never asked. And something altered, and in the end every boundary was crossed, every mark was overstepped, and we all left together – Alex, Clare, Eve and me. It was Hester’s doing, as things so often are. It’s a lonely place this, with all the rooms empty, and she told them “Send others, if they need it; if they’re not ready to be alone.” Between you and me, I think she’d hit on a way of saving her soul. But no-one ever came, and we never mentioned St Jude’s again. Then a month ago I took a call from Jon, and said: do come, do. There’s no harm in coming here.’
    He shook his head, and left a quiet opening into which John – leaning forward, imagining a confessional grille suspended in the air between them – put all the events of the day before. Elijah greeted the tale without surprise or censure, nodding now and then, and murmuring ‘Yes, I see’ or ‘Yes, quite so’; and when John had finished he said, ‘I consider it none of my business whatever. Stay or go as you please, and I’ll say nothing. If asked, well – I can try my hand at a lie.’
    Muddy with heat, John stirred in his chair; a new thought had come to him, and with great difficulty he forced it on to his tongue. ‘Then – is this why no-one ever asks me where I came from, or what I’m doing here?’
    Elijah, standing with a groan, gave a smile of mischief and delight. ‘Oh, they think you came from there too. They all just assumed you were mad.’

 
    III
    It’s very late or very early, depending which way up you hold the day, and I’ve been down at the reservoir with Alex. He told me to wait for him after we’d eaten, and I sat till after midnight on the terrace, drinking the coffee Hester gave me (she makes it bitterly thick – no wonder I can’t sleep), watching bats come over the wall from the forest and listening to Eve play in the room behind me. She’d opened the windows wide and I could smell the lilies dying in their vases. By then the heat had made everyone tired and listless and no-one seemed to feel much like talking. Mostly they left me alone, although once someone put their hand on my shoulder on their way down through the trees. Clare sat cross-legged next to me for a long time, showing me how to blow a blade of grass like an oboe reed. I pretended I didn’t know how, and let her teach me, all the while thinking: tomorrow I’ll leave and be forgotten by the time the