Chapter Forty-One Zig
Zig sat on the bench at the top of the rise and looked down over the Chalice Well gardens. The trees might have been bare but somehow there was still a rare sense of being among nature, in the midst of living things, here. Well, rare for him, at any rate.
After he’d left Esme and her confusing job offer, Zig had wandered aimlessly for a bit, until he found his feet leading him towards the tor path.
Apparently, his subconscious wanted to talk to someone.
And . . . it probably wasn’t wrong. Moping around town on his own until it was time to go to work wasn’t gonna solve anything, so maybe talking would help.
Not exactly about Ani’s phone call and what it might mean, but .
. . just talking to someone. Someone like Kai, who didn’t judge and didn’t make conversation like it was a prize fight.
Zig kinda liked Esme, and he definitely respected her, but he felt like he needed to bring his A game whenever they had a chat.
The cold wind was making him regret chucking a perfectly good cup of coffee, and Kai could probably do with something to warm them up, so Zig backtracked to the nearest coffee shop before heading on up to the tor.
He told himself all the way Kai wouldn’t be there, but when he got to the gate, there they were, bundled up in their sleeping bag as usual.
“All right, mate?” Zig called, relief making him grin.
Kai smiled in answer. “I’m good. You?”
Zig made a face. “Peachy. You like lattes? Not got any milk allergies or whatever? I’ve got black if you’d rather.”
“Latte, please. I need the calories. Thanks.” Kai took the cup Zig held out and warmed their hands on it.
Zig sank down into a cross-legged position next to them, the ground under his bum like a block of ice.
Probably seeping damp into his jeans, too, but they were black enough that at least it wouldn’t look like he’d wet himself when he got up.
“Bit of luck, you being here, and all. I’d have felt a right muppet having to drink two ventis on me own. ”
“Lose my number, did you?” Kai asked, eyebrow quirked.
“No, I— Ah, shit.” Just call him bloody Kermit. “Could have texted you, couldn’t I? Asked what you wanted. I am really not thinking straight today.”
“Got something on your mind?”
Zig took a sip of his black Americano. It tasted bitter. Funny how quick he’d got used to having milk again. “Yeah. Kinda.”
“Let me know if you want to talk about it. Or we can talk about something else.” Kai shrugged. “Or sit and drink coffee and not talk at all.”
A couple in high-tech hiking gear reached them and sent a dirty look their way before walking on, ignoring the mostly empty margarine tub Kai had out with Thank You scrawled on it in Sharpie.
Zig coughed. “Wankers,” he muttered.
Kai giggled.
A lady in patchwork trousers stopped to drop in a couple of quid. She gave Zig a sharp look. “You ought to wrap up warmer. There’s nothing of you. You know you can get warm clothes at the shelter, don’t you?”
“Uh, cheers. I’m good, ta,” Zig said, embarrassed. Mind, it was a bit nippy up here.
“You go to the shelter,” she admonished him, like she was worried it hadn’t sunk into his obviously thick head the first time, and strode away up the hill.
Kai was laughing into their scarf again.
Zig rolled his eyes. “Think I’d better leg it before she comes back down. She might not take no for an answer next time. Hey, are you all right? Keeping warm enough?”
Kai gave him a side-eye. “I’m fine. Some of us know when it’s time to go to the shelter.”
Zig flipped them a middle finger, feeling better already.
“So where are you off to after this?” Kai asked. “Not up the tor, if you’re hiding from the patchwork-trousered philanthropist.”
Zig grinned. “The what now? Have you been reading books or something?”
“You oughtta try it sometime. Broadens your horizons, and some of ’em have pictures in. And it’s warm in the library, and you don’t have to buy stuff to stay.”
“Oi, I read books. I’ve been to both the libraries in town.
” Zig sighed. “Probably end up back in one of ’em after this.
That’s the trouble with bar work: you get your free time while everyone else is working.
There’s only so many times a bloke can wander round the shops before they start to think he’s casing the joint. ” He huffed a bitter laugh.
Kai gave him a long look. “If you’ve got the money, you could go to the Chalice Well. It’s quiet there. S’posed to be really spiritual.”
“If it’s spiritual, how come it costs money?”
Kai shrugged. “It’s a garden, innit? Needs upkeep. Spirituality isn’t going to weed the beds. Or clean the loos.”
“Don’t they have, like, acolytes to do that?”
“It’s not a religion. It’s a peaceful place you can go for reflection. And drink the waters, and wash your feet in them. If you want.”
“You’ve been, then?”
“Once. When I first got here.” Kai smiled crookedly. “When I still had some spare cash. It was nice.”
“All right, I’ll bite. You wanna come with? I’ll pay for you.”
Kai pursed their lips, like they were thinking it over. “Nah,” they said at last. “Better if you go on your own. Then you can concentrate on letting the quiet in.”
“You’re sure?” Zig stood and stretched, stiff from sitting on the cold ground. “How much is it to get in this place?”
“Five pounds, when I went.”
Zig nodded, and pulled out a tenner. “Here you go. In case you want to go some other time.”
Kai didn’t reach for it. “That’s too much.”
“No, it ain’t. I’m earning, and the daft bastard I’m living with won’t let me pay rent. Take it.”
“Thanks.” Kai squirrelled the money away inside the sleeping bag. “You take care, okay? Hope you like the well.”
“Cheers.” Zig turned to go, then, recalling his unsent text, turned back. “Kai . . . you ever worry your past’s gonna catch up with you?”
“My past don’t care enough to catch up with me.”
Ouch. “That’s a bit shit.”
“Or, looked at another way, pretty lucky. Sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”
Zig shook his head. “Think I’ll try that quiet you mentioned. See if I can get me head straight. Cheers, though. I’ll see you, okay?”
“See ya,” Kai said.
Zig walked down the path feeling a tiny bit lighter, to Kai’s shout of, “Try the water, it’s lovely!”
The Chalice Well turned out to be literally about a minute’s walk from the bottom of the path up the tor. Zig wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Was it like one of those mysterious magic shops in books, that only appeared when you really needed them?
Nah, couldn’t be. They’d miss out on all the tourist trade that way.
Even on this freezing December day, there were a few people waiting in line to pay their money and get spiritual. Zig joined the queue, which moved slower than he’d expected. Maybe that was all part of the experience—getting out of the pace of modern life. Or maybe they weren’t all that efficient.
When he got to the front and paid over his fiver, Zig found that part of the reason for the wait was the mini-lecture on turning off all phones and other devices so as not to disturb the airwaves.
Which didn’t quite make sense to him—surely the air was full of radio waves whether anyone was receiving them or not?
—but he dutifully switched off his phone.
In any case, Si was working, and Kai knew where he was.
Nobody else was likely to try to call him.
At least, nobody he wanted to hear from.
Zig wandered down the path and into the gardens. Down a short slope, there was a man-made pool shaped like a Venn diagram with two overlapping circles. Water fed into it from a sort of rockery, with a staircase of wide, flat stones for the stream to trickle down.
There were people sitting on a bench nearby, talking softly as though they didn’t want to disturb anyone listening to the hypnotic sound of the running water. Zig stood there for a moment, taking it in. Was this the peacefulness Kai had been on about? There was plenty more of the place to see.
The water from the pools ran out through a shallow, rust-coloured channel to another small pool and emptied into a drain shaped like a leaf.
There was a crescent-shaped stone in the middle, and someone had placed acorns and pine cones on it, like it was some kind of woodland altar.
Or a food bank for squirrels, maybe. Did squirrels sleep all through the winter, or did they wake up every so often for snacks? Zig had no clue.
Walking on, through mostly bare trees and empty flower beds, Zig tried to picture the place in summer.
It’d be an explosion of colour and growth, most likely.
The lawns were well-kept, and the beds weed-free, although it was winter.
He found himself liking the barren look it had now, though.
The land didn’t feel dead—only asleep, and under it all was a sense of potential, waiting for the warmer weather to wake it up and bring it to fullest life.
Zig blinked. Huh. Look at you, being all poetical.
Kai would kill themself laughing. And Si .
. . Si would know what he meant. Zig was sure of that.
The bloke who’d researched an author he’d never read so he could take Zig on a tour—yeah, he’d understand, all right.
He waited until the couple in front of him had moved on before approaching the spring that trickled down a rough-built stone wall, even rustier than the pools by the entrance.
One of them had filled a bottle with the water, which .
. . Was that to drink? Zig frowned. Kai had said to try the waters, hadn’t they?
He bent forward and cupped a cautious handful, bringing it to his lips.