The Testaments(104)
Had there been an actual man, this would have been a favoured course of action: sensible girls do not elope in Gilead and well-meaning men do not elope with them. So I had to acquiesce, and a search team of Angels was sent out to sift through the houses and streets in the vicinity. They were less than enthusiastic: chasing after deluded young girls was not their idea of heroism. Needless to say, the girl Jade was not found; nor was any Mayday false plumber unearthed.
Aunt Elizabeth gave it as her opinion that there was something very suspicious about the whole affair. I agreed with her, and said I was as puzzled as she was. But what—I asked her—could be done? A cold trail was a cold trail. We must await developments.
* * *
—
Commander Judd was not so easily deflected. He called me into his office for an emergency meeting. “You’ve lost Baby Nicole.” He was trembling with suppressed rage, and also fear: to have had Baby Nicole within his grasp, and to have let her slip—this would not be forgiven by the Council. “Who else knows her identity?”
“No one else,” I said. “You. Me. And Nicole herself, of course—I did see fit to share that information with her, in order to convince her of her high destiny. No one else.”
“They mustn’t find out! How could you let this happen? To bring her in to Gilead, then allow her to be whisked away….The reputation of the Eyes will suffer, not to mention that of the Aunts.”
It was more enjoyable than I can well express to watch Judd writhe, but I put on a dismal face. “We were taking every precaution,” I said. “Either she really has absconded, or she’s been abducted. If the latter, those responsible must be working with Mayday.”
I was buying time. One is always buying something.
* * *
—
I counted the hours as they passed. The hours, the minutes, the seconds. I had good reason to hope that my messengers were well on their way, carrying with them the seeds of Gilead’s collapse. Not for nothing had I been photographing the Ardua Hall top-classification crime files over so many years.
Two Pearl Girls backpacks were discovered beside the entrance to a disused hiking trail in Vermont. Inside them were two Pearl Girls dresses, some orange peels, and one string of pearls. A search of the area was instituted, with sniffer dogs. No result.
Red herrings, so distracting.
* * *
—
The Works Department has investigated the shortage of water complained of by the Aunts living in Doorways A and B and has discovered poor Aunt Immortelle in the cistern, blocking the outlet. The frugal child had removed her outer clothing so as to save it for someone else’s future use; it was found, neatly folded, on the top rung of the ladder. She’d retained her undergarments for purposes of modesty. It’s how I would have expected her to behave. Don’t think I am not saddened by her loss; but I remind myself that it was a willing sacrifice.
This news caused another outbreak of speculation: the rumour was that Aunt Immortelle had been murdered, and who more likely to have done it than the missing Canadian recruit known as Jade? Many of the Aunts—among them those who had greeted her arrival with such joy and satisfaction—were now saying that they’d always believed there was something fraudulent about her.
“It’s a terrible scandal,” said Aunt Elizabeth. “It reflects so badly on us!”
“We will cover it up,” I said. “I shall take the view that Aunt Immortelle was simply trying to investigate the faulty cistern, in order to spare valuable manpower that chore. She must have slipped, or fainted. It was an accident in the course of selfless duty. That is what I shall say at the dignified and laudatory funeral we will now proceed to have.”
“That is a stroke of genius,” said Aunt Helena dubiously.
“Do you think anyone will believe it?” Aunt Elizabeth asked.
“They will believe whatever is in the best interests of Ardua Hall,” I said firmly. “Which is the same as their own best interests.”
* * *
—
But speculation grew. Two Pearl Girls had passed through the gate—the Angels on duty swore to that—and their papers were in order. Was one of them Aunt Victoria, who still had not appeared for meals? If not, where was she? And if so, why had she left early on her mission, before the Thanks Giving? She had not been accompanied by Aunt Immortelle, so who was the second Pearl Girl? Could it be that Aunt Victoria was complicit in a double escape? For, increasingly, it was looking like an escape. It was concluded that the elopement note had been part of it: intended to deceive, and to delay pursuit. How devious and cunning young girls could be, the Aunts whispered—especially foreigners.
Then news came that two Pearl Girls had been spotted at the Portsmouth bus station in New Hampshire. Commander Judd ordered a search operation: these imposters—he called them that—must be captured and brought back for interrogation. They must not be allowed to speak to anyone but himself. In the case of a probable escape, the orders were to shoot to kill.
“That is somewhat harsh,” I said. “They are inexperienced. They must have been misled.”
“Under the circumstances, a dead Baby Nicole is much more useful to us than a living one,” he said. “Surely you realize that, Aunt Lydia.”