The Marriage Act(29)
‘The biometrics on the security cameras have stopped working so I couldn’t tell who it was,’ he said gruffly. ‘The others are waiting.’ He pointed to the ceiling.
Corrine made her way alone through another door, up a familiar wooden staircase that groaned with each step, through an empty kitchen and into the disused pub’s lounge. Dimmed lights and boarded windows prevented anyone outside knowing it was occupied. It had the air of an apocalyptic after-hours lock-in.
She took in the faces surrounding her. She was unsure how she might be received after what had happened to Nathan, a popular and frequent attendee. But they couldn’t have made her feel any worse than she did already. She counted thirty people standing or sitting around tables and a low hum of conversation. They were there for a shared purpose – to fight against the Sanctity of Marriage Act as members of an underground Freedom for All splinter group.
A familiar voice caught her attention. ‘Corrine, so glad you came!’ Yan said and gave her a brisk hug. ‘I’ve been worried. How are you?’
‘I still have a little bruising but the swelling has gone down,’ she replied, touching her lip. ‘It’s Nathan I’m concerned about. Have you heard anything?’
‘I think Ferdi is about to update us,’ she said as she pointed to a young man by the bar at the front of the room. His dirty blond hair was cropped close to his head and he wore a t-shirt advertising a band Corrine remembered from her youth but that he was far too young to know. In fact, she had years on most of the people there. What had happened to the fighting spirit of people her age? she wondered. The ones who had argued against foreign wars, protested Brexit and opposed the sell-off of huge chunks of the National Health Service? It had clearly skipped a generation. She could only hope her children would stand up and be counted if and when the time came.
‘It’s been a mixed week,’ Ferdi began. ‘While our Newcastle colleagues have had success in exposing Stefan Galbraith’s bigotry, our own attempt to bring Eleanor Harrison to task failed to yield the same results.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Yan told Corrine, loud enough for Ferdi to hear, making her blush.
‘No, no, of course not,’ Ferdi added quickly, but Corrine was unsure if he was paying her lip service. ‘But while the night didn’t go as we’d planned – through no fault of our team – at least there’s no evidence to suggest we were involved. And we plan to keep it that way.’
‘Why?’ asked David.
‘The powers-that-be have decided that, from a PR point of view, we cannot be seen to be a part of anything that involves a violent physical attack.’
‘But it was her fault,’ said Corrine. ‘You saw the video yourself.’
‘Legislation following the murder of MPs in the past means any physical attack on them, no matter how lightly or badly they are injured, is seen as an Act of Terror. So as far as we are concerned, this has nothing to do with the FFA. We didn’t sanction it, there was nobody from our group present.’
‘Then Nathan has put himself at risk for nothing?’ Corrine continued. Ferdi didn’t respond. ‘Well at least can you tell us how he is? Do you have an update? I called the hospital but—’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ interrupted Ferdi.
‘I used a burner phone.’
‘It doesn’t matter. You don’t know who’s listening.’
Corrine’s eyes began to well and, needing a moment to herself, she exited the bar and made her way back to the kitchen area.
The role of her region’s faction was to target self-righteous politicians who lent their support to the Act while hiding secrets of their own. Two years earlier, Parliament had amended legislation that meant their MPs Audites didn’t record them, citing ‘matters of national security’. They received the same benefits of Upmarrying but didn’t answer to anyone until the FFA decided that wasn’t fair. It took them to task for extra-marital affairs, corruption, and undeclared business interests through online exposés, harassment at public events and even mass protests outside their homes. It became Corrine’s role to help coordinate the events.
And when the shocking behaviours of her own local MP, Eleanor Harrison – one of the most fervent supporters of the Act – were brought to her attention, she was desperate to hold her to account.
A voice startled her and she turned to see Ferdi at the door. ‘You okay, Corrine?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have become emotional.’
‘It’s understandable but please remember: you’re not to blame for what happened to Nathan. Harrison is the guilty party, not you.’
‘Thank you. But I still feel responsible. It’s making me question if I should stay in the group.’
‘Look, if you really want to check up on him, I might know someone who can help.’ He lowered his voice. ‘They used to be part of the Hacking Collective.’
‘That group who took over those driverless cars a few years ago?’ She recalled with distaste how the terrorist group had held to ransom eight drivers in autonomous vehicles and encouraged the public to vote who they would like to survive. One by one, those who didn’t get the votes were blown up inside their cars. ‘Aren’t we already treading a fine legal line as it is without their involvement?’