I Am Not a Number. Lisa Heathfield

don’t want to watch a film?’ she asks.

      ‘We’re going to the protest.’

      ‘We can’t.’

      ‘Of course we can. Our voice is important too.’

      ‘But Mum and Darren said we couldn’t.’

      ‘We’ll only go for a bit. If we’re back before them they won’t even know we were there.’

      ‘I could stay here on my own,’ Lilli suggests.

      ‘You know you can’t. It’s too late.’

      ‘Peggy’s next door. If anything happens I can call her.’

      ‘She’s like a hundred and fifty years old,’ I say. ‘She’s not going to be much good if you pour boiling water down yourself. Or flood the house or something.’

      ‘That’s stupid.’

      ‘It’s not. It could happen.’ I put out my hand to pull her up, but she stays sitting. ‘Please, Lils. I really want to go.’

      ‘What if the soldiers are there?’

      ‘They probably don’t even know it’s happening. But even if they are there, Mum says they won’t actually do anything.’ I walk into the hallway and hope she’ll follow. ‘Luke’s going to be there.’

      Lilli appears within a second. I think she might love him almost as much as I do. ‘Is he allowed to go?’

      ‘He’s going with his dad.’

      ‘Will we see him?’

      ‘Hopefully.’

      ‘Okay,’ she says and already she’s looking for her shoes as I put on my coat. I try to ignore the doubt that’s pulling at me as she sits on the bottom stair to tie her laces.

      ‘Mum’ll kill you if she finds out you’ve taken me.’ Lilli’s spinning a bit from the excitement. This is a big deal for her as she never usually does anything she’s not meant to.

      ‘She’d kill me if I left you here.’

      Lilli jumps up, grabs her coat and hooks her arm through mine. ‘Then you’re dead either way, aren’t you?’

      As soon as we’re outside, I know it’s not a good idea. Our street seems strangely silent. One car drives past then turns the corner at the end. The lamplights are on even though it’s not completely dark.

      ‘Are you warm enough?’ I ask Lilli and she nods.

      Most houses’ curtains are closed, but Bob Whittard’s are open and he’s sitting in his armchair, so I wave to him when he looks up. He doesn’t wave back. He doesn’t even smile. It feels like a hard line is being drawn down between those who support the government and those who are against it. Surely it’s something we can scrub out now, before it gets too deep?

      As we get closer to the park there are more people about. They’re mostly as silent as we are as they scurry along towards Hebe Hill. There are soldiers too when I told Lilli there probably wouldn’t be any. One is standing at the end of Shaw Street, two more along Beck Avenue.

      I hold Lilli’s hand tight as we take a shortcut through the alley. It’s darker in here and has a strange quiet, as though a lid has been put on the world. Ahead, there’s the entrance to the park and there are so many people, but I don’t know if seeing them all makes me feel safer, or more scared. I don’t recognise anyone, but the determination on their faces is all the same.

      ‘Have you texted Luke?’ Lilli asks.

      ‘I will when we’re in there.’ Although I’m not sure now how easy it’s going to be to find him.

      We go through the park’s gate and have to follow everyone along the path. The flower beds either side are still filled with delphiniums, the first flowers Dad taught me to name. Seeing them makes me miss him, so I text to tell him that we’re here to protest against the Trads. I think he’ll be proud, but I know I won’t get a message back soon. I’ve learned the hard way not to wait for a reply.

      From where we are we can see people covering the top of the hill. Someone is holding a megaphone, but their words aren’t clear enough yet. I feel better now that we’re here. I’m excited more than scared and I think Lilli is too, judging by her wide eyes and smile as she looks around.

      ‘Can you see Mum anywhere?’ I ask.

      ‘Shall we hide if we do?’

      ‘Perhaps.’ I know Mum would be angry, but maybe she’d be a little bit pleased that we’re protesting too.

      There’s a crowd in front and behind us. I didn’t know there were so many Core supporters in our town. They’ve probably travelled in from a bit further away, but I’m surprised so many people want to show it. I wonder if some of them have come over to our side since the election? Since the government’s ideas have got crazier and crazier. I can’t imagine that everyone who voted for the Trads will be happy with restricted internet use and having their relationships monitored.

      It’s almost single file again as we curve around the edge of the playground. I used to spend hours here, being pushed on the swing by Mum and Dad, then me pushing Lilli, then friends pushing each other and being told to leave. There’s no one there now. The swings aren’t moving, there are no shadows on the slide. Tomorrow there’ll be children laughing again, but for now we walk past with hardly a word.

      There’s more space around us when we get to the hill. Hebe bushes are planted in random clumps for us to walk around. Their colour matches the purple of the Core symbol, so it seems that nature is on our side too. I reach out to touch the flowers. They look a bit like thistles, but they feel like feathers. If it was daytime there’d be tons of bees on them.

      ‘There are lots of people here,’ Lilli says, looking up at me.

      ‘How very perceptive of you, Chicken Bones,’ I say and she thumps me.

      Three men are at the top and they must be standing on some sort of stage. They stick out above everyone. Two of them hold the purple Core Party flag, with its yellow steps going up the middle. The other has the loudspeaker and now we can hear his words. They rumble through the crowd in front of us and light a fire round my bones.

      ‘We won’t be forced into silence!’ the man shouts. ‘We won’t be ruled by bigots who love only to hate.’ The people around us are even louder now and I start to cheer with them. ‘We will champion your rights because each and every one of you has a right to free speech, a right to freedom of movement. A right to freedom!’

      I’m glad we came here. It’s good to feel a part of this, to feel we might finally make a difference. That things really might change.

      ‘Our rights should be at the core of our society.’ His words thunder from him as people cheer again.

      I look up into the sky. It’s a clear night and stars are beginning to reach out. Thousands and thousands of them watching, looking back at us. It makes me feel part of something even bigger.

      ‘We want to live in a tolerant country!’ The man’s words jump among us, landing on our hands, our ears, our skin. They skim up to the leaves and I imagine the wind picking them up and taking them to whisper in strangers’ ears. To let them see. Let them believe too. ‘A country that does not judge. Does not turn away those who cry for our help. We champion the rights of everyone, regardless of your class, your faith, your sexuality, your roots.’ The roar from the crowd is thick enough to touch. My arm stays in the air like everyone else’s. ‘It’s not a solution to cut down those who cry for help. Instead, we will listen. We will care. And we will rebuild our society from the foundation up. We won’t cease in our fight to champion the rights for everyone.’

      ‘Champions! Champions!’ My voice joins in with the chant, but Lilli stays silent, her arms by her side.

      We’re