Lavender Hill
Authors: P. J. Garland
Tags: #Action, #Adventure, #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Technothriller
LAVENDER HILL
A Novella
PJ GARLAND
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author & publisher.
Sitting here now, in a hotel room in Sao Paulo, watching the world going crazy on the news, I can't help thinking I felt it before it happened.
When we lived in London – the noise, the concrete, the 24hr lifestyle – it was there.
It was seen when stopping in a local park to marvel at the rich auburns and fiery reds of an autumnal tree. It was smelt when passing a neighbour’s little garden after a summer rain shower. It was heard when waiting patiently for the sound of stealthy, unseen movements in a quiet forest far from the city. And when something unusual was heard, it was felt while gently gripping another’s hand. It was always there: a need for your senses to move with the ebb and flow of the day, the seasons, the mood of the land.
People would say: Jack, you've gone from being an IT geek to a New Age hippy.
I'd laugh, joke along. But what I felt was nothing to do with this; it was something deep and genuine.
So we moved to the countryside, to a little village in Devon: old stone-brick houses, friendly people, connected to the land. I was going to run my business from home, spend more time with my beautiful little twins, hope Sarah could again be the person who feels that gentle grip.
And then everything changed. On that fresh spring morning everything suddenly changed, forever.
7:32am (UK)
Jack stood by the living room window looking outside to the garden and the fields beyond. He placed both his hands around a hot cup of tea and held it close to his mouth so that he could sip it regularly. He stood in the T-shirt he had worn to bed and an old pair of tracksuit bottoms used for lounging around the house. His dark hair was messy from just waking up, but his thirty-something face, as always, looked fresh and youthful. The sun was still low in the sky, and the morning dew was only just starting to clear. It was chilly, but Jack enjoyed this feeling.
For a brief moment, he noticed the air appear to shimmer in the distance, but it was so fleeting that he quickly returned to relaxing his eyes over the morning vista. But again, a diversity and richness of light, like the surface of a pearl, appeared to ripple through the air over the fields. Jack refocused his eyes on the window pane directly in front of him to see if it was disturbing the light, but the glass was clean and clear. He then focused again across the fields and moved his head from side to side to try and identify the source of the light. As he moved his head and looked across the fields, he noticed the strange, pearl-like light spread from the ground and into the sky for as far as he could see in all directions.
As Jack watched the light ripple across the sky, he gradually realised it was moving towards the house. The light passed over some horses in the fields, and he watched as the animals immediately began to gallop, buck and jump amongst each other. Then, as the light passed a tree at the end of Jack’s garden, the birds within it immediately broke into an intense and beautiful version of the dawn chorus. It then moved over the patio and passed through the window and into the house.
Jack stood motionless and in shock as the iridescent, shimmering light passed through him. He dropped his cup on the floor, and his arms fell to his sides. He slowly lifted onto the balls of his feet. His back arched, and his head and arms moved backwards as if the light was dragging his whole body along its unstoppable path.
The light moved beyond Jack, and he stumbled forward. He stood still for a moment before raising his head and staring into thin air as if confused or drugged. He stumbled over to a chair and carefully sat down.
Jack stared straight ahead – breathing slowly, heavily. He wasn’t able to think, only feel, and a strange new sensation filled his mind. He felt as if he understood something amazing that gave him a profound sense of hope and purpose. A particular sound, smell, taste and other sensations flashed fleetingly through his mind, but he couldn’t concentrate on them.
These thoughts and feelings filled Jack’s consciousness, but in the background, and only just detectable, was one more sensation. He was being watched.
*****
10:12am (UK); 5:12pm(Cambodia)
The buzz of the London newsroom was tangible. Yes, it had the typical sounds of an office – phones ringing, printers printing, people laughing and joking – but there was a focus, energy and competitiveness that filled the air with excitement.
Two young female reporters sat at their desks staring intently at their computers and occasionally drinking from large cups of coffee. One of the girls had deep black hair that was tied into a tight ponytail and the other frizzy blond hair and rose red lips. The brunette kept flicking onto Facebook and was known as the office gossip.
“Found anything yet?” asked Ms Gossip.
“No, nothing,” replied the other reporter and giggled pointlessly, which made Ms Gossip look at her angrily. “We have to find something interesting, or we’ll be in trouble,” continued Ms Giggles.
“I know. It’s ridiculous. Sport, celebrity, politics, and we end up having to find obscure stories set in the middle of nowhere.”
The phone rang.
Ms Gossip picked the phone up and cleared her throat as if she was about to say something embarrassing. “Hello, Untold International Stories desk.”
She screwed her face up as if unable to hear or understand the person on the end of the line. “Is that you, Katie? It’s very difficult to hear you.” She tried again to listen to the caller. “There’s a what happening? A festival, you say? No, not a festival... something like a festival. I can’t really hear you.”
“Is it Katie?” asked Ms Giggles.
“Yeah, but there’s chanting or something in the background, and I can’t hear a word she’s saying.”
Ms Gossip listened to Katie trying to describe something for a few more minutes before shaking her head and saying loudly into the phone,
“You’ll have to call back later, Katie. Call back with a better line and when it’s not so noisy.” She put the phone down.
“Did she have an untold story for us?”
“I don’t know. She couldn’t tell me.”
Ms Gossip’s expression hardened as her colleague put her hand over her mouth to smother her laughter.
*
Katie put the phone down, brushed her dark red hair away from her face, and walked out onto the balcony of her hotel room. All the residents of the small Cambodian town she was visiting appeared to be present in the main street and they were calmly processing along its length while chanting and shouting proclamations to each other and the heavens. Her light, grey eyes moved carefully over the scene so that she could absorb the details. People were holding objects, wooden objects. They were behaving as if something important and good had happened. And, something else... some of the people were gesturing at something.
*****
2:46pm
Sarah walked into the house she shared with Jack and their two children, placed her keys on a table, and strolled into the living room. She immediately noticed Jack sitting down and looked at him with bemusement.
“Jack – why are you sitting there looking like you’ve only just woken up?”
Jack jumped out of his trance and looked around startled and confused.
“I have just woken up. Why are you back so early?”
“What do you mean early? It’s already 3 o’clock.” Sarah began to busy herself around the room.
Jack looked at his watch. He then stood up and looked at himself in a mirror as if to confirm the time by the presence of his bed-hair and stubble.
“I thought you were programming today for that project deadline?” asked Sarah.
“No, I’ve delegated it to the rest of the team.”
“Haven’t you heard the news?”
“No, what’s happened?”
“Put the TV on. There’s some kind of mass hysteria going on in Asia. Everyone in town was talking about it.”
Jack turned the television on and immediately tuned it to the news channel ‘24/7 News’. He sat down and watched wide-eyed as the reporter summarised the breaking news.
“We now have reports of similar outbreaks of mass hysteria in Africa, China, and South America. Just to confirm, these reports describe peaceful demonstrations, and currently we have no idea why they are occurring.”
“Did you hear that? It’s not just Asia, it’s everywhere.”
“Everywhere? No one in town was going crazy.”
“They didn’t say people are going crazy. It’s all peaceful, apparently.”
“We have reports that people say they felt something important happened at around 7:30 UK time, although we’re not sure exactly what this event was, or what it means.”
“Something happened to me at that time.”
“Oh, God – if anyone is going to be whipped up into a world-wide mass craziness, it’s going to be you.”
“I’m serious. I was standing at the window and—”
“I’ve got too much to do to listen to this nonsense.” Sarah walked out of the living room and into the kitchen.
“Stay tuned. We’ll be keeping you up to date with this breaking story.”
Jack stood up and walked over to the window. He looked over the garden and the fields and thought about the strange light. He remembered the sensations he felt after the light had passed through him and then looked around the room until he saw something he was looking for. He walked over to a wooden figurine placed on a shelf and picked it up.
Jack turned the object over in his hands and felt its surface and texture. There was something important about it. Not the object, or even the material, but something else which he couldn’t quite work out but knew was important.
*****
6:28pm
Jeremy Banks sat at the head of the large table and waited for the last news reporter to take their seat. He was middle aged with a serious, direct and uncompromising demeanour. Jeremy looked like he would have been sporty and over confident as a young man and this arrogance still shone through.
“Right, is that everyone?” Jeremy demanded.
“We’ve just got to make sure Katie Sturridge from the Untold International Stories team is ready via the video link,” replied Mary, one of the senior reporters.
Jeremy looked bemused. “The what team? And who the hell is Katie Sturridge?”
“We established the UIS at the last general meeting to increase diversity in our reporting. And Katie is a recent recruit from the graduate scheme.”
“Whose idea was this UIS?”
“Ruth thought it would be a good idea. She is out now in Asia, but she can’t get to a good enough connection for this meeting.”
“Yes, Ruth – sounds like something she would think of. Mary, why are we waiting for someone on the graduate scheme to contribute to this meeting?”
“She was the first person to contact the newsroom with this story, and she’s been investigating it all day. She’s going to report live after this meeting. We thought it would represent an engaging angle to have such a new reporter get lucky with this amazing story.”
Jeremy looked at a screen situated on the wall at the end of the table. He could see Katie trying to arrange her microphone and earphones, and laughing awkwardly as someone helped her position them properly.
“Well, she better not mess up... ARE WE READY?” Jeremy shouted across the room towards the TV.
Katie smiled shyly. “I can hear you. I’m ready here.”
“Right, let’s begin,” Jeremy said to the reporters in the meeting room.
“Would you like me to give a summary of what I’ve seen today?” asked Katie enthusiastically.
Jeremy looked angrily at the TV. “I’ll ask for your contribution when required thank you, Ms Sturridge.” He then turned to a chubby, sweaty looking reporter and asked for a summary of what was currently known.
“Well, all of the news channels, including our own sources, say something happened at about 7:30 this morning. People are reporting feeling as if something important had just happened and having a sense that it was positive. Almost all the reports are coming from outside the Western world.”
“Is that it?” demanded Jeremy, and looked at the other reporters. “What have you been reporting all day?” Jeremy’s gaze settled on Mary.
“We’ve been interviewing people across the world who say they felt this strange sensation, but they’ve all been giving different stories as to what they think it represents.”
Jeremy looked in disbelief at the reporters. “So that’s it then – nothing.”
“Many of the people here have been carrying around pieces of wood because they think it’s important,” said Katie.
Jeremy looked at the TV and was just about to reply, when the chubby reporter said, “Yes, we had heard about this, but it seemed a bit ridiculous.”
Jeremy surveyed the reporters with a contemptuous look. “So, we’ve got half of the planet wandering around with bits of wood, chanting like a bunch of Hare Krishnas on Oxford Street, and we don’t know why?”
The reporters looked at each other, bits of paper, or anything that allowed them to avoid eye contact with Jeremy.
“Well, if you haven’t got any ideas then it’s obvious we need some people with an angle on what’s happening. So by tomorrow morning, I want you to contact all the experts we typically use, so they can advise us on this phenomenon. And I want a selection of them to discuss this event live on the air. We need priests, psychologists, neuroscientists, physicists – yes, definitely physicists. This is bound to be the sun belching some solar wind in our direction that’s over-stimulated the brains of gullible people, or whatever. I’ve read about this sort of thing.” He looked contemptuously at the reporters. “Has anyone got any other suggestions?”
“Yes, I have,” replied Katie firmly, but with a slight hint of fear in her voice.
Jeremy looked angrily towards the screen but then hesitated before leaning back in his chair.
“OK, Ms Sturridge – seeing as your colleagues here aren’t earning their keep, maybe you might be able to help us differentiate 24/7 News from its competitors.”
“Well, I received a call from an old university friend who’s an anthropologist working in Papua New Guinea. Since this event occurred, he’s noticed a local tribe forming a new religion, and I thought I could report this story.”
Jeremy laughed. “A new religion – excellent, why not, eh? It’ll keep you busy.” He turned to Mary. “I want you to get me an update from Ruth ASAP. Where she is, what she’s doing, and why she’s left Ms Sturridge here to be our only hope for a unique angle on this story, OK.”