The Magic Cottage (30 page)

‘Sleep? You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna sleep in this place!’ He started looking around again, this time wildly.

‘It’s nearly three in the morning,’ put in Val, who hovered over us all, ‘much too late for travelling. We’ll sit with you until it’s light, then if you still want to, you can leave.’

Every one of us jumped back when Bob screamed.

‘
Now! I’ve gotta get out now!
’

He threshed around on the bed like a spoilt kid who couldn’t get his own way. I grabbed him and pulled him back as he tried to leave the bed, pinning him there by his shoulders and needing all my strength to do so. I was alarmed to see spittle glistening the sides of his mouth.

‘Leave him be!’ Kiwi shouted, and began tugging at my arm. ‘I’ll drive, I’ll take him home!’

‘He’s in no condition—’

‘I think it would be for the best, Mike.’

I looked over my shoulder at Midge in surprise. ‘It could be dangerous for both of them with Bob in this state.’

‘He’ll be better once he’s away from here,’ she answered.

‘We can’t be sure of that.’

‘It’s more dangerous for him to stay.’

Bewildered, I turned my attention back to Bob; now tears were running from his face onto the pillow beneath him.

‘She might be right,’ said Val. ‘I should let him go, Mike.’

Uncertain, I relaxed my grip, but I didn’t release him. ‘Bob, listen to me now.’ I held his jaw to make him look at me. ‘You can get dressed and we’ll take you down to your car. Kiwi will drive, okay? Can you understand me?’

‘’Course I can fucking understand you. Just let me up. Oh Christ, I’ve . . .’ Again he couldn’t finish the sentence.

I let go of him and rose from the sofa-bed. He sat and Kiwi pushed by me to throw her arms around his shoulders.

‘Help him get dressed,’ I told her. ‘We’ll wait downstairs.’

The three of us stayed long enough to see that Bob was more in control of himself, and although his movements were erratic and he shivered as if chilled, he gave the appearance of having come to his senses a little more. But we could tell he was still very frightened.

‘I’ll make some coffee,’ said Midge quietly, and she and Val went to the stairs. I took time out to return to our bedroom and don jeans and sneakers, keeping the robe wrapped around me. I looked in on Bob again before going downstairs and found Kiwi already dressed, throwing spare clothes and bathroom things into their overnight bag, while Bob slowly did up the buttons of his shirt, his gaze fearfully roaming the room, checking that the walls weren’t on the move again.

I was sorry for him and I was angry at him. And, of course, I was worried for him. But also, I was becoming very afraid for Midge and myself.

Kiwi helped Bob on with his jacket while I watched, ready to leap in and restrain him should his panic bubble over again: I could tell the hysteria was just below the surface, barely held in check.

‘Bob,’ I said, ‘I’d feel better if you didn’t leave . . .’

He looked at me as if I were the one in need of treatment, the wildness of his expression contrary to the usual appearance of someone on heroin: there was a kind of dreaminess there sure enough, but it was of the nightmare variety.

He suddenly gripped both my arms, his words forced and slurred. ‘What is . . . this place?’

And that was all he said.

He let go of me just as abruptly and grabbed Kiwi, pulling her towards the door. He stopped before the hallway, though, and his girlfriend had to support his weight as he swayed there. He kept shaking his head, and for a moment I thought he was going to faint.

‘He doesn’t want to go down there again,’ Kiwi called back to me. ‘Let us out this way, Mike, please
hurry
.’

I pushed past them and unbolted the door in the hallway above the stairs. They were through before I could stop them.

‘Hey, it’s dark out there. Let me go first – those steps are dangerous.’ The only reply I got was from an owl somewhere off in the woods.

They were already on the top step, Kiwi struggling with one of Bob’s arms around her shoulders, using her free hand on the wall to guide herself, the other carrying the overnight bag. They tottered dangerously and I hurried after them before they could tumble.

Taking Bob from her, I slipped his arm around my neck, gripping his wrist tightly and sliding my other arm about his waist. We began an awkward descent and I was glad I’d cleared most of the moss from the steps. Even so, the stone felt slippery beneath me.

When my fingers brushed against the brickwork of the cottage itself, it too felt silky damp.

Twice my feet slid on the smooth steps, but both times I managed to keep upright, pushing Bob against the wall to steady ourselves. I breathed a sigh of relief when we made it into the garden.

The front door opened as we passed, throwing out some useful light, and Val appeared on the other side of Bob; she helped me guide him along the path, Kiwi running ahead to open the car. At the gate, I turned briefly and looked back at the cottage.

The black silhouette of Midge was in the doorway, so perfectly still that she could have been part of Gramarye’s structure. It was a strange, fleeting moment.

We bundled our burden into the car, Kiwi quickly climbing into the driver’s seat, and now Bob had his eyes closed. I tucked in his legs and before I straightened, my head close to his, he opened his eyes again and stared directly into mine. I still shudder when I remember that look (even though worse and more memorable events were to follow), because I saw not just his fear, but an intense and wretched despair within him. Looking into those eyes was like peering into a deep, shadowed well, at the bottom of which something indefinable in the darkness moved, writhed, reached upwards in a gesture of pleading. The drugs he had taken that night had closed certain doors in his mind – which is their true effectiveness – but that had left exposed a direct passage towards other, more inward senses. Whatever he had faced, whatever he had
imagined
he’d seen downstairs in Gramarye’s kitchen, had been drawn from his own darker thoughts.

I pushed myself away and quickly closed the passenger door, the interior light automatically switching off to hide his gaze.

I heard Val advising Kiwi to ‘drive very carefully’, and then the car pulled off the grass verge and quickly gathered speed.

I wasn’t sorry to see those red tail-lights disappear around the bend in the road.

Crack

I don’t suppose any of us slept well that night. We’d sat for a while and drunk coffee, but I guess we were too shocked to discuss Bob’s hysteria, and maybe somewhat embarrassed by it. Midge had remained very quiet when Val discoursed upon the evils and the unpredictable results of drug-taking. Not that I added much to the conversation – my head was buzzing with other thoughts.

We turned in for a second time that night, and when Midge and I were in bed I held on to her, keeping her close against me; but she was unresponsive, as though Bob’s behaviour was partly my fault (and privately I felt a fool for not having found a discreet way of warning him off as soon as it sank in that he was turning on, even if it was only cannabis at that time). At least Midge wasn’t scared, unlike me.

I needed to get my own head straight before I told her what I thought he’d seen down there in the kitchen, and I wanted her to be in a more receptive state: I was well aware by now that Midge had a peculiar kind of blind spot where Gramarye was concerned. Keeping my eyes closed for long was difficult lying there in the darkness, but I must have finally drifted off some time before dawn, although I awoke once or twice during the hours that followed, but not fully until I felt movement beside me. Midge was rising and I was grateful for the morning light. We went downstairs together.

Val arrived soon after, dressed and looking ready for business, events of the previous night dismissed for the moment. It was she who got breakfast organized and I discovered I was surprisingly hungry, although Midge hardly touched a thing. The meal was a dismal affair, even though Val, God bless her, did her best to spark up conversation on a variety of topics, none of them to do with the episode that was on all our minds.

Midge only brightened up when Rumbo appeared in the open doorway, birds already having begun to assemble behind him, trilling their impatient demand for food. Their arrival was somehow reassuring to her.

Val watched with a bemused smile as Midge broke bread and scattered the pieces outside, but Rumbo’s sheer cheek evoked rumbling chortles from somewhere low in her ample chest. The squirrel jumped onto the table and scooped up bacon rind from my plate. He gnawed away, stopping only occasionally to chatter at us, presumably explaining his plans for the day.

I gave him a gentle poke with my finger. ‘You didn’t meet our guest last night,’ I said. ‘Rumbo, this is Val – Val, this is Rumbo. He likes to eat.’

‘I can’t believe it’s so tame,’ exclaimed Val.

‘Shhh,’ I warned. ‘Don’t refer to Rumbo as an “it” – he gets offended easily.’ His presence was beginning to revive my own flagging spirits.

‘How on earth did you manage to get so friendly with him?’ Val was standing with hands on hips, shaking her head.

‘We didn’t need to,’ explained Midge from the doorway. ‘He trusted us right from the start. All the animals around here are friendly. Flora Chaldean, the woman who owned Gramarye before us, gained their trust.’

‘She must have been quite a lady.’

‘She was.’

Midge said that with such conviction that I turned towards her.

‘Tell me about Flora Chaldean,’ said Val, collecting up used cups and plates. Rumbo hopped to the other end of the table, clutching the half-gnawed bacon rind protectively to his chest.

‘We don’t know a lot,’ I said, draining the last of my coffee. ‘Only that she was very old when she died, had lived most of her life at Gramarye, and that she had a reputation as a healer. We were told she had ways of curing animals
and
people.’

‘Curing them?’

‘Well, minor ailments, I guess. Apparently she used potions and faith – I don’t think major surgery was ever involved.’

‘And she lived here alone?’

I nodded. ‘Her husband died soon after they were married, killed in the last world war.’

Val carried crockery into the adjoining room and dumped it in the sink. I followed with my empty coffee cup.

‘I’ll wash up,’ said Midge, hurrying in behind us and turning on the hot-water tap.

‘Okay, I’ll dry.’ Val made way for her. Then she said to me: ‘Shouldn’t you ring Bob and see how he is?’

I glanced at my watch. ‘It’s only a little after nine – he’ll still be dead to the world.’ I smiled grimly. ‘But it’ll give me great pleasure to wake him.’

Only as I climbed the stairs to the phone in the hallway did it occur to me that Val might have wanted to be alone with Midge for a short time. Midge hadn’t offered much in our conversation about old Flora, so maybe Val thought she might be more forthcoming in private. Despite the agent’s rise-and-shine briskness (or rise-and-growl in Val’s case), I had caught her casting one or two ruminative frowns at Midge. One thing that this woman didn’t lack was perception.

I dialled Bob’s number, fairly anxious about him, to be honest: I really wanted to know if he was all right.

The phone rang for a long time before Kiwi’s voice came on. ‘Who is it?’ she said, irritation undisguised.

‘It’s Mike. You got back okay.’

‘Eventually. My navigator slept most of the way, so I took a few wrong turns.’

‘How is he?’

‘Speak to him.’

Bob was on the other end almost immediately. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he said humbly.

‘You prat.’

‘Yeah, I know. I can’t understand it, though, Mike. I didn’t take much.’

‘You’d been drinking as well. How come you sound so bloody normal now?’

‘Was I that bad last night?’

‘Jes— hasn’t Kiwi told you?’ I almost thumped the wall.

‘She said I was a bit hysterical.’

‘I don’t believe it. You were out of your skull!’

‘Some nightmare.’

‘You didn’t have a fucking nightmare! Don’t you remember any of it?’

‘Not much. Pretty scared, was I?’

‘You saw something downstairs in the kitchen, Bob. Surely you recall that?’

There was a pause. Then, ‘Look, Mike, I freaked out – I don’t know what I imagined I saw, or even if I went down there.’

‘Kiwi said you did.’

‘Okay, okay, maybe I did. Everything’s a bit . . . you know, hazy. I’m really sorry I upset everybody. How did, uh, how did Midge take it?’

‘Oh, she thought it was bloody hilarious.’

‘Apologize for me, willya?’

‘That’s not gonna work.’ I shook my head despairingly. ‘Just think back, will you, Bob? When you were lying on the floor against the wall, when I came over to you – d’you remember anything happening with the walls? Anything that was . . . weird?’

‘Are you nuts? Nothing happened to the fucking walls. I took a lousy hit, that was all, so don’t blow things up out of all proportion, Mike. I feel bad enough already.’

‘There’s more to it than just a bad trip. You saw something in the kitchen that terrified you, and when you were upstairs you felt the walls closing in.’