by Clive Harold
He had explained their loss to the owner of the farm by saying they had stampeded over the cliff edge. He hadn't wanted to lie, but what else was he supposed to have said? Who would have believed that five animals had just vanished into thin air in as many weeks? And tonight? What would he find tonight or not find....? He leaned cautiously over the cowshed gate and peered into the darkness, not knowing quite what to expect, and then sighed with relief as his eyes, now accustomed to the dark, made out the shadowy shapes of the cows, still neatly stalled inside. Thank God that tonight, at least, they were safe. He could relax again. Well, up to a point. There was, in fact, little time for relaxation around the farm these days - or nights.
He always seemed to have so much more work to do recently, particularly with Clinton now refusing to work at nights anywhere on the farm, or during the day in any of the lower fields. Not that he could blame him. Clinton had borne the brunt of some frightening experiences himself since the incident on Stack Rocks. Only two days later he'd come rushing into the farmhouse one afternoon, looking frightened out of his wits. Billy had sent him down to the lower field to repair some fences and within the hour he'd returned.
'That's it, I'm not going down there again - never again,' he'd insisted, his voice trembling with shock. 'I'd just started work down there, on the fencing - I was crouching down, trying to strengthen a fence pole – when suddenly the shadow of this figure behind me blotted out the light. The sun was so bright, the shadow was as sharp as it could possibly have been. For a moment, I thought it was you, Dad - come to check on me - but when I turned round I was alone, there was nothing, nobody there at all. I ran all the way back home and I mean it - I'm not going down there again, at least not alone...'
Clinton's help with the fencing was invaluable and it was inconvenient to say the least, but Billy had agreed. Clinton was obviously - and understandably - badly shaken up by what had happened, and it wasn't the only thing that had frightened him. A week later, at this same time of the evening, at dusk, on his way up the same path Billy had just walked, he'd seen what he'd described as 'a tall, shape-less column of light' drifting up the path ahead of him, towards the farmhouse. He'd watched it glide up the lane and past the house and then fade away before rushing indoors, and telling what he'd seen. In the weeks since then, he'd not mentioned either incident again, but had seemed to become more introverted than ever.
Pauline hadn't escaped the phenomena, either. Alone in the house, just after darkness fell, she had been looking out of the "window of the front room one night, when the house and surrounding area - had suddenly 'lit up like daylight' as she had described it. The dazzling brightness had lasted for a couple of minutes and then, as suddenly as it had 'happened, it was over.
Darkness fell again. Billy shook his head. Was it any wonder this damn place spooked him so much these days, what with everything that had been happening - particularly recently? The conclusions were obvious. It was as if they were being surveyed, studied; as though his family was being watched, his livestock being experimented with.
The thought chilled him and he shivered, instinctively pulling his collar up as he did so. He looked at his watch. Six o'clock. He'd better get a move on. The kids would already have got back from school, Clinton would be home from work at the farm down the road and Pauline would have served up dinner some time ago. He'd leave checking the herd's feed until later; he'd have to come back to the cowsheds at midnight to check on the herd in any case.
Turning to make his way home, he smiled to see the welcoming lights from the farmhouse, just a little way up the drive. He couldn't wait to get there. It was strange, though, how alienated he felt on his own farm, with his own family and livestock around him; it was like he didn't belong any more. He surveyed the scene; the cold, barrack-like, grey cement farm buildings looming behind him; the skeletal shapes of the naked trees bordering the drive ahead, silhouetted against the night sky, swaying eerily in the evening breeze. He quickened his pace.
But what was that ahead? Headlamps? A torch or lantern, perhaps? There were lights up there on his right, just beyond the outcrop of bushes that hung over the edge of the drive, opposite the house. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, straining his eyes to try and make out what it was. Whatever it was, it was quite still, but shimmering brightly. If only that damn bush wasn't obscuring his view of it. He inched forward a little, moving slightly to his left, trying to get into a better position to make it out. Useless. It looked like two lights, not one - the headlamps of a parked car, perhaps - but he couldn't see properly.
He'd have to get closer. He'd move over to the opposite side of the drive from it, staying close to the wall of the house, and make his way up until he was opposite it. If only it hadn't rained earlier, he wouldn't be making so much noise. Splash, splash, splash. Damn it. But why worry? Why not make a noise? He couldn't explain it to himself, but somehow discretion seemed to be the better part of valour and, well, with everything that had been happening... And now... there it was. A light - no, two lights - two shimmering columns of light, about the same shape and dimensions as human figures, side by side, glowing luminously, quite still, like sentinels.
What the hell were they? He felt himself flatten against the wall, hoping the shadows created by the lights from inside the house behind him would hide him from view. But from the view of what? Could 'they' see? Were they creatures, or machines or just some sort of reflection, optical illusion? No... they were living things. He was sure of that. He just knew it. But what were they doing here? What did they want?
(ill.>not of the particular event- only pcmade of rune via gimp>)
He daren't move. He knew, somehow, that he had better not. The family - what about the family? Had they noticed the lights yet? He prayed silently to himself that they hadn't – and wouldn't. God, he felt vulnerable where he was. And still, right there, nearly opposite him across the drive, glowing in the darkness, the, luminous images remained. Far to his left as he peered down the side of the house, he could see the light from the front room beaming into the front garden and could hear the faint sound of the television from inside. How he wished he were in that room with them. He directed his gaze back to the light ahead of him. 'Still they didn't move… or did they? Yes…now they were moving... first one, then the other... drifting, gliding, floating slowly over the ground away from him, away from the house, still close to the hedgerow opposite but moving slowly up the drive, out of the receding glow from the windows of the house and now being swallowed up by the inky blackness beyond.
And then, as he watched, gone. Gone, in the blinking of an eye, gone, with the suddenness of an electric light be' mg switched off. Billy bowed his head and let out a gasp of relief. For a moment he didn't move but stood quite still, savouring the calm he suddenly felt within himself.
'Billy?' The sound of Pauline's voice, calling out to him from the porch, shook him out of his trancelike state. 'Here, love,' he called back to her, seeing her silhouetted in the light of the porch and looking anxiously down the drive, 'down here, by the wall...'
He saw her look further to her right and along the side of the house. 'What are you doing there, love?' He went over to her, took her by the arm and led her into the house. Once inside, she could tell bewildered expression on his face - happened. The children, she explained, had already had their dinner and were now watching television; she'd put his dinner in the oven to keep it hot. While he was eating, he could tell her all about it. Billy smiled at the suggestion and felt as comforted as she had intended him to be. Since the Stack Rocks sighting, they had pledged each other that they would share any future experiences and not keep any Secrets. It was better, they decided, to be prepared for any eventuality and forewarned was forearmed.
immediately by the that something had
He told her exactly what he'd seen. She listened to him without interruption and showed no emotion, though he could tell she was unnerved. The fact that such phenomena were now nothing new to either of them di
d nothing to allay their fear. The conclusions were as obvious to Pauline as they were to Billy; they were definitely being closely observed by... well, by some intelligence or power beyond their understanding, and the interest in them hadn't diminished, it had intensified.
But to what end? What was it leading to? It was waiting for that answer that remained so frightening... When Billy had finished relating what he'd seen, he fell silent, sipping his coffee, staring vacantly into space, his thoughts seemingly a million miles away. If Pauline was worried, it was no more so than he was. She would busy herself tidying up after dinner and then packing the kids off to bed. There was, in fact, something important she wanted to talk over with him, that was directly related to what had happened to him that evening, but it could wait until tomorrow. She'd let him drink his coffee in peace and then have his customary bath, before he went back down to the cowsheds to check on the herd. After what had happened, that would be the last thing he'd want to do, in any case. Dwelling on it would only make matters worse.
*
'Sleep well?'
Billy chuckled at the irony of Pauline's question as he sat down for breakfast the next morning. She must be joking, he thought to himself. His midnight check on the herd the previous night had been the most nerve racking yet. He'd actually rushed the whole procedure, with only half an eye and half his concentration on what he was doing. Normally he'd have spent over an hour with the herd, at the very minimum, but last night he'd run all the way down there, cast a quick look over the animals - just to see whether any of the pregnant ones were ready to calve - and had then run all the way back. Pauline, bless her, had stayed awake until he got back.
'Yes, slept like a baby,' he grinned across to her, 'when managed to close my eyes... She gave him his egg and bacon and sat down next to moving the morning paper out of his reach, so as to his fullest attention. She'd purposely got the children to school a little earlier than normal and persuaded Clinton to leave early for work, so they could have a once to talk on their own.
'What's up, love?' Billy asked her. He could tell she something on her mind. 'We're going to have visitors tomorrow...' She began slowly, stopping abruptly when she saw the expression on face. Not that it surprised her. She knew the hesitant tone in her voice was probably giving her away and he knew what was coming next.
And you don't mean members of the family coming over for Christmas?' he asked, frowning now, 'but some-to do with UFOs or suchlike - more of those so-investigators or whatever they call themselves. Pauline, how could you have, love, after all we agreed...?' He banged down his coffee cup and fumbled irritably for cigarette.
She knew he would probably guess what she done and be furious and she hardly blamed him. It was almost a year since everything had started happening to them, and for most of that time they had tried keep as low a profile as possible. Living with such phenomena had been hard enough to do, without having suffer the sort of ridicule, humiliation and inconvenience they had originally endured after they made the mistake of telling the local papers about the light that had fellowed her home that night and then the silver-suited figure she and Billy had seen at the window. After those reports had come out, life had, for a time, been unbearable. The press local and national - had reported their story in such a tonguein-cheek fashion that Billy had felt they been made to look ridiculous, and he seemed to have right, to judge from the comical but cruel remarks that some of the locals had made at her expense; At the other extreme, there were the locals who had believed their story, but rather than sympathise, had been openly hostile. And that wasn't all. There had also been the UFO enthusiasts and investigators who had pestered them day and night with phone calls and letters - some were obviously the product of cranks, others were from enthusiasts who seemed to know their subject well - all of which had stretched their nerves to breaking point. On top of everything else had also been the commercial exploiters, anxious to cash in on their situation and to persuade them to cash in on it as well – there had been the television producer who had tried to persuade them to sign a contract to report their experiences only to his current affairs programme, the film executive who wanted exclusive rights to their story for a documentary feature film, and the local hotelier who wanted to include the farm as the main attraction of UFO holidays he planned to operate.
The more they had become the focus of attention, the more their friends and neighbours and the local newspapers had implied that they were making up the stories, and ridiculed them, and the more they had been pestered by the UFO investigators, enthusiasts and cranks. But had they been able to get the one thing they really wanted -help? Absolutely not. They had told the police that their 'property had been trespassed upon, their possessions and livestock were going missing, that their property had been damaged and they had even suffered physical harm from intruders, yet the police had admitted there was nothing they could do to help. They had told the local RAF base and their MP what had been happening, who had in turn told the Ministry of Defence, but what had happened when the authorities had been confronted with numerous witnesses of the phenomena and substantial physical evidence to show that spacecraft and spacemen had been seen near their Top Secret establishments? Absolutely nothing - except that the Ministry of Defence first admitted that something strange was going on and then changed their minds a fortnight later.
It was no wonder that shortly after they had seen the silver figure at the window, Billy had decided that – apart from the reports they filed with the local BUFORA investigator - they would keep secret everything that might happened to them. It was obvious that nobody believed them ept the authorities and they were too frightened to acknowledge what was going on. All they could do was to suffer in silence, as it were, and hope the 'intruders' would go away of their own accord.
This they had done for the best part of nine months, during which the UFO activity in the area had ceased, the Press had stopped taking any interest in them and most their friends and neighbours had long since forgotten what had originally happened to them. Only the occasional UF0 enthusiast or investigator now telephoned to see if they had anything to report and their answer was always same - nothing to report. At least, it had been, until that, previous day when she had talked for a long time on telephone to a UFO enthusiast who had seemed to her to be particularly intelligent, perceptive and knowledge-able about the subject and, more to the point, he seemed sympathetic. He had eventually asked her if he might me down to the farm and meet them and talk to them – and she had taken it upon herself to agree.
It was this news that she was trying - as gently as possible - to break to Billy. 'Yes, love, it is somebody to do with UFOs,' she admitted to him, 'but before you get too annoyed, hear me out. I know what we agreed about keeping everything to ourselves, but this man - Paul Palmer - does seem to have a of ideas about what's been happening here, and he seems very sympathetic. He really does seem to know at he's talking about and let's face it, love, things are getting worse recently, not better. You know you're as worried as I am. We could do with a few answers and if he could at least help us to understand what's happening, well that would be something, wouldn't it...?'
Billy looked at her long and hard. She was right, of course. Things had been getting a lot worse lately and they just couldn't go on like this, living from one week to the next, never knowing what to expect or how to deal with it.
'When is he coming?' he asked her. 'Tomorrow...
'That soon?' 'It's the weekend - the only time he can afford to take off from work,' she told him. 'He's a farmer, like you -from Norfolk. He's coming down with his fiancee, 3anet. They should be here about lunchtime. The twins can sleep in with Keiron and Clinton tomorrow night and they can have that room and stay the night. OK, love?' She reached across the table and squeezed his arm.
'Of course,' he agreed, 'to tell the truth, it'll be a blessed relief to talk to someone outside the family about it after all this time. He must know more about this sort of thing than we do and if he c
an shed any light on what's been going on - or advise us how to cope with it - then it's got to be worth it...'
He could see the relief in her face as he agreed to her plan. Poor love, he thought to himself, she's certainly been through a hell of a time, particularly recently. He hadn't been at all easy to live with in recent weeks – he knew that - so bewildered and worried had he been about what was happening to the herd. He'd look forward to meeting Palmer and hearing what he had to say.
*
'Well, what do you think?'
It was Saturday night, almost Sunday morning. Billy had just got in from his midnight check on the herd and was in no mood for a lengthy conversation, but he could understand the enthusiasm in Pauline's question. Paul Palmer and his fiancee
- who had spent the whole of the afternoon and evening talking with them - had lived up to their expectations.
He slid into bed next to Pauline and, propping himself up on one elbow, turned to her and nodded, smiling as he did so. 'I think you were quite right to invite them down - you know you were. Very nice couple, they are - and they talked a a lot of sense, if you ask me. Lord knows if any of his theories are right, but they certainly sound logical and right, well... a lot of what's been happening makes sense, doesn't it?' she nodded and opened her mouth to speak.