Helen gave yet another nod of the head. ‘Yes, Rob.’
Rob put his arms about his sister to comfort her, then found that he was holding her very tightly, as if he, too, needed someone, or even something, to reassure him.
The loud knocking at the front door came without any kind of warning. It was sure and precise. Four hard, sharp raps on the knocker, then quietness.
Rob and Helen, both startled, looked up at once. Helen looked at her brother, expecting him to deal with the situation. There was a slight faltering of Rob’s voice as he stood up and took command once more. ‘Just stay here, Helen,’ he said, and walked towards the hallway door.
As Rob entered the hallway from the kitchen, the front door knocker was banged loudly yet again. Four more sharp, precise knocks, identical in sound to the first four.
Rob stayed put for a moment by the kitchen door. He looked along the hallway towards the front door. He estimated that probably a minute had passed between the first bout of knocking and the second. And he imagined that, when a further minute had elapsed, exactly the same sound would happen again. Whoever was out there seemed to make the simple sound of a knock upon a door sound like a mathematical process.
So Rob moved quickly to the door before the next minute was due to expire, but he made no attempt to open the door as yet.
‘Who is it?’ he said to the locked and bolted door.
‘Robert Steven Jardine?’ The man’s voice, from the other side of the door, seemed as sharp and sure of itself as the punctuated knocking.
‘Yes,’ answered Rob, surprised at hearing his full name spoken.
The voice outside also sounded cool and flat and emotionless. ‘You asked for help.’
‘I did. Yes.’
‘Then unlock the door.’
Rob’s first thought, as he drew back the first heavy bolt, was that Constable Daly had sent one of the Scars Edge villagers on ahead of him. His relief at hearing a voice, any voice, made him overlook the fact that he had heard no-one approach the house.
He drew the second bolt, unlatched the door, then opened it.
The man and woman entered almost immediately. They hardly looked at Rob. Instead, they looked around them at the interior of the hallway as if they were carrying out some kind of inspection.
Rob stared at them. The woman was the most beautiful person that he had ever seen. She had long, fair hair and she was wearing a dress that seemed to shimmer and shift and flow upon her slim figure. She turned to close the door and, to Rob, it seemed as if there was an aura of blueness about her presence, there in the dark hallway. In later years, whenever he remembered her, which was often, his first thought was always the colour blue.
The man had moved to the foot of the first flight of stairs and was looking up at the landing above. He, too, had fair hair. But, as the woman expressed blueness, so the man suggested the colour grey. His smart suit, shirt and tie were somehow neutral. His whole appearance and manner seemed cold, almost metallic.
‘I — I don’t know you,’ said Rob.
The man had finished inspecting the first staircase. He had now moved along the hallway to the cellar door.
The woman was setting the catch on the front door. She then proceeded to slide home the bolts. It was then, as the man opened the cellar door and stared down into the darkness below, that Rob suddenly realised that he had not heard either of them arrive at the house. Neither did they look as if they had been out in a strong wind. Their hair, like their clothes, was immaculate. She could have been at some expensive party, he at some important business meeting.
‘Only the policeman at Scars Edge...’ Rob began to explain.
‘The policeman at Scars Edge,’ declared the man, without looking at Rob, ‘isn’t coming.’ He then closed the cellar door and looked past the puzzled Rob, and along the hallway towards the kitchen. ‘I’ve contacted him,’ the man said. ‘Told him that everything out here is now under control.’
‘But it isn’t.’ Rob protested.
‘I know,’ agreed the man. ‘That’s why we’re here and not him.’
The man then walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. From the moment he had entered the house, the man had not looked at Rob once.
Rob turned to the woman. She smiled at him. To Rob, the smile also radiated blueness. The blueness of a clear, bright sky. But a clear sky on a cool day, not a warm one. And the smile was not the kind of smile that could be ignored. It set the rules. To an older youth, the smile could have seemed like a tease or a joke, or a promise.
‘He’s a shade too serious,’ the woman said, indicating her companion, ‘But you’ll get used to him.’
‘But he’s got no right to tell the policeman...’ Rob began to complain, but the smile seemed to have complete control over any kind of protest.
‘Your parents have disappeared, haven’t they?’
‘Yes,’ said Rob, wondering how the woman knew this.
‘And you want them back?’
‘Of course I want them back!’
‘Safely?’
And the smile had left the woman’s face. In its place was a calm but penetrating look that somehow managed to ask the truth and tell the truth at one and the same time.
‘Yes,’ said Rob, quietly.
‘Well, then.’ She put out a hand and placed it upon Rob’s shoulder. ‘Your policeman, with his notebook and his questions, stands no chance in this world of getting them back for you.’ Then, before Rob could answer, she added, ‘But we do.’ And she led him down the hallway towards the kitchen door.
Rob looked up at her as they walked. ‘Whatever it is that’s happened to them,’ he began.
The woman halted by the kitchen door and looked at Rob, waiting for him to finish what he had to say. As if that mattered. As he would always find with her, it was as if she knew exactly what he was going to say next anyway.
‘My mother and father,’ he said. ‘Whatever’s happened to them. Is it serious?’
The woman looked at him for a moment or two, with her calm, discerning eyes. ‘Yes,’ she said, impassively, then led Rob through the open door and into the kitchen.
Chapter Three
‘How old would you say the house is?’ asked the man. He was standing at the far end of the kitchen, looking through into the small adjoining room that Rob’s father used as an office.
The woman was looking around her at the kitchen and its old, farmhouse-parlour furniture. ‘At a rough estimate —’ she scanned the walls, windows and ceiling ‘— I’d say two hundred and fifty years.’
The man nodded as he closed the office door then joined the woman in a close scrutiny of the kitchen and its contents.
Helen still sat, wrapped in the blanket, in the big fireside chair. Her head moved from side to side as she watched the man and woman, almost mesmerised by them.
And Rob, too, stood by his sister and watched them. The couple seemed to talk and think and work like two experts.
‘Then again, it’s very old land, but arable,’ said the woman. ‘Probably been that way for centuries. There could have been other buildings on the same foundations, back in time.’
‘Yes,’ the man nodded, then indicated the furniture in the room. ‘Genuine antiques?’
‘I’d say most of them.’ The woman moved to the refectory table. She rested the flat of her long, delicate hands gently upon the surface of the table, as if to test for something. ‘This piece alone is about ninety-three and a half years old.’
The man nodded again. ‘And the name Jardine?’
‘Derived from Old French. The boy’s father’s name is Henry. His mother’s, Sarah.’ The woman then pointed to the small, blanket-wrapped figure. ‘The child is named Helen.’
Rob stared at the couple in amazement. ‘How do you know?’ he demanded.
But the man and woman, still busy with their strange survey, ignored him.
‘Old names. An old house.’ The man appeared to be addressing the very atmosphere of t
he room itself. ‘Old possessions.’ And he paused for a moment as if working out a sum total in his head. ‘Lots of — lots of old echoes. Probably too many. Too many echoes.’
‘A pressure point, then?’ asked the woman.
The man nodded yet again as he continued to take stock of the room. ‘Could well be. Could well be it.’
‘You seem to know a lot about us.’ Rob raised his voice a little this time, determined to get at least a couple of words in.
The woman turned her head slowly to look at him. ‘We do. Yes.’
‘Then perhaps you’d like to say who you are. What your names are.’
The woman considered this for a moment, then switched on the smile that was reminiscent of a clear, cool, blue sky. ‘My name is Sapphire.’ She made it sound like a proclamation. ‘And my friend’s name is Steel.’
Rob gazed at her. ‘Sapphire?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s a...’
‘What?’
‘Well, that’s a — that’s a beautiful name.’
‘Thank you,’ said Sapphire, increasing the smile for Rob’s benefit.
Steel broke in on Rob’s moment of mild enchantment. ‘There seem to be a lot of clocks in this house.’
‘Er — yes. My father collects them, makes them work.’
Steel picked up the nearest clock. He looked at it and listened to it. ‘So why aren’t they working now?’
‘Because they all stopped when...’ Rob stopped also, not quite sure how to explain it.
‘Yes?’ Steel was still looking at him, waiting for an answer.
‘Well — they all stopped just before it happened.’ Rob waited for Steel to ask him exactly what he meant, exactly what had happened. But Steel simply glanced at Sapphire before turning his attention to Rob once more. The man had a way of making each question sound like an ultimatum. ‘So where were you when it happened?’
‘Me?’ said Rob. ‘I was down here, right here in the kitchen.’
‘And your parents were where?’
Rob pointed up towards the ceiling. ‘In Helen’s bedroom. At the top. They were reading to her. They read to her every evening before she goes to sleep.’
Steel moved across the room to Helen. He looked down at her for a few moments and Helen’s small face looked back up at him.
Helen eventually spoke. ‘Mama and Daddy,’ she said in her quiet whisper. ‘They just went away.’
Steel’s face seemed completely unmoved. He turned away from Helen and looked at Sapphire for a moment or two. Rob felt that when the two looked at each other like this, they seemed to isolate themselves from everything and everyone around them.
‘I think we’d all better go up to the top room,’ said Steel. ‘Bring the child.’
Sapphire turned and held out her arms to Helen.
Rob was hoping somehow that Helen would not respond to these strangers. But Sapphire had switched on the smile. Helen shook the blanket from her shoulders and raised her own small arms so that Sapphire could lift and carry her.
Steel was still holding the medium-sized clock. He pointed to a smaller one that was set on the dresser shelf. ‘Fetch that, will you?’ he ordered Rob.
Rob moved to the dresser and reached up for the small clock.
The procession climbed the first flight of stairs. Steel, carrying the medium sized clock, kept his eyes fixed firmly on the stairs and the shadows above. Rob was close behind him with the second clock. Sapphire, cradling Helen in her arms, followed them, the teddy-bear swinging from the child’s hand.
They reached the first landing, crossed it, then began to climb the second, narrower flight of stairs. No-one spoke on the way up.
The second landing was smaller than the first. A vase and a short-case clock were its only ornaments. The clock had stopped at just after a quarter to seven. A cupboard-stair door, that led to the third flight of stairs and the attic room, was still open as Rob had left it.
The small procession reached the second landing. Steel halted there. He looked around him, taking note of the case clock as he did so. Sapphire, Rob and Helen watched him and waited.
‘What did you hear?’ asked Steel.
The question came unexpectedly, catching Rob withought a thought in his head.
‘Sorry?’
Steel looked at Rob with an expression of weary impatience, as if he, Steel, had every right to ask questions without warning and was also entitled to immediate answers. ‘What did you hear when the clocks stopped?’
Rob thought about it. ‘Well, there was a kind of silence.’
Steel regarded him with the same expression on his face. ‘I want to know what you heard, not what you didn’t hear.’
Rob apologised yet again. ‘Oh, sorry.’ Then he remembered. ‘I heard Helen crying.’
Steel wandered towards the open stair door and peered up at the landing above. The warm light from Helen’s bedroom lamp reflected on the sloped ceiling of the tiny landing. Just a small glow that helped to accentuate the shadows.
‘And that was all you heard?’ Steel was still looking up through the cupboard-stair door.
‘Well, no. There was this sound.’
Steel turned his head slowly to look at Rob. ‘What kind of sound?’
Rob found it hard to explain.
‘Describe it.’ Steel insisted.
Rob tried his best. ‘It was like a — well, it was like a rumbling sound at first,’ he said, causing Steel to glance at Sapphire. ‘Then it became different. It became a kind of tearing sound.’
But Steel was already leading the way through the cupboard-stair door and up the steep steps to the attic.
When the four of them had reached the small, angled landing, Steel raised his hand. The party halted there.
The door to the attic bedroom was still ajar. The light, from the small lamp inside the room, highlighted their faces.
Steel nodded at Sapphire. It was like a kind of signal. Sapphire set Helen down, then moved to the open doorway and stood there.
Rob watched her. Sapphire had her hands raised, palms facing outwards. She seemed able to examine and measure an atmosphere with the same skill that she used to analyse a solid object.
‘Yes,’ she said and lowered her hands. ‘It’s here. Somewhere.’
Steel leaned forward and took the handle of the attic bedroom door. ‘In this room?’
Sapphire nodded. ‘It could well be in that room, yes.’
Steel pushed the handle and the door swung inwards so that, from the landing, the whole of the inside of the room could be seen. The room was just as Rob and Helen had left it. The crumpled bedclothes, the fallen book, the rocking chair, the pipe and the pouch.
‘So where have they gone?’ asked Rob.
Steel and Sapphire stared into the room without answering him.
‘My mother and father,’ Rob tried again. ‘Where have they gone, please?’
Steel and Sapphire turned slowly to look at Rob.
‘I’m afraid we can’t afford to tell you that right now,’ said Steel.
‘Why not?’
Once again, Steel did not answer. He turned back to the doorway of the room.
‘Look, I want to know.’ Rob raised his voice a fraction. Sapphire was regarding him with the calm, cool look, but Rob decided to make a bit of a stand at last. ‘I’ve every right to know. I live here, remember?’ he said, maintaining his stand.
‘Yes,’ Sapphire was still looking at him. ‘You live here.’
‘And Helen. Helen lives here as well.’ Rob moved towards his sister. He took her hand and eased her away as far as he could in the cramped space of the attic landing, just far enough to separate himself and Helen from the two adults.
Steel had turned to watch him.
‘I mean, you two — you arrived here — just like that.’ Rob tried to click his fingers but it did not work very well. ‘This place, well, you can hear cars or people approaching this place from miles away. But you two — you arrived
— just like that.’ He decided not to attempt the finger click a second time.
‘One-point-nine-four miles to be exact,’ said Sapphire.
Rob stared at her, taken out of his stride. ‘What?’
‘The distance of approach to this house.’
‘Oh,’ said Rob, deciding to work that one out later. ‘Anyway, I want to know. Now.’ And he stood there defiantly, holding his sister close to him. Helen simply looked from one person to the next, as if she were waiting patiently for an adult argument to go away.
Sapphire continued to look at Rob for a moment or two, then she smiled. ‘Alright then,’ she conceded.
Steel interrupted her quickly. ‘It can’t be explained to him!’
‘It can, in a way,’ said Sapphire. ‘But not by you perhaps.’
Steel jabbed a finger at the attic bedroom. ‘If we are going to re-construct what happened in there...’
‘Then maybe he should know things.’
Steel looked at her then decided to say nothing as Sapphire moved towards Helen and took the child’s hand in hers.
‘There is, if you like, a corridor,’ said Sapphire to Rob.
Rob stared at her.
‘And the corridor — again, if you like — is Time. It surrounds all things. It passes through all things.’
Rob continued to stare at her. ‘Time?’ he asked.
Sapphire nodded. ‘Time.’ She put her arm about Helen’s shoulders and drew the child close to her as she continued to address Rob. ‘You can’t see it. Only now and again. Perhaps a glimpse, that’s all. But even that is dangerous. Also, you cannot enter into Time.’ The smile left her face. In its place was the calm, cool look. It was a look that somehow helped to illustrate her theme. The look itself seemed ageless, as if the blueness, that she radiated, was somehow both the colour and the secret of time.
Rob stared at her as she continued with her explanation. ‘But, once in a while, Time can try to enter into the Present. Break in. Break through. Take things. Take people.’
Rob began to realise. He glanced towards the attic bedroom, then back.
Sapphire and Steel Page 2