The Mind's Eye

by K. C. Finn

  ***

  I had a horrible feeling that Doctor Bickerstaff might be sitting at my bedside when I was next conscious, so I was both surprised and relieved to find Bampi Idrys asleep in a chair when I managed to turn over in my bed at Ty Gwyn. The clock face told me it was six, but the light outside would not give way to it being either morning or evening and I had no way of telling what day it was either. The only solution to that would be to wake Idrys, which felt too cruel as I watched the gingery-grey farmer blow a bubble on his sleepy lip. Instead, I shuffled onto my back again and assessed my aching body. My mind felt clear, and though I knew it wasn’t a good idea given the fever, I shut my eyes and raised my palms up over my face.

  Henri?

  Everything was black for a moment before Henri’s eyes opened. He was staring up at a cloudy morning sky, the shadow of a pinky-blue hue lurking behind the heavy clouds. He groaned loudly, rubbing his face.

  “Kit? Did I hear you?” he whispered.

  You were asleep, I said guiltily.

  “Of course I was,” Henri added, clearing his throat, “It’s seven in the morning, and I have no job.”

  And no home by the looks of it, I observed, Where on earth are you?

  Henri answered my question as he sat up, showing me a series of great leafy trees, stone paths and benches. He was in a cold, empty park, lying on a hard wooden bench. Henri shivered against the morning breeze as he pulled a big overcoat out from under him and wrapped himself up.

  “Thank God it’s nearly summertime,” he breathed.

  What day is it? I asked him.

  “Wednesday,” he replied, “Do you not know?”

  I’ve been… ill. I’ve been asleep a lot.

  “Are you all right now?” I appreciated the concern in his lovely deep voice.

  I’m over the worst of it, I answered, hoping that was true. I still couldn’t decide if it was the strain of the crutches or the argument with Bickerstaff that had set me off. Either way I intended to avoid both for as long as possible now. That suspicion I had about the doctor and Blod and the baby? It was true, by the way. The doctor knows that I know; he’s furious about it.

  “You spend a lot of time with this doctor,” Henri observed, “I think there’s something you’re not telling me.”

  He got up and walked in his scuffed shoes along the stone path, looking out into the park that was slowly filling with people; some of them were soldiers passing through. I thought for a while about what I ought to tell Henri. It felt wrong to keep things from him when I could just invade his head whenever I felt like it. He passed a few people then ducked off the path down to a lovely little pond covered in algae. Henri sat down alone in the reeds, plucking one off and running it between his smooth fingers several times.

  All right then, I began, here’s some things you don’t know about me. I have reddish-brown hair, blue eyes and very white skin because I’m hardly ever out in the sun. I can’t walk. Well, I can walk a tiny bit, but not enough to go out alone. I have to push myself around in a wheelchair.

  “That makes sense,” Henri said, surprising me with his casual tone. I didn’t feel even a fleck of disappointment in his body that I was crippled up in a chair. “You always seem to be indoors with everything you tell me about. Now I know why.” We were silent a moment at the little pond, I felt a cool relief sweeping over me. “This doctor, what does he do for you?”

  He’s teaching me to walk again… well, maybe. I’m not certain that I can.

  “I thought you said he was horrible?” Henri pressed, “That sounds very noble to me.”

  You haven’t met him, I countered. Henri chuckled.

  “Your illness,” he began in a softer tone, “Does it give you pain?”

  Yes. I felt his chest ache right in the centre.

  “I’m sorry for that,” he whispered.

  Me too, I replied, but it’s been more than three years now, you get used to some of the pain over time.

  Silence fell once more between us. Henri grew nervous, fumbling with the reed in his fingers until it slipped and swayed gently to the ground between his legs. He rubbed the dirty knees of his trousers thoughtfully and then let out a sigh.

  “I have decided what to do, now that I’ve no work to keep me here,” he said in a much more shaky tone.

  What? I asked impatiently.

  “I met some other young men last night,” Henri explained, blinking down at the dewy foliage he was sat on, “They’re going to escape from the city and travel north into the mountains.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that; surely the icy mountains were far more dangerous than the Germans? But why? I asked. Why would you go north?

  “Because boats have been arranged,” Henri answered, his voice now a nervous low whisper, “There are boats to bring men to Scotland, men who want to join the British Army and fight.”

  You’re coming here? I couldn’t hide the excitement in my voice, but then I realised the risk in what he was doing. Crossing the North Sea would be a harrowing task, and that was if he made it out of Oslo at all without the Germans catching him. Henri, isn’t this all too dangerous?

  He waved his hand. “Everything is settled. I leave tonight.”

  ***

  I stayed as long as I could with Henri before the cold shiver in my spine told me it was time to come back to my own head. He wouldn’t explain his escape plan since he was sitting in such a public place, but he told me the time that he was due to leave and I promised I would return to give him courage. It would be the middle of the night here, there was no reason I couldn’t do it, even if I knew I’d feel awful the morning after. As I opened my eyes back at Ty Gwyn I was filled with excitement and dread in equal measure. I knew by Henri’s watch that it was nearly nine here now, so I didn’t bother with the clock.

  Idrys was awake and watching me thoughtfully under his bushy brows. It made me jump when I realised he was still there and I winced with the sharp pain that shockwaved through me when I saw him. He scratched his bearded chin at me, smiling but with something serious in his eyes. I tried to rub my eyes, feigning sleep although I had actually been awake for hours.

  “You do that a lot, you know,” Idrys began, and to my horror he mimicked my motion where I placed my hands over my eyes when I let my mind travel. “I’ve seen you a few times in the sitting room, doing that, when you think no-one’s come in the room.” I swallowed dryly, but said nothing. “I asked Leighton about it the other day,” the old farmer continued, “but he just told me you get funny headaches.”

  “I, um,” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say, the old man was looking at me in a whimsical sort of way, like he had yet more words ready to fall from his lips.

  “The funny thing is,” he added, leaning forward, “I used to know someone else who did that with his hands and his eyes. That fella I was telling you about in the army, the psychic spy.”

  I felt like Bickerstaff had when I told him what I knew, helpless and shocked and angry that my secret was out. But like the doctor I had no power to deny it; no words would come to find a good excuse. Idrys knew. He already believed that people like me were possible; there was no way I could talk him out of that.

  “You moved your lips, you know,” he said amusedly, “like you were talking to someone.”

  “I was,” I replied, stunned.

  “Who?” Idrys asked.

  His old face was kind and curious. A weight that had been resting on me for a very long time suddenly disappeared. I took a very deep breath and told him everything.

  I stayed sat up in my bed all that day. The horrible Doctor Bickerstaff had not come to see me, but he had commanded three days’ rest until the fever was definitely gone. I had slept through one and half of those days already, but Mam insisted on sticking to his word. I wondered if she would be so eager to please him if she knew about him and Blod, but any part of me that wanted to spill the beans on him was overshadowed by how much I cared for Mam. It would surely have broken her
heart to know that Ness’s father was the surly doctor living just over the hill.

  Idrys left after breakfast to sort a few things out with the farm boys, but he promised he would return in the evening to advise me on Henri’s escape. He said if I was going to be there, then maybe I could take some old military tips with me and be useful. Being useful to Henri was exactly the plan, so I was keen for him to get back. I tried to sleep a little but I was too worried to really relax even though I needed to build up my strength. I had just about drifted off when a great clattering and slamming of my bedroom door told me that Blod had arrived in her usual carefree style.

  “Come on you, lunch,” she ordered.

  It took my weak limbs a little while to obey me and organise my body back into a sitting position. Blod huffed out her breaths as she stood with my lunch tray, tapping one of her heeled feet to a slow rhythm on the threadbare carpet. The very second that I looked like I was sitting right she dumped the tray over my lap so that soup dribbled out over one edge of the bowl. I righted it quickly, biting back my annoyance as my oh-so-gracious maid turned to go. A wicked thought hit me when she got to the door.

  “Blod.”

  The blonde stopped in her tracks, throwing her head back in my direction with a roll of her eyes. “What now?” she demanded.

  “If you had a secret,” I began in a low, careful tone, “And someone else found out about it, would you want them to tell you that they knew?”

  Blod’s face didn’t change at all. If I hadn’t already known that she did have a secret, her perfect features would have given nothing away. She was much better at playing it cool than Bickerstaff. She looked thoughtfully at the wooden lintel of the door, running her fingers down the doorframe.

  “Hmm,” she mused, “I suppose if it was something shameful, I’d rather they didn’t tell me they knew. It’s easier to pretend then, isn’t it?”

  Blod’s bright blue eyes became terribly pensive, focusing hard on the wood and wallpaper near her. I was dangerously close to feeling sorry for her, but I put that down to this being the first real conversation we had ever had.

  “What if it wasn’t shameful,” I offered, “just sort of… unfortunate?”

  Her rosy lip stiffened.

  “I wouldn’t want people feeling sorry for me,” she bit the ends off her words as she spoke.

  Before I could say anything else she swept her perfect frame from view and I heard her heels totter off down the stony hallway. She had left my door open and a little spring breeze filtered in, cooling my soup. As I ate I began to think that Blod and I weren’t all that different sometimes. I knew exactly how awful it was to have people giving you their sympathy all the time, like it was going to be some comfort to me that these healthy, able-bodied people had taken time out of their active lives to take pity on poor sick Kit in her chair. It would be worse for her if people knew about Ness. Poor husbandless Blod and her child.

  A shaky, bitter guilt hit my throat as I tried to eat. Perhaps I had made a mistake in threatening Doctor Bickerstaff, but there wasn’t much I could do now to put it right except to keep my big mouth shut.

  ***

  A whole day sat in bed was excruciatingly boring, save for the portion where Leighton came home from school and sat talking to me before dinner. Mam let him stay with me for the meal but I became more and more anxious as I wolfed down an overload of veggies and not much meat. Idrys had not yet returned. I had about five hours before Henri was due to make his escape from Oslo and no advice as yet from the only other person who knew of my gift. Leighton made a crumbly mess all over my covers with bread and I tried my best not to bark at him with my growing irritation.

  “You’re going potty in here alone, aren’t you?” he observed brightly.

  “It was bad enough when I was stuck in the chair,” I moaned, tapping my knee rapidly, “but this is just awful.”

  “Mam says you’re not allowed out of bed until two o’clock tomorrow exactly,” Leighton said, shaking his little head with a smile, “And Doctor B said we shouldn’t even talk to you very much until you were better, but Mam said that was going a bit far.”

  “Humph,” was all I replied to that. I knew exactly why Bickerstaff didn’t want me conversing with anyone, especially not until my bad temper had abated as much as my fever had. I wouldn’t land him in any hot water now of course, for Blod’s sake, but there was no reason that he had to know that just yet.

  Leigh was telling me about his horrid teacher at school when Idrys finally poked his bearded head around the door. He picked my brother up off the bed in his massive arms and deposited him in the doorway with a pat on the head.

  “Off you go bach, it’s my turn now,” he said. Leighton looked at me, shrugged, and went on his way. Idrys closed the door gently. “He’s a bit easily led, your brother,” he observed, “We’ll have to work on that sometime.”

  The old Welshman settled himself in the chair beside my bed and I shuffled nearer to him, my eyes wide and waiting. Idrys steepled his old hands and leant on them thoughtfully.

  “I been thinking Kit,” he said slowly, “It’s not doing all this psychic stuff that’s making you so poorly, is it?”

  My eager heart deflated. Wasn’t he going to help me?

  “No!” I insisted immediately, “No it’s that awful Doctor Bickerstaff. He tried to make me walk for ages and it was so difficult.”

  Well, most of that was true, apart from my overwhelming, seething anger and the fact that we’d been arguing. Idrys considered that for a moment then released his hands with a flick. He broke into a little sigh.

  “All right then,” he said. Relief swept across my face. “I expect if this boy of yours is trying to get out of the city, he’ll have to get past patrols and guards and things. It strikes me the most useful thing you could do is get into the heads of these guards and distract them long enough for him to get past.”

  I nodded, but with a frown. “That’s easier said than done,” I admitted, “I’m not exactly known for accuracy of getting into the right head at the right time.” I didn’t feel quite so confident any more. “But I have been getting better at it,” I added quickly.

  “Hmm,” Idrys mumbled, rubbing his beard, “Maybe you need a little target practice. Why don’t you try me?”

  “What, right now?” I was a little startled.

  The old man smiled. “Unless you’ve tried me before, of course?”

  I laughed. “No, no I haven’t. It’s just strange for someone to ask me to… jump into their head.”

  “Well it won’t be a new experience for me,” Idrys replied, “That fella I knew in the war passed me a few mind messages back in the day. I remember how it works.”

  It was a strange and awkward experience, but Idrys had that comforting charm that only granddads have, which made it a little easier for me to relax and gather my thoughts. I felt self-conscious as I raised my hands up to cover my face but I tried to push embarrassment aside. I closed my eyes, taking my two deep breaths, and suddenly I was totally disturbed by the sight of myself sitting in my bed. I was right; I looked very peculiar with my hands up like that, but I could see how Leighton would have mistaken me for having a headache if he’d ever caught me that way.

  This is so strange, I thought.

  Idrys laughed. He felt warm, but a little tense. “Would you prefer it if I looked somewhere else?”

  Yes please, I replied.

  Idrys flicked his eyes over to the fireplace and I went with him. He folded his hands over his belly.

  “Well, you did that well enough,” he remarked, “So yur’s the thing: can you now go from my head to someone else’s? See if you can get to Ness without going back to your own head first.”

  I’d never thought of doing that before, but it didn’t seem too difficult. Except that I couldn’t close my eyes again, or raise my hands like I normally would. I was going to have to just concentrate and see if I could get there without any physical moves. I pushed myself away from
Idrys and his warm heart, thinking instead of Ness’s huge blue eyes, her joyous giggle and her precious Dolly. And I was in the kitchen. I could feel Dolly’s hand in Ness’s mouth. She looked up just in time to see Blod snatch the rag doll out of her grip. Ness dropped her mouth open in protest.

  “Ych a fi!” Blod said, shaking her head. “This thing’s dirty bach, you’ve got to let me wash her now.”

  I felt Ness’s bottom lip quiver. Her little heart was turning hot and her brows were coming down hard into the tantrum of all tantrums, something I did not want to be sitting in her mind to witness. But instead of sinking back into the blackness that would pull me to my own head, I thought with all my strength of Idrys again. He was standing by the fire now, warming his coarse farmer’s hands.

  I did it! I exclaimed, making him prick up his ears. He looked around and I saw myself on the bed, still entranced. I went to Ness’s head and I came back to yours, without stopping off at my head at all!