"How about getting dressed first, young lady?" Beth said.
"After I've had some cornflakes."
Beth frowned at her. "Dressed before you have cornflakes. You know the rules."
"You're not dressed." Sue was going through an argumentative stage. Logical but infuriating.
"I haven't had breakfast yet."
Sue pointed to the empty coffee cup sitting on the table next to an ashtray with two cigarette ends in it. "You have too!" she said.
"And I know a young lady who's going to get her backside spanked if she doesn't stop being cheeky to her mother and go and get some clothes on."
Sue stared at her mother and realised she meant it. "It's not fair," she mumbled as she stomped back up the stairs.
Jack Masters rolled over onto his back and half-opened his eyes. Mercifully Beth had left the curtains closed so the light entering the room was filtered to a pale orange. He had the bitter taste in his mouth of a few too many cigarettes and far too much to drink. His teeth felt like they had grown fur.
Yesterday had been his last day at Associated Insurance and he and a few workmates had gone on the town to celebrate. It had been three in the morning when he finally crawled into bed. Now he was paying the price for having a good time.
The door flew open and Cathy ran into the room, taking a flying leap at the bed and landing on top of him.
"Wake up, lazy bones, it's picnic day," she squealed into his ear.
Jack uncurled one of his long arms from the cover of the duvet and wrapped it around his daughter's waist, pulling her down next to him.
Cathy pulled a face. "Dragon breath!" she said and turned her head away.
"I love you too, sweetheart,"
"Can I fix you some Alka-Seltzer?" Cathy asked excitedly. She liked watching the tablets bubble in the water.
Jack nodded. "What day did you say it was?"
"It's picnic day, remember?" Cathy said as she ran to the bathroom.
Oh God yes, the picnic. All he really wanted was to lie here for the rest of the day, in the half-light, letting the rest of the world...Cathy came back into the room clutching a glass of hissing liquid. Jack made an effort and sat up to take the Alka-Seltzer from her. "Thanks, darling."
"That's okay. Are you going to get up after you've had that?"
"In a little while." He gulped the liquid down and laid back. Cathy ran to the window and drew the curtains wide. Jack groaned and closed his eyes, as brilliant sunshine blazed into the room.
"Have you had breakfast yet?" he asked.
Cathy clamped a hand to her brow like an old man out of breath. "Oh no! I'd better go and have it now."
"That's my girl. You go down to mummy or else you'll be so hungry you'll eat all the picnic food and leave none for me."
Cathy shook her head earnestly. "Oh, I'd never do a thing like that."
"You might if you don't have a good breakfast."
"You're right, I suppose," she said. "I'll tell mummy you're getting up now."
"Ask her to pour me a cup of coffee, please." When his daughter had left the room he rolled over, opened his eyes and looked at the clock on the bedside table.
"Oh no, seven thirty," he muttered, and wondered how he was going to manage to get through the day with a king-size hangover.
The girls were eating their cereal, watching Beth load the picnic hamper. She stood at the worktop, running over everything in her mind, stopping now and then to take a mouthful of toast that was rapidly growing cold. It was going to be a hot day. She went to the refrigerator and took out some cold cans of soft drink for the girls and some beer for Jack, though she doubted if he'd feel much like alcohol after last night. She'd been awake when he'd finally stumbled into bed but she said nothing to him. He deserved to let his hair down once in a while, and yesterday was a good cause for celebration.
Over the years she'd watched how working at Associated Insurance had affected him. He was thirty-five, into heart attack country now. She loved her husband and she'd had no hesitation in gently pushing him into finding a new job. A job that didn't place so many demands on him. A job that he could switch off from when he got home in the evenings. He was still a young man with a young wife, and two adorable children, whom they both cherished. Associated Insurance had given him grey hair prematurely and she hated them for that.
Jack came down, dressed but unshaven, and flopped down at the kitchen table, reaching out for his coffee with a hand that shook slightly.
"Have fun last night?" Beth asked.
"Too much."
The girls both started at once, asking where they were going, how long would it take to get there, what they were going to do when they finally got there.
Beth cut them off. "Let daddy have his breakfast in peace," she said. "He's got a long drive out to the country and he can't drive all that way on an empty stomach." She turned to Jack. "Scrambled eggs, or do you want the works...bacon, eggs, mushrooms...?"
"Enough, enough. Just coffee."
Beth smiled at him mischievously.
"Daddy's hung over," Cathy said bluntly. "He got me to fix him an Alka-Seltzer."
"No telling tales out of school, young lady," Beth said. "Daddy's just suffering from too much of a good time, right, Jack?"
Jack gave her a pained smile and sipped his coffee.
"I thought we lived in the country," Sue said, changing the subject suddenly.
"This isn't the real country, with fields and woods. We're going to find a place where there aren't any cars."
"Except ours," Jack said, the hot coffee allowing him to get more into the mood of things. "Just peace and quiet and the Masters family."
Beth went across and kissed him on the cheek. "Love you," she whispered in his ear.
"You too," he said, and smacked her bottom playfully.
"What did they say?" Cathy said to her sister.
"Just sloppy stuff," Sue said.
"Yuch!"
Jack and Beth looked at each other then burst into a fit of laughter.
"Parents are mad," Sue said solemnly. Cathy nodded in agreement.
They packed the hamper into the back of the car and managed to persuade Cathy not to bring Stripes. She was always upset when she had to leave him behind. Beth let her take her teddy bear instead.
The roads were clear and soon they were far away from the town and suburbs. The girls started eating, and the noise from the back of the car was unusually muted. Beth acted as navigator, reading the directions from a map spread out on her lap. They planned to stop at a place they had never visited before. A place with a wood and fields and perhaps even a stream. A summer idyll for a family living in the centre of a sprawling, noisy town.
* * * * * * * *
There was a stream by the woods, where a field met the trees in a low dip in the land. Grass fell away to the shingle of a stream bed, with beckoning water rushing cool and clear over rounded stones.
The stream was part of the scene set out to entice the strangers to the field. The trees, the birdsong, the animals, all would lure the unwary visitors and lead them into the woods. There the whistle would release those who had waited patiently for so long.
Trees in the wood were still, as if anticipating that this was the day, the special day. Birds sat in the leaf laden branches, silent, secretive, playing their part, waiting for the right moment to open their beaks and let their songs be carried on the hot summer air. To entice, when their time came.
When the time came on this day the sun would blaze hotter, the birds would sing, the trees would move their roots to throw up the ancient whistle, and it would sound once more.
A tremor of anticipation rippled through the wood. Bushes shook, dense ferns waved as if washed by a breeze, boughs of trees creaked impatiently, for an instant the birds took flight. Then the wood was still once more. Waiting, waiting for the right moment.
The last people to find the whistle had thought it harmless. When they discovered their mistake they took it
to a remote wood and buried it; digging deep with their hands, digging until their nails were split and broken, until their fingers bled.
They had blown on the whistle just once. That was enough. Of all the creatures to have heard the whistle's cry over the centuries, only the humans had suffered. The others remained nearby, ready to join in the chaos the next time it was found.
Over the years the earth had shifted, wind and weather had worn away the soil. Now at last the whistle was close to the surface. Close enough to be found. Close enough for a tune to be blown.
* * * * * * * *
"We're here," Beth said.
"At last," Jack muttered under his breath. With the best will in the world, Beth could not be called the greatest navigator of all time. He'd lost count of the number of wrong turnings they'd taken. At one point Beth even turned the map upside down in the vain hope she might understand it better that way round. The girls had grown progressively restless in the back of the car, until in an effort to occupy them, Beth had started a game of I Spy.
"I spy with my little eye something beginning with D," began Cathy.
"Daddy," Sue said.
"That's not fair, you cheated!" Cathy shouted. The game didn't last very long after that.
Jack parked the car in the shade and got out to stretch his legs, while Beth unloaded the picnic gear. Together they carried the hamper to the fringe of the wood so they could sit and eat on the firm dry grass, and still be protected from the harsh sunlight by the canopy of the trees.
As Beth laid out the food, Jack joined in a game of tag with the girls, though he tired quickly and soon they all sat down to eat. They sat round a checked cloth and ate and rested, enjoying the peace. Birds sang sweetly from the trees in the wood, and occasionally a fully laden bee droned past, giving the day a lazy tone. Not that Jack needed much encouragement to be lazy. He still hadn't fully shaken off the effects of his hangover.
The food somehow seemed to taste better for being eaten out of doors under a hot sun. They sipped their drinks from plastic beakers, except Jack who insisted beer tasted better straight from the can, overriding Beth's protest with a wink and a smile. Slowly, after they had eaten, one by one, they laid back on the grass and closed their eyes, content just to lay there and listen to the peaceful sounds of a hot summer's day.
"Mummy, look a squirrel," Cathy said, sitting up and pointing. They all turned to see a little grey furry creature squatting beneath a tree, on the edge of the wood, only a few yards from them. Sue got to her feet and took a step towards it. The squirrel sat back on its haunches and raised its front paws to its face, preening its whiskers, all the time watching them with quick darting eyes. Sue took another step, and then another. Still the animal didn't move. Only when Cathy stood up as well did it turn and skitter away, back into the cover of the trees.
"Oh, you scared it," Sue said.
"I didn't. It was you. You got too close."
"Let's go and find it," Sue said.
"No, Sue. You and Cathy stay where we can see you. I don't want to have to send a search party out for you when it's time to go home."
Jack slid his hand over Beth's. "Let them go, sweetheart. They can't come to any harm."
"I'm not so sure," Beth said, but she felt Jack squeeze her hand in reassurance. "Okay, you two. Off you go, but don't go too far away. Our car's there, stay where you can see it."
"Can I take teddy?" Cathy asked.
Sue wheeled on her. "Sometimes you're nothing but a big baby."
"Look the squirrel!" Cathy yelled, neatly deflecting Sue's protest.
"Where? I can't see it."
"There." Cathy pointed vaguely in the direction of the wood. "Come on." She picked up her teddy bear by one arm and ran off into the wood, leaving Sue yards behind.
"Wait, Cathy," Sue protested, and started to run after her sister.
In the shadow of an old gnarled oak tree, the squirrel sat waiting. When it heard the sound of running feet it hopped out from the cover of the tree into sight of the girls. It paused for a moment, waiting until they were almost upon it, before turning and running deeper into the wood.
Cathy and Sue followed eagerly. Soon they were out of sight of their parents, and when Sue glanced back she couldn't see the car either.
"Hurry, slowcoach," Cathy called back to her.
"Cathy, wait! I can't see daddy's car."
"We'll lose the squirrel if you don't keep up."
Sue took another pensive look back, then shrugged, and ran to catch up with Cathy.
They were being led further and further into the wood. The trees were becoming denser, the undergrowth thicker, but the sun had trickled itself through the leaves of the trees to make the wood seem light and airy, so the girls wouldn't be scared. The squirrel skipped ahead, tantalisingly always just beyond their reach. Above them the birds sang quietly in the branches, and as they ran, a thousand eyes watched them.
Deep in the middle of the wood was a small clearing. Under a large beech tree the whistle lay, protruding slightly from the earth, just enough metal showing to catch the sun and glint dully, allowing it to be seen clearly by anyone entering the clearing. The squirrel saw it first. It stopped and turned, waiting for the girls to catch up so that they would see it too.
It was getting warm in the woods and Cathy slowed to a walk, the teddy bear hanging limply, trailing on the ground behind her as her tired legs plodded forwards. It was Sue's turn to lead now, her turn to goad and cajole. "Now who's the slowcoach?"
"How much further?" Cathy moaned. "I'm tired, Sue."
"What about the squirrel?"
Cathy had lost patience with the squirrel. "Who cares?" she said. "It probably doesn't want to get caught anyway."
"Oh come on." Sue ran back and caught hold of her sister's hand, and together they began to run forward again.
They were both running fast when they burst into the clearing. The squirrel scampered up a tree and sat in a high branch, looking down on them with mocking little eyes. Sue pointed upwards and called out, "There it is!" But her sister had lost all interest in the squirrel now. She had found the whistle.
"What have you got there?" Sue asked.
"It's mine. I found it," Cathy said.
"Let's see."
Sue crouched down beside her younger sister and held out her hand. Cathy shook her head. "No, you'll steal it."
"I won't...promise. It looks like a whistle. Show me."
Cathy looked up at her from under eyelids hooded by suspicion. "Promise you won't steal it?"
"I promise."
"Cross your heart and spit."
She crossed her heart and spat. Cathy handed her the whistle. Sue tapped it against the side of the tree to remove some of the earth caked around it. It was about ten inches long and made from brass. Engraved along its length was an intricate pattern of snakes and leaves intertwined, in places merging, a leaf becoming a snake’s head, patterns on the snakes becoming leaves.
"It looks very old," Sue said as she studied it.
"How would you know?" Cathy said sceptically.
"Well you look, see how worn it is, there where the pattern has rubbed off."
Cathy took it and examined it closely. "That's not where it's worn," she said. "That's where your fingers go when you hold it. Look."
She placed her fingers on the plain parts of the whistle and showed her sister. Then she put it to her lips and blew hard. Her face grew red. There was something blocking it. She took it from her mouth and rapped it against the tree again. A pebble and some earth dropped out from the end of the whistle. Cathy put it to her lips again and blew. This time the whistle sounded. A thin note filled the air, high pitched and piercing, reverberating around the clearing, shrill and harsh. Sue clapped her hands to her ears, and called for her sister to stop, but the note went on and on.
The wood suddenly became silent as the note finally ended. The birds were still, not a leaf rustled in the branches of the trees, not a solitary insect buzzed
through the air. The squirrel had disappeared, its task completed.
Back in the field Beth suddenly sat upright. "What was that?" she said.
Jack was still half-asleep. "What was what?"
"Didn't you hear it? A sort of whistling sound."
"I didn't hear anything."
Beth was cold. The sun blazed down on her but the note from the whistle had robbed her body of heat. She shivered. "Jack." She shook him. "Jack wake up. I want to go and find the girls."
"They're playing. Relax." He reached for her to pull her down beside him.
She brushed his hand away. "No dammit, I mean it! Something's not right."
Jack sat up. "Like what?" He could see from the expression on her face the clowning had to stop.
"I don't know. It's just a feeling I suppose. Probably my maternal instinct. I just know we've got to find them. Trust me."
Jack took her hand and together they walked quickly to the wood, calling Sue and Cathy's names.
Cathy still held the whistle to her lips. She'd stopped blowing. She was staring blankly ahead of her, as though in a trance.
"Let me try," Sue said petulantly. The sound of the whistle had hurt her ears. It was Cathy's fault, she wasn't blowing it right.
Cathy didn't hear her sister. Her head was spinning. The sun was burning. The silence was suffocating. And worst of all, she couldn't move. She stood there paralysed. All she could move were her eyes, and they darted from side to side. To the trees. To the shadows. All around her now, shadows, pressing in from the undergrowth, encircling her, cutting off the sunlight. She wanted to scream, to cry out a warning to her sister, but her voice was paralysed like the rest of her.
The trees began to shake, a cold wind blew through the clearing, leaving rustling ferns and undergrowth in its wake, making the long grass in the clearing ripple like water. The air was split by birdsong, not sweet, not melodic, but harsh, discordant. Strange scents hung in the air, jasmine, box, honeysuckle, and sour, bitter scents she had never smelt before, biting at her skin, furring her tongue. Above the noise she could still hear the whistle, even though she knew other lips were blowing it now. It was louder, more strident. It confused her mind, made her afraid. She wanted the shadows to go away, yet she knew that until the whistle stopped they would not go. Instead they would creep nearer and nearer, nearer until...
Echoes of Darkness Page 12