Portent

by James Herbert

  'How's Diane coping?'

  'She was still with Eva when Bibby and I spoke. I think she's afraid to leave her side in case Eva simply slips away. No reason for that to happen, of course, but…' He tucked the pipe back into his mouth and waved a hand helplessly. 'It's all so bloody strange, isn't it? Josh claims they both had the same nightmare, but he escaped from it by running away. Now Eva appears to be stuck there, held by something monstrous-a dream witch, d'you suppose?-that won't let her go. Can a nightmare, no matter how traumatic, really have that kind of power?'

  'Not as far as two healthy kids are concerned.'

  'Then what's the answer?'

  Rivers shifted in his seat, aware of the other man's scrutiny. 'Josh and Eva are different from any other kids I've known. You've told me they have unusual mental powers and, judging by the healing treatment they gave my leg yesterday, I'm inclined to believe you.' He didn't mention that the pain had returned with a vengeance during the night.

  'What's your point?'

  'Their mental-sorry, psychic-powers might have a downside. The twins could be vulnerable psychologically.'

  'To what exactly?' There was no criticism in Poggs' tone, only interest.

  Rivers shrugged. 'That's the mystery. But it might help Eva if a psychologist found out.'

  'While she's asleep?'

  'Through Josh.'

  'I don't think Diane would agree to that. The implication would be that there was something mentally wrong with the children.'

  'That's an old-fashioned view.'

  'Nevertheless, a very real one. And particularly so for someone whose children are adopted. It takes a long time for such parents to lose the feeling that their little ones can be taken away from them, irrational though that may seem, and remember, Diane has already lost a husband. No, there has to be another way.'

  That may be so, but in this case

  They both became aware of Josh standing in the doorway at the same time. He was wearing his Peter Pan nightshirt, his feet bare on the wood floor, and he was smiling triumphantly.

  'I know where to find the Dream Man, Grandad,' he said.

  19

  Josh squirmed excitedly in his seat as Diane endeavoured to strap him in. Next to them Rivers clicked in his own seat-belt, then did his best to relax, allowing his gaze to drift around the aircraft's cabin. The flight was packed with 500 tourists and businessmen and he had been lucky to book passage for himself, Diane, and Josh at such short notice. As it was, they had been forced to take the flight to Glasgow out of Gatwick rather than London Heathrow, which meant a longer drive from Dorset, but at least marginally less congestion at the airport itself. He longed for a cigarette and silently cursed the worldwide airline ban on smoking; mercifully the journey would take little more than an hour, maybe less if they had a tail wind behind them.

  The European Airbus trundled smoothly towards the runway and a smiling stewardess offered Josh a boiled sweet. He sucked it with relish, another part of the flying experience for him to enjoy. Rivers wished his own nerves were as untroubled, but one crash-landing in anybody's lifetime was enough to curb any such pleasure. He gripped the armrests as the engines gathered power. Then they were rolling forward, picking up speed, the battle between gravity and excessive weight swiftly reaching its climax. They were airborne, but Rivers did not breathe a surreptitious sigh of relief until the plane had banked and the engines had taken on a steady drone. He felt a hand over his and realised Diane had noticed his unease.

  'Thank you, Jim,' she said.

  'For what?'

  'Helping. It must be difficult for you to believe in us.'

  'I'm still not sure that I do. But at least…' he searched for a reason, as much for himself as for Diane '… at least I feel I'm doing something positive instead of standing by while the world carries on destroying itself-or rather, destroying us. Besides, if our trip will help Eva…'

  'It will. I just know it will. We may not understand what's happening, but there are definite links that we can't ignore. If we locate this man-this Dream Man, as Josh calls him-then maybe we'll have some answers.'

  'You're sure he'll be where Josh says?'

  She nodded and her soft brown eyes were earnest as they looked into his. 'I know it, Jim.'

  Rivers wondered as he glanced past her at the boy, then out at the thick layer of clouds they had risen above. It could be a wild-goose chase, a completely irrational and desperate one at that. When Josh had claimed he knew where to find the Dream Man the day before, his grandfather had led him to the world map in his study once again and there the boy had stood on a chair and immediately pointed to the country where he believed the man in his dreams to be. Rivers had assumed this person was a fantasy, someone the twins had merely dreamt about or invented; but no, Josh had insisted he was real-real and living in Scotland. He had almost laughed aloud when the eight-year-old had jabbed his finger at the map, and only weariness from the sleepless night filled by lengthy discussions with Hugo Poggs, plus the seriousness of Poggs' interest, had prevented him from doing so. The geophysicist had searched among his many old Ordnance Survey maps and produced several covering various areas of Scotland-'The Scottish Highlands have been carved from some of the most complicated geological structures on Earth,' he had said to explain his past interest to Rivers-and Josh had leaned over them on the study table, his face puckered up with concentration, his small shoulders almost touching his ears with the tension. He had found a place, or at least an area, that seemed to have some significance in whatever intuitions his latest dream had evoked.

  An extensive volcanic rift, linked by a series of long deep waters from the Firth of Lorn to the Moray Firth, and known as the Great Glen, split Scotland in half, and it was to the mid-region of this that the boy drew their attention. 'He's here!'Josh had exclaimed, showing them a region of smaller lochs at right angles to the larger ones. 'The Dream Man lives here.'

  It had been Diane's decision when she returned from the hospital later that day to take her son to this place. Eva did not appear to be suffering physically and the doctors were sure there was no danger for the moment; nevertheless, the unusual sleep persisted. She had asked Rivers to accompany them to Scotland while Bibby kept a vigil at the hospital and Hugo Poggs stayed at Hazelrod to liaise between both parties, and he had agreed.

  The A320 was over the Midlands when Rivers saw the light outside the aircraft window.

  Josh had just finished breakfast-Rivers and Diane had refused theirs, preferring coffee and biscuits-and the climatologist had been talking to Diane when the small brightness outside had attracted his attention. She saw him stiffen and turned to see for herself.

  'Is that it?' she said breathlessly.

  Rivers squinted his eyes, now unsure. There was a rainbow effect around the ball of light as it hovered above the cloudbank.

  'Oh, they're quite normal, sir.' An air hostess was leaning over Rivers to retrieve Josh's tray. 'It's only an aureole of light reflecting off the clouds. It's pretty, isn't it?' She took the tray handed to her by Diane and went on her way to attend to other passengers.

  Rivers let his breath go. 'She's right-it's not the same. I've just got the jitters.'

  'You and me both,' said Diane.

  'Me, too,' Josh admitted brightly enough. 'I keep thinking about the Dream Man.'

  'Can you describe him, Josh?' It was Rivers who wanted to know.

  'He's not clear when I really try to make a picture of him. He goes sort of fuzzy. His voice sounds old, though. And I'm sure he's got white hair. I can sort of see that.'

  'Tell us about the dreams again, Josh,' Diane urged.

  'Mama,' said Josh meaningfully.

  'Just once more. It's important.'

  With an exaggerated groan the boy re-related the dream he'd shared with Eva, then went on to his own subsequent dream, describing both the events and the surroundings in great detail, as if taking them from a picture-book laid out before him. By the time he had finished and they had q
uestioned him further, the plane was beginning its descent.

  They had only hand luggage with them, so there were no delays once they landed. Formalities for the hiring of a car were minimal and within twenty minutes of arrival they were crossing the bridge over the River Clyde and then on the main trunk road that would take them right to their destination. They travelled alongside Loch Lomond for many miles and, despite their quest, were able to appreciate its dark beauty. Soon they were driving through a range of mountains whose snow-topped peaks were unaffected by the season's sultry heat. The lowest clouds seemed to snag on their points before drifting off in fleecy tatters.

  Although the road was busy with tourist traffic, their progress was good, and two hours later they had passed through Fort William and were approaching the little town they had decided would be their base. The towering hulk of Ben Nevis loomed large on their right as they drew near.

  Spean Bridge was a hamlet rather than a town, with shops and houses built along the roadside and with a tiny railway station tucked away at the back. Diane spotted the small hotel as they drove through and Rivers pulled over to park by the front entrance. Fortunately, there were a few rooms available and they booked two next door to each other. After a quick snack they went to Rivers' room where he spread a map on one of the twin beds.

  Take a good look, Josh,' he told the boy, bringing him over to the map. This is the area you pointed at before. You said the Dream Man is somewhere here…' He circled his finger around a region of parallel lochs. This is where we are now…' He indicated the town. 'Can you be more specific, Josh?' The boy screwed up his face. 'I mean can you point out exactly where you think the Dream Man is?'

  'I think…'Josh frowned, his eyes intent on the map. 'I think… he's… here.' He dabbed at an area where three lochs almost joined together in a straight line.

  'You're sure?'

  The boy leaned his elbows on the bed and tapped at his lower lip with a finger. He murmured noncommittally, drawing out the sound. He looked up at his mother. 'I only think so,' he said apologetically.

  That's all right, darling,' Diane assured him. 'We just want you to do your best, okay? Now take another look and see if you still feel the same.'

  He scrutinized the map once again, his face cupped in his hands. 'It's not clear any more,' he complained.

  Rivers and Diane exchanged glances. 'What do we do?' she said. 'I thought Josh would be even more definite when we were closer to the source.'

  'We'll take him for a drive around the lochs and stop here and there to let him walk. It may come to him then. If we find any houses or cottages we'll just knock on the door.'

  'And say what?'

  Rivers shrugged. 'Whatever comes to mind. Are you tired, Josh? D'you need a rest after the journey?'

  The boy jumped up from the bed. 'I'm not tired at all. Can we go out on a boat?'

  Diane drew him to her. 'There's no time for that. We're here to find the Dream Man, remember? It might just help Eva if we do.'

  'He will, Mama. The Dream Man always looks after us. He watches over us while we play.'

  Like a shepherd? Rivers mused. He studied the boy and wondered what went on in these dreams. Did they mean anything at all, or were they merely the fantasies of two imaginative and oversensitive kids? And if there was nothing to them, and this person, this Dream Man, did not exist, did that mean everything Diane and Hugo Poggs had tried to convince him of had no validity? With all the other phenomena-the freakish weather patterns, the inexplicable earth ruptures, and the mysterious light, itself-that wasn't necessarily so. But there was a test ahead of them that might disperse or strengthen his doubts. He guessed Diane was aware of the conflict still raging within him, although they had not discussed the consequences of failure; but now she had other reasons for seeking answers up here in the Highlands, for success might mean that Eva could be drawn from her unnatural slumber. On that score alone, Rivers hoped the Dream Man was real.

  'Are we ready?' he asked, the significance of the simple question not lost on Diane.

  She nodded and, unnoticed by Josh who was already scooting towards the door, touched a hand to Rivers' cheek. He caught her fingers and held them briefly before allowing them to drop away.

  'It's going to be fine,' he said, with no conviction at all.

  As they passed through the hotel's comfortable lobby the man now on duty behind the receptionist's desk bid them good-day and introduced himself as the owner.

  'Will y'be sightseein' or will y'be walkin' this afternoon?' he enquired. 'Because if it's the sightseein' from your car, ye'll be fine, but if it's the walkin' ye'll be needin' something stronger on your feet.' His heavy brogue was barely comprehensible to Josh, but he followed the hotelier's pointing finger.

  Rivers looked down at his tan sneakers also and then at Diane, who nodded her head in agreement. She had provided walking boots for herself and Josh, but had nothing at Hazelrod suitable for Rivers.

  'Now, if ye don't mind my suggestion, there's a wee store doon the road where they'll find something for ye.' The hotelier, a strong-faced man with a nose and cheeks full of broken veins, grinned broadly. 'On th'other hand, ye kin tell me to be mindin' ma own business.'

  'No, you're right,' said Rivers. 'We came away in a rush. I'll take your advice.'

  'It's just that the tracks tend t'be rocky and the moorlands are treacherous here and there with the bogs. We've had some awkward mists appear with this kind o' weather too, but as long as ye don't wander from the main paths ye'll be fine.'

  They thanked him for his concern and drove down to the store he had mentioned. Rivers emerged five minutes later wearing a tough-looking pair of walking boots, his jeans tucked into their tops. He tossed his sneakers into the back of the car as he got back into the driving seat.

  'Sure you don't want me to drive?' Diane asked, anxious that his leg might be causing pain after such a long journey.

  'Better that you keep a lookout with Josh. If he reacts to anything at all, let me know and we'll investigate. Okay, Josh?'

  The boy's enthusiasm had faded. He observed the hills beyond the town gravely and said, 'I'm a little bit afraid.'

  As Diane reached over and pulled her son towards her, Rivers, too, stared at the distant hills. The summer's sun had burnt much of the rugged slopes to a golden brown, and the weighty, yellow-tinted clouds that hung over them diffused the light to a mellow glow. Yet there was something ominous in the landscape, an idle broodiness that was unnerving. Rivers was afraid too.

  ***

  He drank brandy, Diane sipped white wine. They were in the hotel's spartan lounge bar, with Josh sound asleep in the twin-bedded room he shared with his mother. Every ten minutes or so, Diane quietly looked in on him, then rejoined Rivers at their table in the comer of the bar.

  They examined the map spread out before them yet again as if attempting to sense some clue therein.

  'I didn't expect us to find him right away,' said Rivers, straightening a crease in the paper. 'One afternoon of searching doesn't mean very much.'

  'Josh seemed so certain before we started.' Diane ran her fingers over the terrain as if a braille message might be contained within. 'He was weeping with disappointment when I put him to bed.'

  'Tomorrow he'll be rested and maybe more receptive.'

  'But he was so sure of the area.' She withdrew from the map and glanced around the bar as though there might be someone there who could help with their hunt. The room was full, although not crowded, and conversations were conducted in moderate tones, for the hotel was the kind used by dedicated ramblers and climbers rather than fun-seeking tourists. The local sights were the fun, but much of it had to be earned by some hard walking, whether around loch sides and moorlands, or along mountain tracks. The bar next door, used mainly by locals, was livelier and occasional bursts of laughter would drift through.

  While Diane was putting Josh to bed earlier, Rivers had taken the opportunity to chat to the plump middle-aged barmaid, and then the
hotelier himself, who had wandered through. His questions were necessarily vague, but the hotelier assured him that the glens and hillsides were dotted with lonely abodes, the inhabitants of which were rarely seen from one year to another. Many of the croft cottages were now deserted, bleak hardship a discredited mistress in this day and age. Certainly there were still those who lived a life apart, reclusives who shunned civilization and most of what it offered, but these people were generally known only by their closest neighbours, and 'closest' could mean several miles away. The post office or the town's grocery store, which still made deliveries to some of the more remote parts, might be of some help, 'but then ye'd nid a name,' McKay, the hotelier, had advised. Rivers offered no explanation for their search, nor was any sought; they did gaze at him with some curiosity, though, as he made his way back to his table.

  Rivers lit a cigarette, then reached into his jacket pocket for the tin pill box he carried there. He swallowed two pills with an adequate amount of brandy, then inhaled on the cigarette as though it were part of the ritual.

  'Are you supposed to drink with those painkillers?' Diane was watching him doubtfully.

  'No, but somehow it makes them more effective.'

  'I'm sure that's only in the mind.'

  'Yeah, like a lot of things.'

  She stiffened and he added hastily, 'Hey, I didn't mean anything by that. They say all pain is in the mind anyway, so maybe alcohol helps me to forget.'

  'Tony used to say he drank to help him remember.'

  'Remember what?'

  'How much he enjoyed being drunk. His sense of humour was morbid at the best of times.' She looked down into her lap, avoiding his eyes. 'This isn't going to work, is it?' she said quietly.

  He couldn't find the words immediately to reassure her and he noticed tears glistening in her eyelashes.

  'We haven't given it a chance yet,' he said, laying his cigarette in an ashtray and lightly touching her arm.