Soon

by Lois Murphy

  There’s an uncomfortable pause while Milly stands holding my keys. ‘I thought psychics could be trusted?’ she says. Then she sees my face and pulls back, holding up her hands in submission. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Milly, I’ve got to get going.’

  ‘At least call the station. Don’t go alone.’

  I’m impatient, about to dismiss this, but it’s probably a good idea. I’d been planning to threaten them with trespassing charges – if I’ve got the local constabulatory with me it’ll save arguments. And time.

  Thankfully it’s Kathy on duty when I call. She’s a good cop, brisk, efficient. When I tell her there’s a group of intruders at our place in Nebulah with a view to spending the night, she asks what time it is, calculates quickly, and says she’ll be over to pick me up in ten minutes. As I leave I ask Milly to book rooms at the motel. At the Land Cruiser I unlock the gun cabinet.

  Kath notes the coat slung over my arm when she pulls up, and she frowns. She knows the .22 is under it. ‘If that comes at all, it stays locked in the boot.’

  ‘Your call.’

  She drives fast, skilfully, her seat pushed far back to accommodate her belly. She must be seven months by now, she’s getting large.

  ‘How come you got Saturday?’ I ask her.

  ‘Denham hasn’t had a day off since Sean went on leave. I’m only part-time now.’ She pats her stomach. ‘I offered.’

  ‘Ah.’ I can’t help smirking. ‘Dedicated Denham.’

  She shoots me a look, half measures of amusement and disapproval. ‘He’s a hard worker.’

  I acknowledge the rebuff and let it drop. ‘When’s bub due?’

  ‘Two more months. The sooner the better, according to my blood pressure. And my back.’

  ‘Otherwise okay?’

  ‘Not taking any chances.’ She gives me a hard look. ‘None. We’re getting this over quick smart. You’d better fill me in on your little mates.’ I start to feel more relaxed. I know Kath when she’s on a mission. I’d hate to be in Xandrea’s shoes when we get there.

  It’s over mercifully quickly. They’re at my place, and are shamefaced and cowed when they see the squad car. They’re still outside, exploring the locked house, trying to find a way in; they drift to an uncomfortable group at the sound of the approaching car, crestfallen when they see the insignia. When the owner turns up with the cops, you can’t really argue that you’ve been invited. Excitement is quickly defused in the face of stark reality. The rain has slowed to a fine drizzle.

  Alice moves to the side of the man who has been trying the front door, a stocky, unkempt youth with sandy hair. He reaches an arm around her. The others examine their feet as we pull up. The sharp slam of the car doors ricochets around us. Kath hoists up her belt and adjusts the rim of her hat. ‘Afternoon,’ she greets them, her voice deadpan. ‘I’m assuming you guys are well aware you’re on private property?’

  The woman called Xandrea, an unimaginative goth with overdyed hair and too much jewellery, begins some bravado, claiming that as free citizens they can go where they like, but Kath doesn’t even bother with her. The look she directs into Xandrea’s heavily kohled eyes is withering, and she isn’t even angry.

  She turns to address the others, effectively writing Xandrea off. ‘It’s your choice. You can get back in your car and leave this minute as “free citizens”, or I can arrest you for trespass and attempted break and enter and escort you to Woodford police station for charging.’

  They look uneasy, recognising that they have no choice, but they’re reluctant to bow to such heavy-handedness. Alice stands with her eyes lowered, looking bereft. Kath glances at her watch. ‘That wasn’t a question. In the car now or I start reading rights.’

  The Cambodian boy, a serious-looking beanpole with trendy geometrical glasses, breaks from the group and stalks over to the station wagon, folding himself into the back seat. A young, overweight girl with pigtailed hair trails awkwardly after him. The boy next to Alice – Rob, I assume – takes Alice’s arm, stroking it gently. ‘Come on,’ he whispers to her. As they pass she looks at me, half-beseeching.

  ‘Milly’s booked rooms at the motel in Woodford. But you two can stay with us if you’d rather.’

  Alice looks torn. As yet she hasn’t said a word to me. The boy puts his hand on her back. ‘We’ll talk it over,’ he says. ‘Thanks.’ At the car he gets into the driver’s seat and fires the engine.

  ‘We’ll be tailing you into town,’ Kath calls to them, then turns with a no-nonsense expression to the remaining woman. ‘Coming, love?’ There is more than a faint trace of sarcasm in her voice.

  The woman crosses her arms, uncomfortably defiant. Rings laden with gaudy stones in Celtic settings weigh down her fingers.

  ‘Maybe she should stay,’ I suggest, quietly.

  Kath appears to ruminate. ‘Well, she is a free citizen, and if she has your permission, then legally there’s nothing I can do. Right, well, let’s get these others back to safety, then.’

  Xandrea’s flush is so deep it almost overwhelms her henna. She’s not convinced we’re bluffing. Which is as well for her – we’re not. She manages to hold her ground till we reach the patrol car and Kath calls to the others to get a move on, then she stalks over to the station wagon. I note that although it’s Alice’s Rob driving, Alice herself is crammed into the back seat with the other two. Xandrea rides in the front.

  I’d very much like to leave that one here after all.

  Back in town we steer them to the motel. As Kath drops me off she shifts uncomfortably in her seat, then hauls herself out to stretch. It isn’t till then that I notice the strain around her eyes.

  ‘Too much?’

  She’s pressing her fists against her lower back, leaning back against them. She nods. ‘Long drive,’ she says. ‘Don’t think I’ll be doing much more of that for a while.’

  ‘Bath,’ I say.

  She checks her watch. ‘Very shortly.’ She lowers herself back into the car, groaning. ‘Good luck with this lot. Happy to lay charges against the Moon Goddess there.’ She gestures towards Xandrea, who is regarding the motel office with obvious disgust.

  ‘I’ll get Milly over,’ I tell her, ‘she’ll sort her out.’

  Kath laughs. ‘Too right she will.’ She gestures towards the boot of the car. ‘I’ll drop your accessory off on my way past.’

  Alice and Rob approach as she drives away. Alice is grey and looks close to tears.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she begins immediately. ‘I should never have come without asking you first.’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘You shouldn’t.’

  ‘It just seemed such a great opportunity. I got overexcited.’

  ‘It’s dangerous to be overexcited in Nebulah.’ I look at the man standing beside her and nod.

  ‘God, I’m hopeless today.’ Alice jumps. ‘Pete, this is Rob.’

  We shake hands. He doesn’t try to impress with his grip and his gaze seems steady, through messy hair.

  ‘Will you stay with us?’ I ask.

  Alice looks awkward. It’s Rob who answers. ‘It might be more diplomatic if we stay with the others. Under the circumstances.’

  ‘Fair enough. I can recommend the Arms for a good feed.’

  ‘Sounds good. Will you join us?’ He adds, almost coyly, ‘Alice talks about you guys all the time.’

  ‘Please,’ Alice chimes in. ‘I owe you a drink. Several.’

  ‘Line em up, then. Bout six? Give you time to get sorted out.’

  Rob looks towards the numbered rooms lining the car park and checks his watch.

  ‘I could eat a bloody horse,’ he says. ‘Six sounds awesome.’

  As they move away he puts his arm around Alice’s waist, and next to his solid presence she seems tiny, almost fluid in her frailness. Perhaps it wasn’t just the green dress that gave the impression of a river. They pass reception just as the others emerge, and stop to confer. Xandrea looks over towards me. I haven’t seen a scowl like that since
Christmas at Julie’s.

  Milly’s enthusiasm for dinner with Alice is thwarted by a steady day’s rain on arthritic joints; the thought of sitting up is too much. She scrawls a note for Alice, and curls up in blankets on the couch.

  I’m a bit late, and they’re there when I arrive, huddled at a table near the fire. Rob goes for drinks while Alice introduces me to the others. They all look a bit awkward, except for Xandrea, who has clearly decided to change tack. She has put on a garish velvet dress, and her manner is equally elaborate and badly judged.

  ‘Pete, Alice has told us so much about you. How lovely you’ve come to join our soiree,’ she exclaims through a smile worthy of Luna Park, reaching out a hand in a pointedly languid manner. ‘Especially after our little afternoon fiasco.’

  Alan squirms, and Polly starts to delicately nibble at her fingernails. Her teeth seem surprisingly small.

  ‘Please allow me to apologise on behalf of us all for the misunderstanding,’ Xandrea continues. ‘You see, Alice seemed to think it would be okay, so we hadn’t anticipated any problems. She hadn’t realised you’d left town – you can imagine how we felt, after such a long drive!’ Her laughter is loud and mannered.

  I have no wish to argue with this woman. ‘Forget it,’ I say.

  ‘But I mean, there are degrees of unwelcome I’ve obviously yet to plunder. When you arrived with the police! But as I said, it was just a misunderstanding, on every side.’ She laughs again, to demonstrate her jagged good nature.

  Alice seems to be shrinking. Ignoring Xandrea, I reach out and squeeze her hand.

  ‘How’d your exams go?’

  She brightens and everyone seizes the opportunity to leave dangerous ground; the conversation turns general. Rob, like Alice, is studying architecture, Alan is in engineering and Polly, the finger gnawer, social sciences. Of the four, Alan seems the most focused. Xandrea, obviously not a student, is sidelined, and drags her most steadfast ally, the disconsolate Polly, into a discussion on energy levels.

  Things remain pleasant while we order and eat. I avoid Xandrea’s conversation as much as possible, and she is too vain to risk another rebuff from me. The meals are large and basic pub fare. After a huge feed and several well-deserved pints, I’m feeling relaxed and even starting to enjoy myself. Beside me Alice has fired up and is lively and entertaining, teasing Rob mercilessly. He responds with good-natured indulgence, which provokes her to accuse him of having the temperament of a Saint Bernard.

  ‘Gina’d love you,’ I respond.

  ‘And Felix!’ pipes Alice. She’s quick enough to catch my look. ‘What?’

  ‘We lost Felix.’

  ‘What?’ Her gasp causes the others to stop talking and tune in. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There was a bit of confusion. He got left out.’

  The faces around the table are a mixture of discomfort and disbelief. ‘What do you mean “left out”?’ asks Alan.

  ‘I mean at night. With the mist.’

  ‘And?’ Xandrea is breathy, melodramatic.

  ‘It ate him.’

  Polly cringes, but Xandrea looks unconvinced. ‘Surely that would have been wild dogs? I’ve read that ferals are a problem in Nebulah.’

  ‘Feral dogs are not the problem. They’re not into decorating with their leftovers.’

  She looks at me for a beat, then pointedly shrugs. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘Is Milly okay?’ Alice breaks in.

  ‘Better now. She was pretty crushed. Blames herself, of course.’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d ever get her to leave.’

  ‘Felix was the last straw. She could hardly argue she was safe from slipping up when that happened.’

  ‘God,’ mouths Polly, ‘that’s awful.’

  Xandrea pulls a packet of cigarettes from the bag hanging on her chair and lights one up without asking if anyone minds. ‘But you’re safe as long as you’re indoors?’

  I don’t bother to answer. She blows smoke. ‘Isn’t that correct? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here with us, would you?’

  ‘You’re never truly safe,’ I tell her, my jaw already working. ‘It gets to you in other ways.’

  ‘But if we’d been in the house, we’d have been okay. Like Alice was.’ It’s not a question.

  ‘How would you have gotten in?’

  She shrugs. ‘We could easily have forced a window.’

  ‘If you’d gone ahead as you’d planned you’d all be dead by now. Or still dying.’

  Xandrea’s not enjoying having her authority ambushed. She taps her ash into the dregs of her vodka glass and says quietly, ‘I actually don’t think we would be. Based on my past experience, and what Alice has told me of the mist’s behaviour, it’s a potent spiritual force, but not necessarily a violent one.’

  ‘She’s wrong.’

  ‘She came back from Nebulah exhilarated, excited, not scared at all.’

  Alice looks at me, embarrassed. ‘It’s true. That was my experience of it, I didn’t feel it was malignant or evil at all. I really found it quite beautiful.’

  ‘That’s because it was manipulating you. That’s what it does.’

  Xandrea leapt. ‘So you agree that it’s capable of interaction?’

  ‘I agree that it’s cunning and manipulative. But let me assure you, it would tear out your throat before you got through your neighbourly introductions.’

  The others are listening keenly. For all her evident faults, Xandrea has a strong personality, an assurance in her own authority that lends her a certain credible charisma. It’s obvious she is used to holding people’s attention. She casually takes a final puff on her cigarette and drops the butt into her glass. ‘I have come across these kinds of disturbances before, you know,’ she says.

  ‘I doubt that.’

  ‘I’ve always found,’ she continues, ‘that it’s dependent on the atmosphere, the approach used – that determines the response of the entity. You, for example, are clearly hostile, whereas Alice, who is less … inclined to be aggressive, had a completely different reaction and experience of it.’

  ‘Are you saying that the people it’s killed just had the wrong attitude?’

  She frowns. ‘Of course I’m not. It’s simply a matter of experience, of knowing how to go about these things.’

  ‘You’re an idiot.’ I’ve spoken too loud and people at nearby tables look over. Xandrea smirks, pleased to have finally made a mark.

  ‘You see,’ she says, ‘if that’s the way you tend to respond to people – friends, I might add – it’s no wonder your experiences with something you don’t understand are so fraught.’

  ‘Fraught! It’s killed my friends, our pets.’

  ‘Why doesn’t it kill the wild dogs?’

  ‘What about the fucking wild dogs?’

  ‘They’re out in the mist, aren’t they? Why aren’t they hurt?’

  ‘Sometimes they are. But fundamentally they have the same sort of nature, they hunt and kill, the mist isn’t interested in them.’

  ‘So it doesn’t kill everything?’

  ‘It would kill you. In a heartbeat. And I’ll tell you straight that wouldn’t bother me one little bit. But go on your own – don’t drag along innocent people you’ve no hope of protecting.’

  ‘Excuse me, my friends are all adults, they make their own decisions.’

  Polly is now chewing on her ring finger in earnest. Beside her, Alan is folding his napkin into smaller and smaller shapes. Both Alice and Rob look deeply uncomfortable.

  ‘Decisions led by you, when you have no idea what you’re talking about. You pretend you know what you’re doing and that they’d be safe, when you have no idea at all what you’d be up against. In reality, you’re just a coward. You’d never go in there on your own.’

  ‘You don’t know me!’

  ‘I think you’re a crock of shit.’

  People at the tables around us are now watching with open amusement, enjoying the spectacle. Rob stands up. ‘Maybe we sho
uld call it a night. It’s been a rough day, for everyone.’

  ‘And you have a long drive home in the morning.’ I stand and turn to Alice. ‘I’ll come say goodbye tomorrow.’

  She nods and reaches up to give me a peck on the cheek, but her eyes are troubled and barely meet mine.

  That night I’m too angry to sleep, and when I finally do I dream badly again. I’m driving through thick clouds like smoke, and I turn to find Polly in the passenger seat. She’s chewing at her nails again, and as she does her teeth start to grow, until they’re long and thin and jagged, and she starts to bite at her fingers, gnawing them into bloodied stumps. I throw open the door, and land with a thud on the ground, which starts to sway. I’m in a boat, surrounded by a sea of mist, which breaks into figures that rise like waves and hurtle towards me, building up momentum as they approach the boat, slamming into its sides, threatening to capsize it. I’m thrown from side to side, hanging on for all I’m worth, because I know that if I’m spilled overboard into the mist I’m done for. And then I realise that it’s chanting to me, a gentle crooning like a lullaby. The words are dim and obscure at first, and then they become clearer, the bedtime rhyme: When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall …

  I wake with a moan, disoriented and motion-sick. I lie gasping in the bed, trying to get clean air into my sour mouth, when the door, ajar, slowly starts to swing open.

  I can’t move, trying to work out where I am, with panic curdling my guts, when Gina sticks her muzzle into the room, and peers towards me, looking worried. I must have called out and woken her. I call to her and she trots to my side and sits next to the bed, licking her lips. ‘Good girl,’ I croon, and realise with a start that I’m actually close to tears. And then I realise what day it is.

  June the twenty-first. Solstice.

  At the motel the next morning the wagon is loaded up in relative silence. Alan, Polly and Xandrea are clustered around it, ready to get going, while Alice and Rob finish paying for their room.

  ‘Good morning,’ Xandrea calls. ‘Come to escort us out of town?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You needn’t worry. We’d hardly risk going back to Nebulah after what you said. We’re not stupid. Besides,’ she adds casually, ‘there’s no point. You’d just bring your mates out and have us arrested.’