by Steven Croft
‘Only if they change first,’ said the head waiter. ‘No guests are allowed downstairs.’
‘Do you want to watch?’ said Mary. Alice and Sam nodded. They looked behind them as the waiter led them away and Mary continued offering the tray of orange juice.
‘Do you think they...?’ said Alice
‘Come on, come on. I ‘ave not got all day,’ said the waiter.
He took them straight to the changing rooms and sorted out a small black dress, apron and cap for Alice and a dinner jacket and bow tie for Sam. They were changed in no time.
‘Now, follow me,’ he said. ‘Anton, Georges, you come too.’
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Alice.
‘ “Do whatever he tells you,” Mary said. “Do whatever he tells you.” It seems mad to me but zis is what ‘e zed. “Go downstairs to ze kitchens. You will find zix enormous stone jarz.”’
At that moment they burst through the double doors into the cauldron of activity that was the kitchen. Fifteen chefs busied themselves with the preparation of the main course, due to be served in twenty minutes. An under waiter ran in behind them: ‘The receiving line ‘as begun. Stations everyone.’
Alice thought the effect was like stirring an anthill with a stick. Everyone scurried round even faster carrying vast silver tureens of steaming food.
‘Can you see the jars?’ said Sam.
Alice and Claude, the head waiter, scanned the room. ‘Over there, by the old fireplace,’ called Alice.
Each jar was as tall as Sam. ‘We ‘ave to take zem to ze old castle well and fill zem,’ shouted Claude above the racket. ‘’Urry, zere iz not much time.’
They managed four on the first trip, with Alice holding the doors open. The stairs down to the old well from the kitchens were steep. The well was out of doors in a tiny round courtyard right in the centre of the old keep. Sam dragged the heavy lid from the mouth of the well. Anton and Georges went back for the other two jars. Alice released the bucket on its chain and sent it plummeting down into the water below.
Claude took off his jacket and turned the handle which pulled the chain and raised the bucket. As it reached the top, Sam poured the contents into the first jar and sent it straight back down again.
‘Wait,’ called Claude as the bucket reached the top for the second time. ‘’Old zis.’ Sam took the winch handle and Claude drew out a cup of the water and tasted it. ‘Sweet and fresh,’ he said, handing it to Alice. ‘At least we will not be poisoning ze guests.’
It took six great buckets of water to fill one of the jars to the brim. By the time Anton and Georges returned with the final jars, two were filled with water. The four men took it in turns to haul up the bucket. All were now out of breath and red in the face.
Claude asked Alice for a progress report on the wedding banquet. Alice sprinted back up the stairs, through the chaos of the castle kitchens and up another broad, carpeted staircase to the ballroom. The last of the guests were moving through the receiving line to be greeted by the bride and groom and their immediate families. Any moment now, the bride and groom would enter the hall. The best man looked increasingly desperate and the bride’s father was full of fury and pacing up and down, mobile phone pressed to his ear.
Mary caught her eye and came over. ‘It’s almost time,’ she said. ‘Is Claude ready?’
‘Almost,’ said Alice.
‘As soon as the final jar is full, not a moment before, tell Claude to draw off the water into a decanter and, without tasting it, take it to best man.’ Mary handed Alice a silver jug. Alice took it in both hands and sprinted back down three flights of stairs, dodging waiters carrying hot tureens of food on the way up.
The last bucket was filling the final great jar as she ran into the small courtyard. Sam, Anton and Georges had collapsed on the floor with their backs to the wall.
‘As soon as the last jar is full to the brim, draw some of it out into this decanter,’ said Alice. ‘Without tasting it, take it to the best man.’
Claude raised his eyes to heaven. He was too out of breath to speak but took the decanter from Alice, held it by the handle and pressed it down slowly into the first jar they had filled, carefully so that nothing was spilled.
‘Let’s go,’ he said to Sam and Alice. ‘You two stay ‘ere. Don’t let anyone in.’ Anton and Georges simply moaned in response and remained slumped on the floor.
As they passed through the kitchen, Claude found a tray of glasses for Sam and gave Alice the decanter. He led them, then, in stately procession up the two flights of stairs (taking care to avoid the waiters on the way down with empty platters), through into the main hall and to the table on the dais at the far end. Alice noticed that Mary slipped in behind them as they passed the door of the hall. The conversation stopped as they moved down behind the rows of guests. People nudged and pointed towards Alice and the decanter she carried. As they came to the top table, the whole room fell silent, set down their knives and forks, fingered their empty glasses and looked towards the best man.
Claude coughed discreetly, rather from habit Sam thought because everyone was already staring at him. ‘M’sieur. Ze wine for your approval.’
The best man smiled with relief. ‘Someone found an off-licence. Well done, Claude,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s see what it’s like. Not expecting anything much but any port in a storm.’
Claude coughed discreetly again and took a glass from the tray Sam was carrying. Alice could see that his hand was trembling and there were beads of perspiration on his forehead. She offered him the decanter. He took it by the handle and poured.
Out came the richest, deepest, red wine. Its bouquet filled the room. All of the guests inhaled at the same time. The best man’s eyes lit up. He took the glass from Claude and Alice took the decanter back. The best man raised the glass to his lips, sipped, swilled it round his tonsils, arched his eyebrows, swallowed, sipped again and beamed from ear to ear.
He stood and addressed the guests. ‘Ladies and gentlemen: simply the best I have ever tasted. Let the festivities begin!’
There was a great roar from the hall, a round of applause and the feasting and conversation began again. The best man turned back again to Claude.
‘How much of this stuff do we have?’
Claude was stretched out on the floor at his feet in a dead faint. Alice replied on his behalf: ‘About 180 gallons, I think.’
‘This will be some wedding!’ said the best man.
Sam was bending over Claude, slapping his cheeks to bring him round. He came to and instantly sent every waiter down to the water jars bearing jugs and decanters, even vases, so that the wine began to flow. Anton and Georges did not appear and word came back that they too had tasted the wine (rather a lot of it) and were in no fit state to carry it through the hallway.
Claude and Mary walked out again to the vestibule with Sam and Alice. ‘Dear madame, ‘ow can I thank you?’
‘Not at all, Claude,’ said Mary, bowing slightly. ‘Excuse me, I must say goodbye to my guests.’
Mary walked them to the door where Bal, Caspar and Mel were waiting with the limousine. ‘Remember what you have seen,’ she said. ‘Store it in your heart. Think of it as a sign of something greater.’
She kissed Alice on the forehead and shook Sam warmly by the hand. Their three escorts bowed very low to Mary and helped them back into the car. The journey home seemed to take no time at all. Neither Sam nor Alice spoke, turning over in their minds all that they had seen.
Megs and Andrew were not yet back from Luton. Alice and Sam said goodnight to Mel and ran through into the front room. There in the open door of the great castle, on a floor littered with confetti, stood six stone jars filled to the very brim with the richest and best wine there has ever been.
21 December
The next morning, Alice slept
until half past eight. She skipped downstairs in her pyjamas, her mind full of the ride in the limousine and the banquet. There were voices coming from the kitchen but Alice turned right into the front room and scanned the calendar.
There wasn’t that much space now: just room for three more ordinary doors and the one in the centre which had been visible from the beginning. She gasped: the new door had appeared already in the bottom left-hand section. It was completely black, surrounded by a thin wooden frame. There was no sign of an opening.
‘Sam!’ she called, running into the kitchen. Megs and Sam sat at the kitchen table with mugs of tea. Both of them looked very serious. Megs had been crying. They were holding hands.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Alice. ‘How come you’re not at work?’
‘It’s Grandad, love,’ said Megs, softly. ‘He was taken ill again in the night. Grandma rang. This time it could be very serious.’
Sam squeezed her hand.
‘We need to go and see him,’ said Sam. ‘All of us. Gran has asked us to go.’
‘I want to see him,’ said Alice.
‘Run and get dressed then,’ said Megs. ‘I need to finish getting ready as well. We’ll leave in about half an hour. We’ve decided to take a taxi and train. Can you sort that, Sam?’
Sam’s two-seater was too small and not good in any case on long distances. Andrew had gone away for the day.
Alice sprinted upstairs and pulled on some nice clothes. She was back in the front room in five minutes, with Sam. He pulled out his phone to call a cab.
‘There’s a message – a code.’
‘I was coming in to tell you,’ said Alice. ‘The new door is there.’
Sam opened the message. ‘Two, five, colon, seven. Then it says “For immediate use. Taxi”.’
‘Whoever sends the messages must know what’s happening,’ said Alice. ‘It’s always been OK before. Shall I punch in the code?’
Sam thought for a moment. Just for a second, he imagined he was back on the forest trail with Abraham and Sarah, trying to work out which way to go. ‘Punch in the code,’ he said. ‘We’ll take a chance.’
Alice pressed the buttons: ‘Two, five, colon, seven.’ One day soon she must ask someone what they meant. There was a soft click and the new door began to slide open.
Megs came down the stairs calling: ‘Sam – did you call the cab? The normal number is by the phone.’ Alice thought she was in shock.
The doorbell rang. They got up to go but heard Megs answer it. A very familiar voice said: ‘Taxi, madam? To the hospital?’
‘That’s right,’ said Megs. ‘But just to the station. You were very quick.’
‘Just waiting for your call, madam,’ said Caspar, raising his chauffeur’s cap. He was wearing the complete uniform and dark glasses.
Bal and Mel were outside, dressed the same way as Caspar and standing on either side of a black unmarked Range Rover with dark tinted windows. Megs looked up and down the street for the taxi.
‘There must be some mistake,’ she said. ‘We only ordered a cab to the station. This will cost a fortune.’
She looked at Sam accusingly, as if it was his fault. Bal opened the passenger door: ‘Complements of Mr Gabriel, madam. An upgraded service. No charge.’
‘The man from the dry-cleaner’s?’ said Megs in a bit of a daze. ‘Strange – but very kind of him. How did he know?’
Caspar gave Alice a poke in the ribs. ‘I saw him yesterday,’ she said, ‘at the charity shop.’
‘All aboard, madam,’ said Mel, soothingly. Megs did as she was told and climbed into the back, followed by Alice and Sam. Bal motioned to them both to keep quiet.
‘We are going to the hospital, aren’t we?’ Sam enquired just in case there were any strange journeys involved. Bal nodded and tapped his watch impatiently.
There was a flask of coffee in the back seat with cups, milk and sugar and a selection of pastries. Alice decided that this was a very good thing as she’d not had breakfast. The car pulled away from the kerb quietly and out onto the main road. It was a strange thing that whenever she was driven by her three new friends, there was very little traffic.
‘So when did you find out about Grandad?’ asked Alice. ‘How was he last night?’
‘Not great,’ said Megs. ‘We stayed as late as we could, then dropped Grandma off at home. You’d gone to bed when we got back. Sam and I stayed up late. Grandma phoned at eight o’clock this morning. She’d rung the hospital and apparently he’s had another bad night. Chest infection on top of everything else.’
Megs looked tearful again. Sam passed his sister some coffee and helped himself to a pastry. He looked out of the window for a moment and noticed that they must be going at least a hundred miles an hour.
‘Is Mum meeting us at the hospital?’ he asked.
‘She’ll be on the intensive care ward now,’ said Megs. ‘Mobile phones aren’t allowed so we can’t ring ahead. At least there are no hold-ups.’ Megs blew her nose. Alice and Sam exchanged looks.
The car pulled up at the main entrance to the hospital. Caspar and Mel leapt out and opened the doors for Megs and Sam. Bal stayed at the wheel and drove off to park the car. The others came into the hospital with them, one on either side and very much on the alert.
‘There’s really no need,’ said Megs, coming round a bit now.
‘All part of the service, madam,’ said Caspar. ‘Mr Gabriel would insist.’
Sam followed the signs for Intensive Care and found it first time thanks to a couple of coughs from Bal when he missed vital turnings. The escorts stayed outside the door of the ward. Alice, Sam and Megs were invited in, though only briefly.
Alice ran and hugged her grandma who looked very thin and frail next to all the machinery. Both of them burst into tears. She could hardly recognise her grandfather who was stretched out on the bed with pipes and tubes running in and out of him, fixed to great machines. Sam embraced his mum and squeezed his dad’s hand. He, too, seemed very choked up. A nurse came over and asked them to step into the relatives’ waiting room. The doctor would be with them in a minute or two.
The waiting room was not very big to start with but with the four of them and the three solemn escorts in dark glasses against the back wall it felt very crowded indeed. Gran was oblivious to everything and sat on the sofa clutching Alice’s hand.
The doctor came in after a couple of minutes, shook hands with the family and acknowledged their three companions.
‘I am afraid Mr Brown has been very sick,’ he began. ‘Fortunately, his condition has now stabilised and the antibiotics are beginning to work. We think he is out of danger.’
Megs, Sam, Alice and Grandma all heaved a huge sigh of relief together. The doctor went on, ‘We will move him out of Intensive Care this afternoon if all goes well. Then, in two days’ time, he should be well enough to leave hospital. The only thing is, he must have people around who can look after him. With respect, Mrs Brown, I don’t think that you will have the strength by yourself.’
‘Can Grandad come to our house?’ suggested Alice, instantly.
‘Would it matter if we’re so far from the hospital?’ asked Megs.
‘Not at all,’ said the doctor. ‘We can give you a number to call for the hospital in your local area. That should be very satisfactory. It is much better to be with those you love at Christmas time, is it not?’
Gran nodded. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.’
‘You and Grandad can have my room,’ said Alice. ‘I’ll go in with Mum.’
‘That’s settled then,’ said the doctor and stood up to leave.
It took a few moments to make the arrangements for the rest of the day. Megs would remain at the hospital with Grandma, then stay overnight with her. Sam and Alice would travel home with their
escorts. Either Megs or Sam would hire a car on Christmas Eve to collect Grandma and Grandad from the hospital and bring them home for Christmas.
***********
Half an hour later, Alice and Sam were walking down the main corridor of the hospital feeling somewhat conspicuous with Mel on one side and Caspar on the other. Bal had slipped away, they supposed to collect the car. Alice couldn’t work out why they were being so protective. ‘It’s not as if we’re in any danger,’ she thought.
Just at that moment, she caught sight of a curious figure dressed completely in dark grey slowly coming up the corridor towards them. He wore a hooded cloak and carried a great scythe over his shoulder. Alice saw that he kept to the edge of the corridor and that no one else could see him. He turned left into one of the wards, leaving a cold, slimy trail behind him like a slug.
‘What was that?’ said Sam.
‘There’s another,’ said Alice.
An identical figure had turned into the corridor from the main entrance and was moving away from them to another part of the hospital. He was followed by a third, then a fourth, coming straight for them. Their tracks glistened for a few moments, then faded away.
‘The grim reapers some call them,’ said Mel. ‘They are no friends of ours or of any human. They are the messengers of death. They come to spoil, to rend, to draw life’s sweetness to a bitter end.’
Alice and Sam shuddered and drew back into the protection of their escorts as the reaper approached them. There was no face inside the grey hood. The cloak covered its feet. Black gloves gripped the scythe which was a dull metallic grey but razor sharp. A putrid stench of decay surrounded the creature like a cloud.
When it drew close to them, the reaper stopped, sensing rather than seeing something wrong. Its voice was cracked and low, coming from deep within the shroud it wore, echoing around the corridor:
‘You have no place here. This is our domain.’
‘For a time only,’ said Caspar. ‘You will not prevail.’