by David Moody
Tom walked Siobhan back to her office, then spent a listless hour walking from shop to shop, just killing time. He didn’t want anything – he didn’t need anything – but it was good to be out. Although still busy, Drayton was back to its old self today.
Before going back to the car, Tom took a detour to Overmill Park, the place he’d seen on the TV news. It looked reassuringly familiar today, a few bags of rubbish stacked by each of the bins the only indication that there had been hordes of people crammed into this space not so long ago. He walked a circuit of the park, following the footpath which ran around its perimeter. He saw barely anyone else: workers were back in their shops and offices after lunch, and school children were in class. The late summer sun was warm and pleasant, and he slowed his pace, enjoying the silence and doing his best to think about as little as possible.
‘Excuse me,’ a voice said from behind him. He froze, not just because the unexpected voice had taken him by surprise, but also because there was something unusual about its tone and accent. He knew before he turned around that it was an alien.
Tom found himself face-to-face with one of the visitors. Just him and her and no one else. Except that, rather than being face-to-face, the height difference meant he was face-to-chest, and the fact he was staring at her slight bosoms just added to his sudden awkwardness. He looked up, but when he made contact with those eyes – those huge, piercing, otherworldly blue eyes – he immediately looked down again, lost. His mouth was dry, his legs weak with sudden nervousness.
‘I’m sorry if I disturbed you,’ the alien said, sounding almost as uncomfortable as Tom clearly was. ‘I’m lost.’
‘You come halfway across the universe, but then get lost trying to find your way around Drayton?’ Tom joked without thinking, regretting his words the moment he’d spoken them. He cringed, fearing for a second that the alien might not understand sarcasm, concerned he might have unwittingly sparked an intergalactic diplomatic incident. Fortunately the corners of her wide, thin-lipped mouth began to curl upwards. Please let that be an alien smile, he hoped, not a declaration of war.
‘It would seem that way,’ she said, and her smile widened.
Tom cleared his throat and asked the question he should have begun with: ‘Where are you trying to get to?’
‘Lime Street,’ she replied. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting a friend there.’
Again, Tom clammed up. His brain was struggling to comprehend the extremes of this conversation. There he was, being asked to give walking directions to an obviously intelligent being who had travelled billions of miles through space. Either picking up on his unease or feeling equally awkward herself, the alien explained further.
‘I’m a geologist,’ she said. ‘I can tell you anything about the geology of most of the planets and stars between here and home, but I’m useless at finding my way around Drayton.’
Her humility was touching.
‘Well I know absolutely nothing about the geology of this planet, never mind any others, but I can tell you how to get from one side of this place to the other. You’re a long way off, by the way. Lime Street’s right on the other side of town. It’s at least a half-hour walk.’
‘I’m more than a trillion miles off the mark, actually,’ she said. ‘A half-hour’s walk is nothing.’
Further along the footpath, nearer to the main entrance of the park, was a street map. Tom gestured for the alien to follow him. Was it too presumptuous of him to lead the visitor or walk alongside her? Should he hold back and let her go first? His mind was rapidly filling with all kinds of nerve-induced rubbish. He needed to calm down and get a grip.
There were two kids on bikes cycling across the park, probably bunking off school, Tom thought. He noticed that they’d stopped and were both staring at the alien. The alien had noticed too.
‘You must get sick of it,’ Tom said.
‘The novelty has worn off, yes.’
‘Give it a few more weeks and they’ll have forgotten about you,’ he continued. ‘In the nicest possible way, of course. We’re funny creatures. We’ll point and shout at something that looks a little different to us, then just accept it as normal when the next new thing comes along.’
‘So you think people will stop staring as soon as another ship full of aliens arrives?’
Tom looked at her for a moment. Was she joking or being serious? It was impossible to tell.
‘What I mean is,’ he said, trying to dig himself out of a hole, ‘it’s just the shock of the new. Give it a little longer and everyone will get used to you. It’ll get easier.’
‘I hope so,’ she admitted.
They’d stopped in front of the map. Tom showed her the park where they were standing, then slid his finger across towards Lime Street.
‘You take a right here,’ he explained, pointing along a pathway, then a road. ‘Carry on until you reach the high street then turn right again. Follow the high street until you reach the junction with Fordham Street, then it’s left, then left again. Okay?’
She scanned the map once more and then nodded. ‘Right, high street, right, Fordham Street, then left and left again.’
‘You got it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Do you want me to take you. I could…’
‘No, it’s fine, thank you anyway.’
She smiled and started to walk away. Tom watched her go, feeling strangely deflated. Was that it? His first conversation with an alien, and all he’d found to talk about was how to get from Overmill Park to Lime Street?
‘So how are you finding things here?’ he shouted after her. She stopped and turned back to face him.
‘I’m not,’ she replied. ‘That’s why I had to ask you.’
‘It was a figure of speech,’ he explained.
Her mouth curled again. ‘I know. What did you mean? How do I like the town or the planet?’
‘Both. Either.’
She sighed (or at least that was what he thought it was) and thought for a few seconds before answering. ‘I don’t know how to give you an honest answer without offending you.’
‘Then offend me.’
‘Your planet is fine, and the people here have been very, very kind to us, but… but it’s not home, is it?’
Her use of the word ‘fine’ to describe everything Planet Earth had to offer stung Tom somewhat. Perhaps she hadn’t intended to sound so glib.
‘Of course it’s not your home. I just meant—’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she said, ‘I like very much what I’ve seen here. Parts of your world are beautiful, very different to where I come from.’
‘Yes, but for every beauty spot, there are a hundred places like Drayton.’
‘And it’s exactly the same where I’m from, but that’s not what I’m trying to say. It wouldn’t matter if every square metre of this place was unspoilt and beautiful, it still wouldn’t be enough. I’d rather be home. You’d feel the same way, I’m sure.’
‘How long will it take you to get back?’
‘A year and a half, probably longer.’
‘And how does that make you feel?’
Her surprisingly expressive face changed. The definite smile had disappeared. Her brow furrowed and her willowy shoulders dropped. ‘Desperate,’ she replied. Despite the unnatural twang to her voice, the inhuman lilt, he could clearly hear the sadness in her voice. They stood and studied each other for a few seconds longer, perhaps both trying to work out what the other was thinking, then the alien spoke again. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I have to go. My friend will be waiting. Thank you.’
Tom watched her leave.
‘What did she want, mate?’ one of the kids on bikes asked, finally plucking up courage to cycle over now the alien had gone.
‘She was lost, that’s all.’
CHAPTER 13
Tom’s plans for a quiet night in with Siobhan were thwarted by her decision to stay late at the office so she could try and get away at a decent time tomorrow.
He ate half the meal he’d cooked, then threw the rest away. Too full of food to run, he decided to walk off his dinner along the cliff-top path he’d followed so many times before.
It was still pleasantly warm, and although he passed a couple of dog walkers close to the village, there was no one else about. Good. That was how he liked it.
He passed the war memorial, then stopped a short distance further along, close to where he’d been when the alien ship had arrived, and where he, Rob and Siobhan had stood and watched it disappear again. In contrast to both those times, it was peaceful and quiet out here tonight. It was still hard to believe what he’d seen, even harder to imagine the odds against him being in the right place at the right time to witness such historic events. He craned his head back and retraced the route the alien ship had taken when it left the planet’s atmosphere. There was still a little light on the distant horizon, but overhead the sky was deep purple. The longer he stared, the more individual stars he was able to make out, peering down at him from millions of miles away.
It’s all about perspective, he decided.
The contrast was obvious, but it still made him think: he could see hundreds of stars now, and if he stayed out here longer, he’d be able to see thousands more. And yet, from any one of those individual stars, he would be invisible. That was because of his comparative lack of size, of course, but the same was also true of the planet itself. In relative terms, the Earth was just a pinprick.
He walked on.
Along with the rest of the world, he’d had a month to get used to playing host to visitors from another planet. Like everyone else, he’d also managed to get used to the fact that the human race was nowhere near as all-powerful as it had long believed itself to be. He wondered how the people at the top were coming to terms with their newly adjusted position in the scheme of things. They’d been the leaders before – the teachers. Now they’d been demoted to being kids in the class, taking instructions from elsewhere. He thought about the Prime Ministers and Presidents, all of whom had gone from being the most powerful people on the planet, to the most powerful people on a planet. The difference was subtle, but important.
The technological advances the aliens had promised to share would no doubt have a profound impact on all aspects of life on Earth. Was that something everyone would welcome? What about the mega-rich, overly influential bastards who looked down on everyone else from a position of often undeserved privilege? Would they be content to play second fiddle to the aliens? Would they be willing to see their hold on power and influence lessened? He’d heard talk on the TV earlier of trying to harness the quieter, safer, and more efficient energy source which powered the alien ships. All well and good, he thought, but the oil barons, politicians, billionaires and dictators might not be so keen to give up the fuel and money-based stranglehold on power they’d maintained over everyone else for so many years.
Tom continued to climb the hills away from the village, although he stopped several times and considered turning back. He felt unnaturally tired. It was stupid – the less he did, the more effort everything seemed to take. Was he vegetating? He thought maybe he should be running. Maybe he’d start again tomorrow, if he could be bothered.
His increasing apathy was beginning to genuinely concern him. Everyone else seemed fine – happier than usual, if anything; buoyed up by the unexpected optimism of the events of the last month. He was beginning to feel more and more like an outsider, almost as if he’d been left outside in the rain, looking in at the party through the window. Too tired to go any further, though not yet ready to go home, he stopped walking and sat down.
The crashing of the waves on the rocks below was the only sound. Everything was dark save for the twinkling lights of the village he’d left behind and, further in the distance, the faint orange air-glow over Drayton. He felt separated from it all. Detached. He hated feeling this way.
Is there something wrong with me?
Depression, someone had once told him, always boils down to a person having a lack of control. So how can I be depressed? I get up when I want to, go to bed when I’m ready, and do whatever I want in between. I’ve got more freedom than anyone else I know.
But was freedom the same as control? He wasn’t sure any more. It felt like something was missing. Tom had Siobhan and Rob and their small circle of friends, but beyond that he had very little. They all had their jobs to keep them busy and in regular contact with other people… what else did he have? Nothing. Not even any hobbies to speak of now he’d lost the impetus to run regularly. And yet the thought of getting a job or trying to find something else to do made him feel even worse. He wondered if the career he’d walked away from had given him a sense of purpose that he was now missing, or whether it had simply disguised the fact he’d never had one? Did he feel guilty because, as Rob had succinctly put it one drunken night, he was pissing on their parents’ grave? One thing was for sure, whatever the reason, his life was in real danger of becoming a vacuum.
Recognising the problem was one thing. Doing something about it, another thing entirely.
He lay back, the dry grass tickling his neck, and looked deeper into the heavens. He found himself thinking about his conversation with the alien earlier. If anyone had a right to be depressed, it was them. Talk about a lack of control… Christ, they clearly had it far worse than he did. Separated from everything they held dear by an impassable gulf, no way of getting back to their loved ones for the foreseeable future, if at all… He pictured the visitor’s face, the clear sadness in her eyes and the melancholy tone of her voice when she’d spoken about home. Bloody hell, in comparison to them, did he have anything to complain about?
And then it struck him that all of this might be the very reason why he found it impossible to connect with the aliens in the same way as everyone else. He didn’t understand them. More to the point, he didn’t understand how any of them could have allowed themselves to be willingly manipulated into leaving everything that mattered to them behind.
And then it struck him – maybe I’m the one who’s got it all wrong?
CHAPTER 14
Tom picked Siobhan up from work the following evening. After calling at her flat to sort out some washing and grab some clean clothes for the morning, they bought a takeaway and went back to the bungalow. Rob had gone back to university and was likely to be there all week. They had the place to themselves.
Tom was standing by the wide bay window in the living room, looking down over Thatcham. Although it was late in the season and late in the day, the streets were still teeming with activity, a stark contrast to how this place usually was in late-September, or so he’d been told. By this time of year, John Tipper had explained last Friday evening, the village should be half-empty. Not that John was complaining. As long as there was cash in his tills and people in his bar, he was happy.
Tom was looking at the nearest trees on the hillside, noticing how their branches were becoming more exposed as their leaves fell away, when Siobhan appeared behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She nestled her face against the back of his head and whispered in his ear.
‘You okay? Feels like ages since we’ve had time together like this.’
‘Too long,’ he said, turning around and looking deep into her face. The only illumination came from a small table lamp and the TV at the other end of the room. The soft light and constantly changing shadows highlighted the intense beauty of her blue-grey eyes. He kissed her, a first delicate touch of lips, then waited for her response. It was immediate, beginning with light, fluttering kisses which rapidly became more passionate. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, then playfully chewed on his bottom lip. He felt her hands underneath his shirt, then felt her fingernails drag down his back, the perfect balance of pain and pleasure. ‘I love you, you know,’ he said, pressing his face up against hers.
‘I know,’ she answered, and she kissed him again as she pushed him back across the room then pulled him down onto the sofa. She to
ok off his T-shirt then sat astride him. He looked up at her and wondered how the hell he’d managed to find someone as perfect as Siobhan. She was everything he wanted: beautiful, sexy, downright filthy when it suited her… he couldn’t imagine being without her now. And yet, he’d been thinking earlier today that he would never have met her if he hadn’t moved to Thatcham, and that he wouldn’t have moved to Thatcham if he hadn’t lost his parents. Fate can be a strange fucker at times, he thought. Do we always have to suffer before we can experience pleasure? And if I experience pleasure now, will I have to pay for it later?
To be honest, he’d have willingly taken any punishment as a consequence of what Siobhan was about to do to him. She undid his belt then popped open the button of his jeans and unzipped the fly, and he made a conscious decision to stop thinking and give his full and undivided attention to the perfect woman now sitting on top of him.
She leant forward and licked the length of his chest from just above his cock to just below his chin and then, almost lying flat on him now, she pressed her mouth close to his ear and whispered: ‘Do you want me?’
Her breath tickled his skin, driving him wild. She hadn’t needed to ask the question, she’d done it for effect and he’d already burst out of his open jeans with excitement. The hard-on she’d now wrapped her hand around was answer enough.
‘I want you,’ he said.
‘Then I’m all yours.’
He pushed her upright and took off her T-shirt, lifting it over her head. She leant back to undo her bra, then looked up at the TV and froze suddenly.
‘Shit. What time is it?’
‘Who cares?’
‘I do.’
‘Why, have you got somewhere else to be?’
She slid off him and marched across the room.
‘Christ, Tom, it’s almost eight. It’ll have started.’