‘Still worrying about him?’ asked Leo, quietly.
Ralf nodded. ‘I know it must seem mad, Leo. But that’s my dog. I know it’s him and I know she’s cruel to him too. When I walked past her place yesterday I could hear him whining. She keeps him locked up because she can’t control him.’
Leo pulled a face.
Ralf cut the engine as they came to the harbour wall. Leo leapt nimbly on to the quay and Ralf threw him a line, which he tied up perfectly. Ralf was impressed. He’d only showed him how to do it once and already Leo looked like he’d been doing it his whole life. Leo saw him watching and grinned.
‘Been helping the Arbuckles,’ he said. ‘Mending nets with Old Bill too.’
Ralf was embarrassed. ‘Leo, why didn’t you say? I can manage here on my own if they need you.’
Leo shook his head. ‘They don’t need me,’ he said. ‘But Old Bill’s been low this week. The sinking of the Royal Oak hit him hard. He’s been muttering about ‘blasted submarines’ and the ‘Dirty Hun’ breaking all the rules. You can understand it. He’s a sailor and he can’t stop thinking about all those drowned boys.’
Eight hundred and thirty-three had gone down at Scapa Flow. A hundred and twenty of them boys, the papers said. The thought made Ralf shudder.
‘So what with Michael gone and everything, I’ve been spending some time with him.’
Ralf battened the hatches and jumped ashore. ‘How d’you do that?’
‘What?’
‘That thing where you seem to know how people are thinking or feeling.’
‘That’s the darkest of Black Magic! My powers are Great!’ Leo laughed at Ralf’s expression. ‘Come on Ralf, I just had a feeling, ok? It’s not rocket science!’
‘Yeah,’ Ralf smiled. ‘We’ve got Seth for that.’ He looked back at the harbour and gave a nod of satisfaction at the sight of his small white buoys dotting the water. They started walking up towards the village.
‘I’m worried about Seth, you know,’ said Leo. ‘Alfie was right.’
‘About him being a nut job?’
‘No seriously, Wolf, I think we should keep an eye on him. Something’s wrong. Something he’s not telling us. A couple of times lately I’ve seen him when he thinks no one’s looking. He’s had the strangest expression on his face...’
Ralf frowned. Seth had been searching for Falls with the rest of them but he’d never said anything to contradict his earlier conviction that they were all stuck in 1939. Ralf hesitated to mention it, though, Leo was so optimistic about them getting home. ‘He’s probably worrying about that thing with King,’ he said, eventually.
‘Yeah, but what if we never find the right Fall? What if we really can’t get back?’
‘We will,’ said Ralf, with more conviction than he felt. ‘Anyway, it’s not so bad here is it? Would it be a disaster if you couldn’t go back for a while?’
Leo gave him a wry smile. ‘You don’t seem in too much of a hurry.’
Ralf smiled back. He couldn’t help it. Leo was right. This life wasn’t half bad. Despite the chapped hands and sore back, the sense of urgency he’d had when they first arrived had disappeared completely. Even with his worries about Cabal and his bust up with King, Ralf was happier than he’d been since his parents died.
A combination of the weather and the war caused a sharp decline in the amount of entertaining done by the Kingston-Hawkes, so Hilda was home much more and Ralf could, for the first time in his life, enjoy having a sister. Each evening, after chores around the cottage, bringing in wood for the stove and polishing his boots for the next day he did his school homework. Then it was time for a wash in the metal tub by the fire, as Hilda cooked another mouth-watering meal. After supper they talked, listened to the wireless together or read by lamplight until it was time to go to bed. Each night, before he climbed the narrow stairs, Ralf coloured as Hilda hugged him and ruffled his shorn hair.
Despite his idyllic days, though, his nights were still haunted by the most appalling dreams. As was becoming increasingly usual he woke one chill Friday morning in the middle of October, with the Black Door fresh in his head. The nightmare consumed him as the ticking clocks had done at Janus Gate and he’d washed and dressed for school before its shadow began to lift. When Leo’s knock came, a little after eight, he shoved it to the back of his mind and they crunched up the lane, muffled in scarves, with their school caps pulled low over their ears.
The village was different that morning. It was subdued, quieter, and many of the shopkeepers and tradesmen had anxious looks upon their faces. Gordon Kemp, Ben Cheeseman and Frank Duke were huddled, collars up, in the pub doorway. Although they were speaking in hushed tones the unnatural stillness of the Village allowed their voices to carry.
‘But they fought like tigers them Poles!’ said Ben Cheeseman, with admiration in his voice.
Frank Duke shook his head. ‘Aye, but they didn’t stand a chance! Cavalry they had! Just horses against armoured tanks. Flesh against cold hard steel.’ He spat meditatively on to the cobbles. ‘And don’t talk to me about the Nastis working with them Bolshie traitors! Scum, the lot o’ them!’
‘Looks like they’re all set to be mates and divvy up Eastern Europe between ‘em,’ said Kemp. ‘Mind you, our lads will show them Bully Boys a thing or two once it all kicks off proper like!’
‘What’s he talking about Ralf?’
‘Well the Russians were supposed to be sort of on our side, or at the very least we had an agreement that they wouldn’t get involved if Germany started invading places. But then they did this secret deal with the Nazis and Poland and most of Eastern Europe got shared out between them.’
‘That’s terrible!’ said Leo as they walked up the High Street. ‘I didn’t know. Course, I know we win in the end,’ he added with a sheepish smile, ‘But, I can’t remember what happens next, can you?’ he asked.
Ralf could. After all those war biographies Gloria had made him read to her, the information had rattled round in his head for weeks. At the time he’d viewed it as wasted time but now it felt more like she’d been preparing him, as if she was making him study hard before a big exam.
‘Here?’ he said as they arrived at the station. ‘Not much for a while, I think. They call it ‘The Phony War’. A few minor skirmishes in Europe and Norway but nothing big until Churchill takes over and he’s not going to be Prime Minister until May next year.’
‘Churchill? Prime Minister?’ The stationmaster held his fat side as he chuckled. ‘You’se havin’ a laugh, Osborne!’
Ralf started, blushing. ‘It might happen!’
The old man wiped his eyes. ‘And us’ll be flying to the moon one day an’ all!’
He clipped their tickets and they boarded the school train. ‘Don’t worry about it, Leo,’ Ralf said, seeing his friend’s worried face. ‘He doesn’t have a clue.’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just – do you realise, he’s the first person we’ve spoken to this morning?’
‘So?’
‘Three weeks ago that High Street was busy on our way to school,’ he said. ‘Don’t you remember how we kept getting in everyone’s way?’
‘It is quiet,’ Ralf admitted as they got on the train.
‘Yes, I thought the atmosphere was bad the day Poland surrendered but it’s actually been getting worse and worse.’
‘Who knows?’ said Ralf with a weary smile. ‘Maybe it’s the weather.’
Seth and Valen were waiting, in the third carriage and they sat down with them. Leo barely said hello, though, his brow wrinkled in thought. ‘There’s something wrong. It’s not right so many people being still indoors at this time just because it’s a bit cold.’
‘A bit cold?’ Seth cried. ‘It’s warmer than this in Schlesvig – in January!’
‘The kids are out,’ said Valen and she was right. The usual crowds of children had boarded the train at each stop and ten minutes into their journey their compartment was full.
�
�Yeah, but most of them don’t live in King’s Hadow itself. They live out on the farms or in other villages down the line. And it’s not just that people aren’t coming out as much,’ said Leo thoughtfully. ‘When you do see the villagers they’re quieter. They don’t stop to chat.’
‘Stationmaster was fine.’
‘He lives right next to the station. Not in the village. It’s the villagers I’m talking about.’
Seth agreed. ‘I saw the Kemps this morning. They gave me quick nod and then hurried back into the shop.’
‘Gotta be them freaky things going down round the village,’ said Alfie ominously. His eyes widened as he saw Ralf’s questioning expression. ‘You must’ve heard! Two gravestones overturned and one of the vaults under the church opens all on its own. Our – I mean – the Sedleys’ stream changed course overnight for no apparent reason and Hoad’s Farm Pond has dried up completely. And, and…and this is really dark, right? I get in to school Monday and the assembly hall’s wall-to-wall silage. Seriously, it looked like Alien Apocalypse in there, man, and it smelled worse! But the weird thing is, there weren’t no sign of a break in at all. Nuffin’, zip, nada! Honest! Sergeant Minter’s baffled. I’ve had a butchers and a dig around and trust me, I know. Whoever or whatever did it left no trace. No trace at all!’
‘It’s all people are talking about when they come in to the shop,’ said Valen.
‘It’s not just that,’ said Leo. ‘There’s something… That actor …Charles Hart –’
‘He’s really nice, apparently. The Hatchers know him quite well. Mrs Hatcher’s in a proper state,’ said Valen. ‘Really snappy.’
Leo’s stared blankly into the middle distance and he frowned. ‘Something…’
‘I know what it is,’ said a soft voice above their heads. Kat Noakes peered down at them over the back of the seat, but Ralf hardly recognised her. She was wearing a patched Convent School uniform and her red hair had been wrestled into plaits that stood out at angles underneath a navy school hat. Ralf’s surprise must have shown because she shrugged. ‘Gran likes me to show my face once in a while. It gets the Education Board off her back,’ she smiled. ‘There’s a feeling in the village isn’t there? It’s Nos Darras.’
‘Nos Darras?’ said Seth sharply. ‘What’s that?’
Ralf knew the answer a split second before Kat said it.
‘The Black Door!’
Kat looked surprised. ‘You know?’
‘The Black Door!’ Ralf gasped as images from his nightmares flooded back. ‘I’ve been dreaming about it! What is it?’
She disappeared behind the seat and reappeared a moment later to sit next to Valen. One look at Ralf’s face must have told her she had an interested listener because she launched immediately into her tale.
‘Gran says that only the old folk remember. The family travel but they always come back here at the same time each year, and Gran’s mother told her the story when she was a child. Anyway, the legend is that centuries ago there was a monster.’
‘Here we go,’ said Seth but the others shushed him.
‘The people couldn’t kill it, but eventually they used magic to capture it. They imprisoned it underground – buried it alive right under where the village is now – sealed behind a huge black door.’ Kat’s voice lowered to a whisper. ‘They say that one day, at a time of War and Fear, the walls of the prison will be broken and the monster will return to seek its revenge.’ Kat’s green eyes glinted. ‘Gran says that, when it comes, the village will be swallowed by darkness and the streets will run with blood. There’ll be so much of it flowing into the harbour that the sea will turn red…’
Seth laughed loudly making everyone jump. ‘Cheerful old soul, your Gran!’ he gurgled, wiping his eyes. ‘She’s not worried that after all this time the monster will be nothing more than dust, I suppose?’
Ralf ignored him. ‘A monster buried somewhere below King’s Hadow. What kind of monster? Did it have a name?’ he asked Kat
Kat shook her head. ‘I only know what they call it around here. King’s Hadow is named after it.’
‘I don’t get you.’
‘King’s Hadow. King Shadow. Over time the break between the words got put in the wrong place. They called it the Shadow King.’
‘It’s war time now, isn’t it?’ said Valen.
Kat nodded. ‘And the dreams mean it’s on its way.’
Seth snorted and shook his head. ‘Dreaming of monsters?’ he said. ‘A sign that it will come back? Give me a break. It’s more likely because you’ve been eating cheese before bedtime!’
Seth’s voice seemed, to Ralf, to be echoing a long way away. He felt as though his heart was thumping right between his ears and it was only when the train stopped and doors started to slam that he was shocked into breathing again.
For the next week the Black Door haunted Ralf’s days as well as his nights. He couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it, or the tale that Kat had told them about its origins. ‘Nos Darras’. He repeated the words in his head over and over, and had taken to doodling them on slips of paper when he was supposed to be doing his prep and muttering them under his breath as he reeled in pots alive with creeping lobster. The problem was that the words were not new to him. He felt as if he’d heard them before, a long time ago, and he just needed something to happen or someone to say something that would unlock the memory.
On Friday evening that is exactly what happened. Walking three abreast down the High Street he, Seth and Alfie were comparing notes on the Falls they had been checking when something caught Ralf’s eye.
He stopped so abruptly that Alfie nearly walked into the back of him. Above the shop front was Valen’s bedroom window. The square pane of glass in the centre had had an extra strip of tape added.
‘They’ve found something!’ he gasped. They ran back the way they had come.
When they reached the Green, Valen practically flew to meet them.
‘I think there’s another Fall!’ she said.
‘A new one?’ Seth asked.
‘No, I think it must have been there a while!’ said Valen excitedly. ‘Shut up while I tell you! I heard Isaac Kitchen, The Blacksmith, talking to Mr Hatcher this morning about this weird noise he keeps hearing coming from a big old oak just outside his forge. He was trying to laugh about it and called it his ‘Wailing Tree’ but you could tell he was scared.’
‘Everyone is superstitious here,’ said Seth.
‘I didn’t really click at first until he said he hadn’t dared go near it. Then I started thinking, okay, what if there’s a Fall there and he’s been hearing what’s on the other side of it?’
‘But wailing?’ said Alfie.
‘I know,’ said Valen. ‘But Isaac’s hearing’s not so good. It’s all the hammering. Maybe it sounds like wailing to him but it’s actually traffic on a road or a plane or something? He’s practically deaf, for goodness sake!’
It was as good a theory as any and the more they talked about it as they trooped down the alley at the back of the High Street shops, the better it seemed.
‘The sound might even be amplified or distorted by the Fall,’ Seth agreed reluctantly.
Valen grinned. ‘This could be it! This really could be it!’
The forge was set back from the lane. A dirt yard in front held all manner of farm machinery that Ralf could neither recognise nor name. There were horseshoes nailed above open barn doors and cartwheels leaning next to them. Smoke drifted from a redbrick chimney and from inside the smithy came the regular clang of hammer on metal.
‘Let’s slip round the back,’ said Alfie. He scuttled across the yard to stand next to the doors, peered inside and then, safe in the knowledge that no one within was watching, darted in front of the open doorway, along the building to the corner.
Valen followed suit, completing her journey with a commando-style roll that brought her to stand next to Alfie. She grinned and beckoned.
Seth went next. Reluctant to be outdone, he Sh
ifted to the door, peeped inside, then Shifted to stand next to Valen and Alfie.
Bemused by these James Bond style antics Ralf and Leo looked at each other for a moment and, reassured by the steady clang of the hammer inside the workshop, strolled over to join them.
The oak was about a hundred yards from the main building, standing proud behind a wooden shed. They edged towards it. There, in plain view, near its base was a small, triangular shaped patch of haze.
Dumbfounded, they just stared at it for a second. After all this time, was it really going to be so easy to get back? Ralf’s heart fluttered uncomfortably in his chest and he had a horrid guilty moment when a voice inside his head pleaded ‘not yet’.
‘It’s a small opening so it might be a bit of a squeeze.’ He rummaged in his satchel and took out a coil of thin rope. ‘Been carrying this around for a week now,’ he said. ‘I’ll just tie one end round my waist and you lot hold on to the other. I’ll have a quick look but you’ll be able to stop me being sucked in and you can haul me out if it’s not the right Fall.’
As they threw their stuff into a haphazard pile on the other side of the massive trunk there was a rush of warm air. A breeze emanated from the hole and on it drifted the wailing noise that Isaac had talked about.
‘Does that sound like –’
‘A siren!’ squealed Alfie. ‘That’s a cop car, serious!’
Valen hopped from foot to foot. ‘Sure you don’t want me to go, Ralf?’ she asked excitedly. ‘In case of trouble?’
Ralf shook his head. He poked his head into the hole and tried to first edge, then crawl in afterwards.
‘It’s that murky in-between stuff we saw before. It’ll be a squeeze but I can slide along on my stomach,’ said Ralf. He didn’t relish the thought, but it was the only way. ‘So, I’ll have a quick look,’ he said. ‘See if I can figure out the date. It’s best to be really sure before we all go through together. I’ll tug twice to come back, okay?’
The Turnarounders and the Arbuckle Rescue Page 19