Slowly he dragged to a halt, feeling his heart thudding with horror and despair. They stared and did not move. He felt an odd beat of panic begin to thud in his heart.
He turned and walked quickly back to the gate. He did not look back. He hardly saw anything in his emotional state. He saw only the open front door ahead of him as he leapt the steps, eager to be inside the cool, familiar place.
Jennifer stood in the hall.
‘Did you?’ she asked.
I couldn’t, he said. ‘There are so many of them. It just scales you back again. If they did something, it would be different, but they don’t. They just stand there, staring.
They don’t do anything. If they called out something— anything—’
‘I wish you hadn’t gone!’ she said, quickly. ‘I was frightened something would happen to you.’
‘Well, it didn’t,’ he said, and took her arm, turning her towards the study. ‘It was like a nightmare. I’ve never seen anything in that way before. I distorted them. I hes can’t be like that.’
Ellen had put the breakfast on a tray with the drinking collection. Jennifer poured out. Richard stared at the window as he began to cat toast.
‘It can’t go on like this.’ he said, swallowing.
‘What can we do, then?’
‘I don’t know. Get the police to move them on.’
‘Ring them up, then. Now.’
He bit more toast.
‘Why don’t you?’
‘I forgot the bill,’ he said.
‘Again? Oh dear, Richard. You are hopeless! ’
‘Well, at the office Judy does it all. Here I just forget. It didn’t work last night. I remembered then.’
‘Last night?’ she said. ‘Who did you want to ring then?’
“It couldn’t have been last night,’ he said, frowning. ‘Yet it must have been or I’d have paid the bill in the village yesterday. Yes. it must have been last night. Or p’raps I dreamt it. Hang on.’
He went into the hall, tried and came back again.
‘It must have been last night,’ he said. ‘Don’t know who or what, though. I feel as if I’ve had my head cut off and I’m just running around like a chicken, automationed.’
She stared at him bright-eyed.
‘We’re cut off all night! ’ she said very quietly. ‘I’ve just been upstairs. You can see out all round. They’re all round, these people. In the fields. Dotted about. Staring. My God! what’s happening? Is it real?’
It s real,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried every way of kicking out of it in case it’s a dream, but it isn’t. You never get this sort of gritty, dry heat fear in a dream. It’s always a kind of panic, and everything moves. You get chased, you are flying, you begin to fall, but you’re always moving. Now we’re not. Nothing’s moving. Everything’s just still.
She walked to the window to look out, then funked
and turned back to him again.
‘Why?’ she shouted angrily. ‘Can you think why?
“If I could think why I wouldn’t feel so queer about it! ’ he shouted back.
‘Why didn’t you ask? Why didn’t you go up and
ask?’
‘I hadn’t got the guts,’ he said, and bit more toast. ‘When I saw them there my blood ran out of my heels. I came back. There wasn’t anything else to do! ’
Ellen came in again, still wiping her dry hands.
‘It’s awful out there in the kitchen,’ she said. ‘I keep thinking they’re peeping through the slats. Creeping about.’
‘They’re hardly moving,’ Richard said. ’They’re mutes. Like people waiting to measure you up for your funeral.’ ‘Horrid! ’ said Jennifer, and shivered.
‘If there’s one thing that shakes me, it’s somebody joking about funerals,’ said Ellen very rapidly. ‘Tempting fate, it is. I had an Uncle did that. Auntie Liz warned him it’d do him in the end and he choked himself laughing- That’s the kind of thing that happens when ’
‘I wonder if it’s anything in the morning papers?’ Richard said suddenly. ‘Where are they?’
‘Out on the table like always,’ said Ellen.
Richard went out and got the two daily papers. These were chosen for solid news, advertisements for estates and crosswords, which automatically limited the choice to two and cut out the daily drama.
,Death disaster, alarm, despondency, fear, flap and futility, Richard said, riffling through one. ‘otherwise nothing out of the way.’ “
‘In any case, why should there be anything about us in the paper today?’ Jennifer argued. ‘We haven’t done anything.’
‘Haven’t we?’ Richard said.
‘What do you mean, haven’t we?’
‘Well, you know we can’t remember whether we have or not,’ he said.
‘You’re being deliberately macabre and stupid! ’ Jennifer said.
Ellen watched the sudden flare of temper between them with no more than her usual hopeful expectation.
But all these people are out there,’ Richard said.
‘Why doesn’t Porch do something?’ demanded Jennifer. ‘He’s supposed to be the policeman.’
‘Porch’ll walk the other way, don’t you worry!’ Ellen said. ‘Look at the other night. Playing darts. Fred was, down in the pub, peaceful and doing no harm when in comes Bill Dyer and smacks him on the nose. My Fred he goes out and next thing there they are fighting and rolling about all over the road and Fred in those new flannels he paid four pound for at the Co-op too. Then along comes Porch on his bicycle, and when he sees what’s going on he turns round and goes in to Mrs Bellows and asks about her dog licence—so he says. And my old man’s new trousers being torn like nothing you ever saw! ’
‘I can see him out there now,’ said Richard, staring at the window. ‘Look, there’s the official helmet jostling amongst the crowd.’
‘And a lot of good that’ll do, with Porch’s fat head under it, said Ellen, furiously. ‘Do you want more water in that tea? She picked up the pot and carried it out.
Ellen was shaken. As she went to where the electric kettle reflected the sun in hissing stream, she went on talking to herself.
You know what’s going to happen to you, don’t you?’ she muttered. ‘You’re not going to get out of this, you’re not. You’re going to be stuck here, hour after hour, you are, and you won’t be able to go, not out there, you won’t. It’s a lynch, that’s what that is, mate. A lynch.
That’s how they all stare like that on the telly. A lynch, that’s what that is. How am I going to get back home, then?’
She marched back with the pot.
‘I don’t like it,’ she said. ‘I don’t like it at all. It ain’t natural, them all standing out there like that.’
‘Just get on with the things, Ellen.’ said Jennifer sharply. ‘They’ll go. Do upstairs and don’t look outside.’ ‘Well, I don’t know, I don’t like it,’ Ellen mumbled as she went out again.
When she had quite gone, Jennifer said:
‘What the devil did happen last night? What did you do, for goodness’ sake?’
‘What did I do?’ he cried. ‘Couldn’t you have done something too? Why me?’
‘I just went to sleep. You went out before you forgot what you were doing. You could have done something.’
‘To get a crowd like this I must have cut the whole community to ribbons, cooked it up and had supper! ’ he shouted. ‘Don’t be daft! What would you have to do to get a gang of honkers like this? Tamburlaine wouldn’t be in it. Bluebeard would be a giggle. There’s hundreds of them out there! ’
‘I’m so confused I don’t know—’ she said, marching up and down. He watched her skirt following her legs; it was very attractive. He wondered how on earth something had stepped in to make such things seem peculiar.
She stopped and turned to him. The skirt swirled, quilting gleaming in the sunlight from the window.
‘I’ve had a feeling about that woman in the pub,’ she said, almost defiantly.<
br />
‘What?’ he said, his eyes widening. ‘Barbara?’
Yes, Barbara! I’ve had a feeling that something’s going to happen.’
‘What a peculiar thing to say!’ he said, staring. ‘Why this all of a sudden?’
She stopped in front of him angrily.
‘It’s been in ray mind a long time! ’
‘Well, why the devil didn’t you say so? What has, anyway?’
‘That woman and you. I’ve had the feeling something’s going to happen! ’
‘You’re mad. darling. You’ve let this get you over the edge. The dear brain is getting dizzy slipslopping over the chasm. Barbara is just a nice girl who happens to have the pub.’
‘Her husband has left her.’
‘That’s why she has the pub. If he hadn’t left her, he would have the pub. My dear girl, if I’d known your liule mind had been concerned with such dross I would have laughed at you before. But it never occurred to me. Why should I go with Barbara when I have you? You’re much prettier though you are sometimes a bit stupid—’
‘What did you do last night?’ She cut in, jabbing him in the chest with her finger.
‘Look, darling, this unreal thing has upset you and you’re trying to think of something ordinary as an escape route—’
‘Ordinary? Do you think it’s ordinary? You and that woman?’
‘Look, it isn’t me and that woman! It’s nothing of the sort! For goodness sake try and be reasonable, even though everything else isn’t! ’
‘I’ve guessed this all a long time—’
lie got hold of her, swung her round, then flung his arms round her middle and carried her, kicking madly, to the big window.
‘Now look out there, you big nit-wit!’ he panted. ‘Do you really think that’s anything to do with me and a woman called Barbara Baynes?’
He let her go. She turned round and put her face to his shoulder.
‘Oh God, I’m frightened!’ she said. ‘Why don’t you do something?’
‘What can I do?’ he said, an odd calm descending. ‘I can’t describe it—the atmosphere when you get out there.
It’s appalling. Terrifying. The heat and the smell of them—you just can’t explain it. It’s a kind of emotion. They look different. They don’t look like people, they’re caricatures, hateful, gloating, ugly caricatures! ’
She looked at him. and her despair faded a little.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘But what is it? What’s different? Are they all different? Aren’t they real? Is that what you mean? That they’re not out there at all?’
“They’re out there,’ he said, his voice thickening in a dry throat. ‘Yes, they’re there all right.’
Through the window they could hear the bee humming in the flowers and the thousand other small sounds that went to make the heat of a summer day. Very far off, isolated, it seemed, by a barrier of peace and sweetness, the vague sounds of human activity came from the vill- age.
Yet beyond the hedge they could see the grey stream of watchers, blob-faced, staring. There was a slight movement every now and again as others came towards the front and the vanguard gave way their places. The lone helmet of Porch, the village constable, could be seen now and again moving in the scattered host, as if questioning.
’I can’t believe it,’ Jennifer said. ‘It can’t be happening to us!’
He walked away to the hall doorway. It was most unfortunate lie had forgotten to pay the phone bill again. In the old days thry used to ring tip in a voice that no man could resist, and you went and paid. Now they just cut it off and charged for putting it on again.
But this day, of all days—
He had a sudden urge to rush out of the house and down the lane, pushing these glaring beasts aside, driving them before him. scaring them into flight.
It was the kind of thought an infant has as he kicks against a door.
He heard Ellen banging and knocking about upstairs shifting things about with more than usual energy. The usual shrieking call of a pop song was also missing. It was like hearing the drummer beating on while the rest of the orchestra had gone for a drink; a kind of tension beat, the promise of a sudden attack.
He strained to push his mind back to the previous evening. He remembered working, then eating supper, then going into the study to watch the play. He could not remember what the play was, or anything about it. It was just something, with people, and that was all. He remembered a tenseness, a kind of restless excitement that had stopped him noticing the play. And then he had gone out and down to the pub. It was dusk.
He remembered walking down the lane and feeling the comfortable shape of the carved walking stick in his hand. He remembered hitting at things in the hedge and seeing the fireflies burning in the shadows. He remembered wondering if they were alight inside, like lamps,
and burnt out after a few minutes and died. He remembered wondering whether there was not some story theme in the burning-out firefly idea, but not whether he had tried to make anything of it.
He seemed to remember being in the pub, or outside it in the garden, but he couldn’t be sure it was last night.
He had been there most nights while Jennifer had been at her mother’s. Mother had twisted her back.
He turned back into the room and picked up the morning paper to scan the date.
‘What’s the matter now”‘ she said.
I just wanted to make sure it is today,’ lie said. ‘That we haven’t done a Rip Van Winkle and woken up weeks later.’
‘It’s still summer.’ she said, then caught herself and laughed. You are a fool! How could we?
It was just a thought,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t seem any more daft than looking out and seeing that lot of peabrains, as if somebody planted them there during the night.’
‘They weren’t there when Ellen came.’ She untied and retied her sash. ‘I want to have a bath, but I don’t like the idea.’
‘They can’t see through the bricks,’ he said.
‘The way they’re looking they might be able to,’ she said. ‘What are they looking at?’
‘Nothing,’ he said.
He went to the window and looked out again. She stood close to him, and he put his arm round her shoulders suddenly.
‘I’m right,’ he said. ‘I feel it.’
‘They’re looking at nothing?’
He felt her tremble.
‘Yes. There’s nothing to see—yet,’ he said. ‘They’re waiting for something to happen. That’s what it is! ’
TWO
The policeman Porch was hot. He came to the door in his blue shirt and slacks, his tie just a bit loose to let out the heat. He wiped the inside band of his helmet with his elbow as he waited for an answer to his ring.
“Come in,’ Richard said, entering the hall. Jennifer came behind. ‘Excuse us. We haven’t shaved.’ He smiled.
Porch stared from Richard to Jennifer, then cleaved his throat.
“What are you doing about this horde outside?’ Richard said, before he could speak.
‘Mrs Chance! ’
All three looked up to the direction of the squawk. Ellen was leaning over the bannisters on the landing.
‘The cleaner won’t go,’ said Ellen. “I had a look and a lot of dead spiders fell out of it.’
‘Just use a broom.’ said Jennifer quickly.
‘Yes,’ said Ellen and disappeared in a doorway.
‘Why don’t you tell them all to go?’ demanded Jennifer. swinging back to Porch.
Porch showed his teeth, a freeing of his throat muscles rather than a grin.
‘It isn’t all that easy, madam,’ he said, slowly. ‘’Tis a private lane, you see. If they was on the highway, then we could move them on, but on private property we can’t.’
‘But that’s ridiculous! ’ said Jennifer angrily.
‘Yes, but it’s the law, madam. You see, nobody can’t stand on the highway and keep still. That’s an obstruction, a trespass. That’s how you
can be charged for obstruction with a car when you’re not obstructing anything, you see. And the car is just the same as your two feet, according to the law. You must keep moving.’
‘But surely you can do something if a man’s on private property! ’ protested Jennifer, going a little pale.
‘The only thing you can try is prove a danger to the peace, disturbing it, that is” said Porch stolidly. ‘But that’s a long rigmarole, that is. Then there’s damage to property. That’s easier—provided it’s being done.’
‘Aren’t these people disturbing the peace?’ Jennifer almost shouted.
‘Well, it would be very difficult to prove,’ said Porch.
‘Haven’t we got any rights at all?’ cried Jennifer.
Porch regarded the inside of his helmet.
‘Well, my experience is, madam, that people think they have rights but when they try to prove them in a Court, well—they seem to sort of trickle away. Just when you think you’re right, they prove you’re wrong. It’s very difficult, madam.’
Richard stepped in to stop Jennifer losing her temper outright.
‘Yes, but what is being done?’ he said. ‘Surely there’s an obstruction up on the road?’
‘That’s the point, sir. The town police are up there, but this crowd keeps moving. It’s changing all the time. We send cars on, straight through, but they turn off into the private lanes and the fields and we can’t do anything then. The people up on the road are walking about. You can’t stop them doing that, sir. They’re moving down the lane, sir, too. Seems they just look a while and then go away.’
‘But what are they looking at?’ Richard said.
‘Well, at the house, sir, it seems. But I can’t see why.’
‘Didn’t you ask them?’ Jennifer said, greatly impatient.
The Green Drift Page 2