The Remarkables (The Remarkable Owen Johnson, part 1)

by Elliott, A. D.

  “She was more than happy when you arrived, Owen, don’t ever doubt that.” She patted his leg again reassuredly.

  Owen smiled back at her, but a doubt remained. “What are we going to do about Dad?” he asked.

  Mrs Argyle smacked her hands on her thighs and nodded. “Yes, your father. Well, if we were to ask him he’d want you to leave well alone, and to come away with me and be safe.” Owen opened his mouth in protest but was silenced by Mrs Argyle raising a hand.

  “But,” she continued, “I know there is no point in following that particular course. You’re far too headstrong for that. And besides, if there’s one thing we were always rather good at in The Remarkables, it was rescue missions.” Owen returned the smile that Mrs Argyle was sporting.

  “Where are we headed?” Owen asked as he watched Windsor Castle shrink back into the distance behind.

  “Cornwall,” Ken answered.

  “Are we going straight to see Mr Wyllt?” Ellie asked enthusiastically.

  “Yes, but that’s all we’re going to say about it for now,” Mrs Argyle said. Ellie shrank back into her seat and sulked.

  “Katie’s in Cornwall,” Owen said to nobody in particular.

  “Is she?” Mrs Argyle said, in a tone that suggested that she was quite aware of this information. A few butterflies fluttered to life in Owen’s stomach, secretly hoping that there would be time to see her. This feeling of warmth was soon replaced with guilt for not being more concerned for his father’s welfare.

  “Dad will be okay, won’t he?” Owen asked.

  Clive turned to Owen. “Your dad is a mine of information that The Remnant would find invaluable, and he was clever enough to squirrel away secrets that the Remnant would never want revealed with people that would release them should anything happen to him. They won’t do anything to jeopardise that.

  “I fear that all of these events are because they want you, Owen. For years they have been desperate to get their grubby hands on someone who can reach out into the other worlds.” He grinned and pointed at himself. “Just like me.”

  “How do you know that?” Owen asked.

  “Your father picked up titbits of information over the last year or so,” Mrs Argyle explained. “Although he didn’t know for what ends, he gathered that they were desperate to obtain someone who could travel between the parallels.”

  “So why don’t they just come after you?” Owen asked Clive.

  “They keep trying!” he replied, shaking his head dramatically but smiling still. “Our friend in the suit this morning was the latest in a long line of would-be kidnappers. Normally I make my escape before they realise I’m gone, and find somewhere else to sleep. That house wasn’t mine, by the way Owen, even though I have used it in the past, right Cee?” She ignored him.

  “Whose house is it?” Owen asked.

  “Dunno who owns it now,” said Clive. “Ordinarily I just pick somewhere that looks empty and slip in for the night. But this one has…sentimental value.” Owen realised that he had raised his eyebrows in response to this admission of squatting.

  “I never steal anything!” Clive said, clearly offended, to which Mrs Argyle snorted. “Well, apart from the occasional mug of coffee, maybe and the odd taxi ride.” Owen thought back to Clive’s behaviour upon entering the taxi earlier and realised why and how he had offered such a generous fare. “Anyway, normally I slip away as soon as the owners return or if people get wind of me being there. The Remnant usually track me down after a few months, but to date they’ve never clapped eyes on me face to face. But today, there was a distraction.”

  “Trilby,” said Owen.

  “Trilby,” Clive confirmed. “What did you make of our friend in the hat, Cee? Remind you of anyone particular?”

  Owen could see Mrs Argyle frowning face reflected in the wing mirror. “I’d prefer that we didn’t speculate on that for now,” she said, then turning to Ellie, “understood?” Ellie locked her lips with an imaginary key, which she tucked away in her handbag. At least she didn’t throw it away, Owen thought, hoping she’d let something slip later.

  “How does The Remnant know about my power?” asked Owen. “I’ve only known about it for a day, and that was after Dad was taken.”

  “They have their methods,” Clive said. “As do we, of course.” Ellie grinned and nodded in apparent agreement. “Have you brought any treats for our friend later?” Clive asked Ken. “You know, to entice him out?”

  “Treats?” Owen asked, wondering who or what would need coaxing with an offering. “Are we going to see another cow or something?”

  “If only,” Ken responded. “No, the good Mr Wyllt has certain tastes that make him more…amenable. And in answer to your question, Clive, I have a box in the back which should be to his liking.”

  “Goody-goody,” Clive said, unenthusiastically.

  Owen looked into the boot behind him, but all he could see was a cardboard box containing an old cassette player and a stack of old tapes. The actual box of ‘treats’ must be in the trailer with Myrtle.

  “So who is this man we’re going to see?” Owen asked.

  “Mr Wyllt?” Ellie asked. “Oh he’s marvellous, he really is. If anyone will know where your dad is, the old wizard will.”

  The mention of old wizards and Ellie’s overenthusiasm about everything was making Owen start to doubt whether she would be a good source of information after all.

  15

  Mill

  The journey continued for another four hours, with just one stop for a speedy late lunch. They were greeted in Cornwall by bright sunshine and blue skies. Owen wished that he had asked Katie where she was going to be staying, but he guessed that the chances of seeing her would be slim at best.

  “Where are we stopping tonight?” asked Owen.

  “We’re roughing it, I’m afraid,” said Ken. “I’ve got a couple of tents in the trailer. Can you handle that after your decadent London lifestyle, Clive?”

  “So long as it’s only for one night,” replied Clive dryly, “I’m sure I’ll be able to do without my four poster bed.”

  They turned off from the main road and proceeded along a winding lane, at a speed that Owen thought was rather inappropriately fast considering the lack of seatbelts and several tonnes of cattle that they were towing behind.

  They passed through a few small villages until Ken announced that their long drive was at an end. Through the windscreen Owen could see that they were entering a small town called Tintagel (which, according to its sign post, welcomed careful drivers, so he doubted Ken would be greeted with open arms). Beyond the town lay the coast.

  They passed signs giving directions to a castle and King Arthur’s stone, conjuring images of knights and round tables. They drove along the main road a little further that was flanked by several tea shops and a very old looking Post Office, until they pulled into a campsite.

  Ken drove to a spot on the far side of the field, away from the handful of tents and caravans that were already pitched. They all exited the car and stretched in unison, after which Ken strolled over to the campsite office, whilst Mrs Argyle studied their surroundings.

  “So why here?” asked Owen. “Are we going to ask King Arthur to free my dad?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” said Mrs Argyle, the corners of her mouth revealing a smile, “we don’t need a knight; we need a wizard.” She clapped her hands together and walked towards the trailer. Owen stared at the back of her head wondering if Ellie’s eccentricities had worn off on her. “I hope Ken’s found somewhere for Myrtle to stay,” she called back. “The last time that we camped, the stupid animal decided that she wanted to stay in the tent with us. Damn nearly gored me with those wretched horns.”

  Mrs Argyle opened up the back of the trailer and pulled out two large duffle bags, hastily closing the door again to stop the cow from escaping. Owen could only assume that Myrtle’s devotion to Ken prevented her from blasting the doors off the back of the trailer. Tossing the bags on the fl
oor Mrs Argyle gave the task of erecting the tents to Owen, Clive and Ellie, whilst she went and checked up on her brother.

  Owen had been camping enough times to be quite a dab hand at putting a tent up, so he offered to build one whilst Clive set about the other one. Ellie looked a bit put out that she didn’t have one of her own to tackle, but offered to help Owen as his tent was the larger of the two.

  Owen wasn’t sure how much help she would be because of her arm, but he soon felt ashamed at doubting her usefulness as she deftly slipped poles together by tucking one end under her armpit.

  “You haven’t asked me about my arm,” she said, apparently noticing Owen looking at her swing a long pole under her arm. “Don’t be embarrassed!” she said lightly, after Owen felt his face flush red.

  “It’s none of my business,” Owen said sheepishly.

  “It’d be a shame not to tell you though,” she said excitedly, “it’s quite gruesome really!”

  “Only if you’re sure,” Owen answered, not entirely convinced he wanted to hear how she had suffered what he now understood to be an amputation, and not something she was born with.

  “Well,” she began, “a few years ago I was sent away from here. Far away.”

  “Why were you sent away?” Owen asked.

  “Do you know,” she said, placing her hand on her hip, “I’m not really sure. I had a bit of a tiff with my old mentor, Mr Wyllt, which led to a bit of a commotion.”

  “In what way?”

  “Well, he was supposed to be teaching me how to use my gift properly, without making people go a little funny around me.”

  “A little funny? What does your gift involve?”

  “I can sense if people have got a power like we have. I’m a bit like a compass really. If there’s any kind of movement between the worlds, I’ll pick it up.”

  “Can you sense me then?” Owen asked.

  “Oh yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “Do you know, I thought I was getting my wires all mixed up again as there has been so much activity coming from your neck of the woods over the past few months.”

  Owen frowned. “That’s odd. I didn’t start using my powers properly until yesterday, or maybe the weekend before.” He was now fairly certain that his heroic escape from the dog in the park was assisted by his hitherto unknown powers.

  “That is odd,” said Ellie, looking puzzled. “I was sure it’s been going on since at least the winter.”

  “Maybe it was Mrs Argyle you were detecting?”

  “No, I know what her activity feels like. It has a different resonance to it, more steady. Yours is really intense, the new ones usually are.” She stood still in thought for a few moments, before shaking her head. “No, you’re right; I’m probably getting mixed up.

  “Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! Occasionally when I’m trying to sense people, I concentrate a little bit too hard and end up recreating the effects of the very person that I’m looking for.

  “For instance, when I was training with Mr Wyllt, he had me looking for Ken because, apparently, he likes to use his powers more than most. So we remained sitting there for ages and ages, on the beach down there because the sound of the sea is supposed to be relaxing. It was sooooo boring.

  “After what seemed like days I sensed Ken was doing his thing. Like I said, we’d been there for so long it took me by surprise so I got a bit over-excited. Next thing we knew I’d opened up a massive hole from which poured so much water that it dragged a couple walking by with their dog into the sea.

  “Don’t worry, though! The dog was fine.”

  “Oh,” said Owen. “Good.”

  “Yes, but I got into lots of trouble. Mr Wyllt was very cross as he thought he was going to have to move again, and he really likes it here. Victoria was angry as well as she had promised to keep my powers under control.”

  “Who did she promise that to?”

  “The guys in the tower.”

  Owen waited for a further explanation but one wasn’t forthcoming.

  “Well,” Ellie continued, “they insisted that I go back as apparently that was the agreement they had with Victoria when she first took me away from there. So back I went to the tower and stayed there for a while, trying to control my gift like I had attempted with Mr Wyllt.

  “Everything was going well until I detected a really potent use of power. It was intoxicating, Owen! I couldn’t help but feel its strength, it came on so suddenly. But then I lost control again and yet again opened up another portal, this time it was one that you could walk through.”

  “Like Clive can do?”

  “Similar, but not as stable. Whoever was creating these ones couldn’t keep them open for long. Anyway this one opened, but it was only the size of a football. I don’t know what came over me but I just had to look through it.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Well you know those big metal doors like you get on lifts?”

  Owen nodded, concerned as to what was going to happen next.

  “Right, imagine a big metal sliding door had a baby with a lobster and that’s what I saw. It was really quite horrid so I quickly pulled back my head. Unfortunately I slipped and my arm fell through. Next thing you know, it had got my arm.”

  She said this much more casually than he thought he would have done in the same position. Owen stared back at her for a moment, slightly perplexed. “Your arm was cut off by a metal lobster?”

  Ellie laughed a little too loudly and hit him with the pole she was holding. “No, silly! It was like a metal lobster. Except it was black. Not completely black, though, there were gaps underneath. But the eyes, the eyes were blacker than you could ever imagine…”

  She suddenly went very quiet, a vacant look on her face. She was staring at where her arm would have been, and the pole she was carrying fell to the floor. Owen felt his arms start to tingle, and it looked like Ellie was starting to glow.

  “Whoa there!” shouted Clive, sprinting the short distance from where he was halfway through building his tent. He held Ellie gently by the shoulder with one hand, and brushed her hair behind her left ear with the other. “Hey there Ellie! Are you daydreaming again?”

  Ellie shivered and moved her head as if trying to shake off an unpleasant thought. “That was strange!” she said, her smile returning. “One minute I was here, and another I was back there.” She became quiet once again, but Clive gave her a hug and patted her on the back.

  “Now, now,” he said, still holding her tight, “you’re right here with me, and Ken, and Celia, and of course Owen right here.” Letting go of her he pointed at Owen. “And look at your tent! I’m going to finish mine first and there’s two of you!”

  “Not on your nelly!” said Ellie, and picked up the pole she had just dropped, which she used to give Owen a gentle poke. “Come on slowcoach, we’re not coming second to silly old Clive!” And with a giggle she set about putting up the tent with a new found vigour, shouting encouragement at Owen as they raced Clive in getting the tents finished.

  Owen had previously assumed that Clive found Ellie to be an annoying presence, but the tender care he was showing her now showed otherwise.

  ~ ρ ~

  About half an hour of uneventful tent building progressed, until Owen tapped in the last guy rope to cheers and frenzied hopping about from Ellie. Clive protested the win as it appeared that all of the pegs for his tent had found their way back into the trailer (Ellie looked very sheepish). Owen declared a draw to try and broker a peace agreement, and suggested that they go and find Ken and Mrs Argyle so that Myrtle could stretch her legs.

  The campsite office was deserted so they ventured onto the main road, finding the siblings sitting at a small metal table outside of a tea shop, sharing a pot of tea with a couple of empty plates in front of them.

  “Oh that’s very nice!” said Clive, hands on hips. “We do all the hard work and you too put your feet up and sip tea. I’m surprised you haven’t got a couple of pasties on the go.”

 
“They’d run out of them,” said Ken, pushing his empty plate away, “so we had to settle for a scone.” Clive looked even less impressed.

  “Right then,” Mrs Argyle said, getting to her feet, Ken doing likewise, “no time for dilly-dallying, let’s get Myrtle settled then we’ll go visiting.”

  “What about our scones?!” asked Clive heatedly.

  “That was their last two,” announced Ken, patting his stomach contentedly as he passed by Clive, who responded with a rude gesture of defiance that Owen noticed was reserved until after Mrs Argyle’s gaze was averted.

  Ken led Myrtle out of the trailer, and as she sidled alongside Owen she stopped and stared at him with her big brown eyes. Until now the she had seemed wary of him, so Owen took the opportunity to try and build a friendship with this unlikely ally. He held out his hand gingerly, and as Myrtle didn’t recoil or send him careering across the site, he took a step closer and stroked her soft fur over her right shoulder. She made a noise which Owen interpreted as permission for him to continue so he moved his hand up and scratched the top of ran his hand along her head, then continued back and felt along her horns. Rather than feeling cold to the touch as he had anticipated, they were warm. He let go in surprise.

  “Warm, aren’t they?” Ken said

  “Yes,” agreed Owen who felt them again.

  “They’ve got a blood supply just like the rest of her,” Ken explained.

  Owen nodded. Myrtle had clearly had enough of this physiology lesson and trotted through a gate that Mrs Argyle had opened and passed into the adjacent field, which was home to a couple of black and white Friesians. She trotted over to them excitedly, and then looked dejected when they practically sprinted to the far end of the field on her approach. Recovering from the rejection, she found solace in a trough of water and some long grass.