Be Careful What You Hear

by Paul Pilkington

  I shifted in the bed. ‘Like what?’

  Again that smile. ‘I’ve booked a weekend away.’

  I asked the question, but I already knew the answer. ‘When for?’

  He hesitated, which confirmed what I already knew. ‘This weekend.’

  We’re all going away…

  And that’s where it will all end.

  I swallowed, and tried to push my fears below the surface as James waited expectantly for a reaction. ‘But today’s Friday. You booked a holiday for tomorrow?’

  James was disappointed by my muted reaction. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where is the cottage?’

  He seemed crestfallen. ‘Devon. North Devon. I thought it would be great to get away. We had such a great time down there in September. And with everything that’s been going on recently, I just thought, what the hell, let’s take off and get away from it all. Particularly as I was taking Monday off anyway.’

  I looked again at the cottage. As I said, normally it would be my idea of a dream. It was only the weird events of last night that was making this seem somewhat sinister – except that I’d already decided that last night was not what it had first appeared to be. ‘Is it child friendly?’

  He immediately brightened, sliding up next to me on the bed. ‘I was careful to check. It’s got a cot, and a high chair.’

  ‘Heating?’

  ‘Not central heating, but it’s got a wood burner. I looked down the reviews, and there are plenty from families with young children. They said it was fine for them – cosy. And the fire has got a child proof guard.’

  I thought for a few seconds. ‘November isn’t my ideal time to hit the coast. What’s the weather forecast like?’

  ‘Cold, but dry and sunny,’ he replied, without missing a beat. ‘There’s a low pressure system nearby, but they said it’s going to miss where the cottage is. We just need to bring warm clothes to wrap up in.’

  ‘Well, you’ve certainly done your homework.’ I clicked through the various images on the site. The inside of the cottage looked fantastic. It had been done up very nicely. I could really see ourselves sitting there, by the fire. In a way, it was a pity it would be just for the weekend. But James had a full list on Tuesday, so would need to be back by Monday evening at the latest.

  ‘I guess you wouldn’t be able to get your money back,’ I said. I was teasing slightly, but also wanted to gently make the point that I didn’t really welcome such surprises.

  ‘Err, no, not at such short notice.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said, regretting my teasing. ‘Let’s do it. But packing is going to be a bit of a nightmare. Maybe we’d better do some now, before we go to bed.’ I twisted around to the clock radio. It was gone eleven.

  James smiled and kissed me deeply. ‘How about we just pack in the morning?’

  I kissed him back. ‘Okay, Mr Adams, but we’ll regret it tomorrow.’

  He grinned. ‘It’s been a long time since you’ve said that.’

  6

  I lay awake in the darkness. James had fallen asleep, but I was struggling to find peace. My mind was racing. James’ decision to book the last minute break had unnerved me. Not just because of my deep down concern about what I had thought I had heard over the baby monitor, but also because I didn’t really like such surprises. I was a planner, and liked to be strategic about things like holidays. I would spend at least a week before going away getting things ready in my head; making sure we had the right clothes, the right equipment, and the right supplies. Now we had Grace, I was even more meticulous. We had to think about feeding equipment, changing mats, nappies, bath wash, her clothes, sheets, baby sleeping bags, and the monitor. The list went on. So as I stared at the ceiling, I realised that there was only one way to get to sleep, and that was to surrender to my nature, get up, and begin planning.

  I slipped out of bed without James even stirring, and padded out of the room. The heating had only gone off half an hour ago, but already there was a chill in the air as I crossed the landing and crept downstairs. I sat down at the breakfast table in the kitchen, armed with a pen and my trusty notepad – it was in this that I wrote my daily and weekly lists. I’d always been a ferocious list maker, ever since I was little. It was the way I organised my life, and I’d be completely lost without it.

  I started listing the items that we would need for the weekend. I cursed silently that I hadn’t saved the list from our holiday in September. That would have been the sensible thing to do. But no matter. I soon had a list that I was happy contained most if not all of the things that we would need to squash and squeeze into the car for the long trip across to the South West. I glanced up at the wall clock – it had only taken me half an hour.

  Tap!

  I stiffened at the noise from outside. It sounded like something had tapped on the patio doors, off to my right, shielded by the curtains. I found myself holding my breath, as I waited for the noise to come again.

  Tap! Tap!

  ‘My God,’ I whispered. I didn’t dare move. Was it the wind, kicking up some stones or sticks against the glass?

  Except I hadn’t noticed that it was windy outside. Normally when the wind was strong you could hear it whistle across the top of our bedroom window. I looked up at the ceiling. I was directly below our bed, where James was sleeping

  I made to stand, deciding that I would head back upstairs and assume that the noise was just something natural. I’d just reached the door, when it was there again.

  Tap! Tap! Tap!

  I looked back again towards the curtains. I could still just turn around and go upstairs. But instead, I inched towards the patio. I grabbed at the curtains and hesitated.

  What the hell was I doing?

  I flung back the curtains and jumped back at the sight of the creature looking in from the other side of the glass.

  ‘What the…?’

  It was a seagull. The bird tapped twice on the glass, as if wanting to confirm that it was indeed the source of the noise. I’d never known seagulls to be hanging around gardens in the middle of the night. The creature cocked its head, observing me. I must have looked equally intriguing to it. I wondered whether it was hurt. That could certainly explain why it was where it was – it could be taking shelter, resting from an injury.

  Relaxing, I crouched down and touched the glass just next to the bird. It brought its beak right up to the glass, and it felt like we were connecting. But then, as if startled, it shot skywards, arcing into the air and away.

  It was then that I saw the cottage.

  I cupped my hands against the patio glass. ‘What is this?’ Out ahead the garden now stretched some hundred metres or so downhill into the darkness. And then there was the cottage, at the edge of the cliff side. I could see light coming from a window.

  I slid open the doors and jumped down onto the grass. A strong, salty sea breeze hit me hard across the face. I ran downhill against the wind, towards the cottage. Now I was closer, I could see smoke rising from the chimney, and someone moving across the lit window.

  I wasn’t sure if they had seen my approach.

  As the cottage neared, I realised just how close to the edge of the cliff it was. It was barely a few metres away from a vertiginous drop down into the sea. Waves crashed and smashed on the rocks below.

  I turned back towards the cottage and rapped on the door. I heard scraping of a chair across a floor, and the sound of footsteps coming closer.

  The door was yanked open.

  ‘James?’ I said, as my husband looked back at me vaguely. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Waiting for you,’ he replied, unsmiling. He stepped towards me, but something about his manner made me take an instinctive step back. I realised I was too close to the cliff’s edge to retreat any further, and wobbled on the spot. Suddenly the sound of the crashing waves seemed deafening.

  ‘James, you’re scaring me. Can we just go inside?’

  I heard the cry of the seagull, which whirled overh
ead.

  James smiled, but it wasn’t a smile that I recognised. ‘This is such a perfect spot to end it all.’

  ‘Please, James, let’s just go inside the cottage.’ I attempted to step back towards him, but he met me halfway, bringing his hands up, palms facing me.

  ‘Time to end the pain.’ He stated. ‘The pain for both of us.’

  I shook my head. ‘We’ve got through the bad times. We can move forward now, you, me and Grace.’

  He shook his head ruefully. ‘No, it’s just you and me now.’

  Anger and fear flared in equal measure, as a particularly strong gust of wind buffeted me, forcing me to fight my ground. ‘What have you done with her?’

  ‘Come here, George.’ He took another step forward, and then pushed out with both hands, sending us both flying over the edge, into the abyss.

  I woke in a panic, totally disorientated. But then there was intense relief, when I realised that I had fallen asleep at the breakfast table. On the table was my completed list of items to take on the holiday. The pen had rolled off the table’s surface and lay on the floor. I bent down to pick it up.

  Tap!

  This time it was real. But I wasn’t going to stop and find out what was making the noise. Instead I ran back upstairs, sliding under the covers and wrapping my arms around James, who was still sleeping soundly. I considered waking him, and telling him what I had heard downstairs. But by the time I had weighed up the pros and cons of disturbing his slumber, I’d fallen asleep.

  ***

  Despite my disrupted night, my body clock woke me early and I had time to shower before feeding Grace. As I watched her sucking on the bottle, I thought back to the dream. It had seemed so real. And then there was the tapping sound that I had heard upon waking. Maybe that noise, whatever its cause, had entered my subconscious when I’d fallen asleep. My busy brain had then found its own explanation for the tapping, merging it with the holiday, which of course was the last thing I had been thinking about before falling asleep.

  You also didn’t need to be a dream doctor to explain why I had dreamt about James pushing me over the edge of the cliff. No matter how hard I tried to push away the fears that came from what I thought I’d heard over the monitor, they were still there.

  ‘Hi,’ James said, standing at the door to Grace’s room, rubbing his forehead sleepily with the palm of his hand. He was still in his pyjamas, and his hair was messy from sleep. ‘You were obviously up bright and early.’ He moved across and touched Grace lightly on the cheek, while simultaneously kissing me on the top of my head.

  ‘I was up last night too,’ I revealed.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Went downstairs and wrote out a list for today.’

  ‘I see.’

  I shrugged. ‘I couldn’t get to sleep.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m just going to jump in the shower. Then I’ll get going with packing.’

  I took Grace into our bedroom while I got some of our things ready. She was happy on her play mat, grabbing at the toys I’d distributed near to her. I thought James was still in the shower, but I heard a noise outside and from our upstairs vantage point saw him in the driveway, circling our car. He was prodding a foot against the wheels.

  I opened the window. ‘Is everything okay?’

  He looked up, looking perturbed. ‘I’ll need to pump up the tyres.’

  I was sure he’d only done it a few weeks ago, but I didn’t question him from the window, as I spotted Max walking past, taking an interest. So instead, I resumed packing, checking that Grace was still happy. It was still relatively safe to take my eyes off her for a minute or so, as she wasn’t yet at the crawling, or even rolling stage. But I didn’t like her out of my sight for long. I’d heard stories of even very young babies who had suddenly started crawling for the first time, and had got into danger right under the noses of their unsuspecting parents. In one horror story reported in the local press, a baby not much older than Grace had crawled out of an open front door and right into the path of a car, being reversed out of the garage by her mother. Thankfully the father, who was in the house at the time, realised just in time and frantically waved the car to a stop, just inches from the baby.

  ***

  ‘You okay?’ I asked James, as I stood at the front door. Grace was twisting and turning to see what daddy was doing.

  He was pumping away at the back tyre. He paused and looked up. ‘It’s fine. Just getting sorted for the long journey.’

  I looked at the base of the tyre. It actually did look flat against the ground. James saw me looking and his face registered something which made me suspicious. I stepped onto the driveway and peered around to the other back tyre. That one was obviously completely flat. Last year I had been driving when a nail had shredded one of my tyres, leaving a gaping tear. The damage was so bad that the RAC couldn’t repair it. This tyre looked flatter than on that occasion.

  I checked the front tyre. That appeared to be okay, but James had been out there for a while, so he’d probably already pumped it back up.

  James got to his feet, wiping off the dirt from his hands with a rag. ‘They were all like that,’ he revealed. ‘All completely flat.’

  ‘Really? Who would do that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Kids, probably.’ He made a show of glancing up and down the deserted street, as if the guilty parties might have hung around. ‘I guess we’re on one of the main routes from town, and with it being Friday night last night.’

  I pulled Grace closer. I didn’t like the idea of someone doing something malicious to us like that. Even though in the grand scheme of things, it was on the much lower end of the scale of antisocial behaviour. But with that coming on top of the back garden prowler sighting, it was certainly enough to unnerve me. I couldn’t help asking James the question: ‘You’re not worried that it’s got something to do with what Max saw?’

  The thought obviously hadn’t occurred to him. ‘You think so?’

  ‘I hope not. But it’s two weird things in as many days.’

  Make that three…

  James rubbed at his stubble, looking at the car. He often went unshaven when we were on holiday in the wild countryside, aiming for the rugged look. I liked it for a change. ‘As I said, I think it’s just kids messing around. I used to do that sort of thing when I was young.’

  ‘You?’ I was amused, as I’d never thought of James as being a trouble maker. He was a stickler for the rules on most things.

  ‘Nothing terrible. Things like knock and run, budding windows…’

  ‘Budding windows?’

  I was embarrassing him now, but I genuinely didn’t know what he meant. ‘Throwing rose buds at windows. You know, you pull them off the roses, throw them at the neighbours’ windows, and run off before they see you.’

  ‘James Adams,’ I chided in jest. I bounced Grace up and down, and she giggled with delight. ‘Grace, I don’t want you doing anything like that when you grow up.’

  ‘She won’t,’ James replied, stroking one of her hands. ‘Because she’s not a boy.’

  ‘Too right,’ I smiled. Grace smiled too. Maybe she got the joke.

  James touched me lightly on the arm. ‘Seriously though, George, try not to worry about the tyre thing. I know it’s unsettling, but I really don’t think there’s anything terrible behind it.’

  ‘You weren’t going to tell me about it, were you?’

  ‘No. Because I knew you’d worry.’

  ‘Fair enough. Have you checked the back garden yet?’

  ‘Yes, I did a quick walk around before I noticed the tyres.’

  ‘And?’ I brought Grace closer to my body, realising that it was a bit colder than I’d thought. I would have to get Grace inside soon, as she only had one layer on.

  ‘And nothing had been taken. As you said, the shed was locked, nothing was out of place. So maybe Max was seeing things.’

  ‘Did you ask him? I saw him walking past before.’

  ‘He asked if we�
��d decided to call the police. Seemed a little disappointed when I said we hadn’t.’

  ‘You’ve decided we shouldn’t?’

  ‘I don’t think there’s much point,’ he replied. ‘There’s no evidence out there – no footprints. Nothing taken. I can’t see what they would do.’

  ‘What about the security light?’

  ‘I’ll look into it some more when we get back from the weekend away. I’ve calmed down now about it. We don’t want to overreact.’

  James’ calmness about the situation made me instantly relax. ‘I’ll let you get on with the tyres,’ I said, ‘it’s colder out here than I thought for Grace. And we’ve got quite a lot of packing to do.’

  James nodded. ‘One piece of not so good news. I checked the weather app this morning. Looks like that depression has changed course. Better make sure we pack our waterproofs and a couple of umbrellas.’

  7

  Necessity is the mother of invention, and the limited amount of time I had for packing meant that I limited my time packing. Within two hours, everything was packed and in the car. I can’t say that the morning hadn’t been stressful, but it was liberating in some ways to be forced to go against my normal preference of advance preparation.

  I had heeded James’ warning and had packed all manner of waterproof clothing, for us and Grace. Not that I was too keen on taking Grace out if it was too wet. I didn’t really sign up to the old wives’ tale that you would catch a cold through getting wet, but it didn’t seem sensible to expose a baby to such harsh elements. The umbrellas I thought would be downright dangerous – umbrellas, strong winds and a cliff side location weren’t a good mix. But I’d packed them anyway, in case we needed them en route.

  ‘We’re making good time,’ James noted, as we cruised down the motorway at a constant sixty five. The weather was still bright and dry, with the wet and windy conditions only due to hit our destination during the early hours. I still hoped the forecast might change again, giving us a reprieve. Grace was asleep in the backward facing car seat, and I was sitting next to her. She’d lasted just ten minutes before closing her eyes – the roll of the car and noise of the engine was much more effective at inducing sleep than our stories had ever been. We’d actually resorted to taking Grace out at night for a drive once or twice, when getting her to sleep the natural way had proved impossible. But we’d resisted that becoming a routine, as it did with some couples, as it was just storing trouble up for later.