Dead Man at the Door

by Anthony Masters

  He went into the yard to see if there was any petrol. There wasn’t, of course, not after Ted’s earlier attempt. He would have to take Dad’s key off the mantelpiece and creep into the shed. Gary was just about to tiptoe into the house when he glimpsed the steel shutter moving. It slid noiselessly upwards to reveal a familiar figure standing outside. But this time his form was more pronounced: apart from a slightly shadowy outline it was more solid than it had ever been. For once the eyes were quite normal and there was nothing threatening about him at all.

  ‘Gary.’ His voice was a thin whisper.

  ‘What do you want?’ asked Gary gently.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Slowly Gary walked towards James. His clothes were no longer wet and his hands were hanging loosely by his sides. ‘I’m burning the garage down,’ Gary said quietly when he reached James.

  ‘No.’

  ‘It’ll put an end to all this.’

  ‘There is an end.’

  ‘Yes, you’re taking Ted away.’

  ‘You don’t understand. I just want to see him. Speak to him.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m his brother.’

  ‘Who?’ Gary was amazed, and a creeping chill of horror began to permeate his very being.

  ‘His brother. I have to see him.’

  ‘To take him away?’

  ‘No – to reach him – just to reach him.’

  ‘You’ve reached him. You were playing with Ted on the beach.’

  ‘That’s what might have been. Don’t you understand? You were looking through the Watchers’ eyes’ Suddenly his body shimmered and faded. ‘I’m losing power. The Watchers are closing the gap. They never wanted me to use their energy – they only let me through by chance.’

  ‘How was that?’ demanded Gary. ‘How could it happen?’

  ‘My need to get back was so great. I don’t think they had ever experienced anything so powerful before. Now they’re very afraid.’

  ‘What of?’

  ‘Of my assuming human form for too long.’

  ‘Is that possible?’

  ‘I don’t know. But if I could speak with him – touch him now –’ The warm brown eyes flickered and turned white. The outline of his body trembled.

  ‘I don’t trust you. You want to harm Ted – take him away.’

  ‘I give you my word.’

  ‘I can’t trust you,’ Gary repeated stubbornly.

  ‘Please, Gary.’ The static was returning now. ‘Please.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Take my hand.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Take my hand.’

  Reluctantly, Gary stretched out his hand; as with the Watchers, he felt a warm glow spread through him.

  ‘He’s alone. Please bring him to me. You have to trust me, Gary. I only want to let him know I existed once and that I shall never harm him.’

  ‘I don’t know where he is.’

  ‘He’s up on the headland – out of dream-time.’

  Gary hesitated, turned and ran out of the garage, through the yard and back into the street. A whisper went with him – and stayed with him. ‘Please hurry. I haven’t got much time. The Watchers are closing the gap. Please hurry. Please hurry. Hurry.’ Then he began to head for the cliff. As he dashed down the side-streets he knew that he was still in reality – and that James’s spirit had stepped yet again out of dream-time. What gave him so much strength? To appear in dream-time and to break out of dream-time; to use the Watchers’ energy by force. Although they were bringing him back, that strength must have been enormous. Could it be love? wondered Gary in sudden hope. James’s voice inside him told him that it was. But could he trust him? He still didn’t really know.

  Ted was sitting alone, staring into the sighing tide as it gradually withdrew from the darkened shore.

  ‘Ted.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Dream-time’s over.’

  ‘I thought as much,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t remember coming up here.’

  ‘You were with the Watchers. I spoke to them.’

  ‘Yes?’ He sounded calm, thoughtful.

  ‘I was going to burn the garage down – like you tried to.’

  ‘And will you?’

  ‘He wants to see you. James wants to see you. He says he’s your brother, but he’s fading out.’

  Ted rose to his feet quickly. ‘I don’t know why he says he’s my brother. I’ve never had a brother. But I’ve been with him in dream-time – doing all the things we might have done together. I felt he loved me so much. It’s weird, but I know he wouldn’t hurt me. Not for anything.’

  ‘James might not be your brother. He could be evil; he could harm you.’

  ‘I’m going to take that risk,’ said Ted quietly, ‘and no one’s going to stop me. If I don’t take the risk now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.’

  ‘I’ll stand by you,’ said Gary fiercely. ‘I won’t let him hurt you.’

  ‘There’s nothing you can do.’ Ted put his arm round Gary’s shoulder. ‘James has separated us before, don’t you remember?’

  ‘When he got the chance.’

  ‘He takes any chance.’

  ‘I’m still coming with you.’

  ‘Don’t let’s think about it any more. Just let’s go,’ said Ted.

  They ran all the way back from the headland towards the town with the night wind blowing gently in their faces and a thin crescent moon riding high above the scudding clouds. Gradually a tremendous excitement grew in Gary’s mind and he ran lightly, almost as if he was in dream-time, although he knew his feet were still touching the ground. He looked up at the stars. We’re in touch with a spirit, he thought. Up the back-streets they ran, through the yard and up to the back door of the garage and into the dark, quiet space.

  ‘James?’ whispered Ted.

  ‘There’s no one here.’ Gary was bitterly disappointed.

  ‘There is. Look.’

  Just a pale shadow against the wall – all that remained of James’s indomitable spirit.

  ‘James.’

  But there was no reply.

  ‘James.’ Ted dashed towards the wall, and as he approached it the shadow grew stronger, fortified by his appearance.

  ‘Ted?’ The voice was tiny, as if coming from somewhere far away. Gary watched them embrace – and yet they didn’t, for all Ted held was a shadow.

  ‘James.’

  ‘I never wanted to harm you. Only make you understand. It was my fault – I was completely drunk. I drowned Susan. You only escaped by a miracle. And it was a miracle, Ted. I wanted to come back and see you – reach you. Out of dream-time.’ But the voice was feather-light, barely distinguishable as James’s wraith slipped out of his brother’s arms, almost blown to the door like thistle-down.

  ‘Where are you going?’ asked Ted, the tears pouring down his cheeks.

  ‘Down to the sea.’

  ‘Will you come back?’

  ‘No, Ted.’

  ‘Say goodbye,’ he pleaded.

  ‘Goodbye –’ The whisper of a voice seemed to be sucked away as he vanished into the street.

  The boys walked to the steel shutter and watched the shadow flutter down the road in the moonlight – towards the sea. Gary thought he saw the leather jacket fly like a cape. Then there was nothing at all.

  Thirteen

  Gary looked at his watch. It was almost one o’clock in the morning, but it seemed their strange night adventure had lasted for weeks.

  ‘We’ll creep up to bed.’ He took Ted’s arm as he stood rigidly outside the steel shutter, watching an old chip carton blow down the road in the light night wind. Everything was grey except for a slight white flush in the sky. An owl hooted briefly – and then was silent.

  ‘Come on,’ Gary insisted, and eventually Ted allowed himself to be led through Jackson’s Garage and into the house. They climbed the stairs very quietly and then lay back on their beds.

  ‘No mor
e dream-time,’ said Gary quietly.

  ‘There might be,’ replied Ted hopefully.

  Gary shook his head. ‘He’d be breaking his word.’

  ‘Maybe he will.’ Ted was reluctant.

  ‘He won’t have the power.’

  ‘It could build up.’ Ted’s voice was slowly losing conviction.

  ‘And anyway the Watchers will never let him through. Not again.’

  ‘He could slip through – I think he’s pretty cunning.’ Ted was wistful now.

  ‘What did you think of him?’ asked Gary.

  ‘I thought he was – I like my brother very much,’ he said rather formally. ‘I’ll always think of him,’ Ted finished in a rush.

  ‘Why didn’t your parents tell you about him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘That girl in the car with him. She was a friend, I s’pose.’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Are you going – to tell your parents?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ted very firmly. ‘I want to know everything about him. But, Gary – will you do me a favour?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Come back with me tomorrow. Help me to explain it all to them.’

  ‘They might not want to talk about him while I’m there.’ Gary was doubtful.

  ‘Please.’

  ‘But why do you want me?’

  ‘You’ve shared it – you’ve seen him. I don’t want them to think I made it all up.’

  ‘All right then.’ Gary wasn’t really convinced.

  ‘We’ll go tomorrow. First thing.’ Ted was very insistent.

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Funny –’

  ‘Funny?’

  ‘I can see him now.’ Ted turned over on his side. ‘I could dream about him, you know. I could bring him into my dream-time.’ Then he said, ‘The garage is all right now, isn’t it? No one needs to burn it down.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gary quietly. ‘It’s all right now.’

  In a few seconds they were both asleep.

  Both Ted and Gary were so exhausted that neither of them woke till after eleven. When they did, Gary asked the obvious question.

  ‘Did you see him?’

  ‘I think I made him up,’ Ted replied. ‘But it was better than nothing. What about you?’

  ‘I didn’t dream of anything – or anybody,’ Gary said flatly.

  They had breakfast quietly. Gary’s father was in the shop and only his mother was there. She was quiet and tactful – Gary knew that he would always be grateful to her for that. They both ate ravenously and it was only when they had finished that she asked softly, ‘Are you ready to go home now, Ted?’

  ‘Yes – thanks.’

  ‘I’ve already spoken to your parents this morning.’

  ‘Are they OK?’

  ‘They’re fine. Just looking forward to seeing you at home – safe and sound. Your sister sends her love, too.’

  ‘I want Gary to come with me. Is that all right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine. I’ll let you go together then,’ she said with a smile. ‘By the way, the new builders are coming in today, Gary. They’ve said they’re going to work fast.’

  ‘That’s what they all say.’ Gary grinned.

  ‘No doubt they’ll give your father an opportunity to use his famous phrase.’

  ‘These Islanders,’ they both chorused and then looked embarrassed in front of Ted.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘We are different.’

  You bet you are, said Gary to himself.

  As they crossed the headland, they met Esmé. There was no wind, the sun was high in the sky and the sea was calm, licking at the pebbles, like some great slumbering beast.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she said. ‘What’s been happening?’

  ‘We got ourselves a brother,’ replied Ted. ‘Isn’t it great?’

  ‘Is it?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s nice.’

  ‘Is he – the young man with the wet clothes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Was he a ghost?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Will he come back?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How do you know he’s our brother?’ she asked impatiently.

  ‘He told me.’

  ‘And you believed him?’

  ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘I’ve got about a million questions to ask,’ she protested as Ted walked on. ‘Don’t go home yet.’

  ‘We’ve all got something to share,’ he said. ‘All of us.’

  Gary stole a glance down at the glinting sea. A gull flew low across the calm surface and then soared high above them on the headland.

  *

  At first the Robertses were awkward and strained as they sat round the big kitchen table. Mrs Roberts was silent and reproachful while Mr Roberts blustered slightly. It was Esmé who swept all the stiffness away. She was so curious that she could hardly contain herself.

  ‘Come on, Ted,’ she said. ‘Give it to us.’

  ‘You owe us an explanation.’ Mr Roberts’ face had none of its usual sensitivity. He looked exhausted and quite fierce. Is it because I’m here, wondered Gary. It probably was and suddenly he wished he had not agreed to come at all.

  But when Ted began to speak everyone was riveted, including Gary, for Ted started with the disturbing dreams and went on to explain how, when he first met Gary, he was originally threatening because he was terrified of the fact that he was sharing the dream. As Ted wove the facts together, Gary admired him for his conciseness and the very moving way he spoke. When he had finished, there was a very long silence, broken predictably by Esmé.

  ‘Well?’ she demanded. ‘Do we have a brother or not?’

  Her question changed the mood and Mrs Roberts began to cry. Mr Roberts’ eyes were filled with tears too but he dabbed them away absent-mindedly with a dirty cloth he used for his paintbrushes.

  ‘We were elderly parents for you, Ted – and Esmé. We’re in our fifties now.’

  ‘I thought you just didn’t have us till late,’ said Ted softly.

  ‘We didn’t – and we love you dearly,’ replied his mother. ‘But something happened – soon after you were born. We’ve never talked about it –’ Her voice broke and then she recovered with some difficulty. ‘I suppose you’ll condemn us but we wanted to shut it out of our lives. We’ve never been able to talk about what happened, not even between ourselves. And we’ve gone out of our way to make sure that you were both guarded against the horror and misery of it all.’

  ‘Do you believe me?’ asked Ted quietly.

  His father shrugged. ‘I don’t know what to believe, old son. I’m really sorry you’ve suffered like this – and I’m sorry about you too, Gary. It’s obviously brought you very close together.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Gary. ‘It has.’

  ‘Tell us what happened, Dad, please. It won’t harm us, and we really must know now.’ Esmé sounded desperate.

  Mr Roberts looked across at his wife. ‘I think they’ve seen James, don’t you? God knows how.’

  She nodded. ‘It must be him.’

  ‘Shall I tell it?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘Let me. I need to. I’m going to make it very brief, but obviously if anyone wants to ask me or Dad anything else we’ll be ready – and willing – to answer you. Is that all right?’

  They all nodded.

  ‘We married young – and had a baby very quickly. James.’

  Although they had expected it, Ted started and a chill shot through Gary.

  ‘We loved him dearly, but James had difficulties. He was a slow learner, clumsy, no good at sport. Maybe we showed our disappointment, anyway James became more and more wild, not bad-tempered – but wild. What you would call a yobbo. When he left school he just kicked about at home. But we still spoilt him; we were even stupid enough to get him a car when he was old enough to drive – anything to get rid of his motor bike, we thought.’ Her voice died away. Then she continued with an effo
rt. ‘You weren’t a mistake, Ted. We were still just young enough to have more children and your father and I planned to start another family. James wasn’t jealous or anything when you came along; he loved to show you off. He still hadn’t settled down at all and seemed to get wilder and wilder. But he loved you so. One night he was meant to be babysitting while we went to the cinema. Instead he took you, put you in the car and drove over to show you off to his latest girl-friend. He took you both out for a drive, then – because he’d been drinking – lost control of the car, and went into the sea.’ Mrs Roberts began to cry again and Ted and Esmé rushed to comfort her. Mr Roberts sat silently on his own on the other side of the table.

  Gary had been longing to ask the question that had always nagged at him and at last he seized his opportunity.

  ‘How was Ted saved?’ he said quietly.

  Mr Roberts spoke slowly and the others turned to listen. ‘It was a miracle. A real miracle. He was trapped in an air pocket in the car. The impact loosened the partition that sealed off the boot and Ted rolled into it as the car went over the railing. Then when the rear came up, he got wedged – thank God. No one knew where he was and at first we thought he had been tipped into the sea. When the police told us what had happened we thought we’d lost both our children at one stroke. It was only when they phoned back later to say Ted had been found by a mechanic who heard cries coming from the wreck of the car, that we knew the real miracle had occurred – and you, Ted, were completely unharmed.’ His voice faltered, too full of emotion to continue. Then he began to speak again, but much more haltingly. ‘Your survival helped us through our grief. If you hadn’t lived, I don’t think we’d have ever got through it. And then the following year we had Esmé. We should have told you about James. We really should have done. But for years we couldn’t even bear to utter his name.’