‘We’re only going to New Milford,’ said Jessica.
‘I’ll come,’ enthused Epiphany.
‘You have your math homework to finish,’ Grace told her.
‘Oh please, Mom, I can do my homework later.’
‘When you’re watching TV?’
‘I’ll do it, Mom, I promise you.’
‘OK then. But make sure you’re back in time for lunch.’
The four of them stepped out into a soundless world of whirling white. Jessica introduced Epiphany to Renko and Elica and then swore her to secrecy.
‘So what’s so secret?’
‘We went through the wallpaper.’
‘Come on, you’re kidding me.’
‘We went through the wallpaper, it’s true. There’s a whole different world in there. I promise you, we’re not making it up.’
‘You’re not kidding me? You really went? There’s a world there, really? You got to be kidding me.’
‘God’s-honest truth,’ Renko assured her. ‘I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t done it.’
‘Well, I saw what Mrs Crawford did with that waterlily on her carpet …’
Jessica told her all about Phoebe and the Stain. ‘It’s all real, Piff, I swear it. That’s why we’re going to New Milford, to make sure that Dr Leeming can cure Phoebe and her brothers and sisters if we bring them out of there.’
‘And this Stain? What exactly is that?’
‘We’re not sure. But everybody seems to think it’s the worst possible thing in the world.’
‘You mean there’s something worse than men?’
‘Hey,’ said Renko.
‘You’re excused,’ Epiphany told him. ‘You’re not your typical macho stuff-strutting bigot.’
‘Well thanks.’
They passed Mrs Crawford’s house, almost buried under a deep mantle of snow, with only a single light in the living-room window to show that there was anybody home. Then they crossed the road to Allen’s Corners Cemetery. ‘We might as well go through here,’ Jessica suggested. ‘It’s much quicker, and my toes are getting seriously cold.’
They opened the cast-iron gates and walked along an avenue of black granite tombstones and pale limestone angels with lifted wings. ‘I think I’d rather be cremated when I die,’ said Epiphany. ‘At least it’ll be warm.’
They had almost reached the other side of the cemetery when Jessica stopped and pointed. ‘Look at that. One of the roses said that I’d find the children’s names where the gray woman in the green cloak stands and weeps.’
Close to the wall stood an angel with her head bowed and her wings folded. She must have been facing north, because over the years a thick cloak of moss had gathered on her back.
Jessica went over to the angel and brushed the flecks of snow off her plinth. The inscription on it read IN MEMORY OF THE PENNINGTON CHILDREN, TAKEN AWAYFROM US JULY 24TH 1937, MARTIN, MARGARET, DAVID, JOEL AND PHOEBE. MAY THE ANGELS TAKE GOOD CARE OF THEM.
‘So the children in the wall are the Pennington children,’ said Epiphany. ‘When they got sick their parents must have taken them into the wallpaper to save their lives … keeping them there till somebody found a cure.’
‘But how would they have known how to do that?’ asked Renko.
‘Don’t you remember?’ cried Jessica. ‘When she was sick, Mrs Crawford met the children’s grandmother, Mrs Fellowes, behind the wallpaper. Mrs Fellowes gave Mrs Crawford her sapphire ring, so that she could take it to Mrs Pennington to prove that she was really there. Maybe Mrs Pennington didn’t believe her. You remember that Mrs Crawford said that she was really, really angry. But when her five children all got sick with the spotted fever, she probably decided that it was worth trying anything to keep them alive.’
‘And you hear what Phoebe say,’ put in Elica. ‘Her parents come again and again through the wallpaper with medicine, but none of medicine is working. Then they don’t come anymore.’
‘Poor Mrs Fellowes,’ said Jessica. ‘She died without knowing that her grandchildren are all still alive … and so close to her, through the gate by the stained-glass cottage.’
‘This gets weirder and weirder,’ said Epiphany.
‘I know, but if you come with us next time we go through the wallpaper, you’ll see that it makes some kind of peculiar sense. There’s a pattern to it. It’s, like, wallpaper patterns keep on repeating themselves, over and over, and I guess that’s what happens in the world behind the wallpaper. Every day repeats itself, so that if you’re sick you don’t get better but you never get sicker. You never get older, either. You’re just the same, forever and ever.’
They crossed the blinding-white snow-covered green in the middle of New Milford and went through the open gate into Dr Leeming’s single-story clinic. There was only one person waiting to see the doctor, old Mr Steinberg from the hardware store, with his usual disgusting cough, so it wasn’t long before Dr Leeming called them in to see him.
‘Well, Jessica, and what brings you out on a horrible cold day like today?’
‘I just wanted to make sure that you had some doxycycline.’
‘Doxycycline? Yes, as a matter of fact I do.’
‘Enough for five people?’
Dr Leeming cocked his head on one side, smiling at Jessica quizzically. ‘Five people suffering from what, exactly?’
‘Nothing in particular. I just wanted to know if you had any.’
‘Doxycycline is one of the tetracyclines. We use it to kill off a whole range of bacteria, as well as some of the rickettsia, which are halfway between bacteria and viruses. We use it against viruses, too, like psittacosis, which you can catch from parrots. You don’t know five people who have been pecked by parrots, do you?’
‘Oh, no, nothing like that.’
Dr Leeming waited for her to say something else, but now that he had told her everything she needed to know all she could do was give him an inane smile.
‘You’re not sick in any way yourself?’
‘Oh, no, I’m fine.’
His receptionist knocked and came in, and he looked beyond her through the open door to the waiting-room. ‘And none of your friends is sick?’
‘No, they’re great.’
‘All right, then,’ said Dr Leeming. ‘Unless there’s anything else, I have some house-calls to make.’
‘Oh … what time will you be back?’
‘Around five, I guess, depending on the weather. Why?’
‘No reason, really. Maybe I’ll see you later.’
‘I hope not. Especially not if you’re suffering from anything that needs treatment with doxycycline!’
The four of them left the surgery and headed back toward home. It was snowing even more furiously now, as if even the weather could sense that something frightening was about to happen.
Angel of Mercy
They walked back through the cemetery. Alone in the snow, the angel that watched over the Pennington children’s monument looked even sadder and more abandoned than ever.
‘I’m freezing,’ complained Epiphany. ‘I’m going to run.’
‘You go ahead then,’ said Jessica. ‘Ask my granny if she could have a hot drink ready for us. She makes lovely hot chocolate with cocoa powder on it.’
Epiphany went jogging on in front of them, kicking up snow as she ran. Jessica, Renko and Elica stayed together. They were all too tired to run, and still upset by what had happened to Mrs Fellowes, and Jessica’s ankle was very sore.
‘What if we can’t get the children out of the wallpaper until after the doctor’s surgery closes?’ asked Renko.
‘I know where Dr Leeming lives. We can take them there.’
‘They will be need shoes, and coats,’ Elica pointed out.
‘I think I’ve got enough,’ said Jessica. ‘And if the older boys are too big, they can borrow Grandpa Willy’s shoes.’
Epiphany had reached the cemetery gates. She turned and waved, then went running off across the road.
Jessica saw it as if it were a dream. A large black car appeared through the whirling snow, its headlights gleaming. The driver was going far too fast, and he didn’t see Epiphany until it was too late. Even from this distance, Jessica heard a dull thump, and Epiphany flew up into the air as if performing an amazing high-jump. Then she dropped to the ground and rolled over as the car went speeding off into the storm without stopping.
‘Piff!’ screamed Jessica. Renko and Elica went running off toward the gates, while Jessica limped after them as fast as she could.
When they reached her, Epiphany was lying on her back in the snow, her arms spread wide, her left leg awkwardly folded under her right. There was a wide graze on her forehead and her eyes were closed.
Jessica knelt down beside her and took hold of her hand. ‘Piff! Can you hear me? Piff, are you all right? Please open your eyes, please!’
Renko leaned right over her. ‘She’s still breathing, but she sounds like she’s having trouble.’
At that moment, a thin runnel of red blood welled up in the side of Epiphany’s mouth and slid down onto the snow.
‘I think her ribs could be broken,’ said Renko. ‘Maybe she’s punctured a lung.’
He unbuttoned his coat, took out his cellphone and dialed 911. He listened, shook the phone, and then he said, ‘Nothing. No signal at all.’
‘Try it again,’ Jessica urged him. ‘If she’s punctured a lung, she could suffocate.’
Renko tried switching his phone off and then back on again, but there was still no signal.
‘What do we do?’ asked Elica, desperately. ‘There is no cars, nobody coming.’
‘Run to Mrs Crawford’s house,’ said Jessica. ‘Knock on her door and tell her what’s happened. Maybe her phone’s working.’
Elica got up and ran as fast as she could through Mrs Crawford’s snowbound garden. Jessica could hear her banging frantically at the doorknocker. Meanwhile Epiphany coughed and more blood poured out of the side of her mouth.
‘Hold on, Piff. Elica’s gone for help. Please hold on.’
She saw Mrs Crawford opening her front door and Elica explaining what had happened. Mrs Crawford went back inside for a while and then she reappeared wearing a black overcoat and a ratty fur hat and carrying a fawn trenchcoat over her arm. She and Elica came hurrying over.
‘Oh dear God,’ she said when she saw Epiphany. ‘And the car didn’t even stop? Some people are totally inhuman.’
‘What are we going to do?’ asked Jessica. ‘Renko’s phone won’t work and there’s nobody around anywhere at all.’
‘My phone won’t work either,’ said Mrs Crawford. ‘You’re not supposed to move people after accidents, especially when they’re bleeding, but I don’t think we have any choice, do you? We can carry her in this raincoat, that should make a sort of a stretcher. Renko – is that your name? – do you know where Dr Leeming’s surgery is? Run and get him as fast as you can.’
‘We’ve just come from there,’ Jessica told her. ‘He’s out making house-calls.’
Epiphany coughed again, and groaned, but she still didn’t open her eyes. Mrs Crawford took hold of her wrist and felt her pulse. ‘Very thready. She needs help now.’
‘She will not die?’ asked Elica.
‘I think she’s been hurt quite badly.’
‘We can’t let her die,’ said Jessica. ‘We can’t!’
Mrs Crawford put her hand over her mouth and thought for a moment, and then she said, ‘There’s only one thing we can do. We’ll take her back to your house, and we’ll take her through the wallpaper.’
‘What?’ said Renko.
‘It won’t cure her, but she won’t get any worse, and she can stay there until we can call for an ambulance.’
‘This is nuts.’
‘Yes, maybe it is, but do you have a better idea?’
Renko frowned. ‘Well … no, I guess I don’t.’
‘Let’s get on with it, then. Jessica, if I lift her up a little, can you slide the raincoat underneath her … and then Renko and Elica, can you pull it through from the other side?’
Mrs Crawford took Epiphany in both arms and raised her as gently as if she were her own baby. Jessica pushed the raincoat underneath her back, and when Mrs Crawford tilted Epiphany the other way Renko and Elica were able to drag it through. Now Mrs Crawford and Renko took an epaulet each, while Jessica and Elica held onto the coat-tails, and between them they were able to lift Epiphany off the snow and carry her, like an African explorer being toted through the bush by native bearers.
Epiphany was only a skinny girl, but as they trudged along the road toward Jessica’s house she felt heavier and heavier, and Jessica had to twist the raincoat and grip it with both hands to stop herself from dropping it.
‘What are you going to tell Piff’s mother?’ Renko panted. ‘She’s not going to let you take Piff into the wallpaper, is she? And I don’t suppose your grandparents are going to be too understanding about it either.’
‘I’ve thought about that,’ said Jessica. ‘We’ll go in the back door and up the servants’ stairs. Grace should still be in the kitchen, and Grannie and Grandpa Willy usually have a cup of coffee in the living-room about now.’
‘I’m going to have to lay her down for a moment,’ said Mrs Crawford. ‘I’m not a spring chicken anymore.’
They had reached the gate that would take them through the garden and up to the back door. Mrs Crawford leaned against the gatepost, her face white but her cheeks flushed with pink, and a drip on the end of her nose. She wiped the drip with her woolly glove and then she said, ‘All right. I think I can make one more effort.’
Between them they lifted Epiphany up again and carried her across the garden. The snow came up to their knees, so they had to high-step like circus ponies. In the middle of the garden the statue of Pan watched them and grinned. The god of unreasonable fear, the god of panic. Jessica thought: We can’t panic, we have to be calm. We can’t let Epiphany die.
They opened the back door and carried Epiphany into the black-and-white-tiled scullery, where Grannie kept her old-fashioned twin-tub washing-machine, and sheets and pillowcases hung damply from the ceiling to dry. After she had closed the door behind them, Jessica listened, but all she could hear was Grace singing in the kitchen.
‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘As quick as we can.’
Climbing the staircase was almost more than they could manage, and twice Mrs Crawford lost her footing and nearly fell. What was more, the staircase groaned loudly with every step they took, and the door to the living-room was half open, so Jessica expected her granny to appear any moment and ask them what on earth they were doing.
Epiphany murmured something as they turned the bend in the stairs, and half lifted her hand, but there was nothing Jessica could do to comfort her: it was all that she could do to hold onto the raincoat.
At last they managed to reach the landing and shuffle across to Jessica’s bedroom. Renko pushed the door open with his shoulder, and they carried Epiphany inside and laid her on the bed.
‘She looks bad,’ said Mrs Crawford. Epiphany’s face was an ashy gray and she was breathing with a choky catch in her throat. ‘Try your cellphone again, Renko – and Jessica, try the ordinary phone.’
Renko prodded at his cellphone again, listened and shook his head. Jessica tiptoed to her grandparents’ bedroom and picked up the old white telephone on the nightstand, but there was still nothing but an endless sizzle, like somebody frying bacon.
She came back to her bedroom and said, ‘The lines are still down. I won’t be able to send an e-mail, either. We’ll have to take her through.’
‘What about the Stain?’ asked Renko. ‘It’s supposed to leak out at eleven o’clock tonight.’
‘That’s not for hours. The phones will be working before then. Just as long as we can keep Piff comfortable until we can call the paramedics.’
‘The Stain?’ said Mrs Crawford. ‘What’s that?’
�
��There were these beings behind the wallpaper,’ Jessica explained. ‘They were like very bright lights. They called themselves the Light People. They said that there’s something terrible called the Stain which is going to leak out tonight and take over the whole world inside the wall. They said it’s the worst thing in the world, the worst thing you could ever imagine.’
‘Well, I did warn you, didn’t I, that there are all kinds of dangers inside the wall?’
Elica began to say, ‘Yes, we saw cats – cats like shadows—’ But Jessica gave her a quick warning look and shook her head. This wasn’t the time to be telling Mrs Crawford about what had happened to Mrs Fellowes.
Mrs Crawford said, ‘Now then, let’s get this poor girl into the pattern, without any more delay.’
Between them, they lifted up the raincoat again, and carried Epiphany toward the flowery wallpaper. Jessica and Renko pushed through first, and Elica and Mrs Crawford followed. There was a moment when Epiphany was half in and half out of the wall, and Jessica could only dimly see Elica and Mrs Crawford in the bedroom they had left behind. Then they were all standing in the overgrown garden, in brilliant sunshine, under high white clouds that were formed from crumpled pillowcases.
They laid Epiphany down on the lawn, amongst the daisies. She seemed to be sleeping now, and the bleeding from her mouth appeared to have stopped, although Jessica was still worried that she might have been injured internally. At least she wouldn’t get any worse, not while she was here inside the wallpaper.
‘Maybe we should put her in the shade,’ Renko suggested. ‘Under that tree would be a good place.’
But they were just about to pick her up when five or six tall blue irises came walking toward them through the long grass, swaying gently as they approached, like very thin nuns. Like the roses’, their petals formed faces, although these weren’t crumpled and cantankerous like the roses were. They were serene, detached, as you would expect the faces of nuns to be, the Sisters of the Holy Flag.
‘Your friend is hurt,’ said one of the irises, in a watery, clearly enunciated voice.
The Hidden World Page 12