by James Erith
Serena Strutt shook her head. ‘Sue, what a truly astonishing story and, of course, our thoughts are with Gus. Is there anything else you’d like to say?’
Sue looked down at her feet as if trying to rein in her emotions. Then, very slowly and as the camera zoomed in on her face, she looked directly into the lens and very sadly said. ‘Infected now,’ before adding, ‘lush.’
For a second, Serena looked confused, but being a professional she draped an arm around the girl. ‘Thank you Sue – I know this is a very emotional time, and we really do wish Gus a speedy recovery. Back to you in the studio.’
THE SENSE of relief in the kitchen was extraordinary. But while Archie and Daisy danced around, Isabella sat down at the kitchen table with a pen and paper. She was instantly struck by the oddness of Sue’s response. Sue never, ever used words like “lush”. That was a Daisy kind of word. Not a Sue word.
Daisy pulled a chair up. ‘What’s up, sis? Thought you be jumping over the moon.’
Isabella shook her head. ‘Inside, I am, believe me. But there’s something wrong, that sentence wasn’t right in any way.’
‘Know what you mean,’ Daisy said. ‘Sounded like something she’d planned, if you ask me.’
Isabella pushed the pencil through the hole in her hand and spun it round. ‘Yes. You’re right. But what did it mean? I thought “lush” meant, kind of cool.’
‘Yeah, that’s right. Gorgeous – lush.’
Isabella twiddled her hand in the air, the pencil making a strange starry shadow on the paper. ‘Maybe you’re right. Perhaps she had planned it.’ Isabella wrote down the sentence on the paper and looked at it.
She rearranged the letters in a circle and tried to see if there was a pattern or some obvious code. As she pondered the letters she asked: ‘Is Old Man Wood alright? It might be an idea to check on him.’
Archie slipped out of the kitchen and returned a couple of minutes later. ‘He’s wandering around with his hair sticking out on end. I think he’s, sort of, OK.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, while you were singing that hummy song, a weird object came out of the fire—’
‘Holy moly! I think I’ve got it,’ Isabella exclaimed, ignoring him.
Daisy and Archie crowded round.
‘Look. Take the word, ‘Infected’. In it is the word, ‘find’. She crossed out the letters. Now what’s left? ‘The’. She crossed that out as well.
They stared at the paper. Daisy clapped her hands. ‘Look – the word, ‘uncle’.’
‘Excellent,’ Isabella said, surprised by her sister’s grasp. ‘Which leaves’, she continued, ‘S, O, W.’
‘Find the uncle sow,’ Archie said, ‘or, ‘wos’. You think she means Old Man Wood?’
‘Possibly,’ Isabella replied, pulling the pen in and out of her hand-hole. ‘But it’s not like her to make a glaring error like that. She knows perfectly well what his name is. Hang on, what if it’s ‘clown’ and then you’ve got, E, U, S.’
‘Sue.’ Daisy said. ‘That’s it! Find the clown, Sue.’
Isabella shook her head. ‘No. It just doesn’t stack up.’ She stood up and began pacing the room. ‘I mean what could she possibly be referring to?’
Daisy sat down and played with the letters, her eyes glowing, a gentle pink light forming over the paper.
She rearranged the final letters and clapped her hands.
Isabella ran over. She studied the paper, squeezed Daisy’s shoulders and took a deep breath.
‘Archie,’ she ordered, ‘make another cup of tea for Old Man Wood, exactly like before.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes! Just do it, now!’
‘God. OK – why? You saw what happened to him. He’ll go properly bonkers.’
‘Sue’s message.’
Archie skipped over and read it out loud.
‘FIND THE CLUES, NOW.’
EIGHTY-ONE
RUM TEA
‘What were you saying about the fire, Archie?’ Isabella asked.
Archie grabbed the bottle of rum and poured in a generous measure. ‘Oh, yeah. An object appeared to be coming out of it,’ he said, ‘but when Daisy and Old Man Wood stopped singing, it retreated.’
‘Have you finished with that?’ Isabella asked, sniffing the tea. ‘It smells gross.’
‘Not quite, it needs some sugar to sweeten it up,’ Archie said. ‘Pass it over.’
Daisy picked up the sugar bowl, took a long, hard look inside and handed it over. ‘Are you sure that’s sugar?’ she said.
‘It was the last time I looked.’
Daisy shuffled on the spot. ‘Just curious. Looks like something else, bit weird, that’s all. Sounds like it’s wailing.’
‘Wailing?’
‘Yup – like it’s crying.’
Archie heaped a couple of teaspoons into the cup and stirred it round. Daisy peered into it and shook her head. ‘What is sugar, anyway?’ she said. ‘Is it, mushroomy?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Daisy.’ Isabella said. ‘Now is not the time to start learning about sugar and mushrooms. Now,’ she said, addressing the twins, ‘here is the plan.’
JUST AS THEY were about to head back into the sitting room with the tea, Daisy’s ears tuned into the TV. She turned and faced the screen.
Commissioner Stone was thanking the various officers around him and trying to placate viewers that the nation shouldn’t be too worried. He sounded confident. ‘One final thing,’ he said, a crooked smile crossing his face, ‘we now know that the epicentre of the storm centred on the small moor-side village of Upsall.’
‘Archie, Bells,’ Daisy called out. ‘You dudes should watch this.’
The Commissioner continued as Archie and Isabella returned through the door. ‘We’d particularly like to speak to anyone who was in the area of Upsall the day the storm broke. We know that most were tragically lost and almost certainly swept away, like the brave Gus Williams and Sue Lowden who we heard from earlier.’ Another camera homed in on the lean, moustachioed face of Commissioner Stone. Clumsily, Stone turned towards it.
‘There is one family we know of, whose three children were on the football pitch at that time. There’s little doubt the water took them, but if anyone has seen or heard from any of them, particularly this young man on your screen now, Archie de Lowe, then please get in touch with your local authority representative.’
A picture of Archie, a couple of years younger, filled the screen.
Archie put the tea down on the table. ‘Jeez,’ he said. ‘Why me?’
‘Who is the only person,’ Isabella said, ‘who they know, who knows you?’
Archie squinted. He could feel his hair hardening.
‘Kemp. That’s who,’ Isabella said as she wheeled away. ‘You’re a fool Archie. I told you not to trust him.’
‘My God,’ said Daisy. ‘I forgot to tell you. You know when he said those words in the hospital—’
‘Dunno and, er … Algae, wasn’t it?’ Archie said.
‘Those exactly. I think he was trying to contact you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘For Algae, read, Archie,’ Daisy said. ‘And for Dunno, read—’
‘de Lowe,’ Archie finished.
They looked at each other. ‘Do you think he was trying to warn me?’
‘Almost certainly,’ Daisy said.
Isabella shrugged. ‘Looks like we’ll never know. But what we do know is that, because of him, they’re now hot on our case.’
THE NEWS that they were being searched for felt like a body blow to Archie. He’d slightly hoped that his first appearance on national television might be as goalkeeper for Leeds United, not as someone wanted by the authorities. What had Kemp said to the police? Had he spilled the beans and told them about Cain and the coat? Even if he had, though, they couldn’t possibly have believed him, could they? They’d have thought he’d lost his mind.
He sank down in his chair, trying not to worry about it, conscious that his hair was as har
d as steel, while his blood coursed through his veins. He had that angry feeling that pricked him every time he thought about Cain.
Daisy sat on the arm of Old Man Wood’s chair. ‘Tell us more about your song,’ she began. ‘It’s beautiful.’
Old Man Wood smiled a little drunkenly and sipped his tea. ‘I don’t know where it comes from,’ he said. ‘Reminds me of this whole other place. A time long ago. Feels apple-marvellous, though, doesn’t it?’
‘Teach it to us,’ said Isabella, who was sitting on his other side.
‘Really?’
‘Oh yes,’ the girls said at once, smiling sweetly.
‘Liked it, did you?’
‘Absolutely,’ Isabella lied.
Old Man Wood beamed. He couldn’t refuse smiles like these and, after taking another large swallow of tea he climbed out of his chair.
‘Whoooosh, swissshshhh, swissshy, swoosh,’ he began, his eyes closed in concentration, his arms pulling slowly around like a gentle breast-stoke motion.
The girls stood up and copied him. Daisy was immediately right on track with Old Man Wood, as if she absolutely understood it.
Isabella, on the other hand, found it rather embarrassing. Try as she might, the song and movements didn’t register.
The pace built up.
As before, the deep vibrations of Old Man Wood’s voice made the whole room tremble and, when the music reached its climax, a curious wind curled around them and through them and up their spines.
Archie crawled over to the fire and, as planned, began poking around, but his thoughts weren’t with the song, they were still fixed solely on Kemp and Cain and he hadn’t hummed or sung a word.
Nothing happened. No bright light emerged from the fire.
The children looked from one to the other and then back again, confused. Why hadn’t it worked? Had Archie lied?
‘Encore, encore – more, more!’ Isabella clapped as she danced over to Archie and whispered into his ear. ‘This time, Arch, you’ve got to sing it too. It’s all or nothing. Understand?’
As the lights failed and the noise of the generator departed, they heard only the sounds of their breathing and the distant cracks and rumbles of the storm overhead. Archie ran off and found the lamps Old Man Wood had used to highlight the rugs. He lit them, and positioned them either side of the room, where they cast a deep orange glow.
Old Man Wood’s face, now greatly accentuated by the soft rays, beamed from ear to ear.
Daisy, who hadn’t noticed Archie’s lack of vocal involvement, clapped encouragement. ‘That was utterly lush,’ she said, winking at Isabella. ‘Encore, encore, Old Man Wood. More, more!’
Old Man Wood remained standing, drained the rest of his tea and put the mug down with a clatter on the mantelpiece. He breathed in deeply and smacked his chest. ‘This time,’ he said, ‘you go a wee bit higher, girls. You’ll feel it in your blood. The song will take you there, if you believe in it.’
‘Can I start?’ Daisy said. ‘It’s so beautiful and moving. Rather like being in paradise.’
Old Man Wood’s booming laugh rebounded off the walls. ‘That’s exactly what it is. Clever littlun. Well of course you can. I’ll take it up as you begin.’
Daisy began. She closed her eyes and extended her arms. ‘Whoooosh, swishes, swiffy swissh whoooosh,’ she hummed.
Old Man Wood smiled. Even if the children didn’t have a clue what the song meant, it thrilled him that the song resonated well with them. He couldn’t think how it had come to him, but it reminded him of a time when things in his head weren’t quite so foggy, as if the song unlocked a hidden door to a room full of secrets.
He joined in, this time even more enthusiastically, whirring the strange noises in and out of his mouth and gesticulating, slowly at first, with his strong arms and hands, building up his movements as the song increased in tempo, so that before long it sounded exactly like wind rushing through leaves in a big tree.
Isabella stood up and shut her eyes. ‘Swiffy swissh whoooosh.’ Goosebumps ran up her back.
Archie, poker in hand, sensing the power of the song, stood up and began as well and in no time was consumed by the mesmeric, chanting tones.
Suddenly, from rather sad embers, the fire burst into life.
Isabella and Daisy, without even realising, raised the tune up an octave with the hummy, swishy and whooshy noises, and the momentum grew.
‘Swiffy, hummm swish sshshh. Swiffy swissh whoooosh, swissshshhh hmmm ...’ Louder and louder it grew, the four of them consumed by the music.
Old Man Wood suddenly took the piece to a whole new level, roaring the song out. Daisy and Isabella climbed an octave higher and as they did wind gushed over them like a tornado.
Archie opened his eyes. Old Man Wood’s hair stood fully erect on his head and his face had the look of a wild, sea-worn pirate; his ruddy complexion setting off his thick frown-lines, his face flickering in the firelight, his concentration intense. His dark eyes, unblinking, fixed stonily to a point on the wall as if he wasn’t looking at the wall at all; but looking back through time at another world.
The storm outside now crashed about the cottage. Rain lashed violently down onto the tiles of the old building and flashes of lightning illuminated the room as a massive crack of thunder shook the building.
Old Man Wood’s movements with his long arms now became more expansive, flailing around like a mad conductor who had lost control of his orchestra and was trying wildly to get them playing together.
‘Has anyone opened a window?’ Daisy shouted over the din, trembling a little in awe as wind started to whirl around her. But her voice was drowned out by the music and the bangs and cracks of thunder. She rejoined the singing. Suddenly an extended gust of wind picked up a bundle of papers and scattered them around the room, like confetti.
Now, noise, air and paper whirled wildly about as if a thousand ghosts had suddenly flown into the room at once. Every hair on the children’s bodies stood to attention as Old Man Wood stared crazily at the wall, his brow furrowed, his body upright and his face majestic.
As the song mellowed, bits of paper floated gently to floor.
Daisy and Isabella, soaked in sweat, looked over to Archie, lost amidst the muddle of paper and debris.
From out of nowhere they saw a fabulous smile spread across his face. And they could hardly believe what they saw; for in his hand was a tablet; a dusty, stone tablet which was very, very old. On the top, etched in gold, was the emblem of the Tree of Life – a tree with roots that joined with the branches, like a globe.
‘Oh my … oh my,’ Daisy cried. ‘Look! Bells! Look at Archie! It’s true! The tablets from the clue in that silly rhyme.’
They said it together:
‘THE FIRST YOU hid in the heart of the house
‘That warms you night and day
‘Get it out by poking me
‘And singing your favourite song along the way.’
ARCHIE THUMPED the air as they hugged. ‘One down, two to go, what a result! Old Man Wood, you aren’t so hopeless after all!’
They turned their attention back to the old man, but the combination of the song and Archie’s brew had got the better of Old Man Wood. He lay collapsed in his armchair, snoring heavily, sweat sheening his gnarled face, a few strands of hair still erect on his old head.
‘I hope he’s OK.’ Daisy said.
‘Sure he is,’ Isabella replied. ‘He just needs a good sleep, that’s all.’
EIGHTY-TWO
A NEW BELIEF
Golden brown in colour, hard as steel and inlaid with beautiful scrollwork, the tablet from the fire was roughly the size and weight of a small paperback book. As Archie touched it, a cosy tingle, like the warmth of love, enveloped him.
He traced the engraved surfaces, running his fingers along the lines of the symbol of the Tree of Life, its characteristic swirls mirrored up and down, and he noted that it was the same artwork as they had seen on the walls of the cave.
‘Look, guys,’ Isabella said as she handed it over to Archie. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Well, you should be thrilled to bits that Sue’s alive—’
‘And Gus,’ Daisy added. ‘He’s a hero.’
‘Yes, of course, Gus too,’ Isabella said, beaming. ‘But what I meant to say,’ and she stuttered, trying to find the right words, ‘what I really meant to say, was, thanks.’
‘Thanks? For what?’ Daisy replied.
‘For not believing a word I was talking about,’ Isabella said.
‘We never do, anyway,’ Daisy responded, raising her eyebrows. ‘Here, your turn, Bells.’ Daisy handed her the tablet and rose from the kitchen table.
Isabella pulled it to her lips. Like with Archie, a glow, a rush, a joyful sensation shot into her like a fizz of confidence that pushed her fear and worries sideways. Isabella smiled and pulled it to her chest. ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, I just couldn’t. Now, I can see how massively wrong I’ve been. By the way, where’s the paper you wrote the poems on?’
Archie pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over.
Isabella read it and frowned as Daisy returned to the table.
‘Problem?’
‘Just a bit,’ Isabella said and she proceeded to read the last poem:
‘You have but seven days and nights
‘As Earth moves in its cycle.
‘From first lightning strike and thunderclap
‘The world waits your arrival.’
‘I WAS RIGHT,’ Daisy said. ‘Remember, Archie? I told you I thought we had seven days—’
Isabella put her hands up. ‘I’ve been holding this whole thing up, haven’t I?’ She bit her lip. ‘And we’ve got to find two more of these little beauties in three days.’
‘What’s the problem?’ Daisy said.