by Paul Meloy
As they walked together, Andy had taken his hand.
WHEN TREVENA AND Andy reached Doctor Mocking’s house, lights were on and the front door was open. Trevena pulled into the drive and parked the Cortina next to John’s Minx.
“Told you,” Trevena said. They got out and went up to the porch.
On the way down, they had talked. There had been much to discuss but the conversation had centred on Andy’s future. He had been missing for the best part of four decades and although he had been able to ascertain the passing of time to some degree, and had been aware of the world around Chapel the man in flashes and patches, he was still ignorant of most of it. He knew his mother was dead. He had felt the separation through Chapel, and had done his grieving in the dark. And most importantly, he knew what he was and had an appreciation of its importance and its comfort for him. Trevena wasn’t concerned for Andy’s mental state or well being, but there were practicalities.
Namely, where Andy would live and under what name.
Not only could he hotwire a car, Trevena had a few contacts, from back in the day and from the forensic work he often got involved in. A bit of paperwork and a computerised paper trail and Andy could very well be his distant relative. Andy liked this idea. He also liked Trevena’s subsequent idea.
An orphan now, Andy would have to live with Trevena.
They went inside.
THEY HAD TAKEN Doctor Mocking to his bedroom. Elizabeth and Claire had washed and dressed him. Now Lesley and Anna sat with him and watched over their father until other doctors came. His death was to be treated as natural causes, which in the end, it was.
Bismuth and Index were in the study sorting out paperwork for the girls. Robin was sitting at Doctor Mocking’s desk scrolling through his computer. They all appeared distracted but acknowledged Trevena and Andy with a nod or a gesture.
Daniel and Elizabeth had their coats on. They embraced both Trevena and Andy.
“It’s been good to see you again, Phil,” Daniel said. “Keep in touch.”
“For sure,” said Trevena. “Where are you going? Need a lift?”
“No, we’re fine. We’re going to take the bus.”
“Seriously?”
Elizabeth took Daniel’s arm and kissed his cheek. “Normality is what this man needs,” she said.
Steve and Claire were in the lounge with Chloe.
“Hey, Phil! Andy!” Steve said and stood to greet them. Chloe smiled and remained seated on the rug, the toy tiger in her hand, trotting it through the patterns. Claire looked well, a little flushed, but content.
“Don’t get up,” said Trevena, and bent to kiss her. Andy sat on the rug with Chloe. She let him take the tiger and prowl it around a bit.
I’m going to have to buy him games, Trevena thought. Fantastic!
“What now?” asked Steve.
“For me?” Trevena said. “I’m going to take retirement.” The fact was suddenly without doubt in his mind. “Andy’s coming to live with me, so I’ll have plenty of time to make up with him.”
“That’s awesome,” said Steve. “Nice one. I’ll be going part time now we’ve got another on the way.”
“What do you do?”
Steve glanced at Claire, who was listening, her expression patient but well versed.
“This and that,” Steve said. “You know.”
Trevena laughed. “I’m sure you’ll be well looked after,” he said.
Alex and Eliot came into the hallway from the kitchen.
“Curry’s ready,” said Eliot. “Come and help yourselves.”
Trevena looked down at Andy, who screwed up his face.
“Don’t like curry?” asked Steve.
“What is it?” said Andy.
Trevena laughed, “Something else for you to find out, son. Come on, we should go home.”
THEY WALKED OUT with Daniel and Elizabeth and paused by the cars.
“Thanks again, Phil,” Daniel said. They shook hands.
“Is it really all over?” Trevena asked.
Daniel shrugged beneath his heavy coat. “For the most part,” he said. “What we do, though, when we are permitted, that will continue.” He looked at Andy. “We’ll show you.”
Andy looked up at Trevena. Trevena nodded. “I’ll make sure of it,” he said.
“People will continue to suffer until the re-creation,” Daniel said. “That’s without doubt. We’ll have more freedom now to help them, if they allow us. Easier access to their dreams. It’s what we were created to do. And there might be more of us, too. Maybe trapped like you were, or just lost. We might be able to find them. We’re still learning.”
They stood for a moment in silence, all contemplating Daniel’s words. Trevena knew Andy needed rest, and acclimatisation, but he also knew the others wouldn’t push him, not until he was ready.
He was about to open the door to the Cortina but stopped when his phone rang. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the display. He sighed.
“I should take this,” he said. He stepped away from the group and walked over to where a bright oblong of yellow light shone onto the drive through the drawing room window.
“Hello, Rob.”
“Phil, it’s Rob!”
“Yes, I know. What’s up, mate?”
“I missed our appointment. I’m sorry. I met up with a couple of fellas and lost track of time.”
“It’s ok. Pop in tomorrow and we’ll sort you out.”
“I had another very strange dream.”
“Yeah, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“’Bye, Rob.” Trevena disconnected and as he did so, he felt someone’s eyes on him. He looked up.
Chloe was sitting on the window seat. She smiled and raised a hand, placing it palm-outwards against the glass.
Trevena smiled back, and waved. He held up his phone, made a quizzical face.
Chloe nodded.
Trevena put the phone back in his pocket and went to join the others, thinking, When I retire, Rob, I’m going to discharge you into Peter Foreman’s care. You deserve each other.
Daniel was smiling.
Trevena looked at the old, weary Ford parked next to John’s vintage Minx, and felt the completeness of it, and with that came a small surge of pleasure, despite the poignancy of it.
“We ought to leave these for the kids,” he said. He could hear Eliot and Alex shouting and horsing about inside the house. “It’s what Colin and John would want.”
Daniel nodded.
“That’s nice, dear,” Elizabeth said.
“Let’s all take the bus,” Trevena said.
“Excellent,” said Andy. “Can we sit downstairs? I don’t like the top deck. Too smoky.”
Trevena put an arm around the boy’s shoulders.
“Such things I have to teach you, son,” he said.
The four of them walked away from the house together.
IN A FIELD on a hillside overlooking a wide and beautiful bay, where overgrown lanes of wild roses and honeysuckle hid tiny wooden shacks, two men stood and watched a young dog not long out of puppyhood chase cornflower butterflies.
“I love it here,” said Colin. He was younger, stronger. He was the man John had first met as a child, working behind the counter at the Reservoir End Dog’s Home. His moustache was dark, with only a few gray hairs beginning to show.
“Me too,” said John Stainwright. He breathed deeply of the cool sea air.
They remained standing on the edge of the Plotlands looking out over Quay-Endula, watching Bix prance and leap, making no attempt to catch the butterflies but enjoying their flirting dance above the dog daisies.
“Will you have to go again?” Colin asked, still staring out to sea. “Will you be reborn?”
John thought for a while.
“I really don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think we know much at all, really.”
Colin turned to look at his friend. As he did so, Bix barked
and stumbled and rolled head-over heels in the grass. He came up with grass in his mouth, tail wagging.
“Come on,” John said. He turned and started walking back to their shack. They had painted it Carolina blue and had begun gluing shells and driftwood to its slats. “That punch will be about ready now.”
Bix perked up at John’s voice.
He ran to join them, skipping at their heels, his soft ears blowing in the wind, eyes shut with delight.
When Liz Drake’s best friend vanishes, nothing can stop her nightmares. Driven by the certainty he needs her help, she crosses a continent to search for him. She finds Blake comatose in a Vancouver hospital, victim of a mysterious accident that claimed his lover’s life – in her dreams he drowns.
Blake’s new circle of artists and mystics draws her in, but all of them are lying or keeping dangerous secrets. Soon nightmare creatures stalk the waking city, and Liz can’t fight a dream from the daylight world: to rescue Blake she must brave the darkest depths of the Dreamlands.
Even the attempt could kill her, or leave her mind trapped or broken. And if she succeeds, she must face the monstrous Yellow King, whose slave Blake is on the verge of becoming forever.
‘Amanda Downum infuses both Lovecraftian and Carcosian influences into Dreams of Shreds & Tatters, creating a variety of urban fantasy far darker and more dangerous than what we’ve been accustomed to.’
Steve Rasnic Tem, author of Deadfall Hotel
www.solarisbooks.com
Captain Jim Wedderburn has looks, style and courage. He’s adored by women, respected by men and feared by his enemies. He’s the man to fi nd out who has twisted London into this strange new world.
But in Dream London the city changes a little every night and the people change a little every day. The towers are growing taller, the parks have hidden themselves away and the streets form themselves into strange new patterns.
There are people sailing in from new lands down the river, new criminals emerging in the East End and a path spiraling down to another world.
Everyone is changing, no one is who they seem to be.
‘A real feat of the imagination, this is a really exceptional book, unlike anything I’ve ever read before.’
Chris Beckett
‘As strange and unclassifiable a novel as it’s possible to imagine, and a marvellous achievement.’
The Financial Times
www.solarisbooks.com
THIS IS THE HOTEL WHERE OUR NIGHTMARES GO...
It’s where horrors come to be themselves, and the dead pause to rest between worlds. Recently widowed and unemployed, Richard Carter finds a new job, and a new life for him and his daughter Serena, as manager of the mysterious Deadfall Hotel. Jacob Ascher, the caretaker, is there to show Richard the ropes, and to tell him the many rules and traditions, but from the beginning, their new world haunts and transforms them.
It’s a terrible place. As the seasons pass, the supernatural and the sublime become a part of life, as routine as a morning cup of coffee, but it’s not safe, by any means. Deadfall Hotel is where Richard and Serena will rebuild the life that was taken from them... if it doesn’t kill them first.
‘Tem’s Deadfall Hotel makes The Shining’s Overlook Hotel look like Butlins. Eerie, disturbing and yet strangely touching, you’ll check in but may never check out.’
Christopher Fowler, bestselling author of the Bryant and May Mysteries and Hell Train
‘Rasnic Tem is at the height of his powers with this effort.’
Fearnet.com
‘Truly brilliant.’
Denver Post
‘Steve Rasnic Tem is a school of writing unto himself.’
Joe R. Lansdale
www.solarisbooks.com