Paranormal Investigations: No Situation Too Strange (20 page)

"I want it now."

"Patience.  Patience."

"How do I know to trust you - that you are not some foul magic sent to trick me?"

"She's under your desk now."

"What?"

"Leo Fey is hiding under the desk.  In her hands she has the reports you asked for on her.  She slipped through the front door not ten minutes ago because you did not bother to lock it."

There was silence.  My heart began to do an ADHD version of the Tango in my chest, my mouth went dry and my throat ripped with breath.  I tried really hard to think of my flat, my offices - somewhere safe.  Please beam me up, Scotty. 

I began to feel a whoosh fill me, just as a pair of legs appeared in front of the desk, he reached down and grabbed hold of the papers and if I could just stay one more second I could see his face... one more second and I would know who he was...

I went and landed with a wet thump.

Bloody trolls.  Somehow, despite my best efforts to think of nice, safe, familiar places I had managed to let one thought of Trevor slip in and landed in the middle of the Pymmes Brook in Oakhill Park.  It was bloody freezing and since I landed in the position I left, I was now sitting in the middle of the water. 

I stood up, my clothes dragging me down with their sodden weight.

As I began to climb up the slippery, muddy bank a familiar raspy voice said: "Pay the toll, two mangoes."

I gave the troll the finger.  "Piss off Trevor."

He crossed his arms.  "Charmin’, I is sure."

I pulled myself up on to the bank and shook my legs.

“You is still alive then?” he rasped.

“What do you think?” I replied as I began the ten minute walk back to my flat.  I got many strange looks, but I was too cold to care.

With shaking hands, I unlocked the door to the flat building and climbed the stairs.  Only one more lock stood between me and a warm bath and I could put this day behind me.

I unlocked the door and entered.  In the hallway there were boxes and a stack of brightly coloured envelopes with festive stamps upon them.  Christmas was coming early it seemed.

"Hello?" I called out, "Bob, are you in?"

A figure in a Pizza Hut uniform, complete with baseball cap, appeared in the hall way.

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"I just went to the British Museum."

"For a month?"

"Huh?"

"Leo, you went missing on the second of November, people said you must have killed yourself because your life was so miserable."

"But it is the second of November now."

"No Leo, today is the thirtieth of November."

Oh shit.  "You mean I've been gone twenty-eight days?"

"Look," he pointed at the boxes, "they made me pack up your stuff.  They told me you were dead."

Then the little goat man burst into tears and wrapped his arms around my sodden form.

I patted him awkwardly on the back.

So what I'd missed twenty-eight days of my life - this way I'd always be a month younger than I had any god given right to be.

*

It's amazing how much people seem to care when they think you've topped yourself.  I'd never had so many posts on my Facebook page from so many random people.  I had a good time reading about how much they missed me and who could go over and above to claim the largest share of the grief as my closest friend. 

I did consider whether I could go back to the right time, but I couldn't have gone back if I thought it worth the effort, I just didn't know how to and it seemed like the damage was already done to those I cared for.  Of course, I didn't tell people I had slipped through time.  I claimed to have been backpacking in India 'finding myself' for a month.  If anyone asked for details I could not provide (since I had never been outside of Europe) I let them think I had been too high on an assortment of natural drugs to take in the scenery or sights.

I slipped back in to life with ease, well - for me at least - it was as if I had never been away.

Bob had done well at Pizza Hut and was their newest delivery boy.  It appears goblins can make anything you ask them to, including three GCSE certificates and a moped driving license.  He had saved all his money and on the third of December was moving in to his own place.

"I'll help you move," I told him the day I got back - post bath and with the addition of warm clothes.

"There's no need," he said.

"No Bob, you've been my house guest and it's the least I can do.  I'll help you."

His meagre belongings were packed up in two small bags and one box.  On the morning of the third I cooked him breakfast as it would be our last together.  I wasn't able to speak, damn it - I was going to miss him.

"Have you got enough money?" I asked him, rather like a mother sending her son off to university.

"I do, the tips are very nice thank you."

"And you've got everything you need?  Toilet brush?  Pint of milk?"

"You don't need to worry, Leo.  I'll be fine."

Huh, I wasn't worried about him - what would I do without his company?

I washed the dishes slowly, but it was clear Bob wanted to be off and all my efforts to put off this moment wouldn't stop it coming.  I had to face it - the moment to say goodbye to this strange little friend was here.

"Perhaps we could have dinner soon?" I asked, "Perhaps invite Trevor along too?"

He nodded.  "It's time to go."

"Ah, okay."

"You really don't need to help me."

"No, no - I want to."

"Very well."

I put my coat on, scarf, gloves, hat - you really felt the cold when you skipped twenty-eight days between autumn and winter.  I made sure I had my purse, phone and keys and picked up one of Bob's bags.  He carried the other bag and the box.

"Are you sure you have everything?"

"I have my blanket, my pizza hut uniform and a frying pan.  I'm sorted."

He seemed too composed for my liking, he wanted to leave.  It was as if our friendship meant nothing to him. 

Sniffing, I went out to the hallway and opened the door.  I sniffed again.  Dammit!

"Oh Bob!" I cried out, "I'm going to miss you!"

I grabbed him in a hug and let my tears fall.  He patted my back.

When I had regained some composure, I wiped my eyes with my coat sleeve and we left the flat.  I locked the door behind us and I began to walk down the corridor to the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Bob asked.

"Huh?"

"This is my flat."

He pointed to the door opposite my own.

"But a Sri Lankan lady lives there."

"She moved out when you were away.  She didn't like the way the neighbourhood was going, I don't think she liked the demons."

"You mean you let me go through all that and you live here?  Opposite me?"

"You didn't ask.  I did say I didn't need your help."

Part of me was furious that he had let me go through all those stupid emotions and part of me was very, very grateful that he was a metre across the hallway from me.

He got out his new keys and unlocked the door.  He went in and I passed him the bag.

"Thanks for your help."

"No problem."

"Well, goodbye then."

"Bye."

He smiled and closed the door.

I went back to my flat, unlocked it, went in and peeled off all my clothes that I was now far too hot in.

I had just thrown my coat on the sofa when there was a knock at the door.

Bob.

"Hello neighbour," he said, "I am new to the building and would like to know if you would care to join me for dinner this evening at my new flat."

"You daft bugger, Bob!" I grabbed him in a hug and kissed his cheek.

"I'll take that as a yes then."

"Only if I can bring my troll."

"Oh yes, I couldn't leave Trevor out.  He says he's going to keep up the culvert as a holiday home.  Modernist, he called it."

*

After moving Bob into his new home it was time to go up to the offices and face Rose.  I had been putting this off.  She was not going to be impressed.  I mean - who had been keeping her in biscuits for a month?

There was nothing unusual about the building, Reggie ignored me as always, but when I got to the Paranormal Investigations door it looked different.  I paused and stared at it.  What was it?  Then I realised that Great Aunt Mildred's drippy gold lettering was gone and replaced with professionally done letters.

Paranormal Investigations - no situation too strange,
it said,
Partners M Fey, MLE Fey and R Windsor.

What?  Who the feck was R Windsor?  That hadn't been on there before.

Inside, the plants were the same but the reception area had received an overhaul.  Gone were the old, recycled pieces of furniture and in were sleek and smooth coordinating pieces.  Heck, it made us look professional.  There was even a proper reception desk and a flat screen computer.  Rose was peering at the screen through her glasses which reflected the type.  She was checking out plant pots on e-bay.  My office was off to the right, as before, but now Great Aunt Mildred's old office to the left had undergone a re-vamp and
R Windsor
was in gold lettering on the door.

A shiny silver bell sat on the counter.  I rang it.  Rose looked up.

"Oh," she didn't look too surprised to see me, "he said you would be back."

"He?"

"The new partner."

"We have a new partner?"

"Well, it was that or go under.  For a month we weren't able to access the accounts without your signature.  Mildred had an offer too good to refuse."

"I have a business partner now?"

"Well, technically two, as you still have Mildred."

"Who is he?"

"Mr Windsor."

"I can figure that much out. 
Who
is he?"

She shrugged and then said accusingly, "I don't know.  But I can tell you his lawyer buys
very
good biscuits."

"Well that's alright then.  Is the new partner in?"

"He's never in.  I haven't even met him."

"Never?  Well he won't mind me nosing around his office then."

Rose looked as if she couldn't care less what I got up to.  I went to Mr Windsor's door and tried it.  Locked.

"Have you got the key?" I asked.

"Only Mr Windsor and his lawyer have the key."

Dammit.

"So, I have a new mystery business partner who has a locked office?"

Rose mumbled, her eyes distracted by the computer screen in front of her, and pressed to bid on a Grecian style pot.

I shook my head.  "Great."

I thought I might as well see what had been done to my office so I went inside.  Hmm, nothing.  It was exactly the same as before, even down to the pot plant which was watered by the leaking ceiling.  My office had not undergone any transformation other than to get a month older and mouldier.

I was distracted by my mobile phone ringing.  Jez. 

Taking a deep breath, to calm my thudding heart, I walked to the window to look out over the Hertfordshire hills as I answered it.  Calming, pretty hills.

"Hello Jez," my voice said calmly, well done voice - it sounded much calmer than I felt.

"Hello Leo.  You're a hard girl to get through to.  I've been trying for a month."

"I was away." He'd been trying to get hold of me for a month and hadn't given up!  I could have done a tap dance on the desk... had I been any good at dancing that is.

"That explains it then.  How are you?"

"Okay and you?  How's the show?"

"Almost over, I start on the film in Prague next week."

"So soon?"

"I was wondering whether you would be free for dinner before I go?" 

I smiled.  "I most certainly can be."

"I'm free Sunday night if that's any good for you?"

I flicked open my desk diary and thumbed through some pages.  Empty, empty, empty.  "I should be able to do Sunday.  Where shall we meet?"

"How about Waterloo station?  Under the clock? We need to talk."

"We do."

"So... Sunday then?"

"Yes.  See you Sunday."

My face ached.  I hadn’t smiled so much for a long time. 

He hadn't given up on me and now we had a date.  No matter what, I had promised to tell him I loved him - I owed it to myself and to him to do that in person.  Over the phone I would never be able to see his reaction.  Over the phone a person could lie too easily.

I was broken from my reverie by the ringing of my desk phone.