The Ka of Gifford Hillary (48 page)

For some moments I felt no appreciable effect. Then a pulse began to hammer in my throat. I wanted to retch. My head felt as though the blood was being pumped into it until it would burst. I began to gasp internally. My eyes bulged. My lungs screamed at my brain for help. I could not go on. I let go my nose, spat out the sheet, and gulped in great draughts of stale chilly air.

My next thought was to open a vein so that I might bleed to death. Once more, I would have given every penny I possessed for a sharp implement; if not a knife a safety razor blade, or even a nail. That last thought spurred me to fresh action. I had no iron nail, but I had my own nails. Squeezing up my left hand I began to claw at the side of my neck hoping to open my jugular vein.

It was no use. I had always been rather proud of my hands, and had kept my nails well trimmed. Had I had more room for my arm I might have succeeded, but cramped and twisted
as it was I could not drag my nails fiercely down my neck. All I could do was to scratch with them and their blunt edges refused to penetrate the skin. All they did was to split upon it and make a sore from which seeped only a little surface blood. When I realised the futility of continuing I broke down and wept unrestrainedly.

I think my tears eased the tension of my mind a little, although they could not relieve my pain. As my sobbing lessened I scoured such wits as I had left for some other means by which to blot out my consciousness for good. I could think of none; but it occurred to me that I might, perhaps, render myself unconscious for a time, and as with every hour I must grow weaker, any time which could be so gained would lessen that of my sufferings.

Accordingly, I began to bang my forehead against the coffin lid in an attempt to knock myself out. Once again, lack of free space strictly limited my action. I could not bash my head with any force against the lid, but had to do my best with a swing of something under three inches. Jerking my neck repeatedly I struck as hard as I could, all the time increasing the tempo of the movement.

Soon my head was aching intensely, my ears were singing, and waves of coloured lights waxed and waned in the darkness before my eyes. Suddenly I had the impression that I was about to leave my body. I redoubled my efforts until I was three parts stunned. But, alas, the loosening of my mind under the stimulus of unceasing self-inflicted pain resulted in the lessening of my physical control over the muscles of my neck. Before I was properly out my head ceased jerking with any force at all, then dropped back and lay limply rolling from side to side. I had added a blinding headache to my other ills but was still sufficiently conscious to know that even temporary escape was beyond me.

Yet there had been those few blessed moments when I had felt myself to be within an ace of freedom. Owing to the battering I had given my forehead it seemed to be opening and shutting. That, of course, was an illusion; but, near insane now from half a dozen simultaneous forms of suffering, the idea came to me that I might drive my spirit out through my head. Calling up all the will-power that I had left, I strove to do so.

In my delirium I no longer paid any regard to my newly-acquired knowledge of the occult, but reverted to the belief of a life-time: that man had only a body and a soul. That my Ka might go out on the waves of pain through my gaping head while leaving my spirit still imprisoned in my flesh, did not occur to me. Yet I believe that is what happened.

I found myself in Daisy’s flat. It was early evening, but she was not in shabby clothes or preparing her high-tea-lunch. Propped up with cushions, and wearing a most fetching négligée she was, lying on the divan in her sitting-room. Close beside her sat the dark, rather heavy-looking man whom she had joined after refusing to listen to Johnny any longer at her night club. She had referred to him as her ‘rent cheque’ and, as it transpired during their conversation, he had exercised the privilege of his position to make her telephone to her club and say that she could not appear that night because she had gone down with a sudden bout of ‘flu; so would not be in till Monday.

He was now trying to persuade her to dress and pack a suitcase; so that he could take her in his car down to an hotel near Maidenhead, and they could spend a short week-end there. But she would not play.

She said there was too great a risk that someone who knew her would spot her, and that it might get to the manager of the club that she had bilked him. If it did she would get the sack; so the game was not worth the candle.

I was already endeavouring to make her see me; but the argument went on for quite a time, and her mind was entirely absorbed by it. Her friend tried to bribe her to accept the risk by the offer of a special present of twenty pounds, but she still dug her toes in, and said:

‘No, ducks. Nothing doing. I like it where I am, and other jobs aren’t so easy to get as you seem to think. Not Jobs on the level, that is. And you know you wouldn’t like me to have to let myself be messed about by some other fellow as part of what it takes to get a decent pay packet. After all, what’s wrong with this place? It’s nice and cosy here, and we won’t have to get up before we want in the morning because the chamber-maid has got to make the bed, or something. You slip out and buy us a nice bottle of wine, and half a chicken or a cold lobster for our dinner.’

The man gave in, and as he stood up my hopes rose; but only to be dashed a minute later. Instead of leaving the room to do as Daisy suggested he walked across to the gramophone and put a record on. Until I could get her alone, with her mind in a receptive state, I knew I had little chance of making contact with her; and soon I had cause for a new worry. I became conscious that my Ka lacked the feeling of permanency that it had had during the week it had roved at will through London and the Home Counties. Slowly but perceptibly the strength seemed to be ebbing from it; yet for well over an hour it was compelled to hover there impotently, before Daisy’s friend at last said that he would go out and get something for them to eat.

As soon as the front door had slammed behind him Daisy jumped up from the divan, walked straight through me, and went into the bathroom to powder her nose.

I should have known better than to follow her. However lax Daisy might be in her morals, she had the innate respectability of the British middle classes. Urged on by the knowledge that my still living body lay in the grave, I thought of nothing but my desperate need to be rescued, and saved from further torment at the earliest possible moment. Taking not the least notice of what she was doing I placed myself before her and positively forced my presence into her consciousness.

She started and went bright pink. Then her blue eyes blazed at the way I had outraged her sense of modesty.

‘You beast!’ she cried. ‘You filthy-minded scum! How dare you come and play the Paul Pry on me when I’m paying a penny!’

Thoughts tumbled towards her in a torrent from my brain. ‘Daisy, I didn’t mean to. I swear I didn’t; but I’ve been striving to catch your attention for the best part of two hours. Help me! You must! For God’s sake help me! Telephone to Longshot. You only have to let people know. You needn’t even give your name. I’m … don’t! Stop! Please!’

That was as far as I managed to get. Now white with anger, she made the sign of the Cross and shouted: ‘Avaunt thee Satan! Go! Unclean thing, go! Get back to Hell where you belong.’

Had she had the powers of an archangel her abjuration,
in this instance, could not have been more effective. I expect that she would have barred her consciousness against me anyhow, even if I had not so flagrantly infringed her particular code of decent behaviour. But I had been rushed into my blunder not only through the dominating urge to get help. It had also been, in part at least, because for the past hour I had known my Ka to be weakening. Now its last resources of will and energy had been used up in its desperate effort to get a hearing from Daisy. Under her curse, it seemed to wilt. I saw her only as through a thickening veil for another few moments. Then I found myself back in my coffin.

I was no longer delirious. Whether my Ka had actually journeyed to London and appeared to Daisy, or that had been only a figment of my distraught imagination, I had no means of judging; but my mind was again quite clear. I was still in great pain and now terribly weak. While I had been lying still the seeping cold had numbed me, yet my face burnt with fever. My tongue was thick and leathery in my mouth.

For the last time my mind sought wildly for any possible chance that I might have overlooked. I had laid it down in my will that the vault should not be sealed until a week after my funeral. The Sexton and his mates would then come again to my grave. But I had been buried on Tuesday and this was only Saturday night. Without water I could not possibly survive for another two and a half days. But how long would it be before I died? I made one last despairing effort to break out of my coffin, then fell back utterly exhausted. Soon afterwards I drifted into merciful oblivion.

Before proceeding further it is necessary that I should give an account of what happened to Johnny Norton after he had been placed under close arrest.

Group Captain Kenworthy led him to the Provost Marshal’s department, where the formality of taking down particulars was gone through; then into another room where there were two Security Officers. After inviting Johnny to sit down and giving him a cigarette the Group Captain told him that it would help matters considerably if he were willing to answer a few more questions about me, as that might give them a new line of investigation and enable them to clear him of the accusation that had been made against himself.

No doubt the suggestion was made in perfectly good faith; but, fearing that he might be led to make statements which would later prejudice his own case, Johnny very wisely replied that, in view of the gravity of the charge, he was not prepared to discuss the matter further until he had consulted a solicitor.

On that he was assured that he would be given every facility to do so. The Group Captain then introduced one of the others—a tall fair man—as Wing Commander Tinegate, and said that he would be responsible for Johnny during the period of his arrest. Tinegate took him down to the courtyard and across to a waiting car with an R.A.F. driver.

Johnny suggested that they should go in his car wherever they were going; but Tinegate was not agreeable to that. However, he did agree that it could not be left parked indefinitely outside the Air Ministry, and also that Johnny should be allowed to pick up some things from his rooms. Another R.A.F. driver was procured to drive Johnny’s car down to Earls Court and leave it in the mews garage that he rented behind Nevern Square. The Air Ministry car followed it with Tinegate and Johnny. Having seen it garaged they drove
round the corner to the house and went upstairs. While Johnny packed a bag Tinegate waited in his sitting-room, then, when they came downstairs, he told his landlady that he would be away for a few days and they went out to the car. In it they were then driven down to the R.A.F. Depot at Uxbridge.

Tinegate was evidently familiar with that part of it in which officers awaiting courts martial are confined as, when the car pulled up in front of one of the many buildings, he took Johnny straight in past a sentry to a ground-floor corridor that had a number of rooms opening on to it. One was a sitting-room, quite comfortably furnished, and well supplied both with books and indoor games. The others were small bedrooms. Johnny was given the one at the far end of the corridor, and Tinegate took the one next door, leaving in it a suit-case he had brought with him in the car.

Back in the sitting-room he said that, as Johnny must know, in cases of close arrest an officer of equivalent rank had to remain with the prisoner during his period of detention; so they must pass some days in one another’s company; that to discuss the charge with the prisoner was against regulations so no reference should be made to it; that any reasonable request by Johnny would be granted; and that he hoped they would get on well together.

Johnny thanked him, then asked to telephone to a solicitor. Tinegate agreed, and as Johnny had not got a solicitor of his own he took the sound step of getting on to my old friend Eddie Arnold in Southampton. Eddie said that he had an appointment at ten o’clock next morning which he could not possibly cut, but that he would catch the first train up to London after it, and come out to Uxbridge in the afternoon.

The two Wing Commanders then settled down in the sitting-room. Tinegate sent for drinks, and they had a desultory chat, mostly about their Service experiences and other officers whom they found to be mutual acquaintances. Dinner was brought in to them from the Mess on trays, and afterwards Johnny sat down to write a long letter to Sue while Tinegate read a novel. At about half-past ten they went to bed.

Next morning after breakfast Johnny asked to see the Commandant of the depot; adding that he had no complaint to make but wished to speak to him on a private matter.

Tinegate enquired if it was not something in which he
could help, and on being assured that it wasn’t, summoned an orderly who fetched the Duty Officer of the day. He was duly given a message, but came back ten minutes later to say that the Station Commander had already left to attend an Air Ministry conference for ten o’clock; so Johnny would not be able to see him until his return.

Part of the morning was spent in exercise, but Tinegate must have found Johnny a dull and greatly preoccupied companion as they walked up and down the edge of the parade ground together, and have been heartily glad when it was time to go in for lunch.

Soon after two Eddie Arnold telephoned to say that he had been unavoidably detained so could not get out to Uxbridge till about six. A further enquiry for the Station Commander elicited the information that he was not yet back, and that when he went up to the Air Ministry he usually spent the day in London. So Tinegate was condemned to spend a good part of the afternoon walking, or sitting, again with his near-mute prisoner. Just before six, Eddie made his appearance and Tinegate left Johnny with him in the sitting-room.