The Watchers (11 page)

London

Jay and Tom’s flight set dow
n
on English soil three days before the summer solstice. Jay was aiming to head towards Glastonbury, but Tom was opting for Stonehenge. “The idea was for you to come and support me while I found Fran,” Jay complained as they walked through Heathrow’s airport terminal. The place was covered with armed guard and whirling security cameras.

“I’ve got my own stuff to do.” Tom wanted to see Mia. It was all he wanted.

“So, you get me to pay for your flight and now you’re ‘doing your own thing’.” Jay would have raised his fingers to imitate air quotation marks, but his hands were full.

Tom glowered. He was jet lagged and grumpy. "Why are you so pissed? I kept you company on the flight, didn't I? Not many would have done that, believe me, bro."

Jay was incredulous. The nerve of the guy! And they weren’t really friends anyway. “How are you getting there, to Stonehenge?”

“You can drop me off.”

Jay grunted his response. Frankly, he was having serious second thoughts. It was one thing, dreaming about being with Fran 24/7, but it was quite another to jump on a plane and fly half way across the world, at great expense, when he didn't even know where she was. He needed his head examined. Apart from the obvious reasons why he shouldn't be there, Fran may have found some other guy by now. She was a beautiful woman. It wouldn't take a lot for some rich Englishmen to lay down his life for her. And after the way Jay had treated her, he wouldn't blame her if she hated him now. Yes, he was thinking of taking the return ticket out of his pocket and going straight back to New York. Somehow it felt safer there. "How am I expected to find my way around this goddamn country all on my own?"

“More to the point...how are you going to find Fran?” Tom spat back.

“Well, I guess I’ll have a GPS in my car? I mean they have that here, right?”

“You know New York isn’t the only place on the planet. You need to get out more, dude.”

When they arrived at Hertz and Jay had processed the paperwork, neither of them could believe how small the car was. A Sierra! The guy in the suit said, “You can upgrade, sir, but it will be extra on your bill.”

“That’s just great.” He said raising his voice while some passers-by stared. “I never drive in New York and the first chance I get to feel the power of an engine beneath me, I’m driving around in a white bubble.” He threw his luggage into the trunk and slammed it shut. “Hello, England.”

They drove West on the M4. Jay
was concentrating so hard on the motorway that his knuckles went white from clutching the steering wheel. “Why do they have to drive on the wrong side of the road?” He was keeping track of it through the GPS. At least he had that. And why are the cars on this little side road here, the same as this white bubble…
small
?”

“There’s a recession over her too, Pi. Or don’t you watch the news? The cars are electric; it’s all the commuters can afford. Their mustangs are locked up in a garage somewhere with no gas.”

“Well, I guess it feels good to be out of the city. The English have had it good compared to us, right?”

"They've suffered in their own way, but a lot of the old folks don't mind. They say it's like wartime all over again. They're growing vegetables in their backyards," Tom added with a chuckle.

Jay shook his head. “Weird, huh!” Jay smiled as he kept on driving. He was keeping to the slow lane until he got used to the road. “What do you know about all this English stuff, anyhow?”

“Mia tells me about it.” Tom sat with his feet up on over the glove box. There wasn’t much room for his legs in that small car.

Jay looked at the clouds hanging like blankets in the sky in front of him. “What’s with this crazy weather? I thought it was bad in NY but there’s no friggin; air here.” He searched for the air-con. But he couldn’t wait for it to start up. He wound down the windows on the doors at the back.

“So, have you got hold of her yet?” Tom asked.

Jay took a sideways glance at the kid. “Who?”

“Fran.”

“Nope. I tried her again from the airport, but nothing. I’m telling you, kid, she’s ignoring me. I have good instincts for these things.”

“Don’t worry,” Tom offered encouragingly. “Women like to get chased.”

"Is that right? And you'd know all about it, would you? You're a man of the world now, huh?"

Tom ignored him. He took a final swig of his soda, burped, and then crushed the tin with one hand.

Jay sniggered. Truthfully, he liked the kid. He was good company and he didn’t take any of Jay’s bullshit. He liked having him around. “Come with me to Glastonbury,” he pleaded one last time.

“Nope. I’m going to see Mia.”

“But, you’ve never even met.”

“Are you kidding? She knows me better than anyone.”

“Yeah, but do you know her, kid. Do you know her?”

“Course I do. She’s my gal. We’ve always said so.”

“Young love, eh!” Jay had a real dirty laugh.
Love!
Maybe if he was younger, he could deal with all of that stuff, but he was going to be thirty-five next month. He should be past that now. It was certainly no age to go running around after women.

“So you’ve told her you’re coming, right?” Jay asked. When the kid didn’t answer, Jay took his eyes off the road to glance at Tom. “Oops, you haven’t told her.” He laughed, but then he almost hit a truck on the inside lane. “Shit.”

“You just watch your driving, Buddy, and I’ll worry about Mia. I told you, everything’s going to be all right. She’s going to be ecstatic to see me. No worries.”

Stonehenge, Wiltshire

Mia had been asleep in her ten
t
when it happened. An almost unbearable heat had descended the country, like a message of foreboding. The skies were heavy with dark clouds hiding the sun with their thickness. Everyone was awaiting a storm, a storm so big it would clear away the mugginess of the air and allow a breathable breeze.

Mia had unzipped her sleeping bag and lay atop it. She was wearing a thin t-shirt and cotton shorts and minutes before she’d sprayed her face with water to cool her body down. That’s when she’d fallen into a restless sleep.

Her dream was the sort of dream she didn't want to wake up from since her imagination would never have extended so far to finish it. She found herself in Woodhenge, dancing around the white dots which had turned into faeries; little sparkling fairies like Tinkerbelles. They were laughing and playing, until they became entangled in her hair and started tugging and pulling to be released from the trap made of Mia's long locks. She was picking them out one by one until her mother was dragging a nit comb through her hair pulling out crawling white lice. Her mother set the garden hose on her and she was suddenly basking in the white sunlight beneath a beautiful waterfall tumbling over a cliff face. She was at Dover, running along the top of the white chalk cliffs, her hair wet and matted. Tom was chasing her but he was growling and cursing. Goddamn, he kept saying, goddamn, over and over again; goddamn, goddamn…She was drinking milk, white and frothy like snow and then she was throwing the contents over the head of a man she couldn't recognise.

Then she felt his form cover hers.

She gasped as the sensual warmth of him above her naked body. His hands were stroking her shoulders as he caressed her neck with kisses. She was arching her back, waiting for him to take her, to set her on fire as she smouldered with passion. She wrapped her hands around his head and as white paper become splattered with black ink she opened her eyes to see a black mist covering her body like a blanket, its outer layers like extended limbs, morphing into the shape of a man, lying atop her, about to enter her body…She opened her eyes again and the figure raised his head. He had an expression of seduction on his beautiful face, but as Mia suddenly felt the pressure of his hands wrapped around her wrists, pinning them to the white sheets beneath her, his face changed as quickly as a heartbeat. His demonic features snarled at her just inches from her face and as she opened her mouth to scream he opened his, revealing dozens of snarling sharp bloodied teeth.

Mia screamed as she forced him from her, pushing him away as she fought not to choke when he leaned his head to the side of hers and bent towards her neck with its preying snarling teeth.

When she woke up, she rubbed her face, removing her blushes at the memory of the dream. And at her side, Charlie was snarling with a low growl in his throat.

“
What the hell are you doing here?
”
Mia shouted as she searched through her gear, looking for a baseball cap. "I don't know what to say. I mean, you turn up, you don't tell me you're coming..." She found her cap and fixed it onto her head then she stood up and saw him standing there like a little-lost puppy. What was she supposed to do with him? Jesus wouldn't like him…that was for sure.

“Mia...” Tom said.

“And another thing…where do you think you’re going to sleep? There’s no room for you in my little tent.” She could feel herself redden. “You didn’t expect...? Oh, this is too much.”

“So, you’re pleased to see me, right?”

Despite her horror, Mia stopped talking and chuckled. She’d always thought when she eventually met Tom Stone she would feel a little uncomfortable at first. After all, it happens. Two people meet on-line and then when they eventually go face-to-face...well, it just doesn’t always work out.

"I can bunk next to your campfire. It'll be neat," he said with his American accent that seemed out of place among the travellers.

She looked at his rucksack resting on the grass. It had a rolled-up green sleeping bag attached to it with frayed string. He was wearing blue jeans with trainers...or sneakers as he called them, and a T. Shirt with ‘I’m sooo Watching you’ emblazoned on the front over an etching of an angel.

Mia was surprised at how tall he was. Six foot plus, she guessed. He was athletic, but she had expected that, seeing as he played a lot of basketball. He had dark, messy black hair and a cheeky smile, which was one of the things she had been attracted to when they’d first exchanged photographs. But technology had done nothing for his blue eyes and the way the colour contrasted strikingly with his dark, unkempt hair.

She stood in front of him with her arms akimbo. “How did you even get here? You’re broke, remember?”

“I hitched.”

She guffawed. “You did not ‘hitch’.”

“Sure did.”

Mia saw Jesus coming towards them. He had a quizzical look on his face and he closed the gap with purposeful strides. “Trouble?” He was looking at Tom.

“No...erm, he’s a friend of mine.” She could not introduce them. “This is Tom Stone.” Maybe she could leave it at that.

“How ya doin’?” Tom said. He was looking at Mia, waiting for a name.

“Tom. This is, uhm...Jesus.”

Tom spluttered. She knew he’d do that. “Excuse me?”

“Something funny?” Jesus asked.

“Jesus! Like...Jesus?”

“That’s right.”

Tom looked at Mia’s face and backed down. It was a good move. “Hey how ya doin’?”

“Jesus is a friend of mine, Tom. We’ve had a lot to talk about.”

“Right! Like what exactly?”

She couldn't believe it. Tom was jealous. She was so cross with him. He was ruining everything. "I'm sorry, Jesus..." She saw Tom stifle a laugh at the sue of the revered name. "My American friend here seems to have lost his manners. I apologise."

“Yeah well, that’s the Americans for you, Mia,” Jesus said, as he turned away and went back to his van.

“Great guy,” Tom quipped.

“He is actually, and I don’t appreciate you being rude to him.” Mia leaned closer to him and whispered. “He’s Kudos.”

He nodded as he looked towards Jesus who was unlocking his van. “You don’t say,” Tom muttered. “You don’t say.”

The day before the ev
e
of the solstice, a taxi pulled in at the side of the A303 running past the ancient structure of Stonehenge. Keri Rains was alone when she stepped out, and before she paid the driver she had a long hard look at the area around the stones and the fields opposite, packed with cars and camper vans, tents, and hundreds of people. It was nearly seven and as the sun gradually sunk behind the trees, the evening had turned chilly. She pulled her beige cable knit cardigan around her body and handed a twenty to the driver. “Can you come back in two hours?”

"Sorry, love. I'm booked. You might catch a ride back with a drop-off. Just keep your eyes peeled." Keri stepped away from the car as it pulled away, setting off to Salisbury from whence it came.

Harry had let her down and as far as she was concerned, he’d let Elizabeth down too. He had telephoned before she left London, but she was too angry with him to talk. Instead, she ignored his messages and resigned herself to going to Stonehenge on her own, where she could pray for her daughter’s safe return.

A familiar ice-cream van was closing its windows and packing up. She remembered it being there last year and the year before that. When Harry had bought two cones, with his arm around Keri’s shoulders, he’d put his together with hers, as if they were making a toast with two glasses of champagne. That was the first time they’d gone to the stones after Elizabeth’s abduction, but a year on, last year, she and Harry were barely talking. It was just after they’d split and emotions were raw, full of bitterness and recriminations. It was as if each of them needed to have someone to blame, someone to be accountable for letting her go to the park that day.

Keri strolled along the recently worn manmade track running towards the ancient monument. The control procedures were relaxed for the solstice, demanded six years ago by the people who believed the stones belonged to them, English Heritage. Initially, the travellers and locals demanded access all year round, without charge, but English Heritage revoked their demands, claiming they would hope that one day when the recession was over, the historic site could be opened again to the paying public. Now, freedom of access was only allowed on the two most important dates of the year for pagan worshippers; the summer and winter solstices.

As she reminisced, Keri suddenly recalled a strange incident that had happened last year when she went there with Harry.

They had been walking amid the stones. Harry was just a couple of feet away from her smiling at a woman who was laughing as she played around with her boyfriend amid the monument. Right then, Keri ran her palm over one of the giant stones and her fingers touched something smooth. Ina natural motion, she turned her eyes towards the stone and for a second she could have sworn she saw it move. The sensation was gone within seconds, so she put it down to the sun playing tricks on her. Nevertheless, it had troubled her so much that she remembered leaving the circle to find an area of grass to sit down, away from the crowds. When Harry had come looking for her, she told him she’d simply felt a little dizzy.

Now she realised she hadn't thought about the occasion since it had happened. It was as if it had been wiped from her memory…until now when it had returned. Just like that.

She felt tired as she walked slowly up to the stones from the main road.

Last night, as she'd slept in her hotel bed, she'd had the most disturbing dream. At first, it had felt sensuous, as her body reacted to the caresses of a figure lying atop her. Gentle hands had stroked her body like a lover's embrace and when she lifted her hips to connect to his, she'd opened her eyes. She remained unalarmed when she saw a man, his body opaque and moving, looking like a black mist was hovering over her body. As she gradually awoke, his face had changed to the face of a demon, with a snarl of pointed teeth as if he was going to devour her with his deadly bite. She'd screamed and woke up by falling off the side of the bed, where, in a daze, she got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the mattress with its crumpled white sheets. The dream had felt real and it had unnerved her so much, she'd spent the rest of the night reading her book.

Now, she was walking with slow steps towards the stones, where she’d wait for the dawn of the summer solstice, where she’d pray for the safe return of her beloved daughter, Elizabeth.