Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach (30 page)

"You did when you were translating. Don't you remember?" When Doug made his reluctance plain Sandra said "The man at the bonfire said those people were leeches, you told us. And the churchwarden if that's what we should call him, you said he was talking about transfusions. Don't you see that means they get blood on somebody else's behalf?"

"It doesn't have to mean that," Natalie said, "and I'm sure it doesn't. We've no reason to believe they were the same people either."

"That's because their faces wouldn't stay still in the church. I wonder if William saw them better than we did."

"Please don't bring him into it, mother, and certainly don't ask him."

"I wasn't about to." With enough frustration to be expressing Ray's as well Sandra said "But can you honestly think that man would have driven them out of his church just for giving blood?"

"I don't know what his beliefs may tell him to do. I don't suppose you do either, Doug."

As Doug gave his head a sad-faced shake Ray was provoked to point out "There's something you both know that I haven't told your mother."

Only Sandra spoke. "What's that, Ray?"

"When we were under the monastery you both saw that cell with the marks on the wall."

Doug responded, though not immediately. "That's how some people keep track of the days."

"Not days down there, though. You saw what they were, Natalie, and you would have said except for William." When she closed her eyes once more Ray said "They were years, Sandra. Nearly four hundred of them."

"Just because they were in hundreds," Doug said, "it needn't mean that at all."

"But there was that motto in the chapel," Sandra reminded him. "Feed on the immortal and the immortal feeds on you."

"We weren't sure if it said that, and in any case all it has to mean is somebody who knew the legend wrote it on the wall."

"How much more are you going to dismiss like that? Do you really think we're so senile we're deluded?" Before Natalie or Doug could say what their faces already conveyed, Sandra said "And none of us knew about the monastery when Tim and Jonquil had their dreams. They dreamt about something that lived in the dark, if you remember."

"No need to bring them into it either," Doug said.

"What else are you going to refuse to look at?" As Ray grew tense in case she meant to talk about the teenagers Sandra said "People have been trying to let us know what's going on here ever since we came. We should have noticed how everyone is."

"You can't believe everyone is, I'm not going to say it," Natalie begged.

"Not even most of them. More likely just a few, but they all know. That's why they're ashamed of being glad we're here, can't you tell?"

"Likely," Doug repeated in despair as Ray said "And there are those names in the graveyard."

"Dad," Natalie said, "according to you they're supposed to be kept alive, not dead."

"They must have made some kind of mistake."

This seemed uselessly feeble, and he saw Sandra thought so. He shouldn't have mentioned the names at all. Perhaps they'd been victims of greed, he thought, and instantly knew that Ditton must have been one. He was wondering if he dared make the point when Sandra said "I'd like either of you to explain about the mirrors. How many have you seen since we came to the island?"

"Look, maybe some of the people believe the legend," Doug said. "That doesn't prove a thing except they do."

"Then here's some proof you won't be able to ignore," Sandra said and stood up. "Come and look at me in the mirror."

"Mother," Natalie pleaded, but Sandra was already on her way. "Yes, both of you," Ray managed to urge without faltering. "Go and see."

He sounded as if he didn't want to, which might well be the case. He limped hastily after them as Sandra opened the bathroom door wide and advanced to the mirror. He had scarcely joined them when Natalie turned away, immediately followed by her brother. "Mum, that's just a flaw in the glass," Doug said."

Sandra swung around, looking as triumphant as her sunglasses allowed. "What is?"

"The way you were a bit blurred," Natalie said. "That's what you meant, isn't it? Ask Evadne to replace the mirror."

"Can't you even bear to look?"

"We did," Doug said as he and Natalie moved away from the bathroom. "Please don't keep looking at it. It can't do you any good."

Sandra tramped out of the bathroom and slammed the door. "You really are determined not to see, both of you."

As Natalie dabbed at her eyes so fast and fiercely that she seemed bent on denying the action, Doug said "We just wanted to help if we could. We weren't expecting this."

"Not both of you," Natalie said almost to herself.

"We've been together too long to part now," Sandra said.

"We wouldn't want you to," Natalie cried. "But you don't have to agree about everything."

"We don't, but we do about this."

"Then I can't think what else we can do for you," Doug said as though exhaustion had overtaken him.

"Maybe you needn't do anything," Ray said. "You might remember we're still your parents. We can still know best now and then."

Though he felt embarrassingly banal, the rebuke appeared to work. Both their children looked defeated or at any rate resigned; "Come down when you're ready," Doug surrendered to saying, "and we can all decide what we're doing for the day."

Natalie followed him out of the apartment, only to turn to their parents. "If it helps you to believe all that," she said as best she could for the infirmness of her mouth, "I don't suppose we should take away your faith. But you shouldn't expect anyone else to believe, and I hope you won't try to make us any more."

Once the door closed Sandra said "Was there anything else we could have told them?"

"Nothing that was likely to convince them." Just the same, Ray felt encouraged to add "When I was at Sunset, Beach and found out everybody was a newcomer I heard a young chap talking about a dream he'd had of being visited at night, and he had the mark on his arm."

"I don't think they would have given that much credence."

"But they ought to have seen what the priest on the beach meant. He was pointing at you and Tim and Jonquil, I'm certain. So was the woman I chased, if I'm not mistaken."

"They'd say you were."

"And then she saw three of those, those creatures waiting. Didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, Ray, I don't think anyone but you did."

The question had suggested one that made him more nervous. "Have you ever seen your, your visitor?"

"I think I dream when he comes instead."

Ray found the nonchalance of their discussion grotesque, which began to infuriate him. "But Julian saw one. He even touched it," he complained. "He simply won't admit what it was like."

"Maybe we shouldn't expect anyone to believe us. He was our best chance."

"We ought for Tim's and Jonquil's sakes." With mounting anger Ray said "Doesn't anybody realise what those women on the bus were doing? They were blessing just you three."

"Unless they were trying to fend us off."

"Don't say things like that, Sandra. Don't even think them." He took her hand and told himself it didn't feel even marginally less substantial than it should. "I wish somebody had seen what I saw under the monastery," he said. "That might have convinced them."

"What are you saying you saw?"

"Remember Irene on the train said the oldest folk took refuge there. When everybody else had gone back up I saw one run off into the dark." Ray took a firmer grip on Sandra's hand as he said "I can't tell you how old it was. Maybe as old as the marks on the wall of the cell."

Sandra matched his grasp for fierceness. "Do you think that's where I'll have to end up?"

"Of course I don't, and you won't be," Ray vowed. "You're coming home with me."

"If they'll let us go."

"Why wouldn't, wouldn't anyone? What's making you say that?"

"Evadne said they often cancel trips off the island, didn't she? Maybe William and Jonquil were right and they mean to keep anyone they want here."

His panic didn't quite rob Ray of thoughts, so that he was able to realise "We've seen people leaving. Certainly we'll be going home."

"Then Jonquil and Tim will, so we shouldn't have to worry about them after tomorrow night."

This only revived Ray's concern about the meantime. "We'd better go and find everyone," he said, "and let's try and think what we can do."

Did she brace herself in preparation for the sunlight as he opened the door? Surely she needn't when the sky was so overcast. As she followed him down the steps into the playground the eager faces showed their teeth at them. William was swimming up and down the pool in a flurry of ripples while his parents gave him their dutiful attention. They and the others were lying on sunbeds, and Tim and Jonquil each had the shade of an umbrella. Both wore hats and sunglasses, and Ray was tempted to declare why, but how could he while William would hear? "Sorry we kept you all waiting," he called instead.

"Blame me," Sandra said. "Another sleepy start. I expect I must be slowing down."

Ray sensed how relieved Doug and Natalie were that she seemed to have reverted to normal. William swam to the near edge of the pool and grabbed the top rung of a ladder. "How long are you going to live, gran?" he said.

For some moments there was silence while quivering ripples dissipated around him, and then Julian said low but harshly "Is that your doing, Jonquil?"

Jonquil turned her unreadable lenses towards him. "What am I supposed to have done now?"

"And Timothy's as well. I believe you undertook not to tell anyone."

"I didn't," Tim protested.

"Tell us what?" Jonquil pleaded. "Tim, what's wrong?"

"He heard someone say I was dying," Sandra said. "Don't worry, you haven't got rid of me yet."

"We don't want to," Jonquil cried, struggling to control the shape of her mouth.

"He heard me." With a visible effort Doug added "I hope I was wrong."

"You know you were now," Sandra said. "We just told you why upstairs."

As Ray saw Doug and Natalie avoid looking at each other William said "Why, gran?"

"Perhaps somebody comes in the night, William, and adds to my life."

Julian's face made his disbelief plain, and so did his outstretched hands. "Sandra, what on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Only answering William's question, aren't I, William?"

"Are we going to see you at Christmas, gran'?"

"I'm sure you will if my extra life keeps up. Is that what you'd like?"

"How can you ask him that?" Jonquil said indistinctly, knuckling her eyes behind the sunglasses.

"I'm asking everyone." When this prompted a chorus of silence—Ray didn't trust himself to speak—Sandra said "I'll just have to invite it myself, then.'"

"What, gran?" William said.

Julian opened his mouth like a mime of incredulity and an exhortation of muteness, and Sandra glanced at him. "It's all right, William," she said. "I'm sure your dad and uncle will see you aren't bothered in the night,"

For a moment Ray was as appalled by her behaviour as he imagined everybody else must be, and then he grasped what she was trying to achieve on behalf of Tim and Jonquil. Last night Doug and Julian had kept any visitors away from them, and tonight they would as well. "They'll have to," he said.

As Doug sent him a mute reprimand Sandra said "So what are we doing today?"

"We may as well stay where we are now," Doug said.

If Ray had thought he mightn't have remarked "That doesn't sound like you, Doug."

"I could use a lazy day, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who's tired," Doug told him, but Ray guessed this wasn't the whole of the truth. He had an inkling that his son meant to keep him and Sandra away from anywhere and anything they could interpret in terms of their secret belief. It wasn't so secret any longer, and yet he felt more oppressed by the unspoken than ever. The cloudy sky seemed to adumbrate the dark, but it was worse than that, and Doug couldn't distract him. It reminded him why his wife and Tim and Jonquil didn't welcome the sun.

"Was that you, mum?" Doug called. "What did you say?"

Sandra leaned out of her chair and over the balcony. "Was what me?"

"I can't hear you properly. I'll come up."

Ray blinked at the view. While half a dozen people were swimming in the sea near the apartments, the shore was deserted all the way to Sunset Beach. "What did he think he heard?"

"Maybe..." Ray might have thought Sandra fancied someone unseen was at large beneath the pale overcast sky until she said "Maybe he's starting to imagine things if he's been up all night."

"You did what you thought you had to," Ray said, having seen that she blamed herself. "I don't know what else we could have done."

"At least there's only one more night and then they'll be safe at home."

"They will," Ray said, though it reminded him that he didn't know how leaving the island might affect her.

He opened the door to save Doug from knocking and was greeted by a gaping yawn. "How was your night?" he said.

"How do you think?" Doug said not far short of resentment, "The same kind Jules had."

"No encounters, though."

"None of those," Doug said as if the point needn't have been made. "I've got to speak to mum."

Ray hoped he didn't mean to try again to persuade her that she was mistaken. Outside the bathroom Doug said "Did Evadne change your mirror?"

"There's no need," Sandra said. "Have another look."

"I've already seen, thanks." Doug might have intended to rebuke them both by saying "Keep it how it is if that's what you want."

"You still haven't explained why we had to ask for them," Sandra said.

"Why don't you ask Evadne if you're so anxious to know?" At once Doug looked ashamed of his curtness. "On second thoughts leave it alone," he said. "We don't want her telling you more of that stuff."

"Maybe if you listened to her—"

"I won't be, and you shouldn't. Forget I said you ought." Doug had lowered his voice. "Let's not go on about it where people can hear," he said. "Nat and I have just been talking. Mum, you've lost some jewellery."