The Uninvited

by Clive Harold

  By Clive Harold

  Edited by Donald Coulder

  First published in 1979 by the Paperback Division of W.H. Allen & Co. Ltd with the original ISBN 0 352 30350 6

  The names of several individuals mentioned in this book have been changed to protect their privacy. However, all facts and events, as far as we have been able to verify them, are accurate.

  The original persons and author have not endorsed this edition.

  Cover Illustrations and designs by Cask J. Thomson (http://caskthomson.com)

  Copyright © 2015 WordMean Publishing on behalf of the author and content creators. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations references.

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  PROLOGUE

  The story you are about to read is true, though you will doubt it. With good reason. This is the story of an ordinary family caught up in the extraordinary, for whom the impossible became possible, the unbelievable became believable, and science fiction became science fact. You will find no explanations for the events reconstructed here, for there are none. What took place was as beyond explanation as it may seem beyond belief. And still is.

  It would doubtless be reassuring - even comforting - to be able to dismiss the phenomena involved as being the product of an elaborate hoax, or of over-imagination, or hallucination or mistaken identity, yet the number of reliable witnesses and the amount of physical evidence involved would seem to confound such cosy explanations.

  Nobody can say for sure exactly what happened to the Coombs family, least of all the family themselves. All that they, their relations, their friends and their neighbours can say for certain, is that it did happen. Until now, the people involved have been reluctant to tell the whole story, fearing ridicule and having nothing to gain from such revelations but notoriety. That situation remains the same, but they now feel that their experiences are potentially too significant and too far-reaching in their implications to be overlooked. They no longer worry whether their story is believed or not, for they know it is the truth and have condoned the writing of, this reconstruction in the sincere hope that others - the' authorities in particular may profit from its telling. They feel - as maybe we all should that we ignore such phenomena at our peril.

  ONE

  January 14th 1977

  It began with a bright light, high in the night sky. To begin with, Pauline thought it was a flare, so bright and fiery it seemed compared to the stars that surrounded it, studying it closer, she wasn't so sure. Within a 20-mile radius of the farmhouse - set in splendid isolation the cliff top overlooking St Bride's Bay - was the Brawdy Royal Air Force Base, a Royal Aircraft Establishment Missile Range, numerous supersonic low flying corridors, the Army's Pendine Tank Range and an can Navy submarine tracking station. In the eight years that she and Billy and the children had lived at Ripperstone Farm, she'd seen every conceivable sort of light sky - everything from flares to jet fighters and missiles -but never anything like this.

  The washing up could wait, she thought to herself, putting dish cloth to one side, leaning over the sink and cupping her hands around her eyes against the inner glare kitchen light, to get a better view. A quarter of a mile away it must be, she reasoned, just hovering there over the field nearest the cliff edge, a giant ball of fluorescent light with a tail of flame stretching out behind it. Definitely not a plane or a missile or even a flare, for there was no movement. A comet, or ball lightning, perhaps, she'd seen them before. This was nothing like it. Queerest thing she'd ever seen and funny how it just seemed to have appeared from nowhere. And now... that swaying motion. Gently. Like a pendulum. Back and forth. To and fro. Like it was watching her, waving to her.

  She should call Billy. He might know what it was. But wait…it was moving now slowly, now faster, down out of the sky towards the cliff edge. And gone.

  Damndest thing she'd ever seen. She cursed herself for not calling Billy earlier. It must have been there for nearly twenty minutes. She'd better call him now, though. It must have been a flare of some sort, there was no other explanation. A ship from Milford Haven might be in distress near the cliffs. If it was, Billy would have to call the coast-guard.

  She smiled to herself. He'd know what to do about it, but he wouldn’t want to do it. Not now. She knew, all too well, what she'd find in the front room and padding quietly across the hall and looking around the door, she was right. There he was, as ever, in the same old armchair by the window, in front of the television, stockinged feet crossed neatly in front of him, Wellington boots discarded nearby, head back, mouth open and snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

  'Bless him,' she thought. It was the same thing every night, but it was hardly surprising. He worked hard, did her Bill, and never more so than during this month of the year. She was as glad as he was that the calving season was nearly over. From October to March he hardly slept at all. His day would start at five in the morning and not finish until two o'clock the following morning. As well as the normal daily routine of milking the herd and cleaning the machines, ploughing, fertilising and fencing, he also had to stay in with the 100-strong herd until the early hours of every morning to watch over the mating and to pamper the pregnant members of the herd, taking their food to them, constantly re-bedding them and eventually delivering their calves. Small wonder he needed to catch up on lost sleep now. She shook him gently. Nobody was normally more jovial or easy-going than Billy, but not after rude awakenings.

  'Sorry to wake you, love,' she whispered, 'but something's happened that you ought to know about.' 'What's that, girl,' he grunted uninterestedly. 'Queerest thing I ever did see,' she told him, 'dirty great big light in the sky, all afire it was, came down on the coast path, just a minute ago...

  'Fire? What fire?' Billy rubbed the sleep vigorously out of his eyes. 'What are you on about, love?'

  Pauline described what she'd seen in greater detail. 'Pass my boots, I'd better go take a look. And put the kettle on. I'll be needing a cuppa when I get back. It'll be damn freezing down there...

  She watched him leave and then went back to the kitchen. She'd put the kettle on for tea. He certainly would need warming when he got back, the wind whipping across the cliff tops like it did. But first she'd finish the washing up. It was a good two-mile walk down the coast path and she had plenty of time.

  She looked out of the window again, up into the sky, half expecting to see the light again. But there was nothing. Inky blackness, with just the lights of Broad Haven twinkling across the bay. What, she wondered, would Billy find down there? She felt a chill run inexplicably down her spine, then dismissed the feeling. She'd be glad when he got back, though. She'd better get the tea on. She timed it well. No sooner was it ready than she'd heard the front door open.

  Billy - woollen hat as always perched on the back of his head, his swarthy frame shivering with the cold, his boots spattered with mud - was standing there, stamping the warmth back into his feet and scowling fiercely.

  'Well, I don't know what you saw, or thought you saw,' he grumbled, but with a wry grin, 'there's absolutely nothing down there now, as far as I could see with a torch, anyway...

  She helped him off with his coat. 'Nothing at all?' Pauline couldn't believe her ears. 'I'll be blowed. You'll be thinking I'm daft. Well, I'm sorry, love, but I know what I saw...

  Billy gave her a squeeze. 'Never mind all that now, girl. Quick, there's that tea? Lead me to it, before my blood freezes...!'

  He started to chuckle, but stopped when he noticed the se
rious expression on Pauline's face.

  'Listen, Bill, seriously, you better go down and have another look in the morning, first thing. Will you, please?' He nodded. It would have been pointless to argue, in any case. Sixteen years of marriage had taught him that when Pauline had a bee in her bonnet about something she wanted done, it had to be done. He took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen. Strange, he thought, how troubled she seemed to be. Unlike her. Normally nothing worried her unduly, not even the kids at their naughtiest. She shrugged off such things. And what was there to worry about anyway? He had his tea in silence, contemplating the thought, while Pauline laid the table ready for breakfast the following day. Breakfast time was always pandemonium in the Coombs' house-hold, what with Billy having to be up at 5.30 for milking; her eldest boy, Clinton, getting up shortly after to get to work at the farm next door; her other son, Keiron, and his twin sisters, Joann and Layann, getting up at 8 o'clock for school. She looked at her watch. It was gone midnight. Time for bed. She'd go on up ahead of Billy and leave him to put Blackie, their labrador, out for the night and then lock up. She'd sleep well tonight. It had been a long day.

  Pauline rolled over restlessly and looked at the clock again. Three thirty-five. Billy's snoring was irritating her in a way it never normally did. But it wasn't that that was keeping her awake. It was that damn light. She couldn't rid herself of the memory of it, hanging there in the sky, swaying back and forth, to and fro, like it was waving to her, watching her. She didn't understand what it all meant but somehow she had the feeling she hadn't seen the last of it. This was just the beginning of something. But what?

  The thought troubled her, until sleep at last overtook her.

  MORE WELSH UFOs A predicted increase in UFO sightings over South Wales has proved correct and there have been more sightings during the first fortnight of the New Year.

  Pauline put the Western Mail down on the breakfast table and sat slowly back in her chair, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Was it possible? Could that have been what she'd seen? She didn't believe all that Flying Saucer rubbish but then again... She read on.

  “Reports from as far apart as Haverfordwest and Pontypool refer to bright lights and mysterious objects being seen in the sky. All the sightings will be fully reported to the

  British Unidentified Flying Object Research Association. The regional coordinator for BUFORA in South Wales has received five reports of sightings within the last seven to ten days, including a bright light apparently landing in a field near Haverfordwest, cigar shaped objects near Burry Port and of a

  machine seen in the air over Milford Haven.”

  Pauline poured herself another cup of tea and stirred it contemplatively, her gaze wandering out of the window to the rolling fields beyond, and she savoured the stillness in the house, now that Billy and Clinton were at work and the kids were at school. A bright light apparently landing in a field? Could it possibly be the same thing, or the same sort of thing that she'd seen? Maybe she ought to tell these 4 BUFORA people about what she'd seen. But would they believe her? It had been a couple of days since she saw the light, she'd seen nothing else since then and Billy had found nothing unusual when he'd looked down there. Perhaps she'd do better to keep quiet about it? Anyway, Billy would be back in a minute with Clinton for their mid-morning cup of tea she'd ask them what they thought, though she knew already what Billy's reaction would be. Clinton? He was so shy and introverted he'd probably just shrug and say 'Wouldn't know really' in his customary fashion.

  'Flying Saucers? Think you saw a Flying Saucer, do you? Bloody nonsense, girl,' shrieked Billy when she showed him the paper, just like she knew he would, 'don't talk so wet you've been reading too many comics!' Pauline shrugged and found herself laughing with him, against herself. 'Mind you,' he said suddenly, interrupting the laughter, 'something damn strange has started going on along the coast path. I was just down there, near the spot where your light thing came down a little bit further along from where I was looking to see if there was anything unusual and found nothing - and the place is absolutely alive with unmarked army trucks, soldiers in camouflage uniforms and about fifty frogmen. When I asked one of the frogmen what they were up to, he tells me there's been a landslide there and they were there to build the coast path back, but that's all he could tell me and I couldn't go any closer. Strangest carry-on, it is - the army rebuilding a coast path and the navy rebuilding the same path at the same time, but underwater! They reckon they'll be there for a week, too! Beats me what they're really up to. Probably something to do with that American submarine tracking place. They're probably laying cables or something.

  Pauline nodded in agreement but remained unconvinced. By the quizzical look on Billy's face as he sipped his tea and then left to get back to the milking sheds, she could see even he wasn't convinced by his own explanation.

  She followed him out of the back door and watched him walk around the Corner into the drive. Strange that Clinton hadn't turned up. He was normally so punctual. She went back into the kitchen to freshen the pot. As she looked out of the window, back at the view over the cliffs that she knew so well, her mind started wandering, assimilating the facts. Logic told her to dismiss any thoughts of UFOs or suchlike. If the authorities were so interested in it - and surely it couldn't be a coincidence that they were so interested in the precise spot it came down - then it must have been something to do with the Army, Navy or Air Force.

  She jumped when Clinton came up suddenly behind her. 'What's the matter, Mum? Seeing little green men in the garden this time?'

  'Tea up, is it?'

  She gave him a playful cuff around the ear. 'I've told you before, Clint, don't DO that. You frightened the life out of me... She poured the tea. 'And listen, young man, none of that silly talk around Keiron or the twins. You don't want to be giving the youngsters ideas, or frightening them, do you?'

  She could tell by his expression that he wouldn't have minded in the least, but he understood and agreed. He was a good lad. Sixteen he was and growing fast; responsible for his age and remarkably mature with his brothers and sisters, even when impossibly teased.

  'Seriously though, Mum - you don't actually believe any of that stuff about flying saucers do you? Honestly?'

  "Course not, Clint; don't talk so wet...'

  He gave her a curious sidewise look and she managed a sarcastic smile in return. Just.

  TWO

  DALE - 13 miles. Pauline sighed and smiled when she saw the sign. Nearly home. She was tired and looking forward to getting back, but she never minded having Duggie Richards - Keiron's best

  friend from school - over to the farm to play with hint and the twins. It kept them all out of her hair on a Saturday, and as that was the only day that Billy took off during the week and the only time they seemed to get a chance to spend any real time together it suited her admirably to have them out in the fields messing around and not careering around the house bothering everybody.

  She looked at her watch. Just gone eight. They were making good time. She had promised the kids they

  could come along for the ride when she took Duggie home, and then watch The Six Million Dollar Man on TV at 8.35, when they got back. If they missed the beginning of it, they'd never forgive her.

  'We going to be in time, Mum?'

  She looked at Keiron, next to her in the passenger seat, and smiled. He must have been reading her mind. 'Just right,' she assured him, glancing over her shoulder at the twins who were being uncommonly quiet in the back seat of the old Zodiac.(insert picture)

  'But straight to bed afterwards, mind? All right?'

  'Nearly straight afterwards,' insisted Layann - always the more

  mischievous of the twins - as she nudged Joann into a

  sheepish grin.

  'You're a baby and babies shouldn't even be up at this hour,' teased Keiron.

  'Keiron, enough…’ Pauline gave him a nudge and winked. He was a rascal sometimes, was Keiron, the way he teased the girls, bu
t he often got as good as he gave. Not far now, she thought, sweeping the car around the last wide corner that would take them along the final seven mile stretch of gloomy country road to Ripperstone Farm. Billy would have the fire roaring in the (fire-) grate by now and if he hadn't fallen asleep in front of it, he would also have put the kettle on. He and Clinton would already have fixed themselves something to eat, with a bit of luck, so there would be nothing to do when she got back but put the kids to bed after The Six Million Dollar Man and settle down to watch a bit of television herself - providing it was still working, of course. How on earth two television sets could have overloaded and burned out all their wiring in a matter of two weeks was a complete mystery to her - as it was to the five repair men who had, between them, tried to fix/ mend them. The second set was electronically tuned, too. They'd put over a hundred new parts into that set, but it still wouldn't work. Must be something to do with the wiring in the house, she mused. She must remember to get an electrician in to look the house over.

  She glanced at the rear view mirror. Layann had fallen asleep on Joann's shoulder. That was a blessing. She could put her straight to bed when they got in and that would be one less child to have to persuade to go to sleep.

  Never mind her joking about it; Layann, in particular, needed coaxing to bed at the moment, after the bad dreams she'd been having. Poor love, she thought, waking up like that, screaming and crying. Strange how it had happened twice and both times a television had overloaded and its wiring burned out the same night. She'd had the same dream on both occasions, too - a giant shadowy figure waking her and then drifting noiselessly out of the room, across the landing and into her and Billy's room opposite. Pauline had never seen any of the kids as frightened as Layann had 'been on those two nights - and so insistent she was that she hadn't dreamed what she'd seen, but that it really had happened. Billy had eventually got quite angry with her for frightening the rest of the kids. As he tried to explain to her at the time, she must have been dreaming because if there had been anyone in the house - in either her and Joann's room, or the boys' room next door, or in her and Billy's room opposite - somebody would certainly have seen them when she started screaming and everybody rushed in to see what was the matter. Layann wouldn't listen, though. She was, she said, absolutely certain she was wide awake on both occasions. Since then she'd insisted on sleeping with her and Billy.