The Uninvited

by Clive Harold

  'There they are, Mum - Stack Rocks,' he announced, pointing out to sea. (>)

  The little group turned, as one, and looked out from the clifftop to the outcrop of rocks, clearly visible in the bright midafternoon sun, the surf gently breaking around its perimeter. On such days, thought Pauline to herself, it looked particularly barren and beautiful - a great, undulating island of grey rock jutting defiantly out the ocean like a mighty twin-humped sea monster. No wonder everyone who saw it was captivated by its mystery.

  There was something strange about it, an aura of.... Nobody not even local Pembrokeshire folk who were normally so steeped in myth and legend – knew the history of the rock or whether it was of any significance. Yet it seemed special - at least to, those who knew it well. Plant life could proliferate on it

  - yet there was none; birds could have populated it - yet there were few; in stormy weather, the sea surrounding it would sometimes as inexplicably calm as a mill-pond; snow would settle on other coastal outcrops of rocks, but never on Stack Rocks - not even on its highest peak.

  Pauline stared long and hard at it, scanning her eyes along the length and breadth of it. She had already noticed the' rest of them studying the cliff face below and the bays and grottos that lay along its base, but she somehow knew where her attention belonged. How could it have been a coincidence that when any of them had seen a strange object either in the sky or on the ground, by day or by night, it had always ended up heading for this particular spot, then vanishing over the cliffedge? There must have been a reason and the only significant difference about this part of coastline was Stack Rocks. But in what way was it significant?

  She concentrated her gaze harder on the rocks. But there seemed to be nothing, no clue as to what had happened to the disc that had seemed, so clearly, to plummet straight into them only half an hour earlier. All that moved on them was the occasional gull. In fact as she watched, she could only see one solitary white bird, midway up the highest protrusion of rock. There, she could just see it again, first it was moving into view, then it was gone. And now back again.

  But wait. Dear God, what was that? A white shape, moving about on the rocks, but that was no gull, it was a figure. A man? No, wait. .. she could see it clearly now what she'd seen before was only a fleeting glimpse of a limb, an arm or a leg... now she could make out the whole figure as it came into view, descending from a higher level on the rock and down to a flatter area at the water's edge... and it wasn't white, it was silver... a tall, silver-sulted figure...

  'MUM, LOOK - LOOK AT THE ROCKS...' Clinton had now seen it, too, and was shouting to her from a few yards further down the coastal path. 'CAN YOU SEE IT? SEE THE MAN?' he was shouting.

  'I SEE IT,' she called, looking quickly back to the rock as Tina, Keiron and the twins gathered around her. 'Who is it? What do you think it's doing?' Keiron was gabbling next to her, pushing his way past the twins to get a better view.

  'Kei, be still - just keep quiet and look,' Pauline instructed him, as she tried to concentrate on what she was seeing. The figure was now quite clearly in view, even at that distance; it must, she reasoned, be enormous.

  Visions of the figure at the window flooded back. Yes, he must be same size - something like ten, maybe twelve feet tall. And that silver clothing - the same. But what was he – it - doing? She couldn’t make it out... crouching, it was crouching, as if looking at something, or for something? She turned to Clinton, who was now standing next to them, gaping at the sight in front of him, as they all were: Clint, what's he doing,' she asked him, 'can you make it out?'

  Clinton shook his head, then suddenly grabbed her arm excitedly: 'Mum, look - up higher, higher up the rock above him. I don't believe it, it's a ... no, wait, it can't be...

  Pauline lifted her gaze upwards over the figure, up the slight incline of rock behind it, to a ledge a little higher up. And then she saw what had caught Clinton's attention. There, standing half shrouded in shadow, was another figure, the same as the first one.

  'Yes, love, I see it - another figure,' she acknowledged. 'No, not that, not just the figure,' he was insisting, 'but behind the figure. That's not a shadow he's standing in, a doorway honestly, look...'

  '-A what?' She gave him a quizzical, sideways look, then returned gaze to the rock. As she did so, the second figure moved forwards, out of the shadow. But wait. My God, Clint was right. Now the shadow was somehow moving, thinningout, gone. And in its place - a perfectly flat, metall-looking surface, glinting slightly in the sun. The figure was moving back again - and what had looked to her to be a shadow, was now spreading out behind him. It was a door. It had to be. A sliding door, first open, then closed, now open again to reveal the blackness within.

  But how could this be? She looked around her at the children. 'Did you all see that?' she found herself asking, helplessly. 'Did you see it, did you see what just happened?'

  They didn’t seem to hear her, talking amongst themselves as they now were. The distance that separated them from the extraordinary scenario that was unfolding before them, seemed to have given them courage. She looked back to the rock. The second figure had now emerged again from 'the door' for a second time and was making his way down to his companion at the water's edge. Once there, he stood motionless, apparently looking on. The first figure then moved along the water's edge: when he reached an inlet which blocked his path, he paused momentarily and, to her amazement, seemed to walk across the water for a few paces to the opposite side. Again she turned to Clinton to solicit confirmation of what she'd seen. She didn't have to ask.

  'Incredible....' Clinton was muttering to himself, 'this is bloody incredible...'

  She looked down at the twins - still one under each arm - and then behind her to where Keiron and Tina were standing. All were silent now, struck dumb again by what they'd seen. Thank God they had seen it, though. To have witnessed this on her own, and then had to live with it for the rest of her life with nobody else believing her, would have been too much to bear. Now, at least, there would always be five other people who could swear to have seen the same thing.

  The two figures were now making their way up the lower face of the rock towards the ledge and the door above. Strange, she thought, how effortless their assent was - like they were almost floating over the surface of the rock face. And now they were by the door again, just standing there, so tall, so motionless, just looking out to sea, across to the cliffs... across to them?

  Panic suddenly took hold of her. 'Come on, kids, right nowlet's go, quickly, as fast as you can,' she found herself shouting at them, bundling the twins off down the coastal path and waving to Clinton, Keiron and Tina to follow her.

  Clinton ran up next to her: 'What's the matter, Mum? Why the panic?' he was asking her, breathlessly. “Don't be so bloody stupid, Clint,' she snapped at him, we could see those, those... whatever they were clearly, they must have been able to see us, right? We don’t know who they are, what they are, where they come from, or what they want. If they're not friendly, what then - and us stuck out here on our own?' Clinton nodded.

  'Just make sure Keiron and Tina stay with you and don't about,' she urged him, 'we've got to get home as quick as possible...' She patted him on the back and smiled encouragingly -not convincingly. If she had originally felt vulnerable in these wide open spaces on the cliffs, she now felt even more unsafe, the expanse of pasture ahead of them seeming to stretch away into infinity, and home never having so far away.

  On, across the field they stumbled, up the perimeter path of the next field, into the farm yard, up the drive and, finally, into the security of the farmhouse.

  'Pauline? Is that you? Thank God you're all right, we worried sick, you were so long...' Her mother had come hurrying out of the kitchen when she heard the front door open.

  'It’s all right, Mum, we're all fine,' Pauline assured her, her a quick peck on the cheek. 'Help me get some tea for us all, will you?'

  She caught sight of her father: 'Dad, I'll be right in to give
you both a hand in just a minute, OK?' seeing h41is daughter's knowing wink, her father dutifully red her mother back into the kitchen and shut the door. Pauline turned to the children, now collected in the front room, still breathless and muttering nervously about what they'd just seen.

  Now listen to me,' she instructed them, 'I don't want of you to say ANYTHING about this to ANYONE. Do I make myself clear? Nobody outside this house is to be about it, all right? I'm going to tell your grandmother and grandfather about it now, in my own way - and then you can leave it to me to tell your father. And afterwards, as I said, I don't want you to breathe a word to anyone - clear?'

  She looked sternly at them, then bustled them all out of the room and into the kitchen. The moment Pauline's mother saw their faces she knew something was wrong. When the children had taken their mugs of tea and left the kitchen, she grabbed Pauline's arm and shook it fiercely:

  'Something happened down there, didn't it?' she demanded. Pauline told her everything, trying to play down as much of what they had seen as possible. The effect on both her parents was just as she had expected. They were shattered. The sound of Billy's arrival home came as a blessed relief. It was not a moment too soon. Her mother was so unnerved to hear what had happened, that she was already insisting to her father that they left immediately.

  Billy came hurrying into the kitchen with a worried look on his face. 'All right?' he nodded in greeting to Pauline's parents. 'Pauline? What's going on? What happened to lunch? The table’s not even laid. And what's up with the kids, they're sitting in the front room looking very sheepish... ?'

  Pauline took him to one side. Billy, looking even more puzzled than before, followed her out of the kitchen and into the hall. Shutting the door, she told him everything. By the time she had finished, he was shaking his head and cursing to himself. 'Oh hell, damn it, why the hell did it all have to start up again?' He was saying, over and over. 'I'd really convinced myself in the past few weeks that, well... you know... The words trailed away. He sighed and shrugged resignedly, burying his hands deep in his trouser pockets and slumping down on a nearby chair. 'Your parents a bit shaken up, then? And the kids, too?'

  Pauline nodded. 'What do you think we should do about it, tell the police - or what?' he went on. 'It beats me...' He shrugged again, his eyes downcast. The telephone rang. Billy answered it, then held the receiver out to her. 'It's Rosa at the Haven Fort Hotel.'

  Pauline mouthed silent protests to him and waved the receiver away. She really didn't want to talk to anyone at that moment. But it was useless. She was already committed to speaking to Rosa.

  Rosa, hello love, how are you?' she asked, hoping the question wouldn't be reciprocated. Yes, I'm fine. Look, I had to call you to let you know that I've just seen. It's unbelievable, really - I could't believe my eyes. I was just looking out across St Bay through my binoculars - like I sometimes do, you know when I saw this silver, disc-like object come skimming over the fields just below your farm and then... well, it dipped down and went into Stack Rocks. It just went into them, Pauline, like... well, I don't know, like a door had opened in the rocks and it had gone inside. You will probably think I'm crazy, love, but that's exactly what it looked like. And that wasn't all… the more I kept looking at the rocks, the stranger it got. Shortly afterwards I saw these silvery figures walking about over coming down from a sort of door that kept opening shutting and shutting and then walking to the water's edge and again. It's incredible, I know, but that's what I saw, Pauline -honestly...'

  There was a long pause. Pauline eventually answered her. 'We don't need telling, Rosa - we already saw it all for ourselves. Tina, my parents and I were driving in the car when the disc flew towards the rocks and then the whole family went down the coast path and we saw the figures on the rock as well...'

  She could hear Rosa gasping with relief on the other end of the line: 'Thank the Lord, Pauline. I mean, I was beginning to think I'd been hallucinating or something. What are you going to do about it? I feel a bit awkward about it, seeing as how I own the rock, but... well... I mean, what can I do? What can you do? Who's going to believe any of this - I hardly believe it myself. If you hadn't all seen the same thing, I don't think I would be believing my own eyes...

  Another pause. Pauline eventually excused herself, promising to phone her back when her confused thoughts had settled. She turned back to Billy. 'Rosa saw it, too. She saw everything, love, from the hotel, through those binoculars of hers.'

  Billy didn't look up: 'So I gathered,' he mumbled to himself, then stood up suddenly. 'Right then, let's try and get a bit of normality back into the house...'

  He took her by the hand and led her into the front room. 'All right, kids, your mum's told me what you all saw. It is fantastic and a bit frightening, I know, but no more so than what we’ve already lived through. It's not the same for your grandparents, though - this is the closest they've ever been to whatever it is that's happening here. Remember that. When I fetch them in here, I don't want you all talking non-stop about it, all right? Try not to make anything of it, try and change the subject if you can. Don't upset them, OK?'

  There was no reply, just an embarrassed silence. Billy turned around; Pauline's parents were standing behind him. Before he could say anything, her mother leaned forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. 'It's all right, Billy, it doesn't matter,' she nodded, smiling slightly. 'If you could just run us back to Milford Haven now, I think that would be best. Do you mind, Pauline?'

  Pauline came over and kissed both her parents on the cheek. 'Of course not. Maybe that would be best...' She watched the children gather around her parents and was grateful that they weren't making too much fuss with their goodbyes. Though her parents were obviously anxious to get as far away from the farm as possible, and soon as possible, as soon she knew that her mother, in particular, wouldn't like leaving the family alone in such circumstances.

  'Ready, Mum? Dad?'

  Her parents nodded and with a final wave to the children now gathered at the window to watch them leave - they made their way out and her mother turned to Pauline at last moment and, hugging her, said: 'You shouldn't stay in this place, love. For your sake and for the sake of rest of the family, you should leave before the worst happens...'

  And with that, they were gone. Pauline's gaze lingered on the lane long after the car had gone, leaving only a cloud of dust behind it. She suddenly felt vulnerable again, remembering with frightening clarity the night that light had chased her down that very lane - and the thought made her shiver. Turning back to the house, she could see the children's faces still framed in the window; the same window where that silver figure had stood that night and watched herself and Billy so intently.

  And now, after all these weeks, it was happening again. They whoever, or whatever they were - were back. She couldn't rid herself of the memory of those two solitary, silver-suited figures, standing on Stack Rocks looking back at her and the family. Had they seen them? How could they have failed to? But what were they doing there? What did they want?

  She looked up into the darkening sky of the gathering dusk, then down on to the horizon behind the house, from which she could just make out the distant shape of Stack Rocks looming out of the sea. (>ill.right>)

  Were they still there? Would they be back? For some explicable reason she felt that, despite her inclinations, she already knew the answer. Whatever was happening to them, wasn't over yet. Not by a long way.

  TEN

  Billy paused at the end of the path to catch his breath, but not for long. He was already later getting home than he'd intended. Dusk was already falling and he wanted to be home before it got dark. He looked around him. Gloom and shadow everywhere. He shivered. This place spooked him worse than ever at night. Thankfully they were now well into December, and mid-way through the calving season. He' was more grateful than ever about that; it meant it wasn't much longer that he'd have' to leave home every night at midnight to check the herd. Night time was no time to be out alone
these days and the cowsheds were no place to be. He'd never felt the same about the sheds since the night the herd had disappeared and materialised again at that neighbouring farm, and the morning when the sixteen cows had somehow been transported from one paddock to another in a matter of seconds.

  Was he imagining the aura the place had taken on since then? Surely not. It was different. Unpleasantly different. The cows were still in a state of perpetual aggravation, of course - still restless at night and stampeding into the electrical fences during the day, and they were still off their food and giving an abnormally low milk yield - but it went beyond that. The actual place itself felt different. The sheds and outbuildings were normally bitterly cold at night in the winter - chilled by the wind that blew in over the cliffs from the North Atlantic – but not this winter. The air around the farm buildings was now inexplicably warm at all times and unnaturally still. No wind ever seemed to blow there. And it was always so deathly quiet. For some reason, the rooks (crows/kraake) hadn't returned that year to cluster in the trees nearby and there were no starlings swallows swooping around in the skies like there used to be and should have been.

  He started on up the path, past the paddock enclosures and into the forecourt outside the cowsheds, the dim light the single bulb that burned constantly outside the building barely lighting his way. He'd check on the herd on his way home. Normally it would be routine, but not now – not with all that had been happening in recent weeks, ever sice Pauline and the kids had watched the figures on stackRocks. Ten days after that, at this time in the evening, he had checked on the herd just as he was about to do now, only to find they had disappeared again - every cow, all one hundred of them had gone. Every stall was securely shut, the cowsheds were firmly padlocked and chained, but the entire herd had vanished. The owner of one of the nearest neighbouring farms to Ripperstone Farm - Clover farm - had come rushing down to say the herd had suddenly appeared in the yard in front of his farm and were around up there. Billy had had to go and herd them back. Since then, the same thing had happened, at the same time of night, on three different occasions at intervals of ten days. Billy's nerves were now at breaking point and he was ready for any eventuality. It was just as well. His worst fears that he would permanently lose any of his stock - had been realised. Over the same period, two cow and three calves had vanished completely from securely fenced land, while the herd had been grazing in the lower field overlooking Stack Rocks where the twins had first seen the disc land and scorch marks had later been found.