by Clive Harold
Paul and Janet said nothing - neither had spoken since they had left the farm, so bewildered did they seem about the whole business - but they nodded in agreement. Billy left the car and walked quickly across the yard in front of the farmhouse, towards the sheds nearby. They were all empty, the cows who normally occupied them were obviously grazing out in the fields - like his should have been. Beyond the sheds, the paddocks. Empty again. He hurried back to the car.
'No, nothing there,' he told Paul and Janet, 'we'll try down the lane at Clover Farm. They must be there...' He glanced across at Paul, then over his shoulder at Janet and grinned, trying to disguise the inner nervousness felt. The expression was empty, though. He knew it -so did they. Until they found the herd, none of them would be able to relax. It wouldn't be long now, surely? They must be at Lower Ripperstone Farm.
Minutes later, his worst, hidden fear was realised. The herd wasn't there. He searched every building, looked into very paddock, even walked into the fields behind the farm. Everything was just as it should have been and his herd was nowhere to be seen. He'd have to look elsewhere. But where, for God's sake?
He walked slowly back to the car, the stillness of the deserted farm belying the growing panic he felt inside. What would he tell Paul and Janet? Where should they look next? What if he never found them - they were his livelihood, he'd be ruined...
'We'll keep looking. Don't worry, Billy - we'll find them....' Paul was trying to sound encouraging as they weaved their way down the back lanes but the more that he and Janet tried to reassure him, the more panicky he began to feel.
Two hours went by. He lost count of how many times his gaze scanned fields full of cows that were never his, and of how many local houses, farms and homesteads they paid fleeting and fruitless visits to. And now they were back where they started - outside Dale Farm again.
Billy pulled the car into the lay-by opposite the farm trance and turned to Paul. 'That's it. We've covered everywhere,' he told him, 'they're gone for good this time...'
Paul didn't seem to hear him, so intently was he looking at something across the road. Billy looked to his right, following the direction of Paul's gaze…Then he saw them, too. The cows, milling around in front of the farmhouse. Dear God, they
were his cows he could clearly make out the green and
yellow tags on their ears. Hurling the door of the car open, he rushed across the road to confirm the fact, Paul and Janet close on his heels. Yes, it was them. He looked around frantically for Martin Chambers, the farmer, who would surely be able to give him an explanation as to how they had got there.
Behind him, he could hear Janet trying to badger an explanation out of Paul: 'But we looked here before, Billy searched everywhere here,' she was insisting, 'they weren't here before, how can they be here now?'
Paul was saying nothing. How could he, thought Billy. There was, as ever, no explanation. Where the hell was Martin? He walked across to the farmhouse, but hadn't got there before he heard Martin's voice from the side of the house.
'Billy - there you are. What the hell's going on here? What on earth are all your cows doing up here again? All one hundred of 'em suddenly appeared in the yard. One minute they weren't here, next minute they were all over the place...
Billy looked blankly at him. What could he tell him? It was just as before. He'd have to lie. 'Got a new stable boy,' he told him, 'he was supposed to be herding the cows to a newer pasture for me - leaving me to entertain our house guests over there but he obviously got confused, let the herd get out of control or something. He's probably panicked and gone back to the farm and is waiting for us right now. I'd better get moving...' He patted the puzzled farmer on the back, and hurried back to where Paul and Janet were already gathering the cows together at the entrance to the farm, and making ready to herd them down the drive and back to where they belonged. It was a full half hour before the three of them managed to get the nervous animals the half mile home and safely locked in the paddocks again. None of them spoke during that time, though they knew they all shared the same sense of bewilderment over what had happened. Billy was aware of how mixed his feelings were, how confused and fragmented. He felt, at one and the same time, amused by the ridiculousness of the situation that had just confronted him at the farm, frightened by the implications of what had happened, and relieved that everything had turned out all right. Though he didn't ask them, he felt Paul and Janet shared the same feelings.
Pauline was waiting on the porch of the house, surrounded by the children, when they got back. She'd put their lunches in the oven to keep them hot and in no time they were sitting in the kitchen eating the welcome meal whilst reliving the experiences of that morning. The meal was barely over when they heard the knocking at the front door.
Pauline went to answer it and came back looking stunned. 'It's Martin Chambers,' she announced, her voice to almost a whisper, 'he says the herd is back at his farm again...'
Billy stared at her, but made no reply. Nobody else in room spoke, but just looked incredulously at one another.
'Billy. . ?' There was a note of real panic in her voice now. Billy went over and put an arm around her. 'Back again? They're back again? But they can't be,' he insisted, 'it's a mistake, he's made a mistake. We just 'brought them back you saw us...' He looked around, at Paul and Janet, at the children, as to solicit agreement. There was none - just a sea
of bewildered faces.
'Where is Martin - outside?' Pauline nodded and followed him out into the hall.
'What's going on, Billy? What's happening? Why has it happened again - it's never happened twice before, like this...' He could feel her trembling and stopped mid-way to the front door to give her a squeeze.
'It's all right, love, it's a mistake,' he assured her, 'you misunderstood what he said, that's all...' He opened the front door and before either of them spoke, he knew by Martin's expression that there had been no misunderstanding. Martin confirmed the fact. Fifteen minutes after he had watched Billy, Paul and Janet herd the cows down the lane, he'd looked out of his window and seen them milling around in his yard again, just as before.
'You'd better check your fencing or the locks on your paddocks,' he grumbled to Billy. Billy promised he would -and that he'd be up to Dale Farm in a few minutes to bring the herd back. Martin seemed satisfied, but went off grumbling. Billy walked down the drive in the opposite direction, towards the paddocks to confirm what he already knew. Sure enough, there they were, securely padlocked and chained - just as he had left them, twenty minutes ago -but they were now completely empty.
He stood rooted to the spot for a moment, gazing blankly at them and shaking his head. How? Why? What was it leading to? How many times had he asked himself those questions? Was Paul right? Were they being teleported somehow by some unseen intelligence, for its own experimental purposes or in order to tell him something? It was too incredible. How could such things be happening?
He looked up into the overcast sky above him. What was up there? Was there some intelligence of some sort, watching him, right now? He dropped his gaze hurriedly and looked nervously around him, at the farmhouse up to his left, the paddocks in front of him, the outbuildings at the end of the drive to his right, the cowsheds looming up behind him. It all looked even bleaker than it normally felt, stiller and more sinister.
He looked at the ground around his feet - and noticed something that unnerved him still further. Since they had brought the cows back, it had rained. The ground was now muddy - yet the mud outside the paddocks was undisturbed. That meant only one thing; if any person, or animal, or animals had moved on this spot recently, they would have had to leave tracks. Yet there were none, except for Billy's footprints. The cows had gone but not by walking out of the paddock... He felt himself tense up even more than before, and looked around again nervously.
'Billy?' He looked around. Pauline was calling him from the house and beckoning for him to come over. She was quite right - he'd promised Martin that he'd go a
nd fetch the herd immediately. He'd better go. Pauline, bless her, had all the children into their warmest clothes and Welling-boots and they were already waiting for him, to give a hand. Keiron and the twins could help him, Paul and janet with the herding, while Clinton drove back the car, which was still up at Dale Farm. *
Pauline waited at 'the window for what felt like an eternity before she eventually saw Billy, the family, and Paul Janet appear in front of the house again, herding cows in front of them. She breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to the front door to wave to them, before going into the kitchen to put the kettle on for some much needed tea.
She had no way of knowing that it would be wasted again. Within ten minutes of being padlocked up again, the herd would vanish for a third time and rematerialise at Dale Farm.
ELEVEN
December 18th, 1977 The rear lights of Paul and Janet's car were finally lost from view as they sped up the drive away from the house and into the night. Pauline snuggled closer to Billy as they stood in the porch. It hadn't been a particularly cheery farewelk Billy and their guests - not to mention the children - had been exhausted coping with all the recurring business with the cows and by the end of the day, everyone's nerves were thoroughly frayed. The children, in particular, had been very frightened when the herd had disappeared for the third time and Billy had literally had to plead with them to go with him to help him bring them back. Later, the twins had fallen asleep downstairs on the sofa, so nervous had they been at the prospect of going upstairs to bed alone; Clinton and Keiron eventually had to agree to have an early night so that their sisters could feel safer with their brothers sleeping in the next room. Pauline had, in fact, been relieved to get the children out of the way; the collective nervous energy that everyone had been generating as they sat around pondering on what was happening, had created a terribly unsettling atmosphere. It was a slim hope, but maybe now that the rest of the family was asleep and their guests had gone – she and Billy could unwind a little.
Once inside, she made them both a cup of coffee and they stretched out in front of the fire in the front room, trying to savour the stillness in the house, but finding it didn't actually soothe them in the slightest - if anything, the silence surrounding them had a tense expectancy about it.
'I don't know if I can take much more of this, love,' Pauline eventually muttered to Billy. 'It was bad enough before, but now there's so much happening, so frequently, I just can't stand it. What if Paul was right - we're not only being studied, but we're being warned in some way to leave here? Either way, isn't it getting too dangerous here, now? Who knows what's going to happen next, or what it's all leading to? Anything might happen. If we are being studied, how long might it be before they start experimenting in some way with us? If by moving the cows they are trying to warn us to move because of some impending disaster, why have they now started doing it so much? Because the disaster, whatever it is, is going to happen soon?' She fell silent, her eyes downcast. Please don't cry, she herself - be level-headed and try and help Billy decide what to do for the best. She felt him move next to her on the sofa and put an arm around her. 'We don't know what's happening, or is going to happen love,' he whispered, 'but it does look like it's all get-far too close for comfort. Even the kids, who were getting to be far less frightened than they used to be, are now as frightened as they were at the beginning when all first started. I'm more frightened about what's happening to them - or might happen to them - than I am about anything else... She put her head on his shoulder and started to sob, unable to control her emotions any longer. so am I, love, so am I - oh, Billy, let's leave here, please, if only for their sake. Please, before it's too late.
He squeezed her to him and wiped a tear from her cheek. 'We will, love, we will,' he told her, 'tomorrow we'll making plans...' He stood up, pulling Pauline to her feet. 'But now, let's get to bed ourselves. Enough's enough one day - right?'
She managed a smile and followed him out of the room, turning out the light as she did so. Billy was right. Enough was enough. She wanted only to escape into sleep now and put the day behind her; besides, they both had a long day tomorrow - Billy at the farm and she back at work at the factory in Milford Haven for much of the day. Now - while he went down to the cowsheds to check on the herd - she'd make them both a cup of cocoa and lock up the house for the night. She watched him wrap up in his coat and hurry out into the night. He was checking on the herd two hours earlier than he normally would have done, or should have done. It wasn't like him to break the habits of a lifetime - it showed how deeply affected he was by everything. She sighed and went into the kitchen. As she waited for the milk to boil, she leaned on the edge of the sideboard and gazed out of the kitchen window, out across the dark fields to the twinkling lights of Broad Haven along the coast.
And this is where it had started, right here, on a night like this, she thought to herself. My God, if she'd only known then what she knew now. If the world only knew what they knew now. She finished making the cocoa and as she did so, heard the front door open. She met Billy in the hall and helped him off with his coat.
'Everything all right down there?' she asked him anxiously, aware that she was dreading the answer. 'Yes, love - fine,' he assured her, the nervousness he felt about going out alone at that time of the night registering clearly in his voice. 'Everything was in order, all the herd was there - but they're terribly restless, more so than they were earlier. I don't know, it's like they know something else is about to happen. If they could only speak, what a story they would have to tell!' He put an arm around her and chuckled, but there was no real humour there.
They went slowly up to bed, pausing for an instant to look into each of the children's rooms. The twins had left the main light on in their room, bless them. They were obviously too frightened to go to sleep in the dark. Even and Keiron, in the next room, had left their door open. Everyone, it seemed, was expecting something to happen -and fearing the worst. It was hardly surprising, Pauline thought to herself - not after the sort of day they had just all lived through. She looked around the door into the boys' rooin and watched them sleeping for a moment, before going through to join Billy. He was already in bed, finishing his cocoa, and was in the process of settling down to sleep. By the time she had undressed and snuggled in next to him, he was asleep. How she envied him the ease with which he always slept. No matter how tired she was, she never found sleep came to her that easily – and certainly not on a night like this, with all she had on her mind.
All the events of the day rushed through her mind again, as did Paul's theories about what it all might mean. And what now? Had Billy meant what he had said about the family leaving the farm? She hoped so. She wouldn't be sorry to leave, not now. Just think, it would be the family's last Christmas at the farm. Christmas? Huh... nobody really mentioned it, what with everything else they had on their minds, and it was only a week or two away. Never mind her job at the factory, packing everyone else's Christmas turkeys - what about theirs? She hadn't done any shopping at all. But who cared? What was more important was that the family was still around to enjoy the festitive season...
She finished her cocoa and put the mug gently on the table, reaching out for a cigarette as she did so. It was no use she wasn't in the least bit tired. What was the time? She glanced at the clock next to her: nearly mid-night. Maybe the cigarette would make her feel drowsy and help her sleep. She turned out the light and rolled over on to her back, taking a long pull on the cigarette and blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling, watching it spiral eerily upward and then dissipate in the shaft of light that was beaming in through the bedroom door from the landing outside. That damn light wasn't going to help her get to sleep, but she had agreed with the twins that she would leave it on tonight, and a deal was a deal. Mind you, if she'd known the light was going to shine straight through the door and on to her side of the bed, she wouldn't have been so magnanimous. She couldn't even shut the door to block it out, either. That was another condition s
he had agreed to - she'd leave their door open that night. She inhaled deeply on the cigarette and noticed her hand was trembling slightly. Memories of the silver-suited figure at the window suddenly flashed into her mind... and the tall shadows that Layann had seen entering this very room on two occasions and the silver hand that had touched her on the arm as she slept and later immobilised it...
She hurriedly extinguished the cigarette and then rolled over on to her right side, into her customary sleeping position, curled up and facing Billy's back, so they fitted together like spoons. She pulled the covers up a little, so that only her crossed forearms were visible on the pillow in front of her. Please - let her fall asleep soon...
*
Oh hell... it was useless. She adjusted her position slightly. The more she tried to sleep, the more awake she felt. And, somehow, the more agitated and nervous. That light from the landing didn't help, either, the way it shafted straight down on to her, sending a beam of light to illuminate her pillow like that. It just missed her face, thank goodness, but lit up the backs of her hands and her forearms as brightly as day.
She focused on the back of her hand, studying its contours, the pores in the skin, the blemishes, the perfect arrangement of little hairs. She smiled to herself. Why bother with counting sheep, when you can count the little hairs on the back of your hand? She let her gaze wander down and along her forearm. Funny, she thought, how such an isolated beam of light, in the dark on one spot, seems to bring everything into such relief. And what a light... it seemed be getting brighter all the time... dazzlingly so…
She should close her eyes for a second. It was obviously optical illusion, but perhaps you could strain your eyes king at something so closely in such conditions? She closed her eyes for an instant, then stretched the rs of one hand across the pillow and rubbed them gently. That was better. Or was it? Opening them again made the light seem all more dazzling. All she could see in front of her now the reflected glare off the whiteness of the pillow case beneath her, and the fleshy outline of her hand and arms crossed in front of her face... and, wait a minute, what as that? Strangest thing - like a transparent plastic tube some sort with what looked like a metal rod on the end it. Standing on her forearm, suspended over it, sticking it?
