Descension

by Shani Struthers

  At the table, Kirsty and John waited on them. They wouldn’t hear of Cash or Ruby getting up to help with the dishes. Afterwards more tea was served back in the living room where Ruby glanced at pictures of young children in photo frames – modern children, grandchildren clearly. My nieces and nephews, she thought, her sense of wonder continuing. When Kirsty and John finally left – they lived very close by, Kirsty had taken great pains to point out – Peter showed them to the room they’d be sleeping in and bade them a good and restful night.

  In bed, Cash held her, but there was still a distance between them. When she asked if he thought the evening had gone well, he just shrugged.

  “It’s early days, Rubes, but yeah, I think so, all things considered.”

  His cautious reply grated slightly, but he redeemed himself somewhat by adding, ‘He really seems to like you.’ She was thrilled he’d also noticed that.

  In the morning, she, Cash and Peter had breakfast together in the conservatory, a far more relaxed affair with just the three of them. There were more framed photos in the conservatory, a woman in them this time, with reddish hair. It was the first time she’d seen any photos of Laura, but here she was in all her glory, two headshots rather than full views, the camera catching the loveliest of smiles. There was an innocence about her, Ruby decided, which gave rise to mixed feelings. As glad as she was to find her father, that Peter and Jessica had deceived this woman made her somehow feel culpable too. Had Laura been aware of her husband’s affair? Had she even had the faintest suspicion? Ruby longed to go over to one photo in particular, depicting Laura and Peter with a young Kirsty and John; to pick it up and examine it, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. The four of them seemed so happy in that photo, creating even more strange emotions – a feeling of exclusion perhaps; a realisation that she’d never belong to the family no matter how hard she tried. She shook her head. It was no use being negative. As Cash had said, it was early days, really early days, and maybe from them a wealth of possibilities could spring.

  Breakfast finished, Cash took their holdall to the car, lingering there tactfully to give Ruby and Peter some space to say goodbye, which she was grateful for.

  “It’s been lovely having you here,” Peter said, “I hope you didn’t mind me inviting Kirsty and John.”

  “It’s fine, it was a great evening.”

  “It was indeed. It was magical.”

  Ruby wasn’t sure she’d have used that word but she was supremely pleased he thought so and even more chuffed when he made the first move to hug her this time. So chuffed, in fact, she had to fight back tears. Don’t cry, Ruby, just… don’t cry.

  Eventually he released her. “You’d best get going, that young man of yours – a very nice young man,” he added, a touch of surprise in his voice, “is waiting.”

  “I’m glad you like him.”

  “Does he come from good stock?”

  For a moment she had to think what he meant. “Good stock? You mean his family? His mother’s lovely.”

  “And his father?”

  “He’s estranged from his father.”

  “Oh?”

  “He left the family when Cash was little more than a baby. They have had contact, though,” she assured him. “A little bit of contact anyway.”

  “Shame. But it happens; we know that. I’m glad at least that we’ve found each other.”

  I found you, thought Ruby, but her smile was as wide as Laura’s nonetheless.

  As she turned to go, he called out. “Oh, Ruby, I’m sorry, I almost forgot.”

  She faced him again. “Forgot what?”

  “That date you wanted; the hospital building that’s going to be torn down?”

  Her heart quickened. “Oh God, did you manage to find out?”

  “I told you, police contacts can work wonders, even ex-police. It wasn’t Rob Lock I spoke to, it was his secretary, and she was very forthcoming indeed.”

  “When is it?” Ruby asked, barely able to breathe.

  “Well, you’re going to have to move fast, young lady. By this time next week, it’ll all be gone; a pile of rubble. And it’s probably for the best… don’t you think? It’s all for the best.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cash agreed to drive whilst Ruby fired out a series of texts.

  “I must let Eclipse know. Theo, Ness and Corinna too.” Immediately she winced. Why had she said Eclipse’s name first? She should have been more tactful than that.

  “Don’t panic, Ruby, we’ll sort it out.”

  “In a week? Something as large scale as this? I admire your faith, Cash, but honestly, I’m really not sure. It’ll take a miracle to sort it out in a week.”

  Even Jed, riding shotgun and whining intermittently, seemed agitated at the prospect.

  Her phone pinged.

  “Who’s that texting you back?” asked Cash. “Theo?”

  “No, it’s Eclipse.”

  “Oh right, trust him to be the first.”

  Ruby saw red. “Cash! Can we just focus on the problem at hand, which is helping to release the spirits that are trapped in that building, or as many of them as we possibly can. Personally I’m grateful for his help.”

  “But he’s not psychic.”

  “Nor are you, but you tag along too sometimes, don’t you!” Damn! She’d done it again, put her foot in it. ‘Tag along’ was so demeaning. It was also untrue. Cash had been a real boon in the past. Trying to counteract the blow, she added, “This is his quest, remember? In some ways we’re all just tagging along.”

  “Whatever,” was Cash’s less than appeased reply. “What’s he saying, anyway?”

  “That he’s on standby.” It wasn’t actually true. What he’d said was that he was there for her day and night; that he’d do his utmost to protect her when they went inside again, and that he’d make that his priority. They were sweet words, well meant, but words that would incense Cash further if he ever saw them. Making sure he wouldn’t, she erased their conversation, a little peeved that she felt she had to.

  “Why don’t you phone the others rather than text?”

  “Good idea, I’ll do that. I worry that’s all, what with it being Sunday. Everyone’s entitled to a bit of time off.”

  “There’s a time you didn’t think so,” Cash pointed out, referring to her somewhat workaholic ways. But she’d tried to remedy that in recent months, not get so involved. Why he was taking pains to point it out now was beyond her.

  Bigger fish to fry, she reminded herself, dialling Theo’s number.

  “Theo, hi!” she greeted. “Did you get my text?”

  “Text? No, dear. I’ve been, well… resting.”

  “Resting?” She looked at the clock on the dashboard. It was nearly one in the afternoon. “Are you okay?”

  “A little tired, that’s all.”

  She sounded worse than tired, she sounded upset. Ruby hesitated, should she tell her the not so good news?

  “Theo…”

  “Yes?”

  She must be exhausted if she wasn’t even bothering to read her mind.

  “Rest up today if you’re not feeling great. Are you free tomorrow at some point to talk about Brookbridge?”

  “Yes, darling, of course, and I’ll continue to send love and healing today.”

  “Perfect, thank you. I’ll talk to the others; scrape a time together.”

  “I’ll wait to hear.”

  Ending the call, she phoned Corinna next, who said she was heading to Brookbridge in less than an hour, to sit with the spirit at the Barkers’ house, to try and befriend it some more. After that she was heading to the Griffiths’, to carry out the same task. Although busy today, she was up for a meeting on Monday, especially when Ruby mentioned the impending deadline.

  After they’d said their goodbyes, Ruby wondered whether to phone Ness, but decided against it. She’d text them all with a suggested meeting plan of ten o’ clock Monday morning. “Cash,” she asked, “what do you want to do this
afternoon?”

  “When we get back?”

  “Well, yeah, not while we’re driving!”

  He shrugged rather than laughed. “It depends. We can either go to the pub, watch a movie or I can clear some work so I’m free to help in the week if you need me.”

  The latter sounded like a sensible idea, even though she badly wanted to just curl up with him on the sofa and heal the rift between them; a rift that would widen if he knew what she had in mind.

  * * *

  With Cash back at his flat, where all his computers and displays were, enabling him to crack on with what he needed to do, Ruby was free to contact Eclipse. More headway had to be made urgently, and he was the only one she felt comfortable enough calling out during Sunday evening. The pair of them arranged to meet in the same spot as before.

  On the way over, Jed appeared in the passenger seat, a puzzled expression on his face.

  Ruby’s shoulders sagged. “I know, I know. I said I wouldn’t go to the asylum again, not without the rest of the team, but look, at least I’ve got Eclipse with me. The good thing is, he doesn’t seem to be affected by what’s in there. He’s not immune, I’m not saying that, but he’s not as vulnerable as I am. What I’m trying to say is he can get me out of there if it starts to get too much. He’s strong enough to physically carry me if he needs to. Besides which, Theo and Ness have been sending love and healing towards the building all day.” Whether this had had the desired effect or not, she’d soon discover.

  Spotting her as she hurried along the streets of Brookbridge towards the building, Eclipse picked up pace too. “I’m so glad you came, Ruby,” he said, hugging her. “Sometimes I think we’re the only ones who take this seriously, yeah?”

  “We’re not,” she assured him upon release. “My team do as well, but this isn’t the only case they’re working on. Ness and Theo are going through a particularly gruelling time at the moment.” She didn’t tell him that they were also involved with the estate at Ash Hill. “They need to rest and replenish their energy before coming here again. You can’t go in to a building like this unless you’re fully fired up.”

  “And what about you, you on top form?”

  She thought of the weekend that had just passed and the night spent at her father’s. Despite a bit of frostiness between her and Cash; despite Kirsty and John and their painfully obvious suspicions, she was on top form. In fact, she’d never been happier.

  Rather than explain fully, she nodded in reply and turned to face the building. Against the darkening sky, it looked so forbidding. Even the moon, which was a bright shining orb in the night sky, eschewed it. As for the tension in the air, she fancied you could reach out and grab it. Although all was silent, all was still, she wasn’t going to be fooled again. Remembering the din that had been in her head, how it had banged against the walls of her skull, she prayed it wouldn’t start up again. How she wished they could come here in daylight and not be so sly in their endeavours, but they couldn’t take any chances, not at this stage. She was glad her father had only talked to Rob Lock’s secretary instead of the man himself, to identify the date of demolition. Perhaps the boss man was still oblivious. Her father had said maybe it was for the best the building got pulled down as soon as possible, and in some ways she agreed, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do what she could for the grounded in the meantime. What was the sentiment? Save one, save the world? If she could form a proper connection with just one of them – send them to the light – it might just prompt the ‘herd response’ as Theo called it, encouraging others to follow.

  Spurred by that thought, she motioned to Eclipse to get moving. He fell into step beside her, his blonde hair as usual tied back, his coat of many colours buttoned up. The thought again crossed her mind, we’re the same but different. Would he be keen to work with her on future projects too? In terms of devotion he’d get the job, but what would it be like to have someone who was as passionate as her on the team, but essentially non-psychic? When it came to it, was passion enough?

  The dark woods at their back, Eclipse located the damage to the fence and held the flap of chain link up for her again. It was like a portal, a passage to another world. Straightening, she was about to take a step forward when an image filled her mind. There was a bed, surrounded by windows, but the room was dull and soulless despite them. The walls were grey – a relentless grey – and the curtains at the windows were as stained as the sheets. On the bed a dark and shapeless thing writhed. Was it even human?

  Furiously she blinked, tried to clear the image from her mind. It was happening too soon. She hadn’t even got through the doors of the asylum yet. But try as she might, the image – the vision – refused to abate. The figure, it was human; it had to be, but what was wrong with its limbs? Why was it so twisted?

  A voice screamed in her head.

  Don’t call me ‘it’! We’re treated like vermin. But we’re not! We’re human.

  “I’m sorry,” Ruby’s voice was loud too in response. “I didn’t mean to.”

  You! You’re no better than them!

  “I am. I’m trying to help.”

  There was such cruel laughter.

  You can’t help. You’re not qualified to help.

  “Who are you? Tell me your name. I can help.”

  “Ruby, Ruby, what’s happening?”

  The voice, the image fled. Once again, Eclipse had effectively broken the spell. She turned to him. “I made a connection, I don’t know who with. The trouble is no one will identify themselves. The only names we have are from those documents you found, but it doesn’t mean a thing, not really – there’s so many in there, we couldn’t remember everyone anyway. But if one person would tell me, just one, I could single them out; try to reach them further; persuade them to leave. But they won’t let me – I’m not qualified to help, apparently.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Ruby shook her head. “I don’t know, not for sure. But in appealing to one, we appeal to the masses. That’s the only way I can think of to deal with this.”

  To her relief, Eclipse didn’t question further; he seemed to understand what she meant, even if she herself didn’t, not fully. She’d dealt with troublesome spirits before, like the one in Gilmore Street, full of anger and despair; the one at Old Cross Cottage too and, of course, Highdown Hall, but in the main they were individual spirits. The building in front of her, that stood defiant in the face of its impending doom, contained hundreds. When the walls came down, where would they scatter?

  Another image forced her to her knees. A child, dressed not in bright or comfortable clothing, but in some kind of dressing gown. The smell of the institution clung to him; it seeped from the image into the air around Ruby, filling her nostrils, so much she thought she might choke. The child rocked back and forth, spittle dribbling from his mouth. Ruby wiped at her mouth too as saliva had formed there. Another figure now came into view: a woman in a nurse’s uniform. Ruby sensed a fondness in her for the child, a keenness to help. At last, she thought, some light amidst the darkness! A nurse, an angel, someone devoted to the cause, trying to help. She also sensed Eclipse wanting to know what was happening, but she held up a hand to stay him, not wanting this vision to be broken. Tell me your name, please. Give me your name. The child ignored her, ignored the nurse too, continuing to rock. He was another one declared 'feeble-minded’. A child locked within himself, whom no one could reach, not Ruby, and not the nurse. He’d constructed a silent world, the walls too high to scale. The image fading, Ruby cried out. She didn’t want him to go, to be lost again. In his place, there were several children; in a nursery with cribs like cages, they were crying and reaching out, but there were no arms to pick them up; no one doting on them. No children now, there was a woman like the one in the Watkins’ house, broken inside, life responsible for breaking her, and she being punished because of it. There were so many women, so many men. Image upon image flickered in her mind, like a black and white showreel gone craz
y.

  She felt hands on her, Eclipse was holding her shuddering body and she was grateful for it, grateful too that he remained silent. This process, this revelation, she had to endure it. So many wanted to show her how they’d suffered.

  But I need a name!

  There was another nurse, not kind or gentle like the first, she was a squat creature, brutish. Those on her ward were terrified of her temper, of displeasing her. There were doctors who strutted like gods and so many cowering before them. There was another dance – a song she recognised, La Vie En Rose – that ordinarily she loved, but not here, not in the confines of the asylum; ill-played notes serving only to capture the horror of the place rather than any sweet sentiment. A patient sang along. Give your heart and soul to me, And life will always be, La Vie En Rose.

  I only want your name!

  The singing patient opened his eyes to look at her, and in them she saw the tragedy of his lifetime; multiple losses, one after the other; all the dreams he’d had, that he’d nurtured, dashed against the rocks, to lie there broken and bloodied. Although it was hard to bear, she forced herself to keep staring.

  What’s your name?

  The man began to recede as if invisible hands were drawing him backwards. In his place someone else materialised – another man, who, in contrast, came closer and closer until his face was immediately before Ruby’s, his eyes boring into her.