Mirror Man

by Jacques Von Kat

  I jumped into wakefulness at a light tapping on my bedroom door.

  ‘Yeah,’ I croaked. I checked my watch. It was eleven p.m., though it felt much later.

  ‘Can I come in?’ asked Grandad.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, sitting up. I watched him in the mirror. His mouth sat in a tight line. He’d only ever worn the same look when my dad had been ill. I jumped from my bed.

  ‘Is something wrong, Grandad? Is it Tina? Is the baby okay?’

  ‘Tina and the baby are fine,’ he sighed. ‘Sit back down. I need to tell you something.’

  I frowned and lowered myself back onto my mattress. ‘Okay…’

  ‘The man in the accident today—Daniel. He died on the way to the hospital.’

  ‘But… but he looked okay,’ I said. ‘He only had a couple of cuts. I put a plaster on his finger and everything.’

  ‘It was all on the inside, John-Michael. Like when your dad was ill. We couldn’t see what was going on inside him, and that was the same for young Daniel.’

  Dad died before my tenth birthday due to complications caused by an undiagnosed stomach ulcer. I’d managed to get Tina to tell me a few years later. By the time the doctors had made a diagnosis, it had burst, and he died as a result of the infection that rapidly spread through his bloodstream, destroying his vital organs.

  I scrunched up my face and flopped back onto my pillow. ‘Oh, that’s not fair, Grandad. I thought I’d helped him. I told him he would be alright!’

  ‘Now, listen to me. Don’t go blaming yourself for this,’ he said. ‘What happened couldn’t have been prevented, and from what I hear from PC Williams, at least he had you to speak to before he lost consciousness. You should be proud he had someone with him in those moments.’

  My eyes settled on Bruce Lee. ‘Do you really think I helped him?’

  ‘Yes, I know you did, son. Now, as I’ve said, don’t you go thinking about this all night. It was an unfortunate accident. Okay?’ Grandad said.

  ‘Okay…’

  But it wasn’t okay at all. How could it be? I’d told Daniel he was going to be all right; he was no longer with us, and he’d never get to ride his scooter ever again.

  ‘I’ll see you in the morning, lad. Rest easy.’

  After Grandad left, I got ready for bed and slipped under the sheets. I felt terrible, worse than I’d ever felt, even more so than when Nana B and Dad died, and that had been the worst event in my short life.

  I tried to sleep, and when I did, the dreams that had plagued me earlier continued to haunt me. First, I dreamt of my dad, and I watched on helpless as he took his last breath and blood trickled from the side of his mouth. Then I saw Daniel again, with his glassy eyes staring up at me. I ran away, back towards the shops. In the windows, I could see the reflections of everyone I had ever followed behind me. Instead of me shadowing them, they were doing it to me.

  ‘You can’t do this!’ I shouted. ‘I’m the Mirror Man! I’m the Mirror Man!’

  I ran faster and faster to get away, when The Suit stepped out from a doorway. He flashed a grin at me, and I looked him in the eyes. They were dark brown, almost black, and his teeth were too white. It was as though I was shrinking when he looked down into my face.

  He whispered, ‘No, I’m the Mirror Man.’ Then he shrugged his shoulders, checked the cuffs on his shirt, turned, and walked away laughing.

  I woke with a start, drenched in sweat, and with Grandad and Mum in my room. I could just make them out in the darkness, standing at the foot of my bed.

  ‘You okay, sweetheart?’ Mum said.

  Sweetheart? She never calls me sweetheart.

  ‘You were shouting,’ added Grandad. ‘What were you dreaming about?’

  ‘Dad and Daniel,’ I told them. I skipped the part about The Suit. I wasn’t ready to share any details about him yet. At least not until I’d figured out who he was and what he wanted.

  ‘You’re safe now,’ Mum whispered. ‘I’m going to warm you some milk. It’ll help you sleep better,’ she said and disappeared.

  ‘Ya mam is certainly better, don’t you think?’ Grandad asked when we could no longer hear her down the hall.

  ‘I guess,’ I said.

  ‘I thought I’d told you not to worry about what you’d seen today,’ he said.

  I pushed my fists into my eyes, hoping to rub some sense back into me. ‘I tried not to, but the more I tried not to think about it, the more I did.’

  ‘Alright, don’t worry. Is there anything you want to talk about?’ he asked me.

  ‘Not really,’ I said. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Just gone two,’ he said.

  ‘Is that all?’

  He patted me on the shoulder. ‘I’m off back to bed, if you’re okay. Your mam will be back in a minute. Night, son.’

  ‘Night, Grandad.’

  As he left, Mum came back with the milk and left it on my bedside table. She even took the plate and mug from earlier.

  ‘Night, John-Michael,’ she said, closing the door.

  ‘Night, Mum.’

  I could get used to this, I thought as I sipped the warm milk. It had a slightly bitter taste to it, but I drank it all, anyway.

  Chapter Eleven

  The strange dreams had continued to taunt me all night long, except when I drifted back to sleep, I’d been chasing after The Suit as the townsfolk chased after me. We’d make it as far as the library, where he would skid to a halt, turn, and point his fingers at me as his toothy grin turned into a snarl. Mr Phillips’s words would echo all around us like a voice from above: ‘I know you’ll do right by me, John-Michael.’

  I woke up panting, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming. I patted my bed several times before I was certain I was back in the land of the living. I wiped at my brow before I checked the clock. I was going to be late! This had never happened to me before. I rushed to get ready, almost tripping over as I pulled on my jeans and ran downstairs for a quick breakfast. Mum was singing while making tea and toast.

  She looked over her shoulder as I came in. ‘Morning, sleepy head. I was just going to come and wake you up.’

  I froze on the threshold. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her in such a good mood.

  She raised an eyebrow at me in one of the mirrors. ‘You’ll be late if you don’t get a move on, so sit down and stop gawping.’

  After a mug of tea and four rounds of buttery toast, I went to work via the shortcut through the orchard, keeping my head down. I had a lot of thinking to do, but I couldn’t shake the vision of The Suit from my head. He’d been watching me as I looked in the safe. I knew I had to get a glimpse of what was in there.

  The bell dinged above the door as I walked into Claude’s Antiques. Claude didn’t jump when I entered this time. Whatever had caused his anxiety had apparently faded away. He was busy cleaning a new vase on a small round table.

  ‘Morning, Mr Phillips,’ I said cheerfully, hoping he hadn’t noticed I was five minutes late.

  ‘Morning, John-Michael, how are you feeling today?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m good, thank you. How are you?’

  He ignored my question. ‘I hear you tried to help that man who got knocked off his scooter yesterday.’

  I shrugged. ‘I talked to him, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, still more than most would have done, anyhow.’ He threw the duster down, then went to his desk and opened his diary to go over the day’s appointments. ‘Right, best get on. No time for chit-chatting yet,’ he said without looking up.

  ‘Yes, Mr Phillips,’ I said.

  He seemed to have recovered from his shock, but I still wanted to keep an eye on him. I knew he wouldn’t tell me if I asked him outright; he was always careful with the questions he answered. If he didn’t want you to know something, he ignored it. But I had eyes and ears; there were plenty of things I could do to find out what was going on, and it would take my mind off everything else happening in my life if I could focus solely on anoth
er matter.

  I didn’t have to wait long to catch a snippet of something useful. Towards dinner time, I heard Mr Phillips on the phone. He had his back to me, but I stayed hidden in the doorway, just in case.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ he said quickly. ‘It’s about the Durs Egg. I need to shift them sharpish…’

  A Pause.

  ‘I thought so, too, but I’ve been let down and no one else has got the money. You must know someone…’

  ‘Of course, they’re secure in the safe. No one’s getting in there without a key.’

  What on earth is a Durs Egg? I wondered. Whatever it was, I was sure it was the reason for Mr Phillips’s bizarre behaviour—and maybe even The Suit’s sudden arrival too.

  And I had the perfect plan.

  ‘Okay, thanks. Bye now.’ I heard him place the handset down, then move in my direction. I quickly darted back to my workstation before he appeared in the doorway, looking over at me.

  ‘Ready for dinner, lad?’

  I nodded and tidied up my space before following him to the kitchen.

  Claude and I always had our dinner together. We would reminisce about his wife while he made us sandwiches; it helped to know we had both lost someone special.

  ‘What’s for dinner today, Mr Phillips?’ I asked as I sat at the small table.

  ‘Corned beef and mustard. Our favourite,’ he said as he buttered the bread.

  ‘Great. You know, I was just thinking about Mrs Phillips. Remember when she made us that rhubarb crumble, and we had to pretend we liked it?’ I laughed.

  ‘I do, lad.’ He laughed too. ‘I think she secretly knew, though; she never did make it again.’

  ‘I miss her,’ I said as he placed my dinner in front of me before sitting with his own.

  ‘Me too. Our breaks have never been the same since, have they?’

  ‘No, they were definitely a lot longer when she was around, and we were never short of biscuits, either.’

  He laughed again.

  ‘Mr Phillips?’ I said as I chomped on my sandwich.

  ‘Yes, JC?’

  I smiled. It was the first time he’d used JC since I’d asked him to—which then only made me feel bad for what I was about to do next.

  ‘I was wondering if maybe you wanted me to service your pocket watch? I’ve never done it for you before, and I’ve worked here for eight years now,’ I said.

  Mr Phillips hummed and swallowed a mouthful of bread. ‘You might be right about that, son. Fine, you can service it.’ He placed his sandwich down, dusted his hands on his chest, then reached into his breast pocket. ‘Be careful with it, won’t you?’ he said as he placed it on the table for me.

  ‘Of course, I will,’ I told him as I, too, dusted my hands, then reached for it. What does he take me for? I take care of every watch I handle.

  ‘My grandfather gave it to me. It’s very precious, do you understand?’ he added.

  ‘I’ll take extra special care of it, Mr Phillips.’

  ‘Before you take it in the back, help me with the flail first. I need it on top of the counter. It’s being collected today.’

  After I helped him move the flail, I got started on the next stage of my plan. I carefully opened the watch and used my tweezers to remove the brass key hidden inside. The key looked like it had been in the watch for a long time. It had to be a spare.

  I wouldn’t be able to put the next stage of my plan into action until someone came into the shop. I needed Mr Phillips to be distracted so I could open the safe.

  I serviced the watch while I waited, and an hour later, the bell above the door rang. I looked through into the shop. Fersy and Clive were back to collect the flail.

  ‘What’s the verdict?’ Clive asked.

  ‘It’s genuine, alright,’ Mr Phillips said. ‘Six hundred years old, give or take. Not worth a lot now, but worth hanging on to.’

  Fersy squinted down at the thing. ‘Know anyone who might be interested?’

  I knew Mr Phillips would be deep in conversation for a while, so I snuck off to his office. I tiptoed through with the key gripped in my hand, then knelt in front of his old desk, making sure I didn’t knock anything. I carefully turned the key, and the door opened. It creaked a bit, so I stopped and listened. I could still hear voices, so I carried on.

  When the door was fully open, I peered inside. There were some tatty envelopes full of paperwork and plenty of small boxes, probably containing rings or bracelets. To the left-hand side was an odd brown box. I opened it up and inside found the key for the big safe.

  I pulled out from under the desk with the new key in my hand, pushed the door closed, and crept to the back of the room where the bigger safe stood, too big to hide, but too heavy to steal. After listening one more time for their voices, I inserted the key and opened it.

  Inside was large enough to hide in should you ever feel the need to, and at least half my height. Amongst the other items was the red case I’d seen a few days earlier. On top sat a receipt; it was a list of the items bought from the house clearance.

  I scanned down the list. Towards the bottom was written, ‘Two duelling pistols (Durs Egg).’ I put the receipt down, then carefully unfastened the clips on the red case and lifted the lid. Inside, tucked in a blue velvet compartment, sat a pair of guns.

  I slammed the lid shut, fastened it securely, and closed the safe, locking it tight. I couldn’t believe what I’d seen or what I’d been holding. I didn’t like the thought of guns being in our town. What if someone got shot, or worse?

  Mr Phillips was right to want to get rid of them—and quick.

  Were those the items the family were trying to get back? Was The Suit working for them? Or did one have nothing to do with the other?

  Chapter Twelve

  I went straight home, avoiding people and the world around me to prevent myself from getting distracted. Instead of going into the house, I headed around the back to the cottage to see Fred. I used my secret knock, and he let me in.

  ‘Well, if it isn’t the town hero,’ he greeted me and raised his arm. I’m sure it was to pat me on the back, but he quickly put it down again as I hesitated.

  I frowned both at his words and his actions; he knew I didn’t like to be touched. ‘Huh? I’m not a hero.’

  ‘Well, I suppose hero is stretching it a bit, but I’ve been told what you did for that Daniel fella.’

  ‘I didn’t really do anything.’ I shrugged. ‘I only spoke to him for a few minutes. Who told you? Mrs Kelly, again?’

  ‘She did, actually, but I’d already heard all about it from your mam.’

  ‘My mum told you?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t think you two spoke much.’

  ‘We’ve had our differences, yes. She’ll speak to me now and again, though. Proud as punch she was when she told me. There’s something different about your mam. Have you noticed?’

  I had noticed. She appeared to have cut down her drinking, and she was being nicer, even going so far as to have full-blown conversations with me. It had been years since we’d really communicated like that.

  I hummed. ‘Mum has changed. She started being nicer after I witnessed the accident with Daniel, but maybe it’s that mixed with the news of Tina’s baby. And she’s cut down on the wine.’

  ‘Well, ain’t that something?’ he said, slapping his thigh as we sat down. ‘And Tina’s having a baby, is she? You kept that quiet, JC.’

  ‘Sorry, must have slipped my mind with everything that’s happened this week…’ I said, rubbing my head.

  ‘Had a rough week, have you, lad?’

  I nodded.

  He chuckled. ‘Welcome to the real world.’

  I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, and I didn’t have time to ask.

  ‘Fred, I came round to ask you something, if I can.’

  He shuffled forward in his chair. ‘You can ask me. Doesn’t mean I can help or give you an answer.’

  I frowned again. Fred never gave a straight answer of yes or no. ‘D
o you know what a Durs Egg is?’

  ‘Hmm, sure do. He was a pistol and rifle maker. What do you want to know about him for?’

  ‘Oh… I heard someone talking about it, and I wondered what it was, that’s all.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘Is he dead now, then?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh yeah, long gone, JC. His guns are practically antiques now.’

  ‘Great, you’ve been immensely helpful, Fred.’

  ‘Oh, JC, I’m not going to pry into your business, but you remember, where there’s guns, there’s trouble,’ he said.

  ‘Okay, Fred,’ I said cheerfully. I didn’t want him to suspect anything might be wrong.

  I left Fred’s and walked slowly to the main house. It would seem Mr Phillips had got himself some antique pistols. They were probably worth a lot of money, too, otherwise he wouldn’t have them locked up in the safe. The only puzzling part of the mystery was why he had to get rid of them quickly. Perhaps he felt the same as I did and didn’t like having guns in the shop. I wasn’t back at work until Tuesday now, and I was eager for the day to come around so I could find out more.

  I went in through the kitchen and found Mum had started to prepare tea.

  ‘Hi, love,’ she said, spotting me in one of the many mirrors.

  ‘Oh. Umm, hi, Mum,’ I said. She’d caught me off guard with her bizarre niceness again. Most of the time she barely spoke when I walked past her.

  ‘I’m making your favourite tonight. Sausages, mash, and onion gravy,’ she said with a smile. I was beginning to enjoy seeing one on her face. It made her look younger, somehow. It was also refreshing to see her without a glass of wine in her hand.

  ‘Are they best sausages?’ I asked. ‘I don’t like it when they have gristle in.’

  ‘I know that, son. I fetched ’em myself from the butchers. They’re Cumberland, too, not the Lincolnshire ones.’

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Mum really had been taking notice of me all these years. Maybe I really should have given up all my peculiar ways; perhaps things would have been better for us all—Grandad included. He would love that we were getting along for the first time in years. I really would try to change my odd habits from now on. If Mum could continue to make an effort, then so could I. I liked having a proper mum taking care of me. I know Tina had tried her best, but it wasn’t the same. Plus, I was about to dive deep into the adult world, and I didn’t have as much time for following people right now. The only person I wanted to follow was The Suit.