“I can believe it,” she said. “That fishing rod of his looks quite lethal.”
She waited outside whilst I did my Special Forces search of each room. I found him in the small front room I’d designated as my library, an optimistic label for sure but I did need somewhere to store my huge collection of paperbacks and graphic novels. He was short and very thin, wearing what looked like green fatigues with an orange circle about the size of a saucer on the breast.
“Where’s the cellar?” he demanded.
“I don’t have a cellar. And why are you in my library?” I held the gnome over my head and shook it in what I hoped was a threatening manner.
The man stopped and looked around the room. “Library?” he said, disbelievingly.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Well it’s hardly a library is it? I mean, it’s more a pile of paperbacks in a cupboard.”
“I’ll have you know a library is a collection of books wherever they are and it’s... Why am I discussing my library with a burglar? I should be calling the police.” I shook the gnome again but it was getting heavy and I would need to decide whether to hit him with it or put it down before I dropped it on my head.
“I’m not a burglar! I’m Eric Three Four Nine.”
“Three Four Nine?” I heard Saphie say from behind me.
I turned to face her. “I thought you were waiting outside?” How am I supposed to do my alpha male protecting stuff if she was going to follow me in to the danger zone? Then I noticed she carried the pick axe handle and I glanced up at my gnome still held in an increasingly wobbly arm above my head.
“What’s wrong with Three Four Nine?” Eric asked. “It’s a perfectly proper assignment.”
“It sounds more like a Hotmail address,” I said, turning back to my intruder.
“I’m not here to be insulted.”
“Oh, good, at least that’s something on which we are all agreed then. Now if you’ll just go back to where you came from.”
“The cellar! I’m telling you I came from the cellar.”
Despite his agitation he didn’t appear dangerous so I settled the gnome on a bookshelf alongside my first edition copy of The Hobbit. “I think you must be in the wrong house. I don’t have a cellar.”
“But you have, it’s there!” He pointed to the end wall of the library. “Just there.”
I stared at my rows of pine shelves that supported my endless rows of neatly alphabetised books. “You came through there? Through my bookshelves?”
“Not just now of course. That’s ridiculous. Four years ago and there was a door there then. Just now I came through the kitchen door but originally I came from the cellar.”
“Well obviously you can’t go back that way. Even if there was a cellar there at one time there isn’t now and I’m not about to beat any more holes in walls. I’ve enough trouble with the ones I’ve got.”
“But you have to let me, I left Katrina Two one eight there.”
“Katrina Two one...?”
“My wife. I left my wife there. I have to get her now.”
Over the last few days I had begun to almost come to terms with the way the world was turning inside out in front of me, but this was just lunacy. I told him so. “This is lunacy,” I said. “If you left your wife in my cellar four years ago, you’re probably a bit late.” I had a strong feeling I should be calling the police about now.
“Why would you do something like that?” Saphie asked. “What sort of monster locks his wife in his cellar for four years?”
“My cellar,” I corrected. “He locked her up in my cellar.”
“I didn’t lock her up in the cellar.” He sounded affronted. “She’s through your cellar on the other side. I had to leave her behind, but now I’ve come back for her.” He started removing books from my shelves and dumping them on the floor.
“If you don’t go now I’m going to call the police.” I stepped to one side to give him room to leave.
He hesitated as if testing my resolve. My resolve remained positive but I couldn’t vouch for the response of Glastonbury Police, that’s even supposing it wasn’t early closing day. I hoped he wouldn’t test either. He paused for a moment and then marched out of the library and through the front door. I closed it behind him.
“Well, that was all very strange.” I looked at Saphie. She set the pickaxe handle in the corner and I wondered how she’d removed it from the head so quickly.
“I’m guessing there’s yet another universe through there somewhere,” she said.
“If there is, it can stay there. I’m not making any more holes.”
*****
We unloaded the car and Saphie showed me how to set up the Rayburn properly. It seems these beasts have to be kept going all the time. Not much good for a spur of the moment snack.
“You’ll need to get a bigger order of coal,” she said. “But this’ll keep you going for a few days.”
The green beast glowed in the corner of the kitchen. “So how many days do I have to wait before I can chuck a pizza in?”
“Oh, I’d give it a week or two just to be sure.” Saphie gave me the green eyed twinkly smile that I was beginning to find increasingly seductive. “I need to get back. I’ve left the dog locked up all day, he’ll be frantic.”
“There’s nobody there to walk him for you?”
“I live alone if that’s what you were asking. But I also need to sort out some stock out for the shop tomorrow.”
“You’re going to leave me alone with that thing?” I nodded in the direction of the Rayburn.
“You’ll be alright. Just feed it regularly and try not to make any sudden movements.”
“I’ll be careful. I have a story to finish anyway.”
“You should explore these doorways. You never know what they’ll lead.”
“That actually seems like a very good reason not to.”
After Saphie had gone I settled down at my desk and opened the laptop. I stared at the screen for forty-five minutes and gave up, I had a long bath and risked my last pizza to the clutches of the Rayburn. It cooked surprisingly quickly with just the right amount of crispiness. I felt the beginnings of a beautiful relationship.
Chapter Ten
The next morning I made myself a fried breakfast on the Rayburn. Saphie had shown me how to set it so it stayed in all night and the kitchen was lovely and warm when I’d got up. The cats had also noticed this new facet to the kitchen and three Possicats had arranged themselves in a perfect equilateral triangle in front of it. One Anticat sat on the table giving them a slightly sinister green-eyed stare. Obviously a territorial thing going on here. The trio on the floor had refused to budge and I found myself picking my way through them as I fried my bacon and eggs.
As I ate, I felt a slight sense of elation. It might have been the thought that I could finally cook something or more likely the realisation that I wasn’t actually having a return of bewilderment issues. Thinking about the implications of the doors and windows still scrambled my head though so I continued to not think about it as best as I could. But at least another person had confirmed that it was really happening. I thought about Saphie. She was an odd character, for somebody that made a living selling potions and magic crystals she seemed incredibly well grounded. I found myself wondering if she might come out again next Sunday. I stared at the door as I recalled her attempts to enthuse me with a sense of curiosity for what lay out there.
Of course, I had been halfway round the house, I remembered. On the first day, I’d repeatedly tried to put bird food on the bird table. That had involved going out the front and round the back. And hadn’t I gone all the way round when I’d attempted to open the shutters? I couldn’t remember now. Perhaps it wasn’t so dangerous?
I refilled my coffee cup and went to the front door. I paused for a moment then opened it and stepped out. The world looked perfectly normal, no shimmering pools like on Stargate when they plop through dimensions as though hopping on
a bus. I’d take a walk round the house. I started round the side and then had a thought. What if I moved to a different universe without realising? The ones from the kitchen window and patio doors looked identical. I could end up in the wrong one and not know. I went back to the front door and placed my coffee cup on the doorstep. Now, if I went round and it wasn’t there I’d know I’d come back to the wrong place.
I set off round the left side of the cottage and through the narrow walkway between the cottage and the garage. I peeped around the corner and looked at the garden. Overgrown and just as it had been when I’d arrived, with no sign of my afternoon spent out there with the chainsaw. I panicked and hurried back to the front door. The coffee cup was where I’d left it and I steadied my breathing. Of course it would still be overgrown, the garden I’d cleared had been the one out of the patio doors. I ventured back around and this time walked along the back wall. As I passed the patio doors, I peeped in. Of course, I remembered, the mad Spanish woman. She’d been in that room not my lounge. A different universe again. I felt a moment of panic and resisted the temptation to scurry back. The lounge looked similar but there was a different coffee table and sofa. There were also quite a few trinkets scattered around. On the sideboard sat three framed photographs. I squinted against the reflected sunlight and could just make out a picture of a boy playing with a dog. That picture looked vaguely familiar. Where did I know that from? I suddenly felt like a voyeur and continued around the cottage. As I passed the wall where the kitchen door should be, I ran my hand over the wall. All solid. I carried on round the corner back to the front door and with great relief I saw the coffee cup still where I’d left it. I picked it up and hurried back into the kitchen and sat at the table, limbs shaking slightly. I’d done it! I looked round the kitchen to reassure myself I’d arrived back in the same place. Three cats by the Rayburn, recently used frying pan and toast crumbs on the worktop. Yes, this was my world.
I tried to think through the permutations of which opening led where and felt a slight sense of confused panic creeping up on me so switched on the radio. The BBC were discussing the economy once more and apparently we are all doomed. Some expert propounded his theory of global economic collapse brought about by China cornering the world’s honey supplies or something. Better learn to speak Chinese then. That should take my mind off the doors. My mind went back to the doors. Saphie had seemed excited by the possibilities out there and couldn’t seem to understand my reluctance to explore. Perhaps I should. I risked a peep out of the kitchen door, half expecting a queue of people to be waiting outside. No people, just the same view of the untidy lawn and low stone wall. But that was still too far from what I should be seeing and I closed the door again.
The patio doors led to a world that looked pretty much identical to the one I inhabited so perhaps if I was going to explore, that would be the one to try. At least then I would have the comfort of the familiar. And besides, I’d already spent an afternoon out there without coming to any harm. I went to the lounge and pushed open the patio doors in my moment of bravado. My bravado evaporated as I ventured outside and by the time I rounded the corner of the cottage I’d already moved from bravado through caution and was now firmly in panic. I peeped around the front corner of the cottage and started as I noticed my car had vanished. Of course it had, it was in my own universe I reasoned. Apart from the missing car, everything else appeared normal.
Missing car? A sense of unease started somewhere near my stomach and spread around my insides like a particularly cold ice cream. The last time my car had gone missing was when I’d been seeing Tania off. I tried to think through what had happened that day. We’d left the cottage via the patio doors, just as I’d done now. That would explain why the car wasn’t there both times. However, that also meant that Tania had gone off unknowingly into this world. I’d had a vague notion earlier that something like that might have happened but up until now I’d chosen to ignore the possibility. Whoops.
I hurried back inside and paced around the cottage. What would happen? Maybe everything just joined up again down the lane or something? Or perhaps the differences between these two universes were so slight she’d never notice them? After all, the only difference as far as I could see was one had my car in it and the other had a cleared back garden. No big deal. Perhaps I was the only thing different and everything else was the same.
That was alright then. Nothing to worry about. Tania was with her sister in Cornwall and all was right with the world.
I grabbed my keys and headed out of the front door, jumped in the car and terrorised the lanes between Trembly and Glastonbury.
*****
“But you see,” I said to Saphie, “the only difference is the little bit of garden and my car.”
Saphie took a ten pound note from a pretty young woman in jeans and denim jacket and rang it through the till. “Thank you,” she said, handing the woman her change and box of incense cones. She turned to me as the woman left. “What are you talking about?”
“Tania, my agent. I think she might have accidently wandered into a different universe.”
“Yes, I gathered that much. And you’re hoping she won’t notice?”
“Well, that’s not really what I meant. I just—”
“Sorry, Ian. I’ll be with you in a minute.” She turned to serve a couple of hippy types who had just placed a selection of crystals on the counter.
“Are you sure that’s all?” she asked them.
“What do you mean?” asked the man.
Saphie pulled a small brown bottle from a stand behind her and dropped it into the bag with the crystals. “Take two drops of this each night before sleep. It will stop the dreams.”
The man looked horrified. “How... I mean... What makes you say that?”
His companion tugged his sleeve. “Come on, Ewan. I told you she knows stuff.” She paid for the crystals but as with me, Saphie refused payment for the bottle. They left the shop with Ewan shaking his head in confusion.
“Rather an interesting business model,” I asked her when the shop was empty once more. “Do you ever actually sell any of that stuff?”
“One must never sell healing or it is robbed of its power.” She tidied the counter. “On the other hand it’s perfectly in order to sell it to those who don’t need it. American tourists generally. Mostly all they need is a diet.”
I remembered the estate agent telling me about the American tourist who’d gone missing. “But you think Tania will be alright then? If it’s all much the same I mean.”
She made an entry in her Day Book then closed it and faced me. “If you’re convinced that the world is the same then I’m sure she’s okay.” Her eyes challenged me.
“I see. So I suppose I should go look. I mean... just to check?”
“That would seem to be the best plan.”
I searched her eyes for signs of sarcasm. “I don’t suppose—”
“No, I can’t afford to shut up shop just yet. Go on, you’ll enjoy it. It will be an adventure.”
“Did I ever mention my allergy to adventure? It’s like peanuts only worse.”
“I’ll drop round later. You can tell me how it went.”
There was the trap. Right there. Sprung with such finesse I hadn’t seen it coming. If I didn’t explore she would have no reason to come round.
“I’ll get a pizza in,” I said.
*****
I sat in the lounge staring through the patio doors. A perfectly ordinary day in a perfectly ordinary village. I wondered if there was another me out there somewhere. What would happen if we met? Would we explode in an antimatter annihilation? What if I met a different version of myself, a Scottish version or something? Could I have been born as a female in a different universe? That opened up a conundrum. If I met a married female version of myself and we had an affair, would that be adultery or incest?
I realised I was mentally burbling and closed the lid on that particular corner of my insanity. I would go
out through there and go for a pint in the Camelot. That would be my reward for outstanding bravery.
I hesitated slightly when I reached the drive and saw no car there and then again as I walked down the drive to see the hedge pushing in from both sides. It showed no evidence of my afternoon of chainsawing a few days ago. The walk to the pub was pretty much as any other. Apart from the bakery next to the general stores. In my universe this was just a modernised terraced cottage, probably owned by a Londoner as a weekend retreat. Here it had a loaf shaped sign hanging from a beam; ‘Stainswick’s Bakery’, it said.
The pub was quiet for a lunchtime. Just two men in overalls sat at the bar.
“Ah, Mister Faulkener, sir,” one of the men said as I approached the bar. “I’ve been trying to find you but you never answer your door.”
“Wayne?”
“Yes, sir. I fixed your door. Don’t tell me you’ve gone and got the Al Zymers too!”
“Al Zymers?” I looked at the other man who was the absolute double, right down to the overalls. “Oh, I see, Alzheimer’s. Sorry,” I said, slightly confused. “I’ve been in most of the time. I’d been wondering what had happened to you.” I looked from one to the other. The only difference I could determine was that Wayne had three days worth of beard whilst the other man was clean shaven.
“Not to worry,” he said. “As you’re around now I’ll pop round direckley and finish off. You ain’t seen my van have you? Some bugger seems to have nicked it. Or maybe I just forgot where I left it. That’s been happening a lot lately.”
“It’s still in the lane outside my cottage. At least it was yesterday.”
“See, I told you it wouldn’t be far away,” said the other man. “You just forgot where you parked it, you silly sod.”
Still confused I looked back at Wayne and asked, “I’m sorry, who is this?” I pointed to the second man.
“That’s my brother Wayne,” Wayne said. “Same name like me. Funny that, ain’t it?”
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