by James Erith
The old man moved almost directly above him, his face covered by the scarf and hat. ‘And I sense that you have brought my coat. Very well done; did the old man find it?’
Kemp was horrified and for a moment simply didn’t know what to say. ‘Yes, he gave it to me,’ he lied.
‘Are you ready to join with me, Archie de Lowe?’
Kemp’s skin crawled. Everything Archie had told him was completely true. He needed more time. ‘Join you?’ Kemp said, scuffling backwards, trying hard to keep his face hidden. ‘Er, can you remind me again? I was very tired last night.’
The ghost hesitated. ‘Well, let me put it this way. I’ve got what you want.’
‘What I want?’ Kemp repeated. No wonder Archie was freaked out. ‘What do you mean?’
The old man moved to one side and appeared to look up towards the sky. ‘Why me, of course.’
‘You?’
‘Yes, me,’ said the ghost. ‘You see I’m the only one here who can help you escape from this place. And you have only about fifteen minutes in your time to decide.’
Kemp’s brain went a little fuzzy. Fifteen minutes? In your time? Decide what? Kemp stole a look down the alley.
He needed to get away, fast.
The old man sensed his unease. ‘You see, in a very short time the skies will open and it will rain for forty days and nights in a way you cannot even begin to imagine—’
Kemp looked confused. ‘What... forty days and nights?’
‘Yes. That’s what I said, forty days and nights—’
‘Forty days and nights—?’
‘Yes!’
‘What … like Noah’s Ark—?’
‘STOP repeating what I say and listen!’ the old man spat.
The words seemed to smack Kemp around the face. He lost his footing and slipped.
‘If you think what I’m saying is any way over the top,’ he said, bearing down on him, ‘I can assure you that in a short while, all of this—everything here, everything—will be destroyed.’
The ghost gestured, almost triumphantly, Kemp thought, towards the playing field.
‘Archie,’ he continued, his voice mellow once more, ‘there is a shift happening, a shift in time, a shift in the way of the universe and it is happening right here, right now. You are part of this, Archie. The wheels are turning and they cannot be reversed.’
Kemp reeled, wondering if he should play dead.
The ghost moved above him, his face covered by the scarf and hat. ‘You have brought my coat. Well done. Did the old man recognise it?’
Kemp simply didn’t know what to say. His voice stammered as a chill swept through him.
‘Are you ready to join me, Archie de Lowe?’
Kemp’s skin crawled.
‘Now, look here,’ Kemp said, ‘you need help.’ He felt a slither of confidence returning.
‘Look at me, Archie,’ the ghost said. ‘You see that thing there—’
‘Yeah, right,’ Kemp said. ‘A large, dark cloud. Big deal. Excuse me, freak, but I’m outta here—’
‘No—you—are—not,’ the old man said, spitting each word out so severely that Kemp slipped to the ground.
‘Out of all the people on this puny planet, I’ve selected you. So be grateful, boy, because I’m giving you the chance to save your life. There is no other way for you.’
Kemp squealed, and looked down the passage. What was holding him back? Why didn’t he go for it? Why didn’t he say that he wasn’t Archie? He felt oddly dizzy, as if a force was holding him against his will.
‘I see you need convincing,’ the old man said, his voice as smooth as honey once more. ‘I’m going to show you something to... reassure you. All I’m asking for is a little co-operation.’
The old man took a step back.
Kemp stood up, his knees barely able to hold him.
‘You see, I’m going to tell you the story of what has happened so far, and then I’m going to tell you what happens next. Do you understand?’
Kemp nodded.
‘Good. Let me tell you about that piece of paper in your pocket, and how I generated your image in the lightning,’ the ghost said, this time softer. ‘Then, Archie de Lowe, I’m going to show you who you are and how we are going to help one another.’
Thirty-Six
The Game
Isabella dashed down the touchline. ‘Sue, thank God I’ve found you,’ she said. ‘What’s up with you? We’re on drinks duty!’
‘Hell,’ she said. ‘You’re right. My watch...’
They rushed over to the old Volkswagen Combi ice cream van, known as the ‘catering-cart’, which acted as refreshment centre and mobile sweet shop.
Isabella and Sue pulled out a few tables, and lined out paper cups ready for jugs of orange squash. A steady stream began queuing for drinks, chocolate bars, and crisps.
Sue took the money while Isabella handed out cups, but Sue could barely keep up.
Isabella was working at an astonishing speed, darting here and there, handing out confectionery and drinks. She talked to everyone about the current score, or Daisy’s brilliant goals, or the curious weather.
‘How did you manage to serve all that in ten minutes?’ Sue said, as she squeezed a few more cups into the overflowing bin bag. ‘We’ve made a killing.’
Isabella breathed a sigh of relief. With no rain appearing so far, perhaps Solomon was right. Maybe the cloud would break later that afternoon. From inside the van, she looked out over the scene. The crowd was still three or four deep the entire way around the pitch, and she could just make out the steep rise of the bank on the far side that led up to the village.
The floodlights shone down, giving the players a strange, quadruple shadow. If it hadn’t been nearly midday, there would have been no reason to suspect that they weren’t playing a night match.
‘Isabella,’ she called out. ‘Get a place left of the halfway line. I’ll join you in a minute. I’m going to cash up.’
The feeling of dread that Sue had experienced before was building again. The vast black cloud seemed to be growing even thicker, and sinking even lower in the sky.
She knew she should get out of there and run to higher ground, but she was too swallowed up by the drama, and swept away by the skill of Daisy de Lowe.
A heavy challenge sent Daisy flying. The crowd swayed, and spilled onto the pitch.
The noise levels increased.
‘That was late. Too damn late,’ Isabella shouted, peeling off her scarf.
‘Careful, Isabella. Watch it,’ Sue said, firmly. ‘You mustn’t. You’ll get expelled. I promised—’
‘It was deliberate and dirty—’
‘NO, Isabella!’ Sue snapped. ‘Bite your tongue.’
‘But they’re targeting Daisy exactly as Kemp said they would. They’re going to kick her out of the game!’
Sue closed her eyes. Great, just what she needed! Still ten minutes to go, and Isabella sizzling like a firework.
‘What was that noise?’ Isabella said.
‘That gargantuan thing up there?’
‘Th... thunder?’ Isabella said, momentarily removing her eyes from the action.
Sue nodded.
Several members of the crowd started to leave, while others gestured upwards.
This is it, Sue thought. This is where it starts, exactly as I saw in my nightmare. It even feels the same too. I’ve got to tell Isabella. I’ve got to tell her NOW.
A ghastly feeling of panic swept over her.
They should stop the game. Get everyone away.
Sue’s thoughts were interrupted as Daisy stole the ball and sprinted down the field.
Daisy skipped inside one tackle, then dummied inside looking for support.
The crowd roared, but, from nowhere, a couple of Newton boys smashed into her from opposite angles. All three lay on the ground as the ball was kicked away by another Newton player.
Play continued, but it was a poor decision.
‘Ye
llow card,’ yelled a senior boy. ‘C’mon ref!’
The atmosphere flipped. Suddenly, late tackles flew in and players were being kicked indiscriminately out of eyeshot of the referee.
One of the Newton strikers stole into the penalty area, as a massive crash of thunder reverberated around them. At that exact moment, little Jimmy Nugent, running back, tapped the forward’s foot and the player fell face-first onto the turf.
The whistle shrilled and the ball was placed on the spot.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Sue said, quietly, ‘the end of Daisy’s dream.’ She turned. ‘Isabella, what on earth are you doing?’
Isabella was scribbling furiously in her notebook. ‘Just watch for me a minute. You know, commentate, like on telly.’
She didn’t need to. The groan told her everything.
‘What happened?’
‘The ball trickled past Archie. All he had to do was put his foot out. Two-all.’
‘He is absolutely useless sometimes,’ she said.
‘Well, he’s only in the team because no-one else would do it.’
‘And to keep Daisy company, though, to be fair, he has improved, ’ Isabella said as she thrust the paper into Sue’s overcoat pocket. ‘Ye of little faith, Sue Lowden,’ she said. ‘You’ll see, she’ll score again.’
Another roll of thunder boomed and cracked. More spectators started running away.
Sue’s stomach lurched. It was now or never.
‘Isabella, we’ve got to get out of here, now. I mean it. But listen to me first. There’s something important I’ve got to share—’
‘Please, Sue. Just shut up!’ Isabella snapped. ‘Get the ball to Daisy de Lowe,’ she screamed. ‘Give it to Daisy!’ Isabella turned to Sue. ‘Listen, hun, tell me whatever is so damn important at the end, okay. There’s less than five minutes to go and it’s two-all in the most important match of my brother and sister’s life. Can you please just give it a break for five minutes? Five minutes. That’s all I’m asking.’
With that, Isabella sidled out onto the pitch, ran down the touchline, and dived in among the spectators further down.
Archie stomped around the penalty area, his face burning with shame at the unsaved goal.
For some reason, just before the Newton player stepped up to hit the penalty, it had come to him. The person he’d seen way up on the steps heading into the alley was Kemp. It could only have been Kemp. For a start, his hair was a complete giveaway, and he was wearing the ghost’s long coat, which made him look like a monk.
All he could think of was running up there to find out what the hell Kemp was up to.
If Cain was there, and Kemp had gone to find him, would Cain know the difference between them? Would he care?
Then, in the next instance, the ball had trickled past him into the goal.
Archie kicked the base of the post. The more he thought about Kemp and the ghost, the more certain he became that he was right.
All I ever do is look on hopelessly, he thought. When will I stop being so pathetic?
A slow-burning fury moved through his body, an anger borne of frustration and annoyance. It began to build up in him like a glowing light, as if he were being charged up like a battery.
Archie was about to kick short from the goal kick, but, from out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daisy in yards of space on the halfway line, catching her breath after the last attack. It was worth a try. He pushed the ball ahead, ran up, and thumped it hard. The ball rose high into the air.
Daisy saw it, her eyes never leaving the ball. She took it down in her stride and, with a burst of speed, tore past one player then another. She then stopped so suddenly that another player over-ran, and she side-stepped one more player who fell over. The crowd roared.
‘… She will, she will—ROCK YOU!’
Daisy side-stepped again and, with an injection of pace, flew towards the penalty area with real menace. Four Newton players lay sprawled on the floor, leaving only one more to beat.
‘Go on Daisy, you can do it,’ Archie screamed.
Archie watched as the remaining defender was sold a beautiful dummy, which Daisy seemed to do with such ease that it was laughable. As she pushed the ball past him and effortlessly made her way around, he slid out a leg and tripped her up quite deliberately. Daisy stumbled and fell but she wasn’t giving up. She crawled towards the ball and then, even as she lay on the ground with the ball wedged between her knees, she managed to keep moving.
But a warning cry went up as three Newton players and the goalkeeper converged on Daisy. It felt as if Daisy had fallen into a trap as the Newton boys cocked their legs and kicked out, striking more of Daisy than the ball, kicking her again and again in a kind of frenzy.
Still, she refused to give the ball up.
The crowd swayed and screamed before falling silent.
They could quite clearly see Daisy’s face contorting in pain as the assault rained down on her.
Thirty-Seven
Sue Tells of Her Dream
For the first time in her life, Sue could feel a sensation of utter panic building up in her veins like one of her bubbling chemistry experiments. A series of flashes filled the sky, mirroring the extraordinary scenes on the pitch. Lightning fizzed then crackled. For a brief moment, the light formed a picture of a boy in the sky.
Sue gasped. A boy?
A thunderclap smashed overhead so loudly that the crowd cried out. Shrieks and screams filled the football field.
Sue fell to her knees, barely able to think, her body shaking. No! It can’t be! It’s not possible. It’s... it’s... Kemp’s face! The lightning was Kemp’s face super-imposed in the cloud. How was it possible?
She looked around. Where was Isabella? She couldn’t have gone already. Sue followed the eyes of the crowd.
Isabella was striding towards the pitch.
‘No! Isabella, stop!’
There was no reaction from Isabella.
Without thinking, Sue took off after her. ‘Isabella, LISTEN!’ she yelled as she ran. ‘It’s you!’
She ran on further.
‘The dream is about your family, the de Lowes.’ She sensed Isabella slowing down.
‘You must ALL survive until sunset and find a cave. Do you understand?’ She took a deep breath.
‘Survive till sunset. You must all stay alive!’
Her voice was petering out as she realised she was screaming herself hoarse. She sucked her breath in again.
‘Find clues in your house, Eden Cottage,’ she hollered. ‘You must find the clues.’
Sue coughed and then repeated the last part, adding,
‘Get home. All three of you!’
She noted some of the crowd staring at her as if she was a madwoman. But she didn’t care, not one little bit.
Archie couldn’t believe it.
First Sue screaming nonsense at Isabella, and now this!
Where was the referee?
He thumped the goalpost, shook his head, and looked up. The giant, angry bruise of a cloud stretched above him like a monstrous airship. It sagged so low in the sky that he felt he could jump up and burst it as easily as pricking a balloon.
The heady smell of damp filled his nostrils as another crack of thunder escaped. Archie felt his blood boiling inside him. Five Newton players surrounded Daisy.
She managed to stand, but one of them pushed her over.
That was the final straw. Anger flooded through him. No one, Archie seethed, does that to my sister.
He tore down the pitch, the crowd baying and shouting as the referee desperately tried to separate the fighting players.
‘NO! Don’t retaliate, Archie—’ he could hear someone yelling. It was too late, though. Hell had broken loose.
One of the Newton boys was holding Daisy’s hair and leering at her, screaming in her face. Archie grabbed him by the collar and threw him away, the boy sailing through the air and landing in a heap on the ground. Archie punched another boy hard on the nose.
He thought he heard crunching sounds, then found himself receiving blows although he couldn’t feel them.
Blood coursed through his body. He felt strong and powerful. Invincible.
A couple of Newton boys jumped him but he picked one up with one hand and tossed him over his shoulder. The other boy he wrestled to the ground until the boy under him squirrelled away. Then he found another hitting Jimmy Nugent. He smashed the boy hard in the stomach and tossed him to the side like a piece of litter.
The whistle shrilled again and again.
Finally, a sharp, stern voice rose up out of the melee. It was Isabella. Archie could see her marching towards them. Oh no!
Archie looked around. Three Newton boys and the referee stared at him with their eyes wide open. Was it in fear?
This was a sensation he’d never experienced before.
Archie wiped his brow and allowed himself a smile.
Yup. It felt strangely good.
Thirty-Eight
Solomon’s Penny Drops
‘Sir,’ a small boy said, running up to him. ‘Sir. What shall we do?’
Solomon smiled, badly. ‘I’ve been assured that there won’t be any rainfall until this afternoon,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we’ll be fine.’
‘But, Sir. Look. I don’t think it’s safe.’
Solomon stared up at the throbbing deep bruise that filled the sky to the horizon. His heartbeat quickened.
‘If you’re worried, make your way indoors. Are your parents around?’
‘No, Sir. They’re coming to the music concert this afternoon.’
‘Then I suggest you go to the library and find a good book. How does that sound?’
The boy ran back to his friends, and together they scampered over to the old buildings with the tower.
Solomon’s knees were shaking. In fact, now that he noticed, his entire body shook, as if he’d been swimming in a cold sea. Nerves about the match, probably.
At the back of his mind he wondered about Isabella. I mean, really? Bah! It wasn’t going to happen.
