‘William, all this being cooped up in your room bent over your word machine like a hermit isn’t good for you, you hear me?’
‘I hear you, Mum.’
‘Likely to turn your spine soft and your thoughts strange.’
Despite what she said, she read every terrible page that typewriter spat out and reacted as though he were Hemingway reborn. Every child with thoughts above their station needs a champion.
The second picture on the desk was much older. Bill was proudly holding up a giant catch, Cali was stood to one side, holding her nose to block out the fishy stench. It made him laugh every time he looked at it. God, she’d been a darling child. Cute as a button. Got it from her mum, that was sure enough. Only thing she got from him was that stubborn streak. Well, that and his nose. Sorry about that thought Bill with a snort, tweaking his prominent schnoz.
Kate, Cali’s mum, was a long time gone. She’d hit the road and never looked back. Bill still remembered that first terrible night alone with his infant child, after Kate had walked out for good and it was all up to him, his sister fussing but well meaning.
‘Honestly, I can stay on as long as you like, Billy. I’ll tell my boss he can stuff it, that’s all.’
His sister gone too, now, permanently so. Car crash. All that was left were Bill and Cali. Father and child.
Why’d she have to go and do a stupid bloody thing like become an astronaut?
Bill pushed away his mind’s attempt to dive headlong into morbid contemplations…
…What if a piece of broken off satellite hurtles into the Defiant at a million miles an hour, cracks one of the windows open and sucks Cali out screaming into the vacuum of space? It could happen! Could it? I should Google this rubbish…
…and glanced back up at that darned blinking cursor, before leaving the room in search of a cold bottle of beer.
CHAPTER TEN
The sky’s untainted blue was beginning to darken. Bill, his head a little fuzzy after one too many cold ones to chase away the bad thoughts, was sat on the decking in front of his house, enjoying the last of the day’s summer heat. One more beer, then bed. He popped the top off another bottle and held it up to the sky in salute. ‘Fly safe, Cali.’ He took a long swig and smiled.
He loved this house, bought almost thirty years ago with the absurd advance he received from his second book after the first one had taken everyone, Bill most of all, by surprise and blown up. The advances shrunk down a bit after that, when it suddenly became very clear they didn’t have a British Stephen King on their hands. It had meant he could move from a house in noisy, non-stop London, crowded in by car fumes, sirens and a street full of copycat houses, into a larger, detached place way up in Apoc Hill, deep in the belly of the Lake District, a stone’s throw from Dearnewater, its own little body of water. It wasn’t big enough to be classed as a lake, or small enough to be considered a pond. A sixty second walk and he could be sitting on the end of a wooden jetty, dangling a line.
Bill didn’t consider himself a recluse. Not exactly. But the fact each of the homes here were four hundred yards or so apart, in their haphazardly arranged fashion, and hidden from each other by greenery, suited Bill just fine. Sometimes, when he sat out here alone with nothing but a bottle and the sky for company, he could fool himself into thinking he was the only person around for miles. The only person around full stop. More often than not these flights of fancy were broken by Jack Finch’s car alarm blaring because a leaf blew off a tree and hit it, or by Caroline and Joe Smith having a blazing argument on their lawn.
‘Hi, Mr Reed.’
Bill turned to see Paul Sawyer approaching, a straight white smile beaming across his handsome face.
‘Back again, hey?’
Paul dropped down into the empty garden chair at his side as Bill pulled a bottle out of the cooler and offered it over. Paul accepted.
Bill liked Paul. He was the same age as Cali and the two had been fast friends there for a while growing up. In fact he and Paul’s Mum, Aileen, used to joke about how the two of them were headed towards an ‘I do’.
‘Knowing your daughter, she’ll be the one to pop the question, too!’
Well, it hadn’t quite worked out like that. Once they hit their teen years and split into different friend groups, different interests, they stopped being so close, but the underlying friendship had remained. Paul was married now, to a woman he met three months after moving to London to take up his internship at the law firm he still worked at. Bill had met her a few times when they’d come back to visit. She seemed like a good sort. To a degree. Hated this place, of course. He could see it in her face; couldn’t wait to get back to the big city, to ‘civilisation’, away from dry stone walls, livestock, and the stench of nature.
‘Your wife up with you?’
‘Nah, she had work, so. Couldn’t be avoided. She gets antsy being cut off for any length of time, anyway.’
‘It’s not for everyone.’
Cali had never married. So far, anyway. She’d had boyfriends; there was even that serious one when she was in her early twenties. Alan. Tall guy. Smart, too. Used to make a point of praising some aspect of one of his novels. Bill had liked him, but he wasn’t surprised when Cali ended it. Right now she only had room in her life for one thing.
‘You think she’s up there looking down at us right now, Mr Reed?’
‘For God’s sake, Paul, you’re a grown man. How many times do I have to say this? It’s Bill. You call me Bill.’
‘Not going to happen, Mr Reed; it would feel like calling my mum by her first name. The very thought of it threatens to tilt the world of its axis.’
Bill arched an eyebrow by way of response. Truth be told, seeing Paul grow up from practically a baby to a man, it did almost feel like he was part of the family. Not a son, but, well, a nephew you looked forward to crossing paths with.
‘So you think she’s up there?’ said Paul, pointing straight up at the sky.
‘Nope, as of now she should be passing somewhere over Africa. I think.’
Paul whistled. ‘Africa, hey? Must be nice to travel, I‘ve barely left the U.K. Well, I went to France that one time. But that’s so close it barely feels like it counts.’
‘That is a tragedy. Get yourself out there, Paul. Go and walk the Earth a little.’
‘I will. Soon as I can persuade Amanda back onto a plane. She’s terrified of them. She says there’s nothing a plane journey away that could beat what’s reachable by car or train.’
You really picked yourself a one there, Paul my boy.
‘How’s the latest novel coming along? You know I tell everyone in London I’m friends with the great William Reed.’
‘Please, sir, you’re going to make me blush,’ said Bill.
‘Well?’
‘The going is slow. Give me another five years or so.’
‘You know Amanda actually read one, and she never reads. I suppose me going on about it finally peaked her interest enough.’
Oh joy.
‘Oh really? Which one was it?’
‘Rosen Park. She told me to let you know how much she liked it.’
Bill wondered how many pages she’d actually got into it before tossing it aside. ‘Well give her my thanks. That’s probably my worst one, so I’m glad someone’s getting something out of it.’
Paul drained the bottle and dropped it in the box of empties. ‘Well, I’d better get going, got a party with my name on it.’
‘Have a good one. Make sure to do something you won’t want to tell your wife about.’
Paul laughed. ‘Cheers for the beer.’
‘My pleasure, I’ll see you again this visit, yes?’
‘If you’ve got beers going free, I’ll be back, Mr Reed.’
‘Bill!’
‘No chance.’
Bill watched Paul stroll off. He turned back once to offer a cheery goodbye wave then turned off and out of sight, whistling as he went. Cali could have been a lawyer. A ni
ce, safe lawyer. On Earth. She was twice as smart as any lawyer needed to be. But no, she had to choose a job that made her put her life on the line.
He hoped to God she was okay up there.
Bill put the bottle to his lips, but no matter how far he tilted it, the thing refused to be any less empty. Well, one more should do the trick he thought as he reached into the cooler for another bottle.
As he popped off the top and took a long, cold swig, he looked up at the sky. It was starting to look peculiar tonight. What was it? A new colour to it, or something.
A yellow tinge spreading over from beyond Dearnewater, from behind the bulk of Apoc Hill.
Bill drank and looked at the yellow sky.
It really was a pretty sight.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Alice screamed and laughed at the same time, ducking down below the sofa pillow she was gripping with whitened knuckles.
‘You okay, Al?’ asked her dad. Alice pulled down the pillow and nodded eagerly. No way was she going to miss the rest of this movie. ‘Look, just don’t tell your mum tomorrow that I let you stay up to watch this, all right? It’s our secretive secret. Because if it’s not our secretive secret, then your old dad is going to be on the receiving end of some colourful language.’
Alice laughed, ‘I won’t tell!’
‘That’s my girl.’
Alice snuggled in close as her dad wrapped his large arm around her and held her warmly. He smelled like deodorant and cigarette smoke. Something else that he’d be told off about if her mum caught a whiff. Do you enjoy destroying your lungs? Are you looking to get a nice fat dose of mouth, throat and lung cancer? If so, then by all means, smoke away! Alice agreed with her mum; she didn’t like the idea of her Dad smoking. Smoking could make you sick. Like, deathly sick. Miss Timms, who used to teach history at school, always used to go out for a smoke between lessons. She thought no one knew, of course everyone did. She got the cancer one summer and by the time the new school year started she was already dead. Quick as that. Alice didn’t like the teacher that replaced her, he sweated too much. Once she saw sweat literally dripping off the back off his neck and down his shirt collar, and all he was doing was sitting watching a show about Henry the eighth! Had a beard, too, that was always full of whatever he was eating. She missed Miss Timms.
A sudden musical stab on the TV caused her to jump again, her dad laughing at her reaction.
As much as Alice hated the thought of her dad smoking, of him catching the cancer like Miss Timms, she found the smell comforting. It was how her dad smelled. Mum smelled of that perfume she liked and peppermint chewing gum, Dad like smoke. When she was very little, and too scared to sleep, she would come downstairs and get his jacket. She would take it back to her bedroom and put it on, climbing back beneath the covers. The smell of smoke would envelop her, the sense that her dad was there with her, and before she knew it she would drift off to sleep, all thoughts of monsters in the wardrobe fading to nothing.
Mum was out with her best friends, Janice and Abbie. Every couple of weeks they would go out until late, drinking wine and complaining about men. Or so said her dad. Her mum had her twice-monthly tradition, and so did Alice and her dad. First of all, pizza, always topped with everything, and a giant bottle of cola to wash it down. They would take it through to the front room to eat on the couch in front of the TV, something they never did when they were all together. Mum liked a family meal at the dining table in the kitchen. She said only a certain kind of low rent person ate their main meal slouched in front of the TV. Alice wasn’t quite sure who those ‘certain type’ of people were, but she did know she was jealous of them. They always ate when the best shows were on! Well, probably, anyway. She never got to see them, but she was pretty sure it was the truth.
So pizza on the couch in front of the TV. Transgression number one. Transgression number two? Dad let Alice stay up way past her official bedtime. On a Friday she was allowed to stay up till almost ten, but on these Fridays, when it was just her, her dad, and an overloaded pizza? Eleven. Yeah, it meant she fell asleep at some point on the Saturday, but it was worth it. None of her friends got to stay up so late! She even sat up until just after half past eleven that one time when a movie ran long.
Oh! And that was the third and final transgression: SCARY MOVIES. Alice and her Dad loved scary movies. Of course Mum wouldn’t let her watch them, said she was way too young. A seven year old should not be watching that kind of thing! They’ll screw up your mind worse than drugs, those film nasties. Remember Billy Tallen? Watched The Exorcist, thought he was possessed by the Devil and threw himself off Waygate Bridge into the river. They found his dead body washed up three miles away. That could be you!
Alice wasn’t sure if the Waygate Bridge story was true or just Mum trying to scare her off the movies; either way it didn’t work. Scary movies were her and her Dad’s thing. She never felt closer to him than when jumping and screaming and laughing at a horror movie together. God alone knows what Mum would ever do to Dad if she found out the kind of thing he was showing her! She’d actually been a little scared when Dad showed her The Exorcist a few months back. Billy Tallen was whirling in her mind as the film started up, not that she’d let on to her dad. If he really did think these films were getting to her he’d stop showing her them right away, she knew that. Truth was the only thing getting to her was her mum’s story. But soon enough she forgot about that and was just pulled into the movie.
She knew the movies for what they were: fiction. Monsters weren’t real. There was no boogieman, or demons, and nothing from space coming to kill you. It was just a story and special effects. That blood? Just colouring and other stuff, her dad had told her all about it. But knowing it wasn’t real didn’t affect the thrill. The power of the movies. When she grew up she was pretty sure she wanted to do something like that. Something scary. Maybe she’d write scary stories. Make films. Or do the makeup! She’d seen documentaries on the internet, people making wounds and monster heads. That would be awesome fun.
‘Last piece?’ Dad held up the final slice of pizza.
‘No, you can have it, my belly’s bursting,’ replied Alice.
‘You sure that’s the pizza, no little alien with acid blood trying to force its way out?’ Dad rubbed her belly making her laugh and wiggle away. Partly because it tickled, but mostly because if he kept squidging it she was about 87 percent sure she was going to barf pizza chunks.
Tonight’s movie of choice was The Thing. It had featured some of the absolute grossest things she’d ever seen in a movie. Just disgusting. It was already jumping into her official top ten list of best and sickest movies ever.
‘So what did you think?’ asked Dad.
‘Really, really cool! Can we watch that one again soon? God, the bit where that guy’s whole body opens up to be like a giant monster mouth and bites that other guy’s arms off! So cool!’
‘No, no, no, when his head breaks off and turns into a big ol’ spider crab thingy, that’s the real topper.’
Alice looked at the time: ten past eleven. Awesome. Though she was starting to feel a little tired, not that she’d want her dad to see that. Cool kids didn’t get tired at baby times.
‘Oh—’ Dad looked at his watch, then jumped up grabbing his wallet and keys off the side table. ‘Grab your coat and boots, we’ve gotta make a quick—and I mean super-double-quick—trip to the shop.’
Alice hopped up and started pushing her feet into her boots. ‘Why do we need to go now?’
‘I told your mum I’d grab a few things on my way home from work. I forgot. Again. If we leave now and drive at slightly faster than the legal limit, we should make the shop before it closes and be back with you curled up in bed before your tipsy mum gets home from her wine and complaining night.’
Alice laughed, threw on her coat, and followed her dad outside, pausing whilst he locked up behind them. It was starting to get a little chilly out this late, and she zipped up to stop the cool breeze getting i
n.
‘Wow, would you look at that sky tonight,’ said Dad. Alice looked up; the sun had long since ducked down out of view, but the usual black sheet speckled with pinpricks of brilliant white had an oddly yellow hue to it tonight.
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Alice, as she and her dad looked in the direction of Apoc Hill, the yellow smear seeming to originate from behind its distant bulk.
‘Yeah. Strange, though. I’ve never seen it that colour after the Sun’s dropped. Come on, less looking, more moving.’ He unlocked the car and shepherded Alice towards the passenger seat, before scooting round to the driver’s side and jumping in. ‘Seatbelt.’ Alice clicked hers in place as her dad twisted the key in the ignition and backed out the driveway at the hurry up.
‘You didn’t look both ways!’ said Alice.
‘I looked, I looked.’ replied Dad. ‘I think so. I’ll look next time.’ Dad turned the wheel, hit the accelerator and the car leapt forwards, momentarily pinning Alice to her seat. ‘Sorry! Sorry, that’s a little too fast, we’ve got time.’
‘Safety first. Roads are a dangerous place.’
‘That’s right. Good girl.’
Alice flicked on the radio, it was set to one of her Dad’s golden oldies stations, some man was yelling about saving the Queen. ‘Who’s this, Dad?’
‘Ah, this is The Sex Pistols. A punk band from the dark ages. Your mum used to like jumping around to this one when we first met, believe it or not. Back when she had spiky purple hair.’
Alice had seen the pictures; Mum with crazy cool hair and ripped up jeans, striking an angry pose. Alice had asked if she could have her hair cut all short and messy and dyed bright purple too, her mum had said definitely not. Which seemed a bit unfair to Alice.
‘Dad! Your voice is even worse than the proper singers!’
Apocalypse Hill (Apoc Hill Miniseries Book 1) Page 4
