Sandra was gazing at the mirror above the sink. For a moment that Ray couldn't help attempting to prolong, he was able to believe that nothing was amiss except a last trace of his dizziness. Couldn't this be why he found it hard to focus on the reflection in the glass? He took an uncertain step towards Sandra, which brought him too close to deny what she was seeing. It felt as if the wordless peace they'd shared last night—a calm that might have been the culmination of all their years together, of no longer needing to speak—had abruptly ended. His reflection was in focus, as it had already been, and so was the reflection of the bathroom. Only Sandra's image in the mirror was so indistinct that Ray felt as if he were straining to distinguish it in utter darkness.
Perhaps it wasn't quite that bad, he was desperate to think. As his eyes began to sting he managed to make out her face, even if the features were softened by the blur. Now it looked as if the section of the mirror within her outline had been transformed into mist or deep water, through which he was attempting to grasp the sight of her. He was struggling to recapture its clarity when Sandra reached for his hand. "You see it too," she said.
He thought she was reaching for solidity, and he hoped he could provide enough—hoped with a fervour that left words behind. As her hand closed on his he grew dizzy again, terrified that she might feel as her reflection looked. For a breath, or rather while he fought to draw one, he had the impression that she'd grown too fluid for him to take a firm hold—as indefinite as water. Then she gripped his hand tight, and her grasp seemed to regain substance. "That's all that's left of me," she whispered.
"What do you mean? You're still very much here." Dismay made his voice harsh until he brought it under control. "Never mind how it looks," he said and did his best to agree with his words. "How do you feel?"
"I've kept trying to tell you. More alive than I have for months."
"Isn't that what matters, then?" However absurdly grotesque it felt to say so while he gazed at her imprecise reflection, Ray added "Maybe we needn't care why too much."
"I wish it were that simple. What I said to you in the church, I wasn't thinking. I was being selfish."
This bewildered Ray as much as the sight in the mirror had. "Why should you think that?"
"It isn't only me, is it? It's Tim and Jonquil too."
Ray was dismayed to realise that he'd been so grateful to learn that she believed—indeed, welcomed—what he had deduced that he'd put the teenagers out of his mind. He was still more disconcerted to hear himself suggesting "If you don't think it's doing you any harm..."
"It's not the same or anything like it," Sandra said, turning from the mirror to give him a shocked look. "Maybe it's brought me more life, but they already have theirs, and they don't want that kind."
He felt pitifully glad of the excuse to look away from the mirror. "I shouldn't be so thoughtless."
"No wonder we both are with all this happening. I've got it to thank for taking away the pain and all the other bad things. It did that first night when I stayed on the balcony." Ray gathered this was meant to reassure him and perhaps herself as well before she said "But it's a bad thing too, isn't it? What are we going to do about Tim and Jonquil?"
"All we can do—" Ray said and winced as her hand clenched on his. Somebody was knocking at the door.
He was so confused by events that he was close to fancying the unacknowledged subject of their discussion had come to put a stop to it, and then Doug called "It's me and Nat. Is it convenient to have a word?"
"Don't you believe in knocking twice?" Ray said without managing to laugh.
"That's the sort of thing we want to talk about if you'll let us."
"Just give me time to get dressed," Sandra called as she left the bathroom and then released Ray's hand.
He waited while she donned not just a dress. He wondered if she'd put on her hat and sunglasses as a sign to Doug and Natalie, since she murmured "I'll help you convince them."
As soon as she opened the door she reverted to being maternal. "Doug, aren't you well?"
"Just a bit tired."
"Why, did something else happen in the night?" Ray said and rather hoped. "I'm afraid we were asleep."
"You shouldn't be afraid at all," Natalie protested. "If you're both sleeping, that's what we like to hear."
"You haven't told us what happened," Sandra said.
"Not a thing," Doug said in weary triumph. "Maybe Jules and I made sure it didn't. We've been up all night keeping watch."
"Why did it take both of you?" Sandra was eager to learn.
"Me at the front and him at the back. Maybe we nodded off in our chairs now and then, but we're certain nobody came anywhere near."
"You think that's why nobody did up here?"
She might have been asking Natalie and Doug as well as Ray. The only response, if it could be called one, came from Doug. "Shall we talk inside?"
"Or outside if you like," Natalie said. "Everyone's by the pool."
As she brought an extra chair onto the balcony Ray asked Doug "So were you just helping to watch because of William?"
"Not just him."
"Jonquil?" Sandra prompted. "And Tim?"
"Not them at all. Especially not Tim. He's never been disturbed at night that we know of." As Sandra made to reply Doug said "We want to show dad he oughtn't to believe any of the stuff in that book."
"None of it?" Ray was taken aback by his own bitterness. "Not even all the chapters about the rest of Greece?"
"You know what we mean, dad. The kind of thing you've been bothering people with."
"The sort of question the police turned up to stop me asking at the church."
"I hope you don't think we had anything to do with that. And I don't believe you can say they meant to stop you either."
"They did, though, didn't they? You must have seen how fast the chap I was talking to fled when he saw them."
"Maybe he was running away from you," Natalie seemed sad to think, "like the disabled lady did."
"Sorry, Natalie, you weren't there," Sandra said. "Doug, why else do you think they came to the church?"
"We'll never know, will we? I should think they were looking for someone. They left speedily enough when they saw whoever it was wasn't there."
"That's because they scared off my informant." Having Sandra on his side emboldened Ray to add "I think they'd heard I was asking too many questions around the town. Perhaps someone called them. I wouldn't be surprised if the woman in the icon shop did."
"Actually," Natalie said, "maybe we did have something to do with them."
"How's that, Natalie?" Sandra said at once.
"That boatman was threatening to call them, wasn't he? It looks to me as if he did."
"And they just happened to be two of the police from Sunset Beach?" Ray saw this didn't prove much, and tried to think what did. "You should ask Julian about the way we were interrogated," he said. "Why we went to the beach with the cave, how we knew it was there, why I was in the cave—you'd have thought we were criminals. And I don't care what anybody says, you need to think why the man who questioned us lied about how long Ditton had been dead."
"Don't say that," Natalie pleaded. "You need to care what we're saying to you."
"We do," Sandra said, "but it has to go both ways."
"I'm not sure I understand you."
"Aren't you still afraid there might be some disease on the island?"
"Not since Jamie told us what must have happened to Mr Ditton, but I don't mind admitting that was a relief."
"Maybe you shouldn't feel so relieved." As Natalie's eyes widened to magnify her concern Sandra said "Maybe you should keep looking out for symptoms, just not the kind you thought."
"What kind, then?" Doug said before Natalie could.
"Sleepiness to start with," Sandra said, then touched her hat and glasses, a gesture that resembled a parody of an observance. "Sensitivity to sunlight but first of all this," she said, fingering the mark on her neck.
Now Doug seemed even less ready to speak than his sister, who was left to say "Symptoms of what?"
"I think you both have to know. What your father has been trying to tell you is the case."
Natalie closed her eyes as if this could shut off the situation. "Don't say dad has you thinking that as well," Doug protested.
"I'm quite able to think for myself at my age, thank you." Less sharply Sandra said "I gave it a lot of thought last night, and there are all sorts of things we should have noticed."
"Such as what?"
"You could try listening to yourself a bit more, and Pris too."
"I don't think we've said anything to give you the idea you seem to have."
"You did when you were translating. Don't you remember?" When Doug made his reluctance plain Sandra said "The man at the bonfire said those people were leeches, you told us. And the churchwarden if that's what we should call him, you said he was talking about transfusions. Don't you see that means they get blood on somebody else's behalf?"
"It doesn't have to mean that," Natalie said, "and I'm sure it doesn't. We've no reason to believe they were the same people either."
"That's because their faces wouldn't stay still in the church. I wonder if William saw them better than we did."
"Please don't bring him into it, mother, and certainly don't ask him."
"I wasn't about to." With enough frustration to be expressing Ray's as well Sandra said "But can you honestly think that man would have driven them out of his church just for giving blood?"
"I don't know what his beliefs may tell him to do. I don't suppose you do either, Doug."
As Doug gave his head a sad-faced shake Ray was provoked to point out "There's something you both know that I haven't told your mother."
Only Sandra spoke. "What's that, Ray?"
"When we were under the monastery you both saw that cell with the marks on the wall."
Doug responded, though not immediately. "That's how some people keep track of the days."
"Not days down there, though. You saw what they were, Natalie, and you would have said except for William." When she closed her eyes once more Ray said "They were years, Sandra. Nearly four hundred of them."
"Just because they were in hundreds," Doug said, "it needn't mean that at all."
"But there was that motto in the chapel," Sandra reminded him. "Feed on the immortal and the immortal feeds on you."
"We weren't sure if it said that, and in any case all it has to mean is somebody who knew the legend wrote it on the wall."
"How much more are you going to dismiss like that? Do you really think we're so senile we're deluded?" Before Natalie or Doug could say what their faces already conveyed, Sandra said "And none of us knew about the monastery when Tim and Jonquil had their dreams. They dreamt about something that lived in the dark, if you remember."
"No need to bring them into it either," Doug said.
"What else are you going to refuse to look at?" As Ray grew tense in case she meant to talk about the teenagers Sandra said "People have been trying to let us know what's going on here ever since we came. We should have noticed how everyone is."
"You can't believe everyone is, I'm not going to say it," Natalie begged.
"Not even most of them. More likely just a few, but they all know. That's why they're ashamed of being glad we're here, can't you tell?"
"Likely," Doug repeated in despair as Ray said "And there are those names in the graveyard."
"Dad," Natalie said, "according to you they're supposed to be kept alive, not dead."
"They must have made some kind of mistake."
This seemed uselessly feeble, and he saw Sandra thought so. He shouldn't have mentioned the names at all. Perhaps they'd been victims of greed, he thought, and instantly knew that Ditton must have been one. He was wondering if he dared make the point when Sandra said "I'd like either of you to explain about the mirrors. How many have you seen since we came to the island?"
"Look, maybe some of the people believe the legend," Doug said. "That doesn't prove a thing except they do."
"Then here's some proof you won't be able to ignore," Sandra said and stood up. "Come and look at me in the mirror."
"Mother," Natalie pleaded, but Sandra was already on her way. "Yes, both of you," Ray managed to urge without faltering. "Go and see."
He sounded as if he didn't want to, which might well be the case. He limped hastily after them as Sandra opened the bathroom door wide and advanced to the mirror. He had scarcely joined them when Natalie turned away, immediately followed by her brother. "Mum, that's just a flaw in the glass," Doug said."
Sandra swung around, looking as triumphant as her sunglasses allowed. "What is?"
"The way you were a bit blurred," Natalie said. "That's what you meant, isn't it? Ask Evadne to replace the mirror."
"Can't you even bear to look?"
"We did," Doug said as he and Natalie moved away from the bathroom. "Please don't keep looking at it. It can't do you any good."
Sandra tramped out of the bathroom and slammed the door. "You really are determined not to see, both of you."
As Natalie dabbed at her eyes so fast and fiercely that she seemed bent on denying the action, Doug said "We just wanted to help if we could. We weren't expecting this."
"Not both of you," Natalie said almost to herself.
"We've been together too long to part now," Sandra said.
"We wouldn't want you to," Natalie cried. "But you don't have to agree about everything."
"We don't, but we do about this."
"Then I can't think what else we can do for you," Doug said as though exhaustion had overtaken him.
"Maybe you needn't do anything," Ray said. "You might remember we're still your parents. We can still know best now and then."
Though he felt embarrassingly banal, the rebuke appeared to work. Both their children looked defeated or at any rate resigned; "Come down when you're ready," Doug surrendered to saying, "and we can all decide what we're doing for the day."
Natalie followed him out of the apartment, only to turn to their parents. "If it helps you to believe all that," she said as best she could for the infirmness of her mouth, "I don't suppose we should take away your faith. But you shouldn't expect anyone else to believe, and I hope you won't try to make us any more."
Once the door closed Sandra said "Was there anything else we could have told them?"
"Nothing that was likely to convince them." Just the same, Ray felt encouraged to add "When I was at Sunset, Beach and found out everybody was a newcomer I heard a young chap talking about a dream he'd had of being visited at night, and he had the mark on his arm."
"I don't think they would have given that much credence."
"But they ought to have seen what the priest on the beach meant. He was pointing at you and Tim and Jonquil, I'm certain. So was the woman I chased, if I'm not mistaken."
"They'd say you were."
"And then she saw three of those, those creatures waiting. Didn't you?"
"I'm sorry, Ray, I don't think anyone but you did."
The question had suggested one that made him more nervous. "Have you ever seen your, your visitor?"
"I think I dream when he comes instead."
Ray found the nonchalance of their discussion grotesque, which began to infuriate him. "But Julian saw one. He even touched it," he complained. "He simply won't admit what it was like."
"Maybe we shouldn't expect anyone to believe us. He was our best chance."
"We ought for Tim's and Jonquil's sakes." With mounting anger Ray said "Doesn't anybody realise what those women on the bus were doing? They were blessing just you three."
"Unless they were trying to fend us off."
"Don't say things like that, Sandra. Don't even think them." He took her hand and told himself it didn't feel even marginally less substantial than it should. "I wish somebody had seen what I saw under the monastery," he said. "That might have convince
d them."
"What are you saying you saw?"
"Remember Irene on the train said the oldest folk took refuge there. When everybody else had gone back up I saw one run off into the dark." Ray took a firmer grip on Sandra's hand as he said "I can't tell you how old it was. Maybe as old as the marks on the wall of the cell."
Sandra matched his grasp for fierceness. "Do you think that's where I'll have to end up?"
"Of course I don't, and you won't be," Ray vowed. "You're coming home with me."
"If they'll let us go."
"Why wouldn't, wouldn't anyone? What's making you say that?"
"Evadne said they often cancel trips off the island, didn't she? Maybe William and Jonquil were right and they mean to keep anyone they want here."
His panic didn't quite rob Ray of thoughts, so that he was able to realise "We've seen people leaving. Certainly we'll be going home."
"Then Jonquil and Tim will, so we shouldn't have to worry about them after tomorrow night."
This only revived Ray's concern about the meantime. "We'd better go and find everyone," he said, "and let's try and think what we can do."
Did she brace herself in preparation for the sunlight as he opened the door? Surely she needn't when the sky was so overcast. As she followed him down the steps into the playground the eager faces showed their teeth at them. William was swimming up and down the pool in a flurry of ripples while his parents gave him their dutiful attention. They and the others were lying on sunbeds, and Tim and Jonquil each had the shade of an umbrella. Both wore hats and sunglasses, and Ray was tempted to declare why, but how could he while William would hear? "Sorry we kept you all waiting," he called instead.
"Blame me," Sandra said. "Another sleepy start. I expect I must be slowing down."
Ray sensed how relieved Doug and Natalie were that she seemed to have reverted to normal. William swam to the near edge of the pool and grabbed the top rung of a ladder. "How long are you going to live, gran?" he said.
For some moments there was silence while quivering ripples dissipated around him, and then Julian said low but harshly "Is that your doing, Jonquil?"
Jonquil turned her unreadable lenses towards him. "What am I supposed to have done now?"
Thirteen Days By Sunset Beach Page 23
