Dead Man at the Door

by Anthony Masters

  ‘Let’s believe you’re right,’ said Gary doubtfully. ‘But what does he want with him? With me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied anxiously.

  ‘Then how can you be certain he won’t do any harm?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just know Ted has to see it through – and that luckily he’s got you to see it through with.’

  ‘Not lucky for me,’ muttered Gary.

  ‘What else can anyone do?’ she asked.

  ‘Maybe we should all leave the island,’ Gary blurted out. ‘Then it’ll stop happening.’

  Esmé shrugged. ‘It’s not as easy as that.’ She looked impatient.

  ‘Did you manage to get Ted’s drawing of the aquarium?’

  ‘No. In the end I knew I just couldn’t go behind his back and steal it.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve got to get home. Do you want to come back for something to eat?’

  ‘No thanks.’ He couldn’t face the Robertses, their suffering and the questions they would ask. Not now.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I’ll stay here for a bit.’

  ‘Be careful.’ She looked up at the cliffs. ‘There’s something here.’

  ‘Drowned seamen?’ Gary tried to be scoffing, and failed miserably.

  ‘I don’t know what it is. But there’s something powerful – always has been. I think that’s why we can see him.’

  ‘I wanted to talk to him,’ said Gary with a rush of confidence. ‘I called to him.’

  ‘Don’t try again.’ She grabbed his wrists, and her grip was very strong. ‘Please don’t try. Come back with me.’

  ‘No. I want to think.’

  ‘Not here.’

  ‘It’s the place to think, isn’t it? You said he wasn’t dangerous.’ For some reason he wanted to hurt her.

  ‘It’s here,’ she said. ‘It’s like he might be mixing in bad company. Why don’t we go back to your place?’ She let his wrists go, looking defeated.

  ‘No. Honestly.’ He was determined.

  ‘Promise me you won’t speak to him – try to reach him? In the garage, yes. But not here.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Really promise?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll see you. Be careful.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Gary. ‘Your parents won’t come tonight, will they?’ That could ruin everything, he thought.

  ‘No. I shan’t tell them.’

  ‘What will you tell them?’

  ‘I shall say – you’ve seen Ted – and he’s coming back very soon – and they’re not to worry.’

  ‘Will they accept that?’ said Gary doubtfully, thinking they’d be very unusual parents if they did.

  She turned away and began to run up the chine steps. ‘They’ll have to,’ she said.

  *

  Esmé’s scream rang out a few seconds later, followed by another. Without thinking, Gary raced up the steps, calling her name. When he found her, she was alone, crouching, covering her eyes.

  ‘Esmé.’

  ‘Help me,’ she whispered.

  Gary put his arms round her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I saw someone.’

  ‘The young man?’

  ‘He didn’t have a face,’ she said. ‘He didn’t have a face.’

  Gary hugged her closer, but she kept her hands firmly over her eyes.

  ‘He did that to me once,’ said Gary. ‘In the garage. Maybe he can’t help it.’

  ‘He can. I know he can. He was laughing. Not out loud – more in my mind. But he was laughing all right.’

  Gently Gary pushed her hands away from her eyes. ‘Listen.’ He wanted to comfort her, to humour her.

  ‘What?’ She looked up at him curiously, almost suspiciously.

  ‘I’ve got an idea. I should tell the young man we don’t want to stop him reaching Ted. That we want to help him.’

  ‘I don’t know –’

  Gary felt a momentary impatience.

  ‘Let me try,’ he said eagerly.

  ‘You must be careful. And only on the beach.’

  ‘You mean he might want to push me over the cliffs?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Esmé. ‘I just don’t know.’ Then she seemed to make up her mind again. ‘His strength is very powerful,’ she said.

  ‘Let’s walk up the chine together.’

  I’m OK,’ she said indignantly.

  ‘Please,’ said Gary firmly. ‘Let’s go together.’

  Ten minutes later, Gary was back on the beach. The wind was turning to gale force and the breakers were even more ferocious. For a while, Gary paced up and down, making sure that he stayed within sight of Black Gull Chine. After all, he reasoned, this was where the Watchers were meant to be, and if they had any power over the young man in the leather jacket, well, this was a good place for Gary to try and get his message through.

  He continued pacing for another half-hour, but nothing happened. Gary scanned the white cliffs, watched great flights of sea-birds soar above him, but there was no sign, no shape, not even a shadow. Idly, he wandered over to the cliff-face and scrutinized the chalk, looking for fossils. It was something to do, after all. But there was nothing on the pitted surface except – what was this under a crumbling overhang surmounted by a scratched arrow? Gary got down on his hands and knees and stared into a small cavity. He pressed the chalky clay and it gave way to reveal a small hole, shallow and dry. There was something in it – what looked like a leaf from an artist’s sketch-pad. As he pulled it out, he saw that the sheet of paper appeared fresh and was neatly folded. Gary straightened it out and the first shock wave hit him.

  The drawing was made in black crayon and showed a wrecked car on the end of a tow truck. In front of the truck was a steel shutter with the legend JACKSON’S GARAGE on the top. Underneath were three words, printed in the same black crayon. They seemed to leap out of the page at him. WHO ARE YOU? A letter to the ghost? The waves boomed relentlessly behind him, and as Gary stared at the drawing he knew that someone was watching him.

  Ten

  Gary rose abruptly and turned round to see the young man walking out of the breakers towards him. His face was blank and his eyes had an inward expression just like Ted’s. Gary stood his ground, although he was trembling so much that he could hardly catch his breath. He felt as if he was going down in a violently speeding lift. Instinctively he held up the drawing and shouted, ‘Who are you?’

  His voice seemed stifled but the young man stopped. For a moment his eyes appeared to focus. You’re not flesh and blood, Gary told himself over and over again. You can’t hurt me.

  The young man moved towards him, and as he did so Gary felt an icy chill spreading through his body.

  ‘Stay there – you’re hurting me,’ he yelled. His fingers were numb and painful. ‘Don’t try to frighten me – not like you did Esmé.’

  The young man’s eyes were so pale they were almost white, and the pupils seemed to swim horribly, like amoebas. He was wringing wet and his hands were veined and pallid.

  A vibration seemed to fill Gary’s freezing body and there was a buzzing in his ears. It was like static, he thought, which they so often picked up on Dad’s car radio. But something was coming through the static, and at first Gary couldn’t make out what it was. Then he realized it was a voice.

  ‘That girl.’

  ‘I can’t hear.’

  ‘That girl.’

  ‘Esmé. She’s Ted’s sister.’

  ‘That girl.’

  ‘I told you – she’s Ted’s sister. What do you want with him?’

  ‘You are between us.’

  ‘No. We don’t mean you any harm.’

  ‘You are between us.’ The static surged and the thin voice was almost inaudible.

  ‘I want to know who you are.’

  ‘You are in the way.’

  ‘Don’t you understand? I want to know who you are.’

  ‘I lost
him.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I lost him.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘You’re an enemy.’

  ‘No!’

  Gary was thrown against the cliff by a force so strong that his head was filled with nauseous pain. The young man hadn’t moved an inch. His expression had changed, however. His pale eyes were full of a burning anger.

  ‘I’ve lost him.’

  But the static was so bad now that everything the young man said was blurred and distorted. Even so, Gary couldn’t mistake the dreadful note of sorrow beneath the anger in his voice.

  ‘Listen,’ said Gary. ‘Come to Jackson’s Garage. Where you came before. He’ll be there. We’ll both be there. Tonight.’

  ‘Not you.’ Gary could just make out the words.

  ‘I have to look after him. I dreamt the dream too. We share it.’

  ‘Not you.’

  ‘What do you want with him?’

  But there was only static now and a huge wave reared up, the spray thick and cloud-like. It covered the young man, and then it covered Gary. When he had blinked the salt out of his eyes, the young man had gone.

  ‘Mum.’

  She was cooking, and the kitchen seemed to be completely enveloped in steam.

  ‘Well?’ She had been angry with him for staying out so long without contacting her. Dad was still in the shop, but she had told him emphatically that he was very upset too. Neither was she at all mollified when Gary described how he had found Ted.

  ‘Silly boy. Running away like that.’

  ‘He was unhappy at home.’

  ‘Why didn’t he talk it out with them?’

  ‘He couldn’t.’

  ‘Rubbish.’

  ‘Anyway, he won’t go home until he’s talked it over with me.’

  At that point his father came in and Gary had to give his explanation all over again.

  ‘These Islanders –’ said his father.

  ‘Dad –’

  ‘So when are you going to see him?’ asked Mum.

  ‘He’s coming round here.’

  ‘Is he now?’ she snapped.

  ‘We can go out somewhere,’ said Gary feebly, realizing his grand plan was falling apart.

  ‘You’re not going out anywhere. I’m cooking your supper.’

  ‘Mum –’

  ‘He’d better come here and have supper with us. What time’s he coming?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘Well, really,’ she sighed.

  ‘Typical,’ said his father.

  His mother interrupted before his father could continue. ‘All right. I’ll save him something.’

  ‘Mum –’

  ‘What now, for Heaven’s sake?’ she said impatiently, shutting the oven door briskly.

  ‘Can he stay the night?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ began Dad. ‘His parents will –’

  ‘You’ll have to ring his parents,’ said his mother. ‘You’ve got to ring them anyway. Try to explain to them.’ She looked at Gary steadily. ‘You’re not encouraging him to play silly games?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Promise?’ she insisted.

  ‘Promise.’

  ‘All right. Go and ring them.’

  ‘Mrs Roberts?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sounded distraught.

  ‘It’s Gary Baxter.’

  ‘Thank God you’ve phoned. Esmé tells me you’ve seen him, but he’s not coming home yet. What –’

  ‘He’ll be back tomorrow morning,’ said Gary quickly, before she could continue.

  ‘But where’s he staying tonight? Is he wandering about all over the –’

  ‘He’s going to stay here,’ said Gary nervously.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Just for the night. He’ll be back in the morning.’

  ‘I can’t have that,’ she said angrily. ‘He must come home at once.’

  ‘He’s unhappy,’ pleaded Gary. ‘He needs time to sort himself out.’

  ‘We’re his parents. We’re unhappy too. His place is here. I must speak to him.’

  Gary winced at the pain and yearning in her voice but he knew that he had to stand his ground. ‘He’s not here yet.’

  ‘When will he be?’ she demanded.

  ‘Soon.’ Gary realized he must sound deliberately evasive, but for the moment he couldn’t think of any way of helping her.

  ‘Right.’ She conferred with someone in the room, presumably her husband. Then she began again, her voice almost crackling with anger. ‘Please ring us when he arrives.’

  ‘OK,’ Gary replied reluctantly.

  ‘And my husband will come straight over and collect him.’

  ‘No,’ said Gary desperately, knowing how rude and unhelpful he must sound.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I mean – he can’t come home yet.’

  ‘He won’t have any choice – I can assure you of that.’

  ‘Gary.’ His mother was standing in the doorway. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘Not a lot.’ This is all getting out of control, he thought miserably.

  ‘Don’t be cheeky.’ She paused. ‘Do you want me to speak to her?’

  Gary covered the mouthpiece and held the phone away. ‘They mustn’t come and collect him,’ he said urgently. ‘Ted’ll just run for it again.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked his mother with sudden gentleness.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is becoming very serious.’

  ‘It is serious, Mum.’

  ‘Right – give me the phone –’

  ‘You won’t –’ began Gary.

  ‘Give me the phone.’

  ‘OK.’

  She snatched it away from him. ‘Mrs Roberts? It’s Mrs Baxter, Gary’s mum.’ An immediate flood of protest began, but Mrs Baxter was firm. ‘I quite understand how you feel, Mrs Roberts. Heaven knows, I’d feel the same if it was my boy and Gary can be difficult enough. But have you considered –’ And she plunged into a long and very reasonable conversation which included such phrases as ‘cooling off’ and ‘having a bit of space’ – all kinds of sentences that Gary had never heard her use before. It was weird; he had completely underestimated her, failed to realize that she could understand a situation so well and put it across in words so adroitly. By the time she had finished, Mrs Roberts’ mood seemed to have changed completely. Eventually she rang off and then turned back to Gary.

  ‘Well done, Mum –’ he began enthusiastically.

  But she cut him short immediately. ‘Now, listen. She’s prepared to have him stay tonight, but he’s to go home first thing tomorrow – and I’ll take him.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ Gary replied huskily.

  ‘I still don’t understand what it’s all about, but I trust you, Gary. You haven’t let me or your dad down in the past, and we don’t want it to happen now.’

  ‘No, Mum.’

  ‘If your friend’s in trouble – in genuine trouble – we’ll want to know about it.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘And don’t keep no-ing and yes-ing.’

  ‘Mum –’

  ‘Well?’

  Without saying any more, Gary went over and kissed her.

  A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

  ‘It’s him,’ said Gary.

  ‘Go down, then,’ replied Mum.

  ‘This is all getting a bit much,’ said Mr Baxter.

  Gary ran down and opened up. Ted looked smaller somehow and very frightened.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Ted sounded defensive.

  ‘You look awful.’

  ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘It’s OK for you to stay. Your parents know.’

  ‘They’re not coming –’ He backed away into the darkness.

  ‘No. I said – you can stay. Mum’s got supper.’

  ‘I don’t want any,’ he said immediately.

  ‘Yo
u’ll have to. It was she who convinced your mum you could stay.’

  Ted nodded slowly.

  ‘After supper we can go in the garage.’

  ‘I’m scared of him. I think he wants to kill me.’ Ted came over the threshold. His jeans were dirty and he looked as if he had been crying.

  ‘No. He doesn’t mean any harm,’ said Gary with as much confidence as he could muster. Perhaps the young man only meant harm to him, not Ted. After all he had said that Gary was standing between them. Suddenly all Gary wanted to do was to get rid of Ted, never have to see him again. But would the dreams stop? ‘Come in and have supper. Now,’ said Gary with sudden, grim decision.

  Ted obediently followed him upstairs, and as they went Gary felt more and more like a reassuring adult. It was a dreadful responsibility and he didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

  Supper was a stiff and nerve-racking affair. Ted answered Mrs Baxter’s desperately kind, if probing, questions in monosyllables, Gary talked about fossils – a subject which was greeted by a marked lack of enthusiasm from his mother and father and total apathy from Ted – while Dad talked about a salesman who had conned him. All the conversations seemed to Gary like people talking to themselves, and he was very relieved when the meal was over.

  ‘We’re just going out, Mum,’ said Gary hopefully.

  ‘Where?’ she said abruptly.

  ‘Down the town.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘An hour.’

  ‘And then straight back,’ she stated while Mr Baxter sniffed disapprovingly in the background.

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  ‘All right. Off you go.’

  ‘Mrs Baxter –’ began Ted in a voice so low she could hardly hear.

  ‘Speak up, lad,’ snapped Gary’s father.

  ‘Mrs Baxter –’

  ‘Yes?’ she said gently, frowning at her husband.

  ‘Thanks for supper.’

  ‘That’s all right. Have a good walk.’

  Eleven

  They ran downstairs, and as soon as Gary had shut the door he said, ‘We’ll go for a quick walk in case they’re watching from the window, and then back into the garage.’

  ‘Suppose they’ve locked it?’

  ‘I’ve got one of the spare keys,’ said Gary. ‘I borrowed it before you came.’

  ‘Well done.’ Ted showed some animation for the first time, but he was still a long way from his usual ebullient, confident personality. They walked down the narrow high street in silence. There was nothing to talk about. Gary could feel the fear growing in both of them.