Now I was seeing things.
I closed early. There was no point in staying around, although I couldn’t summon up the confidence to tell Joyce. I locked up and went over to the Co-op to do my shopping. The shelves were still looking pretty bare; evidently supplies were still struggling to get there.
I filled up on what essentials I could buy, along with several bottles of cheap wine. I went to the checkout, paid, and carried the bags out to my car. I opened up the boot and lifted both bags into the back.
“Mum needs help”.
I froze.
Slowly, fearfully, I turned my head. She was stood there on the edge of the car park, dressed in the same tatty blue coat. Her face was pale; her milky blue, washed out eyes stared at me with concern.
“She needs help, she’s fallen down and I can’t get her to wake up.”
I was almost too frightened to speak. I swallowed and said: “What’s happened?”
“We were playing and she fell over and now she can’t move. You’ve got to come quick”.
A cold sweat was gathering on my forehead.
“Come on,” she said, pushing her way through the bushes that bordered the car park. I couldn’t help myself; I couldn’t possibly turn away. I closed the boot, locked the car and went after her.
Behind the bushes was a tall wire fence. There was a small hole in it, large enough to crawl through. She was on the other side already, skipping into a dense gathering of trees. I was dressed in no condition for this kind of thing: I wasn’t wearing heels, thankfully, but my Ugg boots were hardly fit for purpose.
I bent down and squeezed through the hole in the fence, my coat’s collar and hood getting stuck on the torn steel wires as I passed through as best I could.
I was in a dense gathering of tall, but young fir trees. Pushing through the branches I realised I had walked into an enclosed area surrounding an electricity substation, or whatever these stone power buildings were called. It was a small brick shed with a tall pylon next to it, flowing wires down inside.
I heard Chloe call to me; I saw her peer out from behind the building. I jogged after her. The other side of the small enclosure had a wooden fence, and she was squeezing through a gap between missing fence panels.
The ground at least was fairly firm here, but it was still hard to run on. I pushed through the sharp young branches and managed to squeeze between the fence panels.
When I was through I found myself in the forecourt of an abandoned petrol station. Closed for many years, the old looking pumps were rusted and smashed up; the shop was boarded over with steel panels. I’d never been out here before. Strange how you can so easily lose your bearings; I didn’t know quite where I was.
I was on the edge of town somewhere. After the petrol station there were no other buildings, just open ground, field after field. Chloe was already on the other side of the forecourt, supernaturally quickly ahead. She climbed over a dry stone wall and disappeared into the adjoining field.
On solid ground I was able to move quicker. By the time I reached the wall there was no sign of her. But as I lifted my head, I could see her again, in the far corner of the field, jumping, waving her arms from side to side.
I wondered what on earth I was doing, but I couldn’t give up the chase. I climbed the wall and I trudged through the long grass to the far corner, slowly and with difficulty. I didn’t like the look of the sky: it was dark grey, the clouds thick, jagged and dangerously ominous.
I crossed from field to field, uphill, one into the next, each one more overgrown and more of a challenge. Eventually, the dry-stone walls faded; neglect had let them crumble. I was in rough, untamed landscape. I found myself struggling through thick heather, my trousers scratched and scraped by thorns. My boots, long-since soaked through, kept getting caught on branches and under roots. I was lucky not to rip my feet out of them.
Chloe appeared and disappeared like a phantom, unseen for short periods, but always making herself known to keep me on track.
I was sweating; the weather was cold, but I was sweating profusely. I was unfit and unprepared. I looked back towards ______. She had led me quite a way; over half-a-mile uphill, probably further – I’m not much of a judge of these things.
Finally, she led me to a footpath, although I had to pass through a muddy ditch to get there. I tried to jump it, but missed and ended up tripping and falling, my feet sinking into the mud and me striking down against a sloping bank of stones and wet soil. I swore loudly – but she was nowhere near to hear me. Whenever I shouted for her or cursed her she wasn’t there.
The path was a mixed blessing. It was easier to walk on but it ran mercilessly straight up the hill, a tough ungradual ascent. It headed towards a patch of forest between two high hill peaks. Breathing heavily, I struggled on, the face of Chloe ever appearing at any moment when I was tempted to turn back and give up.
At one point, I stopped for rest on a tree stump. I was allowed less them a few moments of respite before she shouted for me: “Hurry, she needs help!” I almost screamed at her. I groaned out aloud. This was insane.
I followed the path finally to the wooded valley inbetween the hills. I yelled, “How much further?” to her as she led the way through the trees. As ever, she refused to answer. As I continued deep into the woods, I heard the sound of water, the rush of the river flowing from the peaks – had I come so far? I continued on for several minutes, keeping just ahead of sheer exhaustion and wondering when or where this might end.
I arrived at the river, here running wide across a slope of rocks. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, and scanned, full of frustration, for Chloe. As my eyes searched through the trees, I suddenly found her – Rose.
She was lying face-down flat on the other side of the river, her dark red coat standing out against the dull browns and greens. I shouted to her, but got not reply.
The frustration and anger melted away; I had to get across. Fortunately, the river was quite shallow, I was more afraid of slipping than I was of getting wet – every inch of my body seemed already to be soaked and soggy. I tried to step my away across some of the large stones, and was forced several times to simply go straight into the water – the shock of the cold went straight to my head, and now that hurt too.
Finally, I was across and stumbled down the slope to Rose. I shouted her name again. I pulled at her coat and shook her slightly, hoping for some sign of life. Jesus, she must have been out here for days, just slumped against the ground.
There was mud all over her clothes, and she was damp all over. She didn’t speak, her eyes were closed. I was about to conclude the worst, when suddenly her mouth opened and let out a slight moan. She was alive, but maybe not for long.
“Is she alright?” Chloe was suddenly stood over us.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We need to get help.” I felt my pockets. Damn it, I still didn’t have a phone! I didn’t know what to do. I had to find someone else. I couldn’t lift her down the hillside myself. She might have broken bones; I could be making things worse.
“I’ve got to get help.”
“Don’t leave her,” Chloe shrieked at me.
“You stay with her. I need to find someone who can get her down the hill.”
I went back into the woods. If I followed the river down, I was bound to bump into somebody, arrive at one of the roads at least. I found myself gradually moving out of the woods, still keeping the river in sight. I couldn’t really see anything from amongst the trees; I needed to be able to get a look at the landscape, see where I might be able to find help.
Finally, I came to the edge of the woods and found myself looking back across fields and hills. There was a footpath, I could see it. It led down towards an abandoned ruin of a barn and a farmhouse. And, yes! There were people there: two hikers. They were a long way from me though. I had to try, so I screamed. Screamed so hard my throat burned.
They didn’t hear me at first. But there was a faint echo, and after some time I saw them
look my way. I waved to them, jumped up and down, throwing my arms from side to side. They waved back at first – I had to convince them this was more than just an over-enthusiastic greeting. I threw my arms over towards the woods. Hoping they would respond to the summons.
They looked at each other, confused. Desperate, I screamed “Help me” with every bit of strength I could. That seemed to do it; they started moving in my direction and I started off in theirs. I careened down the hillside towards them, ecstatic with relief. At one point, I tripped and fell dramatically, both arms up in the air and down flat onto my chest. Fortunately, it was wet, soggy ground, but it still knocked the wind out of me. They ran quicker to help me, and eventually we met.
I explained that I’d found a woman, barely conscious and probably dying. They came with me up the hillside. I lied to them and told them that I’d been out walking. They didn’t say anything, but they could tell something was wrong; I clearly wasn’t dressed for it.
I tracked our way back to the spot quite well. Of the couple, he was a vet, which was sort of helpful. He examined her, said he didn’t think she’d broken anything, but she was frighteningly cold. She’d been up here for quite some time.
They were proper hikers. They had an ordinance survey map with them; to get help out here they’d need a helicopter and they could tell them the right grid reference – I was so relieved.
Typically, however, there was no signal for a mobile phone. The vet’s wife went off out of the woods to get a signal. He wrapped Rose in his jacket and took out his own mobile – on a different network – and started to spread out trying to get a signal himself.
When he’d moved away a little, Chloe re-appeared, walking out from behind a tree like she’d been hiding.
“Is she alright?” she said.
“She’s very sick.” I answered.
“But she’s going to be ok?”
I suddenly felt myself getting very angry. “Why don’t you leave her alone?” I cried. “This is your fault. Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”
Her face hardened suddenly, just like her mother’s.
“She’s my mum!” she hissed, through gritted teeth.
“And you’re destroying her! Just leave her alone. You’re dead, you don’t even exist!”
“She’s my mum!” she screeched, stamping her feet. “You can’t tell me what to do, you can’t!” She jumped up and down in a fury and started to scream. The sound went right through my body; it made me shiver and tremble. The pitch could’ve shattered glass.
“You can’t take my mum!” She reached down to pick up a stone and threw it at me. If flew towards my face with uncanny force and accuracy – I barely had time to dodge it. It flew over my shoulder and smacked into a tree, making a deep dent in the bark.
I looked back at her; she was gone again. She’d been so benign before, but now I was frightened. I looked suddenly at Rose and a horrible thought occurred to me: what if she’d done that to her? If she’d have hit me with that rock, she’d have knocked me out cold; little girls just couldn’t throw like that…
There was a sound behind me. Taken off-guard, I turned and screamed.
It was the vet. I felt faint suddenly; this was all taking its toll. He could see I’d been through it; he took hold of me and propped me up against a tree. He gave me some water from a travel bottle. I told him I was fine even though I clearly wasn’t.
It was almost an hour before a helicopter came; we made awkward conversation until it arrived. By that time his wife had returned and the three of us watched as they hoisted Rose inside. I pretended not to know her; I just couldn’t explain all this, all that had had happened. Because I didn’t know her, I didn’t go in the helicopter with her. I wish I had, but I just wanted to get home, somewhere safe as soon as possible.
They took her away and the vet and his wife helped me down the hillside. They took me to their Land Rover and kindly took me back home. It was almost dark by the time we started back on the roads.
I broke down and cried. It was just as we passed over the bridge to town; I don’t know why then. They looked into the backseat as I was pouring with tears. They tried to comfort me, tried to offer me their help. They knew something about all this wasn’t right.
I just wanted to get home. They took me back, I composed myself enough to say thank you. They were such nice people, but I don’t even remember their names.
I cried for hours on the sofa, and passed out at some point, I’m not sure when. I awoke, my body aching and tired, in the early morning. I was starving, I’d not eaten since the day before.
After some toast and coffee, I noticed there was a new message on the answerphone. It was the lawyers; it had to be didn’t it? I called them back straight away, just for someone to talk to.
I received a polite telling-off and a stern warning about putting things off this long. I tried to tell them it was hard, and to their credit they were very understanding; they could tell I was almost crying. I could sense the discomfort on the end of the phone. The woman seemed to want to offer advice beyond her legal remit to me; I could sense her concern, but she probably knew better than to get too involved.
I promised I would get the papers back to her tomorrow. There could be no more hiding. I looked at the phone after I put it down. What about Rose? I needed to find out what had happened to her. But I dreaded what I might find out. She might be dead. Just because she’d been rescued didn’t mean she’d survive.
I thought long and hard about it but decided to put it off. I didn’t think I could take it if she’d died. To go through all that and not make it through. I washed and dressed myself in clean clothes. I took a long walk, something to get some fresh air in my lungs and some of the depressive weight off my shoulders. It was a bad idea; my body ached and groaned from the ordeal the day before. I went to a café not far away for some breakfast, bought some nice pastries – and then went back to face my past.
I sat over the papers with a glass of wine for company. Things didn’t look good, but then again, it was the case against. Lots of gossip, lots of hearsay, lots of mud-raking... they’d dug up an old case of sexual harassment; an oily doctor who didn’t want to take no for an answer. All the bitter old hags who worked there had always held that against me; thought I’d asked for it, done it all for attention.
Unexpectedly it strengthened me. The anger, the outrage. The wrongness of it all. It awakened some fighting spirit. Weak spirit all the same, still fragile. But it was a revelation to me nonetheless. I wasn’t ready to give in to despair.
But the depth of the situation I was in was still a heavy burden. I put the papers quickly to one side as soon as I was done. Things could still get so much worse.
I looked over to the phone. I thought of Rose and of her body slumped down on the hillside. Suddenly, in some strange way, that became the crux of the argument. If she could survive, pull through in spite of it all. Then maybe I could too. But then again, if she hadn’t…
I got the hospital number from the Yellow Pages. I phoned up and spent a long time on hold before being passed from one receptionist to another.
I breathed slowly and carefully as I waited for the news. It didn’t help that I didn’t remember her last name. But not so many people get brought in by helicopter, so that narrowed it down.
She was alive. In a critical condition, but alive. She had pneumonia and a broken leg, but she was alive. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders; such relief, I can barely describe it.
I felt compelled to see her. The hospital was miles away, but I could make it before visiting hours were over. I had go back to the Co-op to get my car. Then I drove like a demon, smashing through deep puddles on still water-logged streets. I wanted to bring her something, but not really knowing what she’d like, I bought her grapes – a pleasant, well-meaning cliché.
It was even further than I thought. The nights were drawing in now; the clocks would be going back soon. I arrived with only twenty minutes of visit
ing time left and on the wrong side of the hospital. I had quite a way to go to get to Rose’s ward; I had to stop and ask directions more than once.
I introduced myself to the ward nurses and they led me to her. She was fast asleep; they said she was coming in and out of consciousness and wasn’t making much sense. Perhaps that was best, I thought. I didn’t really want to know what had happened to her on that hillside. She had most probably fallen, but there was still that unsettling possibility…
A doctor checking on another patient in the quiet, half-full ward came over to ask me some questions. I couldn’t help it; I kept up the pretence that I had seen her on the hillside for the first time ever. They were hoping I knew somebody that could help to take care of her. She didn’t seem to have any relatives that they could find. There was her husband, but they couldn’t seem to track him down.
They were hopeful that she would pull through. I sat with her a while; I wondered if she could hear me if I spoke to her. But I couldn’t think of anything to say. I thought about saying something trite like “Chloe would want you to pull through”. But I didn’t want to mention her name.
She looked so sad lying there. Blankets tucked up to her neck, her tired face, wrinkled and wrought before its time. Christ, maybe it would’ve been better if she had died. What kind of life was she living here in purgatory? Even if she pulled through, would she ever move on? Could there really ever be more for her than her already miserable existence?
I thought about saying that too, something like: “It’s time to move on Rose; time to live in the present.” But what good would that do?
Perhaps whoever they got to look after her could help her. Finally get her to get over her loss. Anything was possible, even if it probably wasn’t. I left the grapes on the side; the one futile gesture I was willing to make.
Eleven New Ghost Stories Page 12
