Secret of The Red Planet

by Chris Hawley

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  REPRIEVE

  The alarm on my mobile phone told me it was time to get up. I turned it off and climbed out of bed. I went to the window and looked out. It was still dark and the street lamps were still burning but dawn was spreading its faint glow in the East. The nights are drawing in fast, I thought to myself. I remembered that Mars was visible in the sky at that time so I decided to take my binoculars into the garden and try to see it.

  I went quietly out of the kitchen door and into the garden. The air was cool and the sky was clear. I looked up and almost immediately I saw it, small and red but glowing distinctly, rather than twinkling, like stars do. When I put the binoculars to my eyes, it was hard to hold them still, so I went inside the kitchen and took the blanket Mum used for ironing and spread it on the damp grass. I lay on my back and trained the binoculars on the tiny red ball above me. There it was, Mars! Somewhere there was Michu. What was she doing at that moment? Was it night or day? If I held the glasses very still I fancied I could see that Mars was not round but about three quarters full.

  Suddenly I had the strong feeling that Michu was talking to me. I concentrated, removing the glasses from my eyes and closing them. Yes, I was sure! It was definitely her voice. What was she saying? I couldn’t make it out. As I lay there, with my heart pounding in my chest, I heard her speak again. ‘Bill, take care, you are in great danger. But don’t fear, we are with you.’ A lump came into my throat. I offered thanks to the Almighty at that moment. Here was the strength I needed. With Michu’s support, I knew I could go through whatever it was I had to suffer.

  There was silence. That was all I was to hear, but it was enough.

  I went back to my bedroom and sat in meditation for about twenty minutes. My thoughts were all about Michu and I knew in my heart she could hear every one.

  Dad was up and about, whistling a tune as he liked to do in the mornings. It reminded me that today was the day the front page of the local paper was going to shock the town. I shuddered at the thought, but after being in contact with Michu, it no longer spelt disaster for me.

  Our newspaper was delivered every morning at around six thirty. I went to the top of the stairs and looked down at the front door. There it was, sticking out menacingly. I went back to the bedroom, lacking the courage to go down and look. I heard my father go down the stairs and I expected any minute to hear his voice roaring with rage. I went back to the top of the stairs and peeped down. The paper had gone and still no sound from Dad. Had he opened it? If so, why had he not hit the roof? I listened. I could hear him pottering about the kitchen, still whistling. There was no way he had not glanced at the headlines. He always did, as soon as he had the paper in his hands.

  After ten minutes I came to the conclusion that Sonia’s father had not carried out his threat. Strangely enough I felt a pang of disappointment. I had braced myself for the bombshell and now it had fizzled out. Why? He wants my story, that’s why, I said to myself. He is not sure that publishing the evidence will work. He must have another plan. He is not going to give up, that I was sure of.

  After breakfast I went straight to the library. The sun shone and I looked forward to hearing about Pietersen’s great innings. Ben and Tim would never understand how I knew and I’d be four pounds better off. I might even buy Sonia a box of chocolates, I thought. She’ll be over the moon.

  But Sonia was not at the library. I asked the chief librarian if she knew why Sonia had not come to work but she said she had no idea, it was the first time it had ever happened. I became worried. I went out to the entrance hall and found her name in my phone directory. There was no answer. I realised then that I didn’t even know where she lived. I was powerless. What if her father had found out she was helping me? There was no knowing what he might do.

  I decided to go for a walk in the park in the sunshine. There were plenty of children playing on the grass and in the play park. I skirted the fence and wandered about. Some boys were playing cricket with a board propped up for the wicket. One boy bowled a tennis ball and it hit the board, knocking it over. ‘That’s not fair, said the batsman, the wind blew the wicket over. The bowler yelled at him and they started an argument, which was soon joined by all the fielders. I was afraid it might lead to a fight so I went over to them and gave them a lesson on sportsmanship. They listened intently but I had walked away only a few metres and they were already arguing again. Let them fight, I thought. They will learn someday.

  I took a circular route which led me round the edge of the grassed area. I looked back at the cricketers. They were back into the game, the argument forgotten. It was then that I noticed two men about a hundred metres behind me. As I turned towards them they seemed to slow down. They were too far away for me to get a good look at them. I walked on and they followed. After a few minutes I turned round again. Once more they slowed down and this time they turned aside. I quickened my step and walked towards the exit. As I was going out of the park I quickly glanced round. They had closed the gap. It was then that I knew, without a shadow of doubt, that I was being followed.

  With beating heart and clammy hands I hastened down the road in the direction of the town centre as fast as I could without looking suspicious. I didn’t look round until I had reached the pub at the corner of West Street. I glanced back for a fraction of a second. They were still following me. I turned into West Street and once out of their sight I broke into a run. When I reached the first side road I turned into it and hurried down. At the next corner I stopped and peered round the wall. I waited and then peeped again. I had given them the slip. But I had no doubt they knew where I lived. Don’t panic, Bill, I said to myself. Albert Smith is trying to frighten you into cooperating with him.

  I went home and switched on the television. Play had started at the Oval. England had won the toss and Michael Vaughan had elected to bat.