by Sharon Sant
She had to make time to paint, too, she reminded herself. Though, after spending the previous evening at the accident department, and then being woken again by her recurring nightmare about Jacob, creativity wasn’t exactly high on her list this morning.
Grabbing the best of what she could find under the sink, she set about her task. As she worked, her mind wandered back to the dream that continued to disturb her sleep. She knew the place; if only she could just pull the memory into focus. What the dream meant, however, that was a different matter entirely. She had dreamt things before, things that had come to pass, and the rate that this one reoccurred she could be in no doubt that it was a premonition of some kind. The idea terrified her. But perhaps it wasn’t as clear cut as it seemed.
As she cleared away toys, used dishes and old bottles, and picked dried food out of the sofa, she turned over ideas in her mind. Perhaps it didn’t need a literal interpretation; perhaps it was a metaphor. But for what? And she never actually saw Jacob die, so maybe she was overreacting. But the presence of Makash and Alex and Jacob’s apparent vulnerability left her in no doubt that it was a mortal threat of some kind.
An hour’s work saw the sitting room look reasonably presentable. Ellen wondered whether to turn her attention to the kitchen. She went through and gave it an appraising once over. The dishes needed washing, the cupboard fronts were stained with drips and smudges, the floor was dusty and encrusted with bits of food, the blinds in need of a wipe. And that was just what she could see. The state it was in, she mused, cleaning it would take most of the day. She decided on a compromise of washing up and wiping the surfaces, then she would call round for Jacob.
It had taken Ellen longer than she had anticipated to get the kitchen straight and by the time she had cleaned herself up too, it was almost lunchtime. She arrived at Jacob’s front door, shaking her umbrella free of water. He would be fretting by now, and she would probably have to placate him, but her stomach flipped in anticipation just the same as she waited for the door to be answered. If only they had got to this point months ago, she could have had so much more of him. Now, they were faced with another parting, and sooner than either of them could bear. She folded her umbrella and forced away the thought as Maggie opened the door.
‘Ellen…’ Maggie smiled as she let her in. ‘Jacob’s gone out.’
‘Out?’ Ellen asked, dropping her umbrella in the porch and following Maggie to her spotless kitchen. ‘Where?’
Maggie shrugged and reached into the cupboard for some mugs. ‘He didn’t say. Just rushed off this morning after breakfast. Are you staying for a cup of tea?’
Ellen hesitated. She didn’t want to offend Maggie, but worry had taken her thoughts somewhere else. But perhaps she was being paranoid.
‘Yes, I’ll have one while I wait for him,’ she decided, taking a seat.
‘He did say he’d be late back.’ Maggie brought the cups over to the table.
‘How late?’
‘After dinner late. I didn’t get anything more specific than that.’
Ellen frowned. ‘Does he have his phone?’
‘You mean this one?’ Maggie held it up. The mask of normality she had worn when Ellen arrived had started to slip.
Ellen stared at her. ‘Should we be worried?’
‘I could ask you the same thing. And I think you’d have a more accurate answer.’
Ellen paused in thought. ‘If he doesn’t have his phone, there isn’t a lot we can do but wait for him to come back.’
‘Which is why I’ve been going out of my mind all morning.’ Maggie sat down with a heavy sigh. ‘He keeps telling us that we can’t be there looking out for him every minute of the day, and he’s right, of course he is. But I have this feeling that he’s still hiding things from us. Even though what he’s already told us is as mad as you can get, I feel there’s still more to come out.’
Ellen smiled thinly. ‘There’s a bit of him that’s hidden all the time. Even I don’t get to see it,’ she said slowly. ‘Sometimes, I wonder if he even knows it’s there himself.’
‘That makes absolutely no sense at all to me,’ Maggie laughed shakily, ‘but I can’t help thinking you’re right.’
‘What made him rush out?’
Maggie shrugged. ‘I really don’t know. We were just talking about old times and looking at photos, and he suddenly decided he had to go out. Here…’ Maggie pulled the box of photographs across the table. ‘You want to see some?’
Ellen shrugged and tried to smile as Maggie handed her the top pile. There didn’t seem much else she could do.
Most of the snaps featured Jacob as a little boy; he had podgy cheeks and blonde curls, like a Michelangelo cherub. She would have to remember to tease him about that later. Halfway down the pile she froze, barely noticing the kettle click off and Maggie rise from the table to fill the teapot.
‘I think I know where he is.’
Ellen grabbed her coat and ran from the kitchen, her heart suddenly bursting from her chest. Maggie rushed after her.
‘Where? Should I get Phil?’ she called.
But Ellen had already left.
Luca’s mum answered the door with a warm smile. It faded as she saw Ellen’s panicked expression.
‘Ellen, darling, whatever is wrong?’ She tutted as she lifted a lock of Ellen’s wet hair. ‘You’re soaking wet. Come in and get dry.’
‘Sorry,’ she panted, ‘but I can’t stay. I just wondered if Luca was around.’
‘He’s in the garage. Do you want me to call him?’
‘No, I can find him myself, thanks.’ Ellen ducked back out of the porch and round to the side of the house. The garage door was open and Luca was fixing a nut to the wheel of Maria’s motorbike. He stood and grinned at Ellen’s approach.
‘It’s looking alright now,’ he said, gesturing to the bike with obvious pride.
‘Jake’s in trouble.’
Luca rolled his eyes. ‘What now?’
‘He’s gone off somewhere, I think I know where, and I don’t think it’s good.’
‘Can’t that boy ever just stay in and watch telly like the rest of us?’ Luca wiped his hands on an oily cloth. ‘Where’s he gone?’
‘Portland. That’s where the lighthouse is.’
‘Portland? I don’t see what trouble he can get in there unless some narked lighthouse keeper chases him for dropping litter.’
‘The lighthouse in my dream! It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, don’t you see? Jacob is making it all happen.’
Luca frowned. ‘To be honest, you’re not making much sense right now.’ He paused, taking in the fear in her eyes. ‘Why don’t you explain it to me?’ he asked, his tone softer.
‘I keep having this dream, about a cliff top and a lighthouse in the rain,’ she began, biting back impatience. ‘Jacob is there on the ground and Alex is about to kill him… at least, I think that’s what’s going to happen. I always wake up before that bit.’
‘Isn’t that just a dream?’
‘Jacob has gone there today. Look outside, it’s raining. He’s had the same dream, I just know he has. He knows he will find Alex and Makash there.’
‘Makash too?’ Luca blanched. ‘Did Jake tell you about having a dream?’
‘No,’ she faltered. ‘But his mum said he was looking at photos when he suddenly rushed out. There was a photo of him there as a kid, the same place I’ve been dreaming about. I couldn’t remember where it was until I saw the picture. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?’
Luca’s mind went back to the restaurant in California where they had first encountered Alex’s friend, Martina. Jacob had told him then that there was no such thing as coincidence. ‘Ok, let’s just say that you’re right. Portland is miles away. It’d take us hours on the bus.’
‘It would,’ Ellen agreed. Her gaze travelled to a spot behind Luca. ‘But you have a motorbike.’
‘Are you crazy?’ Luca squeaked. ‘Maria would rip off my arms and eat them if I took t
hat!’
‘She’s at work, right? She doesn’t need to know.’
Luca scratched his head. ‘I’m not even sure it’s roadworthy yet.’
‘But you can ride it?’
‘Yeah, a bit,’ Luca admitted. ‘But I don’t have a licence; it’s not taxed or insured. We’d get strung up if the police caught us.’
‘It’s a risk we’ll have to take.’
‘No,’ Luca said, ‘I’m sorry but we can’t. I’ll come with you but it’ll have to be the bus.’
‘He could be dead by the time we get there if we do that.’
Luca grimaced, glancing back at the bike and then at Ellen, clearly torn by indecision. He exhaled loudly. ‘Goodbye medical school, hello criminal record... I’ll go and find you a spare helmet.’
Ellen paced the garage floor as she waited. Luca returned a few minutes later with two crash helmets. ‘Couldn’t find any leathers that would fit you, only this, which is better than nothing, I suppose…’ he handed her a leather jacket.
She detected a faint aroma of grease and old sweat. It was much too big but she put it on and fastened it anyway, trying to look grateful. Luca handed her a helmet and put on his own. Hers had a large scratch down one side and a dent in it.
‘What happened to this?’ she asked doubtfully as she let out her ponytail and put the helmet on.
Luca shot her a sideways glance. ‘You don’t want to know.’
Luca lifted the bike from its support and straddled it. Ellen climbed on behind and circled her arms around his waist.
‘I’m so going to regret this,’ Luca shouted over the roar of the engine as he kicked it into life.
‘At least you know it works,’ Ellen shouted back encouragingly.
‘Do you know the way?’ Luca asked.
‘I think we head towards Weymouth. I’m sure it’ll be signposted on that road.’
‘I hope you’re right about this.’
‘Jake had this place in his head, from years ago. Alex saw his memories. I have to be right; it’s like a circle of fate.’
‘A what? Half the time I don’t understand a word you or Jake say.’
Luca didn’t wait for her reply. The bike rolled unsteadily from the garage and down the driveway onto his street. Already, the wetness of the road was taking the traction from the tyres.
‘We’ll find Jake,’ Luca shouted, ‘as long as we don’t get killed on the way.’
Whether she replied or not, he didn’t hear. Letting out the clutch, he throttled up. The bike jerked at first, jolting them both violently, but then gradually built up a steady speed as Luca got control and drove them away from the house.
Ellen clung on to Luca as he navigated the traffic. Each car that passed them felt too close, the bike felt like it was going too fast for her to hold on, every slip and slide on the road beneath them was magnified to alarming proportions. Despite the terror that these sensations brought, she also found it an oddly exhilarating experience. She leaned her head against Luca’s back and closed her eyes from the rain that whipped into her face beneath the helmet, offering up a silent prayer to whatever god presided that they would make it in one piece. And she mentally ticked off each minute, urging Luca on, trying to banish her fears and think of Jacob, who needed them right now.
The bus had been full of its usual daytime cargo: old people and mums with young kids - hot and close and noisy. It stopped every few miles to let a stream of people on or off and Jacob found himself tapping his foot with barely controlled impatience. It seemed an ignominious way to travel to one’s death, he mused with some irony as he gazed at town after rain-soaked town flashing by through the windows. But he was ready for that eventuality, as if he had been building to this moment for his whole life. For he now understood the circle of fate that had brought him here - he had created it himself. Kya knew his memories as her own; she had seen them when he first revealed himself to her. She had somehow seized on this place; somewhere he had a special affection for, and had, in turn, sent him the dream that told of their meeting there. And by making his way there now, he was drawing her to him; she could not resist the pull even if she wanted to. His life for everyone he loved - it seemed a fair trade. And maybe, just maybe, if fate was on his side, he could save Alex too. But if death awaited him, he was no longer scared; he just hoped it would be quick.
After what seemed an eternity, the bus pulled in at Weymouth. The connecting bus to the lighthouse was already in at the stop. Jacob boarded and paid his fare and, before long, the towns were behind and the honeyed spit of Chesil Beach came into view. His memories now fresh, he knew that his destination wasn’t far away. At the top of a steep, winding hill, the bus dropped Jacob and he stared up at the remaining climb to the lighthouse. Childhood flashbacks assailed him in a sudden rush: the taste of the ham on his sandwich, the wind catching his kite as he raced across the cliff top with his dad, the sounds of their laughter carried across the bay, his tired legs as his dad scooped him up and gently put him into the car for home. There was a pang of regret that he hadn’t said goodbye properly to his mum that morning, but he knew now that she understood what he was, where his destiny lay, and perhaps that was explanation enough.
Looking across the rolling hills and the white houses dotted over them, thinking of their significance, he was amazed now that it had taken him so long to work the location out. But perhaps that was part of the grand design; that it would take him to this exact moment in time to arrive here. Whichever higher power had planned it, they had taste. It seemed a fitting place to end it all.
Pulling his jacket more tightly around him against the rain, he started towards the lighthouse. He could protect himself against the elements that battered him, as he had once shown Ellen, but it seemed prudent to save his strength for the bigger task that lay ahead. The path that crunched under his feet was deserted; winter had sent all the tourists home and everyone else was too busy or too sensible to be out in weather like this.
As he walked, he pondered on his responsibilities to Astrae. By offering himself to Makash now, was he abandoning them? He supposed he was, but something in him felt sure that Alex would eventually find her way without Makash; she would be a better Watcher than he had ever been. Whatever happened, for the two halves of the moon to remain in darkness, as they were now, was not helping anyone. For the first time, he knew for certain that the prophecy spoke of them, and that this was one destiny he could not fight.
Arriving at the rocky outcrop, the lighthouse towered at one side and the blurred horizon spread before him. The waves crashed up from the rocks below, sending tiny droplets of salt spray into the air that he tasted on his lips. At either side of the lighthouse were two opposite vistas: one of rocks and rubble leading to a fenced off old building, the other, a sweep of fields cascading down to the cliff edge, punctuated by coloured huts. Jacob took a moment to catch his breath and scan the landscape for a sign of anyone awaiting his arrival. With no one in sight, he turned to the lighthouse itself and tried the gate in the boundary wall. It was locked, for the winter months, he presumed. With nothing else to do, he moved back into the shadow of the looming structure and huddled against its outer wall to wait.
‘I can’t believe you let it run out of petrol,’ Ellen growled, her impatience getting the better of her.
‘I didn’t,’ Luca snapped back as he undid the cap on the bike, ‘I’m filling it up now, as you can see.’
‘Alright, almost…’ she insisted. ‘Who keeps a tiny dribble of petrol in their tank anyway?’
‘I didn’t know some nutty wench was going to ask me to drive her to Portland today, did I?’ Luca sighed as he watched the screen on the pump display the quickly climbing cost. ‘And I didn’t fancy that conversation with Maria: Hey, sis, could you keep the bike topped up in case I want to steal it...’ He released the trigger on the nozzle. ‘We’d better have enough money as well,’ he muttered.
Ellen wriggled around to get to the pocket of her jeans. ‘I have
five,’ she said, handing a crumpled note to Luca.
He replaced the nozzle on the pump and felt in his own pockets. ‘We should just about be able to do it,’ he said. ‘But I hope Jake’s got some or we’re not getting home.’
She watched as he strode to the kiosk to pay. The sight of his familiar figure - solid, forever dependable - brought a pang of remorse. He had risked a lot to help her. But the fear and urgency that clouded her thoughts wouldn’t let her ease up on him, no matter how she might want to. Her gaze travelled to the weather beyond the roof of the forecourt; it was getting steadily worse. Her jeans and trainers were already soaked, and now she was unutterably thankful for the smelly leather jacket keeping her top half dry.
Luca returned, his thoughts seemingly also on the weather. ‘We’re going to have to slow it down at bit,’ he said in a quiet voice, his attention turning to the leaden skies. ‘The roads are getting treacherous and I’m not very safe on this bike yet.’
‘Oh, come on,’ Ellen goaded, knowing that she shouldn’t, ‘you’re not scared, are you? I thought you were Mr Adventure.’
‘Course not,’ Luca stood a little straighter, ‘I’m worried about you, that’s all.’
‘You don’t need to worry about me,’ she reminded him,’ it’s Jacob we need to worry about.’
Luca grimaced. ‘He’d better be there and in mortal danger,’ he muttered through gritted teeth. ‘If he isn’t, he will be when I’ve finished with him.’
He straddled the bike again and kicked it into life. Ellen grabbed his waist tightly and waited to be jolted off. This time Luca’s start was smoother, a slight buck and the bike was under control.
