Cuckoo

by Richard Wright

  He ceased to care whether Jameson was the true identity or not. He was Summers now, inherently Summers. Summers was breathing the thick city air. Summers was terrified at the thought of knocking on the door of the flat. Summers. Not Jameson. If he reverted to Jameson, would it be like dying? Would the original man, once in control of his life again, be glad of Greg’s passing? Whatever his faults, Greg could not believe himself so worthless that he should be discarded. Whether he had existed for thirty-two hours or thirty-two years, he wanted to live.

  The immensity of the thought set him shaking again, then Alex was beside him, lending his strength. Greg tried to smile, turning his attention back to the flat. She lived on the second floor of a two-storey house, Greg remembered that she shared the hall and stairway with an elderly couple on the ground floor. He had only met this pair in passing. During his very brief visits there had been time for only the most physical of social activities.

  Wondering if those days had ever been more than a sophisticated lie, he pushed open the gate and walked up the garden path. Allowing himself no pause, he knocked on the door.

  A horrible moment of déjà vu swamped him, and it took only a moment to realise why this was all so familiar. For a second after the door opened he actually saw Jennifer standing there, all recognition and warmth gone from her face.

  It was not Jennifer who now stood in front of him. It was Georgina. The only similarity between the two faces, real and remembered, were the uncomprehending looks they wore.

  She didn’t know him. Alex had been right. Her glare was the barrel of a chambered rifle. This was his execution.

  “Greg? What the fuck are you doing here?”

  All the strength flushed from his body. Sagging, he discovered that he had been holding his breath. Releasing it eased the pressure in his chest just as her words sealed away the doubt in his mind. Dizzy with relief, the world spinning around him, he could think of only one thing to say to his redeeming angel. “I think I love you,” he managed, before he passed out.

  Shaking. Voices. Greg was becoming very familiar with the sensation of disembodied reality that accompanied a sudden waking from blackness.

  “Greg? Honey?” Georgina. A woman who loved him. That was worth waking up to. He cracked open his eyes. Above him was her bedroom ceiling, and it amused him to realise he had never seen it in daylight before. The single mattress on which he lay was familiar to him though. He could almost smell the musk of sex in the air.

  “Greg? Are you feeling better babe?” He let his head swing round to the side. Framed against the large bedroom window, she was haloed by the afternoon sun. His redeeming angel.

  “Much better, thanks. How long?”

  “Couple of hours I think. You sure you’re okay?”

  “It was just…relief, I suppose. You have no idea how many reasons I have to thank you.” Or perhaps she did. Her flickering, never still eyes reflected deeper concern. Still groggy, he lost the thought before he could ask about it.

  “You suit your hair back.” Had he really nothing more important than that to say? Still, he had never seen her with a ponytail. In fact he had never seen her in casual clothes. He supposed that she spent only a small part of her life dressed to impress him. She should have made less effort. The baggy blouse and torn jeans she wore were a refreshing, plain glamour. She was about to speak, but stopped. “Go on,” he said.

  “Okay,” she had difficulty forming her question. “I’ve been talking to your friend Alex. He came out with some pretty weird shit.”

  “Ah.” That was it, the thought he had lost.

  “Is it true babe?” The dam broke. “Only I didn’t know whether he was causing you trouble and I should phone the police or something. He frightened me Greg. I mean, when I say weird, I mean weird. I thought he might be, well, dangerous or something, and you’ve never mentioned him, and you both just show up like that.” Her pout tried to perform fear, confusion, strength, and concern all in one moment. He decided that the only thing to do was kiss it, and did. It was a long kiss, velvet soft and passionately felt. As he pulled away, he was laughing.

  “Do you know,” he said, “I haven’t felt this good in a long time.” Still chuckling, he met her demure, puzzled stare. Trying hard not to think of the lean, graceful body beneath those loose folds of blouse, he decided to be blunt. “George, I don’t know how much of the full story he told you, but I trust him. I’ll take a guess and say yes. Every word he said was true.”

  Her expression was worth capturing on canvas.

  They entered the living room together to find Alex waiting for them. He lounged in the moth-eaten settee sat squarely in the middle of the small room. As they walked, Greg saw Alex engrossed in a Diagnosis: Murder rerun.

  His wry glance was noted, and Alex smiled his angular smile. “There was nothing else on,” he explained, “and I needed to do something. I hope you’ve managed to convince the delightful Georgina that I’m not, in fact, utterly insane.”

  “I think we at least have the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Good. Well done. Now you might want to convince me too. I felt bloody silly telling her about your recent adventures.”

  “Adventures?” Greg took a seat next to him. “You make it sound like an Enid Blyton.”

  “Indeed. Five Have Fun With Brainwashing. Childhood classic.”

  Georgina giggled from her tiny kitchenette. “Does anyone want coffee?” Greg nodded, though Alex declined.

  “How much did you tell her?” Greg asked while Georgina was busy.

  “Everything I can remember. I told it from your point of view, hence being forced to question my sanity. Again.”

  Georgina arrived with the gratefully received coffee, pulling up a chair to seat herself. All eyes turned expectantly to Greg.

  Feeling self-conscious, he ran through his ideas once more, trying to see if any were flawed. Being honest, he had to admit that they all were, but he could find few improvements to make at that point. The unofficial conference began. “I want to thank both of you, first.” There was more to that than the words expressed, but now was not the time. “You’ve already done far more for me than I could possibly have asked. Now you can stop if you want.” He inhaled deeply, for he was offering to relinquish a great deal. “I can’t ask for more. I won’t. Neither of you have any real idea of how much danger there is in this, but please believe that I do. I’m frightened. If you got hurt because of this it would damage me more than they ever could themselves.”

  They looked at him for a moment. Alex broke the stillness. “My choice to make though, isn’t it?”

  Twitches at the corner of Greg’s mouth threatened a smile. “Well, yes. If you feel that you must burden my further adventures with your presence then there’s nothing I can do to stop you.” The smile broke, Alex returned it.

  Georgina was more hesitant. “Babe, I don’t know. I’m not even sure how much of all this I believe.” Greg raised his eyebrows, and she blushed. “I get you’re in some kind of trouble, but aliens and mind control?”

  She was worried that she might offend him with her scepticism, but she needn’t have been. Greg knew full well how implausible his situation was. His reply was tender and firm. “Act, for the moment, as if it were all true. Everything. Pretend you doubt nothing you’ve heard, then base your decision on that.”

  Her eyes widened. She resembled a rabbit pinned to the road by fast approaching headlights. “Greg, it’s scary.” He nodded, and she continued. “But whatever trouble you’re in, I want to help. I love you.”

  A variety of emotions competed for his attention. For the first time, perhaps, he was seeing the person behind the make-up and lewd sex. Catching the look in his eyes, she gave him a smile both shy and aggressive with anticipation.

  Alex coughed, and Greg broke the moment before it could develop.

  “Right,” he said, failing to cover his embarrassment. “Before I tell you what I want to do, we have to prove to Alex that I’m Greg Summer
s. It shouldn’t be too difficult now.” Alex was attentive, paying close heed to this new argument. Greg addressed him directly. “Do you remember, in Richard Jameson’s diary, that he had a meeting with Stewart on the Friday I came to your hotel? Well, it was missed. But Stewart implied that it was a regular meeting, he mentioned nothing about Jameson having missed any others. The absence was supposed to be a new thing, I think.” He paused to see if Alex was following the argument. His friend gestured him to go on.

  “Well, I can’t have attended any of those meetings as Jameson. Tell him why George.”

  She caught his glance and understood. “I’ve been having an…a relationship with Greg for the last three months.”

  “See? I’ve been Summers for at least three months. Richard, according to his brother, had only been missing for a few days.” He held his breath, hoping that Alex would not find some hole, some vital flaw in his argument.

  “There’s Facebook, too,” said George.

  Greg turned to her, surprised, and then shocked at his idiocy. “I haven’t even looked. Bloody hell, Alex. Why didn’t we check Facebook?” Alex shrugged, and they both turned to Georgina.

  She looked from one to the other, nervous. “Babe, you unfriended me a week ago. I haven’t heard from you since. That’s why I was surprised to see you. I tried to friend you again, in case it was a glitch, but nobody with your name looked like you, and they’d all done the privacy thing, so I couldn’t check them out properly.”

  Alex shook his head in wonder, as he pulled his own phone out. “Wait a second.” Tapping the icon for his Facebook app, he searched Greg’s name, and a column of images were displayed. A quick scan, a tap, and he brought up a picture. Reversing the phone, he showed it to Greg. “That him?” Greg nodded, the thing with the man’s face, laughing, long hair tossed back. It made him sick, knowing the creature was able to masquerade as him online, to anyone in the world. Alex ran another search, and showed him the phone again. It was Greg’s face now, and the name above it read ‘Richard Jameson’. “Don’t suppose you’d care to guess a password, would you?”

  “Wouldn’t know where to start.”

  “Fair enough.” Alex looked again at the phone, then slipped it into his pocket. “They’re thorough. Have to give them that.”

  “You believe me?”

  Alex nodded. “You’re Greg Summers. Which leaves us the mystery of the photos.”

  “Not much of a mystery. I’d be happy to guess that anybody with the technology to brainwash people might have the resources to produce faultless photographic composites.” Alex nodded, not entirely happy with the answer but willing to concede the point for now.

  “So,” said George. “What now?”

  What now indeed. The fight for his name had become a team effort, and he ventured his suggestion with a smile on his lips. “Now,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “we kidnap my wife. We’re going to abduct Jennifer Summers from her cosy home.”

  The silence was thunderous, and long. Alex just stared at him, mouth hanging open. Georgina refused to meet his eyes, her gaze panicking across the room as she considered the implications of the idea.

  With unnerving timing, the phone rang. All three jumped in their seats, then laughed at each other’s reactions. Smiling, Georgina rose to answer it. When she picked up the receiver however, her smile faded. Taking a step back, she dropped the telephone as though it had bitten her.

  Greg snatched it up. Nothing, just the buzz of a closed line. Replacing it, he turned to his lover and caught her shoulders, meeting her frightened gaze, forcing himself to ask the question in a calm voice. “George, who was it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know, they didn’t give a name.”

  “What did they say?”

  Meeting his gaze again, Georgina seemed to draw strength from his eyes. “It was a message for you. He said that he knew where you were. That was it.”

  A startled coughing from Alex was the only response she received.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ABDUCTION

  After a hasty departure from Georgina’s flat, one marked mostly by paranoia and nerves, the rest of their plans were made at Alex’s. It was still the only place Greg thought might have slipped past the guard of his enemies. When they had settled there, curtains drawn, he outlined his idea.

  “Georgina, as far as the police will be concerned, is an unreliable witness. Our relationship was...well...a secret. There’s only our word that it happened at all. There’s no proof that she even knew me. The only person who can help me now is Jennifer.”

  Alex pointed out the obvious flaw. “Greg, she believes this other man is you. As she understands it, she’s met you just once, when you knocked on her door, and that was hardly the best of introductions.”

  “I know. That’s why we’re going to kidnap her.”

  Despite their protests, Greg finally convinced them that the plan had merit. Jennifer would be abducted at some point when her ersatz husband was away from home. Once she had been brought back to the flat, Greg would try to find a way past her brainwashing in the hope that she might reach the same level of awareness as he. It was a slim chance, but also the only thing he could come up with that might work.

  It would be painful, he knew. He remembered her fear when he broke into the house. If she looked at him with terror in her eyes, his heart would break. It would be up to Alex and George to keep him strong

  Of the two, it was Georgina who had most amazed him with her mettle. She must know that she was now fighting for the end of their relationship, but she had not wavered. Again, he was struck by how remarkable a woman he had involved himself with, and resolved to make the most of the time left to them.

  After the plan had been settled and approved, they designated roles. Despite Greg’s protests, Georgina had been the one chosen to watch the house for the creature’s departure. Alex had made the most sense of the decision.

  “Calm down,” he had soothed after Greg threatened to do it alone rather than endanger her. “It isn’t that we have a lot of choice. We know for a fact that the creature owned photographs of me meeting you, and you can’t stake the place out yourself. There’s a chance that Georgina is a face it doesn’t know.” He was right, but it was the least satisfactory part of the plan. That left Alex and he to commit the abduction. It was a simple idea, but a one-shot only gambit. If it failed, the enemy would be forewarned. There would be no further opportunity to try the same thing.

  Once Georgina had called them from her mobile, she would return to the flat by the quickest means and await their arrival. Meanwhile, Greg and Alex would drive to the house and snatch Jennifer.

  Two major worries plagued Greg, the first of which was that the creature might return during the attempt. Secondly, this was no remote hideaway they were planning to raid. It was a house slap-bang in the middle of suburbia. Sleepy, yes. But how far could they push their luck? It was unlikely that the creature would depart at night unless it had very good reason to do so, especially after Greg’s last break-in, so they had to make the snatch during the day.

  Risky, but there was no choice. The creature had already found them once. It could do so again. They were running out of time

  Greg sat on the couch, glowering at the telephone. Georgina had been gone for four hours.

  “Staring at it won’t help,” Alex told him for the third time.

  “Neither will meaningless clichés,” Greg snapped. Regretting it at once, he added, “I’m just worried about her, that’s all. She’s risking a lot by helping me. More than you understand. If you had only seen this thing…”

  Alex sighed. “You’ve got to realise how hard it is to see through your eyes, Greg. If we took you all the way at face value we’d have to be insane.”

  “I know. I’ve put you in a position you can’t even grasp.”

  Alex sat back in the chair. “I think it will be enough that we’re up against anything at all. I’m no hero. I’m frightened. Whether I�
��m facing a demon or a serial killer is much the same to me.”

  Before he could continue, the telephone rang. Startled, his heart pounding next to his tonsils, Greg reached for the handset. Alex caught his arm before he could pick it up.

  “Best I answer it,” he said. “It might not be her.” Picking up the receiver, he listened for a moment, then replaced it.

  “It left a couple of minutes ago.”

  It was the drive that most panicked Greg. Taking nearly thirty-five minutes in all, every one was a wasted lifetime. It was impossible to know what they would find at the house. Perhaps the thing had only left briefly, to perform a short errand. In the time it took them to get there it could easily have returned without them knowing about it.

  Each age that passed on the endless journey gave Greg time to doubt. What if Jennifer struggled? Would they have to use force? Was he even capable of performing an act against her will? Perhaps he should have left the confrontation entirely in Alex’s hands, but selfishness prevented him from doing so. Action empowered him, made him strong. By being proactive he was transformed from victim to aggressor, a feeling which was necessary if he was to make himself continue. Handing over his fate to somebody else was no option at all.

  The eternal pilgrimage came to an end as they eased into Fontside Avenue, parking close to the house.

  “Nice place,” Alex said. Greg could hear the trepidation in his voice and was relieved. The fear was not a personal thing, but a common enemy.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said, his whisper making him feel foolish in broad daylight.

  Exiting the car, they walked to the front step, trying to look like two men without abduction on their minds. Greg stood to one side of the door, out of sight, as Alex took a deep breath. He felt like some petty criminal, the lowest kind of thug. Could he have imagined committing such an act three months ago? For the first time he realised how irrevocable the changes recent events had forced in him were. It was something else the creature would be paid back for.