by Sara Pascoe
‘What?’ Raya asked. She felt Bryony’s fear – whether it was through being a witch, or just being a person, she wasn’t sure.
Bryony took her phone out and motioned for Pavel to do the same. ‘We’ve got to call round again. Someone must have got it wrong – he is in hospital. Jake was hit by a lorry.’
The black taxi jolted through traffic. The three of them stared out the windows. Raya didn’t know what the others were thinking but she’d never felt so bad, so responsible for something so terrible. And to such a sweet kid. He really was pretty funny. She chewed on her bottom lip, then on her already short nails. Then she remembered something Bryony had said about that cat. She was relieved for the reprieve from thinking about Jake.
‘So what did you mean back there – that you were the last good witch Oscar knew?’ Raya asked.
Bryony turned her attention back to them, like she was coming out of a dream. ‘What? Oh, that. Oscar had become really ill from being with a bad witch; his black fur even turned white. It can be fatal. Anyway, he was recovering with me, but he’d had enough of being a service animal by then. He wanted to go back to being a stray in London – where he started,’ Bryony said.
‘Prefers his freedom, eh?’ Pavel chortled.
‘It was more that he was sick of witches. And there were fishermen who fed the strays there on the Thames. Wasn’t a bad life, the way he tells it.’
The taxi stopped in traffic. A double-decker bus chugged by.
‘You don’t know how many calls I’d had from the train people. Oscar kept sneaking on the train at South Nutfield, but he never got very far – no unaccompanied animals allowed, of course,’ Bryony said.
‘You don’t think he encouraged Jake to come to London, do you? So he could hitch a ride?’ Pavel suggested.
Bryony sighed, stared out the window again. ‘You never know.’
The taxi slammed to a stop. A cyclist veered out of the way.
‘In any event, the minute they got into Victoria Station Oscar took off, heading back to his stray life. Jake darted after him, but didn’t look.’
They were all quiet. Raya knew how Oscar must feel. It sounded like they were both responsible. She wondered if the others blamed her too – tried to tune into their thoughts. Then she thought better of it – wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Bryony stopped gazing out the window. ‘There is one funny part. Oscar said he fought like hell to go with Jake in the ambulance. They got tired of peeling him off the paramedics and didn’t have the time to wait for the RSPCA to come get him, so they gave up and let him ride in the cab.
* * *
After speaking to a few staff at the hospital, they confirmed a boy who had been mistakenly entered on the computer as a Jane Doe was admitted a couple of days ago. Nothing like ticking the wrong box. They hurried along the maze of pastel-tiled hallways, filled with the smells of disinfectant and stale anxiety.
What have we done? Me and that stupid cat. They reached the ward and Pavel pressed the button outside the locked doors.
After what seemed like ages, a nurse let them in. He listened to Pavel’s explanation of who they were then led them to what he called the ‘day room’. They waited there until the nurse returned with a folder. He smiled in a way that said, ‘I’m sorry for you.’
‘Who’s the boy’s parent or legal guardian?’ he said.
‘I’m his social worker,’ Bryony said, and held up her ID.
‘Come with me please, to identify the boy.’ He turned and walked out with Bryony.
Raya sat on her hands and looked at her feet. Pavel leaned against the large windows and looked out at the light-dotted city. He seemed particularly uncomfortable in the hospital. After a few minutes, Bryony and the nurse returned. Bryony was ashen.
‘The boy…’ The nurse looked at his chart. ‘…Jake Smithson was brought in by ambulance two days ago in a coma after he was hit by the lorry.’
A helicopter flew over the hospital.
‘The lorry driver felt terrible as you can imagine. Said he never saw the boy, only heard the thud. He came in to see him.’ The nurse turned pages. ‘Jake has a broken collarbone and arm, but the real problem is his head injury.’
Head injury – oh my God. And he enjoys his head so much. Raya felt numb. Now it was at least three of them responsible for Jake’s state. But that didn’t make her feel any better – just more confused. Pavel looked out the window again, miles away.
Raya tried to take in the rest of what the nurse said.
‘The coiling wasn’t working, so the next step is a craniotomy – brain surgery. They’re getting Jake ready now,’ the nurse said.
‘Now? He goes in now?’ Pavel was back in the room.
‘Yes, with bleeds in the brain – he’ll have the best chance the sooner we can plug him up.’
‘Chance?’ Bryony said.
The nurse looked at each of them. ‘I’m sorry, I mean the best chance for the fullest recovery. Let me ask the paediatric neurosurgeon if she can pop in before she goes into theatre. She’s one of the best in the country.’ The nurse left.
A few minutes later, the surgeon breezed in and introduced herself. ‘I’ve done this repair many times – it’s my speciality. But you have to keep in mind that if he makes it, we won’t know how well he’ll recover for some time.’
‘What do you mean “if he makes it”? And he might not recover… completely?’ Raya said.
The surgeon looked at her kindly. ‘I’m sorry, there’s always a risk with surgery.’ She paused, looked at them. ‘A small chance they don’t survive, and I am obliged to tell you that it is riskier when you’re operating on the brain. But once we get him through the op – and we have every reason to think we will – we won’t know immediately whether or not he’ll have any permanent brain damage. Although young people always do better in this regard,’ she finished. A turgid silence filled the room.
The surgeon glanced at her watch. ‘It’s time for me to scrub up. I suggest you all go home, try to get some rest, and come back tomorrow. Before you go, could you please leave your contact details at the nurses’ station?’
The three walked like zombies to the nurses’ area. Bryony gave her contact details.
A nurse said, ‘Oh that’s right – there’s that cat. Can any of you take him? They’re still holding him downstairs; otherwise, the RSPCA will collect him in the morning.’
‘Yes, of course. I can take him,’ Bryony said.
Another nurse led the three out of the ward. When they reached the lobby, Pavel said, ‘I’ll let you two sort the cat. I’ve got a blistering headache,’ and left.
The nurse led Bryony and Raya to the basement. Their footsteps echoed in the dim, empty corridor.
The nurse unlocked the door and flicked the light on. There was a wall of cages, with only one inhabitant, Oscar.
The nurse lifted a cat carrier from a shelf, opened it, then the cage. Bryony reached in, but Oscar dug his claws into the bedding.
‘I’m not leaving Jake,’ he said and gave a heart-breaking yowl.
‘Oh, Oscar, we’ll come back tomorrow. There’s nothing any of us can do for him right now.’
‘Oh, dear,’ the nurse said. ‘I’ll let you three get on with it. Please close the door behind you when you leave. You remember your way out?’ Bryony nodded again and the nurse left. They were silent until they could no longer hear her footsteps echoing down the empty hall.
‘Oscar, this is Raya. You’ve met before.’
Oscar looked Raya over. ‘Oh yeah. I remember you. The one who freaked out when I was complaining about the service at Angie’s. Touchy, ain’t ya?’ Oscar yawned while doing a yoga stretch, then moved out of the cage.
Raya laughed. ‘It wasn’t that – I was hearing your thoughts. That’s what freaked me out.’
‘Ah, that’s what sent you bolting out of Angie’s that morning? Your powers coming on? With your mother’s history, you must have been scared out of your wits,’ Bryony
said.
‘I was! Why didn’t you say something?’ Anger swelled.
Bryony took Oscar onto her lap, looked embarrassed. ‘Sorry. I was going to. I only realised you are an integrator the evening before, when I’d popped over looking for Oscar. When you still didn’t believe in witches – remember?’
Raya flushed. ‘So you got all that in one go – that I AM one but that I didn’t believe in them… I mean us? But you’re the social worker, the grown-up. You should have done something!’ She buried her head in her hands. ‘And maybe none of this would have happened… and Jake would still be OK.’
Raya broke into sobs.
‘Oh Raya, you’re the one who ran away, remember? I didn’t have half a chance with you.’ Bryony tried to smooth her hair, but Raya swatted her away. She grabbed the cat from Bryony’s lap and hugged him like a teddy. Raya hadn’t felt anything like this since she was little and she thought she’d failed to protect her mum from evil and aliens, and that’s why she didn’t get better. Where was a red Formica table when you needed one? I’m useless. Worse than useless. I don’t even deserve to live.
Bryony looked startled and reached for Raya’s hand. But it was as though Bryony was moving farther and farther away.
Oscar tried to free himself from the girl. ‘Hey, I’m not doing this. Get me off her, Bryony – now!’ Oscar said. But the girl clamped down like the cat was a life ring.
‘What’s happening?’ Raya said, but no sound came out of her mouth. Blue, grey, and black swirled around her. Cold gusts of wind jabbed at her. A high-pitched ringing hurt her ears. It was getting harder to see the room or Bryony. The sounds of the wind grew louder, the ringing became a deafening soulless screech. Raya clutched the cat within an inch of his furry life and everything went black.
Raya had that dream again. She was walking on top of the old city wall, but this time she was with Oscar the cat, not Alfie the dog. She peeped through one of the small holes in the outer wall rising up from the walkway. The world on the outside was nothing but countryside now. Dirt roads like chocolate ribbons disappeared into woods or green fields in the distance.
She walked on, tugging her hoodie against the wind. The sky was covered in low thick clouds like the underside of a giant animal. Oscar looked at the town inside the wall below them. Raya looked, too. It was the same oldy-worldy town as before. But this time, she saw more people bustling about, all in dreary clothes. Horses clopped along pulling carts. People’s voices, but not their words, reached them. The smell of wood fires was a cosy contrast to the bleak day.
‘Come on, Oscar,’ she said. But he didn’t respond. That’s weird. It’s my dream, everyone should do what I want. This must be one of these lucid dreams Pavel told me about – when you know you’re dreaming.
‘This ain’t no dream, baby,’ Oscar said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m pretty sure we’ve time travelled, shweetheart.’
‘Shweetheart?’ Raya mimicked. ‘So where’d you get THAT accent?’
She marched forward towards the turn in the wall just like she saw in her dream before. Oscar ran to keep pace. Their breath made small puffs ahead of them.
‘Some people say I sound a bit like De Niro.’ Oscar looked pleased with himself. ‘But anyway, I just want to say goodbye. I wish you all the best – I’m out of here. You got here, I’m sure you can get yourself back.’
Raya gave him a look, ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Stop! Who goes there?’ came a man’s voice from behind them.
The man was in short trousers, what looked like tights, a jacket that flared out over the hips and a metal helmet. He was holding a long spear.
‘Now, why on earth would I invent you? Go away. Get out of my dream. Pavel will love hearing about all this.’ She waved a hand in his face.
Oscar dodged behind her legs. ‘I don’t want to get involved here, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you–’
‘Shh, Cat. Not now.’
She stepped up to the man and knocked on his helmet three times. It made a satisfying ringing sound. ‘Ouch.’ She blew on her knuckles. ‘Wow, this all seems so real–’
The man grabbed Raya around her upper arm. Ugh, did he pong.
‘Aye, you cannot walk on the walls, lad. From where do you hail?’
This was losing its charm.
‘I’m from Barking, originally, sir,’ Raya tried playing along.
The man looked hard at Raya, sniffed her. ‘Tain’t never heard of no “Barking”,’ he growled. ‘You work on the docks? Come in with a ship?’
‘No, sir, I don’t work around here. I–’
‘Aye – a bloody foreigner AND looking for work?’
Raya wondered if this dream was trying to teach her to be more tolerant, less ‘xenophobic’ as Jake called it. Uh oh, don’t think about Jake, don’t think about–
The man called over his shoulder, ‘Gavan, another one for the workhouse.’
Another man, larger and younger, but dressed like the first started towards them with a threatening grin. ‘Aye, let us get rid of this vermin.’
‘Run, Raya!’ Oscar head-screamed.
She grunted. ‘I’m trying!’ The first guy was gripping her arm so tight it was going numb. ‘Let me go, you animal!’ She flailed uselessly.
Gavan reached for her.
With a cat war cry, Oscar leapt up onto the first man’s face and dug his claws into his chubby cheeks and oily scalp.
He screamed and batted at the cat. Raya ran, saw a stone stairwell ahead, and glanced back. The man jumped around in pain, unable to free himself of his cat blindfold; Gavan tried to get around him, but couldn’t. For a second they looked like they were dancing at a bizarre festival. Gavan finally wrenched Oscar free, leaving the man moaning against the wall and holding his bloodied face. When Gavan was about to fling Oscar over the wall, Raya saw red – she didn’t want anyone else hurt because of her, even if it was a cranky cat.
‘Noo!!’ She was on them quicker than she thought possible and did the only thing she knew would work for sure – kicked him in the groin.
‘Run!’ she screamed out loud. Oscar went hell-bent for leather towards the stairwell, Raya at his tail. The two men, crumpled against the wall, groaning and swearing.
‘You are not of God’s creatures!’ the first man bellowed at their backs.
The cat and girl hurtled themselves down the damp stone steps. They rolled out onto the belt of green between the wall and the town. Raya scrambled to her feet, grabbed the cat and dodged through a thick clot of sheep towards a large tree at the far edge of the green. Across the dirt road was a row of cottages where the town started in earnest. Women in old-fashioned bland clothing washed laundry in tubs, carried buckets, and other hard work. Kids either helped or larked about. Some turned to look beyond her as she panted against the tree. Raya peered around and saw Gavan at the bottom of the stairs, searching the scene in front of him.
‘Shit,’ Raya said. She spied a passageway splitting the row of cottages with glimpses of a crowded town beyond. ‘Hold on,’ Raya said, still clinging to the cat before darting across the road, nearly colliding with a horse-drawn cart laden with goods, and into the passageway. When she reached the end she allowed herself to glimpse back. Two women from the cottages were talking to Gavan. One pointed in the wrong direction. She held a basket against her hip with one hand, and her bonnet on her head with the other. A bonnet? The woman glanced her way and gave the slightest nod, before returning to her conversation. Raya turned the corner, into the town’s centre, when she finally put the cat down. There were rows of two or three-storey buildings. Some were stone, others were rendered with wooden strips running across them in different directions. Most had thatched roofs. She fingered her phone in her pocket, but something told her not to use it.
‘What the hell is going on? This ISN’T a dream, is it?’ Raya said in head-speak.
‘Gardyloo,’ someone called overhead. Oscar yelled, ‘M
OVE!’ and Raya did just before an arm came out of a window and tipped a bowl, barely missing the girl-cat duo.
Raya gagged at the smell of human excrement. She looked up and waved her fist.
‘That’s disgusting! I hope someone poos on your life!’ Raya shook her head, then realised people were staring at her. There were streams of them, all wore dreary clothes, the women in long dresses, the men in mostly short trousers. Some clucked and whispered when they saw her, they all steered clear. There wasn’t a car in sight, not even a bicycle, but plenty of horse- and donkey-drawn carts. There were no electric signs, no telephone wires anywhere. The snippets of conversation she overheard didn’t sound like the English she was used to.
‘But time travel? How is that even possible?’ she asked the cat.
‘It must have been you. Familiars don’t have that sort of power, not that it wouldn’t have come in handy at times….’ he trailed off.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Forget it.’ Oscar scurried into the thick of the market. ‘Probably best to keep moving.’
‘Right. Sorry.’ She stopped again. ‘But hang on, I thought you said you were “out of here”. Don’t stay for me. I don’t want your charity – even though I just saved your furry bum.’ She glowered at the large, now mostly black cat.
He twitched his tail and scowled back at her for a moment. ‘OK, don’t get your tail in a knot. I just saved you too, if your goldfish brain can remember.’
‘That’s wrong – thinking goldfish have bad memories you know. Jake was telling me…’ She was immediately sorry she brought up his name. She didn’t even know if he got through the surgery. Oscar looked equally worried, slinked up next to her.
‘OK – I take it back. Looks like we need each other to survive this time and place. I’ll stick around a bit longer, all right?’ the cat offered generously.
