The Entity Paradox 5q6h64

The Entity Enigma

Chapter 1

Depending on where you might have happened to set foot in this circus you could to a certain extent find yourself slightly overwhelmed. You would be in London's Piccadilly Circus. Should you somehow be able to go even higher than the statue of Eros that dominates this centre of the world, you would be instantly transfixed by the swirling traffic below a multitude of brightly lit signs, that are its vibrant surroundings. All this goes unnoticed by Sue Jameson as she makes her way up the steps of the Shaftesbury Avenue exit of Piccadilly Circus tube station together with the manufactured drafts of the underground now left behind, replaced by a gentler warm summer breeze of the morning fanning her face. But still with enough of a gust to lift the hem of her light floaty summer dress a little further up her leg than its intended knee length. Sue Jameson found herself once more heading up Shaftesbury Avenue and into the depths of Soho. Perhaps Shaftesbury Avenue lacks the sweeping majestic curve of Regent Street. But it has a mystery all of its own. What is not so apparent at first, is the continental divide that cleaves the Avenue into two. On one side a seductive charm that materialises from the web of narrow streets, along with its theatres. These streets have a foreboding lure for any curious visitor to this part of London that could quickly ensnare its victims, as they find themselves disappearing into the less virtuous world of Soho. If by chance, should the visitor escape from these bodily delights waiting for them on the other side of this split is China town, silently waiting to invite you to its oriental mysteries.

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It was just past nine in the morning. The morning rush hour had lost its fevered rush. Sue had found her morning stroll up Shaftesbury Avenue held a fascination that only this street could give. This slice of London was now her new place of employment. After leaving the lower reaches of the Thames, where most of the English National newspapers had been shunted to from Fleet Street. Sue

ed it all too well, living the life of an investigating journalist on one of the more racy tabloids, for ever chasing plausible and the most implausible stories that were wrapped up together with a whiff of the less salubrious. Sue had no regrets about leaving that world. In fact she felt lucky that she had got out just in time, as the newspaper she had been working for had collapsed in a shower of bad publicity. Stepping out from the exit of Piccadilly’s tube station and walking a little way up Shaftesbury Avenue, before hesitating at the curb to cross the road, she felt her iPhone vibrating as she was about to cross. As always the Air Pods were already in her ears, quickly answering, while keeping her eyes on the oncoming traffic. Going on to say, ‘hi yes, its me...did I survive the lock down you say, yes except I got myself stuck in Fulham, if I had any sense I would’ve got myself off to the country thinking that this virus thing would all blow over in no time at all. I'm just on my way to work... That is when I can get myself across Shaftesbury Avenue, just a couple of days ago I’m sure I could’ve walked across blindfolded thanks to that virus we’ve had to put up with. Yes you could say my new place of employment is somewhat different. I guess, a lot different... Yes I like it... What do I actually do?... I'm working on a documentary about the inexplicable... That's right you heard correctly, the inexplicable, that's what I've been told is the name for the time being and don't laugh. I tend to agree with you, it’s a bit odd I know, but it’s certainly no more inexplicable as far as my bills go. Especially my over extended Visa... Luckily I was not laid off not only that they kept on paying me. Look why don’t we have a drink tonight, or when you have got time... Okay. See you, bye.’ Feeling a little guilty for keeping the conversation on the short side. Knowing how she hated any distraction from this early morning stroll to work, with the liberating feeling it gave her. Since she had made the decision to leave journalism, it conveniently coincided when Sue had heard through the grapevine from a fellow journalist, that a TV production company was on the lookout for an assistant producer. While thinking this could be the break she had been looking for, having no wish to go back to her previous life, it took little effort on her part to find out who this TV Company was. On making , Sue was told that it was for a new programme scheduled to go on air in the autumn. At first, she had the lingering doubt that she was on the wrong side of twenty, but she knew that she had a wealth of experience behind her. This could not have come at a better time to mentally kick over that table, to get herself into this world of television. Sue ed getting the job at a very informal interview. Sue was

not asked to present herself at this possible future place of work, but to a wine bar the following evening about six. Being told to be holding a copy of “Campaign” magazine. At the time Sue thought this was all rather casual but quickly realised it very much fitted in with the character she was about to work for. Recalling the first part of the conversation well. When this middle-aged individual with slightly long greying hair came up to her, as she pushed open the door. Who immediately went on to say, ‘you must be the Sue Jameson that phoned me yesterday.’ Quickly going on to say before Sue could get a word in, ‘I had this nightmare that there would be at least half a dozen people holding that magazine. For an excruciating moment feeling like a person from one of them dating apps, looking for true love, not only that, going on to make a complete idiot of myself trying to find out who was who, but thank God none of that happened. Anyhow forgive my idiocy, I’m Mike, Mike Stratton. You seem to be just the person I'm looking for. Let me get you a drink, red or white? White did you say, I've got a bottle right here.’ On recollection it was a feeling of surprise, having given so very few sketchy details about herself on the phone the previous day. As he stretched out his hand to shake hers, while she quickly put the copy of “Campaign” magazine down on a nearby table. And without any further preamble he told her that the programme was about the inexplicable. He quickly went on to say, ‘you don't have to believe in any of that nonsense what so ever. To tell you the truth, I'm not too sure what it’s all about either. What we have to do is make the programme work. Before she was able to to raise her glass of wine to her lips, she was asked if she could start work as soon as possible. Sue guessed that this was a polite way of saying, right away. Sue recalled nodding her head in agreement as a business card of her future employer was thrust into her hand. Noticing that the name “Cosmos Communications” was to be her new place of employment. What was not forgotten, was the feeling of elation, when she was told the salary she would be paid. After that everything was a little bit of a blur. What really mattered and ed, was that she had the job.

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Sue ed at the time something like a month had gone by since she had

changed horses midstream for television and was coming up fast to the first jump. Sue quickly realised without further thought, as to what was to be the main part of her job. To get things underway for this documentary, adverts had been sent out to the majority of Britain's local newspapers asking for anybody who might have had any supernatural experiences, or the like. The number of replies had been quite staggering, as Sue had quickly found out. To scrutinise all these letters, sort out the more suitable stories from the world of the wild and wacky or in other words sorting out the kooks from the really deranged, a word that she got to know only too well and to find the more plausible candidate whose disposition was closer to normal, was to become an unexpected arduous task. Only for all this to come to a grinding halt when the Covid Virus made its devastating exposure felt. But what she did recall with some delight that this new job location had the effect of definitely finding herself in a far better frame of mind. Now she was back in the true heart of London. Shaftesbury Avenue was where the world of theatre really began. In Sue’s imagination it was like walking on stage. You could not help but think that Shakespeare was right. When he proclaimed that, “All the World’s a Stage.” And Sue’s guess that this was her entrance into the unknown. The Avenue itself had a completely different feel, unlike the brightness and brashness of Piccadilly Circus. Even her fellow pedestrians seem to be unlike any other. Sue had convinced herself that there was no harm in letting your imagination have its way, if it gave the start of your day a little edge. Unlike the evening, all her fellow pedestrians like herself were on their own. No laughing groups, or couples holding hands. Only solitary souls making their way in their own world, as was Sue. This was quickly enhanced as soon as you approached the first theatre. “The Lyric” with its glass canopy overhanging the pavement beneath were the doors where nightly theatre goers would enter. Large photographs of the actors looking out onto the faces of anybody who cared to look, together with positive edited comments of what the critics had to say about that production. Now the doors of the Lyric were closed reflecting back only the traffic with a brief mirrored image of herself against a red flash of a ing bus. The same doors tonight would be open, letting the warm light of the lobby flood out across the pavement while wrapping the theatre goer in this magical golden glow as they clutched their tickets. Together with a promise of the evening drama yet to come, taxi’s would set their engers down at the curb of the theatre, while the windows of the cabs would reflect back distorted images of the Lyric’s lobby. It was these repeating impressions that never lost their fascination, which certainly helped for the domain that she was now entering. Her job

certainly had more in common with the theatre than the one she had just left. And the start of something that even Sue’s imagination would find difficult to accept. Turning left at the theatre’s corner, while ing under a sign that said stage door this was really where Soho began. It was difficult to believe, as someone had related to her at that wine bar, where her new venture had started. Soho was once the middle of a Royal Deer Park. The hunting ground for royalty some 500 years ago. Where huntsmen would be crying out. “Soho, Soho.” This was where her new employer was now situated. Now anyone making their way into Soho from Piccadilly tube station would more than likely hear the cry of “mind the gap” as you were about to step off the tube on to the platform. Which was more than likely the first voice, that she and most other Londoners would notice as the day began. Sue by now had found a shortcut to Cosmos, which led through a maze of narrow streets and alleyways that during the morning were dismally quiet, a complete contrast that was felt as soon as the corner into Soho was turned. Now shafts of sunlight had found their way to lighten some of the darkened corners and doorways which of an evening would come to life as photographs of improperly beautiful and alluring girls to entice the unwary, were attached to the grimy walls of these doorways. A wandering tourist might well come across one of Soho's remaining alleys, and from one of these doorways would be a girl in a dress that would leave little for his imagination, while promising that his most intimate fantasies would be waiting for him inside while daring him to be brave enough to cross this threshold, only to find the more seamier side of life than what he had perhaps bargained for. It had often crossed Sue’s mind how this part of London must have looked in the days of London’s pea souper fogs so often featured in movies, and all so very disturbing. Though when Sue made her way home in the evening, she chose a more conservative route. Finally her walk this morning coming out midway up Wardour Street to the glass fronted building of Cosmos Communications. Wardour Street had its own agenda, that was somewhat different from the more doubtful reputation of Soho. This street hosting various offices of movie and TV production companies, one being Sue’s own place of work. What had escaped Sue, was that being back in the centre of London was the sheer number of temptations to be faced. Especially for the discerning gourmet. Also not 10 minutes away was Covent Garden with its Visa destroying boutiques. ‘Control

yourself,’ Sue muttered to herself. Knowing how easy it was to bend the plastic into a financial wipe out, as she pushed against the revolving doors of the Cosmos building. Giving a glancing smile to the security personnel behind their desk, while walking across the white marbled lobby to the lift, as the doors were opening in front of her, stepping in and pressing the button to the third floor, at the same time going through her shoulder bag searching for the office keys. Stepping away from the closing doors of the lift which was only a few steps away from a glass door marked TV productions and with keys in hand, Sue marched up to the door, inserted the right key, and giving the door a shove to open, she realised that she was still a little on the early side. As yet there was no sign of the receptionist. Turning on the light, it was the usual sight of Mike’s desk in complete disarray, going over to her more organised side of the office. Slipping her shoulder bag off on to her desk, while looking up at the office clock, saw that it confirmed what she had thought, that it was still only coming up to nine, which was really what Sue had intended. The office, or the production office, to give its more correct name as yet still had a little bit of the un-lived in feel, apart from Mike’s after lunch sofa, that was definitely struggling to fit in with the more glossy look of the Cosmos world, Mike had once mention that he brought over the sofa from the advertising agency where he had once resided explaining to her that it helped him to think when something creative was urgently needed. Though Sue was more of the opinion that its main use was for a quick nap to ward off the effects of one glass of wine too many. As far as Sue herself was concerned she had her coffee maker, an item needed above anything else. She also knew it was only a matter time before the clutter that escaped from Mikes part of the room would continue to overtake the rest. Sue headed straight over to the Gaggia espresso coffeemaker, this was something that Sue had been able to talk Mike into reasoning that if Cosmos was able to provide Mike with the latest 27 inch iMac they could well afford a coffeemaker that had quickly been added soon after her arrival. Together with the general office equipment without another word being said, it duly appeared. Sue was nearly always in before Mike. It was not that she felt she had to be. It was a question of the coffee and certainly not of the instant variety. This was a task that Sue happily applied herself too. How could you start the day except by a cup of the real deal? This was perhaps the only thing that Sue was not about to change. Not a task she would reluctantly delegate to anyone, such was the love for the early morning brew. Even managing to get Mike to see the light as far as real coffee was concerned.

The coffee machine was beginning to make the right kind of coffee making sounds while the aroma of percolated coffee began to fill the room as she settled herself at her desk that overlooked Wardour Street. Mike preferred the other end of the room which was darker, allowing him to view the results of any future video shootings in a more suitable light. That would soon begin when necessary locations and claimants of the inexplicable around the country were found. Ading the office was a meeting room with a large table, which served as a useful function for looking at all the incoming mail that had piled-up since the ment concerning the project had begun to appear in newspapers and magazines around the country. Having browsed through the many letters that had been received, some so extraordinary it was difficult to know what to think, apart from the temptation to hurl them into the rubbish bin, it was now the time to make those crucial decisions. Taking a final sip of her morning coffee, which she hoped would be enough to brace herself to tackle the final selection of letters, she entered the ading room and sat down to confront the final stack. At first, all Sue could do was just to stare at the letters. What had occurred to her earlier on, that luckily someone in the PR office had had the good sense that a postal address would be far better than an email one, Sue immediately saw the downside of that, if that had happened. There was one thing that postal mail had over eMail as far as Sue was concerned, that an actual letter gave you far more insight into the writer than whatever an eMail could ever do. With that thought in mind, took a deep breath, reached forward to take hold of the top most letter. The one thing all the letters had in common, was their odd confrontations, that the writers had earnestly put to paper. Now she told herself, that something like a small degree of luck, she might find the more believable ones, with their somewhat unsettling encounters which could be used for the programme itself. This would save time, it would certainly help in view of the months and days that had been lost due to the virus that had brought everything to a crashing standstill. Sitting down to start the task to scrutinise and eliminate the vast majority while hoping, but without a great deal of optimism, though at the same time to find at least half a dozen or so of the more plausible, which would allow her together with Mike, to make that very final important choice. What she knew for sure, was that she was, as always certainly in earlier than Mike her new boss. He was much closer to ten in the morning, Mike was not known as an early starter. Unless some idiot as Mike would refer to this person,

who might have been audacious enough to pen in a so called breakfast meeting. It had crossed her mind at times to really wonder what the job really entailed. At first she was amused by the nature of the work, and that thought still lingered. The unlikely phenomena that had afflicted the majority of those who had replied, was it seemed to Sue could at best be classed, as a bit of a joke, that was the only conclusion she was sure of, that most people would also have no trouble coming too. But if that is what sold, who was she to think otherwise? A subject matter that was certainly putting cash into her pocket in not unreasonable amounts. Her actual title was assistant production manager. What this entailed, as she came to believe, was to never let Mike lack suitable material concerning the project, though this was not actually ever mentioned. Allowing for his creative drive to manipulate it in a way that the documentary would begin to take shape,.once things got under way. Which should happily keep Mike pointing in the right direction. Not only that, she knew she was very much of a sounding board that Mike needed for all the creative ideas that he came up with. Documentary was its official classification, though the general consensus was that it was more closer related to infotainment. The end result would be to give viewers riveting TV. She knew it was up to her how she occupied her day. Should she have ever mentioned it to Mike concerning the matter of her actual duties. He would more than likely given her a blank look, and say something too vague to make any sense. But her guess was that Mike was confident in some way that she was the person he needed. One thing Sue knew for sure, that Soho was a far better location to work in, than that God forsaken outer reaches of the River Thames, once the sea port area of London, where the newspapers had now found themselves from their once traditional home of Fleet Street. And ing only too well the terrible journey she had of getting to that side of London. Sue was gradually beginning to believe that this was a job she could begin to love as much as her early morning coffee.

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Sue hearing the door open behind her, hearing Mike as he said, ‘morning Sue. Tell me it's a good day.’

In a tone that only suggested that it would be anything but. Mike was not, as Sue had now observed the kind of person to hide his emotions. Upfront was Mike’s style. ‘Morning to you,’ turning around to see Mike who was throwing his well worn leather jacket on to the back of his chair. ‘Depends on what’s your idea of a good day actually is ? Tell me, and I’ll see if I can shed a little light onto it.’Something made Sue hesitate before Mike could reply. ‘There's something different about you, I would say that you are a little more on the trimmer side, given up going to your favourite watering holes or something? ‘If only, nothing so simple. I caught the bleeding virus, fortunately not too seriously. The only downside was that drinking was put on hold, and I certainly did not have much in the way of an appetite.’ ‘If you don't mind me saying so, I do believe that it might have done you some good, I guess you look a lot healthier than when I last saw you before we got locked down because of the virus. Though I don't suppose it will stop you going into overcrowded bars when ever the opportunity presents itself, which are no doubt feeling the pinch somewhat with your lack of custom.’ Said Sue with a grin that had spread across her face. ‘Well thanks for that. I suppose the crucial thing now is to try and get back to where we left off which almost seems like a decade ago. If my memory has not let me down, while ing all too well, at the same time it seems to be emblazoned deep into the nether recesses on my brain and I doubt without any further thought anything has had the goodness to change. Simply this, too many nuts out there saying, they were abducted by an alien.’ Going on to say in a voice that carried more than a hint of despair. ‘What was I thinking? I must have been a bloody idiot to be enticed into this insane world of TV. I only too well what my dear old dad used to say.’ “Just think of the money.” If only it was that simple. Sorry Sue one does have these slight mental breakdowns on occasions.’ Going on to say more to himself. ‘Not even allowed a bloody fag, to smoke my misery away. Yes I know Sue, I haven't forgotten that I've given up the dreaded weed. And as far as the scheduling goes for this documentary I haven't even dare to look, let alone ask. Let sleeping dogs lie, is my immediate thought.’ Mike had left a very comfortable position as creative director of a 3A’s

advertising agency. Only to leave with the on going nagging thought of had he done the right thing? Double the money had certainly helped to push him in that direction. Maybe his latent ego had something to do with it too. So like it or not, here he was the creative director of Cosmos TV productions, all part of Cosmos Communication International. He knew only too well that he had made his choice, like a marriage. For better or for worse, in this so called wonderful world of TV. Mike looked even more despondent lounging back at his desk, while blankly looking at an even blanker computer screen. As Sue turned to look at the hissing coffee machine that was demanding her attention for her second cup of the day. Asking Mike if a cup of coffee would put his world into a somewhat of a better focus. ‘You're too kind,’ replied Mike who had slumped even further down in the all too comfortable chair behind his desk. ‘Well you can at least brood with your coffee in comfort.’ Said Sue with a sympathetic smile. ‘You know what Sue? I cannot help but think that if anybody was to ask me what I was about to embark on, or even to ask my opinion, you know what I would say? A lot of bloody rubbish would be my more than likely my emphatic reply. But as I am sure you know, we are not about to be asked that pertinent question. So as you might well discern, if you happen to look in the general direction of my desk, laying there, where now I cannot fail to see it, is that uncompromising production schedule. Not only that, I'm sure it will not be before long when one of the fools in a suit will put his head around the door. Saying, no doubt with an enquiring look on his face, at the same time asking, how's it all going Mike?... ‘Thanks for the coffee.’ turning his face once more to the computer while drinking the remains of his coffee, and to nurse his grievances that were directed to the upper floors of Cosmos. Turning away from the computer, and gazing at the window behind Sue. ‘This programme which we are so earnestly trying to put together, is without a doubt turning up a lot of borderline... what can I say?’ ‘Lunatic fringe, for want of a better word.’ Offered Sue with an expression of empathy for Mike’s barely hidden frustration. ‘Perhaps another coffee would help?’

‘I guess it would.’ Mike with coffee halfway up to his mouth, only to lower it slowly back to his desk. Swivelled his chair around, looked across to Sue once more, who was just about finishing up her cup. Sue, could not but help noticing his rather perplexed look. ‘Would I be right in thinking that perhaps you’re worried about something or other?’ ‘Worried? No not so much worried, though no doubt I should be. But maybe its crossed your mind too?’ ‘And what might have crossed my mind together with yours?’ ‘Here we are trying to put together a documentary on a subject that neither us really has a clue about. Odd, don't you think? We might as well be putting a documentary together about chicken farming for the idiot, or something along those unfathomable lines.’ Sue gazed at Mike's face for a couple of seconds before replying. ‘Well I'll be lying if I had any thoughts otherwise, it has certainly crossed my mind too. And as you say, we are not exactly experts, if that is what they are called, who deal with this particular kind of subject. I have to it when I see anything remotely concerning something that is not normally of this world on T V, newspapers, or come to that, the Internet. I find myself taking it all in, as to what is being said. And much to my surprise, I have come to the conclusion, at least for me anyway that there are more than a few people out there who are convinced, in what they have seen or experienced and it would seem for them, all too real. We certainly have the evidence for that, given the huge number of replies we've had. So, in other words, what we have been calling a bit of nonsense, I have to say, all at the same time I guess, though a little reluctantly I must it, you cannot dismiss it all so lightly. What also occurs to me, even if we are somewhat on the sceptical side of all this, that the writers of these piles of letters that we are confronted with, are anything but. Sue, hesitated for a moment as Mike digested her point of view and before before Mike could actually voice any opinions of his own on the matter Sue went on to say. ‘By the look on your face you don't sound too convinced.’ ‘Well, as to what your thoughts are, and to be honest, I reluctantly have to agree with you. Though for myself I have not taken much interest in all what we seem

to be embracing. But you're right, you just can't turn your back on it. After that avalanche of replies we’ve had. Anyhow for our own good, let's hope there is.’ Was Mikes reply with something that resembled a fleeting smile evident on his face. ‘What I’ve come to understand is this,’ said Mike looking a little more serious. ‘I feel that we don't want to go down the same road, to similar shows as ours. Which is not the way to go. Let’s not hear from those upstairs, holding the pursestrings even before this enterprise gets on the road, that the rs are not that happy.’ ‘That is one truth we cannot deny. It would be good to be in their shoes, if they only knew what we have to go through.’ ‘I'm not being unsympathetic, but that is as maybe. But as I just said, we have to break out of this format of science freak shows. If we are going to have any chance what so ever of breaking into the ratings top 10. That you can might well say, is just one of our many little problems.’ ‘I guess there is no easy answer to that one, if only I could tell you...’ ‘Tell me what?’ Pronounced Mike not looking at all happy, ‘that there was a definite sighting of the Loch Ness monster or something else weird and wonderful.’ ‘I know that the powers that be, are inclined to think that we can pull all this, out of some proverbial hat. Or should I say a magician’s hat. I’m sure that they have no idea that this kind of thing is just a little bit thin on the ground. And I don't suppose we’ll get much in the way of sympathy.’ ‘I hate to remind you’, said a rather emphatic Mike, still not looking the happiest person in the world, ‘but that is exactly what we’re being paid for.’ While stirring his coffee more stridently than usual. Mike’s escape was to turn morosely back to his Mac to try and find something of a more happier nature. While Sue gazed out of the window, giving herself a brief moment of day dreaming, barely hearing Mikes onishment. Seeing only a reflected image of herself, one that was free of her day to day worries. And murmuring to herself under her breath, ‘there's got to be other ways in paying my Visa bill.’ Suddenly her old life felt quite appealing. I guess there's

nothing wrong with keeping your options open at the very least, Sue reminded herself. Casting her mind back to the days as a newspaper journalist when she worked for one of the Sundays. It was more than likely a story about some errant member of Parliament having an extra marital lover of either sex, or some vicar doing what he should not. And now thinking of the privileged life she could have led. And almost smiling at the thought. Even from her boarding school days, and those days of the few hunt balls she had attended, during the so-called season. She had easily come to the decision and decided that being chased as suitable marriage material was not for her. Fortunately she had got reasonable grades in English, which allowed her to get herself a job on the local rag. At the same time keeping her family background firmly under wraps from everybody but close friends and family. She wondered what Mike would think if he only knew that she had the title of Lady. That was kept quiet unless you wanted to work on the social pages of one of the glossy magazines. She had put even more distance between her aristocratic background by not using her first Christian name, that her rather snobbish grandmother had insisted on. It was far too debbie for words. She ed her late grandmother well. She never seemed to be able to speak a sentence without the words of ghastly or frightfully. She was determined not to let her grandmother vocabulary become part of hers, though she knew that she still had the tendency to say frightful, once in a while. But certainly not that Christian name. It was Sue's mother's middle name that won the day. Social tit tat was hardly investigative journalism. And what now could the future possibly hold, with this move into television? As the hovering thought that had found its way into her day to day meanderings. ‘Sorry if I sounded a little bit abrupt just now.’ Only just hearing Mike’s voice that had broken through a moment of dreamy nostalgia, as she reached across her desktop for the tissue box, pulling out a tissue to mop up some spilt coffee. ‘My problem is this, I can't help but look back to those days not so long ago, when I was in that comfortable world of advertising. Everything was more or less straightforward, whether you are advertising a pancake mix or a car, all very much up front and simple. But this... what we appear to be involved in, let alone understand. And somewhat flaky to start with. Anyhow try and forgive me for being somewhat sorry for myself. Tell me if I'm right, but is that far away look on your face, that you could be well wishing that you were somewhere else, or better still you are about to tell me that you’ve been struck by a great idea?’ Looking expectantly at Sue. ‘Or was that just wishful thinking on my part?’

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Sue open her mouth to reply, when the phone suddenly burst into life. ‘Here we go again, is this going to be the answer to this maiden's prayer?’ Remarked Sue more to herself, than Mike, as she gave it a chance to ring once more, before reaching for the receiver. ‘Production.’ Sue said in a voice that was little above a murmur. And almost holding her breath waiting for the reply. ‘Would I be speaking to Sue Jameson?’ A hesitant voice said into her ear. ‘Yes, that's me.’ At the same time thinking who could this possibly be? It was not a voice she could instantly put a name to. ‘I don't know if you me, but we met with a mutual friend of mine. By the way my name is Bob Walker. I guess it must have been about a month ago or so.’ Sue was still trying desperately to connect the name with a face, at the same time trying to bring her brain into focus.‘Sorry who did you say?’ ‘Bob Walker, I...’ ‘Yes I now.’ Sue said before a new exchange could take place, still not with absolute clarity if she really did. While hoping as the conversation progressed further enlightenment would hopefully become more or less apparent. ‘I you saying that you were going to work for a TV production company. The name Cosmos and your name for some reason stuck in my mind. It's about my friend, a girl. Not a girlfriend by the way, it's someone I‘ve known since I was a kid. Anyhow to cut a bit of a long story short. It’s just this, she has been having some rather strange experiences of late. And as I had known her for such a long time I took what she was saying seriously, where anybody else might well have just dismissed it all as some silly fantasy. So what I ed when we met, that you were going to work on a TV documentary about the strange experiences that some people have had, or something of that nature. So thats

why I am giving you a call. ‘Yes I now.’ Sue said with more confidence than when she first picked up the phone, as the mental penny finally dropped. ‘If I correctly it was in that wine bar with all the bottles hanging off the ceiling, it must have been around the time of their happy hour. How are you? I'm glad you called, what you have told me so far sounds very interesting, tell me more.’ ‘It's a bit difficult to know where to begin. Basically it's about dreams she has been experiencing. The difference being unlike the dreams that most people have. They have had an impact on her everyday life. I hope I'm not rambling on too much, but there is a lot more to this to tell. Look I'm not that wonderful of talking over the phone, especially about this. Could I possibly meet up with you somewhere or other. If you like, come in to see you where you work if that would be any easier.’ Before Bob could speed on any further, Sue said. ‘I think you have better give me some more details about these dreams your friend has been... having.’ ‘Sorry. I'll try and fill you in with more detail.’ ‘No please go on, take your time, no hurry.’ ‘To be quite honest I'm a bit embarrassed by all this. The name of this friend of mine is Jackie, Jackie Trent.’ ‘Yes, that name seems to ring a bell.’ While trying again to bring back that evening into memory. At the same time a mental picture of a rather beautiful blonde girl. But as she recalled it was a face that was not easily forgotten. And Mike! It was when she had first met Mike, this was the same wine bar she had been told to go to, and to see what this proposed job was all about. Fleetingly thinking how odd. A strange happenstance. Now realising it was after Mike’s job offer, she had got in conversation with Jackie and Bob. And it must have been there she had let it slip, that she had just being given the job, while vaguely mentioning what the programme would be about, along with the name of Cosmos. ‘Please go on.’ ‘Well Jackie wanted me to forget all about it, she seemed a little worried, I think she may have been slightly scared. That's when I mentioned you to Jackie. I had this vague recollection of you talking to her. So she, that's Jackie said to me, that

if I wanted to you, to go ahead. I really felt that she was anxious to share her experiences with someone else, although I guess she was feeling a little uneasy about it, a little shy of the limelight maybe. So as you might understand, that was how I got around to calling you.’ ‘Look, you’re right, I get the feeling that it would be easier for you to relate this story to me in person.’ Sue interrupted. ‘Why not pop into our offices say this Friday midday-ish. If that's okay with you, and you can tell me the whole story then.’ ‘Yes that would be really good.’ Replied Bob. ‘Hang on, I'll give you our address, we’re in Soho, Wardour Street. You can't miss it, it’s an all new glass mirrored sided building on your left, about midway. The easiest way to find us is to come from the Oxford Street end. I suggest you come by Tube to Oxford Circus, then walk up Oxford Street until you come to Wardour Street, much less confusing than the Piccadilly end. You know what London traffic is like, not only that you have to pay the outrageous congestion charge as they call it, to get anywhere near us.’ ‘Okay I'll look forward to meeting you again, see you Friday, twelve-ish.’ ‘Well let's hope this is the start of something more hopeful. We could do with some new ideas around here to liven the place up a bit.’ Sue insinuated more to herself than Mike, as she put down the phone. Mike when he had caught the gist of the conversation that Sue was having. Turned away from the computer that had been holding his attention, hardly noticing to what he had actually been looking at, before pushing his chair back, while saying to Sue. ‘What I caught of that conversation and dare I say it. That we now have a glimmer of hope. Not that I'm clutching at straws. Tell you what, when what's his name comes in, treat him to lunch, don't go mad. Our usual Italian around the corner.’ ‘Now I know as to why they call you a creative director.’ ‘You could say that.’ Mike replied, and what Sue perceived what could only be called a flicker of smugness is his smile. Lunch on the house thought Sue, that is something to look forward too. Just what

I need, what's more it's still only Wednesday. If nothing else it will remind me of what lunch is actually like. Lunch was more than likely a sandwich. If she could find herself with enough time in the morning to put one together, before leaving her Fulham home. Occasional sharing a delivered pizza with Mike, when he found there was just not enough time to have a liquid one. Which was always his idea of what lunch should be, and always at his favourite watering hole. When perhaps some essential but minor detail that was urgently required. To Mike’s dismay, lunch on such occasions was put on the back burner together with that sacred glass of wine. For Sue today was more of the same, the same being to make her way through the final replies that had been received in answer to all those newspaper and magazine ment that had been placed around the country. Looking across at this final stack of letters that confronted her, she had no doubt it had somewhat diminished in size from when she had first started. The crucial few would be extracted from this final collection. This selection was now forming an ever increasing pile in front of her. Mike and herself would make the ultimate choice sometime on Friday. Sorting the so called wheat from the chaff. She was hoping, and not to mention a little anxious, that this telephone call together with the forthcoming lunch might be the break they were looking for. And mark the moment when the documentary finally starts to take on the resemblance of a TV programme. That would eventually and hopefully become must see viewing.

Chapter 2

Friday finally arrived, with the fine spring weather still holding out for London, at least against anything worse that might be possibly forecast. As usual Sue together with many other fellow early birds were finding their way through the many warrens of alleyways and narrow streets that made up Soho, for Sue it led her to the glass fronted building of Cosmos itself. It was the end of the week, not only that this was the day of the lunch. A decent one, courtesy of Cosmos Communications International. How much better could life get reflected Sue. Certainly a lot better than Monday, that was for sure. What Sue was beginning to understand, that this job was not going to be so easy as first thought. Along with the general feeling, and at the same time the odd comments from Mike. On top of that was when all these strange manifestation had made themselves felt. Was the time when the writers of these letters had put pen to paper. Now it was Sue’s task to put some kind of perspective of comprehension plausible. Even to the most sceptical of people, this might well just take a little more explaining than Sue would have ever thought possible. She was quickly coming to the conclusion, that there were not statues of blood crying virgins, and the like around every corner. What is it that they say? Another day, another buck, more likely another nut. Contemplated Sue to herself, as she was about to cross Wardour Street to Comos’s glass cladded building which was casting the light of the sun on to the once darker side the street. It was certainly with an intensifying feeling of confidence for today’s impending lunch. To be once more as in her newspaper days, to actually come face-to-face with someone with an authentic story to tell. Sue pushed against the revolving door of the Cosmos building getting a cheery good morning from the security desk, as she made her way across the white gleaming like stage of the lobby, together with her the subconscious imagination for the first act, and the forthcoming mysterious lunch later today, continuing thoughtfully onwards towards the lift. Pressing the up button, with a slight hiss the doors slid open as if by magic. Press a button and that's it. That's how all problems should be resolved. Reality rushed back with a good morning from Mike as he entered the lift behind her.

‘Looking good,’ said Mike, as she turned around to greet him. So even Mike had noticed that she had made a little more of an effort this morning to glam-up some what, to make her lunch on this day to feel more of an occasion. And perhaps to inspire in this person a feeling of confidence, to relate his friend’s seemingly unsettling story. While at the same time, thinking it's not every day you get the chance to have a decent lunch. ‘Well, give us girls a touch of sunshine and see what you get, and you're not looking too bad in consideration of your trimmed down self.’ The one thing you could say about Mike that crossed her mind, was that he was always ready with the compliments. ‘A little early for you? I'm in shock.’ Remarked Sue with surprise ing on her face. ‘I can only imagine that one of the suits have asked for a breakfast meeting, which I know you so love.’ ‘You got that one right for sure, apart from the love bit, some idiot suit felt that my presence was required for some bloody meeting. What is it with these idiots, can't they make their own coffee or something in the mornings? Mind you, it's my guess that they think they can put over some dumb idea. As the rest of us, are so out of it to put up any sound argument, idiots.’ Was Mike’s last word on the subject. Sue was not about to say another word on that particular topic. Only to mention, ‘my lunch day ? With that person who gave us a call earlier in the week.’ ‘Yes, only too well, let's hope that this person, what ever his name is, can conjure up something that will trigger some kind of story for us. We can only hope it comes with a bit of meat and depth to it, dare I say. I'll certainly be keeping my fingers crossed for you, at least I'll raise my glass of wine to you come lunchtime.’ ‘You're too kind, well if nothing else happens we can always do a programme on the magic of crossed fingers, or at worse we can always drown our sorrows. Don't worry Mike, I've got a good feeling for this one.’ On reaching the office door, Mike hesitating before stepping inside turned to Sue, then going on to say, ‘let's hope so. Your turn at the coffeemaker, or mine?’ ‘Let me, I don't want you slipping back into your awful instant when I'm not

looking, having finally weaned you into the real thing. At least I can get that all important espresso taste I like so much.’ Staring at his coffee cup, Mike started to think back to when he took on this new venture. He knew that he had to get the viewing figures that were going to be above average. Otherwise it would be a quick trip back into the world of advertising, and all the nonsense that goes on with that little world. There, he at least knew what was going on around him, and had a pretty good relationship with all the oddball characters that inhabited the many facets of advertising. That would be just too much to travel back there. And he knew that only too well, it was the temptation of money that got him to sign on the dotted line in the first place. It wasn't just the money, knowing it was that competitive nature of his that would push him on. And being safe, was not a part of his character. Even with a few award winning commercials under his belt, and they had somehow lost their shine. What had become even more than apparent, it was a project he could not just easily walk away from. The research department for this TV production, had told him that the viewing public have a taste for the unexplained. At least that gave a crumb of comfort, though not much of one, thought Mike at the time. While knowing without any kind of doubt it was all down to him to make it happen. And that was the only concern that really mattered. What it all really boils down too, is that the rs will actually buy space, which will make everybody happy, especially those on the uppermost floors. Mike knew that this production would have a good chance of success. If nothing else the programme would have excellent promos that would wet the viewers appetite. The format of the show was to find the more believable individuals. It was an earlier guess of his, that finding such individuals would be easier said than done. Mike at first had no idea as to the amazing response, that had arrived through the various ads the PR department had placed in magazines and newspapers up and down the country. They were virtually swamped in replies. It was at this time he decided that a good personal assistant would be a good idea. That this someone should have a good journalistic background. How Sue was actually found, he had not questioned. But what he really knew for sure, and often wondered how he would have coped without her. She really had made a big difference. Even thinking that he was the assistant, and it was Sue who was in charge. But he had enough sense to let her get on with it. As to the replies, it really was quite staggering, it certainly led credence to the saying that there's

more to the world than actually meets the eye. The problem was trying to find the more plausible phenomena that these letter writers had experienced. The audience he was aiming at would soon tire of the more extreme harebrained and lunatic fringe, should they be presented on TV. He had no doubt in his mind that this was the reason, was why other such shows had failed. Mulling over this fact, he recalled a friend who had told him a story that had suddenly entered into his brooding deliberations. At that time he did not think too much about it, one way or the other. But now thinking back it certainly had curious overtones. He knew that he was a sceptic of the first order. But there again he felt sure that this friend would certainly not spin such a fatuous story. He actually ed that questioning feeling that must have crossed his face at the time. The story had stuck in his mind for some reason. He could only guess, that because it was about John Lennon, where it would no doubt for ever remain. Casting his mind back, this recollection was easy to recall. His friend was a photographer who had taken a photo of Lennon sometime back in the 60s. He had framed the picture. At about the time he was murdered, the picture fell from the studio wall. Just a coincidence of course. Even today, it still left him with a strange feeling. And now whether he liked it or not, there it remained in the murky vaults of his memory until now. ‘A penny for your thoughts.’ Sue said as she looked across at Mike. ‘Sorry.’ Said a slightly disorientated Mike. ‘Yeah, I was miles away.’ ‘I was just about to give you a penny for them.’ ‘Okay, here's your pennies worth. It's just this, as to where we go from here? Crunch time, once all this was on the far horizon, not any longer, it’s now approaching faster than I care to believe. The way to go I guess, is to start actually making with the more likely ones i.e. the ones that are not totally round the bend. And I'm sure they would tell us without much prompting on our part. As to what mystifying happenings have edged into their lives. Well for starters, at least we have your lunch date to be going on with. So what we better do this morning is to go through the ones that you have sorted out geographically, as I’ve been informed by those on the upper floors of this building, that sponsors are keen on geographical regions. Why, I'm not at all sure. Anyhow it helps us to refine our search somewhat. Now all we have got to do, is to grab hold of the more likely ones. Hopefully the viewing public will go along with our choice. Someone, that is the viewer, who can perhaps even feel

they can actually identify with. What we don't need, is a knee jerk reaction, of pull the other one. And with one foul swoop, reach for their remotes and immediately change channels. So you can see the problem, we've got to grab their attention one way or another.’ ‘I’ve got what you’re saying.’ Sue replied. ‘If we spread ourselves out in the conference room, which will give us a lot more room with the amount of paperwork we have accumulated since this project started. Give me a couple of minutes or so, to sort things out in there. And hopefully we can make this start into the unknown. And who knows even shed a little light on this perplexing world we now find ourselves in.’ ‘Hope you're right.’ Said Mike not looking at all sure to Sue’s back, as she disappeared into the conference room. Soon the conference table had some half a dozen piles of letters spread over its surface. Sue had already placed the more suitable ones on top of each pile. Each pile was divided up into the different categories of what had been experienced. The largest being from those who thought they had seen ghosts, followed by poltergeists who to Sue seem to be the scariest, and the most real. It was the letters about poltergeist that bought back an almost forgotten memory. ing when an editor on a paper that she had once worked, telling her a story of when he was a junior journalist about a house in Enfield, that was plagued by a poltergeist. Of all these strange experiences it seemed to Sue that what ever they were, were in fact to the letter writer all very real. As for UF0s, that seemed altogether the less scary. But she guessed not for those who had said that they had been abducted by an alien. After everything else there was slightly less for reincarnation and clairvoyance. And other were too confusing to be put anywhere. After some thought Sue decided that aliens and UF0’s did not really fit in, and excluded them from anything that would be deemed paranormal. Finally giving a look across the table and immediately ed all too well the Post Office sack full of such letters beside her desk. Now all her efforts were now out in front of her, that had eventually cumulated to the final result of her careful editing. As the last few weeks had gone by, she had came to the conclusion that the world was some what on the nutty side. What were left as far as Sue was concerned, were reasonably plausible, if not altogether believable. As she said to her friend on her mobile the other morning, that was not her problem. But what was important, it was certainly helping to pay the bills.

Sue had developed a feeling of optimism, that this Friday lunch was finally here. With the expectations to what it could possibly hold, it was up to her to make this work. Mike on the other hand had one destination in mind for his Friday date. “The French Pub” it would take more than wild or even phantom horses to keep Mike from his sacred glass of wine or two. ‘Bloody hell.’ Was Mike’s reaction when he walked into the conference room a few minutes later. ‘I can see you have been hard at work getting all this lot sorted. I can only say it must have been more than totally overwhelming. And I guess now all we have to do is to make that final choice.’ ‘Yes you could say that, anyhow make yourself comfortable while I go and get another couple of coffees to ease the pain. Feel free to help yourself to any of the letters that confront you. These are the ones that make some sort of sense, all the others are in that Post Office sack over there. And should you care to read any of them, I'm sure you’ll agree with me that these writers, have led me to believe, were going in the general direction on what we might call insanity. At the very least appear to be dissolving into the land of fantasy. So,’ said a grinning Sue. ‘I might suggest don't dip your hand into that bag, otherwise I might never ever see you again.’

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As she approached the open door of the conference room with two coffees in hand. Could not help but hear Mike’s cry of disbelief . ‘Good grief,’ while looking up as Sue placed a coffee in front of Mike. Going on to say, ‘there is this individual, some guy up in Scotland somewhere...’ ‘I imagine that you are not going to tell me he has seen the Loch Ness Monster.’ Exclaimed Sue. ‘Noo. You are perfectly correct in that assumption,’ grinned Mike. ‘No, even better than that. Evidently,’ Mike continued, waving the letter around in front of him. Before putting it down and picking up his coffee. ‘Just listen to this,’ as he picked up the letter once more in his other hand. ‘He writes,’ “While

walking home from his local one evening. When a young woman.” ‘His words not mine, approached him. He then writes,’ “asking if I knew where number 57 was.” ‘Now this is the more interesting bit.’ “I replied that it was just over the fence where we were standing. I turned, and pointed to where it was...” ‘he further writes that it had been blown away by a direct hit during a German bombing raid over that part of Scotland during the second world war. Now get ready for this, this is a really weird bit.’ Said Mike raising his eyebrows. ‘He goes on to say,’ “but the house was there! I have walked past this bomb site more times than I care to , and even been pushed past it by my mother in my pram as a child. That house was never rebuilt, since it was destroyed in the early 40s. Yet there it was, the house was in darkness, but I could see it silhouetted against the night sky. And every so often it was lit up by flashes and searchlights criss-crossing the sky. I've seen enough World War II movies to understand that. Though it took me a few seconds to realise as to what I was looking at.” Mike hesitated to sip his coffee. Hardly noticing that Sue was listening, went on reading more quietly to himself. ‘Go on speak up, I can hardly hear you. This sounds even better than the X files, should you them. It’s actually giving me goosebumps.’ ‘Sorry Sue, I was so taken away by this story, I forgot you were there.’ ‘Well you might say, it's certainly grabbed your attention test. Go on, get on with it so I can hear it too.’ ‘Right where were we?’ ‘The house reappearing.’ prompted Sue. Mike continue to quote the man's story with a childlike enthusiasm. “When I started to believe my own eyes as to what I had seen, everything had become very silent. I felt that I could hear my own heart pounding. With a feeling of confusion like I have never experienced in my life before. I spun around to look for the girl as I turned back from the house, only to notice that the house was gone. As was the girl. The same rubbish covered corner of the road I've always known. I know I saw the house and the girl. Well that's the story. What more can I say, but it's the truth.” Mike paused, ‘he went on to say that when he got home

his wife was already in bed, and remarking that he was so shaken, that if his wife had been awake, she might well have thought that I was having a heart attack. Or I’ve had one too many. He finished the letter by saying, that he felt a little foolish about writing this letter.’ ‘I must say, for the most part you could well assert, together with a degree of certainty, that someone like yourself who's not too impressed by such occurrences. Would I be correct, in saying that you are having a change of heart, or would I be jumping the gun somewhat in that respect?’ While trying as may, to keep a straight face, but at the same time she could see that Mike was quite impressed by the letter. Slowly taking up her cup of coffee while looking at Mike but saying nothing for a couple of seconds, to give herself time to give a more measured reply, went on to remark. ‘I would say yes, it could be the intriguing start of some story. And I have to agree with certain reservation, it certainly sounds like the story we are looking for, if we are both truthful to ourselves.’ ‘There is a little more,’ Mike replied, ‘yes, you could be right on both s, I was more than a little impressed by the letter. But even now, I'm not too sure about your insinuation, that I’ve had a change of heart. Though to be truthful, I have to say it certainly makes you think somewhat.’ ‘I can't help but have the feeling, together with my own journalistic instincts, that you seem to be telling me that this might well be a story that we could possibly run with.’ ‘Yes, you could well be right. As I said, there’s a little more.’ Mike replied. ‘Then tell me what you think, if this letter has the kind of ingredients we are looking for.’ Taking a further sip of his coffee carried on reading. “A few weeks later, I was in my local having a quick pint, and standing at the bar was a neighbour of mine, who was also about to order his drink. By the way, I had more or less forgotten about this incident. So we did our hellos and how are you’s. And I offered to get him a drink. Having got his pint for him, he looked at me as if wondering whether to tell me something or not, anyhow he did. And these were his exact words, if I correctly.” “Look, I've known you for sometime now. I'm not sure how to say this, something very odd happened to me last Friday.” I almost knew for sure as to what he was about to say.

“You know that corner house the one that was bombed during the war...” Before he could go on, I said that I knew exactly what he was about to say. “You too!” My neighbour exclaimed. “You saw like I did, the house and it reappearing, and that girl.” So to cut this experience short, mine and his. It was a few days later when my wife came across your ment, telling me to write this letter. Seeing I was not the only one, to have had this rather unsettling encounter. And my wife by then had got fed up on hearing me going on about it.” ‘So thats it more or less, even for me it has a ring of truth about it. What do you think?’ Looking across at Sue who had remained silent. ‘Or if you like, what's your input on that?’ ‘It reminds me of a story that my aunt had told me when I was a kid. It has always stuck in my mind, except that this story from our Mr Simpson has a stronger ring of authenticity about it, which is perhaps more than can be said for my aunts.’ ‘My attention is all yours, entertain me with your aunts story.’ Now looking a good deal more relaxed, having got Mr Simpson story off his chest. ‘Lets have it.’ ‘I always thought of it as more of a horror story really. I think my aunt had been trying to scare me. If I rightly, I think I had asked her for a bed-time ghost story.’ ‘I guess I would be right in saying, it looks like you got the right job at least with that background. Sorry to interrupt, go on.’ ‘As I was saying as to why it reminded me of Mr Simpson story. My aunt’s one also had a building involved, not a house, actually a bridge. That's a building of sorts isn't it? Not only that, there was a girl.’ ‘Go on, you've got me hooked.’ Said Mike swallowing the last drop of his coffee.

‘This aunt lived in a village called Nettlestead it's close to the River Medway in Kent. Story goes that there was a bridge, this bridge once crossed over to a small island in the river. It’s said to reappear every November. The coincidence with the Scottish story, is that a man, a monk throws a bound and gagged girl into the river. If you think my aunt made up that story, go on the Internet. I did many years later, I was quite surprised to see it mentioned. Just Google in Nettlestead bridge not forgetting the ghostly monk bit, should you be interested, that's about it. Oh there's just one more reply that you might find amusing if nothing else.’ ‘Go on,’ replied Mike putting down the letter that had aroused his interest. ‘It’s from someone who had just bought himself a mobile phone which of course had a camera, except this camera was exceptional, that it could more or less see in the dark. Anyhow to cut a long story short, this person went into an unlit room to see if the camera could really do what it claimed. Only much to his surprise, not only could this would be photographer see the room reasonably clearly, but was able to see that there was some kind of apparition in the room too. I'm not too sure if that is something we’re looking for, but I imagine it gave the owner of this mobile something of a shock. What did occur to me when I came across this letter that there are many similar such occurrences that you can find on the Internet. My guess if you do not want to be in for a surprise of that variety, be careful where you point your camera should you want to take photographs in dimly lit places. There’s a photograph too, it appears to be of a woman in a long gossamery type of white dress.’ Mike grinned when he saw the photograph that Sue was holding up, ‘I guess it would fit in somewhere or other, put it in your possible to use file.’ ‘Anyhow to get back to this Mr Simpson. I certainly think we should checkout his story further. As you just said it certainly has a ring of truth, not to be missed I would say.’ ‘You're right, it certainly seems like one we should not overlook,’ said Mike looking at the envelope, ‘it looks like he lives on the outskirts of Glasgow. Okay no time like the present, let's be positive about this, yep let's make a start, this Mr err. Simpson was it?’ Yes, you got it’ replied Sue. ‘When?’ ‘What you had better do, is to give him a call as soon as you can, and with luck

you can be up there on Monday. And the Cosmos travel department can make all the necessary arrangements for you. Before they disappear for the day. Sorry to be a bit speedy about this. I know that we got about three months to get this show on the road. And that is really no time at all. So let's not hang about. The sooner you get up there, the better. Take that digital camera of yours, to get a few shots of the other houses in the street. My guess is that the houses will be pretty well identical to each other, and the pics you take, we give to our art department, with a bit of jiggery-pokery, plus the aid of Jim and his Photoshopping skills, make the non-existent corner house reappear in some kind of subtle way. As our friend Simpson described in his letter. And if all goes well, shooting can start very soon after that. I’m looking at something like a 10 day turn around, that would just about give time for the crew to get their breath back, and reorganise. And with luck, be ready for the next shoot after that. So with those proverbial crossed fingers we mention not so long ago. And let's hope Mr Simpson is affable to nationwide exposure and his 15 minutes of fame. Apart from that, tell him there will be a substantial financial reward for his troubles. Which normally does the trick. So like I said, get yourself up there.’

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Mike was now under full steam, going from being rather lethargic earlier on, to hands on, and let’s get this thing working attitude. A completely different side of Mike that Sue had been oblivious too, until now. ‘Have you had any thoughts, regarding an actress for the part of the mysterious apparition girl yet Mike? And while you’re at it, who will the presenter be?’ ‘As yet no, but I'm sure that will come up with someone, more than likely during one of those breakfast committee meetings that I have to go through. And no doubt will be discussed at length. Though my idea for the presenter is that the actor who played the part in our version of the X-Files, he will be somewhat older now, but that's good. What I'm going for is a sort of re-enactment. Like that TV series where they have what looks like a real life crime reconstruction. Marry it all up, and our viewers will not be able to take their eyes off the box, or what ever they call these widescreen wonders these days. And if I dare say it, send our ratings out of sight.’

‘I would say that your idea of a re-enactment aspect is good,’ said Sue. ‘You hardly have to be a fan of Harry Potter movies and the digital enhancement that goes with it. To make everything believable, and completely lifelike. Or should I say in our case, phantom like.’ ‘Now here's the downside to all this,’ turning away from the computer screen once more to face Sue. ‘Just this, in case you had forgotten, that we have to find another eight or ten more stories with the same ring of authenticity, and with luck we will really be on our way.’ ‘If only my ears were deceiving me as to what you have just said. But I guess you're only too right. Well as you can see from the letters in front of us, I'm sure we can pluck out that number of individuals, who for the moment are hidden away. Together with some foraging around from those I thought were in the realms of possibility.’ Mike’s quick reply was, ‘let's hope your lunch comes up to expectations.’ Now looking somewhat a little more thoughtful. Going on to say, ‘just before some phone call interrupted me. I was going to ask you. From what I , you had said that you were brought up in a rather old country house. And me thinking, could it be haunted? Sorry if that sounds a bit silly, but that's the kind of thing that does tend to flash through your mind when old houses are mentioned. In other words, have you had yourself, any unearthly experiences? Or anything of that nature?’ While looking expectantly, if not hopefully at Sue. ‘Not really, but I suppose that was quite intuitive of you,’ was Sue’s thoughtful reply. ‘I know I said to you the other day and we both seem to come to the same conclusion. That these strange experiences that's we seem to be inundated with, are just a bit of nonsense. But as I find myself thinking more deeply into this... what shall I say okay, these... Mystical events, for want of a better word and I suppose giving a little more thought overall, is just this and make what you will of it the country house you mention as you know was where I was brought up. There is a village called Lacock, it's really beautiful. As you might well see in a postcard typifying England. The National Trust looks after it. I believe that it dates back to the 13th century. Quite a few movies get made there, when they want that oldie world feeling. Harry Potter was one among many. Anyhow apart from that, there’s a pub called the “Sign of the Angel” that actually s the fact that it has a resident ghost. An elderly lady so they say. Not only that, if you have a click on YouTube, I believe if you type in Lacock churchyard ghost.

You will come across a tourist making a video of the village. Towards the end of the video, he visits the local church yard. As you can imagine there are lots of very old graves. And much to his surprise while making this video, he see’s what appears to be a ghost rising out of one of the graves. I’ve seen the video myself, and you cannot deny that he has certainly has something out of the ordinary on this video. It's easy to believe all this, if you saw the village. Though as far as things of that nature go... and what’s more, at my home I reckon it borders on, as I just mentioned, the mystical, for want of a better word’ ‘And what might that be?’ said a more than piqued Mike. ‘We had a gardener who had been with us since before I was born. He died last year, I guess he was quite old. Anyhow we have got a couple of dogs. And if the dogs were in the kitchen at midday they would start howling. This is the strange bit. It was always at the same time as when the gardener used to walk past the kitchen window for his lunch. The dogs would make such a frightful row, that my mother would have to make sure that the dogs were not in the kitchen around midday. The last time I went to visit for a weekend. I was in the kitchen, as were the dogs. They had been forgotten about due to my arrival. Yes you guessed it, they started howling as the clock struck twelve. Does that count?’ ‘Not only does it count, we could use it.’ Said Mike enthusiastically. ‘Would your mum go along with us cluttering up the kitchen, and getting herself on TV. It does not take much visualisation on my part to know that it would make a very good episode.’ ‘Oh she will adore it, she would at least have something to boast about during her interminable boring bridge parties. And as far as my dad goes, it would be very unlikely he would even notice that there was anything out of the ordinary going on in the kitchen. Even if they were filming a Stephen Spielberg epic.’ ‘Okay that's it.’ said Mike. ‘All you got to do now, is to break the news to your mum that she is number two on the list. Not only that, just think of the time I will save by not having you going to scout out the location. What could be better?’ Mike grinned. And looking far happier than he had done for quite some while. ‘This village of yours, Lacock I believe you called it.’ ‘Actually Lacock, is pronounced as Laycock, nearly every one gets it wrong. Now you know.’

‘Got it.’ Said Mike now giving Sue’s village the correct pronunciation. ‘As I was saying. Your place could well be the kind of location to begin the series. We’ve already got your barking dogs. Plus the ghost of the old lady that you mentioned. Couldn't be better, and the pub sounds like a good place to stay when shooting is under way.’ ‘And there was me.’ said Sue, ‘thinking I could have a few days at home checking out my own place to see if it's good enough location for you. But I can see you saw through that one, before I could even put it into action. Oh well next time should I ever get lucky again.’ Sue went on to say, ‘what about yourself Mike? Have the realms of the supernatural ever encircled you? Don't be shy Mike.’ Sue grinned. ‘Out with it!’ ‘Putting me on the spot are you?’ said Mike looking somewhat surprised. ‘Yes, why not.’ Sue urged. ‘Well come to think of it there was one such incident, funny enough. I've hardly given any credence to it until now really. What with your urging, I suppose...’ ‘Well go on, I’m all ears.’ ‘Okay give me a chance. I'm the world’s number one sceptic, ? Here's the tale, and don't laugh. Not only that, don't you dare tell anybody else. Just between you and me, right.’ Sue put on what she imagined was her encouraging smile. That she had used many a time during her journalistic life. To get a rather hesitant Mike to spin his story. It usually did the trick. ‘I promise, I won’t tell a soul.’ Said Sue, as she nodded her head to his request. Mike with pursed lip, while looking out the window at the far end of the office started to recall the now distant memory. ‘I was on a new ad project with a fellow creative director. I guess we were about halfway through it. And much to everybody's surprise, and certainly mine, he died. I think he liked his wine and ciggies too much, but that's another story. Well it was about three months after his sudden demise. I had a habit of going into a small park close to the agency to get away from telephones and all the other noise that goes on around you. It helps to clear my mind to think up yet another idea for some client. And as it was during the working week, the park was pretty well deserted, and I had a

choice of which park bench I could sit on. So I chose to sit on this one particular bench, and on the bench beside me as I sat down was a magazine that someone had left behind. At that very moment as I was about to pick it up, there was a slight gust of wind. That blew open the magazine. It opened at a double page spread of the last ment that we had created together, a coincidence? Later I found out it was exactly three months to the day. Not only that it was about the same time of the day when he had died. There you have it. Make what you like of it. I certainly can't.’ ‘That's some story Mike, I'm impressed. A coincidence you thought? Well that’s natural enough. But you certainly have to think of the odds of that happening. If nothing else, it gives you food for thought. But you can't stop yourself thinking, that this friend of yours was saying. Hey I'm still around, but I'm in another dimension perhaps. You know what I'm thinking.’ Said Sue pointing her finger at Mike. ‘I have a good feeling as to what you're about to say. Good, might not be the right word. You're thinking that it might be a good idea to include my little encounter shall I call it, in our forthcoming programme.’ ‘Well you've got to it it's quite a good idea and I'm sure that somehow or other we can work it that you will not have to appear personally. Should that happen to be your main concern.’ ‘I liked what you're saying, I suppose if I'm honest. The one thing that has struck me, which is a strange thing in itself you could say.’ While looking thoughtfully at Sue. ‘That in the short time we have been on this project, and that's not including the adverts that were placed around the country. And just in our office alone. We have come across with a few odd happenings. While not trying too hard. Which is also a surprise to me. And if I might include you in this thinking. That as a couple of cynics, are we actually starting to believe in all of this? As you seem to think, it's all more than just a coincidence. Or are we, if I may say we, getting somewhat carried away?’ As Sue leaned across her desk to pick the buzzing phone, said to Mike before lifting the receiver. ‘You my hero sceptic, could it be really true that you yourself are beginning to drown in this sudden torrent of the unexplainable?’ ‘Tell them I'll be right out.’

As Sue put the phone down Mike said, ‘you have got to give it to me, that at least I have an open mind. Well, that's what I like to think.’ Sue did not give Mike the courtesy of a reply, just saying, ‘my lunch date is here, got to go. It seems he has a friend with him, a girl. I imagine, that she is the one in the story, by what he has told me so far.’ ‘More than likely his girlfriend doesn't trust you with him,’ grinned Mike.’ Ignoring Mike’s comment with a smile saying. ‘I’ll tell you all about it after lunch.’ Mike returning Sue’s smile replied, ‘have a good one.’ ‘Will you be going to your usual Friday hang out for lunch?’ Sue said giving Mike a knowing look. ‘If you mean the French pub, yes it’s always a good boozy hang out on Fridays, apart from getting to chat and reminisce to my old mates about that world I left behind. And all that nonsense.’ ‘You never did get to tell me why it's called The French.’ ‘Tell you after lunch,’ and Mike was out of the conference room door before Sue could reply. The word lunch was all she needed to turn her back on the conference room table piled high with letters of the inexplicable, and the bewildering world that many of the writers had encountered. It was not without some trepidation, together with little doubt that in Sue’s mind that this lunch would be something else indeed. And as yet unable to dissipate a feeling of uncertainty. Unaware for the moment, that this forthcoming lunch had the ability to overwhelm her in an imperceptible shroud of unreality. Though these far reaching consequences had yet to be realised, by Sue or by anyone else at this juncture in time.

Chapter 3

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, Mike was out of the building and into Wardour Street at a fast pace. As there was always an ongoing worry in the back of his mind that someone would try to slow his progress, more than likely by one of the suits asking some idiot question or other, forcing him to return. But now he was in the clear and the “French” was getting closer by the second. Finally making his way through those who were drinking outside the pub with cigarettes in hand, and balancing a glass in the other. Through the ever open door he went, making or trying to make a beeline through the crush of fellow drinkers to the bar. As someone said rather loudly, ‘here he is, Mr Supernatural himself, seen any ghost lately Mike?’ Mike immediately wished he had kept his mouth shut, but he knew it was his own fault for having opened his mouth in the first place. Loose talk, after two or three glasses of wine too many, at a prior time. And telling his old colleagues from advertising, a little too much of what he was working on. ‘Not since I saw you trying to walk through a glass door at that restaurant if you . Now if you could turnaround and get me a glass of a decent red, I'm sure the barman will oblige you. I might well give you an update of the things that go bump in the night.’ For Mike, Friday was just beginning. Sue shutting the office door behind her made her way first to the floor’s cloakroom. To generally check herself out and powder her nose. To try and look as a personal assistant come producer should look. On getting to the reception area the receptionist smiled at Sue, and giving a nod in the direction of the two visitors who were sitting under a couple of award plaques that were hanging on a chocolate brown wall behind them. Sue had an immediate recollection of the wine bar where they had first met. At the time she had not realised how beautiful Bob’s acquaintance really was. If somebody had asked her to describe her, she would more than likely say. Think of a heroine out of a comic book. Really blonde and beautiful, all this together with a faint dusting of freckles, or as Mike might say, drop dead beautiful. Sue was in no doubt that had Mike not slipped out from the conference room via the production department so quickly, instead of going through the reception. His eyes would have arrested on Jackie, he would have quickly made up some story as to why his presence at lunch was a

good idea. Sue could not help herself but think, that if this vision of beauty, really had a story to tell, and would be happy to appear in front of the cameras. She alone could possibly make the programme work. It would help no end. Both stood up in unison as Sue entered the reception. ‘It would seem that you have found us? Without too much trouble I trust.’ ‘Yes, you were right, it was easy we took the tube to Oxford Circus, It was just a case of walking along Oxford Street, just as you said, no problem.’ ‘I guess it must’ve been some time ago now when we first met due to that awful virus thing, I imagine you’ve not been affected.’ Sue said extending her hand to them as she crossed over the reception area to where they had been sitting, ‘how are you both?’ ‘Oh great, and untouched but that virus, and yourself ?’ Said Bob. ‘Let me introduce you to Jackie, Jackie Trent.’ ‘I’m glad you're able to come along too.’Said a smiling Sue. ‘Well with this new job I have, I’ve hardly had any time to think how well I am. But yes, I'm fine thanks. I guess I’ll be right in saying, that you're feeling a little hungry after your journey. I’m sure you have no objection to some lunch courtesy of Cosmos. So let's get out of this place, I've got a table booked at a nearby restaurant, it’s Italian.’ ‘That sounds really good we're both pasta lovers.’ Said Bob, with Jackie nodding her head in agreement. ‘Hope you don't mind me coming along too. As I know Bob said it was only him at the time when he ed you. But Bob convinced me to come along also, and I guess that's not such a bad idea. Telling me, it would be far better that these experiences I’ve been having were directly from me, rather than the other way around.’ Sue could not help but notice a subtle change in Jackie's voice, that there was an underlying hint of stress. Saying with reinsuring smile, ‘of course not, let's go.’ Moments later they were into the swell of Soho’s milling lunchtime throng. The weather was still holding on to its promise of sunshine, and it would seem that everyone on the street had discarded their heavier winter clothing for this sunny

springtime lunchtime hour. For Sue it was always a joy every time she came a part of this lunchtime fray, that truly affirmed she was really back once more to London's West End, especially Soho. Unlike where most of the national newspapers had now found themselves. They could never regain that atmosphere they had enjoyed so much during their halcyon days of Fleet Street. And Soho was even better. This was certainly the neighbourhood to be in, as far as food was concerned. It had everything from kebabs to the best of Italian. Not forgetting that there was always pub food. It was only a few minutes walk, a walk that took a little longer, than what it would have done earlier in the morning. Sidestepping through the jostling lunchtime crowd. Eventually getting to push open the glass doors of the restaurant. Where, if by some magic they had been transferred into the very heart of Rome. With the welcoming sound of “Buona giorno” together with the mouthwatering aromas, that only an Italian kitchen can give. ‘So nice to see you again.’ Said a smiling waiter. ‘Please, please this way, a drink first perhaps?’ While the waiter broke off his welcome for a split second. Sue quickly said, smiling. ‘I guess we'll go straight to our table.’ Both Bob and Jackie looked around in somewhat amazement at the total ambience of the place. With Bob going on to say. ‘The one thing about an Italian restaurant, they really do have that knack, like nobody else of making you feel like a long lost rich uncle.’ As they sat down around the table. ‘Well I certainly agree with you there, nothing quite like it.’ Sue acknowledged. ‘Not only that, the food here is really something else, absolutely delicious. How about an aperitif while we look at the menu. I'm going to have a Campari soda. How about you Jackie?’ ‘Yes, I'll have that too.’ ‘Campari, perfect that should waken my taste buds somewhat, count me in too,’ replied Bob. ‘Are you living in London Jackie?’ ‘At the moment I'm down from Cambridge. I guess I’ve been rather lucky, as I managed to get a scholarship which certainly eased any financial burden. It’s my first term there.’

Sue, slightly taken back, and almost opening her mouth in astonishment. At the same time onishing herself not to prejudge people. While thinking she would have put a whole monthly salary that Jackie would have said “model.” If there was ever a face waiting to adorn the cover of Vogue this surely must be it. How wrong in Mike’s thinking that I might be competition, mused Sue. ‘What are you doing there?’ Hoping that the surprise in her voice went unnoticed. ‘Trying for a degree in advanced mathematics. After that something to do with astrophysics. I've always had a thing about the stars, and space as far back as I can .’ Sue for a moment was lost for words, found herself almost struggling what to say next, ‘it must have been like in a dream come true for you, winning a place at Cambridge.’ ‘Yes, I was one of the lucky ones, I managed to get a scholarship, otherwise it might have been a little difficult financially. My father is a vicar, as you know they’re not the highest paid people in the world.’ Brains and beauty, reinforcing Sue’s earlier thoughts on how stunning she would look on TV. ‘Makes my world seem insignificant.’ Was all she could thing to say, in the way of a reply. While still trying to grasp where all this was going to lead. And was now even more than curious on how Jackie would relate her story. ‘Not at all, I'm sure you love your job, that's what really counts.’ ‘Yes you’re right, you put it all into perspective. And we’re both doing something that we really enjoy.’ Said Sue, gradually feeling more relaxed, after the unexpected perception of Jackie’s Cambridge revelation. ‘Let's order.’ said Sue spying a waiter looking in their direction. With orders completed, Bob with a substantial Lasagna. While Jackie and Sue went with salad and risotto. The waiter had filled their glasses with refreshingly cold sparkling white wine. ‘I think a toast to the unknown would be in order.’ Said a smiling Sue. ‘The unknown.’ Sue’s two guests replied clinking glasses. ‘You were saying, that even when you were younger you always had a thing for

space and the stars.’ ‘Almost since I can , my mum used to get worried that I didn't have some poster of some current pop star on my bedroom wall. It was a poster of Einstein instead. But when they started to see my maths results, that I had managed to get all A’s. My parents came to the collusion that perhaps I was in fact gifted in that direction.’ And that your father was a vicar you were saying?’ ‘Oh dad, yes he was very ive, his vicarage is in a small Dorset village. He always has some quite radical ideas. You could say, or as he liked to say. That his rather controversial sermons certainly helped to keep many of his parishioners attending on Sundays. As they are never quite sure what slant one of his sermons would take, they really appreciated that.You could say that he was a bit of an eccentric clergyman. He always thought that Darwin was way off the mark. That life had somehow crawled out of some primeval swamp, that always got him going. But it was not a particularly a religious point of view he would take. He always said that the chance of that happening was rather like throwing a handful of iron filings into a swamp. And hoping that sometime in the future that something like a bright red Ferrari would manifest itself. Which I always felt was quite a good analogy. You can also say that he had a very dry sense of humour. He certainly has the knack of getting people to listen. Another one would be telling his congregation, that your body is the life system for your soul. Which if you keep it in good order, together with your mind. It would get you to your final destination in reasonable serenity. That certainly got their attention. And gave most of them something to argue over during the week. He was always quite refreshing. And his rather unusual perspective on things religious helped him to keep the pews reasonably full.’ Sue not being all that religious minded, found herself somewhat unsure as for a suitable reply. Going on to say, ‘your dad, apart from being a vicar sounds a very interesting man. I’m impressed with him going against the so-called established viewpoints, of where we all come from. Nothing like a bit of controversy to get people talking, and as you said filling the pews. No mean feat these days.’ ‘Yes, I think what you say is completely correct. Not only that he can always make people laugh, which is exactly what you want for holding peoples attention. I often think to myself if he wasn't a vicar, he would never have any

trouble holding his own as a stand-up comedian.’ ‘You've almost convinced me to attend one of his congregation on a Sunday.’ Turning to Bob, ‘Sorry I'm almost forgetting about you.’ Bob trying to swallow a mouth full of lasagna to reply. Till then Bob’s contribution to the conversation had not been so much in the way of many words except for, delicious mmm, so good, as he munched his way through his fast disappearing lasagna. Finally being able to say, ‘don't worry about me, this food is so good I almost forgot you were there. I heard more or less what Jackie was saying about her dad. I met him a couple of times, he certainly does not push religion down your throat, but as Jackie said his conversations are certainly immensely interesting. And I think he enjoys no end of poking fun at some pretentious so-called scientific fact. He certainly made me rethink many a notion that I previously have gone along with. He always backs up any statement he makes with a logical argument. Rather than a religious perspective. What sticks in my mind, and I guess I thought it was funny at the time. He said to me that being a vicar of the church was a bit like running an airline. And to think of religions like airlines competing for engers, seeing that they believed they were in charge of your souls. He said that he felt, as far as he was concerned that it was his responsible to see that you arrived at your journey's end in good shape. He had this knack of putting a mental picture over to the congregation, of something they can easily identify with. So he always had a good audience or I should say, congregation.’ ‘Bob paints a pretty good picture of my father.’ Turning to Sue to say. ‘I guess by now you have a pretty good idea of my background. And now you must be wondering what these experiences I've been having? That Bob mentioned on his phone call to you. And I suppose it was fortunate that you might be in the right place to shed some light on this rather quirky subject. I didn't really want to appear on TV. Though Bob mentioned it might help with my general lack of finance. So I guess it didn’t take much to persuade me to come into the open with the strange occurrences that have been happening to me.’ ‘I’m not sure if I'm the right person to have much of an understanding, as to what I guess you are about to tell me. But what has happened to me since I've had this job concerning people who have had strange and unusual experiences for a forthcoming TV programme I’m involved with. I have to say at first, it was not something I took too seriously. But over the last few weeks, I'm finding that

I’m having to change my opinions. And now you with the experiences you yourself have been having, I feel sure you’re not the kind of person, to make up any kind of frivolous happenings. And giving me even further credence, that this is a subject that perhaps in the past has been taken too lightly. But now I find myself not being so self assured, or at least I'm now more open-minded.’ It was a few seconds that past before anybody spoke, as Sue’s guests digested Sue’s heartfelt feelings. ‘A little more wine anybody.’ Said Sue breaking the hush that had encomed the table. ‘Not for me.’ said Jackie, ‘I'm sure Bob will, I know.’ ‘You make me sound like an alcoholic. And it's not everyday that I’ve had such a wonderful lunch and not forgetting the wine that went with it.’ ‘Just kidding you.’ said a smiling Jackie. ‘Enjoy it.’ Jackie smile quickly evaporated into a look of more seriousness. ‘What I’m about to say, and I know you only have my word for it. But with a father like mine, I've always been brought up, only to tell the truth. I don't know if Bob mentioned during that phone conversation. It’s all about some very intense dreams I've had recently.’ ‘Go on, Bob did mention it to me, that it was something about your dreams.’ At the same time realising that her earlier remark about a dream coming true, might not have been appropriate. ‘Take your time, I'm sure what you are going to tell me will certainly hold my attention.’ A sobering look clouded Jackie’s face as she started to relate her story. ‘I kept on having this re-occurring dream, at first I didn't think too much about it. Even feeling a little annoyed that it was so repetitive. But when during these dreams I was getting the solution to some very complex mathematical problems. It occurred to me at that point, this was not to say at the very least, hardly normal. These kind of thing just don't happen. I tried to tell myself. Only for me they did. You might well say, how did I know that these dreams were any way different from what anybody might have had? It was when my tutor, he was not my normal tutor, had set me a very complicated mathematical problem. That till now, no one in the field of advanced mathematics had arrived at a final answer. Except I was able to write out the answer with ease. And I knew only too well, how I had arrived at the solution. Yes, of course it was those dreams. I didn't know what to think. My tutor looked dumbfounded, when I showed him my first

calculations. I thought he would say something, but he just looked at me. I had the feeling he did not quite know what to say. I guess he must have been thinking that it would be better for him to leave it to my usual tutor. I expect what you are thinking, is what I thought. It had something to do with that poster of Einstein I told you about. There was certainly a longish grey haired man very prominent in the dreams. Guiding me on how to tackle the question. When that tutor confirmed my findings, I did not know what to really think. I was not actually scared, but more afraid of sounding silly. Though I could have solved some more mathematical conundrums, I didn't. I'm still a little bit worried what my regular tutor might have to say, when I next have a tutorial with him. But unfortunately it didn't stop there. My dreams went on, though not every night. Sometimes more than a couple of weeks would go by. Though by that time I would have almost forgotten about them. Except it would all begin all over again. It was around about that time I mention to what was happening to me to Bob, and here I am telling you the whole story. As I said it would all begin all over again.’Jackie hesitated for a moment, Sue noticed that her hands were nervously twisting her table napkin. Sue smiled encouragingly across the table to Jackie, softly saying ‘go on.’ ‘It wasn't so much the mathematical solutions I was being given, it was something else that I found very disturbing. There was this girl who I thought was me, but somehow or other I knew it was not. She appeared to be dressed as someone might have been perhaps half a century ago or more. I had this overwhelming feeling at the time that she wanted to relate something of importance to me. A look of sadness would come over her face as she opened her mouth to speak. And I guess that was when I woke up, none the wiser. But with a feeling of profound unsettledness. I knew now that I could not keep these bewildering dreams to myself. So perhaps now you understand why I felt it was imperative for me to share and perhaps find some peace of mind. I hope that I'm not sounding too melodramatic.’ Jackie’s voice was slowly fading away along with faraway look in her eyes. ‘But this is how I recall those dreams.’ It was with a feeling of empathy that Sue went on to say, ‘I can certainly understand that.’ Looking across to Bob, only to see the concern on his face that she felt herself. It was as though as if a malignant cloud had ed over them. Sue reached across the table and gently touched Jackie's hand, ‘try and eat some more of your food. You have told me more than enough, and I certainly believe in what you have said. Not only that, if at first I seemed hesitant, you have made

it abundantly clear to me. That what is happening to you, must be taken very seriously.’ Sue knew for the moment that this was not the time to go on about the TV production that she hoped that Jackie would be part of. But went on to say instead, ‘surely there must be some kind of answer, for what you are experiencing.’ Jackie reached for her wine, slowly taking it up to her lips, hesitating and putting the glass back on the table, as a few seconds elapsed. Neither Sue nor Bob wanted to break the spell, they could see that Jackie was in some kind of conflict to what she wanted to say. Suddenly it was as if this enveloping tension that was hanging over Jackie evaporated, as if it had never been there in the first place. And had stepped back from another dimension into the more solid world of an Italian restaurant in the heart of Soho. ‘Sorry I hadn't realised that I had become so intense. Being able to tell you my story to you has certainly made me feel a whole lot better now. With what's been happening to me over the last few weeks. Thank you for being so ive. It has really helped me.’ ‘How about some coffee a cappuccino, I know in Italy that it’s not done to drink cappuccino after ten thirty in the morning. But that's not my problem, and here it is delicious... Jackie?’ ‘Please, that would be good.’ ‘Bob.’ ‘I’ll go along with the Italians, and have an Espresso.’ As their cups were being refilled, Sue said to Bob, ‘I must really apologise to you again, I've hardly said a word to you.’ ‘No need for an apology, hearing Jackie repeat her story to you was even more gripping than when Jackie first told me of her concerns.’ ‘If I correctly, when I first met you in that wine bar, you said something about photography.’ ‘Yes that's right, I'm an advertising photographer at the moment, I'm trying to get into the world of digital video. I still take stills. Though that world, is not what it used to be with the onset of digital photography. Now everybody thinks they can be a professional photographer. What I had learned when it was all rolls of film,

has now gone completely out of the window. When did you last see anybody use a roll film camera? All you need now, apart from the camera is a computer, especially for video.’ Sue had the feeling that Bob was feeling slightly sorry for himself. ‘You should speak to my boss Mike. Before he came to work for Cosmos, he was the creative director of an advertising agency. He should be able to help you.’ ‘That's very kind of you. I will most certainly get round to doing that, it would be very helpful.’ Bob decided that just listening was his roll, as he knew that Jackie was certainly the centre of attention. Over coffee, Sue brought the conversation back to more mundane subjects. And could not help wondering if Cambridge's footlight drama club had ever approached her, and was told that they had, but had declined, though maybe later when she felt more settled. And finally wondering to herself, what her next move should be, after what she had been told. What seemed uppermost in her mind was a question of divided loyalty. At the same time she was beginning to feel responsible for Jackie. Only knowing too well that when Jackie told her story on TV, it would be on her conscience. It was the possibility of unacceptable people out there trying to exploit, and take advantage of her. Not only that the revelations which would come to light, could have far reaching consequences. Even to turn Jackie's world upside down. It was all coming very personal. And was beginning to feel as if she was going into free fall, with the ground nowhere in sight. To think it was only this morning saying to Mike, now ing the exact words only too well. “The unknown could be fun.” The fun element was rapidly beginning to disappear. The loyalty to the programme for Sue was a quandary, that had to be solved. ‘ ‘More coffee Jackie, Bob?’ Before they could reply the hovering waiter said, ‘two more cappuccinos and uno espresso straight away.’ Now with more coffee arriving Sue hesitantly said. ‘Jackie I don't want you to make any wrong decisions. What you have just told me was far more amazing and incredible than I could have ever possibly imagined.’ Sue was thinking, that what she was about to suggest would go someway to soothe her own conscience. ‘Maybe what we should do is to downplay what you have experienced, and just

let the viewers decide. I'm sure your kind of mathematics is way over the heads of most viewers anyhow.’ Jackie looking over the rim of her coffee cup, now looking far happier than when she had been telling her story in the first place. Went on to say, ‘I was so worried at first, that I thought I might have been bringing you all on a bit of a wild goose chase. I suppose in my own mind, I did not want to think what had being happening to me was actually true, but as you might well understand that road is not exactly open to me. A truth I could’ve done well without.’ ‘No of course not.’ was Sue’s quick reply. ‘I think it needed a lot of courage to come out with your story. It could not have been easy. At least sharing your story you are not alone any more.’ ‘Yes you are right.’ Said Jackie,’ ‘it had been inconceivable at the time of the dreams. To even think of the possible repercussions they could cause. It wasn't as though I just wanted to get on TV. Though I guess Bob mentioning money certainly helped me to decide in that direction. I came to the conclusion that I was shrinking away from talking to anybody. But I knew that Bob would be ive. It was when I had bumped into Bob sometime back, and he saw that I was not my usual cheerful self. And got me to open up to what was troubling me. Which as you see, has led me to here. But there is one thing I cannot get out of my mind is this. Why me?’ Once again Sue sensing her discomfort, saw the confusion that Jackie had been going through resurface. Hastily going on to say, ‘try not to worry, I'm right behind you. You can call me any time day or night.’ ‘I know you must have thought at first, I was some kind of mixed up student. But now I know I have your . And I'm also thankful for the of Bob. Bob and myself go back a long time since we were kids. We both lived in the same village at one time, we always get to see each other when I come down from Cambridge, should he be around. As I said, he gave me the courage to tell you all this. And I guess at the back of my mind, I was a little worried that I might be made fun of. But I still can't help but think, it's all a bit stupid. If it wasn't for those calculations...’ As Jackie's voice trailed off. Sue knew that Jackie was now realising that her life was moving along into uncharted waters. At the same time, Sue was hoping that

it would not engulf her entirely. What intrigued Sue more than anything, was why was this happening? It was almost beyond belief. Was there any reason for all this mathematical knowledge that Jackie had been given, and was too scared to use. And the words that Jackie had just said, echoed through Sue’s subconscious, “Why me?” Unable to think of a suitable reply she beckoned to the waiter in order to pay the bill. ‘Thanks for listening to me, and you’ve made me feel a little more relaxed, to what I’ve been feeling lately’ Jackie said, as Sue paid the waiter. ‘And thanks for that delicious lunch.’ Bob replied.

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Sue, having guided them back to Oxford Street and pausing as she watched them being gradually swallowed up by the crowds that were meandering along the pavements of Oxford Street before turning herself on heel to find her own way slowly back to Wardour Street and Cosmos. Her mind was swimming with the conversations of the lunch that had such dramatic overtones. Had it been anybody else who would have had the nerve to relate such a story, she would have no doubt have said, you've got to be kidding, kind of reply. But it was the sincerity that Jackie had expressed relating the story of her dreams, and the effect it had on her general demeanour during lunch. Sue quickly came to the assumption that this was no neurotic episode from an unbalanced person, it was all very truthful to be taken with a certain degree of seriousness. A story that Sue was beginning to realise as she had earlier could indeed have far reaching consequences, except of course it was only a dream, everybody had dreams, a psychiatrist would more than likely tell you they were just reflection of every day events. But there were other variety of dreams that were far more difficult to make any kind of sense what so ever, together with a realism that was so real at the same time over shadowed by the surreal. From where did these other realities manifest themselves from? With dream like suddenness her thoughtful meandering abruptly ended as she approached the glass fronted offices of Cosmos as they came into view and shattered any further deliberations. As well as the mirror image of herself as she pushed against the revolving glass doors.

Sue came to the conclusion that it was mixed emotions that was clouding her judgement. Making it all the more difficult to think of any comprehensible answer, when it came to Mike asking how did the lunch go. After all they were only looking for just one story. The mathematical dream would go down fine, no need to mention that there was more to it. As she entered the Cosmos building there was still more than hundred and one thoughts flying through her head. Uppermost was how was she going to play this. She's certainly knew she owed some kind of loyalty to Mike. Not forgetting the programme itself. In all her journalistic experiences she had never felt this involved. Always being able to keep a professional arm length distance, in whatever she was tackling. But this... information going public, she knew without a doubt it was not going to be so easy, without some serious thought. Mathematics was certainly not one of her strong subjects. Being lucky even to achieve a B, she ed during her academic days. Though for someone like Jackie, when they reached these nether regions, the impact could be colossal. Most people would have some knowledge of Einstein's work before his death, leaving the world with atomic energy. Jackie’s life could be put in danger, from fanatical dictators, to religious fanaticism. To pretty well every shade between. Who would go to any length what so ever, to seize such a prize. When she finally walked into the office. Mike, much to Sue’s surprise was actually back. There he was reclining on the guests sofa that he had thoughtfully put close to his part of the office for such occasions. She had been right, it was more for his Friday afternoon comfort than any guest. It was obvious that the English long weekend. Which usually began with the infamous Friday lunch, liquid or otherwise. For Mike, it had yet to begin. ‘The French living up to its well won Friday lunch reputation I would imagine?’ Asked Sue looking down at the stretched out Mike, while not exactly expecting a reply. ‘You could say that.’ Was Mike short mumbled reply. Suddenly swinging his legs back onto the floor. Going from a comatose look from only moments ago. To a more animated one, looked up at Sue saying, you asked how my favourite watering hole got its name? It would seem that the popular answer is that it was a hangout for the French expats, during the Second World War. Some say that even General De Gaulle was also known to give the place his patronage. So now you know. Until a few years back, its old name was the York Minster. Yes that was the French. But in my younger days during the seventies, there was a place

I’ll shall never forget. It was a drinking club, called The Colony, but to regulars, Muriels. It was not far from the French. Your first reaction to the place, should it be your first time, would most likely not have been too favourable.’ ‘Why was that?’ Said Sue, more than curious about Mike’s earlier reminiscences. ‘It was not so much that it was exceedingly scruffy, it was on the first floor, to get to it you had to climb up a rather smelly staircase The place looked as if it had been hastily set up in the early fifties, and had not been touched since.’ ‘It sounded absolutely charming.’ Was Sue’s slightly sardonic perception. ‘So it might have seemed, until you realised who your fellow patrons were. When the person who bought you there would perhaps whisper in your ear. See the two arguing at the bar, thats Lucien Freud, and Francis Bacon, two of the worlds most famous painters. The barman once told Bacon, and his actual words were, in what some might call undisguised English. “That he couldn't fucking paint”. Not only that you would quite often see, looking slightly the worst for wear the actor Peter O Toole. You never knew who you might well get to see there. Should you have asked for a slice of lemon in your gin and tonic, you would be told, why are you having dirty rotten stinking fruit bobbing around. Sadly the place no longer exists. But it certainly left you with marvellous memories. My second question is, how did your lunch go?’ ‘How did my lunch go? I hardly know where to begin. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll make a start.’ ‘You look as if you could do with a stiff drink, could that do the trick?’ ‘Thanks for your offer, but no, as I might well fall over. It’s coffee for me.’ ‘Me too, if you'll be so kind , while you're there.’ As coffee was brewing Sue pulled up the other more comfortable guest chair to Mike’s sofa, where he was sprawled out once again. Went back over to the coffee machine, bringing back a couple of cups, hoping they would have a reviving effect. And at last being able to sit down, together with a sigh of relief. ‘Yes you could say it was an interesting lunch and of course the food was delicious as ever. Anyhow let me get to the story proper.’

‘I know little green men came and abducted her and...’ Before Mike got any further into his fantasy, Sue with raised eyebrows silenced his dialogue. ‘Sorry for my excruciating nonsense, please tell all.’ Making herself comfortable and taking a good mouthful of strong coffee.‘To continue,’ said Sue with eyebrows still raised, and Mike suitably silenced. ‘At first I was not expecting too much to be honest.’ When Sue had finished Jackie's of what had been happening to her. Sue went on to relate the effect it was having on Jackie’s demeanour during the lunch. Mike sat up when she is mentioned Jackie's mood. Knowing now, she had Mike’s full attention. ‘Quite some story.’ Was Mike’s first reaction.’This is all quite worrying, finding myself actually going along with what you have just told me. I must to keep my mouth shut when I'm in the pub again. As for sure I’ll never live it down. But for all that, we have certainly got a story that we can put together for our viewers. Find an ancient looking mathematics professor to appear alongside, as you say a very beautiful Cambridge undergraduate. I must say I can't wait to see her...’ ‘Well, if you are a good boy, I'll see what I can do. Just kidding. Anyhow what were you saying?’ ‘Right, give me a second... Yes, put the two together it will give the viewers especially those who have trouble adding up 2+2 something to look at. That brains can be beautiful etcetera together with our yet to be found a living Einstein giving it all credibility. As to what your undergraduate has achieved in her dream world we could give it a classroom setting, or maybe our take on a tutor’s study. Yeah I like the idea. I'll make with production and get things moving, as soon as we know our schedule. That'll give me the weekend to visualise on how it should be. So there we are. We now appear to be underway, and I'm pretty sure other stories will soon surface. So not wishing to overburden my brain any further on a Friday afternoon, I'm off. And with you up in Scotland on Monday, we can relax just a little. See you.’ Was his goodbye, and with a grunt Mike heaved himself off the sofa, and was out of the door. Calm was once again restored to the office with Mike’s departure. Leaving Sue once more with her own thoughts, and making arrangements to get her Scottish

trip underway. And not forgetting to get on the phone to Mr Simpson up in Scotland to confirm the appointment for the coming Monday morning. Sue also decided to call it a day, when the Cosmos travel department confirmed her flight to Glasgow. Giving herself just sufficient time to beat the rush hour. And head off for Paddington Station, which would be the start of a hopefully relaxed weekend, at her family's country seat.

Chapter 4

There has always been ample evidence at hand to tell anybody who cared, that Mike was not around. It would more than likely tell you where Mike might possibly be. Should his battered brown briefcase happened to be found somewhere on the floor, together with an equally worn leather jacket of similar hue, or what some lovers of such a jacket would call stressed. That would be ample proof for the more observant, that he was not too far away. But should his briefcase be there, and the jacket gone, it would more than likely indicate that Mike was at his favourite watering hole. And could possibly be back soon. Sue’s standing orders for anybody who wanted to know of Mike’s whereabouts, having failed to see the evidence was quite simple, “in a meeting.” Mike’s image had changed very little from a couple of decades earlier. When recently one of the trade magazines of the advertising world had noticed this fact. They had featured Mike in one of its current issues. Around the time he had traded himself in from the world of advertising, to wholeheartedly embrace the realm of TV Production. There was also a photograph of Mike in his younger days with his shoulder length hair. As it still is today, or on some rare occasion in a ponytail. When Sue had found this magazine, and seeing the photograph, she could almost swear that it was the same leather jacket. Now the only real difference was that a few strands of grey hair were just beginning to creep in. At the same time looking a bit more on the grizzled side. Sue knew little of his life, only knowing that he had once been married, but no more than that. Though Mike had reached the never land’s of being over 40. He could on occasions still be seen at the “French pub” with a glass of red wine in hand, and some female company more than 20 years his junior. Who would be completely captivated by his presence. As for today, Sue knew without much of a doubt where he would be heading, for what was left of this Friday. To the welcoming doors of the “French” always waiting, if not with open arms, but certainly with a wide open till, to profiteer from his undying patronage. It was not before long when the office door opened and someone from the travel department handed Sue the schedule for her Monday flight to Scotland. Giving it a quick appraisal, before putting it in her bag. Glancing at her watch, saw that she was still in good time to miss the late afternoon rush hour. Though on

Fridays it always seemed to start a little earlier than usual. Gathering up a few more of her possessions that she might need for the weekend, at the same time turning off the computer and coffee machine. Mike who was not nearly as meticulous, had left a scattering of important papers together with the contract waiting for the signature of the man in Scotland. It had totally slipped Mike's mind to mention it to Sue. ‘Glad I saw that.’ She mumbled to herself. That too went into her bag. Opening the door she finally slipped out of the office. It seemed that the whole of Cosmos had acquired a church like silence. The long weekend had started for most. Even the receptionist come secretary could not be found. Who was normally given the privilege of holding the fort, was more than likely somewhere making herself ready to make her own escape on the dot of five thirty. Sue could not help but think, that this was how it must have felt for those who were first to board the Marie Celeste, an eerie silence. This was abruptly shattered as she stepped out into Wardour Street. Looking both ways, wondering whether it was turn right up to Oxford Street, and its madness, then to continue down to Oxford Circus tube station. Or the more civilised route into Noel Street, a far more restful thoroughfare. Which would eventually take you “Liberties”, always another difficulty for the more dedicated shopper not to surrender to its allure. This time successfully managing to resist the very fashionable attractions that were always on display, by the simple method of just adverting her eyes. And to use them instead to safely cross the road, to Argyle Street. This street was dominated by London's famous Palladium theatre. Which was only a few yards from Oxford Circus Underground, to where Sue disappeared into its depths. It was no more than five stops to Paddington Station, where the train would take her to the West Country. She had timed her get away well. In less than five minutes after leaving Paddington underground station she was in the ading mainline one, boarding the waiting train. Finding the seat opposite empty, eased off her shoes, stretched out her legs and put them on the vacant opposite seat . This was the most relaxed she had felt all day, if not all week. Absolute bliss. What a day, what a lunch. The lunch had now been well digested. But that startling story would not be so easily absorbed. If nothing else it was certainly food for thought. That certainly could not be denied. As the whistle blew, the train slowly drew away from the platform. As far as Sue was concerned this was the moment when the weekend started. Just over an hour later the train was drawing into Chippenham Station. Hoping on arrival that it would not be a long wait for a taxi to Lacock. As luck had it the wait was short and was quickly on the way. It was a village that seemed to be locked away in time, of many centuries ago. She did not always inform her

mother on or when she might be arriving. But on this occasion had phoned earlier in the day. What she never did was to give the exact time. Even being a little vague whether it would actually be today, or perhaps Saturday. Her mother knew that it always had to be this way on of her erratic hours that could suddenly overtake any previous arrangements. Sue always had good warning from her mother if on some rare occasion they have decided to go away. This had been found a mutually better way, when Sue had such a fluid work schedule. Especially during her journalistic days. The downside to this arrangement there was no one to meet her at the station, meaning a twenty minutes taxi ride to the village. Sue’s home stood in a small hamlet just on the outskirts of Lacock. Sue halted the taxi halfway down the village street, that was still catching the warm glow of the early evening sun, helped by the lengthening hours of the summer daylight. Before deepening shadows of the evening darkness had their way. As the taxi drove off, Sue began her meandering stroll through the village. This walk bore no comparison to the one along Shaftesbury Avenue, and the alleys of Soho. Though this stroll also stimulated Sue's imagination, contemplating on how this lane through this medieval village must have been many hundreds of year ago, not the smooth tarmac of today, but a track rutted by horses and carts, except for the village dwellings that would have been little different from what they are today. As Sue sauntered past Lacock local pub “The sign of the Angel,” which quickly drew her attention to the job that she was so in the midst of. The pub actually d the fact that it had a ghost, it was said that the ghost was of an old woman who had perhaps lived there before it became a pub. Immediately her thoughts were invaded by a video she has seen on the Internet of the local church, where an apparition of a spirit rising from one of the ancient graves. Sue, when ever she ed that church always looked to the opposite side of the road, not wanting to experienced anything of that nature. The one thing she had no desire to be part of was something she had recently read, were people who had experienced a time slip. Even the thought of that as she walked along gave her the shivers, as it was just too easy to imagine being in place like Lacock with this road actually turning back into the muddy track it had once been.

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This flight of the imagination and the walk more than made up for not being met

at the station. It was a temptation that Sue never missed. With its beguiling calm from the more frantic pace of Soho. Knowing only too well from past experience, from that very first moment of hugs and kisses from her mother, some of Lacock’s soothing calmness would evaporate among the boundless question of the how and what's of London’s life. All this was about to become apparent, as Sue quickened her pace up through the always open gates up the gravel drive way of the house. ‘Darling this is a surprise, we really weren't expecting you until tomorrow.’ Called out Sue’s mother who was on her knees attending the flower beds she was weeding. ‘I didn't know people weeded their garden by moonlight.’ Called out a laughing Sue. As she drew closer to her mother who was about to pull a stubborn weed from the earth. Before Sue could get an answer, her mother had scrambled to her feet, while pulling off her gardening gloves and brushing herself down, strode across the vast expanse of lawn to meet Sue. ‘Yes I suppose it’s getting somewhat dark now, is just this fine weather we're been having make’s you want to get out there and do something, and not waste any of it. Anyhow how are you my darling. Your father will be so happy to see you.’ And before Sue could say anything, a kiss was planted on her lips. ‘Come on let's go inside and surprise him. ‘How is dad?’ ‘As of this moment I would say, pouring himself a whiskey to prepare himself for dinner. Apart from having a whiskey he doesn't usually do much in the way of any kind of preparation. But as we have the Grants coming over for tonight. So I guess he thought he should make some kind of effort to make himself a little more presentable. Hope you don't mind darling, I know you would like to just put your feet up and have a snack in front of the TV. I was feeling a little bit guilty with myself, as I know I should have invited them over sometime back. It seems ages since we were over at their place. Anyhow don't worry, it will be a very casual dinner. No dres, you know how your father hates getting dressed up these days. It’s not really his thing any more. A good bottle of wine and conversation is what he really enjoys.’ ‘No of course not, in fact it would be quite relaxing after the week I’ve just had.

That will be just the two of them I guess? I you saying their son James is now up at Oxford. I used to get on quite well with James. I seem to that the last time I saw him, I had to do a bit of a double take. He’s certainly grown up somewhat. No longer that pimply kid I knew way back. In fact you might even say quite good-looking, I have to remind myself that he’s my cousin. How's he doing at Oxford?’ ‘Well no doubt we'll hear all about James at dinner tonight.’ ‘Can't wait for that.’ Said a less than delighted Sue. Well at least I can bore them with what I'm doing at the moment. Sorry I shouldn't sound so cynical. Forgive me. I'll be all ears and full of enthusiasm for what I'm doing now. While not forgetting to ask about James of course. I guess its been a bit of a trying day.’ ‘I’m sure you've got lots to tell us too. Look, go and find your father, and I'm sure he will give you a glass of something liquid to put you back on your feet. And no doubt you want to go and freshen up.’ Sue made her way from the kitchen where her mother was still making preparations for tonight's dinner, to the living room as it was once called. And without anybody really noticing the subtle change, was now called the TV room, this came about when the old box like TV was substituted for a far larger flat version. On pushing open the door, she was greeted with a loud woof made by two dog with frantically waving tails as Sue knelt down to pat them. ‘Sue, this is a surprise I thought I heard your mother saying tomorrow. Anyhow you're here now, sit down have a drink, but give your old father a kiss first. What will you have? Thought at first it was the Grants arriving early. I imagine your mother did mention it to you that they were coming over to dinner.’ ‘A glass of red will be fine. I better keep off the hard stuff for now, otherwise I'll be falling flat on my face.’ Finally managing to escape with just downing one glass of wine she made her way up to her bedroom. Sitting on her bed and kicking off her shoes. Falling back on what Sue thought was the most comfortable bed she had ever slept on. Staring down at her from the wall was a poster of a young looking Mick Jagger. It almost felt as if she was back in her teenage days. It certainly heightened the feeling that there's nothing quite like being back where you grew up. Surrounded by so many fond memories. James was also part of those recollections. He was

a couple of years or so younger than herself. Thinking it was a shame that he would not be at tonight’s dinner. Sue reluctantly slid off the bed and letting the memories of yesteryears slide away too, went to turn on the bath for a quick soak, rather than the shower that she had to make do with at her place in London. Then to finally powder her nose and make herself more or less ready to meet the Grants. Only half an hour later as Sue was making her way downstairs, she saw her mother opening the door to the TV come living room. Quickly following her in before the door closed ‘Good you're both back,’ remarked her father. ‘Just-intime for a quick one before the Grants arrive. What will it be? It’s always a G and T for your mother, same for you Sue?’ ‘Vodka and tonic if you would, and plenty of the tonic please. I hate to give the Grants the idea that the journalistic world is full of alcoholics, even though I've moved on to TV.’ ‘I’m sure they don’t, come and sit with us by the window. And let's hear about this new job of yours.’ Said her father while making his way over to a small bar to busy himself making Sue's vodka and her mothers’s gin and tonic. Sue now sitting next to her mother, with her drink in hand said, ‘cheers.’ And taking a sip went on to say, looking across to her father, ‘I know you are dying to hear about this new job of mine.’ ‘About to see you on TV are we?’ Said Sue's dad about to take a sip of his whiskey. ‘No, it’s not that kind of job, I'm on the production side.’ ‘More the pity, you're certainly pretty enough. Give the Grants something to talk about, that’s for sure.’ ‘Take no notice of your father darling, he just loves talking about you. And I'm sure I've told him more than once, as to what you are up too these days. If he only would take his nose out of his newspaper at breakfast.’

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Before Sue could reply they heard the unmistakable sound of crunching gravel, as the Grants car swung past the open windows. ‘Harry give them a shout, tell them to come in through the garden. Give them my apologies for not saying hello. I must get back to the kitchen before I get too distracted. Don't take too long over your drinks. Otherwise it’s going to be burnt offerings!’ ‘Can you give them a shout Sue, while I go and find some more glasses.’ They had already seen Sue standing out on the gravel. Before she could give them a wave, they were almost at the open doors of the French windows. ‘Sue, what a welcoming surprise. Most unexpected to see you here this evening.’ Said Willy's wife Jane, at the same time giving Sue a kiss on the cheek, followed by another from her husband. ‘Come on through both of you, and sit yourself down.’ Said Harry's voice from over Sue’s shoulder. ‘I’ll get you both a G and T, that’s your tipple, I know for sure. Less you have gone over to vodka, like my daughter here for no good reason. Anyhow good to see you. I don't want to rush you, but I have a feeling that Liz is about to shout out that dinner is on the table. And that looks like a very nice bottle of red I see, very kind of you, most appreciated. I'm sure we'll do it justice before the evening is out.’ ‘I’m sure we will between us, and it's wonderful to see you, especially Sue, that was a surprise. Would I be right in saying that you have moved out of the world of newspapers?’ ‘Yes you're right there, our daughter has indeed moved in a completely new direction, but before I elaborate on that, or better still Sue, we better finished our drinks before any moment my wife will tell us that dinner is already on the table.’

Chapter 5

The last of the warm evening sunlight flickered across the ancient mellowed wood of the dining table, while twinkling off the glasses and cutlery, sending slithering shards of light over the portraits of Sue’s long departed ancestors. This was now the room that had now been designated as the dining room. And what was the dining room before, had lost its status, was now where the TV was situated. Everyone had agreed that this was a far better place for the more formal kind of meals, with the ancient ancestors looking on. Though the TV room still hosted the more casual meals. Especially when there was a series on TV when the mistress of the house was compulsively drawn too. ‘Jane, Willie, how are you both? Harry’s got you both a drink I see, good. Sorry I wasn't here to greet you, as the kitchen was demanding my attention. The days of cooks are long over I'm afraid, why don't we all go through and sit down, starters are on the table.’ ‘Lizzy, I really do not know how you do it.’ Jane said before sitting down at the table and giving Lizzy a kiss. ‘A house this size, and the garden still looks wonderful too.’ ‘Well we managed to find a new Gardner, as you know the last one died. He comes in three times a week, and that certainly helps to keep it more or less under control. And his wife helps out a couple of days a week with the cleaning, luckily they both live nearby in the village. Plus the fact we have closed up over half the rooms. It’s a handful I know, but I just can't bear to leave it for something smaller and more practical. Anyhow enough of my household worries. Willie why don't you sit there. Sue next to you, and I'll sit at this end of the table, it’s easier that way for me to get to the kitchen. Jane and myself we'll sit opposite. And of course my Lord of the manor,’ said Jane smiling at her husband, ‘sits in his usual place at the head of the table.’ ‘Now that Liz has got everybody seated let's make a start,’ said Harry looking around at everybody, ‘I’ve got a rather nice Chardonnay to go with Lizzy’s starters.’

‘Here's to the chef.’ said Willie raising his glass across the table, and clinking it with Lizzy’s opposite. With Lizzy smiling broadly in appreciation. ‘Sorry Sue,’ Willy went on, ‘I’ve hardly had a chance to say a word to you. Words have it, that you have left the world of print. For that thing we seem to stare at most evenings?’ ‘Yes,’ you've heard right.’ Smiled Sue, ‘I’ve gone over to the other side, I was made offer that I just couldn't refuse. I'm helping to produce a programme on the unexplained. What some would call the paranormal. Depending I suppose on what your viewpoint happens to be. As far as this TV production goes we try to keep an impartial opinion, but the more you delve into all this, you find yourself having to leave your once biased opinion behind.’ ‘Unexplained.’ Going into his QC mode as if addressing a jury. ‘Well as you know I have to deal with facts and fiction during my working life, that's the burden I always have to carry. I'm not sure what my status would be, should I ever have to deal with it like yourself. But I do tend to agree with you. That it can't be lightly dismissed. Apart from that, all you can do is to keep an open mind. Though I will say one thing.’ At the same time and smiling towards his wife, ‘as Jane well knows, I always have to read a book before I go to sleep at night, the books are normally of the crime variety. Though you might think, as I do sometimes that I have enough of real crime during my working day. Anyhow to get back to what I'm really trying to say, is just this. As I'm sure you know that anything of a paranormal nature given as evidence in court would be a complete no-no. The book I'm reading at the moment is by an author called Peter James who writes excellent crime novels, in one chapter a policeman giving evidence had been found out that he had used a psychic, he was immediately in trouble because of that. But to get back at the defence lawyer who had so humiliated him. He replied, what is the first thing I have to do when I, or anybody else come’s into the witness box? You swear to God on the Holy Bible, that the evidence you shall give is the whole etc etc. God can only be termed as a supernatural being, if that isn't paranormal I don't know what is. Personally I prefer the word creator, which I'll drink to. Cheers everybody. ‘As far as I can tell, and that is from what I've been able to glean from the odd bits of conversational snippets I occasionally get to hear from my dear wife, is just this. Our daughter is trying to throw light in entertaining way I'm sure, on things that go bump or what ever they do in the night. And is being handsomely rewarded for just that. What could be better I say. If you see what I mean. Let me

refill your glass Willy, anybody else for a top up. What you have just said Willy, barely crosses peoples minds and I feel sure that my daughter here will use that evidence somewhere in her research, without having to swear to anybody.’ ‘Thanks dad for clearing up any misapprehension, as to what I do with such clarity. In somewhat of a funny way, I might say. What my wonderful father has just explained, you could well say that is the general idea. But hopefully someone or other, if not me will try to be a little more specific. For those in any doubt about my labours. Oh before I forget, how is James getting on? I can't really when it was the last time I saw him.’ ‘James is fine,’ with both parents answering almost in unison. James as you know is at Oxford University, he’s taking a course in computer science. ‘Though he does seem to be rustling some feathers at the moment,’ implied his father with a hint of a smile. ‘Oh why’s that?’ Prompted Sue. ‘For what I can gather, he has chosen for his thesis subject a theme which is almost sacrosanct in the hallowed world of science. Mind you this is typical of James, always wanting to go one step further. From what I can gather it’s just this, making the use of a logical argument to put over his theories. I only hope that his tutors give him a sympathetic hearing. ‘What for goodness sake.’ spluttered Sue's father through a mouth full of a choice vintage. ‘As I'm sure you know.’ Said Jame’s father trying to explain. ‘That most of us understand the basic science fact that the Earth was created by what I believe is called the big bang theory. James was quite happy to go along with that idea. But like a dog with a bone he had to go on from there.’ ‘And.’ Someone said from the table. ‘Well, what it comes down too, is this point of view of his. If there was such a big bloody bang in the first place, the earth that is, would have been more than a little hot. And to make it even more unpleasant, according to my son, a little radio activity thrown in. In a minute you'll get to what James is driving at. And this is the bit where he is likely to get scientist somewhat upset as a whole. That any form of life would not have been able to exist, it was sterile. As he puts it,

more sterile than a heart transplant operating theatre. I give him my full as far as that goes. Like James, I also feel that logically he’s got something. I'll try and keep you all informed on how it all turns out.’ Sue looked up from her plate of chicken and mushroom pie and thoughtfully said, ‘I guess he’s got a good point. He always did have the ability to put a different twist on what you might have thought. Good for him, it should make good reading. If nothing else, it would show that he’s got his own way of thinking. And I guess that is what they really like to see. Whether they agree with you or not.’ ‘So to cut a long story short James suggested that life might have arrived here from some other world. And for some reason or other in science, that is a bit of a no-no. There’s quite a bit more, and I'm sure that James would do a much better job of explaining his convictions than me. Actually he’s coming home tomorrow. And if I might make a suggestion, why don't you all come over for Sunday lunch? Then you can put him on the spot, or do what I have to do on quite a few days of my life for real. Put him in the witness box of our luncheon table for a bit of cross questioning.’ ‘Sounds like an excellent idea to me, I'm sure Liz is all for that. And I can see that Sue is more than curious to see James. And no doubt James will be more than interested about the in and outs of Sue’s TV life. And your idea of cross questioning him would be a bit of fun. It will be interesting to see what the man has to say for himself.’ The dinner continued through to pudding, cheese, finishing with an excellent almanac. The ladies declining any further drink apart from coffee. Possibly anymore drink for Sue, after the day she's had had would be just a little too much. As for Jane, she knew that she was the put upon driver. Willie commented as he drained his glass. ‘The law doesn't seem to know what a five day week is. And I have to put in a morning of Saturday work. And I can see my wife is giving me that hard look that says, I've had enough.' 'Yes dear you're quite right.’ The whole evening had gone by more quickly than Sue would have first imagined. It was not quite the weekend that Sue had been expecting, the idea of putting her feet up was fast disappearing. But she couldn’t help in feeling

somewhat intrigued to see her cousin James. Not only that it will be straight from the horses mouth as to why his thesis went so much against the consensus of scientist, who liked to have the last say. Without a doubt this notion of his she felt sure, that he would have more than likely put a great deal of thought into it. She would certainly probe a little bit deeper, knowing that it would demand more than just casual table chat. While thinking, could James's thesis be linked somewhere along the line, to what she was working on? Where, it wasn't clear, but it was certainly an intriguing option she would leave open. This was in Sue’s mind as everybody made their way from the table to the door, and the sayings of good byes, together with good night kisses on the cheek. Now with a calming silence throughout the house, Sue made her way up to her room collapsing on to the welcoming bed, with a grateful sigh that the day had finally come to an end, barely being able to rid herself of clothes, before sliding down between the cool sheets that was accompanied by an instant state of unconsciousness.

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It was with the welcoming sound of twittering birdsong emphasising the fact she was back in the family home, rather than the din of Fulham's traffic that competed with the early morning banging and emptying of dustbins, this was always the backdrop for Londoners. It was this cacophony of sound that always heralded the dawn wake-up call. The golden tinged sunlight was now streaming in through the bedroom windows. This was all together a far more gentle waking than the previous weekend in London. Looking at her bedside clock she was surprised to see that it was already 10 o'clock. I deserve this lay-in she told herself. At the same time her mouth was telling her a different story, that she also deserved coffee. Or perhaps tea would be a good idea. So on Monday she would once again have a fresh appreciation of coffee. Especially as her mother did not share a taste for the high roast variety. Having deliberated over these first few thoughts, Sue swung herself out of bed, showered, and found some suitable weekend clothes. Which nearly always consisted of her favourite jeans, plus one of her father’s collarless old shirts. ‘Sleep well darling,’ asked her mother over her shoulder while filling the kettle with water, as Sue entered the kitchen. ‘Tea and toast okay? I'll you with

some tea, Earl Grey if that suit’s you? Your father might well be an Earl, but he has no liking for that tea. I always have to make his tea with Marks & Spencer's extra strong tea bags. He told me that it has something to do with his National Service army days. But you know your father, he’s more than often mistaken for the gardener, or some odd job man, rather than one of the aristocracy around here.’ ‘Like a log, not even a dream which was a bit of a surprise, after that lunch of mine yesterday. I'll tell you more about that later, any more of your home-made marmalade by any chance?’ ‘Just about, your father has no objection to that delicacy. You might have to scrape the bottom of the jar.’ Reaching across the table, Sue picked up a slice of toast to butter, and spread what was left of the thick cut peel marmalade over it. At the same time thinking how nice it was to be home for the weekend, with nothing to do but put her feet up and eat. It was not as if she was any way paranoid. But for some strange reason, when ever she thought that she did not have a worry in the world, something always seemed to turn up. And break the agreeable lull in her life. Guessing that it had something to do with her journalist days. And the reason it made you always a little bit edgy and suspicious, when everything appeared to be a little too good around you. Sue’s reverie was broken into as her mother asked if she would like a further cup of the fragrant Earl Grey. Through a mouthful of toast Sue managed to say, ‘that would be good. Mum... before I forget to ask, do the dogs still bark at midday?’ ‘Yes they certainly do, you can hardly hear yourself speak, why do you ask? They make a frightful row if they have managed to have crept back into the kitchen around that time. Should I’ve forgotten to close the kitchen door. Or your father has come in, especially from the garden where they quite often trail your father around, and he decides to come back to the kitchen, he never seems to close any doors.’ ‘How do you feel about being on TV?’ ‘Tell me, why should I be on TV?’

‘The dogs.’ ‘The dogs.’ ‘Yes the dogs.’ Sue repeated once again thinking that this conversation was going nowhere fast. ‘As you might well . I'm working on this TV programme about the unexplained. And I was telling Mike, that's my boss by the way about our dogs odd behaviour, and how it was when Robbie our old gardener used to the kitchen window at midday, and as far as the dogs are concerned, he still does.’ ‘I can't tell you how much I miss Robbie, he’s been with us such a long time. And the garden is a constant reminder of him. Robbie was even around before we got round to having you, he was almost one of the family.’ ‘So the thing is this. I would come down here with a camera crew, someone would interview you. And with a bit of luck we get the dogs barking at the appropriate time. How does that sound to you?’ ‘Yes why not, sounds fun. Could do with change of pace around here. When... were you thinking of doing this...?’ ‘Shoot they call it. I have to go up to Scotland this coming Monday. So I was hoping somewhere near the end of the week after. And as this kind of thing goes, it should be fairly easy. Providing the dogs cooperate on cue of course. I expect by then we can have the presenter fixed up. Thats the person who will be interviewing you on camera. We hope it will be that actor who made a name for himself on that British take off of the American X-Files.’ ‘I rather like him, rather dishy I seem to . He’s welcome in my kitchen anytime. Not that your father would notice.’ Sue gave a knowing smile to her mother. ‘Actually I did mention it to Mike, that dad would hardly notice if anything unbetold was happening in the kitchen. Even if a Hollywood blockbuster was being made right under his nose. You know dad, once he’s in the garden he could be miles away. Anyhow don't worry I'll give you good warning before we all turn up.’ ‘Yes I'm sure you would, now I really must get on. By the way have you got any plans for this Saturday? Anyhow should you be looking for me I'll be

somewhere between the kitchen and the garden. And if you are around for lunch it will be the usual Saturday variety.’ ‘Along the lines of cheese and pickles you mean?’ said Sue. ‘Yes I think it's one of your father’s favourite meals, even for all the cooking I do.’

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Before the conversation continue about her fathers likes and dislikes. Her mother was out of the kitchen door, leaving Sue to lazily think about the rest of the day. That's the wonderful thing for sure about weekends at home. No decisions to make, no food to think about. She also knew that it was perhaps a good idea just to forget about anything you might have read on the latest slimming fads. As she slowly bit her way through what was left of the toast, and picking up the cup to sip the last of her tea. Swallowing the tea, her mind was pulled back to thinking about Jackie and her rather strange dreams. While going on to think about her forthcoming journey to Scotland to find out more about Mr Simpson and his mystifying experiences. Let alone her own very puzzling barking dogs, who were still apparently able see their deceased gardener. It was all very inexplicable. And just a little bit eerie. She only new too well that these kind of occurrences even in the days of investigative journalism you would more than likely go out of your way to try and steer clear of such disconcerting events. ‘Now I'm surrounded by it, what on earth has happened to my life!’ Sue exclaimed allowed, trying to shut out any more bizarre thoughts that might flash through her mind, which were put on hold when a noise that appeared to be coming from the direction of her bag, that she had dumped on the floor the previous evening, knowing it could only be her mobile demanding her attention. Any further thoughts on the past week were finally banished. ‘Bugger I thought I'd turned the thing off.’ Sue said loudly to anybody who might have been in hearing distance. Her first thought, should she answer, but that inbred curiosity of a reporters background took over. Not only that the callers ID was not a number that Sue recognised. Before even knowing it herself, she was saying ‘hello,’ with bated

breath, at the same time wondering if this short-lived respite in her life was about to be broken. ‘Sue.’ an uncertain voice replied. At first Sue was unsure who was speaking though it did sound vaguely familiar. But with sudden abruptness, knew it was Jackie. A voice filled with anxiety. Before Sue could utter another word Jackie carried on speaking, ‘oh Sue I'm so sorry to call you like this. And I know how stupid I must sound, but I just felt I had too. It’s that dream again, last night it was even more intense, and so very vivid!’ Sue could tell that Jackie was very upset, and could hear her sobbing, ‘Jackie, where about are you?’ Sue managed to hear from her voice that was breaking with emotion, that she was staying at a friend’s flat, on her own in Paddington. ‘Jackie, listen to me, blow your nose you're coming to stay with me this weekend. And you say that this flat you are staying in, I feel sure must be near Paddington Station. So that makes it easy for you to come to where I am. Which will be far better for you than being on your own in London at this time. I'm at my parents house. And don't worry about clothes, it will be easy for you to get here as you're already close to Paddington Station, just get yourself to the station, and get a ticket to Chippenham.’ Glancing at the ticking of the nearby grandfather clock, ‘you can still be here by lunch, and you can tell me all about it, rather than on the phone. And I'm sure you'll feel much more relaxed here. I'll meet you at the station, okay.’ ‘Sue that's really very kind of you.’ Jackie said in a voice that is beginning to sound better by the minute. ‘You're sure that'll be okay? I don't want to upset your weekend or anything.’ ‘Of course you won’t, now have you got a pencil and paper, and I'll tell you which train to take. And what time it leaves, I seem to that if you can get to the station in about 40 minutes you can be on your way. Clicking off her mobile and putting it down amongst the remnants of the breakfast table. ‘That will teach me to start believing that something always seems to happen when life feels just a little too good.’ Sue said to no one but herself, ‘now better get my act together.’ Going on to think that she should break the news to her mother that

there will be an extra guest this weekend. Get on the phone to tell the Grants that they will be having one more guest around for Sunday lunch. Could make for a lively gathering. At the same time wondering what James's reaction to Jackie would be, that in itself could be fun. At least it will hopefully get Jackie to forget her peculiar fantasy for a while. That will perhaps spread a little more light on what she’s been going through. With that thought alone, she could not help but wonder what in fact it'll be like to have such an experience. To be in Jackie's shoes, I guess I too would be some what reluctant to even talk about it for starters. That alone gave her a lot of sympathy for Jackie’s plight. Knowing that this was more than enough to ponder over for now, that couldn't be more than evident. Stepping out from the kitchen door to give her mother a shout, who was busy in the kitchen garden, sorting out the vegetables for tonight’s dinner. ‘Got something to tell you!’ ‘Not a problem, your father always enjoys a new face, and it always gives him an excuse to find something extra special from his wine cellar.’

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Chapter 6 ‘That’s it, I suppose.’ Sue said to the cat, who was sunning itself on the kitchen window ledge, no more lazying around for me, thats officially over she reflected, stepping back into the kitchen. At the same time subconsciously switching from low to high gear in an effort to prepare herself for the imminent arrival of Jackie. In no more than 20 minutes she had managed to get herself looking half decent. Taking the keys for the Land Rover which were hanging on a hook in the kitchen. She turned to her mother, who was now back in the kitchen, having finished whatever she had been doing in the kitchen garden, and was now making preparations for tonight’s dinner and said, ‘I’m off to the station to pick up Jackie, shouldn't be long.’ ‘Seeing that you are going in to town, if you find you’ve got time, could you go into that bread shop I like, and pick up a couple of French bread loaves, as we’ve got one more for lunch. Better make that three, nothing like the smell of fresh bread. I’ll leave any leftovers for the freezer, should there be any of course. Oh

one other small thing, do you by any chance happen to know if this new friend of yours is a vegetarian or not? It seems to me it is always the people who live in the cities that have that problem, you don't often hear about it in the countryside.’ ‘Luckily, it happened to come up in conversation we had during our recent lunch. I can more or less ing her saying. “With a father such as mine who happened to be a vicar, I was told to be thankful for what you get,” and came to the conclusion she was not.’ Sue said as she went out of the kitchen door and walked briskly over to what was once the stables, where the old Land Rover was kept. Before long she was in Chippenham with plenty of time in hand. While managing to find a parking place at the station car park, which was in short walking distance to the bakery, where to pick up the required French bread. She hurried back to the car, throwing the bag of bread into the back while looking-up at the station clock, she found that she was still early for the arrival of the train from London, that she expected Jackie to be on. Still with some 10 minutes to spare this gave her a few more minutes to get her breath back from the earlier morning rush. While also giving her a few more moments to gather her thoughts together. Just wondering as to what you might say to someone you've hardly known for 24 hours, in fact not even that. And who was on the phone just a couple of hours ago with a story that only a few weeks ago she would have rejected out of hand as being too silly for words. Before Sue could give any further scrutinisation or thought to the strange situation that had been developing around her, the train screeched to a halt, to the accompaniment of hissing opening doors. She quickly spied Jackie from the dozen or so engers who got off the train. Jackie was looking a little lost, almost waif like, as the other engers bustled past her in the direction of the platform exit. Sue standing on tiptoe waving, knowing there was not much point in shouting above the din of the train about to depart. But within seconds Jackie had spotted Sue and waved back. Jackie couldn't have looked happier on seeing Sue, at the same time trying to put words together, ‘this is so good of you, I don't know what to say.’ ‘Nothing for you to say, I'm just glad you could make it. Let me take your bag. I'm just parked in the station car park. No problem getting here I guess? You’re right on time.’ ‘No it was easy, just as you said, but I do feel embarrassed about being here like

this. I guess it was all getting to me somewhat.’ ‘Please don't be on that point, I'm more than glad to see you.’ Sue remarked as they walked out of the station to the car park. ‘You must excuse this rather battered looking Land Rover. I think it’s older than me. I’ve been told that its only meant to be used only for trips to our local village. Jump in, and try not to lean on the door as it has a habit of opening. Sorry about the seat there's a rather nasty looking spring sticking through. So mind your bum,’ said a grinning Sue. Jackie was now visibly more relaxed, Sue noticed as they drove out of the car park. Jackie felt speechless at Sue’s kindness, as the Land Rover made its way out of Chippenham on the way to Lacock and Sue’s home. When they swung suddenly left off the road, through a pair of moss covered granite pillars, holding permanently open a pair of huge wrought iron gates that could barely be seen due to the covering of ivy. Jackie let out a gasp of amazement, as she saw the house at the end of the gravel drive. 'That's your house? It's beautiful.’ It was Sue’s turn to look a little embarrassed, she never really knew why. Maybe it was the other side of life that Sue saw throughout her journalistic experiences. ‘I guess I’ve got a little use to it, its been in the family for many generations now. Locally it’s known as the manor house. Luckily or perhaps fortunately it’s a little smaller than some of those other country house heaps you see dotted around the country. Keeping it running is a bit of a job, without all the servants a place like this would have been employed once upon a time. So we only keep going the bits we need to live in. Somehow or other, my parents manage it. And I know they would hate to leave. What I do know is that you’ll have a relaxing weekend here. Which I’m sure, just what you need.’ Before they came to a stop at the back of the house. Sue said to Jackie, ‘by the way I haven't mentioned to my parents or anybody else about your story, you can bring me up-to-date later okay. So just sit back and relax. As far as my mum knows, you're just a good friend of mine, as you truly are now.’ Jackie nodded with a look of relief, her agreement. And adding, ‘thanks again for everything. It was really good of you.’ As they skidded to a halt on the gravel, and stepping down to walk to the paving stones that led up to the kitchen. Sue’s mother was standing at the kitchen door.

‘Sorry you didn't come in through the front, as Sue knew that I was in the kitchen and it’s such a long trek to the front of the house. Apart from that, as soon as my back is turned, something will go amiss. You must be Jackie, I'm Sue's mum, please call me Lizzie.’ Jackie's still looking a bit dazed could only smile in appreciation. Sue’s mother went on talking more to herself than to them. ‘We’re going to have a light lunch or what some might call a ploughmans. Did you to get the French bread Sue? Oh of course you did, it’s on the table with everything else, cheese, ham and pickle. Hope thats okay. We got your father's favourite dinner, yet another pie, this time steak and kidney.’ ‘Mum, if I could just get a word in edgeways for just a couple of seconds. I'm sure Jackie wants to put her things down somewhere, so I'm going to show her the room where she'll be sleeping tonight. And no doubt wants to freshen up. So it's my guess, that we will be down for lunch in about 30 minutes or so.’ Escaping Sue's mother, Jackie followed Sue out of the kitchen into what seemed to be a large open space with a wide flight of stairs leading up from the dark timbered floor. Tall narrow windows on each side of the front door which looked as if they would not have been out of place at some mediaeval castle, flooded the led walls with light illuminating various bowls of flowers on tables below paintings depicting the countryside of many generations ago. As they crossed over the hallway towards the stairs. Sue turned to Jackie saying, ‘I know how much you want to get it off your chest, as to what you told me when you phoned, so now while we’ve got a minute to ourselves ...You said that you had that dream again.’ ‘Yes.’ Jackie almost whispered. While looking up at the forever emanating and watchful eyes of the portraits, which fixedly returned her gaze. Taking hold of the substantial banisters for , Jackie stepped up to the first step of the stairs. On reaching the final step, she turned to Sue to say, in more of a murmur, as if the portraits might be listening in. ‘It was when I woke, and the dreams were still very easy to recall. I had the feeling that they had knowledge to what I was going to do. But it was more than that. It was as if to forewarn me. That I could be putting myself into some kind of peril. It was all somewhat disquieting. I'm frightened Sue.’

‘I understand what you must be feeling.’ Said Sue pushing open the door of the room and putting Jackie’s solitary bag on the bed. ‘I know it’s easy for me to say, but try and not to worry, at least for this weekend.’ Jackie with her back to Sue was standing close to the window, appeared to be contemplating the garden below. Without turning around to face Sue. Still speaking softly said, ‘that dream seemed... At the time very vivid, but it was somehow obscure. It was as if I was there too, like I'm looking at the garden now, but the glass keeps me from feeling the aura and scent of the garden. Seeing only the colour, and I can't put a face to the persons that I appeared to be in conversation with. Though my lookalike I told you about at our lunch, did not seem to be part of my dream this time.’ Turning away from the window, Jackie went on, ‘so I feel like an idiot telling you this, and scared at the same time. But there was a feeling of warmth and concern for me, it was all so real. I know that you only have my word for all this but had it not been for the answer to that complex mathematical conundrum that so surprised my tutor. I think I might have well believed, that I was more in need of a psychiatrist.’ ‘Well firstly Jackie, as I said to you before that lunch of not so long ago, I believe you. So you don't have any worries in that direction. What do we do next? I wish I could say, which is most likely not much in the way of help to you, and like I said only a couple of minutes ago, put your feet up and relax. At least you are in the right place. Come downstairs when you're ready. I'll be in the room on the left as you come downstairs, and I'll give you a quick guided tour.’

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Some thirty minutes later Sue heard the door of the room where she had been reading one of the Saturday morning papers hesitantly open. Jackie's head peered through the gap. While Sue disentangled herself from the enveloping folds of the paper. Jackie was now once again looking more like her happier self. Dressed in similar faded blue jeans completing the outfit with a collarless shirt, almost a mirror image of Sue’s fashion sense. Jackie laughing as she spoke, ‘sorry didn't mean to clash on outfits.’ ‘You look great. It will certainly give me back up as to what I'm always trying to

prove to my mother that men's old shirts are a never an out of fashion item. Anyhow it's nice to know that at least on the fashion front we think alike. So, if you are up to it, we've just got time before lunch for a quick tour around the garden. At the same time it will give us a bit of an appetite. It won't be too far. The house is another matter altogether, and I'm not even sure if I my way around.’ Stepping over the newspapers that lay around her feet, Sue led the way through the doors of the French windows with Jackie following, out into the garden where there was an immediate smell of new mown grass. Sue's father could be seen manoeuvring a sit down lawn mower on the far side of the lawn. ‘That.’ Said Sue raising her arm and pointing across the lawn, ‘the figure you can see on the mower is the gardener, or if you like my father. Come on, let’s say hello to him.’ As Sue and Jackie strode across the lawn. Sue father had brought the mower to a stop. Swivelling around to look iringly back across the just mowed grass at the dark and light green strips that the mower had left across the lawn. Sue shouted across the lawn to her father, ‘are you iring the lawn, or my friend?’ ‘Now there's a silly question, your friend of course. Seen the lawn a million times.’ His voice just about heard above the racket of the mower. ‘It seems that you have been at my shirts again. I have to omit that they look a lot better on you, than me.’ In a few more strides they were up to the now shut off mower apart from the noise of the still spinning blades. ‘You must be Jackie. Lizzie that's my wife, told me that Sue has someone coming down from London. Glad to meet you.’ At the same time extending a slightly oily hand to a slightly embarrassed looking Jackie. ‘Nice to see a fresh face. You must excuse me, got to finish the lawn before lunch. You can tell me all about yourself over a glass of wine, and whatever else we’re having.’ Before Jackie could come up with a reply, the mower once more burst into life and started off down the lawn in the general direction of the house leaving in its wake a swarth of light green manicure lawn, mixed with the smell of freshly cut grass and exhaust fumes. ‘That's my dad in all his glory,’ smiled Sue, ‘he's a real sweetie, I guess my mum didn't stand a chance when they first met.’

Jackie looked back over a reed flanked pond towards the house with its warm brownish brickwork showing up in contrast to the dark green ivy that clung to it. Hardly believing that such a house could exist, other than in 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. ‘Thanks again for rescuing me from London. It’s just what I need, I already feel so much more relaxed now than what I did earlier today.’ ‘Don't say another word I'm just glad you could come, I guess we should be heading back towards the house it’s almost lunch time. Bread and cheese as you know. I expect that my father, and if I'm right, heard him mention a glass of wine to you. He will almost say for sure, that he’s opening a bottle of red in your honour, at least that would be his excuse.’ As they slowly sauntered their way back across the lawn to the house two dogs both retrievers, one black the other golden in colour were lazily stretched out on the flag stones that led up to the kitchen door. Suddenly they both lifted their heads, almost simultaneously, got up, and started to bark while running with tails wagging. ‘Your dogs seem pleased to see us.’ Said Jackie. ‘You might well think that,’ said Sue. The dogs were now running, but not towards them. ‘Where are they off to?’ Exclaimed Jackie. ‘Just watch, see, they are not at all interested in us.’ They watched as the dogs disappeared to the left in the direction of the kitchen garden. That was shielded from the rest of the house by an ancient brick wall of similar texture. The wall itself gave shelter to thriving grapevines and other climbing flowering plants. Set in the middle of the wall was a small open gate to which the dogs had rushed through. As they got closer to their view of the open gate, they could see that the dogs were not now anywhere nearlyo;’ as exuberant, as they had been just seconds ago. They had come to a halt. But what was only too apparent, that the dogs were no longer had their tails wagging, that were now tucked securely between their legs. With the heads of both dogs cocked to one side in puzzlement. Jackie and Sue who by now were almost up to where the dogs had been laying in the sunshine under the kitchen window. Jackie said to Sue, ‘that's very odd behaviour, are they okay?’ Sue laughed, ‘yes there fine, they'll get over it.’

Jackie looking somewhat bemused and went on to say, ‘get over what?’ ‘In a way I think that you’re more than likely to have a better idea to what's happening to the dogs than me. I might go on to say that you're not the only one with something curious going on, we have our dogs.’ Jackie who was still trying to understand to what Sue was getting at was now looking at the dogs that were now slouching back to where they had come from. Still with tails between their legs. ‘Let me explain. and I'm sure you will sympathise with the dogs. We once had a gardener who only died last year, he was quite old. And I know my mum still misses him. He was almost like part of the family. When the gardener was alive he used to walk past the kitchen window approximately at the same time everyday. I guess he was going for his lunch. He would come from the kitchen garden through that gate that the dogs had dashed through just now. You would have thought by now the dogs would have learnt that he’s not around anymore. But as you have just witnessed, they seem to know better than us. Thats the story. Not only that, I told the same story to Mike, that’s my boss who immediately thought, that like your experience, it would make a good episode for the programme.You might say that you are in good company.’ Jackie looked very thoughtful as she gazed at the dogs before saying, ‘yes I understand only too well, it’s a funny thing to say but I certainly feel an empathy for the dogs. Their reaction was not that different from mine. For want of a better word I would say, confusion.’ Again looking at the dogs before looking back at Sue. ‘What’s beginning to occur to me, I'm being acquainted with something as normal as living itself. Just another facet of life that I will have to come to with. I guess I will just have to accept it. And feel lucky I have this gift. Whether I like it or not. Whatever.’ The dogs having given up on their mysterious encounter, seeing the girls they changed direction, and made their way over to them, looking for more substantial comfort than what they had just encountered. With both dogs now laying in the way of the door to the kitchen, at the same time nuzzling Sue as she came up to them, demanding more of her attention. ‘What amazing dogs you have.’ Said Jackie bending down to rub their heads. And same time a white cat detached itself from the comfort of the kitchen window ledge where it had been soaking up the sun. Pushing its way between the two dogs to have its fair share

of affection. ‘Your cat seems totally unperturbed by your dogs.’ ‘He's called Dipstick and has known the dogs since they were puppies. He's a couple years older than what they are, and the dogs certainly respect him, as you see Dipstick is a very pushy cat. My father named him that on its habit of sucking its tail.’ ‘I see you found the dogs or is it that the dogs have found you.’ Said Sue’s mother as she entered the kitchen, ‘hope you're both hungry.’ ‘Where’s dad?’ ‘Tidying himself up I would say, but more than likely looking for some wine would be my guess. Look after Jackie, Sue, while I'll get the bread from the oven. I'm just warming it through. Remind your father to eat more slowly Sue, I'm fed up of him complaining of indigestion. I think he loves this kind of meal more than anything. Though the fresh baked bread doesn't exactly help him. Sit yourself down Jackie, I hope you like cheese, its local and the ham melts in your mouth. Put the pickles on the table would you Sue.’ ‘Yes don't forget the pickles Susan.’ Said her father on entering the kitchen clutching a bottle of wine as predicted. ‘Got the corkscrew have you Lizzie? Okay I've got it, picking it up from between the cheese and the ham, proceeded to pull out the cork. Pouring himself a mouthful into his glass at the same time nodding more to himself than to anyone in particular. ‘Yes I think you'll find this will go down well with the cheese and everything else.’ Leaning over the kitchen table with a look of concentration on his face, first filled Jackie's then Sue’s glass, followed by the remaining two. ‘Come on Lizzie sit yourself down, grab that glass in front of you, and lets give a toast to our guest.’ The dogs had moved in closer to the table knowing that there could be a possibility of titbits falling to the floor or even being offered some morsel. Conversation was light. Sue's father was more interested in the vintage of the wine, and how Jackie was enjoying it. Sue knew that her father would rarely directly ask questions of someone he would be in conversation with. He had this uncanny way of making any guest feel completely at home and totally relaxed. Sue also knew from previous experience from observing a variety of guests, that they would be unburdening themselves from a wide variety of subjects on this

or that, or the other. It was the same in the street from the merest of acquaintances. Let alone from those sitting around a dining table. It was this particular ability to get people to talk about their innermost thoughts, as if they’re in a confessional. Coming to the conclusion as to where her journalistic gene had come from. She could quite imagine her father being a priest. It was no wonder as she believed, that her mother was completely swept off her feet by him. While not quite flirting with Jackie, it did not need much of an imagination on how it must have been for her mother. Sue’s mother looked on knowingly, on how a pretty face or in Jackie's case a very beautiful one. This was all that was needed as the catalyst for many a amusing conversations. Lunch came to an end, at much the same time as the wine bottle had relinquished its contents. This was the signal for her father to politely wanting to know if you had had enough. As he would be more than happy to open another one. At this point Sue stood up and said, ‘thanks dad, that was a wonderful lunch let's save ourselves for tonight, and if I know you correctly you can't wait to get in front of the TV.’ Having stood up and pushed his chair back to the table smiled across to his daughter. ‘ You know me only too well my little one.’ Was Sue’s father teasing way of a reply. Sue looking up at her father from the table with a smile of mock innocence on her face. ‘Do I? I'm sure I'm not the only one around here.’ nodding towards her mother, who was beginning to clear away the remnants of lunch. ‘Now if my wonderful husband would make his way to the TV room, and not to forget to take his wine with him, it would make the clearing of the table so much easier.’ It was said in the general direction of where he was standing, but a reply was not expected. ‘The first race starts quite soon, I'll help you clear away tonight my dear, I promise.’ This promise seemed to go unheard by who it was intended for. ‘Of course you will dad.’ Said Sue looking at her mother and under her breath, ‘pigs might fly.’ As her father disappeared from the table to follow his Saturday afternoon race card, and his luck. ‘He's such a dear really. So girls, if I might suggest you do your thing and I will do what I must. Which for once is not too much. Time to put my feet up. Perhaps later if you had happen to be looking for me, I'll be in the garden no doubt. Why

not show Jackie the village? It will give you an appetite for tonight's dinner.' The kitchen fell silent apart from the subdued sound of the television coming from the TV room that was occasionally interrupted by the raised voice of Sue's father not sounding too pleased at the the outcome of some horse or odds. Sue looking across at Jackie while pushing back her chair to the table saying to the still sitting Jackie. ‘Well that's my family for you. Predictable as this wine and cheese, all a bit like McDonald’s, always very consistent you might surmise. But I guess that's what's so good, no surprises. All very relaxing, a total contrast you could say from London's mayhem.’ The casual laid-back lunch had certainly helped Jackie to have a far more look of relaxation on her face than the disturbed one she had arrived with. Looking up at Sue saying. ‘I’m so grateful for you doing all this for me. You're totally right, I couldn't be in a better place. Your family really is amazing, they have almost made me forget about some of the weirdness that seems to have crept into my life recently. And I certainly feel that thanks to you, I have regained back some of my lost normality.’ ‘Well that's certainly good to hear. So to keep you in that frame of mind, let's go the local village as my mother suggested. How would you like to go? Walk and talk, or hang on for dear life in that Land Rover you experienced coming here?’ ‘I guess a walk would do me the world of good.’ Said a far happier looking Jackie than earlier. ‘Okay let's do it, it will be far better for us. More likely to survive that, than that Land Rover of ours. It's only about a 15 minute walk or so. We’ll be there in no time. And you’ll see how beautiful Lacock really is. Most of the houses are over 200 years old. And the village itself has been around far longer than that’ Sue quickly stopped herself from mentioning the ghost of an old lady who was supposed to haunt the local pub, nor the one seen in the Lacock church yard. Knowing all too well that it was a subject that Jackie was trying to escape from. ‘So if you're ready, let's go.’

Chapter 7

The end of the Ploughman's lunch signified the time when the pace became significantly slower than that of a ploughman’s horse. This became apparent when Sue’s father fell asleep in front of the TV. As he was trying to follow his selection of horses running at a far faster pace at Chepstow that afternoon. In the meantime Jackie and Sue hardly noticing how quick their walk was to the local village. Her mother while not feeling quite so disposed to putting her feet up went back into the garden, rather than the vegetable garden where she had been earlier. Deciding that the various flower beds were in need of weeding. Rather than going to the bed of the more sedate kind that she had promised herself earlier. To tackle all those essential tasks that gardeners tend to heap upon themselves. Knowing that she had very little preparation for tonights dinner. Apart from opening up the freezer to pull out one of the steak and kidney pies that she had made sometime previously. For the undiminished appetite of the Earl, for this dish. It was also not before long that the two village shoppers arrived back. Having given good custom to one of the village craft shops. Plus finding some original glad rags at the village boutique. At half the cost of a Covent Garden equivalent. It was in every way the perfect Saturday afternoon. For Jackie things unexplainable well onto the back burner of her mind. It was a feeling of normality which recently had been so absent. With afternoon tea in the kitchen brought the afternoon to a close. ‘I guess you must be feeling as beat up as me after our energetic afternoon, so please feel free to put your feet up.’ Seeing that Jackie was nodding in agreement. Sue pushed her now empty mug of tea towards the teapot, at the same time scraping her chair back saying while yawning. ‘I’ll see you to your room, get lost around here and we might never see you for dinner. Okay up the stairs we go, and I'll give you a knock on your door, say about seven thirtyish. That will give you plenty of time to get yourself together for dinner. Dinner is normally around eight thirty, right mum?’ ‘Is it darling? I never really noticed. I suppose that must be about the time when your father downs his second whiskey, and wanders into the dining room. Unless it's going to be a sit down one in front of the TV. I suppose that it depends on what ever we happen to be watching, more than likely dictates the time that we eat. Sorry I can't be a little more precise than that, but I'm sure you know how it

is.’

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Some three hours later the sound of the Rolling Stones singing, “I can't get no satisfaction,” coming out of her alarm clock iPod radio. With daylight still coming in through the curtains, Sue threw her legs over the side of the bed and made her way to the bathroom . Grabbing her bathrobe from the door slipping it over her shoulders, went to wake up Jacky. It wasn't without some feeling of foreboding when Sue raised her hand to knock on the door. Hoping that if Jackie had had a dream, that it was at least of a more normal variety. Sue had no need for concern. At the very first tap on the door, Jackie gave a cheery response. ‘Hi Sue, come on in.’ Jackie was already sitting on the edge of the bed as Sue entered. ‘I must say you're looking a million times better than when you got off the train. Must have been that walk of ours.’ ‘I certainly feel it. It's amazing even what a short cat nap can do with a bit of country air thrown in.’ Sue knew what she had to ask, with raised eyebrows and trying not to let her voice sound at all worried. ‘No dreams to speak of? ’ ‘If you mean like the dreams I’ve been having, certainly nothing like the ones I've been experiencing recently. I'm very happy to say no. Just what I suppose you could call a common or garden dream. Certainly the garden bit seems apt enough. I can just about it. Unlike the others, this one was quite forgettable. The dream I had just now you could almost say, that it was entertaining. It was actually quite funny. There was this old man. Well he certainly appeared to be. He had a very ruddy smiling face, he was wearing a jacket that looked as though it had seen much better days. Anyhow for some reason, the jacket seemed more important than his face. Apart from his really happy smile. It was the jacket that seemed odd. There was what appeared to be a flowerpot in each of the pockets. Complete with a very beautiful red rose

growing from them. That was when you knocked on the door, and I woke up. It was a kind of comforting dream, certainly not the stuff of nightmares.’ Sue knew almost at once where Jackie's description of the dream was leading. As soon as Jackie mentioned the old man and the jacket. She knew at once, that she should be careful not to show any surprise. It was as if she had been shown a photograph of the old gardener to Jackie. The pockets! Even as a kid she thought it was funny on how Robbie used to stretch the pockets of that jacket almost to bursting point to accommodate some garden flower pot to keep his hands-free. The jacket was a hand down from Sue's father. ing how her father used to say that only a Saville Row jacket was good enough for our gardener. To tell Jackie that the person of this particular dream, was every bit as real as the Einstein look alike of Jackie's other dreams. It would serve no purpose what so ever. It would only likely to increase Jackie’s anxiety. And it was certainly the case, as far as Sue was concerned, of what you don't know, there's no need to worry, certainly rung true. What had happened now, it had cleared away any scepticism that she might have been harbouring, on the authenticity of Jackie bizarre dream encounters. This was certainly the final straw that broke the back of any doubt that might have existed in Sue's mind. Sue had managed to keep her composure intact, if not her racing mind. Thinking that pre-dinner drinks could not have come at a better time. ‘Well that's a relief for sure’ was all that Sue could think of to say. Quickly changing the subject away from anything about dreams. ‘I’m about to have a quick shower, I'll see you in the room with the TV when you're ready. Dad likes an early evening whiskey about then. And I'm sure if you feel like me a quick G and T, or something of that nature, would I know go down a treat.’ ‘That sounds like a really good idea. I'm not sure whether it was our expedition down to your village, or maybe it was the country air that knocked me out. And without a doubt that couple of hours sleep I’ve just had, has certainly revived me. I won't be long, I'll see you downstairs.’ It was, Jackie who had made her way downstairs first. Slowly pushing open the living come TV room door, just as Sue’s father was turning around from the drinks table. Where he had just been busy pouring himself his favourite single malt whiskey. Catching sight of Jackie, he smiled across to her. ‘Come on in, and sit yourself down. Now what can I get you? How about a G and T. No don't tell me you're more like Susan, a vodka girl. It’s totally beyond me why people these

days seem to like it more than gin. No ing for taste I suppose.’ Sitting herself down on a well worn sofa, looked across to the corner that was occupied by the drink’s table. Jackie smiled and said, ‘you're right a vodka and tonic would be wonderful.’ ‘While you're at it dad, makes that two.’ Said Sue who had just come into the room, and going over to Jackie on the sofa. ‘I bet my father was trying to convert you to the delights of gin and tonic.’ Just as Sue was going to continue on the virtues of vodka, when the door opened behind her, and with almost theatrical like precision. Sue’s mother made her way silently across the room and dropped herself down into the armchair. Looking around smiling, saying, ‘it would seem that everyone is here. I think I might say, that this is my favourite time of the day’ ‘The usual for you darling.’ he said more to himself. And reaching for the gin bottle, without waiting for her reply made the usual. ‘And that.’ said his wife, ‘is what some might say is married bliss, knowing exactly what the other one wants.’ ‘You're too kind my dear. You must excuse me for my lack of after lunch manners. I don't think that I managed to say more than two words to the lot of you. Couldn't keep my eyes open, you know. What with the wine, and that bloody horse. Most likely still running. Let's hope that Fulham will manage to win tomorrow.’ ‘It's nice to know that some things don't change around here. At least you're running to your usual form. Perhaps that's more than can be said of your horses dad. Anyhow cheers to Fulham.’ said Sue raising her glass. ‘Thanks for your sympathy.’ said her father with a broad grin on his face. ‘I’ll guess I'll have to wait for the Sunday papers to check out if my other selection is still running, or have I for once chosen a winner.’ ‘You must think we’re all a little bit dotty around here.’ said Sue’s mother smiling at Jackie. ‘I think you’re all quite amazing, thanks so much for making me feel so

welcome. And thanks for giving me such an unexpected treat for this weekend. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.’ ‘Sue mentioned to me, that you're up at Cambridge.’ Sue quickly butting in. ‘Won't James be at tomorrow's lunch? And no doubt we’ll get all the ins and outs of the campus life, I’m sure. Oxford versus Cambridge you might say.’ ‘Yes you're quite right darling. Have another drink all of you, I must get back to the kitchen before something boils over. I'm sure you’re all hungry, and we can all eat in about 15 minutes or so.’ ‘Hands up who wants a refill. I see, just me.’ ‘No, we’re all okay dad. I'm saving myself for that better than usual wine that you tend to open up for a Saturday evening dinner.’ ‘Ah yes, my Saturday night special, what could it be?’ ‘I’m certain it was one of the things that was running through your mind, when you were mowing the lawn. Not only that, I'm sure it’s already sitting on the table minus cork.’ ‘It's in honour of our guest.’ nodding in the direction of Jackie. ‘You’re always most welcome. And Susan make sure it’s soon. Let's drink up before we get shouted at.’ Saturday evening dinner was a very relaxed affair, excellent wine, accompanied with a very delicious steak and kidney pie, which came with new potatoes and garden peas. All this under the soft glow of flickering candlelight. Giving the roundtable where they sat a calming tranquillity, that made up so much for the recent confusion that Jackie had suffered of late. For Sue, while her father made light conversation. She was casting her mind back over the last couple of weeks. Especially to this coming Monday, which might bring even more turmoil. Her working life had never been exactly placid. Only now she had never felt this experience of uneasiness. The last thing she had expected. Not only that she was still having trouble trying to understand what had so recently engulfed her. Far more than she could have possibly imagined.

‘Tell me Susan, are you by some chance contemplating the wonderful bouquet of this remarkable wine, or the sheer mellow smoothness. Or even perhaps the meaning of life itself?’ Sue with her glass now half way up to her mouth, smiled across to her father, ‘sorry nothing so auspicious except for the wine of course. And I can't say anything more than simply delicious. I think my pre-dinner vodka, and now your wine is beginning to catch up with me.’ Putting down her wineglass, looked across at Jackie, ‘how about you?’ ‘I must say that I never thought a weekend could be so perfect, the food is the best ever. And I’ve never tasted a wine so good. I can only say thanks once again for this wonderful weekend.’ ‘I’m glad to hear that. I was beginning to think that it was only me who have this desire for steak and kidney pie. Now who's for the pudding? Let me guess would I be right in saying apple pie, followed by some cheese anybody?’ Looking around the table only to be confronted by the negative response of shaking heads. ‘I do believe my ears deceive me, that you are asking us girls if we are in need of further helpings? I think I would be correct in saying, that my dear husband is on his own as far as pudding goes. You might have noticed that some of us have our waist lines to think about. I might remind you that we have the Grant’s lunch tomorrow. And while on the subject of food. Breakfast will just be toast and marmalade. Rather than what your father likes to call breakfast, a Sunday fry-up. At the very least we will have space for the Grant’s Roast. Apart from that, we better start out about mid-dayish.’ ‘I surely must give thanks to my wife for that sermon on the perils of overeating. Anyhow if thats how you girls want to think. Thats your decision, so be it. But for me, it’s your very delicious apple pie. And my waist line can take care of itself.’ ‘ Which I’m sure it will.’ ‘What will?’ ‘Your waist dear.’

‘Oh that. What was that you were you saying about a thirty minute drive or something like that?’ ‘If you could listen to me before you finish off your apple pie. I was saying that we better start out about mid-dayish for the Grants, it’s only about a thirty minute drive at the most.’ ‘What ever you say my dear, fine by me. No argument on that front, or any other. As long as my sole duty is to keep the wine flowing, the lawn manicured, and a appreciation of your wonderful cooking. What more can a man ask for?’ ‘You’ve got it made dad.’ As far as Jackie was concerned it gave the evening a satisfying and a relaxed ending. Which she hoped would transfer into a peaceful night's slumber. Except for Jackie who had come to the realisation by now that sleep was not something easily achieved. A lingering and brooding feelings was never that far away. Was there going to be yet another dream that would enter her unconsciousness? Reading always helped her into drowsiness. And the one thing she did know, that any reading matter with the title such as meaning of your dreams, would not be in anyway helpful. Sue could only imagine what it must be like for Jackie, as she closed her eyes for sleep. But for Jackie the simple act of just closing your eyes must take on a whole new dimension. Sleep for Sue was just that, undisturbed sleep. That came as a welcome relief from the disturbing realm that she had now found herself entering. For all in the house, sleep with its stealthily enveloping cloak of silence, was making its way through out the enshrouding darkness.

Chapter 8

Sunday arrived for Sue with sunlight streaming through her bedroom windows that overlooked the garden. Glancing at her bedside clock, she was surprised to see that it had already gone nine. Muffled noises could be heard coming from downstairs. The overpowering desire for coffee, even tea, overcoming any yearning to lay in any further. Heaving herself up into an upright position at the same time swinging her feet onto the floor, headed for the bathroom. Making herself reasonably able enough for breakfast and the Sunday papers. Jackie had beaten her downstairs, was nursing a cup of the fragrant Earl Grey, while looking at the toaster to pop up the first two slices of toast. Waiting with almost mouth watering expectation, and the overwhelming desire to melt butter on the still hot toast, going on to spread the thick cut Marmalade. The lady of the household was as usual making an extra strong pot of tea for her husband. Who had so far yet to appear. Pulling out a chair from the kitchen table, Sue said as she sat down. ‘Toast and your homemade marmalade thats just what I need, and what’s more I can see that it’s a fresh pot. That makes me feel even more like having marmalade on toast for breakfast. Morning Jackie, sleep well?’ ‘Like a log, not even a dream, dropped off as soon as my head hit the pillow. I can only put it down to that delicious dinner I was lucky enough to have last night.’ ‘Was that praise indeed, I hear again? And you Sue, the only time you have been first down in the kitchen, was when you were tiny on Christmas morning. What have the papers have to say for themselves this morning?’ ‘Morning mum, not much as usual, unless you are following the fortunes of...’ ‘No, I’m not following the fortunes of anybody. Morning all. Apart from Fulham.’ Said her father as he made his way into the kitchen. ‘And don't tell me the results of that match. It’s one of the delights of Sunday morning looking at the scores. Especially if they have managed to win. Also the fruits of yesterday's wagering at Chepstow, if any. Now be a good girl and hand over the sports

section to your dear old dad. And I seem to from last night that it was going to be a toast only kind of breakfast. No doubt to keep me famished for the Grants. And do justice to their roast. Good thinking on someone's part I suppose. Put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster for me someone, if you'd be so good.’ ‘But knowing you dad, should you be unable to put away their Yorkshire pudding. You would be more than heartbroken.’ ‘Yes, my darling daughter, Fulham won. Which for Jackie seemed an odd reply, as she reached for the marmalade. Yorkshire pud, yes you're quite right.’ The breakfast somewhat convoluted conversation was more than disconcerting, in the odd twists and turns it took between the newspapers and toast. What was important for Jackie it gave her a feeling of safe solid ground. In contrast to that bewildering labyrinth of perplexity that she had been drawn into of late. With the various Sunday broadsheets plus a couple of the tabloids giving up their gossip and dire political comments, left, right, and centre. Now spreading out across the floor like drifting snow. The morning had all but given away to the nationwide lethargy of a Sunday. Except Sue and Jackie had both decided that what was left of the morning should be spent in preparation for the Grant’s roast lunch. Before the grandfather clock could strike the hour of midday. Sue’s mother was the first to make sure she was ready, if not the others. Especially to see that her husband had managed to tear himself away from all the Sundays, and was not dawdling in the readiness to go out. While waiting, she was trying to find the parts of the Sundays that she always liked to read. Meanwhile her husband who had finally made himself ready for the forthcoming lunch, was at the old stable, now minus horses. Where lived their hand-me-down family Bentley. That liked the house, it was the one thing that he felt could not be let go. Now of considerable vintage once showroom shiny in the early sixties, and now only driven fairly infrequently, being told that it made for much cheaper insurance rates. That fitted in well with all the other cost-cutting measures. Though he would never it it, the car tax was occasionally somewhat late, “in the post” would be the reply to anybody in authority who would be so impertinent enough to ask. But much to his dismay, had been told that kind of excuse was no longer viable in this digital age. Sue rather believed that the car gave away her somewhat aristocratic background. But she had to it to herself there's nothing quite like it for your comfort, even considering its

considerable age. It was totally in contrast to her small runaround beetle. With a couple of toots of the horn the car drew up with Bentley type silence, only the sound of the tyres crunching on the strip of gravel spread between the kitchen door and the garden. ‘Ah our driver.’ Said his wife as she looked at him with a hint of a fleeting smile. ‘Yes, but don't forget you take over the reins on the return, my darling. As without a doubt I’ll be a little over the legal limit by some margin. All aboard everybody.’ With the three ladies in ensconced in the rear. The driver’s coronet swapped for chauffeurs hat. Turned around to her, and said. ‘The Grants madam?’

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Less than 30 minutes later they pulled up outside the thatched cottage that was set aside a brook complete with watermill and ducks. What instantly came to mind it was picture perfect that it could have been the location for a Constable painting. For Jackie more used to her fathers various vicarages over the years. This came straight out of the pages of “Country Life”. It could hardly have been more different from the more austere dwellings she had been used to. The door of the car was being opened by a tall youngish man in jeans and check shirt. Who was halfway through the act of opening the enger door for Sue to step out. Who appeared to be frozen with open mouth inaction as he caught the first glance of the smiling face of Jackie. ‘Are you going to let us out Jamie, or are you going to stand there like some village idiot. And please shut your mouth before you catch a fly or something.’ Said Sue's mother who was smiling broadly, and taking control of the situation. A few moments went by as James struggled to regain his sense of equilibrium if not cool. And finally managing to open wide the car door. He took hold of Sue's mothers hand, as she's stepped out from the car, and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek for being so chivalrous.

His mother and father who were standing at the cottage door smiling at their son’s normal aplomb being blown away. It was not so much the unexpected sight of Sue, who he had not seen since going up to Oxford. It was the startling beauty of Jackie, that was holding his gaze. While brief introductions were made for Jackie’s sake, to James. Sue immediately saw a whole new James. Not the one she had climbed trees with in days long ago. They still knew each other like a well thumbed paperback. Knowing it would take a blind man not to see that James had only eyes for Jackie. Sue knew this was going to be a fun lunch. With everybody finally inside the cottage they all made their way out again through the dining room French windows on to a stone flagged patio. Where comfortable garden chairs have been set around a low weathered wooden table, making for a relaxed view of the garden. ‘I thought we all could have a pre-lunch drink out here. Seeing that it’s such a glorious day. Now what will you all be having?’asked their host. ‘Jan is putting the final touches to lunch in the kitchen. I’ve been told to keep out of the way in that department. So what will it be?’ With nearly everybody now sitting down with drinks in hand. Except for James, who had not wasted any time as far as Jackie was concerned, could now be seen escorting Jackie around the garden. Sue who had declined Jame’s polite invitation for the garden tour. Was from over the rim of her vodka and tonic, happily watching the newly met couple leisurely wandering around the outer reaches of the garden. At the same time trying to explain once more the perfunctory questions that she had been asked the previous evening as to what her new job entailed. It was certainly a subject she was beginning to learn, that without a doubt held a curious fascination for many. ‘Sorry everybody that I couldn't you out here for drinks. Had to keep an eye on the oven, but Willie, God bless him left me with a G and T in the kitchen. When you're finished your drinks come and sit down. Willie, grab the roast in the kitchen, and I'll get the rest. We’ll leave the dining room doors open to the garden, let the warm air in. Can someone give James a shout. I have the feeling he’s on another planet.’ In the distance a church clock could be heard chiming the hour. Lending a background to the savouring wafting of the roast beef. That was now set on the

table surrounded by roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding and a variety of vegetables. Ready to seduce the diners with it mouth watering selection of tastes. With everybody finding their place around the table, plates were filled. With wine glasses glowing a deep ruby red. Little being said other than cheers taking over from conversation. Apart from such words as delicious, and a little later “seconds anybody.” Breaking the almost religious silence of the table. ‘Well, I never heard so little being said over one of my meals.’ ‘ ‘Yes.’ someone said, ‘your meals do tend to stun folk into an appreciative silence.’ James who was thoughtfully chewing on a succulent slice of beef, looked across to Jackie smiling, and managing to say, ‘Silence of the beef, rather than the lamb. You might say.’ ‘If my sit down comic son would do the honour of ing the wine around the table. We could have the silence of the comic. Anybody? Holding his own almost empty glass towards James for a refill.’ ‘I’ll not say another word. But one more slice of that delicious roast beef would not go amiss.’ ‘Oh James you're not telling me that you're not going to say another word. I think that would be impossible for you.’ Said Sue holding out her glass for a refill. ‘Rumour has it that you're in your final year now. Your father has been telling me that you are ruffling a few feathers with this thesis of yours. Something about the “big bang” if I'm right. As to what you seem to hear scientists talk about from time to time, trying to make you believe they have all the answers.’ James hesitatingly picked up his wine glass at the same time glancing across at Jackie as if looking for encouragement, before taking a small sip. Jackie returned his glance with the briefest of smiles. The others who had gone for second helpings, were now finished. Finally giving James a brief moment of inspiration to explain further on what was causing such a controversy. ‘So.’ Was James’s first speculative utterance, as he picked up his wineglass once more, this time taking a slightly larger mouthful. Putting it down and at the same time picking up the table napkin to dab his lips. Seeing that he had got everybody's attention, continued. ‘What had got me going, was something that many a scientist and the

like used, was a word. This word constantly annoyed me.’ James once again gave a tentative look across the table to both Jackie and Sue. With Sue instinctively taking on her journalistic mantle. Giving James an encouraging smile. ‘and the wo....’

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Before Sue could finish, James replied. ‘Evolution! A word thats bandied about like a scientific four letter swearword. This word seems to have become the holy grail of science. Especially in regards to ourselves. My idea is just this, that it might be fun to take another look at Mr Darwin and his believers. Fortunately, me being an Oxford man and him, that is Darwin was at Cambridge. That perhaps alone allows me to take a hit at him.’ Sue who had now taken on the role of spokesman for the table said. ‘How did you manage to go about that?’ ‘What I had to do,’ James continued ‘was to take a logical point of view. As it seems to me that logic is always closer to the truth. Now I don't want to bore you all.’ A collective murmur of no no, of course not. Was heard from around the table amidst glasses being refilled. ‘I believe what you were saying a moment ago that you were taking if I’m right, a logical point of view.’ Prompted Sue. ‘Yes,’ replied James. ‘And to keep it all in the proverbial nutshell. I came to the conclusion that it would be logically impossible for any kind of life to have developed here. For one very simple reason. The place, or what we call Earth, all those millions of years ago was hot, quite possibly closer to the temperature of the sun. And no doubt extremely radio active. If you like, more sterile than a hospital transplant heart operating theatre. If the scientific world cannot get that into their heads, it would almost seem they believe in magic. If they go on insisting that life as we know it originated on earth. This is where it all gets very

controversial. I find it surprising that anybody tries to cling to the idea that it all started from some almost magical mix of chemicals. Are most certainly totally out of line. You may as well believe in fairies at the bottom of your garden. What is it about science that they are so reluctant to it the one fact that can only be true, as I said, too hot and sterile here for any kind of life form, animal or otherwise. It’s patently obvious, and please forgive me if I seem to be repeating myself, that we did not somehow miraculously became inhabitants of this earth from some mysterious concoction of compounds as Mr Darwin might suggest.’ James knew as he looked around the table, that he had their attention, as they chuckled at his analogy. ‘To them anything is better than saying that life was put here by some advanced version of us. From somewhere else in the universe. I know recently science has made a discovery that certain chemicals have been found, which might make a form of life possible. I might add that I too go along with this so-called big bang for what it's worth. What I might add without boring you even more, and this is what is rarely mentioned, there was no carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, etc. During this big bang thing. There was only helium, hydrogen, and lithium. Check it out if you feel the need. Hardly the ingredients for life. The same goes for those recent chemicals, but certainly not as life as we know it. Anyhow those chemicals I just mentioned, it would seem now they have managed to create a form of synthetic microbe. Excuse me for repeating myself once more, not a form of life that you or I might understand. You might say that theory take’s you up the garden path even further, along with the fairies. Should you happen to think along those lines. So why is it, we find it so difficult to accept that there could be another possible explanation? I would say that it is all very arrogant of the scientific community, who are quite happy to give a scientific sneer at the mere suggestion of such an idea.’ ‘And on to that garden pond.’ Murmured Sue. ‘Pond did you say?’ Said James looking puzzled. ‘Sorry I’m upsetting your train of thought. You just triggered something that someone mentioned to me just a few days ago.’ ‘No, do go on I have the feeling that what you are about to say will equate to what I'm going on about. Anything that adds fuel to my argument is more than

welcome.’ ‘Thanks for that, James. It was a person I was interviewing for this programme that I'm involved with. Which made me now recall to what you’ve just said.’ Giving Jackie a surreptitious wink across the table. ‘This person was relating to what someone who had thoughtfully remarked. And I think you will go along with this premise was just this. If you threw some iron filings into a pond or some such place, don't expect that a bright red sports car to appear some billions of years later. I know that sounds rather over simplified, but somehow this affinity is not so far away from what you are saying. Sorry again Jamie for butting in, have another mouthful of your wine. I'm fascinated by what you're saying and I feel pretty sure everybody else is too, tell us more.’ At Sue’s suggestions, James sampled his wine while looking around the table once more, seeing that he had their eager attention, carried on. ‘I guess you might say, this is slightly unusual lunchtime entertainment. And thanks for listening to me, there's not much more. Now where were we? As you know we take many things for granted. Such as water, oil, soil, and plant life. All these essentials, would also have been more than likely totally absent. Everything would have to be put here. What was here would have to been changed into substances we know today. By somebody with knowledge far more advanced from anything we know today. The only thing our planet had going for it, was that we were the right distance from the sun. Why this planet you might well ask? I decided that's more for the philosophers, not really down my particular street. Who knows, perhaps we are like a galactic penal settlement a bit like how Australia got started.’ James grinned. Should you want to go down that particular path and think of Earth as just that you could be right, there is no way we can break out. And going to the Moon or later Mars, that is it. Maybe our nearest planet Mars is just there to keep us earthlings amused. In other words earth is escape proof. Perhaps a distant civilisation is laughing at our hopeless attempts to escape Earth. Perhaps rather like that TV programme “Jailbreak.” Now we come to the evolution bit. This is where my tutors really raise their eyebrows. When I gave my tutors a rough outline as to what my thesis subject was going to be about. But at the same time I think they are more interested in how I'm putting my argument across. It all makes sense to me, if no one else.’ ‘And dare I say, what is that.’ commented James's father sounding every bit like the high profile QC he was. At the same time filling his son’s wine glass.

‘Okay, part two you might say. Everybody got a refill?’ Said James giving a quick glance around the table. ‘I think a good title here would be, scientific deep water. Darwin has been the Holy Grail of Science when ever you start on about evolution. The post office even had a set of stamps out for him. Sorry, to get back to what I'm on about. I'm sure you all know about the survival of the fittest and all that. My point of view is this. That there is no such thing as evolution. This is the one thing that really upsets the devotees of Darwin. It's pretty much sacrilege to go against such teachings. Now just in case should any of you are thinking that I’m putting up Darwinism versus creationism. What some people might call intelligent design. Or perhaps any other kind of religious viewpoint. Not in anyway would would I stray in that particular direction. For me, as I mentioned earlier it’s quite simple, I'm trying to take a logical perspective. You hear this word evolution on every other major nature programme on TV amongst others. As if it was one hundred percent true. For a start man was certainly not descended from apes. Close yes, but no way the same. There is no missing link. We have always been like the way we are today. We know from history that we have gradually increased in intelligence. From a time when we were a little primitive in thinking. Yes we have grown fatter and taller.’ This point was emphasised by James grinning at his father. Who was certainly not as slim as in years gone by. ‘That came about purely by experience, on how to grow more nourishing food, and generally look after ourselves better. Ask yourself what would you do if you had this prime piece of real estate called Earth, unspoiled and awaiting a little development?’ Jackie who had been listening intently with much iration to Jame’s monologue. With far more appeal than any of James's tutors could have mustered. Those sitting closest to James would have noticed a slight blush, radiating from his cheeks when Jackie caught his eye. ‘And what should we be asking ourselves?’ A query that was no more than a whisper. For James, Jackie's question was completely seductive, causing him to lose track completely. ‘Just this.’ Before breaking off from any further insights to quickly grab hold of his glass and taking more than one gulp of wine. In an effort to recover his composure. Putting down his now empty glass while giving Jackie a quick surreptitious smile, while moving on to say ‘You're not going to put down your own likeness into such a dangerous environment. You would put down other kinds of species. Like Neanderthal man, which some say are our ancestors, plus all the other prehistoric animals to be observed over many decades. It would seem that each species had a start and finish date. Not as Darwin would suggest

mutating into a similar type. No Neanderthal into man.’ James smiled and said, ‘of course we too might have a use by date. Now if all my meanderings seem a little bit too much. Think of it this way. Simply that Earth is a building site. There were dinosaurs and the like, running around the region. Only to disappear for what reason no one really knows. They too had a use by date. I personally think it would be a much better idea to ask where did they come from in the first place. Now if you can hold that picture in your mind, compare that with a present-day building site. Let your imagination run a little more here. There is a kind of symmetry which is not so different. There you have cranes and other large mechanical contraptions. Which like the dinosaur disappear when construction is finished. Before you know what's happening there is a brand-new building. To be filled with people when it’s ready. Perhaps in the same way that man did when the earth was ready for occupation, as it is today. Now if I might use the word that Sue had just used, oversimplified. But why not. And not to put too much emphasis on what I just said, where on earth did they all come from. Surely not out of that pond that Sue mentioned. Why were these animals so big? But if you care to think about it we have the same similarity today. No doubt you how large your mobile phones were. And I expect anybody who was old enough to LP records. Now you can have your whole music collection on something like the size of a 1p coin. Eventually it was goodbye dinosaur and its friends. Would you today carry around a brick like mobile phone? I don't think so. I know that I'm letting my mind run a little bit loose. It would seem to me there was some reason for all this. You generally find, as I sure you know, there's a reason for everything. Sorry, my apologies if I'm going on a bit. But I can't help feeling that science is so set in its ways. You might possibly go so far as to say, that the thinking in some quarters is not that different from how they thought some 500 years ago or so. When they believed that the sun revolved around the earth. Steadfastly believing that all forms of life originated right here, and totally disbelieving that the earth was far too inhospitable for that to happen. Again refusing to look outside the box. What would be the next question you could ask, where is this all going? The only good answer that springs to mind. Is that the Earth is going from darkness, and traveling into the light of understanding. What is worrying that this thinking of the scientific community, is very much ingrained that there is a danger of it becoming a primitive dogma. What is desperately needed is some form of lateral thought, sooner the better. As I pointed out in the beginning it's a logical perspective that I’m taking. And at the same time, difficult to understand as to why this is not actually understood. That this little fact I mentioned earlier, about the world being extremely hot, to say the least. Anyhow another thought has just

crossed my mind, a simple analogy, bringing me back to that pond. This time a fish pond, now if you will bear with me for a few more seconds, just this. For us and the world we live in is not that dissimilar from any garden fishpond. The fish like ourselves might well believe that there might be other fishponds out there, but with no means of finding out, as we believe in the possibility of other inhabited worlds. The fish, like us have no idea how they got to be in a particular pond. And like us, who put us in this place called Earth or if you like our pond in the first place? If you like we have no more idea than that of a goldfish. Sorry if I'm sounding a bit too profound, so I'll shut up.’ Giving Jackie a hint of a grin as he reached across for the wine. ‘More wine anybody? Well cheers everybody I've said my piece. My apologies if I've gone on a bit, got it off my chest as you might say. There is just one more thing I'd like to mention is just this. How is it that no one likes to own up, that it would be totally impossible for any kind of life to take root in this world of ours that was once completely sterile, and that certainly, is a logical fact.’

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‘You certainly managed to grab my attention,’ said Sue draining her glass. ‘And I've got to say that was somewhat of a clever analogy. A completely straightforward notion if there ever was one, I can't help but wonder why something so simple, would sound so illogical. It certainly puts everything into a more of an acceptable kind of perspective, or if not that, definitely something to think about.’ Giving herself a moment to ponder as to what the scientific world's golden boy, Darwin would have to say, if he had still been around. ‘I go along with what you are saying regards logical reasoning, it’s not something you can deny, or quickly dismiss.’ ‘It's good to know I'm not making a complete idiot of myself. I guess it was you mentioning a pond.’ ‘I’ll go along with that.’ Said a thoughtful looking Jackie. ‘You certainly don't have to follow science theories like sheep, it’s often been in the back of my mind that from an early age, right from your very first science lesson that we were constantly being told that was the way it was, and you better not start

thinking otherwise.’ For a moment there was silence around the table broken only by the clink of glasses and wine being poured. Broken when James's father looked across the table to his son. First putting down the wine he was about to sip. Dabbing his mouth with a napkin said. ‘Would I be right in saying that my son here is following in his fathers footsteps? I must say that James has never expressed that he had any interest in the law before. But his speech just now, if I may call it a speech. To me sounded a bit like the opening of the prosecution. And on trial was Mr Darwin and his followers. And should I reverse my roll from barrister to being a member of the jury. I would already be finding that the accused was guilty. With the rest of the jury agreeing. Finally leaving the judge to pronounce the sentence. What would the sentence be? The judge might well say in ing sentence, that this disorderly bunch who have led us down the garden path for many decades, should be severely punished. As shown by the logic presented by the prosecuting counsel tends to prove.’ ‘Thanks dad for your . I must say I never thought I would be sounding like a prosecuting counsel. I can only hope that my jury that is my tutors, go along with my arguments. At least have some sympathy for my convictions. Or failing that, like my presentation.’ ‘So what you are suggesting.’ Said Sue replying in the direction of both son and father. ‘And as Jackie hinted too, that the eyes of science are tightly blindfolded, if not totally closed. Only to continually perpetuate as to what they want you to believe. What is needed is for someone to come along and remove this restriction. Should they be brave enough to deny any past thinking, if that ever happens, and it's a big if at that, perhaps they can be more sympathetic to what you are writing about. Or in my case, that the paranormal is just as real as any other branch of science. They just don't want to know. It is no longer a subject that can be laughed under the table, the evidence of the supernatural I feel sure is becoming stronger everyday. And ignoring it won't make it go away. It really all goes back, as Jackie also mentioned to our early school days. Should you have said then, that you believed in what James has been discussing, you would most likely be told not to be so stupid. And be laughed at. Let me do a test right now.’ Sue was now directly speaking to James's father. ‘Do you believe in ghosts? Ghosts is not a word that I particularly like, perhaps the word entity should be used. Anyhow I don't think it really matters as far as my question goes. Do you? ’ Not waiting for an answer, Sue went on. ‘I’m pretty sure I know what your

answer will be. No, you will say. And as I know you're very polite, it won't be in a condescending way. But your attitude might not be so courteous should you not know that person. And think that they might not be too clever. Not just you, but more than likely this is what an average person might well say. Now why is that? Most likely thinking that is the correct thing to say. Once upon a time it was difficult to find much in the way of evidence about the paranormal. But not today, we have this thing called the Internet. With pretty much of the general population having the ability to take photographs and even videos with their mobile phones. And what they record, is there for all to see. Certainly some would be having a joke, especially if they know anything about Photoshop. The vast majority are not. But I've come to the conclusion, if you ask that question do you believe in ghosts? I don't really see how you can reply, with a no. You only have to take the trouble to look at the Internet, and there is more than enough evidence to contradict the noes. Forgive me for repeating myself but once again, I say why is that? There is just one other thing that has just crossed my mind, something that I only read just recently, that one in five Britons claims to have experienced the presence of a ghost. And as you might say, I rest my case.’ While at the same time, thinking it’s certainly justifiable that logic has its place here too. ‘Well, if I should happen to be in court, I might well reply like this. My learned friend here, has given evidence which I cannot refute, so I must conclude that I’m unable to disprove the overwhelming evidence that is set before us, it’s there for all of us to see.’ ‘Thank you for that,’ replied a smiling Sue, and raising her glass to all around the table. I must say that was quite a speech too,’ responded James as he clinked his glass with Sue. ‘You've got it in one. I guess we are both coming from the same direction. How do you prise open the minds of the so-called educated world that has been somewhat closed you could say by scientific brain washing. As far back as to our early schooldays, as you said. To be a lot more open minded, and not to dismiss any such thinking as being perhaps time wasting. Jame’s looking relieved that he had now said his piece, smiled across at Sue ‘We used to be.’ Nodding in the direction of Sue, ‘Sue and myself were pretty good at scrumping when we were kids from the local orchards. So let's hope we have the same success of getting into peoples minds as we did with apple orchards.’

Jackie still quite spellbound by James oration, was certainly impressed. And the others nodded their approval at the same time draining their glasses. The hostess went on to say to her son. ‘That was indeed food for thought my darling. Now whose ready for my other course, apple pie time anybody?’ ‘Definitely for me Jan,’ said Harry, ‘and make sure you give a large slice to Susan.’ Winking at his daughter, ‘I’m sure she forgets to eat at this new job of hers.’ ‘I gather, from when you're talking, that you’ve got yourself a new job at a TV production company Sue.’ Said James while looking enviously at the apple pie. ‘Yes, I'm working on a programme, as you might have gathered about the paranormal and the unexplained. Hence my gathering interest in this subject. I must now own up as to someone who would have once quickly rubbish the whole concept of the paranormal, going from that once held standpoint, to now the complete opposite.’ ‘I can see why you have such interest in my subject.which is not so dissimilar from mine and how easy it’s so quickly dismissed as a bit of nonsense, by so many people. Perhaps I should give it a ing word too. Even upsetting more people.’ Seeing a lull in the conversation Sue’s mother stepped in. ‘I don't know if I mentioned it the other evening. And I think I told you some time ago about our barking dogs, and our late departed gardener. Well we're going to put our bit of paranormal activity on TV for the world to see. And you can't deny that our dogs certainly seem to see something. So who's got a ghost story for my baby daughter?’ ‘You really are too much sometimes mum.’

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‘Ah funny you should say that.’ said their host. Anyhow before I go on, anybody for a port. I’ve got this rather nice vintage one. Seems like a good time to open

it." Perhaps a boring brandy. But maybe a more interesting Armagnac. I'll put them on the table and you can help yourselves. And not forgetting your put upon driver, I'm sure Jan has got some coffee.’ ‘Sue is right it’s just too easy to say no, and that's it. But there again, I might surprise you, that I too have a story that might interest you. Which is in the same vain as to what we have been talking about. It was a few years back, longer than I actually like to think. In fact it must have been sometime in the late eighties. Jan and myself took a trip to Hong Kong. James was just starting boarding at Wellington, his first term, I seem to . There was a story that intrigued me in one of their their local rags. The article was about a newly opened Japanese department store on Hong Kong Island. It appeared that the customers and the store assistants alike had been seeing a squad of Japanese army troops march through the store. And disappearing through the nearest wall. It was taken seriously enough to close down the store for a day. They called in some Buddhist priests. That seemed to fix the problem. My guess is they must have somehow marched them back to where they had come from. Later on I found out that the store had been built on the site of some old Victorian British Army barracks. Which I suppose must have been inhabited by the Japanese army during the Second World War. Unfortunately as Sue has just mentioned, this was during the days before mobile phones came to be in pretty well everybody's possession. And that would have been quite amazing to have that event recorded! So there you are Sue. Perhaps you could get yourself a nice trip out to Hong Kong so as to investigate that story further. How's everyone's drink, okay?’ ‘I’ll put it to my boss, you never know your luck, that would be a great trip.’ While thinking what a great shopping expedition to Hong Kong it would make. It did not take much to imagine on her part, as to what the look on Mike’s face would be, should she ever broach the subject. ‘By the way, while we are on the subject of strange but true happenings’ said their host, taking a sip of his wine. ‘You say that your dogs are still barking at your phantom gardener and we might even get to see it happen on TV. I him well, apart from his gardening abilities. He was certainly the best dressed gardener around here. Never forgot that old jacket of yours you gave him. The pockets always bulging with flowerpots.’ Sue who was beginning to feel just a little lethargic, thinking she shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine. That's okay if you are in your own home. You could

easily crash out and find somewhere comfortable to put your head down. Not something you could do in someone else's home. Knowing it wasn't really sociably acceptable to excuse yourself from the table. But these languid deliberations were about to vanish with intensity of a photographer’s flash. Suddenly realising the subject matter of the conversation. And seeing the drawn look of dismay on Jackie's face causing an abrupt realisation that the innocent dream she had of the old man was only too true. That this reality she was now confronting, at the same time causing an impulsive reaction. With the snapping of the stem of the wineglass she had been holding. Sue ed only just now her mother had mentioned their gardener. But at that time the all important jacket was not yet part of the story. And any distress avoided. Jackie was quick to regain her composure. Hastily grabbing her napkin to stem the flow of wine that was advancing towards her and the recently purchased dress. Aided by James who had leapt from his chair, and was leaning across the table to add assistance in an effort to stop the tide of wine from spreading even further. At the same time looking very concerned, asking if she was alright and had not cut herself. James's mother was also coming around the table to back up the rather frantic efforts of her son to help. Above all the chaos, James's father was suggesting that they all retire outside and finish their drinks where they had been earlier. Calm had once more descended when coffee started to replace the array of drinks that had been on offer. Only for Sue along with Jackie realising what caused this sudden moment of drama, when the ing mention of the gardener’s flowerpot, was to induce the snapping stem of the wineglass. While Sue’s father who had hardly noticed what had happened was still reflecting with James’s father, on the merits of brandy compared to those of Arminac. It was sometime later that her mother who was seen looking at her husband, suggested before any more comparisons were made on the virtue of either drink, that perhaps now was the time to make a move. This suggestion was reluctantly taken up. With Sue now sitting in the back of the Bentley with the Lady wife sitting at the wheel waiting to drive them home. Now waiting for Jackie to board, who was being held in earnest conversation by James and was only released when James’s mother telling him like a small boy that he could see his new friend at a later date to the general amusement of everybody and to his embarrassment. ‘Sorry about that.’ said Jackie to no one in particular, while closing the door with one hand and giving James a flicker of a wave with the other, as the car pulled away from the Grants picture postcard home. While their son, was yet again

trying to regain his composure, along with his cool. ‘I think.’ said Sue grinning at Jackie, ‘you might have knocked the said Mr Darwin somewhat out of James's train of thought. I hope he finishes his thesis.’ Jackie looking a little abashed, but with a touch of smile said almost in a whisper, ‘you could be right.’ Little more was said on the return drive. The lunch having a somewhat of a somnolent effect. Sue was happy to see a radiance in Jackie, that certainly had been missing till this moment. Sue was kept to her own thoughts, the lunch had certainly turned out a little more dramatic than she might have first thought. And undeniably so when the gardener and his jacket had come up in conversation, that was somewhat unexpected. She knew she was a little surprised at how Jackie had handled that, far better than could be expected. It was unquestionably going to be a lunch that cousin James would not forget in a hurry. Apart from James communicating his thoughts on his thesis to everyone, and he was without a doubt a hero in Jackie’s eyes. She knew to herself that what James had to say, made a lot of sense. And it made her feel that her present line of work, had to some degree a lot in common with James and his thesis. Any further impressions of the lunch were broken into by the snoring coming from her father in the front enger seat. And the sound of crunching gravel as the car made its way up the front drive of the house, and her mother announcing, ‘that's it, we’re home.’

Chapter 9

Breakfast had a little more urgency to it than the previous morning’s more relaxed one, apart from being almost two hours earlier than usual, due to Sue’s flight to Scotland. It was another toast and marmalade morning for both Jackie and Sue. While for Sue, trying to decide whether or not to have a final cup of Earl Grey, before renewing her taste once again for her high roast coffee. Her mother at the wheel of the family Bentley drove them to Chippenham Station. Saying that the Land Rover was only suitable for driving to the local village. Being somewhat unsure if it had a MOT, let alone having a current road license. With Sue keeping her mouth shut on that little matter, as she leaned out of the window and waived to her father, who was standing by their ever open gate was in deep conversation with the local lawn mower service man. Before long they were at the station and saying their goodbyes. Both Sue and Jackie were taking the train to Paddington. For Sue the tube to Heathrow and her flight to Scotland and Jackie to get back to her Paddington flat where she had been staying, to retrieve some study papers. When that was accomplished to get herself to Victoria coach station and a National Coach service to Cambridge. As much as she loved this part of London where Cosmos was situated. The trip up to Scotland came as a welcome break, the journey to Heathrow went without a hitch, though wishing that she had given herself a little more time at least she knew there was no immigration to go through. It was with some relief when she had finally boarded, and luckily finding herself a window seat. As she started to sort out her seatbelt, the aircraft was pulled backward from the boarding ramp, for a flight that was just over an hour long to Glasgow airport. Sitting in a plane was somewhat of a rarity she ed, even if you were working on a national newspaper it was more than likely a tube ride to some out of the way London suburb, to report on some incident that her editor had assured her would have the right ingredients to want the readers to know more. Casting her mind back to her last flight that was for a short holiday to Ibiza of all places, and that had been over two years ago, ing what a disaster that trip turned out to be. There is no doubt in her own mind, that waiting for take off certainly gave the day a degree of difference. She was glad to see that her fellow enger occupying the seat next to her, was more interested in the sporting pages of the

Telegraph than to strike up a conversation. To make doubly sure of the hour long meditation, she knew she would have with herself, to ponder over the events of the weekend. With the ear buds of her iPhone firmly planted in her ears, she gazed out of the window as the aircraft made its way along the taxi-way for take off. Moments later she was looking down on the clouds, as the events of the past week began to crystallise in her mind. More than anything, was the sharp snapping sound that fractured the stem of conversation from around the table, that rang from Jackie’s fragmented wine glass. That was followed by seconds of inaction as the white tablecloth began to contrast with the red wine that was dripping from her hand that still held to what was left of the stem. This was one image that Sue knew would not be so easily erased from any further recollections that she might have held, now or any time soon. ing the look of shock on Jackie’s face. With only herself it seemed who had noticed to what had actually happened. Everybody else's attention was more concerned with the spilt wine. That was getting ever closer to threaten Jackie’s new dress. What had surprised Sue, was how quickly Jackie had managed to recover her composure. And no one else had understood the real significance of the moment when the late gardener was mentioned, to what had really happened. It was later that day she ed meeting Jackie as she was coming downstairs. And it was much to Sue’s surprise that it was Jackie who spoke first. Telling her not to look so worried. Rather than herself trying to pacify Jackie, than the other way round. It was only when she noticed the enger next to her reconnecting his seatbelt, that these reflections of that lunch vanished, as did the view from the window as the plane descended through clouds making its final approach to Glasgow airport. Having removed her earbuds, she heard over the intercom that they would be landing at Glasgow airport in approximately 10 minutes time. “Please make sure that your seatbelt is fastened, with your seat in the upright position.” Her neighbouring enger was now folding up his Telegraph, turned to Sue with a smile saying, ‘would you like it? I'm finished with it.’ Sue glanced up at her now departing fellow enger, saying, ‘that's very kind of you, thanks.’ ‘You’re welcome, business trip?’ ‘Yes.’ Sue replied,’ back later this afternoon.’ Further conversation was halted as the plane rolled to a stop as the general flux of engers with laptops and briefcases in hand were shuffling towards the

exit. Along with Sue’s newspaper provider who looked over his shoulder, to say before being swept along by engers trying to make their way towards the exit. ‘I’m Ted Howeard, you’re?’ ‘Sue,’ before she could say the rest of her name. He was gone. Glancing over his shoulder saying, ‘might catch you on the return flight, bye.’ before being pushed further along by his inpatient fellow engers. While Sue was still trying to gather up her possessions, he disappeared from view. Having made sure she had everything with her, she was one of the last engers to exit the plane. Made her way in the direction that the sign pointed for taxis. Finding herself in the latter half of the taxi queue, which was not particularly long. Giving her time to think back about her newspaper benefactor. Who seemed to be in his late thirties. Quite attractive. It was a side of her brain that occasionally kicked in. That seemed to be out of control with random thoughts. Further uncalled impressions were projected into her brain, as the word tasty flashed into her subconscious. Before any more girlish thoughts could develop, she was jerked back to reality by the strong Scottish Glaswegian accent asking where she wanted to go. As she slid into the rear seat, pulling the door shut with her free hand. With the taxi already pulling away from the curb. Fumbled through the depths of her shoulder bag, looking for the address that she had typed onto a piece of paper. Finally finding it she handed it across to the driver. It was with the ‘Aye’ that the driver replied with, that she knew for sure she was in Scotland. ‘Renfrew, is noo too far, this noo your furst visit to Scotland?’ The affable broad Glaswegian speaking driver enquired. Sue in reply, thinking she sounded a bit like the now departed Princess Diana. Which she always thought sounded a bit like upper-class cockney, in contrast to the drivers accent. ‘I used to go on holiday to a place called Lairg.’ ‘Oh Aye. The Highlands, my wife comes from up that way.’ Before further conversation could take place, the taxi started to slow. ‘You're

here, number five.’ the driver said coming to a stop. Stepping out of the taxi telling the driver to keep the change from the ten pound note offered, for the eight pound fifty fare. Was rewarded with a large smile and many thanks. Crossing the pavement to the gate, pushed it open, to a well kept front garden full of early summer flowers. Before she had reached the green front door it was opened by a grey-haired man in a green cardigan of a slightly darker shade than the door. Who could only have been the said Mr Simpson. Sue gave a smile as she approached. And was given a welcome that could be only called traditionally Scottish. ‘Welcome to Bonnie Scotland, come on in, come in.’ Sue who had yet to say a word smiled, and said, ‘I’m Sue...’ ‘Sue Jameson. It could only be you, all the way up from London. We don't get many cabs pulling up outside in this neck of the woods.’ The unfamiliar Scottish accent though slightly less of a Scottish brogue than that of the taxi driver was very much in evidence to her ears. ‘And it's not even eleven and you’re already here.’ Sue was ushered into a room that looked out onto the road from which she had just arrived. Sitting in a comfortable looking armchair was a woman knitting. She was dressed in not a dissimilar cardigan to that of Mr Simpson was wearing. The woman putting her knitting to one side and at the same time pushing a large marmalade coloured cat off her lap. Sue knew could only be the wife of Mr Simpson. Sue could see that she was about to heave herself to her feet. Quickly stopping her, saying, ‘please don't get up.’ But to no avail. Now standing up with the cat skulking at her feet. The woman insisted, that she felt sure, that Sue was in need of a cup of tea while Mr Simpson pointed to the sofa in an effort to get Sue to sit down at the same time making introductions to his wife Rosie. After a polite handshake, Rosie headed for the kitchen and nodded for Sue to finally take a seat on the sofa. With the niceties of introductions at last put aside, Sue smiled across to Mr Simpson who sat in the armchair opposite to the armchair that his wife had recently occupied. ‘Mr Simpson.’ ‘Please call me Dougie. Otherwise you'll sound like some one from the local council asking some stupid question or other.’

‘Okay Dougie, it’s Sue for me. And I promise you I’m not from the council.’ Sue went on to explain all about the programme she was working on. Going on to say how intrigued they were to get his letter about the strange happenings he had experience at the site of the bombed house. How they felt that what happened on that night was a genuine reflection on what he had experienced. Which was why she was sitting here now. And to get a personal exposure to where the unsettling incident happened. ‘So anything you say Dougie, will certainly be taken seriously by me.’ ‘Well that's quite a relief then. I thought after I had written that letter and almost wishing I hadn’t sent it. That you would be thinking of me as some kind of fruitcake on the loose. Coming all this way to humour me.’ Said Dougie with a broad grin. ‘You don't have to worry about that any more Dougie. But the first thing I like you to do, is for you to take me around to where all this happened. When we get there, I'll take a snap shot of the place. So our programme director can get a feel of what we’re talking about. Plus a shot of yourself if you don't mind. Tell me, have you been back there since?’ ‘I go past that place at least two of three times a week, it’s about the only way you can get to the shops from here, also to the pub that I mentioned in the letter I sent you. But what I can tell you, as soon as I get even close to where it happened it all comes back to me very vividly. I don't even like to look over to where the house once stood. It's even worse on my evening stroll to the pub. I almost want to keep my eyes closed just in case that girl decides to reappear once more. It's certainly something I can do without. Whatever I might think now, it looks as it has always looked, a bit of a rubbish dump. No one has ever bothered to build on it again. I think the reason being as far as I know, is that no one seems to know anybody who owns it.’ Before Dougie could continue further there was a rattle of tea things as Dougie’s wife came through the living room door carrying a tray loaded down with cakes, cups, plus a steaming pot of tea. Putting it all down on a small table that stood in the space between them, straightening herself up and smiling down at Sue saying in an accent slightly softer than her husbands, ‘to think you came all this way from London for this bit of nonsense. I thought it was only the Loch Ness monster that people are interested in. And thats up in the Highlands. But this.’

Nodding her head towards her husband. ‘As I said to him later, you should have been more careful on how many drams of whiskey you managed to get down yourself that night. Though as far as I know, all this actually happened even before he got to the pub. So I can hardly accuse him of having too many drinks. But I’m sure you’ll make what you like of this story of his. All I can say with absolute truth that I've been married to him for the last thirty years or so. He's never been the one to exaggerate or to get excited about much at all, for that matter. Except for one occasion I , when he thought he got the right numbers on the lottery. I was already in bed that evening when he came in from the pub. And more than half asleep, I thought I told him to stop talking rubbish, and go to sleep. Except the next morning, he repeated the story. I could see that he was still a little shaken when he spoke of it. It was me who saw your ment in our local paper. Telling him it would do him some good to get it off his chest, to tell you and here you are. Fortunately there was a postal address, not one of those email things you see all the time. As we never got around to getting a computer.’ Dougie’s wife made her way over to the armchair she had earlier vacated for the kitchen, first pushing the cat away from where she was about to sit. Whilst Sue was thinking what to say next, was told to help herself to milk and sugar. And that the scones had been made only that morning. Also told that she didn't want to hear of any excuses about slimming for not trying one. When there was only crumbs left on the plate Sue brushing crumbs away from her chin ventured to say, looking across at Dougie, ‘shall we take a walk over to this place?’ ‘Aye, if you’ve finished your tea and can move after the scones. I'll put my shoes on, and we can be on our way, it's not that far.’ With that Sue stood, picking up her shoulder bag smiled across to Dougie. ‘Ready when you are.’

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As they walked out of the door, Dougie shouted back to his wife who was in the kitchen, ‘won't be long pet.’ Closing the front door behind him while turning to Sue saying, ‘the wife has been having a bit of a laugh about this with me. But at

least I'm thankful she hasn't mentioned it to the neighbours. Otherwise I don't think I would ever dare go out again. As you might have noticed she knows me well enough, that I was not kidding. Anyhow let me show you what I've got to show. The more I think about it, it’s not much I'm afraid.’ Opening the gate for Sue, pointing to the right saying, ‘if noo anything else it’s a rare day for a walk.’ With the sun shining on their backs. Sue was having trouble in thinking that this was not the weather you would associate with Scotland. It was indeed a rare day for a short stroll. In little more than ten minutes they arrived at their objective. What seemed at first sight no more than a weed strewn corner of the road, the foundations for what was once the house could still be seen poking through the weeds together with a pram with a missing wheel and countless heaps of rotting grass cuttings. A dog that was wandering along the pavement in front of them, came to what was left of a concrete gate post of the house. Sniffed the post and cocked its leg. A trickle of pee slowly made its way to where Sue was standing. Seeing the dog, Sue clicked her fingers, the dog gave her an inquisitive look, and continued its meanderings down the street. As the dog disappeared out of sight, Sue once more gave a searching look at what she had travelled so far to see. Trying to put some order into what she was looking at. Seeing as to what had been said earlier, she had to agree that it was no more than a rubbish dump, what had once been someone's front garden, no doubt carefully taken care of. With the house gone, the front garden had now integrated itself with the back. A close weave high wooden fence separating this area from its more fortunate neighbour. A tall leafy tree standing in what was the corner of the garden was the only survivor that had born witness to that terrible night. It was a grim reality to imagine what tragic event had taken place here over seventy years ago. Like so many others around the country at that time. By a pilot who was most likely as scared as the people on the ground. To get back to his base and family in . While trying to escape the beams of the searchlights that were flicking over his aircraft. That was trying to bring about his demise. When he released that fatal bomb. Sue wondered if the pilot had survived the war. Unlike the unfortunate occupiers of the house that once stood on this site. He must be in his nineties or so by now. She could not help but wondering at this time, if there really was another side to life after death. Would that pilot be saying sorry, to those he blew to kingdom come? Turning away from the starkness of the site to Dougie as he declared, ‘like I said, it's not all that to look at, but on that night as I told you it was certainly very

different. I still find it difficult to believe in what I actually saw. While now, I just feel like a fool showing you this. So what do you think?’ Pursing his lips, and nodding his head towards the shambling bleakness in front of them. ‘I can certainly feel how you must have felt on that night. You must have been thinking that you were in the middle of some kind of nightmare. Wishing you could wake up. The trouble being, you were totally awake. Trying to believe what was happening was not true. So don't worry yourself about that. You ed us, and that's the main thing. Leave the rest to us. Anyhow for now, let's get a picture of you standing in the middle of this bomb site.’ Dougie walked a few feet onto the rubbish strewn area. Turned around as Sue edged back to the curb. While making the necessary setting to her digital camera for wide angle and auto. ‘Okay, I'll just take a couple of the site itself, with you in it. Also a few pictures of the neighbouring houses. It will give us a good idea of what the bombed house must have looked like at one time. This will keep our art department happy. So they can get a good idea as to what it's all about. I guess that's all we can do.’ As they started their walked back to where they had just come from, Dougie with a wry and somewhat bemused expression on his face turned to Sue, looking also a trifle worried. Said, ‘I hope that you are not too disappointed. I can certainly understand if you were, if I was in your shoes, so to speak. It's difficult to believe that there was a house there at all.’ Pausing to say while looking back at what Sue had come so far to see, ‘so where do we go from here?’ ‘Not at all, but first first things first,’ said Sue. ‘How about you and your wife having lunch on me, or should I say Cosmos productions with all their millions?’ ‘It's nice of you to ask, except the wife insisted on cooking up her favourite dish for you. As she said, you're bound to be hungry having come all this way.’ Sue not wishing to be ungrateful, accepted. Going on to say, that she would buy them a good bottle of wine from an off license she had noticed on ing, to where they had just been earlier that morning. Sue knew as soon as they arrived back, as the door opened. She was not about to be disappointed with the lunch on offer. Nor would Sue's father, had he been there. As coincidence would have it, lunch was a steak and kidney pie on par with what she had become used to. When the unhurried lunch drew to a close with Sue

telling Dougie’s wife how much she appreciated the delicious cooking and having to decline the apple pie on offer, Sue, rising from the table, said she would be in touch within the coming week. A taxi was summoned to take her back to the airport to catch the return shuttle to London. She was hoping to be on time for the 4 o'clock flight. Having made it back to the airport, and getting the flight she had hoped for. She was now sitting back once more in a window seat awaiting for take off. As the last few engers boarded, she had just started to browse through the Daily Telegraph that had been given to her earlier on, but had not yet had time to read when a sudden thought entered her head. Would that purveyor of the newspaper she was about to read, could also be on this flight? Before her subconscious could throw up another random musing. It was not her inner mind that she was hearing. When a voice from the aisle said, ‘I take it that this seat is not taken? I thought I had missed the four o'clock flight.’ As he slipped into the seat next to her.

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‘It’s Ted isn't it, if I correctly.’ Smiled Sue, ‘I still haven't got round to reading that newspaper you so kindly gave me.’ ‘You ed, yes you're right it's Ted, Ted Howeard, with an e. And if I'm ing correctly, it’s Sue I believe. I was wondering if I would see you on the way back. Looks like I have.’ ‘I would say that you have got that one right too. Yes, that’s me, Sue, Sue Jameson. Successful trip?’ ‘If you want to know the truth, it was all a bit of a waste of time actually. But that's another story, how about yourself.’ ‘Well for me, I guess I can say that mission was accomplished.’ Sue was already thinking on how she might reply to what he might be asking next. That question, that was bound to come along. Her new acquaintance would be asking, what was her mission? To give herself more thinking time, expressed sympathy for his lack of success. Saying, ‘sorry to hear that.’ While conversation was on her side. Thinking it would be a good idea to ask what he actually did?

Before she was able to put that pertinent question into words, he was saying. ‘Thanks for your solicitude. What is it that you're so successful at?’ Given the oddity to what was her line of work. At the same time thinking what kind of job title she could give herself. What seemed to fit the bill, by saying, ‘I’m on the production side of TV.’ ‘Are you, that sounds a lot more interesting as to what I do.’ ‘Which is?’ ‘Me I'm a... what do you think?’ This new fellow enger said, with a grin. ‘Oh, I see.’ said Sue. Knowing that this was turning into somewhat of a chat-up line. At least it was a fairly original one, she thought. Playing the game said, ‘how many questions do I get? And should I manage to answer correctly, what prize do I get?’ ‘Let's say twenty, that should take us all the way to Heathrow. Should you be clever enough to find out what I do. The grand prize will be me asking, if you’ll have dinner with me?’ Giving this new person in her life a quick appraisal said, ‘how can a girl say no to that. Let me see, tinker, tailor, soldier?’ Before she had the chance to utter the word spy. They were told to make sure their seats were in an upright position, and that seat belts were fastened and that take off was imminent. ‘As I was about to say, spy.’ ‘James Bond I'm not, sorry to disappoint you, but I do like John Le Carre. If that is any help?’ ‘Okay, I give up, but you can still buy me dinner. So just what is it that you do?’ ‘Not dissimilar from you I guess. If TV production is part of the media world, of course.’ ‘Not part of the media world did I hear you say?’ Sue replied, raising her

eyebrows at that. ‘Sorry for seeming so crass, please forgive me. I wasn't meaning to look down on TV, what I was trying to say.’ ‘Please do tell me.’ Said Sue with some emphasis in her voice, with her eyebrows raised once more.’ Ted looking suitably taken back. Murmured, ‘steam radio, sometimes known as the BBC.’ ‘Never heard of them, sorry just joking. What is it that you actually do at the beeb?... Read the news?’ ‘Sometimes I wish that I actually did. No I work on the bit called the BBC World Service. Though it's the world service, so far I haven't got to see much of the world, apart from Scotland earlier today.’ ‘Personally I would say you're the one with the more interesting line of work.’ Before she realised it, she was telling Ted she had once been a freelance journalist. That she had once worked for one of the Sundays. Before finding her way into TV production. With the added enticement of a greatly increased pay packet. Which was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Ted with the artfulness and guile, that only other radio reporters seem to possess. Saying only such words as, go on, how interesting. Plus the occasional, I see. When Ted finally got around to stealthily asking, ‘what is it that you actually do in TV production?’ That was when Sue realised how good Ted was at his job. ‘So more to the point, what are you working on at the moment? If that’s not a state secret.’ Just wondering how much she should reveal. But knowing in about a couple of weeks it was all about to become public knowledge. That a few superficial details would do no harm. ‘It's a programme on the unexplained. From anything that goes bump in the night to... Whatever.’ Seeing an opportunity to turn the tables a little on her new found friend. Enabling her to use her own, and not so inconsiderable interviewing techniques, quickly went on to say. ‘What surprised

us, and without even going outside to the world in general. Adverts had been placed in local papers up and down country. Even before checking what results they might have come up with. My boss, a complete sceptic on such matters. Or to give him his more correct title the creative director of this would be show. Had himself experienced something that was just a little odd. Even myself come to that.’ Sue smiled. Before he got to ask her to elaborate on these experiences. Sue was quick to ask, ‘what about yourself, in this area?’ ‘It’s not something that I have given much credence too. But now you mention it. There is something that has given me cause for thought...’ Quickly adding, ‘this doesn't mean I suddenly become a convert to this quirky world of yours that you’re investigating. I'm sure you've noticed, should you like most people have looked at one of the newspaper’s websites. And you usually find at least once a week that someone has seen a ghost, or some other kind of apparition. More often than not, backed up with evidence from their mobile phone. And that you have to it nor deny, when it’s there for you to see on your own digital device. And not only that, it’s there for the whole world to see, at what they have been experiencing first hand. While not forgetting, that should you have half a dozen or more people having the same unexplainable whatever, over a period of time. Yes, there is something rather peculiar going on. Something above our normal understanding of things. Now to take this even further if you think of a court of law, where you might have half a dozen witnesses or so. Witnessing some crime or other, that would be sufficient evidence for a conviction. But I'm afraid in the world that you are investigating. People would just laugh, and more than likely say, that you’re nuts, or the suchlike.’ ‘What you say I guess is very true. A well observed observation. I will certainly suggest that what you have just said could be used. Especially if we get our presenter to use it in his introduction.’ ‘No need to quote me in your credits.’Grinned Ted. ‘But if I may, I just like to make one more observation.’ ‘Please do, I can't wait.’ Said a now very curious Sue. ‘Why is it, that when you say to someone or somebody, for you to ask if they believe in ghosts? Most would say in a condescending way, would answer no, and quickly change the subject. Why is that?’

‘It's funny you mention that, and you could say it’s a bit of a coincidence. I was only asking more or less the same question at a Sunday lunch, I went to only this weekend.’ ‘So what could possibly be your answer to this question, that we find so intriguing.’ ‘My answer? Well speaking from the top of my head as they say. Just this, I suppose if you answered yes. You would most likely feel, if only to yourself a little foolish. And the individual who asked you the question in the first place. Would perhaps reach the conclusion that you are a little gullible.’ ‘Yes, I tend to agree with you.’ ‘Since you've got me thinking in this direction. I'll tell you what. The next time someone asked me that rhetorical question. I will say yes, and see what happens. It will be all your fault if nobody ever takes me seriously again.’ ‘Don't worry I'll go on believing you, even if no one else will.’ Said Sue with a look of amusement spreading across her face. ‘I guess what you have just said has an element of truth. One might think that you’re asking after their most intimate secrets, or the like. For the reaction you could possibly get from some people. But don't ever think, that you might get what could be called an intelligent answer. More than likely a quick change of subject.’ Before any more rumination could take place they were told once again to put their seats in the upright position for landing, and have your seat belts fastened followed a few minutes later by a clonking sound as the undercarriage was lowered. The aircraft banked, bringing into view the familiar sight of Windsor Castle. ‘There you go.’ said Ted pointing a finger at the castle before it disappeared from view, ‘I reading somewhere that the Queen has more than her fair share of ghosts at the castle. Not surprising really, if you know anything at all about British history. Must be about 1000 years or so of eerie and spooky sightings. Anyhow it looks like we are just about to land. Before you disappear, can I offer you a ride back into London or where ever you want to go?’ Sue immediately knew that she found Ted quite attractive. So it was quite easy for her to come to a decision. While the other half of her brain, which she really

did not want to hear, was saying, do not make yourself so available. As silly as it sounded, he did say, after all that he worked for the Beeb. Before she knew it, she was saying with a big smile, ‘that would be good. I won't be taking you out of your way will I? You must be heading to Bush House I guess? Or did I hear that you have moved from there. I'm not very up-to-date on such things. If you like, drop me in Knightsbridge. I’ll get on the tube from there, that's only a couple of stops to Piccadilly. Which leaves you free to turn left at Hyde Park Corner. As the only other BBC I know is in Portland Place.’ ‘Well the one thing I can say for sure about you. You certainly know your way around London. Yes, you're right, the move from Bush House was way back, certainly before I got around to ing them. The BBC you’re talking about, as you know is in Portland Place. Okay, so it's Knightsbridge tube for you would be my guess?’ ‘If that's okay with you, that's okay with me.’ replied Sue. On landing they took the courtesy bus over to the long-term car park. With in minutes they were driving out of Heathrow, in Ted’s less than new Toyota, making their way onto the M4 in the general direction of London. Ted was now having to concentrate on the high-speed traffic on the M4. Small talk was just that, small talk. Though ing to ask Sue to write down her mobile number before alighting in Knightsbridge. At the same time promising to arrange that dinner date. Bringing the car to a halt on a double yellow line just opposite, to the entrance of Knightsbridge tube station, ‘This is about as close as I dare get you, so if you can jump out pretty quickly, as already I can see an eagle eye traffic warden heading in my direction.’ Managing to say a quick goodbye as she slammed the car door shut behind her. Well that certainly made an unexpected and fun end to my trip to Scotland if nothing else, she contemplated to herself while waiting to cross a busy Brompton Road to the tube station entrance as she watched her new acquaintance’s car disappear in the frenzied beginnings of rush hour traffic.

Chapter 10

Taking her usual walk from Piccadilly tube station, as it was still the earlier part of the evening the route took on a completely different character with Shaftesbury Avenue itself now crowded with workers making their way home. As it was still daylight, Sue decided to take the shortcuts through the alleyways of Soho that she usually took in the morning and which were now coming to life. With sexy photographs being hung on the walls of the various doorways that she ed. Even getting a smile from some of the hostesses standing by these doorways prospecting for early customers. Sue finally made her way back to Wardour Street and the Cosmos building. The receptionist come secretary had as always departed on the stroke of five thirty. Mike was nowhere to be seen. This was made further evident as there was no sign of the familiar leather jacket or battered briefcase. It did not take much guessing on her part to know where Mike had headed. He was a man of fixed locations as far as pubs were concerned, very rarely giving his custom to any other watering hole. There was a note stuck on her computer screen. A request from Jim of Mac fame, sometimes known as Mac the knife. If she could put the memory card from her camera in an envelope and leave it on his desk in front of his computer. So he could the Scottish pics she had taken the first thing tomorrow. Better than that she thought, as she removed the memory card from the camera, putting it into her bag. You can have it as soon as I’ve made my way to where I’m sure you are. Not only that I can be rewarded with a nice cool glass of wine. With that thought alone, she quickly made her way out of the building. Sue felt sure that the final straw that had convinced Mike to come to work at Cosmos was its convenient distance to his favourite pub. A conclusion she reached as she ed the front of one of her favourite places, which happen to be the only original shop left in that street. the “Algerian Coffee Store” at the same time catching the unmistakable aroma of freshly ground coffee as a customer exited, which gradually faded as she crossed over to the other side of Old Compton Street to make her way up to the next corner where a crowd of dedicated smokers stood in front of the pub and to where that much deserved cold white wine would be waiting. It was a day which could happily only be termed as very pleasant. On reaching the pub, she saw Mike at the bar trying to get himself served.

Managing to catch his eye at the same time giving a wave. And raising her voice over the general hubbub of the place. ‘Make mine a Chardonnay, Mike.’ Mike on hearing Sue’s voice turned around, nodding his head towards the window. ‘I'm over there with Jim, at least Jim is. I'll bring them over.’ By the time Sue had squeezed her way over to where Jim was standing. Mike was making his way back towards the window with red and white wine, plus Jim’s half a lager. To where Sue was now standing with Jim. Sue reached over and took her glass of white wine. Jim in the meantime was complaining why is it they only serve larger in half pints here, you can't even get a decent bitter. ‘It's so that they keep piss artists like you in check, so stop complaining.’ Was Mike’s quick reply, ‘and us wine connoisseurs can appreciate our tipple in a refined atmosphere.’ ‘Refined.’ retorted Jim. ‘This bunch of have-beens, refined? Sue is of course not included in that remark.’ While laughing into his beer, at the same time taking a healthy gulp, making another visit to the bar imminent. ‘Sorry about Jim, Sue. Beer drinkers I ask you, cheers. Anyhow, how was bonny Scotland?’ said Mike, while taking a sip of his red wine. ‘All very pleasant and sunny, quite unlike the gloomy Scottish weather I was imagining. Plus a delicious home cooked lunch. But what I guess you are really asking, how was our Mr Simpson? My first impression was that he was not the kind of person who would exaggerate, or make up some kind of wild story. He basically reiterated what he said in the letter he sent us. He took me to the bomb site that he described in the letter. I took a few pics of him standing in the middle of it. And some of the immediate surroundings. In fact I'll give you the memory card now Jim, before I forget. Don't hold your breath about the pictures, as I said there's not that much to look at. These digital cameras are wonderful. You hardly know you’ve got a camera with you unlike some of those old film cameras I had to carry around in the past. They seemed to weigh half a ton, when they've been on your shoulder most of the day. And you don't have to hang around all day for the film to be processed.’ ‘Thanks Sue, we’ll soon see.’ Said Jim slipping the memory card envelope into one of the many pockets of his sleeveless fishing come shooting jacket, that Jim tended to favour. ‘I’ll give you a call sometime tomorrow morning, and will see

what we can do with them. Okay who’s for a refill?’ ‘Let me, I can see that not even wild horses are going to drag you two away. And I've got to get myself back to Fulham.’ Before waiting for an answer, and quickly finishing off her own drink, Sue made her move towards the bar, easing her way through the drinkers. With a flirty smile and a breathless excuse me. Was able to gain the attention of the barman, and order the required drinks. Asking for two halves of lager for Jim, until the barman told her that they could now give it to you in a pint glass, due to the lack of bar staff caused by the virus. With a little bit of difficulty found her way back in reverse order to where they were draining their glasses. ‘So we can see who's favourite here.’ said Mike nodding his head in the direction of Jim’s beer, and then going on to say in some surprise, how come his beer is in a pint glass? I guess we missed reading an article in one of the newspapers the other day that this pub after some hundred years is letting their customers have their beer in pint glasses, so the barman informed me. I was going to come back with two halves, but as you can see it's a pint.‘It’s just to keep Jim happy, should Jim come to the conclusion that he thinks my snapshots are out of focus or something. Anyhow I'm off, catch you both in the morning.’ ‘Mind how you go.’ said Mike as they watched her wind her way out of the crowded pub, through the smokers who were standing outside on the pavement, where many seem to be trying to decide which hand to hold their glasses of wine, or a cigarette. Finally heading down one of the more respectable streets of Soho, in the direction of Shaftesbury Avenue, and on to Piccadilly Circus to the tube and home. ‘Some girl.’ said Jim. ‘That was certainly a lucky find to keep you in your place.’ ‘For once I have to agree with you.’

Chapter 11

Sue as usual was in her office just before nine, earlier than the required time of nine thirty, when the rest of the Cosmos workforce turned up. Being in the position she was, her work hours were very loose, they were never questioned. This arrangement suited Sue fine, having become very used to a flexible lifestyle during her freelance days. With the schedule getting ever closer, the first programme was meant to be aired in the early autumn. On occasions Sue found herself at work just after seven. Fortunately this was not one of those days. Whatever the time was, it was that first hit of coffee she needed. The aroma of the freshly brewed coffee was making itself known, ready to be poured, and the day started. The coffee still a little too hot to be drunk, sat on her desktop. Letting her meditate over yesterday's turn of events. At the same time trying to make sense of what she had been drawn into. On reflection, had it not been for this change of direction, from journalism to TV production, this unknown and disturbing path would have never have made its presence felt. Where her work could be no longer be separated from what was once called her private life. One had encroached on the other. An entirely unexpected development. Now trying to figure out how all this came about. Thinking it was somewhat like an accident, you never see it coming. Once she had to it, as being hard bitten as the rest of her colleagues in days from not so long ago. The feeling now was that her feet were barely touching the ground, as they once had. This was all just a little disconcerting, after years of knowing what was what, or so she thought. It was sometime after ten thirty, when her internal phone line burst into life. Quickly taking a sip of the second coffee of the morning, before answering. Thinking this could be the moment when she was about to find out on how her Scottish photos had turned out. ‘Hi, Sue here. Oh Jim, morning, you're still alive after last night I guess?’ ‘Fine, we just had a couple more, and went to eat. Anyhow, why I'm calling, I thought you would like to see the shots you took on your Scottish trip. I come up, or you come down?’

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‘I’ll just finish my coffee, and I'll be right with you in just a couple of minutes.’ Swallowing down and savouring the last few dregs, I guess this is the moment of truth, Sue said to nobody but herself, ‘I’m about to find out one way or the other that my shots are in reasonable focus, if nothing else.’ Made her way down the stairs rather than use the lift, to Jim’s office in the art department, that was only a couple of floors down. Walked across the floor of the art department to the cubicle where Jim worked his magic with Photoshop. As she pushed open the door, Jim who was staring intently at the computer screen. Now spun around in his chair to face Sue, at the same time saying, ‘Wow, you certainly kept that a secret. And there I was thinking it was just going to be pictures of a boring bomb-site, how wrong could I’ve been!’ Sue now somewhat mystified, drew closer to see what had evoked such a surprise from Jim. Before she could look over Jim’s shoulder at the screen. Jim went on to say, ‘you didn't say what a beautiful lady you had taken a picture of up there. I think I might even print that one out, and pin it on the wall.’ Sue was now close enough to look at the computer screen, giving an involuntary gasp, as to what was confronting her. Only to stare back in complete disbelief at Jim’s computer. Now completely transfixed, the knuckles of her hand gleaming white as she gripped the back of Jim's chair. Her mind now tumbling totally out of control. The face of Jackie, but simply a disquieting aberration of the Jackie she thought she knew, filling most of the screen. It was no longer the derelict bomb site she had photographed only yesterday, which was described in that letter. It was the unmistakable beauty of Jackie looking fixedly at something that was beyond the area of the screen. Sue could see that Jim was speaking, but was unable to hear as her vision darkened going into blackness as a cold shiver travelled down her spine. As her consciousness began spiralling into an oblivion of nothingness. ‘Sue, Sue.’ As she's started to regain her hearing, she began to hear, almost as an echo, as Jim was repeating her name. Sue had slumped down on to a nearby chair. Pushed herself upright, opened her eyes and feeling very disorientated as the blackness receded. Jim now looking very concerned on seeing her ashen face, going on to say, ‘are you okay Sue? You've just looked as if you have just

seen a ghost!’ Sue now feeling slightly foolish, at the same time trying to gather her wits together, before replying. ‘Yes, err... No. Sorry Jim what did you say?’ ‘Just that you looked a little... Distressed or something.’ Sue now trying desperately to understand what had happened, together with her nerves. To look at something that was surely could not be possible. Willing herself to look once more at the screen. Jackie, only it couldn’t be, but it was. As she continued to force herself to scrutinise the inconceivable. Yes, it was Jackie that was undeniable, except it was a Jackie of the 1940s. Emphasised by a scarf that could just be perceived framing her head, which appeared to be tied tightly under the chin. While the face wore the make-up that was fashionable of that time. What suddenly occurred to her that Jim or come to that Mike, had never seen Jackie. Ruling out any possible Photoshop manipulation. For some reason that even herself did not understand. She had fortunately stopped herself from saying “I know that person.” Instead said, ‘I think I've eaten something that has not agreed with me.’ Going on to say, ‘sorry Jim about that, could you tell Mike that I've gone back home before I fall flat on my face once again. I'll give him a call also, once I've got myself back home. I think he's in a meeting with the programme planners at the moment.’ ‘No problem Sue, get yourself home, and put your feet up, your pictures are fine. Just what we wanted.’ Quickly exiting from Jim's domain, where everybody seem to be concentrating on their computer screens, hardly noticing her rapid if not shaky departure. While Jim was once again entranced by the face on his computer screen, rather than the more mundane one’s of the actual desolate bomb site. Sue went back up to her floor, using the stairs. Rather than face meeting someone in the lift, and being forced into some inane conversation while her brain was still spinning so wildly. Together with her rapidly beating heart. Knowing that just one more piece of information no matter how innocuous would crash her mind faster than the PC she had once owned. Finally reaching the comparative calm of the office, with the added bonus of the receptionist being absent from her desk. That she began to regain some of her sanity. When only moments ago she had thought her saneness had abandoned her for good. Grabbing her jacket headed for the stairs once more, taking the few flights down to the street. Where even the less than

fresh air of Wardour Street was a welcome relief. Looking up at the darkening sky as spots of rain began to fall, she crossed the road to turn left into Old Compton Street. Was about to her favourite coffeeshop decided to go in and stock up with more coffee beans, where the friendly smile of the shop assistant helped to bring herself closer to normality. Leaving the shop a few minutes later with the required coffee beans. The road was now shimmering with the reflected light of the garish neon signs of Soho. Scanning the road both ways saw a cab pulling up only a few steps away letting off a enger. Managing to just beat another would-be enger to the door of the taxi. ‘Where to miss?’ ‘Fulham please, first right before Fulham tube.’ It was with a feeling of relief as she began to unwind in the comfort of the taxi. Giving herself a much needed moment of calm to try and put some acceptable explanation to corroborate what she was still finding hard to believe was true. She had always thought that her nature was fairly unflappable. During her newspaper days she had witnessed more than her fair share of disaster and drama. Taking it all in her stride. The complete professional, or so she thought till now. That image of Jackie still very much in the forefront of her mind. But actually ing out. That itself was all most too much to bear. So embarrassing, now realising how such a traumatic event had caused such an unexpected shut down of her senses. By the time it took the taxi to go past Buckingham Palace, all she could do was to stare out of the rain specked windows at the blurry green of St James's Park. Her mind as blank as when she had got into the cab. ‘There you go miss... miss you’re here.’

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‘Oh sorry, I was miles away, keep the change.’ Getting out of the taxi, hesitating at the curb while looking at her front door. Wondering what to do next, with her mind still in turmoil as she turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open made her way to the kitchen. What had come more than apparent was a much needed cup of strong coffee. Leaving the kitchen with the required coffee headed

to the welcoming sofa. Giving a deep sigh of relief, as she kicked off her shoes, stretched her legs out on the sofa, and taking the first sip of the much needed coffee. Closed her eyes while appreciating the moment. It felt that the coffee had never tasted so good. Causing her to that lunchtime cappuccino when she had first met up with Jackie. Of course it was then that Jackie was relating her dream and the lookalike girl who was all part of that dream. Only to immediately onish herself that there could possibly be a connection with the girl of Jackie's dream, and her own too startling apparition of the face that had presented itself on Jim's computer screen, much to her consternation. But the more she thought about it the stronger the feeling became that perhaps it was no coincidence. Coinciding only too well, not only with the girl of the dream, at the same time not forgetting the Scottish apparition that had compelled the writing of the letter that even had affected Mike. Sue immediately began to wonder where all this was going to lead, leaving her with a feeling of disquiet. Whether she liked it or not it was becoming very personal. She had become one of the band of people who had a personal encounter with what was termed as the paranormal. What was even more disconcerting, at the same time only being too aware as to what she knew, was only too true. She had had brushes with what was usually termed as the supernatural, as most journalists do. That normally ended up as space fillers, followed by bit of a laugh over a glass of wine or two. While reminiscing with fellow colleagues. What she had recently confronted was in no way amusing. Knowing all too well that this incident would be with her for ever. It went far beyond the putting together of a TV documentary. Should she speak of what had happened, even to the closest of friends, especially those who inhabited the media world. And the story getting loose in one of the more racy tabloids, it would be a nightmare of unspeakable proportion. She now understood how people who held responsible jobs such as airline pilots and alike, would rather not say anything to anybody, should they have a close encounter with say a UFO. It was just not worth it. It was something that could affect your career even for the most well intentioned person. It was all very much of a bleak thought. The reality of the house phone ringing brought her consciousness back to the immediate future. One ring, two rings, three, four more. Demanding she should perhaps answer it. It was with some apprehension as she picked up the receiver, slowly bringing it up to her ear. Hoping that the caller would hang-up. But went on to say a soft ‘hello.’ It was a voice that she did not instantly recognise. A voice that was hesitant, before another hello, followed by... ‘It's me Ted, .’

Sue pulling herself together, as she sat herself up from the sofa. Speaking in a more normal voice. ‘Yes, of course how are you?’ ‘Me I'm fine, but how about you? I called your office when I couldn't get you on your mobile. I guess it was Mike who gave it to me, when I explained that I did have your mobile number, telling him how we met on the plane. He sounded a little bit worried about you. I guess that's why he gave me your other telephone number. I hope you don't mind.’ ‘No, of course not. It's my fault, I guess I forgot to turn it back on again. Well it's nice to know that Mike cares. Which reminds me I should call him to explain my disappearance.’ ‘Why I called, apart from seeing how you are. And to see if you fancy a drink this evening, perhaps some dinner later, if you feel up to it?’ ‘Look I'm not feeling my best, though I wouldn't mind a drink later if you like. There's a wine bar just around the corner from here. So if you're into that come on over. Say about six thirtyish if that's not too early. There’s a happy hour around that time. I'll give you my address.’ ‘Okay, look forward to it, bye.’ Putting the phone down, suddenly felt a lot better. At least a glass of wine would be just about right, she said to herself. Also to chat, and to think about the normal world would be no small relief. And even perhaps to expel that image of Jackie's face which was beginning to manifest and impinge on her subconscious. Trying to evaluate as to what had happened over the last few hours was no easy task. Was she going to mention all this to Ted? If so, how? In all seriousness it was not a topic that was so easy to discuss. But strangely enough, ing the conversation on the journey back to London with Ted. He was the only person that she had discussed the bewildering nature of her job in any kind of way. That were now beginning to encircle her, since the involvement with the documentary she was working on. What was she trying to do? She mused to herself. Would Ted actually believe her story, should she make that decision. It would certainly feel good to share this disquieting turn of events with someone. And that someone could well be Ted. Hoping at least for a sympathetic ear. Putting herself as the third person was a thought. Maybe that was the only way to put her house in order. Before having to confront Ted with

her predicament, if that was the road she was prepared to go down. Though for a more apt description, she was playing the devils advocate, she could not help but think. If just for the sake of argument, she contemplated. Should she happened to be a witness, to what had happened. Quickly thinking no, that just does not make sense. If she was, she would've hardly noticed that the face was anything but real. It would have been just that, a face. Or in the case of Jim as far as he was concerned, a very beautiful face. You don't exactly think the image you see on the computer monitor was anything to do with the paranormal. Having thought that particular argument through and realising that it didn't even come close. You would not even mention it to your closest friend that the image they were looking at, was not exactly real in reality. Once again thinking that the conversation she would soon be having with him at the wine bar should take this direction. Letting him become part and parcel of this worrisome day. Spilling everything out, would this be the way to go? But what would Ted’s reaction be? One thing for sure she did know, was that she cared for what he might think. The big if, she realised without some trepidation. Would she be able to master enough nerve to proceed down this rather dubious path of conversation. Putting her coffee down on the floor, it was becoming obvious she was quickly running out of further solutions. With nothing on the horizon of the minds eye for the ultimate solution to this pressing problem. She was now losing her grip on reality, which was once taken for granted. Glancing at the clock on the wall saw that it was only just gone two. A mental exhaustion finally took over mind and body. From drowsiness into sleep. Some two or more hours later, Sue’s eyes flickered open. At first not comprehending as to where she was. A bleak form of loneliness swept over her. An isolation from what was only too real. The frightening thought of no longer being in control. Split seconds later everything came cascading back in a labyrinth of confusion. This disorientation rapidly dissolving into the reality as her eyes glimpsed at the clock. The hands were now moving closer to five thirty. Making Sue quickly move from a prone position to a scramble to her feet. ‘Move yourself girl.’ Said Sue, murmuring to herself as she made her way to the bathroom for the most rapid of makeovers. With practised ease she made herself more or less able if not totally presentable. While at the same time wishing she could only make what was going on inside her head as presentable as her face. What would Ted’s reaction be, should she decide to go ahead, and mention today's strange experience? Still very much uncertain to which path to take, turned away from the bathroom mirror, made her way back into the sitting room. With the hope that perhaps a glass of wine would somehow give her the strength to make the right decision.

The one thing she knew for certain, that there was not much in the way of choice once taken there could be no turning back, to anything like a normal reality that was once taken for granted.

Chapter 12

After retrieving all her necessary bits and pieces from the London flat where she had been staying, it was an uneventful coach ride from London’s Victoria Coach station to Cambridge. Jackie had a feeling of some relief to see once more the reassuring ancient stone walls of the university buildings. Having stopped off in Cambridge town centre first for lunch, afterwards getting some necessary shopping. It was beginning to get towards the end of the afternoon when she finally pushed open the door of her room come study. Catching her eye, there on the floor laying in a patch of sunlight, was a folded beige coloured sheet of paper. That had been pushed under the door since she had been away. From its beige colour, instantly recognisable as coming from her tutor. Putting down her bag and shopping. Picked up the missive from the floor. Crossing over to the gabled window that was no more than a few steps away, sat a heavy oak table that was covered in books and papers, together with a solitary white mug. Sitting down at one of the two chairs that were at the table. That same shaft of sunlight that had spotlighted the note on the floor was now giving her sufficient light to read by, in the otherwise darkening room. With some apprehension slowly unfolded the paper. Quickly reading it, and seeing it was no more than a summons to her tutor’s study first thing in the morning. Knowing that from past experience that first thing, was considered to be ten. No sooner, no later. Excuses were not acceptable. Fellow students did not consider the first calling to be one of the best times to have an audience with the very revered professor Toms. It was said that he existed on a diet of vintage port and Stilton cheese. It was generally assumed that any student who found themselves in that slot tended to get the short end of the stick. What nobody could deny, was that all his credentials were very much blue-chip. That quickly became apparent on entering his study. In amongst the notes to himself on that nicotine coloured paper he favoured, were newspaper and magazine clippings, some yellowing with age. Were interspersed among black and white photographs. Some framed, some not, standing and shaking hands with world leaders. The clippings and unframed photos were thumb tacked to the dark brown cork wall. Many could have been there for decades. Without fail, students who were summoned to his study were duly impressed. Some went as far to say that he even knew Einstein himself. Others said, it was only a cultivated look. Professor Toms was very much of the

old school. This was enhanced by the fragrance of his pipe tobacco, competing with the lingering odour of snuff, or was it just some piquant aftershave? Always very much in evidence when you entered his domain. As yet no one had the effrontery to mentioning the subject of smoking in the workplace. It was at the appointed hour next morning that Jackie now feeling suitably refreshed after a dreamless sleep, tapped tentatively on professors Toms door. Failing to get an immediate answer was about to raise her knuckles once more when his voice penetrated the aged oak door. ‘Enter.’ Or to Jackie ears, enter sounded more like entorr. Turning the doorknob while pushing against a brass plate, and silently closing the door behind her, clasped her papers and folders ever closer to her body nervously entered the study, together with her ever persistent apprehension. What sounded like a disinterred voice, that came from over by the window from where the sun was streaming into the room. At the same time flaring into Jackie's eyes, made it difficult to make out exactly where the voice was enumerating from. In a flash of incomprehensible imagination Jackie had a vision. The voice appeared to be coming from the sun itself. Toms was God. In an equally nano second of reality, Jackie's mind if not her feet were back on the floor of professor Toms study. Toms voice once again came over from what was a sunny oasis by the window. ‘Be a dear would you, bring the coffee pot over with you... If you want a coffee, get yourself a mug. Milk, sugar, already with me.’ Jackie's eye’s, having become adjusted to the light looked quickly around the room. Spying the coffee pot on a small table by the wall to her left. That was given over to the professors domestic life. There were clean cups, and ones for washing, also glasses giving evidence of possible teatime or cocktail observations. With her assignments still tucked tightly under her arm, leaving her hand free for her mug, while holding the required coffeepot in the other, Jackie made her way gingerly over in the direction of the window. There she saw what appeared to be an old wooden chest. That served as a coffee table. Professor Toms lower limbs could be seen, while the rest of his body was obscured by a leafy palm alongside a wicker sofa on which he sat. Opposite, an armchair that looked as if it had born some relationship to the sofa. This was where Jackie was directed to sit. It was not quite the welcome she had expected. Having heard tales from the more senior graduates about the wisdom of being

among the first in line for the so-called early morning audience. Jackie’s status of freshman, had no experience of this time slot to fall back on. Only for the moment everything appeared to be the opposite of what she had been expecting, for this early morning tutelage from the much spoken of, professor Toms. Who glanced up, while giving her a wintry smile. Telling her to make herself comfortable and to fill her mug with coffee. ‘Don't look so worried, I'm perfectly aware of my reputation. But I assure you it’s directed unreservedly at my more recalcitrant scholars. And yes, they do tend to get it in the neck from me. So you may look happy on this wonderful sunny morning, so do try to relax. In this, what I call my oasis of tranquillity.’ Not feeling as relaxed as she might like to be, carefully took her mug now filled with coffee up to her lips for the barest of a sip. At the same time giving professor Toms a grateful glimmer of a smile over her raised mug. Having uttered just one word of gratitude, a whispered thank you. While waiting with some apprehension, for his next pronouncement. Professor Toms once more gazed at her. Jackie was beginning to feel more like a mouse in the grasp of a rather malevolent cat. His name, fitted him well. With out further preamble, professor Toms spoke. ‘Last week in my absence one of our other professors in mathematics, his name escapes me for the moment, But that is beside the point. It seems that he set you among other students a mathematical problem that has been beyond the competence of any mathematician in the advance field of mathematics. I was intrigued to see what you, or anybody else could make of it. The paper that you submitted has landed on my desk.’ Toms voice took on a more ominous edge. ‘On appraisal, I was somewhat more than a little surprised, to see what you have managed to come up with, what I found was quite extraordinary. And if I may go on even further, it was even beyond my comprehension. But what I certainly understood, that you have achieved what nobody else has ever been able to do in mathematics long history. I was totally at loss what to think. Perhaps you can enlighten me further. How did you managed to achieve this... inconceivable feat? As for myself, I’m totally at loss as to what to think.’ Jackie at this point had a flashback in time, when Toms mentioned the word beyond my comprehension. They were words well ed from her secondary school days. Words of exasperation that were said by some teachers, to some unfortunate pupil who had a handed in utter rubbish. Toms seeing Jackie

crestfallen expression, hasten to add in a more considerately manner. ‘Please don't miss interpret my words, it is me who is at a loss.’ Toms was not the only one at a loss. Jackie was feeling somewhat distraught herself. Toms in the meantime continue to be totally immersed in Jackie’s calculations. Jackie looked longingly at the sun’s flared view from where she was sitting. How invitingly the green expanse of “The Backs” that stretched down to the Cam beckoned. How wonderful it would be to be punted down the river, than this river of mathematical despair. Only to see a river of no return. Apart from that earlier mumbled thanks, she had not said another word. Turning her gaze away from the window she looked directly at her tutor, catching Toms eye. Slowly taking off his glasses, Toms looked at Jackie with an unblinking stare and with one raised eyebrow and a voice full of indifference, ‘I have the feeling that you're about to install on me, some words of wisdom. That will put an end to my mental discomfort. And dare I say, confusion. Please tell me that I'm correct with that assumption. And I can hopefully once again grasp mathematical normality.’ Holding the coffee mug with both hands hoping it would steady her from the shaky feeling that was beginning to engulf mind and body, going on to take one more tentative sip before saying. ‘I’m also somewhat at loss, it just came to me.’ As soon as the words had escaped her mouth, she could not believe that she had offered such a lame reply. Tom's eyebrows arched even higher. ‘It just came to you! Obviously it was silly of me to have such a naive thought. That I might have had a more enlightened answer. But who am I to have such a notion?’ For what seemed like an indeterminable amount of time with Toms words seemingly hanging in the air. Dissipated by the coming to life of Toms phone, fracturing the silence between them. Abruptly looking away from Jackie and staring hard at the red light blinking in tandem with the sound of the ringing phone. Before picking up the phone with his hand hovering above it, hesitating as he returned his gaze to Jackie saying, ‘I'm sorry Miss Trent, for the time being I think it's better that we continue this conversation at a later date.’

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For what she deemed as a dismissal, Jackie lent forward to slip her papers that were gathered around her unfinished coffee into the folder. Pushed herself out of the armchair, and headed for the door. Closing the door behind her, heaved a sigh of relief. As the almost unbearable tension that she had been feeling during those last few minutes began to evaporate. Nevertheless she realised that she had got herself into a predicament that was difficult to find an answer too. Just how do you tell your tutor who happened to be one of the worlds pre-eminent minds in advanced mathematics. That you are receiving inspiration from the world of dreams. It would be funny, if only it was not true. At the same time thinking it was not possibly the greatest of ideas to have come up with a solution. That was all very well in hindsight she knew, but what was done was unmistakably done. A mathematical enigma that had once been up to now, in the bounds of the implausible, was no longer. And only too aware that a line had been crossed, with any thoughts of recrossing would be futile. It was a relief that she was no longer under the questioning gaze of professor Toms. She knew only too well that she had got herself into a situation that urgently needed some kind of closure. Like a reluctant Alice who did not want to go down the rabbit burrow. The situation she found herself in was not so dissimilar. Apart from the obvious fact that Alice’s dream was story book fiction. And this unreality was only too real. Making her way back from Toms study, felt in her bag for her mobile. Having made quite sure that it was turned off before going into her tutorial. No student in their right mind would have the nerve to leave one on. Just the thought of your mobile coming to life and playing the Oxford boating song or some other melody as a call tone. It was, as someone had said jokingly, the equivalent of telephonic suicide. Clicking the on button, looked at the screen that announced she had two missed calls. Numbers she did not recognise. They can wait until I get back and make myself a coffee, she said to herself putting the phone back into her bag. Having made that one positive step. A complete antithesis of what she had faced earlier that morning. Hoping now that the rest of the day would have a more benevolent flavour.

Chapter 13

Toms stared at his student’s departing back as she retraced her way back to the door. Watching as she closed it behind her, before continuing his conversation. ‘Yes we can speak now. That student who I mentioned to you previously. The very brilliant Trent girl has just left my study only a few minutes ago. What do I think?’ Tom said tersely into the mouthpiece. ‘I've already told you what I think. So perhaps a little more clarity is needed. Let me expand my thoughts a little more plainly to you. To say just this, I’m not at all happy about what you are expecting from me. Nor do I envisage any sympathy from you on that issue. You must give me another day, I'll tell you when!’ Abruptly returning the receiver to its cradle. Staring vacantly at where Jackie had been sitting. Broodily trying to come to with how he got himself into such a fraught situation. It was only some six months ago when he was approached by this individual who called himself Felix Latimer. At first it seemed all very innocent. There was nothing at the time, that was of a suspicious nature. Latimer had said earlier on, that he was head hunting undergraduates that were in the field of advanced mathematical theory, and the like. During a prior encounter he had shown Latimer one of Trent’s papers. That was related to the field of nuclear fusion technology. Without Toms knowledge, he had done some research on Toms background, having first come across Toms at a casino. It was here where he had first started up a conversation with Toms. Having plied Toms with a few drinks, Toms let it slip that he had an ability to count cards. As far as he was concerned the good news was finding out that Toms was a professor of mathematics. It was a foregone conclusion that Toms also had inside knowledge of the most brilliant mathematical students at Cambridge. The Trent girl being one of the most accomplished of his students. Felix now knew for sure that Toms capacity for counting of cards was going to be the perfect solution for what he had in mind. For a casino the game of “Blackjack or 21” could become a nightmare, should a card counter with the ability of Toms, would be able to turn the odds in his favour. Felix had to get Toms into his debt. And his card counting skills for making money could be turned against him. Making him lose more money than he would have thought possible. Felix who had befriended the floor manager was told of Toms and his card counting skills. Allowing him to win several hands one fateful night. But unbeknown to Toms the cards were stacked against

him. Toms went on to bet far heavier than usual. Only this time, the casino was well aware that the stacked cards would be of no help to Toms. The casino would without hesitation give him further credit to regain the money he had lost previously, knowing of his position at the University he would undoubtably repay, to escape any damage to his reputation. The other piece of crucial information that came Felix’s way, was that Toms was on the wrong side of a messy divorce settlement. Stupidly thinking at the time he could beat the casino at cards with his phenomenal memory. But instead leaving him deeply in debt. It was about this time that Felix made him an offer which he was going to find difficult to turn down. If Toms would supply information on his students he would be given a considerable sum of money. Unfortunately this did not stop here. Felix appreciated that this student called Jackie Trent would be exactly what he was looking for. Felix was being paid by a country that would go to extreme measures to ensure that Jackie Trent’s knowledge would be used exclusively by this country alone. She was to be abducted. At first Toms had told him he would have no part in it. Felix went even further in his manipulation of Toms. He was told in no uncertain that something undesirable would happen to his twelve year old daughter. With that point being emphasised when he received in the post, one of his daughters school exercise books, that had a snapshot of her stapled to it. Four days previously he had received a parcel that contained $250,000 in US currency. That had gone some way to pay off his financial nightmare. He now realised there was no way out. Losing his tenure was the least of his worries or far worst, imprisonment would be the more likely outcome, or even death. The following morning two hours earlier than his usual time of ten, Toms once again found himself disconsolately willing his phone to ring, wanting his anxiety to end, picking up his half drunk cup of coffee, hesitating midway as if to draw some fillip of release from the suffocating circumstances that were drawing forever closer. But the reality was all too clear, there was to be no choice. Except to do exactly what he was about to be told. A shot whisky that he had mixed in with his coffee did little to bolster his flagging spirits. With his hand now beginning to shake, poured another shot into his now empty coffee cup, downing it in one gulp. As he put the cup down the red light on the phone started to blink, followed by the ringing tone. ‘Toms.’ He answered, even before putting the receiver to his ear. Toms was nodding his head as if to emphasise to what he was saying. ‘I’ll be there. Yes, alright eleven-ish today, The Eagle.’ With the receiver still at his ear as if frozen in time before slowly replacing it. Getting up from his chair he paced the floor trying to think, and more importantly to give himself

some distance from the beckoning whiskey bottle, that sat on his desk. The pub was not that far from where he was, no more than a ten minute walk. It would be there when he would be told in detail, what would happen next. Having already cancelled any further tutorials for that day, he had little option but to be there at the appointed hour. Some twenty minutes later, Toms left the grounds of Trinity. He walked slowly in the direction of the pub. Hoping that the fresh air would clear his slightly befuddled mind. To try and gather his wits together before having to confront Latimer. On entering the pub which had only just opened, he went straight to the bar ordering nothing more intoxicating than half a bitter. Having had those couple of whiskeys earlier on, he thought it would preferable to keep his head clear. With his drink in hand, he made his way towards the back of the pub, to where Latimer had suggested earlier on, and seeing a table in a far corner went over to it. Some minutes later Latimer entered, first going to the bar coming away with a glass of red wine. Spotting Toms, he walked slowly over to where Toms was sitting. When Toms noticed Latimer, it was like looking at some kind of black aberration. The only colour seemed to be the glint of red wine against his black outfit. As he got closer, Toms saw it was a black leather jacket, over a black polo neck sweater. Toms had still not determined as to what nationality Latimer was. His accent gave no clue. If anything it was public school, his eyes were as dark as his overall look, if anything a little Asian. ‘How good of you to come, I see you’ve got a drink, good,’ said Felix as he slid into the seat opposite Toms. ‘To think that this is the pub that Crick and Watson used to drink at during their research on DNA. It's almost ironic don't you think, that what we will achieve with the mathematical brainpower of the almost unbelievable Miss Jackie Trent will be on par to say the least, on that discovery of theirs.’ At first Toms could not really believe what he was hearing, it was just too surreal and he continued to look blankly at Felix unable to put together any form of response. ‘Firstly my dear professor please do try and relax. Professor Toms is such a mouthful don't you think? Your first name, David so much better.’ Toms was unable to take his gaze away from Latimer as he went on speaking. ‘Me Felix, as you already know of course. Now before this place starts filling up, let's make our arrangements. What I'm about to ask, I'm sure we'll cause you no problem

what so ever. That you, will hold a small cocktail party. Say fifteen or so of your acquaintances, fellow colleagues that kind of thing. And we must not forget of course, our Miss Trent. At about half way through she will leave.’ Felix took a sip of his wine, before continuing. ‘By herself. Before I forget, when introductions are made to the charming Miss Trent you had better introduce me as Felix Latimer. Yes that sounds about right don't you think? If you like you could go on to say, I'm some kind of lecturer from some distant University. My subject should someone ask, psychology. Yes, I rather like that.’ ‘Alone, by herself you mean.’ Said a slightly confused Toms. I know that you are not a professor of English. But I do believe that by herself, does in fact means, alone. Would you not agree?’ ‘What I mean to say, how on earth will you get her to leave?’ Felix now staring intently at Toms, raising a finger away from his wineglass, pointing it at him, as he spoke. ‘This will not be a problem, together with a just a little cooperation from your good self.’ ‘Like what.’ Muttered a worried looking Toms. While wondering what kind of deceit would be asked of him. ‘You could help yourself by not looking so worried all the time. Your part is simplicity itself. By making sure that she's there in the first place. Now that's not too difficult is it? If you could just pay a little more attention for just a moment. This is the time line, or if you like when it will all happen. I will arrive at your cocktail party say about five minutes or so after it has started. As we mentioned just now, as to who I am. Should anybody happen to ask. I take it that you have ed to what I’ve just been saying.’ Toms nodding his head, remaining silent while still staring blankly at Latimer. ‘Good, shortly after I arrive. She’ll make her way out of the door, no one will notice or say anything. One does not ask someone if they are on the way to the toilet or the suchlike. Tell me David, why is it that I’ve caught a look of total disbelief flutter across your face, Mmm? Do you doubt my powers of persuasion, you think I can’t? Even thinking I'm talking rubbish. Let me assure you that I'm not. I think it's time that I cast any further doubt out of your mind. See that chap standing at the bar about to order a drink? Please observe this, shall we say a... Dry run. I'm going to walk over to the bar and order myself a

drink. While I'm there, I'll engage him in conversation. Nice day, that type of thing. I'll return to you immediately with a glass of wine. Within five minutes you will see him walk over to the ladies toilet, and enter. Without a doubt I’m sure you will then believe in what you see. As I will now prove to you.’ Without further a word, Felix sauntered up to the bar watched by the perplexed Toms. Toms saw him ordering his wine from the barman, turn and started to speak to the stranger whom he had pointed out before leaving the table. Paying for his wine, Felix found his way back to where he had been sitting. As Felix settled himself down once more back at the table. Toms with his eyes transfixed on the stranger at the bar that Felix had briefly chatted too. Moments later the man put his beer back down on the bar counter, got off his stool, and as Latimer predicted, strode over to the ladies and watched him enter. Only to emerge some seconds later profusely apologising to some woman as he backed out. Felix with eyebrows raised in mock surprise, looked at Toms saying, ‘perhaps now I’ve made my point a little more clearer.’ Toms having witnessed Felix's post hypnotic suggestion to the stranger at the bar, was even more at a loss as what to think. The victim, or Felix’s demonstration of mind control, was now sitting uneasily at the bar looking vacantly at the door of the ladies toilet. Trying to find an explanation for himself, as to what had actually happened. For Toms it suddenly dawned on him, on what he had seen recently on some TV show. That had featured an illusionist coordinating a similar kind of situation, as happened to that person at the bar. On this occasion, a London taxi cab driver was unable to find his way to a prominent London landmark. It was the London Eye, which stood out over London like the proverbial sore thumb. He was also at a loss, as was that person who had entered the ladies loo. Until the illusionist had told him how his mind had been manipulated. But the man at the bar, remained unenlightened. This conjured up another memory for Toms. It was when he was on a lecture tour in the Far East. He re seeing an in a newspaper of one of the cities he had visited. Where a woman had reported to the police that many of her valuables had been stolen from her flat. When questioned by the police, she said she was approached by a man who engaged her in conversation. Her next recollection was sitting in a chair in her own apartment, realising that she had been robbed. At the time he had given the story scant thought, until now. He now understood how easy it was for Felix to do exactly what he claimed. Having now deduced how anybody not on their guard could be so easily manipulated was a frightening thought in itself. Feeling thoroughly shaken, he

looked at Felix saying. ‘But why do that, I’m somewhat unclear as to why?’ ‘Simplicity David, simplicity. Let me explain, if someone walks out of a room of their own free will, it’s unlikely that anyone will notice. So I won't labour the point any further.’ He carried on to say, ‘it's agreed, yes? Thursday evening of next week. Your cocktail party will start at say seven, I shall arrive just after that appointed time. Just one more thing my friend, and before I forget. My final little present for you as promised. Oh, just one more thing, do try and serve a half decent wine.’ With which Felix rose from the table, to stride out of the pub laughing. Toms look down at the package that sat on the chair beside him. As Felix disappeared out of the door. He was well aware of what it contained, the other half of the payment that Felix had used as bait. A further US$250,000 that he had so eagerly accepted. Before quite realising what the consequences would be. It was only just beginning to sink in. It was when the photos of his daughter turning up in the post, that was the final blow. While not forgetting, the appalling cost it would be to his student, the Trent girl. Watching the door close behind Felix. Nursing the beer that he had hardly touched. Looking at it, as if from the golden liquid some kind of answer would materialise. Knowing now there was no turning back. What had been set in motion could not be stopped. Casting his gaze away from the pub’s door, to the bar. Where the guinea pig of Felix's experiment was still unaware or what he had participated in. Bemused by the fact that he had wandered into the ladies. Quickly swallowing down the rest of the almost untouched beer. If he believed in fate, it was firmly sealed. Pushing his chair away from the table, at the same time picking up the parcel that underlined any lingering doubts as to what he had got himself into he headed to the pub’s doors, ing the bewildered drinker at the bar who it seemed, still had his sight focused on the ladies toilet. And was out onto the streets of Cambridge. He walked as if in a nightmare, back to his study at the college. To start making arrangements for the that cocktail party he had very little appetite for. Felix had left Toms staring into his almost untouched glass of beer, while distinctly looking more ill at ease, and worried. Felix on leaving went to a nearby car park to get his BMW, to drive back to his base in London, where he had made an earlier start that morning. He lived in a small flat on the Holborn side of Covent Garden. Some years previous he attended the “London School of

Economics”, before ing the Foreign Office. Where his skills in being fluent in the Chinese language of Mandarin and Korean, were most sought after by the FO. These skills came from his mother, who was the wife of his late father, who had been with the British diplomatic service. Felix's life at the Foreign Office had been short lived. Being asked to resign only after eighteen months of service. While on duty on the Korean peninsula, like Toms, Felix also had more than a healthy, or some would say an unhealthy craving in the art of speculation. This love of gambling would have not ruffled many feathers at the Foreign Office, it had always been seen as a ion for many of its . But what did catch the eye's of his bosses, was the company that Felix was keeping. Namely a very beautiful Korean girl, that alone would not have raised many eyebrows. Apart from the pangs of jealousy from his fellow colleagues, at least from those on the hetro side of the fence. When called in to explain his behaviour, at the same time being told that his girlfriend came from the wrong side of the Korean divide. He was told in no uncertain to be rid of her fast. This was a message that Felix did not want to hear. Plus the fact that the Korean beauty was now bank rolling his ever expensive lifestyle. It appeared that Felix had indeed rid himself of this embarrassment. He quietly allowed himself to be sent back to the United Kingdom to finally disappear entirely from the public and FO radar. Which for Felix, conveniently happened. His role at the FO had been only junior. But with his bosses at the time deciding it was no more than a youthful indiscretion. At the same time they decided Felix was certainly not FO material. Felix in the meantime was more than happy for this to happen. Though the beautiful girl friend was no longer part of the picture, the money was. By now Felix's life had changed. In fact had changed quite substantially. Before leaving Korea, Felix sold his life style for purely mercenary reasons, not like others before him for some surreal political ideal. Felix cared for little else but money, that was supplied to him in more than substantial amounts. In return, the finding of the most outstanding brains of the academic world, who might well become a future genius. His masters were patient, they were aware he was now ideally placed with his “in” at Cambridge. It was only a matter of time before someone of outstanding brilliance to light up the academic world. Which could only put that nation who was privy to such knowledge, the power to dominate any weaker state, and even possibly change the face of mankind. Felix knew where he was going to get such a person. With the leverage of financial pressure on Professor Toms. Toms had now given him that very person. With the evidence of her extraordinary brilliance to show his masters. All that was required of Felix now was the abduction of this person. He felt sure that there

would be no problem, with the plan that he had already devised. With Toms forthcoming cocktail party getting ever closer. And with Toms firmly locked into position. Felix saw little in the way of opposition. He understood that he had his man. And what he thought as amusing, and to be more correct in the way of gender, the main prize this genius woman.

Chapter 14

It was just after six forty when the door bell rang. Sue had just about re-invented herself, gave a final look in the mirror hoping that what she saw was not what Ted would see. At least the light outside did not have that starkness of the bathroom lighting. Switching off the all telling light, at the same time pulling the door shut behind her, while shouting out. ‘I’m coming.’ Made her way down the stairs to the front door. At the same time thinking that it was not the best of ideas to have flopped out as she had. Turning the door lock, while taking a deep breath before pulling the door open. Where stood a smiling Ted. ‘Come on in, you must forgive me, I must look awful. I'm afraid I just crashed out when I arrived back, should have known better.’ Ted’s smile turning into a look of concern said, ‘look are you sure quite you're okay? I see that you are not your usual smiling self. We could make it on another occasion if you like.’ Sue was now regaining some of her composure while running her fingers nervously through her hair said, ‘god do I look that bad? I guess I’ve looked better, hopefully that what you see will gradually improve. Sorry if I'm rambling on a bit. Come on through.’ As she guided Ted from the front door, through to the living room. While she carried on down to the kitchen, while saying. ‘Let me get you a beer, I'm sure there's one in the fridge.’ Edging his way into the room, going around a sofa that looked as if someone had just been evacuated from it. Sat himself slowly down into its twin arm chair. Which seemed as good a place as any to make himself comfortable. The only other chair in the room was one that was close to a table that the computer was on. Which looked rather frail, thinking that it was more than likely an antique. Not wanting to imagine the possibility of having it disintegrate under him, had he chosen to sit on it. Moments later, before he could take in the rest of the room. Sue entered with a can of “Fosters” that was already beginning to drip with condensation. ‘Hope you don't mind drinking it straight from the can? All my glasses seem to be gathered with the rest of my washing up at the moment.’ ‘Not in the least.’ Said Ted, over the issuing hiss from the beer can being opened

by Sue. ‘I always say there's nothing quite like the first mouth full of ice cold beer, cheers.’ ‘Let me put some sounds on for you. Hope you like the Stones? I've always been a fan of them since my teenage days. Just give me another couple of minutes or so, and we can be out of here.’ As Ted was savouring the last remains of his beer, Sue reappeared to the refrains of, “Look what the cat dragged in.” ‘I guess I couldn't have said that better myself.’ Laughed Sue. ‘More than appropriate, I guess. I certainly felt a bit like that when I got back here. Okay, ready when you are. There's a wine bar just around the corner from here.’ Ted followed Sue as they went out of the front door, with the Stones accompaniment gradually fading away behind them. The streets of Fulham were still wet from an earlier afternoon shower. Had now given away to early evening sunlight glistening on the road surface. The sounds of the Stones, being replaced by the hum of traffic going past at the end of the road. ‘It’s just around this corner. With luck we will be early enough to grab one of the outside tables.’ Sue was right, the tables were just being placed outside, as they approached. ‘Sit yourself down, what do you fancy red or white? Let me guess. White, and I wouldn't mind betting that it would be a Chardonnay. Don't go away, you look better already.’ Said a Smiling Ted. Before Sue could say anything, Ted was returning with two glasses, and a bottle of the desired wine. As Ted sat down, a bemused Sue said, ‘I think you are just the candidate I'm looking for. You would be more than ideal for my forthcoming TV show. There is no doubt about it, you have second sight.’ ‘And why would that be?’ ‘Certainly as far as wine goes. And you got my favourite one, I love Chardonnay, just what I needed.’ With wine poured, and glasses clinked as cheers was proclaimed. Ted looked across at Sue, and said. ‘Your idea of coming for a glass of wine, as I just remarked, has done you the world of good. A complete recovery I would say. Dare I ask what had happened?’

‘Sorry about that, I normally answer the door in a slightly better condition, than what you have just experienced. Thanks for coming to my rescue. I must say I was feeling a bit like death warmed up. This is just what I needed a wonderful cold glass of wine. Thanks again for that’, and clinked Ted’s glass once more saying, ‘to what ever.’ Ted noticed that Sue had not actually answered his question. Perhaps this was not the moment to delve further. Deciding it was better to let it go for the time being. Feeling that his own journalistic tendencies should also be put on hold. The short silence was broken by Sue, asking as she took a sip from her wine. ‘Did you come straight here from the Beeb, you err... Is that what you actually call it? Have you always been in broadcasting, and the like?’ ‘Yes to your first question, yes it does go by that nickname most of the time. And for your penultimate question, yes I came straight here, or to be more correct, to your house. Sorry if I’m beginning to sound as if I've got a microphone turned on between us.’ ‘I know what you mean.’ said Sue, ‘it happens to me too. It’s sometimes difficult to realise you're not on an assignment. It’s almost frightening on how your job dictates on how you express oneself. You are not even aware on how you’ve been influenced by your line of work. Anyhow, as I was about to ask, was the media your first choice? Or was there another direction you wanted to follow?’ ‘Well, that other direction was acting. I had managed to get a scholarship into RADA. Fortunately one day I came across an ad, placed by the BBC. I was intrigued. And it is beginning to dawn on me that acting was not always the best of ways to pay your bills. Not only that, it was also beginning to occur to me that acting was not one of the safest of life’s career choices. Luckily the BBC took a liking to me. You might say, I’m of the same heritage as Meghan Markle. I guess that helped me. It was not an opportunity that I could turn my back on. So before I knew it, I was working for the World Service side of the Beeb. My looks seem to confuse people.. I know that they are all dying to ask, where do you come from? I'm tempted to say England, just like you mate. Should I explain further, relating to my origins. It doesn't help matters, to say that my father was in fact born in . After that it all gets a bit hazy. As to where my roots came from. Even my mum who was white, as you might guess, is not too sure. My father was quite a successful wrestler, would you believe. He was known as the

Black Butcher. I can still travelling around Britain in the back of a Dormobile as a kid. More known these days as a mobile home. So that's me, all in a soundbite as we say.’ ‘That's certainly a difficult act to follow for a good story,’ said Sue refilling Ted’s glass. ‘Your story reminds me of when I was writing an article about pro wrestling for one of the Sundays. I had been watching a series on Netflix called “Glow”. Which had a wrestling theme, that triggered the idea. The one thing that stuck in my mind, was that everybody said that all the fights were fixed. I'm sure they were, but it didn't stop it from being very popular. What I had to do was try and find a different angle. So I came up with the rather oblique idea of comparing wrestling with ballet. I suggested that it has more in common with ballet. than people would like to think. Anyhow to cut a long story short. My editor liked the idea. Your life make’s mine sound pretty dull. I went from school to a rather menial job at the local rag. Where they eventually gave me a chance to write. So that's where I started.’ She felt a slight pang of conscience for leaving out her rather aristocratic background. Reasoning the less said on that for the moment, the better. ‘I’m sure it’s not. Just think of all the awful jobs you could be doing? I'm sure there would be a multitude of publications out there which you would run a mile from.’ Yes thought Sue, working on a social editorial for one of the glossies that came to mind. But keeping that thought strictly to herself, saying instead. ‘I guess we're very lucky on what we do. So thats what has happened to me up to now...’ Knowing now she was about to ease into what had been worrying her since Ted’s telephone call. ‘Such as.’ Coaxed Ted. Having the impression that this was why she had looked so troubled earlier on. And not quite the same relaxed person he had got to meet on the flight back from Glasgow. ‘My perception.’ said Sue abruptly. ‘Is just this. Something that once I would not have thought possible. Has changed beyond belief!’ For a few seconds Sue remained thoughtfully silent. Reaching for her wineglass, looked at Ted after a few more seconds of hesitation, before saying. ‘I normally make it a rule not to talk in any depth about what I'm working on. But what I have witnessed over the last week was nothing compared to what I had to try and comprehend this

morning. This is why you found me in this somewhat disconsolate state. Making me feel utterly alone in what I had so inexplicably experienced.’ Ted was looking almost more concerned than what Sue was. The change in Sue’s demeanour was dramatic. As she strived to find the courage to explain the unnerving incident that had confronted her that morning. ‘Take your time, I can see by the look on your face that you are more than a little distraught. I know you’re still wondering if you can share this experience with me. All I can say, is that you have my complete trust. I know that we hardly know each other, but what else can I say?’ Looking slightly more relaxed, maybe it was the wine. But there was something about Ted they gave her the confidence to go on. ‘Okay.’ Giving the merest hint of a smile. ‘For your ears only. And when you hear what I'm going to tell you. you will begin to understand my dilemma. Apart from anything else I don't wish to become the laughing stock of what was once called Fleet Street. I haven't mentioned it to anyone. As the overtones could have such serious repercussions for another person connected to this story, let alone myself. The only thing I can say, is to try and keep an open mind. I know myself that I’ve a cynical edge. Like all journalists must have. This has stopped me from giving the other person involved in this story at first total credence, as you might well start to understand. But when something like this hits you full in the face as happened to me. The word dumbfounded does not even cover it.’ By now Sue had Ted’s full attention. First of all explaining how she had met Jackie, and how she was told about her mysterious dreams. ‘With a background like mine I wasn't absolutely convinced at the time. Perhaps a story to be taken with a pinch of salt as some might say. Or if you like it was just a story that some would believe, and others not.’ She also knew as things stood at the moment, that she herself had now become the centre piece, if not the mouthpiece of what was going on around her. Ted could see that there was still some reluctance on Sue ’s part before relating to him on what had caused her so much distress. But could see that Sue was trying to put her thoughts in order and now looking straight at Ted said. ‘I’m just wondering how to put it into words this inconceivable incident, so try, and bear with me to what I’m going to try and tell you next, which I know will be difficult for you to grasp. I would not blame you if your only comment, was “Thats

absurd” so perhaps you can see my dilemma.’ Sue rushed on before what was left of her mental courage deserted her. Going on to speak about Jackie's lookalike appearing on the computer screen. That had been ed from her camera’s memory card. ‘Should you be thinking, as I was at the time. And I guess I was trying to grasp at any straw of reality. That somehow ... You know, perhaps they’ve been playing a trick on me. Like perhaps the art department. I'm sure you know something about digital enhancement that computers and Photoshop are capable of. It's pretty easy if you know what you're doing. But... I realised very quickly that would have been quite impossible. As I was the only one to have seen her before we went out to lunch. Not only that Jim, our resident Mac genius on seeing this image had actually said he could fall head over heels in love with such a face. It was at that moment I felt myself becoming very light headed. Managing to sit down in a nearby chair before I blacked out completely. I have never felt so over come by such an emotion before. Poor Jim having to come from infatuation to concern about my well-being. Fortunately I came to my senses in time to it off as a bout of food poisoning. I guess I must have looked pretty awful. Well, there you are, I know thats a lot to swallow. It certainly has been for me, more than enough.’ A few seconds went by in silence. Ted was unsure whether Sue would continue. He reached across the table gently touching the back of her hand. ‘I’m glad that you been able to confide in me. I’m not even going to try, or comment on what you have told me. I know it would be too easy for me to say, don’t worry. What I do hope, that now you have shared with me your...What can I say, unsettling encounter? Anyhow you know what I’m talking about. That it won’t be now such a burden. But rest assured I will not repeat any of this to anybody. If it means anything to you, I feel very privileged that I have your trust.’ ‘Thanks for listening to my ramblings. You’re right, now that I’ve shared my story with you, it certainly makes me feel a lot better. I hope I haven’t spoilt our ...Um relaxing drink this evening.’ ‘Not at all, it was a lot better than the usual office type chitchat you would normally expect on such outings. But not in a million years would I have expected such an extraordinary story. If I had found your story on the Internet or in a newspaper I would have given it no more than a cursory glance. Though hearing it from you, has also changed my perspective somewhat. So where do you go now. Or what would be a better question, what's your initial take on what you have been through?’

‘Where or what?’ echoed Sue. ‘I wish I knew. If it was the USA, I probably head for a shrink. Here you have to be completely round the bend before anyone contemplates going near one. And more than likely most people would say you're just a little eccentric.’ Looking at Ted over the top of her raised glass said. ‘I know one thing for sure, I'll never ever again scoff, at anybody who even remotely had any kind of experiences that I've been through. I shall keep my mouth firmly shut in the future. For a more reasonable answer to your earlier question, as to what do I do now, I think my best course of action would be to do nothing. And as far as my boss goes, Mike... My guess is this, is where it starts to get difficult. He will for sure be asking about the beautiful face on my Scottish photographs. Not only that, I'm sure, Jim has more than likely printed out this face, that had such an impact on him. And I expect by now that he has got it stuck up on a wall somewhere. What on earth would I say should that have happened? This is where I get the feeling it’s all going to get somewhat out of control. God! I've never felt quite so useless. This whole thing is becoming too ridiculous for words.’ It appeared to Ted as if a dark cloud of indecision had thrown a blanket over her earlier returning sparkle. ‘You know what I think?’ ‘What would that be?’ Enquired Sue, now looking slightly more relaxed than Ted who still had a look of concern written across his face. ‘My best suggestion is to walk you back home, and get myself back to my side of Fulham. I've got myself a so called breakfast meeting at the unearthly hour of eight. While you certainly need some rest. You will feel a lot better when you wake up tomorrow. Sleep on it, as my mum used to say. And who knows you will have some kind of solution to some of your more immediate problems.’ Unable to think of any further words of comfort to add, seeing they have had both finished their wine. Got to his feet, while helping up Sue from her chair, as he pulled it back. ‘I can only offer my heartfelt thanks for your kind . I really needed it, together with the drink. I think some of your optimism has rubbed off on me. Sleep on it, is very good advice. Which I will, thankfully so far no one famous or infamous have invaded my dreams. So that's one problem I don't have in that direction.’

‘Okay, we’re out of here, forget the walk back, there's a taxi. I'll drop you off, on the way to my place.’ Promising to call her the following day, as he dropped her off. Ted settled back in the taxi for the short journey home. This had been a date like no other. Totally bewildering, just trying to make heads or tails of the extraordinary happenings that Sue had just told him. It was for the moment beyond his abilities of understanding. The only thing he foresaw was having difficulty getting himself off to sleep. With what Sue had divulged to him, already swirling around inside his own head. The one thing he knew for sure, that she had been very candid and honest. He also realised that she was very troubled by what she had become part of. He furthermore felt that her openness with him, made him feel very ive towards her. He could not but help, to what he saw in his minds eye. The beginning of a mutual understanding, or even more perhaps. Ted was called back from his reverie as the cab drew up outside his place, with the driver saying, ‘that's three pound fifty mate.’

Chapter 15

Jackie reached down for her bag that was beside her chair, pulling it up on to her lap, to rummage through the contents, eventually finding her mobile. On clicking it once more into life to find out what were the two missed calls. But deciding for the moment they could remain just that. Telling herself that this was not the time to chat to known or unknown persons. Still feeling a little shaken from her earlier encounter with her tutor. Deciding to wait till later when she felt more secure in her own mind. Giving herself something to meditate over before coming to any kind of decision. The last thing she wanted to do was to say anything that she might later regret. Using her left foot to kick off her right shoe, and like wise with the other. Sank back into the comfort of the reclining armchair that she had inherited from the previous occupant of her room. Letting her eyes shut, giving her mind a chance to wander. The shutting of her eyes was the easy part. Except the other half of her brain did not want to comply. Not even giving her the option of a cat nap. The more dominant side won the day, headlining her more rational rumination. There was only one thing that she very much wanted an answer too. Was how, and to when was all this perplexing and disconcerting state of affairs finally going to end? Only when that came about, could that pertinent question be answered. Would that be the moment when she regained her peace of mind? Until now, that was no small matter. What was all too apparent it was certainly no where in sight, just a limitless abyss of uneasiness. Finally settling on trying to understand the rather strange behaviour of her tutor. Thinking that it might be a good idea if she put herself into his shoes, to see what it was like from his perspective. It certainly can't be every day that a mere student turns up with a solution to a mathematical enigma, if ever. Getting no satisfaction or understanding from that point of view and at a total loss for further theories on that paradoxical debate. Jackie’s mind floated back to the more secure ground of that delightful lunch she had experienced with Sue’s family and friends. With no effort on her part, she drifted into various deliberations concerning James Grant. On her return to Cambridge, it had not so much as slipped her mind but had been tucked away in a less busy corner, to be brought out for further perusal when times were more comforting. What she did , was the concern on James's face, when she had inadvertently snapped the stem of her wineglass. For some reason it gave her a warm feeling. She now

had the impression that he was no longer into that more remote corner of her subconsciousness. But had now escaped surreptitiously into her immediate consciousness. She well ed James’s amusing of his thesis, which for Jackie was not such an incongruous idea that he had, by any means. There was a similarity with her father's points of view in many areas. Like her parson father, James could also hold people’s attention. When her father thought that his congregation attention was beginning to wane during one of his sermons he would throw in similar ideas to that of James which during one of his Sunday morning services, that always made them sit up, and get their attention. Rather like the novel “The Da Vinci Code” had woken up people’s imagination. Her father had once remarked to her, that there is always, an alternative way of thinking. Jackie was finding it now even more difficult to relax, having to deal with all these random thoughts, that had pushed their perturbingly way into her subconscious. Suddenly she knew the all too obvious, that she wasn't about to find this meaning of life in the temporary relaxation of a more than comfortable reclining armchair. She eventually pushed herself away somewhat reluctantly from the comfort that had unobtrusively cushioned her into inaction to going across the room to a corner which made a bad substitute for a kitchen with only sufficient space enough to make a basic sandwich or to store her morning cereal. She started to make a mug of instant coffee, which immediately reminded her of Sue. With her utter dislike for that bad imitation of the real thing. At the same time feeling guilty for making an instant version. Sue was quite right, she would get some kind of coffee maker the next time she went out. But for now this would have to do. At least it was hot and wet. With the mug of instant, she took it over to place on the paper strewn table. Putting aside some papers that lay in the warm streaming sunlight. Before climbing higher into the sky leaving the window only for reflected light that would half-heartedly filter through. Looking over the mug’s rim, through the wafting vapours that were rising from her mug, as she brought it up to her mouth for the first tentative sip. That was giving the outside world a surreal aura, that slowly evaporated back into reality. On placing the mug back amid the scattered papers on the table. But that truth had made its indelible mark, far too enticing to ignore. Had already etched into her longings, a desire to be a part of it. Looking at the papers, the unfinished coffee, and folders on the table reminded her of the work that needed to be given some serious attention. The late spring sunshine won the day, and any further concentration would be beyond possibility. While recollecting the view of the grassy “Backs” of the colleges and how inviting they looked, as she sat waiting in anticipation of

what next might Toms propose, before the ringing telephone cut off further discussion. To get outside, if only to stop those re-occurring thoughts that had been triggered by dreams that had plague her mind since their onset. Could she really becoming paranoid? That there were people actually out there trying to get information, that only her brain possessed. It was just getting a bit too much. She was beginning to imagine, it was like all the villains from a James Bond movie running into each other, with her as the target. Putting aside an almost undrinkable mug of coffee, she grabbed hold of her shoulder bag, and was through the door before she could have any change of mind. Quickly strolling in the general direction of the river itself. It was here there was a feeling of tranquillity, helped by the balmy spring warmth of the morning. Finding a vacant riverside bench with only the sounds of the river lapping against its banks, Jackie sat down. Getting her mobile from out of the bag beside her on the bench, she looked once more at the numbers that at first did not mean much to her. Clicking on the first number, she found herself talking to the universities office about some minor payment that had slipped her mind. The second was more of a surprise, it was from James. That's interesting, was her immediate thought. For some almost embarrassing reason she felt like a young teenager, that some boy had actually phoned her back. It was not as though she had not had telephone calls from the opposite sex before. Even at a much earlier age, she knew even at that time the boys at school had called her a looker. Jackie was more than aware of the heads she turned. Only recently when she was in one of Cambridge’s supermarkets, she had met with angry looks from more than one wife, when their husbands or perhaps boyfriends were caught ogling her over the frozen fish fingers. Or other such places, when they thought their other halves were not being so observant. At times she thought her arresting beauty was more of a curse than a help, dooming her to celibacy. Perhaps helping her to concentrate more on her studies, than the advances of fellow male students. It had come to her notice that these undergraduates have given her the nickname of the ice queen. It was much to her surprise that she was putting James into a different category. If nothing else he was putting back some joy in her life. Believing that there was a feeling of mutual understanding for each other. She was somewhat amazed at her thoughts for James. In the past she was fending off countless suitors, others with outright seduction in mind. And the ones with the line, “I just want to be your friend.” All this amongst many other types of come-ons. But she wondered what James’s reaction would be. And it was a big but. If he had knowledge of

her present dilemma. That she knew was way past anybody's rationale limits of thought or perceptions. She was certainly aware that just a ing mention of anything even remotely that was not obviously part of this world, would of course have people smiling at you in a rather condescending way. A bridge to be crossed when ever it turns up, was the answer she surmised. Returning her thoughts to James’s call and looking at the time beside the number, she noticed it was only mid-morning, perhaps not the best of times to return James’s call. She made a mental note to make the call for around the early evening. She was beginning to feel the hardness of the bench seat. Which in turn made way for the pangs of hunger, that were beginning to overtake any other kinds of thought. She guessed about an hour had gone by since she had been observing the endless flow of the Cam. With some reluctance she stood up, as much as she had enjoyed such a contemplative spot. Hunger had finally blotted out anything but the essential need of food. Back to her study for a sandwich? That would abolish her guilt for not studying. Immediately knowing that was not on. What was the point? The whole idea of coming out here in the first place was to gain some equilibrium for her inner self. Without a doubt, she knew the day owed itself to her. She had fully convinced herself about that. Now with a different view of the river. This time from a table at “The Anchor,” a riverside inn that caressed the edge of the Cam. Nursing a glass of cold white wine. It was a small luxury that went well with the cheese salad she had ordered. How wonderful it would be, she found herself contemplating. If only James could also be sharing in all this. God what on earth am I thinking? One phone call, yet unanswered and it's undying love, get a grip girl. A couple at a nearby table were giving her sideways glances. Suddenly realising that she had a broad grin on her face. They were most likely thinking that she was the local lush. Putting her wine back down onto the table. Somewhat fortified by the wine. She made the decision not to wait until the evening to make this phone call. Now was a good time as ever. Her impatience putting any further procrastination aside. Once more delving into her bag, to pull out her mobile. ‘Now let's see what this James wants.’ She murmured to herself tapping her finger on the required button. Heard one call tone, another, then the third. ‘Just one more.’ she said quietly to a nearby swan. Going on to think, I'll leave it until the evening. Just as she was about to press the cancel button, she heard an uncertain, ‘hello.’ ‘Hi.’ Jackie replied, hoping the hi set the right tone, at the same time trying not to sound over eager. ‘I'm returning your call.’

‘I didn't recognise the number at first, but your hi did it for me.’ ‘Hope I haven't caught you at a bad time, have I? Tell me you're not in some tutorial, and your phone going off, has called you all kinds of embarrassment.’ ‘No not at all, in fact I was just thinking about lunch. Or something along those lines.’ ‘I’m ahead of you there, I’ve just about finished mine.’ ‘I guess you're outside? From the odd sounds I can just about hear in the background.’ ‘I think you must have just heard a swan honk, I'm sitting beside the river at a pub called The Anchor, I'm feeling a little guilty about having such a laid-back lunch. When perhaps I should have my nose in some papers or books. Trying to make sense of the impossible, how about you?’ ‘Just give me wings, and I'll you. Your location sounds a lot better option than mine. Me it’s down to the local greasy spoon. Or maybe the local pub, which unfortunately unlike yours is not on the banks of one of Oxford’s waterways. So I guess it's going to be a pork pie and a pint at the aforementioned local. Hope I'm not sounding too sorry for myself.’ ‘You want me to really answer that?’ ‘Okay I guess I am, I'll try and be a little more positive, how about...’ ‘How about what... James?’ Knowing she was having fun with him, by putting him on the spot, and knew only too well what he was about to ask next. ‘What I was trying to articulate, are you around this weekend?’ Jackie's intuition was right, that his call would be going down these lines. Having already decided on her answer which was. ‘I guess you can say that I'm around.’ ‘In that case.’ James went on. ‘Let me tell you what I had in mind, a friend of mine has a cottage just outside of Cambridge. He told me that I can have use of it this weekend. Maybe I can meet up with you, say this Saturday lunchtime. If

you like we could take it from there. If that sounds okay with you ‘That’s I must say, is about the best idea I've heard today.’ How well do you know Cambridge?’ ‘I don’t, I was swallowed up by Oxford before I had chance to check out Cambridge, so tell me where.’ ‘Where I am now, would be good. It's a very well-known pub, as you already know it’s on the river. Just ask for The Anchor. Pretty well anybody will be able to tell you how to find it. Like you say about midday-ish this Saturday, that would be okay with me too. I'll try and be there a little earlier, the pub starts to fill up about one. We will have a better chance of getting a table alongside the river. Which would be perfect if the weather continues to be as sunny as today. They, that seem to know, say it will be. If all that is okay by you?’ ‘Okay, most certainly, see you and speak to you on Saturday. Clicking the phone off, before the conversation developed into unintelligible errs, and embarrassing silences. Or even worse still, to ramble on about God knows what. Such banality would have been just too much. Having paid for lunch at the counter when she ordered. Decided that the lunch had come to a satisfactory end. This was underlined when the tranquillity of the river was broken by what appeared to be some German tourists who seem to be having trouble navigating their punt under the nearby bridge. Leaving the table, and the Germans to their fate, she's strolled out onto the road that led past the front of the pub. ing the colleges that from the outside had more of an appearance of a mediaeval castle with the high walls and heavy wooden gates through which you can catch glimpses of immaculate lawns, gardens, and cloistered walks that lay behind, hiding away one of the oldest seats of learning in the world. It was a world that Jackie never tired of. She sometimes had difficulty in believing that she was continuing her studies in such imposing and beautiful surroundings. It was almost a feeling of euphoria that had swept aside any previous despondency as she began to think what the forthcoming Saturday could bring. The phone call she had made during lunch, had put icing on the cake. And her future was suddenly looking a lot brighter. Nor did she have a guilty conscience for giving herself a break from her studies. It was some three quarters of an hour later, having stopped off at a bookshop, also a shop where she bought a coffee maker together with some ground coffee. Immediately looking forward to the making of the real thing. When she entered

her room, once again saw on the floor close to the door, that now familiar beige coloured note paper. ‘What now?’ She exclaimed out aloud to herself as she bent down to pick it up and putting it down on the table, alongside with the rest of her shopping. ‘What I need before I do anything, especially before getting into what my dear tutor has to say.’ She murmured to herself. ‘Is a coffee break.’ Proceeding to fill the jug part with water, and to plug in her new acquisition. In a matter of minutes was rewarded with a coffee. Taking her freshly brewed mug of coffee to the table next to the note. Fearing the worst as she unfolded the paper. Why she felt so pessimistic for what the message might convey, she could not fathom. With a sigh Jackie picked it up, and proceeded to read. Going from pessimism to almost bewilderment as to its contents. I would be delighted if you would be good enough to attend a small cocktail soirée that I will be having on this coming Thursday evening at around 7PM. Looking at Toms signature that was scrawled at the bottom of his request, not even an RSVP asked for, she noted. But what she did know, you did not fail to turn up at such an invitation. At least it was not on the day that James would be arriving. Not only that, I’ve actually got something new to wear. Thinking of her recent purchase of last weekend. Seeing that she still had half a mug of coffee left, and the latter part of the afternoon. Deciding that there was know better place once more that looked so inviting as her very comfortable inherited armchair to collapse into, and to contemplate the forthcoming weekend. The only ominous blot on her immediate horizon was her professor’s thing on this Thursday. After that it was plain sailing to her Saturday meet up with James. She guessed that was something to really look forward to. Lunch at The Anchor what could be better? As the soft comfort of the armchair performed its magic, giving her for once a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 16

Sue had arrived at Cosmos shortly after nine. It was just over an hour later when Mike walked in through the door. Going straight over to his computer to turn it on. As usual throwing his beaten up attache case, together with his equally well worn leather jacket on to the sofa, which had about the same wear and tear as his other two possessions. And to silently collapse alongside them. Looking up from his rather oblique view of Sue, asked. ‘Tell me Sue, how’s our luck running today? Is there any chance that we can feel a little more optimistic, than of late?’ ‘Oh, and good morning to you.’ Said Sue looking down at Mike’s inert body. ‘Lets hope so, and good morning to you too.’ Mike replied as he unfolded his newspaper. ‘Have we heard any more from our friend north of the border?’ ‘Mr Simpson you mean? The answer to that one is yes. I spoke to him only yesterday. Just after you made your exit for the day. From what I gathered he seemed quite happy with the arrangements. I guess it’s not every day that someone comes along, and offers you five hundred quid. At the time he thought that was it. But when I told him that was only the initial payment, and there would be more to come. Like I said, he was more than happy. But what Scotsman wouldn't be?’ Said a smiling Sue . ‘Anyhow when he gets that initial payment, we will certainly have his full cooperation for sure. I'm just about to pour myself another coffee. How about you?’ ‘Yes to that, and thank you. Why is it that I feel so guilty every time I accept your offer of that delicious brew of yours? I know I should for once in awhile get off my arse and make you the same offer.’ Said Mike with a Cheshire cat like grin on his face. ‘It's not that I don't enjoy serving you, but what I’m scared of, is that you are going to sneak in a jar of that instant rubbish. And try and poison me with a cup of that.’ With that said, went over to the spot in the office where all the paraphernalia of refreshments were kept. It was there the glistening coffee

machine stood out from a background of whiskey, vodka bottles, plus a solitary bottle of gin. Along with all the required glasses and cups. Making a frothy cappuccino like white coffee for herself, together with an espresso for Mike. Sue was feeling very much back to her old self. And it had pretty much slipped her mind altogether to that eerie happening she had so recently experienced. But as she was about to hand Mike’s coffee to him, she was jolted back once more to that morning. Coming to an abrupt stop, before finding a space on his desk for the coffee. There, as on that fateful morning, staring back at her from Mike’s computer screen, was the inescapable features of Jackie's twin. Which had no doubt taken up residence on every hard drive in the building. The face she ed all too well, when she had first seen it on Jim's computer screen. This time even larger. This iMac came with the largest screen, which Mike had insisted on when he came to work at Cosmos. There she was, the unmistakable features of Jackie, the 1940s version, that she felt was indistinguishable from what Mr Simpson had encountered and had described to Sue. Complete with that headscarf, along with the fashionable make-up that was so common during that era. Once more she felt a degree of shock, fortunately not to the same degree as the other morning. Though there was that slight dropping feeling in the pit of her stomach. But with a deep breath brought herself back from that disturbing vision, that her eyes had just ed. Except her brain was having trouble trying to quantify the image. Only when the feeling of hot coffee spilling over onto her fingers did she regain her thoughts, to the harsh reality that she was witnessing once more. Looking over to where Mike was sprawled with his morning paper, noticing that his concentration was fortunately still into the paper. ‘Here's your coffee.’ Said Sue, taking it from the desk on which the computer sat, where she had put it in that moment of shock, putting it onto a small table alongside the sofa. ‘Thanks luv. You’re a darling,’ Said Mike with an ear to ear grin. ‘Enough of the luvs and the rest.’ Was Sue’s only reply, failing to think of a more apt riposte, to Mike’s risqué acknowledgement for the coffee, while her mind was in such turmoil. ‘I’ll just check to see if anybody else has felt like sending us any eMails.’ Giving herself the excuse she needed, to send that face that seemed to be frozen on to the computer screen, to digital oblivion. Trying to ignore the all too dominant screen, clicked the delete key. And quickly clicking onto a more favourable eMail. At the same time feeling just a little guilty of disposing of the evidence of such a good story. It went all against the grain of her

instincts of being a journalist. That would have fitted in so well with what Mr Simpson had observed in Scotland. She knew that she had to make time to think this extraordinary perplexing occurrence through. What was bugging her, was she being disloyal to Mike? She thoroughly understood that she had broken a golden rule. She had become part of the story. But what choice did she have? Jackie had become a friend, to betray Jackie? This was an issue that just did not bear contemplation. Not only that, did Mike know? Perhaps Jim had said something to Mike over a drink, and even joked about it. These entangled questions were hitting her from a multitude of directions. It had become a situation that could not be allowed to multiply. Certainly not, if she was about to get any sleep tonight, or come to that any other night. You can't go on hiding for ever. Suddenly she had a revealing flash of clarity. An escape from the mental torment that she was torturing herself with. Of course, take the bull by the horns. In this case Mike, by his own proverbial horns. But first things first. Did Mike have any knowledge whatsoever of the computer screen phantom Jackie? For herself it was anything but an apparition. It was all very solid, if you can call an image on a computer screen just that. For once in her professional life she was more than a little apprehensive. Wondering on how to approach the subject. Head on maybe, was her first inclination. What was apparent, this was no time to be at loss for words, it had to be done. Going back to her own desk to get her coffee, pulling her own chair closer to where Mike was reclining. Having made herself as comfortable as possible, with coffee balanced on her knee. Picking up the spoon from the saucer, began to slowly stir the coffee, while contemplating on how best to come grips with this dilemma. Looking over towards Mike, who was still immersed with his morning paper, totally unaware of Sue's closeness. Sue began, ‘Mike...’ failing to extract Mike from the depths of the Telegraph at her first attempt. She repeated herself, this time more successfully, with Mike peering over the lower half of the paper. While giving a cursory look at his half empty cup on a nearby table. ‘If you are about to ask me if I want a top up, that's very kind of you. And most certainly, yes please.’ Finally getting Mike attention at last. This was now or never. The topic that was beginning to take over her consciousness to such a degree, it was becoming difficult to make any logical sense of anything. Going over to the still warm coffeepot. Picking it up, advanced upon the reclining Mike, and once more filled his cup, and sat down.

‘Thanks for that, you’re looking a trifle... troubled.’ Mike suddenly observed, that this was not the normal way they took their morning coffee in such close proximity. Casting his paper aside, and looking decidedly worried. ‘You're not going to tell me you're reg are you? Please tell me you're not. I know you're pregnant...’ This caused Sue to raise her eyebrows somewhat. Now looking completely complexed. ‘If it's about the petty cash.’ Mike went on. Trying to lighten the mood. ‘I’ve always got my hand in it too.’ If only it was. She thought while replacing her cup on the table. ‘It's about Jackie... Jackie Trent she’s the undergraduate at Cambridge.’ ‘Jackie, Jackie you say? Jackie who?’ Coming to a sudden realisation, that Mike was perhaps not so conversant about Jackie. And he was actually having a problem as to where this Jackie fitted into the general plan of things. It was as if a dense fog had suddenly lifted. It became apparent that Mike in fact knew very little. Also had no idea on how she looked. For the time being, it would seem he had not the slightest idea on how Jackie would have encroached into the various schemes of the programme. Even if it was just a virtual Jackie. Quickly trying to reshape her previous thoughts. As her brain started to click back into normal activity once more. Could it be that she was actually seeing the possibility that there could be a chink of light at the end of this problematic tunnel? More importantly, it will allow her just a little more time to get everything more or less in order. Going along with Mikes jocular mood. Said with a look of shock innocence on her face. ‘Oh Mike how did you know?’ Mike was now looking more than a little puzzled. ‘Know... what?’ ‘Relax, I'm not pregnant, nor am I about to resign... Yet. But I do plead guilty, that I do find myself on some occasions of dipping my hand into the petty cash. Along with the unforgivable crime of failing to leave a receipt. Okay, joking aside, it’s this. She’s the one, as I just mentioned at Cambridge University, the one with the strange dreams, if you . Has said that she no longer wants to take part in our production.’ Sue immediately knew that she was about to spin an even deeper whopper of a lie. Lying cut deeply across in everything she believed in. It was just not in her nature in any form. But hoping to gain a grain of comfort of about what she was about to say. That it could be hopefully classed as a white lie. ‘She said that it might upset her college.’

‘Her college you say?’ Mike said still having a little trouble to where all this was leading ‘Yes she's up at Cambridge, as I just said.’ ‘Oh well, there's bugger all we can do about that. I guess it’s bound to happen on occasions. Anyhow, we have plenty to go on with for the moment.’ With that utterance, Mike lost himself once again into his paper, and the complexities of the real world. Having left Mike with his newspaper, wandered back to her side of the office. Looked out the window with a deep feeling of relief. Fairly certain now that Mike didn't really have a clue as to who Jackie actually was. With this in mind, her anxieties were evaporating as if they have never been there at all. No longer did she have to embellish her deceit any further. Except, except what? She kept on asking herself. Something was gnawing away at her new found confidence. Like a shadow that was forever growing darker. This she knew, was not going to be the end of it. That image of Jackie on Mike’s computer screen. Was only at Mike’s end of the office. All that was needed was a click on “history” and that image would obediently reappear. Reaffirming that this was no delusion. How could it? Not only was it deeply engraved into her brain. And trying to say it was a figment of an over active imagination. That was just not possible. Even if in the age of time that image could fade. But there it was stored permanently on the hard drive of the computer. Always there as a constant reminder to Sue. And for anybody else who cared to look. The true significance could not be denied. Not crossing anyones mind, on how in this case, that a photograph or a digital image could in fact lie. At the same time hiding away a subject that was under constant derision. It had become a very solid reminder that the paranormal was anything but paranormal. Up to now it had been the province of the socalled eccentric few. A subject that hard minded scientists do not want to dabble in. Sue was beginning to understand that one of the main problem with the scientific world is that they are so full of their own self- righteousness, that there is a total reluctance to take on any kind of view that does not fit neatly into their preserve as they see it. And it would be extremely doubtful that any member of that sphere would take a step out of line, into the lack of discipline concerning the unknown. As far as Sue could discern, that this perception was coming to an end. She also knew that there were many images of this nature on the Internet. Always met with more than enough scepticism. It would be a wake-up call, should she ever feel the inclination to bring this to public view. At the same time

she knew this wasn't about to happen. Someone would bound to say, computer trickery. It would be her face with egg on it. No wonder any serious minded person would think twice about coming into the open, even with the hardest of evidence, and opening up themselves to public ridicule. These were just a few of the probabilities that Sue or anybody else would face. Had these bubbling mental impressions had sound they would have filled the silence that was only broken by the rustle of Mike’s newspaper as he turned a page. And there was the possibility of far reaching ramifications, should a wider audience ever appreciate what this other dimension could possibly have on the world. The paranormal until now was a subject that had no part in her daily life. It was only a subject that was quickly discussed and lightly dismissed without another thought. A manifestation that would, in the not so far distant future was going to come to the fore. With as much force as when the world was told that the atom had been split. For Sue it had become all too real. Occasionally wondering if only someone of significant stature in the scientific workplace would stand up and say so. While knowing nobody in their right mind would put any money on such speculation. Sue had never felt this isolated. Always going back to that constant memory of that morning, that was forever going to haunt the deeper recesses of her mind. ing only too well when she was part of the world of newspapers. Now far removed from that life, where everything was relatively simple. Report story, end of story, move on. There would be no rope of rescue from this quagmire. As she found herself sinking ever deeper into its depths. Wondering as to how or when, would normality ever manage to find its way back into her life once more. For now she had been given a small crumb of comfort. That Mikes grasp of Jackie's existence was all very vague. But for how long? A disturbing timeline that was obscure as time itself.

Chapter 17

That week two things had occupied Jackie's mind. Uppermost was the arrival of James on Saturday. This she looked forward to with great anticipation. But overhanging all of this, was that unexpected invitation from her tutor. And that time had now come. In about two hours she was about to find out as to why, she had been singled out. This was looked forward to only with some degree of trepidation. Why she saw it in such a negative light was difficult to understand. Trying to console herself, while thinking if nothing else it would be a good subject for some future conversation. Already one of her closest friends at Trinity, seemed even more curious than herself. She promised to recall all the gossip that Toms gathering might happen to produce. And even vowed to give a knock on her door when it was all over. If nothing else was gained from this evening it would be good to see what reaction her new purchase would have. Though not at all sure if such an elite bunch of academics wouldn't have any such thoughts. But could only speculate they must have wives. Who would possibly cast an eye over her new glad rags. The appointed time of 7 o'clock had arrived. But having no wish to be one of the first, she decided to give herself another 10 minutes. During that time she slipped on her new dress, gave herself a quick look in the mirror, and was out of the door. His study was no more than five minutes away. On getting there, she could make out a hubbub of voices emitting from behind the half open door. Taking a deep breath as she pushed the door wider to enter. The room was almost as dim as the corridor outside. She soon recognised a few faces, mainly of tutors she had seen around the campus, together with a sprinkling of their wives. They were certainly not of the girlfriend variety. On closer inspection, there certainly did not seem to be any other students. Of this she was quite sure, she appeared to be the only one. She guessed that a few were acquaintances of Toms from around Cambridge. Before being able to take in any more of the room, or to make any more assumptions. A man wearing a white jacket, appeared in front of her, balancing a tray of glasses, filled with red and white wine. ‘Madam.’ He said while nodding down at his tray, and looking at her as he raised his eyes from under very bushy eyebrows. ‘Red or White.’ Jackie recognised

him as one of the college’s porters. ‘Oh...err, white please.’ Now feeling a trifle more relaxed, taking a sip of her wine, quickly surveyed her fellow guests. While some of the younger tutors stole glances at her, should they have noticed that their wives attention had been diverted to someone in the opposite direction. Turning her head to take in the other side of the room, closer to that alcove with windows that looked towards the Cam. Where only the other morning she had sat through Toms cynicism followed by his barely hidden incredulousness. It was his voice that caught her attention. A voice that she knew only too well, Toms. At the same time he caught a glimpse of Jackie, as she looked in his direction. Managing to catch her eye, beckoned for her to come over. Manoeuvring her way carefully over to where Toms was standing. Jackie had a growing feeling of some apprehension as to what might happen next which was no more than Toms greeting though it was far warmer than of that fateful morning. ‘So glad you could make it, you have a drink? ... Good. let me introduce you to someone. A fellow tutor, not from here, but I'm sure he’ll tell you from where. He was here a moment ago, ah there he is.’ Toms guided Jackie over to the guest in question, who had his back turned towards them as they approached and appeared to be looking out of the open window. Toms touched his guest arm who turned smiling, to say. ‘Yes, you must be. No, don’t tell me.’ While looking intently at her, continued to say. ‘You are I feel sure, as I have been led to believe by my good friend and your tutor, somewhat of a mathematical genius. The one and only Miss Trent. You are a true case of beauty and the beast. Please forgive my jest. I’m most impressed by what I’ve been told about you. I feel that your future will be quite remarkable. You will have no worries. Absolutely no worries. Just trust me. No worries whatsoever.’ Toms who was looking imively out across The Backs, as Latimer engaged Jackie in conversation, had gradually moved away seeing that Felix was now without question in command of the situation. At the same time noticing that Jackie appeared to be unable to relinquish his gaze. And was totally captivated by his voice.

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It was with a morbid fascination that Toms continued watching knowing only too well what he was about to observe. A repeat performance of what had happened to that stranger in the pub the other morning. He knew now without a further thought that this student of his was so undisputedly in Felix's power. It was beginning to hit Toms hard with the realisation that Felix had no need for hypnosis as far as himself was concerned. Just money, that gave Felix the same power over him. That had forced him towards the imperilment of Jackie’s destiny. He continued to be drawn to Felix’s nefarious charade, with what was his student. This was emphasised even further with the fleeting glimpse of his student wending her way towards the door she had entered not so long ago, neither looking left nor right, to finally disappear from his view. And to all those who made space for her as she crossed the floor to the door, totally unaware that she was the victim of a crime that was almost too difficult to comprehend. A crime that the gathering had unwittingly witnessed, but continued totally unseen. Trying to dispel any further belief in his own mind that it could not be happening, bitterly endorsing the fact that it had. His whole psyche was now directly in dispute with what he had so blindly created. How could he have possibly let this happen, what could he do? Not wanting to engage in any conversation, he kept himself moving around his study, as if looking for someone. To keep away from someone who might want to engage him in mindless chat. He felt as if he was in shock, he was surprised by his reaction to this event, he had just witnessed. It was beginning to exact a cruel revenge, knowing all too well that he only had himself to blame. All the time he was thinking there has to be some kind of a solution to extricate his student from the terrible fate that he was so responsible for. He finally came to a stop, when once again he came face-to-face with Felix. Who had a look on his face like a cat who had just found the cream. Felix looked at Toms and said. ‘What did I tell you? Just as I predicted.’ Toms was too shaken to say anything. As Felix sauntered off in the direction that Jackie had gone. Toms was overcome and shaken by an overwhelming sense of foreboding, and that there was no escaping the fact that he was as guilty as Latimer. Before long Toms was buttonholed into conversation, but to Toms relief it was

not about his student. It seems to him that it would've been most unlikely that anybody would have really have noticed his student or Latimer, considering how quickly it had all happened. For the next hour Toms was forced into unwanted and brainless conversations with his guests, while knowing that an inconceivable and heinous crime would go unrecognised under the innocent eyes of his guests. When the final guest had left, Toms knew that he had to confront Felix once more. And realising that Felix would more than likely want any of Jackie’s mathematical material or papers that Jackie might have been working on. But Toms also knew that this would be his last opportunity to try and reverse what now seemed to be the un-reversible. What had suddenly become clear to Toms, was a situation that had to be stopped. What ever the cost, Latimer’s heinous scheme could not be allowed to continue.

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Chapter 18 It was with some relief when she heard Mike casting his newspaper aside that he had now finished reading, presently given the task of adorning his face. No doubt trying to recover from over indulging the previous evening. Pushed himself into a more upright position from the sofa, with the newspaper slipping to the floor, at the same time rubbing his eyes. Said to Sue, ‘sorry about that, I guess I must have dozed off, hope I wasn't snoring.’ ‘No, the office being so quiet, I haven't heard a sound, so I would say you were not snoring. You look as if a coffee might be of help?’ ‘I would like to say I would certainly love a coffee, but on this occasion I have to refuse. As I have a feeling that I'm already late for some kind of conference they have arranged upstairs. They will have some kind of coffee up there I expect.’ Having now managing to go from the supine, to actually standing up, using the office door handle for , grinned at Sue while saying, ‘I imagine that the meeting is not about our petty cash shortfalls, but who knows.’ And was out of the door.

What was certain, that it would be unlikely that Mike would reappear. Noticing that his leather jacket together with its twin his briefcase, had accompanied him to the meeting. No doubt making himself doubly sure for a quick exit. Seeing it was a Friday she knew that Mike would be soon looking at his watch, hoping that the meeting would be finishing soon. And would not make any advances into his appointed time at the “French.” A pivotal part of the day that could only be called sacred as far as Mike was concerned. Not to be entrenched upon, under any circumstances as far as he was concerned. The rest of the afternoon ed without further incident with only minor details to finalise on the contract for the presenter. Not being tied down by official working hours. She had decided by four, that little else was likely to be gained by her further attendance. By leaving now she would not have to confront the rush hour. As far as she was concerned that was good enough excuse to be gone. It was just after five and Sue was home, kicking off her shoes, as she slumped down on the sofa. To further scan the pages of a late edition of the Evening Standard in comfort. Quickly giving a glance at the front page, which had the headline, that had become something of a tendency to yet again have something about. HARRY and MEGHAN. Which wasn't exactly what she was looking for. Seeing nothing that caught her eye on page two, turning the page onto three. Where there was a small paragraph tucked away in the corner that attracted Sue’s attention. “Cambridge University professors death.” While continuing to vaguely read it, seeing that it was Jackie’s territory, but with little interest. Having seen many similar items from her newspaper days. Even to writing an equivalent piece herself. It went on in the usual fashion. “The police when ed earlier to-day, as yet to state the cause of death. Foul play had not been ruled out.” Well, that does not tell you much about anything she reflected, at the same time wondering if Jackie would have come across the now deceased professor. But looking at the paragraph once more, it gave her an unsettling feeling of unease. At the same time triggering her imagination. That was suddenly racing off into many different directions, scrutinising all the probabilities that her senses were offering. Intuition was an instinct that had served Sue well in the past. Many of her friends who were in journalism would have agreed that she possessed an uncanny sixth sense. Though the more sceptical of them would more than likely say a little more basically, that she certainly had a nose for a good story. Not wanting to waste any more time on such possibilities, she cast the paper aside. If nothing else that story or any future stories should be rewarded with a glass of wine. You did not need any sixth

sense to tell you that. With little effort she rose from the sofa and made her way to the kitchen where she knew lay waiting to be taken from the fridge, was an icy cold half finished bottle of Chardonnay. She went back to the living room holding a glass of wine, putting it down on the table that was beside the window where she could look out at the tranquillity of the street, through the leaves of a blossoming tree. She could just glimpse the more frantic pace of Fulham road with occasional flash of red, as a bus slowed to stop at the nearby bus stop, which Sue liked to take in the morning, should she have time on her side. She had the feeling that time was no longer was going to be her friend. Returning to the sofa, curling her legs beneath her, took a sip of the wine. Looking down at the newspaper that held the story, that once again reignited her imagination. That was beginning to tighten its grip on her conscience. So what to do next? But knowing all the time the obvious, Jackie. And maybe she would be able to spread some light on this incident of the murdered professor. And put an end to this stupid nagging that was bugging her. Apart from the fact it was no concern of hers. ‘Okay, I’ll phone her.’ she said to herself under her breath. With the time coming up to six which seems as good as time as any. Sue went over to the phone that sat on the desk next to her computer, which she turned on and clicked on s. That quickly came up with Jackie's mobile number. Which she called, letting it ring for about half a minute. Only to ring off in frustration. Murmuring to herself. ‘No quick answer there. I'll try later.’ It was coming up to ten when she turned on the BBC evening news. Nothing of that nature was mentioned there either. It was more concerned about Britain's economy now that the virus was over. Turning off the TV, Sue tried phoning once more with the same result. I guess she's got to be out, if not that she has just not heard her mobile, or perhaps she had not turned it on, Sue reasoned. No doubt out and about, doing all the things that students like to do. I'll give her a go tomorrow. A much better idea altogether. But the lingering uncertainty of what could have possibly happened was not about to dissipate any time soon. Frustrated at being unable to get hold of Jackie, and unable to stifle a yawn, thinking it had been a difficult day, if not physically, but certainly mentally. Though sleep called, she at least wanted to go to bed with a clear head. No loose ends. James, that was the answer. Let’s hope he’s not asleep, it will surprise him no end, if nothing else. Normally it was only through her mother, that she got to hear anything what so ever about James. What did cross her mind, that after last Sundays lunch that she had some kind of priority rights over James. Not only that, he would be bound to be full of questions concerning Jackie. Clicking on s once more, found his mobile number, and called. This time there was no waiting, with James almost answering immediately. ‘James, good you're not asleep, that saves me

from having to apologise for waking you up. As you might have guessed by now, it’s me your cousin, Sue.’ And could not help adding. ‘Sorry I know you’re hoping that it was that new love of your life. Now tell me if I'm being nosy. I was just wondering if you’ve heard from Jackie? Perhaps that's a silly question...?’ ‘Sue, how wonderful to hear from you. Have I heard from Jackie you say? Well, I'm sure you know me I certainly couldn’t be indifferent to that question if I tried, I owe you one Sue for that Jackie intro. I'm still trying to get over it, you certainly have a very gorgeous friend. I would like to say I’ve heard. But as she knows I'm seeing her tomorrow for lunch, would you believe in Cambridge. So I guess it would be unlikely for her to call me. A pal of mine has lent me his cottage just outside of Cambridge. And strangely enough I had arranged to go up there, even before I was fortunate enough to meet the very delightful Jackie.’ ‘Well call me a matchmaker if you like, but in your case I'm more than delighted. So that allows me to go to sleep happy. Anyhow I'll leave it at that, just say hello for me. Give me a call when you come down to London. Apart from that, give me a call anyhow to let me know how it all went.’ ‘Cous, I will be delighted too.’ ‘Okay, I won't say another word, and it’s bed for me.’ ‘Night Sue.’ ‘Night James.’ Clicking off the phone, at the same time thinking that she was none the wiser concerning the late professor. But how could I bring that into the conversation, when James was totally overwhelmed by Jackie. That little mystery would solve itself, on reading next weeks newspapers. And no doubt that James was beginning to wonder as to why I had really called. It began to dawn on Sue that half the night had gone, before sleep even had a chance to take over. The morning it seemed came only too soon. Sleeping on her multitude of questions had not helped. Not only that, more questions were constantly cropping up. That were continuing to bombard her head with an unrelenting persistence. Saturday at last, the start of the weekend proper. Was Sue’s first hazy impression. The morning that was so appreciated by the likes of Mike. When

Friday evening was more liquid than actual food. And it was to everybody’s surprise when they found out that Friday’s lunch had suddenly emerged into Friday evening. With the overall consensus being, well it's Saturday tomorrow with plenty of recovery time. Sue knew that she was not completely innocent of such behaviour on the occasional Fridays. But her immediate thoughts were not about wondering if Mike was feeling sorry for himself. While her mind lazily wandered as she lay in bed, now with sunlight filtering into the room, at the same time thinking that it was about time she got the day underway. For a start get herself out of bed. With a little bit of effort to try and put some clarity if not perspective on the disturbing events of the last few days. The clicking of milk bottles, plus the hum of the milk-mans, milk float. Quickly followed by the noise of the morning paper being pushed through the letterbox. It was these sounds of early morning life, that finally got Sue to swing her legs onto the floor from the all too comforting bed, plus the overwhelming urge for coffee. Firstly making her drowsy way to the front door to pick up the paper. Eventually to sit at the kitchen table to scan the just delivered newspaper while coffee was brewing, to see if it yielded any more news on the death of the Cambridge professor. Having completed her early-morning toiletries, was again sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee in hand to continue perusing the “Telegraph.” Seeing from a quick scan of the headlines as of no interest, putting her coffee down, turned to the front page, where on page three she found what she was looking for. Under the headline “Cambridge professors death.” Which went on to say that the Cambridge police was treating the death of the eminent professor of advanced mathematics as murder. The deceased was named as professor Toms. The police would not divulge on how the professor was murdered. Except their own enquiries were continuing. Seeing the name professor Toms, Sue slowly lowered her coffee mug back to the table, distinctly ing Jackie mentioning this name and joking about it. That connection with Jackie, dismissed any further doubt that this would be the end of the matter. ing her hand over the mug to where the phone sat, only to pause before picking it up. Knowing she was about to phone James. Curiosity might well have killed the cat, but Sue had to know if James was aware or had even connected the death of Jackie’s tutor, was in fact the same one. Knowing all too well, you did not have to put two and two together that it was indeed the same one. It seemed unlikely to Sue that he would have even seen any newspapers, as she felt there was only one thing on his mind which was of course getting himself up to Cambridge. This was the end of any further rumination on Sue's part, and made

the call to James. At the same time having a flash of guilt, here was a guy on the way to meet possible the love of his life. To ask, what to him might well sound like a ridiculous question, if of course he had read the papers this morning? Sue’s journalistic antenna had kicked in as soon as she had read the news item about the murder of this Cambridge professor and she felt with a feeling of unease that this was only the beginning. When much more would come to light beneath this facade of academic learning. Gradually entangling anybody who would come too close. Fearing that James was drifting ever closer to this entanglement. It was with almost clairvoyant like clarity that she was beginning to see the events over the last few days. And the likelihood that Jackie was somehow immersed in this unfolding drama. Which was beginning to have menacing overtones. That were growing evermore darker in a very short space of time. And the undeniable name of Jackie's tutor, professor Toms that had now pushed its way to the forefront of any further speculation. While knowing all too well that this piece of undesirable news was not about to disappear any time soon, only to linger in any of her further deliberations. Casting the newspaper aside she stood up having thoroughly assimilated the item about the Cambridge professors death more than once. Further reading of the same article was in no way going to contribute to the action that was needed. Get hold of James once more was obviously the answer. And somehow put it delicately to James, the report about Jackie’s murdered tutor, in this morning’s newspapers. But this time get right to the point, and perhaps not so delicately. This ominous revelation and problematic situation was not something that she felt could be kept to herself. Knowing only too well when she had reported on such cases in her past life, if only from a sheltered distance. But now it had come intimidatingly close, and personal. Not only that it was beginning to feel far too close for comfort. That was now devouring any peace of mind that was already crumbling into a myriad of feelings and speculations.

Chapter 19

Stirring from a restless sleep, rolling over onto her right side hoping to find a more comfortable position that would induce sleep. It was not as if she could not sleep, it was an annoying habit of a dream that kept on repeating itself. Like a TV movie that you have seen many times before, but every time you try to change the channel, back it came with annoying frequency. It certainly did not have any relationship to those other dreams that had once dominated her slumbers. Jackie lay there with eyes shut trying to regain the threads of sleep that were so missing. What was the dream she thought to herself? A car, opening the door, closing it, a comfortable warm soft seat, so nice, so comfortable, so warm, drifting off to sleep, a party, drinks, again again and again. People holding drinks, talking, lips moving in an overall silence. Moving ever closer to an open door, and again to that car. So good to sleep. A deep sleep. So very very... Deep. ‘It’s no good,’ Jackie muttered to herself, heaving herself up to a more upright position. ‘I give up, that dream is driving me totally crazy, obviously sleep is not for me.’ But even in wakefulness the dream was still hovering in her consciousness. Pulling the pillow up behind her back, suddenly realising all was not quite what it seemed. At least not the room that she was so familiar with. In her own room during the day there was always a shaft of light from the window that penetrated the darkness. In the morning, early rays of sunlight would tell her near enough the time, without having to reach for your watch. She always thought that was a much more civilised way of wakening. Realising now there was no window, or daylight. Did she out? Surely not, it was not that kind of party. Not the kind of parties that students are known for. Certainly no drinking to excess, or ts being ed around. As recollection began to drift slowly back through the misty events of the previous evening. She felt pretty sure she had remained fairly sober, there was no way she could have put herself in such an embarrassing position. Where am I for god sake? She stared into the room, there was nothing that looked at all familiar, only very vague shapes that showed up from that low light that was coming from somewhere in the ceiling. Something must have happened to me, but what? Am I in a hospital? Can't be that, at the same time feeling all her limbs, neither could she feel any kind of pain, let alone even a headache. But more disturbing there was absolutely no

sound whatsoever. Confusion and disorientation quickly followed by fear. Jackie pulled her knees up to her chest while reluctantly turning her head to take in the rest of the room. While noticing that her recently bought dress was hung neatly over the back of a nearby chair. At least her bra and panties were still on, giving her the peace of mind that it was unlikely she had not been sexually assaulted. Still not understanding the starkness of the room she found herself in. As her eyes gradually became more used to the dim light of the room, a light that seemed to be recessed into the ceiling. She saw there was a bedside lamp, leaning over she switched it on. This light now showed her in more detail of her surroundings. She immediately looked over to the door. What she saw jolted her sense of comprehension, as she stared at a flat led door, but minus any handle. Looking from the door to the ceiling, close to the light there was a small TV camera. Similar to the ubiquitous CCTV security cameras that seem to be everywhere now. Also hanging from the ceiling was a flat screen monitor that reflected back an image of herself, against the austerity of the room. Though what seem totally out of context with the rest of the room, there on the bed side table, was a glass of orange juice. Plus a selection of scientific magazines, mixed with copies of Vogue and Harpers. At the same time noticing that the bed linen was of a high quality. What she had not noticed at first, was an envelope that was on the magazines that appeared to be unsealed. Hesitantly she reached out her hand and picked up the envelope, taking out the letter, started to slowly read it to herself. My Dear Ms Trent, I know this is a difficult situation that you find yourself in. But please do not be alarmed, no physical harm will come to you. It is in my own interests to keep you well and healthy. You will be shortly taken from where you find yourself to another country. I must ask you to try and accept this situation. There is no way that you will be able to escape, so please do not even try. You’ll find that the room you are in is completely soundproof. So any you might try and make would be futile. As perhaps you have noticed by now, there is frozen food and drinks in the refrigerator. Plus the various bathroom facilities for your well-being. Sincerely, F.L.

Trying to take in the uncompromising attitude of the message, to what she had just read, she let the note fall from her fingers to the floor. Covering her mouth in disbelief as it confirmed the reality that she now found herself in, she made herself look once more over the room, trying to take in to what she saw. There seemed to be toilet and shower facilities. Against the wall facing her was a small refrigerator, beneath a kitchen top, where there was a microwave oven. Trying to understand what all this meant, she suddenly recalled a book that she had once read about a girl who was kept, like how a stamp collector collects stamps. This was not an image that did anything to calm down her immediate anxiety. Telling herself not to think such stupid thoughts. It did not take long before the realisation as to why she was here began to gradually sink in. Any form of panic was not going to help her to escape the general bleakness that she had to confront. She knew there was no other word that said it all, a prisoner. There was no other answer to this plight that was gathering around her. What was beginning to become apparent after reading that note, as to why she was in this fraught situation that someone had gained knowledge of her phenomenal insight into mathematical theories, together with her research into nuclear fusion, whoever it was believed that knowledge she had acquired, would bring that particular technology very much closer, along with untold power and domination. Biting her lips as these random thoughts took flight, swung her legs off the bed to the floor. She sat there knowing it was useless to go over to the door that lacked any means of exit. She had no other option but to wait and to contemplate as to what the very near future had to offer. It was a starkness that she had never encountered in her life until now. That was far from everyday comfort that she had once known. After some moments of confused pondering of what the future could possibly hold, the thought of James suddenly took over, our Saturday lunch what will he think? The lunch almost took over in importance to her immediate dilemma. But it was only a momentary moment. The position she was in came back with even more harshness. Emphasising the utter hopelessness of her predicament. While still wondering how she had ever got here in the first place, only ing that voice, constantly repeating, nothing, nothing. She had the over whelming feeling that there was still so little that she could do, as if that voice that was dominating her head, believing that it was the only thing she could possibly answer too. That voice again and again, not to worry, worry, drifting trance like once more into a deepening sleep. Slowly slumping back onto the pillow of the bed as her eyes closed, obeying that interminable voice that echoed through her head that reiterated a mantra, with a pulsating frequency.

Chapter 20

Deciding to first finish her coffee before phoning, would help to generate a little more time to mull over the issue of the murdered Cambridge professor. While thinking on how she was going to approach the subject with James. She did not want to seem like an overprotective busybody. But the call to James had to be made. And at the same time, it could not be denied if there was in fact actually going to be any kind of connection what so ever. After all, she had only just been wondering if James had read anything in the morning papers. Even if he had, it was somewhat unlikely that he would have formed any kind of association. Immediately coming to the conclusion that she was being a bit silly about the whole issue. Having now downed what was left of the coffee she placed the now empty cup back on the table, and decided there was only one way to find out for sure, which was to phone. Coming to conclusions that this was not the time to be indecisive. Picked up the phone that she had been vacantly staring at for the last few minutes and tapped in his mobile number, before thinking of any good reason not to. ‘Come on James, answer.’ Sue muttered to herself. The ringing tone continued for eight or more times. Putting the phone down before she was about to get the. “Please leave a message after the tone,” not wanting to leaves some kind of garbled message. Anyhow she thought, he’ll bound to see the missed call message. She had the feeling she was not getting too far concerning this Cambridge professor. Last night when she could have said something, now not being able to. ‘How bleeding annoying.’ She said as she put the phone back on the table. ‘I’ll just have to wait until he decides to call back.’ It was Sue’s guess, that either he had turned his mobile off to get an undisturbed lay in on a Saturday morning before he took off on his drive to Cambridge. Or he had switched it off entirely, so not to be distracted while driving. With luck it would at least give her a couple of more hours or so in which to put her thoughts into some kind of rudimentary order. That in itself was no easy task. The trouble being that even more questions were forever bubbling up, in an unrelenting torrent. To cause even more confusion, all these hows and wherefore’s, not to mention the maybes, and along with a few perhaps, of this continuing frustrating irritation. Sue stared back at the telephone as if to make it ring. It was not often that she

was lost for directions. But it was becoming all too obvious there was little she could do for the time being. Reaching over for the coffee, but ing the cup was empty, turning her attention once more to the telephone. While knowing at the same time there was little point in trying. ‘Bugger it.’ Speaking to herself in her frustration, stood up from where she was sitting, and went over to the kitchen hoping at least to find there was some more coffee still left in the pot. Going back to the table with a cup of half warm coffee, this time she turned on her iMac. Not that she was an eMail junkie, that was one rule she had set for herself, not to be for ever checking her mail. The one thing most of her friends knew, if ever they wanted to get hold of her urgently. They were told in no uncertain manner to use that thing called a phone. that function on your mobiles, she would kid them. There was little else she could do, being at a bit of a dead end. At least it would the time. Aiming the mouse at the postage stamp icon at the bottom of the screen. Up came the eMail window, and clicked on “get mail.” Hoping that Jackie would be one of the few people that might benefit from having her eMail address, and perhaps she might have even sent one. Knowing that she had not checked her mail for the last couple of days, could there perhaps be something? Getting eMails was certainly not the reason for getting her Mac in the first place. Looking at the Mac, and ing with some amusement at the time when she had bought it. The experience was totally unlike any other store. What she had not been expecting was the reverence that the product produced. It was not only the staff who spread their almost devotional like enthusiasm to the buyer on what they were selling. It was then she came to the conclusion that if Mac decided to sell hamburgers they would have an immediate customer base. When ever she would happen to a Mac store, she felt that she should go in and give praise. It was almost like a new religion. And was now a convert to this doctrine. Knowing her PC of late had never achieved that kind of fevered loyalty. It was her new interest in photography, was the time she had treated herself to a multi pixel SLR camera. When a friend had shown her what she could do with any photographs she might take, if she had editing software which was really the primary reason for the Mac. The only downside she realised that hoisting her new camera around was a bit of a hassle. This was more than emphasised when she got hold of the latest iPhone. Now believing with some disappointment that her rather expensive camera had tended to gather dust at home. As the iPhone camera was more than good enough for most of the things she wanted to do. Apart from the fact you hardly knew you had it with you, unlike the rather weighty SLR. And knowing she had a means of taking photographs any time she needed, it was more than ideal for her, especially now, knowing that she always had a camera close at

hand in the form of the iPhone, it was without a doubt a definite asset. Though neither cameras could detract from the fascination of editing her photos through her recent purchase of editing software. For now photography had taken somewhat of a back seat. All thoughts of photography disappeared as a vertical row of blue dots on a white background appeared. There seemed to be about six messages, the first one was from her mother as were the second and third. The one thing that could be said about Sue's mother, she had completely taken to the Internet as a duck takes to water. The exception being her father, who was still lamented the disappearance of the black telephone. On more than one occasion was told that all you had to do was to stick your finger or pencil into the dial, no messing about there, was always his reply. Her mother had virtually given up on trying to get him to carry his mobile, with that kind of attitude to overcome. But the fourth glowing dot took Sue slightly by surprise. It was from her fellow enger on the flight from Glasgow. I must have fancied him somewhat even then, to have given him my eMail address. Should there have been anyone else in the room they would have heard a mmm sound. Followed by Sue saying to no one but herself, ‘there’s something to think about.’ Finally coming to the conclusion that this particular eMail, that was simply asking if she was okay. Must had been sent around the time at the wine bar. Not wanting to be distracted decided not to click on any of the remaining blue have mail dots, Ted’s included. I wonder...if. The if bit of her reasoning was beginning to take on a life of its own. It starting to become apparent that there was a definite buildup of “if” in her immediate reasoning. At the same time she chastised herself that perhaps it might be a good idea to get her head into some kind of order. Like in the direction of some positive ideas. One idea that sprung to mind, seeing that her new acquaintance Ted, had eMailed her. Immediately wondering, and at the same time hoping that it was not going to sound too forward of her, to see if he might fancy lunch in Cambridge on Sunday. Hoping that direction could possibly be a good plan, should she had not ed Jackie by then. Well, that's my excuse she thought. Though that idea for the time being was perhaps a little premature. Not only that it seems a lot better than just sitting around in London doing bugger all. Even if that exercise yielded nothing, it would certainly help to keep the feeling of guilt away. The one good thing, was that Ted had already been put in the picture as far as the question of Jackie goes. Having now opened her disturbing concerns to Ted at that wine bar. For the moment it was a plan that she could keep in reserve, and put into action when the appropriate time made itself known. As much as she wanted to make with him she knew she had to wait, until she heard

to what James had to say. Hoping that he would be able to cast some fresh light on the situation that was becoming more disturbing by the hour. Looking at the clock, saw that it was coming close to midday, and still no call. Seeing the time, and having only had a couple of cups of coffee, and the sudden realisation caused by a pang of hunger, when it occurred to her that she had not eaten anything for breakfast, deciding now might be a good time to put together a sandwich. While wondering if James had already met up with Jackie in Cambridge, and was about to sit down for lunch. Certainly not the best of time to try now, not wanting to disturb what she thought could only be a romantic lunch. Having had finished her sandwich, washed down by a glass of wine she knew she must have dozed off, and was surprised to see that it was almost three thirty when the phone rang. Pushing herself abruptly up from the sofa, she grabbed the phone.

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‘Sue, it's me James.’ ‘You saw that I called you?’ ‘Sorry no, I had forgotten to charge my mobile, actually I'm calling from a callbox.’ Sue knew at once that all was not well with James. ‘You okay James? You don't sound your normal bright self. What's happened!’ ‘It's Jackie... you ed that I've told you that I had arranged to meet her for lunch here in Cambridge this Saturday morning. Anyhow I went to the place we had agreed on, it was at a river side pub called The Anchor. I found the place okay, and I even got there a little early. We had arranged to be there at one, I got there just after twelve thirty. I sat there until almost two, had a beer but no Jackie. I felt pretty sure that I hadn’t been stood up on purpose. As you can imagine I was feeling somewhat at a loss, as what to do.’

‘Go on James, I'm sure you were not expecting that.’ Sue could certainly tell by now how distraught James was. And was beginning to develop the same worries as James. For some reason only thinking the worst. While the article in the newspaper earlier today about the murdered professor had now taken on menacing connotations. ‘I thought the best thing I could do was to wander over to where her college was. I had by then the uncomfortable feeling that something was not right. When I got to the entrance of Trinity the first thing I saw was blue police tape across the entrance, with a couple of policeman standing there. I knew that something was very wrong. I asked an undergraduate who was looking on and he told me that one of their tutors had been murdered. That was when my worst fears came all too apparent when he told me that this murdered tutor was called Toms. ‘That's what my call to you was all about, I was wondering if you had seen the papers today. There was a few lines in the Telegraph about this murder. The paper also mention the name you just told me. I recall Jackie mentioning this name to me. Did you happen to find out anything else by any chance? Like where’s Jackie?’ ‘Yes... But not where she is. Not only that, it doesn't stop there. The police it seems do not know either.’ ‘The police?’ Sue repeated. Wondering where all this was going to end up, and it did not seem like a good place. ‘Yes, the police. When the student I had spoken to, told me that the murdered professor was in fact Toms, as you saw in the paper. It was only coming all too clear as to what had happened. As you might have guessed I was of course very worried about Jackie. Especially as she had not turned up for that lunch. I realised that the only thing I could do, was to ask one of the policeman standing by the police tape that was keeping any onlookers back from the entrance of her college. I asked if I could speak to someone in charge, and was immediately introduced to a Chief Inspector Coombs. I of course told him that I was concerned about Jackie. Telling him that I was supposed to be meeting up with her for lunch, and if there was any kind of connection. Immediately I mentioned Jackie's name I was taken very seriously. To cut a long story short I was asked to go to Cambridge police station with him. I was there for nearly 2 hours being questioned as to what I knew about Jackie. Of course as you know, not too

much. I went on to tell him that I had no idea where she might be. This is the real shocking part. It seems that Jackie is wanted in connection with the murder of Toms. Toms was murdered by a stab wound to the throat with a letter opening knife. It eventually turns out later that this knife had Jackie’s fingerprints on it. I don't know what to think. Or what on earth is happening, it gets even worse. Not only was she wanted in connection with Toms murder, now Jackie is actually wanted for his murder!’ Sue was stunned into silence, totally at loss for words. Her mind flying back to the premonition she had of Jackie’s possible entanglement that was brought on by that item of news she had read earlier. Now taking on a far greater significance than she could have possibly imagined. Only half hearing James’s distraught voice while trying to gather her wits together, and failing and ing all too well Jackie's words when she had first arrived at Sue’s home, and to a recent dream she had recounted, saying how frightened she had become. And to how these predictions were beginning to manifest themselves. A nightmarish whirlpool of events that was becoming more and more difficult to find any kind of solid ground. The last time she had felt so inadequate was the lookalike image of Jackie that had appeared that morning on Jim’s computer screen. And now this. A situation that was spiralling beyond any kind of comprehension, the more you tried to find any kind of clarity, even sanity. Together with a strong empathetic feeling for James, along with a deepening undercurrent of foreboding.

Chapter 21

‘Sue...Sue... Are you there?’ ‘Sorry James my mind went blank for a second, wanted for...?’ Sue paused, having difficulty on believing what James had just uttered. Desperately trying to find away to say it without having to articulate the word murder. Sue, still momently stunned into silence. James was quick to understand her shocked speechlessness. Went on to say in little more than a whisper, ‘yes murder. I know it’s difficult to believe. I'm sure you think like I do that it can't be true. But for the moment what else can you believe, when the police say they have Jackie’s fingerprints on the knife. At the moment they have very little option to say otherwise. But it doesn't exactly convince me, I'm sure that you, like me are also in a similar frame of mind. Let’s say she did stab Toms, it would've been more than likely in self defence. I feel convinced that she would've called the police. It just doesn't seem to add up. Apart from anything else, why has she disappeared? I only wish I had some answers, apart from my rather confused take on this whole thing.’ ‘I agree on what you're saying James, it certainly doesn't seem to add up with me either. As you say the police can only go along with the evidence they have in front of them. No doubt the police are going along the lines that he had made sexual advances to her. But that seems a bit unlikely to me. My gut feeling is just this, there's got to be something else going on.’ ‘I too go along with what you say, from what Jackie has told me about this professor Toms. He’s not what you might call a sexual predator. It’s all very upsetting.’ Remarked Sue, at the same time thinking, upset or not hardly comes into it, let alone do any kind of justice to the distressing incident that had been stealthy encircling them in an ever closing circle. With a growing awareness, the only thing she could be reasonably sure of was that the police knew nothing of Jackie's remarkable mathematical skills. Sue also thought it was unlikely that James did either. Knowing how Jackie did not want these abilities to be known to anyone. There would be no connection for the police in that direction. She could only guess that this professor Toms would also be in the dark on how she

arrived at these solutions. What if somebody had learnt that Jackie had these prodigious mathematical abilities? Going along with this line of reasoning, that this person he or she would quickly realise there could well be a huge financial rewards to be gained. For what it was worth Sue knew without thinking twice that these ing momentarily assessments did very little to expand on what was known all ready. ‘And what Jackie has told me about Toms, goes along with what you're saying. It's certainly not that easy to understand what is actually happening. Like you, I just don't see Toms going in the direction you mentioned. That kind of thing does happen. But in this case, I would have thought it would be very unlikely. Someone like Toms, and not forgetting the position he was in at Cambridge, it would have certainly have put his reputation at such risk. It just does not add up. I just wish we knew more.’ Said James in a voice filled with exasperation and despair. ‘What on earth can we do Sue? I’m totally at a loss. How did all this possibly happen. Only hours ago I was looking forward to lunch with Jackie, and now this. I feel that I have been completely blown away.’ ‘There is only one thing to do, and that's for me to come up to Cambridge. As they say two minds or heads, whatever are better than one. I can't just sit here feeling pretty useless, with you up there in Cambridge wondering what to do next. I'm sure there is something we can find out. I'll leave immediately, there are always plenty of trains to Cambridge. I can be there before the afternoon is over. Meet me at the station, I'll call you when I know what train I'm on.’ Before James could answer Sue put the phone down. Immediately going to find all the various necessities she might need to put in her shoulder bag, a bag that she was never without. Sue had plenty of experience from her old life, when some situation needed her quickly. It was in a matters of minutes, she was out of the front door. Heading for the Fulham road, and hailing an oncoming taxi. Within the next thirty minutes or so later, she was purchasing a ticket to Cambridge at King's Cross Station. Sue’s timing could not have been better, the train was due to leave within five minutes of getting the ticket. Strangely enough it was the first time today that she had been able to relax. Doing something was far better than doing nothing. Being a Saturday afternoon, the train to Cambridge had only a few engers, with the seat opposite empty, enabled her to stretch out her legs. At the same time allowing her mind to unwind, to confront the inexplicable happenings in Cambridge, to try to find some form of perspective. The train journey to Cambridge hardly gave her time for much in the way of

further insights, on the startling realities that were beginning to unfold at a rapid rate. The one thing she did realise from her past experience of newspapers, and most other kinds of media, that what was true one minute, the opposite was true the next. The most important thing in her shoulder bag was that she still had her reporter’s ID. To flash at whatever authority she might come across. Where James would more than likely just be stonewalled. But as things stood at the moment she very much doubted that the police would be able to expand on what they already knew. Which really was not that much, besides the damming fingerprints on the letter opener. Also they had no idea of Jackie's whereabouts. But what was also true, neither did anybody else. Not even twenty four hours had ed, so it was not surprising how little was known. Sue was out of her seat as soon as the train came into Cambridge station. With her bag now back on her shoulder she made her way out of the open door of the carriage. She was one of the few engers that had left the train. Even before she got to the ticket barrier, she immediately saw James, whom she had just called whilst still on the train, leaning on the barrier, scanning the platform for her. Giving her a wave as he spotted his cousin, and was given a wave back as Sue hastened her pace to the exit and James. ‘That was pretty quick Sue.’ As he gave her a quick hug. ‘Where do we go from here? My mind, you could say is a bit of a blank, as you no doubt gathered from that phone call of mine. The question remains as to what do we do next?’ ‘Is it James? So I'd better give you some enlightenment in that direction. And perhaps you can kick your brain back into action again. To keep things simple, while you reignite your brain. First things first, let me get rid of this bag, or at least some of the things in it, as it’s bit heavier than my normal day-to-day bits and pieces.’ ‘Sorry Sue, I'm still not thinking, my car is in the station car park. As soon as we get to it, we can drive to that cottage I told you about. Which gives you the chance to dump off all your stuff there. It's only a ten minutes drive from here. We’ll be there in no time at all.’ The cottage was up a narrow muddy farm track. Where they came to a halt outside an ivy and rose clad cottage. Which looked as though it had been a home for some farmworker and his family in the early part of the last century or even before. Had this not been such a fraught occasion, these attributes of the cottage

went unspoken, which at any other time would have been the cause for delight. ‘This is it.’ Said James, breaking what had become somewhat of a sombre silence that had engulfed them since they had left the station. Having lightened her bag of non-essentials, Sue went back down the stairs to find James slouched on the sofa looking some what forlornly at the carpet in front of him. Hearing her enter the room, James looked up. It was Sue who broke into James’s despondency. ‘Okay James, it’s no good sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves. This is no place for apathy. It’s Jackie who has the problem, not us. Now don't start to think I'm not being sympathetic. But this is no time not to be clear as to what we have to do. So let's not waste any more time.’ Sue did not have to finish her unspoken thoughts, James finished what ever they might have been for her. ‘Find her, but where do we start? It's almost as if she has disappeared into thin air. And what with the police now saying, that she is wanted for murder. It almost stuns you into inaction. And as you say, that is a luxury we cannot afford.’ Sue, nodding her head in agreement, going on to say, ‘what we do know is that the police are certainly trying to find her without much success.’ James who was now looking more thoughtful than earlier, remained silent as Sue continued. ‘So whatever the police line of questioning was, and you know a little about that I'm sure, has up to now produced as far as we know absolutely nothing. Anyhow what seems like a good idea to me, which I expect you will agree with is to get ourselves over to where Jackie resided and studied. And it would be my guess this was where she was last seen. I'm sure we'll find some of her fellow students milling around who might be more open with us. Hopefully more so, than when they were interviewed or questioned like yourself, by the police. I always feel that anybody will always be a little intimidated when coming under their scrutiny. Invariably I’m sure, there is the shock element when it comes to murder.’ ‘As what you say makes a lot of sense. Unlike when we were kids, I seem to you've got us into all kinds of trouble. But without fail you seem to find an answer to get us out of some kind of mess or other. I can only hope that you still have that ability.’ Sue grinned at that memory before saying, ‘so do I. Apart from all that, what do you do for food around here?’

‘What was I thinking? My apologies Sue, I completely forgot to ask you if you have eaten anything so far today. I guess you are more than a little peckish. There’s quite a good fish and chip place on the way into Cambridge, we could quickly get something to eat there, if that's alright with you.’ ‘That sounds like a very good idea, my mouth is already watering. All I’ve managed to have so far today is my morning coffee and a not too filling sandwich. As much as I love fish and chips, don't you think if we’re going to get something to eat, why not go to that riverside pub where you were supposed to meet Jackie at, and eat there. And my bet is they will also have fish and chips. ‘Of course! I'm not thinking yet again. I guess I'll be at a total loss as what to do next, should you not have been here. I cannot say how thankful that you are. You're right. The Anchor would at least give us some kind of starting point.’ Driving back the same way they had just come, while having to drive around in what seemed to be in circles. Trying to find a place to park the car. Finally managing to find a space not too far from where they wanted to be which was only a short walk to the riverfront, and “TheAnchor.” As the last rays of daylight were drawing in, the riverside lights were beginning to reflect on the shimmering waters of the River Cam. The summer season had yet to get fully underway making it easy to find a table on the wooden jetty that jutted out into the river, with the sound of water lapping against nearby moored punts and creating a calming affect over the anxiety that had blighted their day. It was James who spoke first as he looked out over the flowing river. ‘Well this is it, this is where I sat in the expectation of meeting Jackie. I forget now how many times I must have looked at my watch, it must have been the best part of two hours. Hoping against hope that she would eventually turn up. But as you know it was a forlorn hope. Together with the realisation that the chair I was sitting on was no longer so comfortable. The only answer was to get up and walk over to Jackie's College. From there you know the rest of the story up to now.’ James looked at Sue for a second, wondering what he could possibly add only for Sue to finish his recollection for him. ‘That’s when of course you knew for sure what had happened. The police interview must have come as a bit of a shock. I know it would have done for me. You must have been somewhat shaken from that rather unexpected interrogation you had to sit through.’ ‘Thinking about it, shaken is a bit of an understatement to say the least. I came

out of that police station not knowing what to think, or what to do. You might have guessed that was when I decided to call you. It was difficult enough being in the position of hardly knowing anything. As you might well understand. The little I did know when I was being questioned, I had to repeat time and time again. It's no wonder that people confess to what they didn't do. What I do know, as I mentioned before is that I feel very relieved that you're here. I don't know about you, but I think the fish and chips on the menu will be a little too much for me. Feeling as tense as I do. Anyhow I better have something, I guess I will go for one of their sandwiches.’ Sue nodded her head in agreement. ‘Yes, a sandwich would do me fine, I’m with you there, this situation does not do much for one's appetite, let's see what they got.’

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While eating nothing more than a cheese sandwich each, and both agreeing that nothing more than a shandy to wash it all down, than anything more alcoholic. Having finished their sandwiches, with Sue throwing a remaining crust to a patiently waiting swan, made their way from the pub, back into Silver street and eventually to Kings Parade. Finally reaching Trinity Street to where Jackie’s College was situated, which was the most likely place to make a start, while knowing it was the last place to where she was last seen. As they were coming up to Trinity College, James looked at Sue saying, ‘I just wish that I knew a little more about Jackie, and no doubt you do too. As you know the last time I actually saw Jackie was at my parent’s Sunday lunch. After that, it was just calls from my mobile. I know that I'm sounding a bit stupid, but I feel that I've known her for a lot longer. I her telling me how excited she was when she knew that she was getting a place at Trinity. Not only that, she told me she was lucky enough to get accommodation in the Great Court itself. Which is where evidently, the most sought after rooms are situated. She also went on to tell how steeped in history it all was. She once mentioned to me, that she had the feeling that Sir Isaac Newton was looking over her shoulder. ‘Look James, I don't think you sound stupid at all. I thought at once that both of

you clicked with each other straight away. I would have been surprised if you had not. Anyway the one thing we know for sure is Trinity, that is where we start as we agreed. And let's hope something like an apple drops on our heads to give us some kind of inspiration. Together with the hope of trying to find out what is actually going on.’ The one thing that Sue could not get out of her head, was that there was no way she was about to find an answer to this nagging issue any time soon. But that did not stop the constant invasion of any kind of idea that might have floated into this topic of concern, interfering with what had to be dealt with at this particular moment. Had Jackie mentioned her extraordinary mathematical skills to James? Not only that, it would be difficult to explain where they had come from, which would for sure stretch anybody's imagination. If she had, Sir Isaac Newton's presence would not happen to sound so strange. Though Sue thought it would be highly unlikely that she would have mentioned it to James. Knowing how uncomfortable it made her feel. Not something that you would want to muddy the waters with in the early part of a romance. With this thought in mind, she knew it would not help to bring up this little matter with James. James had certainly not made any mention whatsoever of this disconcerting question. Which made her pretty confident that James had no knowledge of this bewildering aspect of Jackie’s life. It had occurred to Sue, that it was fortunate she had not mentioned the cause of the wine glass incident in any detail. While knowing that particular digression would only detract from the main purpose of what they had to do. Once they were in Trinity Street they walked in silence towards the Great Gate at Trinity College. This entrance is set back from the road by a wide pathway. The relative tranquillity of where they were, was broken by the chimes of a clock somewhere in the grounds of Trinity College striking the hour. ‘Okay what now?’ James said, looking from the road to the gateway of the college. Sue could see by the look on James’s face that Jackie would somehow magically appear from beneath the archway of the gate. But in reality, only to see a solitary policeman who seemed to be the replacement for the two who had been there when they arrived. They both continued to walk slowly towards the Great Gate. Stopping when James felt Sue pulling on his elbow. ‘Wait James, there's no point in getting closer, there seems to be I would say, some plain clothes detectives by that policeman standing in the entrance of the

gate, if I am not mistaken. Let's not risk the chance that they might well you. Who knows they might haul you in for further questioning.’ James stopped abruptly. ‘Yes I think that you could possibly have a good point there. No need to push our luck in that direction. That one interview I had was more than enough for me. That I can do well without.’ As they moved away from the College, they both saw simultaneously a large poster of Jackie’s face on a sign that would have normally graced this spot, had there been a road accident. Only this time, it was asking you in blunt no nonsense English. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN. Should anyone have read further, it went onto say. If you have, please Cambridge Police Headquarters immediately on this number. Seeing this, brought them to an abrupt stop. It was like being slapped in the face for Sue, she felt her stomach turnover at the shock of what she was seeing, bringing home once more that time which had so traumatised her, when confronted by the shattering lookalike of Jackie on the computer screen, more than anything as to what she had read, or seen so far. Seconds went by before they could draw their gaze away from this stark reminder. To slowly walk away in silence, understanding at that moment the burden of responsibility they felt for Jackie. James biting his lips looked at Sue still at loss for words, eventually managing to say as they turned back into Trinity Street. ‘Like I said, where or what now?’ Despite being a Saturday night or maybe it was the hour, there were only a scattering of locals and students on the streets. A few in their unhurried evening stroll were suddenly confronted by something which would take only a few seconds to take in. Having a similar effect of a romantic film on TV, being interrupted by a horror movie trailer. When their own gaze was arrested by the incongruous blue and white police tape, now drawn across the ancient entrance. _____________________

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They had hardly reached Trinity Street, when Sue’s prediction came true. As

feared one of the plainclothes policeman who was beneath the arches of the Great Gate only seconds ago, detached himself from his fellow police officers. Who with deliberation strode quickly in the direction of James and Sue. It was a bewildered James when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Followed by an assertive voice saying, ‘you are I believe James Grant!’ Stopping, and both turning at the same time, looking at the man now confronting them. ‘Err yes.’ Responded a rather disconcerted James. Who was now staring at the man's police credentials. Understanding only too well who this man was, that was now addressing him. ‘We have been trying to you, sir. You might I was with Inspector Combs during that interview you attended earlier this afternoon. I happened to notice you, as you were walking away from the Great Gate a few minutes ago.’ James who did not this particular policeman at the interview, being only too fixed on the inspector. Said, ‘sorry, I must have turned off my mobile during the interview, I guess I forgot to turn it back on again.’ ‘Not to worry sir. Inspector Combs would like to have a few more words with you, I have a car just over there.’ Pointing at the car, at the same time lightly putting his hand on James’s arm. As if to emphasise the seriousness of his situation. Sue up to now had remained silent, more from surprise than being at loss for words. Together with the with feeling of being ignored. Which was when Sue decided to speak up. ‘I take it that you are not actually arresting him.’ Glancing at the arm of the detective that was seemingly assisting James in the direction of the parked police car. James quickly said. ‘This is my cousin, Sue Jameson, can she accompany me?’ ‘No miss, I’m not arresting him. I’m just asking Mr Grant to accompany me back to the station. Which I’m sure he will. And yes, you can come with us. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening like this. But as you know a very serious crime has been committed.’ The evening had taken on a far bleaker dimension of only minutes ago. The drive back to Cambridge’s Police station was short. As were the conversations,

before reaching to where they were going. Giving only time for Sue to clarify on how James had ed her, and that Jackie was a mutual friend. The word of murder entering the conversation was something she steered clear of. Sue was thankful that any more chit-chat was put to an end on arrival at the police station. Getting out of the car, they were told. ‘This way.’ They were led up the front steps of the police station. Sue was told to take a seat in the waiting area. While watching James being led away through a door behind the front desk, for a further interview with Inspector Coombes. Sue could only wait, trying to keep a cool front. On the seat beside her was a local newspaper, even before she was about to pick it up, saw the headline that she had only come too familiar with. And decided to leave the discarded paper where it was. Not needing any further speculation one way or the other. Trying once more to make some kind of sense that they now found themselves in or at least as far as James was concerned. Her rumination was abruptly broken into, on hearing. ‘Miss,’ at first not hearing, realising it was her who was being spoken to, Sue looked up. The same detective constable that they had met earlier, was now standing at the doorway that James had earlier been led through, saying once again ‘Miss.’ Sue immediately jumped up from where she had been sitting. ‘I'm sorry Miss, but Inspector Combs has decided to hold Mr Grant for a period of 48 hours. While we make further enquiries into this case.’ Sue look startled and confused before being able to say anything. ‘You're holding James... But why?’ ‘Sorry Miss, but I'm unable to give you any further information. But Mr Grant has asked to see you, so if you would come this way please.’ Sue followed him through the door where he had been standing. Down a corridor, stopping at a glass door that had the name Chief Inspector Coombes in solid black lettering across the middle. She also noticed that there was a uniform policeman standing outside of the door. On entering, there was the inspector behind his desk, with James sitting opposite. James on hearing the constable say, ‘in here Miss.’ Turned to look up at Sue. What Sue saw was a rather ashen face James. ‘James! What's happening...?’ Said Sue with shock and disbelief undeniably etched

across her face. Only to assume, it was because of James’s close association with Jackie that he was being held. Before James had a chance to respond, the inspector spoke instead. ‘You are I believe, Miss Jameson a friend of Mr Grant here. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I can only grant you a brief moment with Mr Grant. Due to the rather serious circumstances that Mr Grant finds himself in.’ James quickly spoke out. ‘I’m sorry to get you into all of this. But I guess that I better get to the point. Could you call my father, and try and explain what's going on. I rather you did, rather than myself, as I'm a little too confused at the moment to trust my own judgement. The other problem is that I cannot even give you my keys to the car or to the cottage, as it seems they are going to search them. Sorry again to cause such problems for you. I had no idea it was all going to become such a mess.’ A rather shocked James, was left wondering what he could add, when the inspector butted in. ‘I’m sorry Miss Jameson, but I’m afraid I must ask you to leave now.’ Sue was only able to give a shocked looking James a perfunctory farewell. After being escorted out of the police station. Sue stood on the steps for a moment, somewhat dumbfounded by the turn of events. She looked up and down the street wondering which way to go at the same time totally at loss as to what to do next. All this was a far cry from when she had so innocently stepped into something that at the time, was no more than a pleasant lunch. Trying to recruit a possible person who would fit into this documentary that she was involved in. Now this. Jackie was only at that time, someone she only knew vaguely. Though now she had become a friend, who it would seem, was in a whole lot of trouble. But this did not detract from what had turned into a full scale drama. Where would it all end? What now appeared to be, as an impenetrable wall that was now confronting her. The coolness of the evening air sent shivers through her body. Or was it the foreboding of the unknown that was pervading her consciousness? Events were now accelerating at a far faster pace than Sue could have ever believed. Having at first been lulled by the emanating tranquillity of the surrounding colleges, in contrast to the violence that had come from such an unexpected direction. Sue felt as if she was falling into an abyss of blackness, where it was impossible to fathom out, if ever, the final outcome. Let alone what

immediate action to take.

Chapter 22

The colder evening air outside the police station was quick to make itself felt as she walked down the steps into the street, emphasising the realisation that a roof over her head was now lacking. That difficulty had to be solved quickly. All this, on top of the enormity of the situation that was not going to resolve itself any time soon. Sue continued on her unsure walk from the place that now had James incarcerated. Hopefully in the right direction, the street lights were now coming on as twilight was fast approaching. Sue glanced at her watch, to her surprise it was not as late as she had first thought, it had not yet even turned seven. Looking around, she found that her disoriented stroll had taken her back to the main college area of Cambridge. Being glad to see, that she knew more or less where she was. Eventually coming to a road where Sue was delighted to see across the road that she was about to cross, was an illuminated sign of a guesthouse, come small hotel, that said, “Vacancies.” Without hesitation she made her way across to this place, hurrying up its front steps, knowing now it was only a question of minutes before she could be standing under a hot shower. This was the obvious place to regain her breath, and to take stock of what the immediate future might hold. Within those few minutes she was being shown into a room that had a comfortable looking bed, and more importantly, its own bathroom complete with shower, that she had only just imagined. It was this she knew with absolute certainty would bring her back to life again. If there was only one thing that Sue’s journalistic life had told her, never to be with out your shoulder bag. Where all the requirements of one's personal survival, together with all those very necessary bits and pieces would be at hand. Before throwing her bag onto the bed, she took out her mobile phone knowing that she must James’s father. Fortunately his father was in the right profession for such an occasion, being a prominent QC. Sue scrolled down to Jame’s family home phone number, and made the call. Standing by one of the room’s windows she stared out onto the street that she had just left, while listening to the ringtone. Almost hoping that no one would be at home, thinking briefly what does one say to someone whose son is being held in a police cell. Being questioned as a possible suspect in a murder case. Just as she was almost beginning to heave a sigh of relief, when it seemed that no one was going to answer her call. Saying to no one but herself, ‘I'll let it ring just one more time.’ When her call was answered.

‘Hello.’ Instantly recognising James’s fathers voice. ‘It’s me, Sue.’ Feeling for a split second, and for reasons she did not fully comprehend, that she was only ten years old. And was about to give out a garbled explanation, that it was not James who had stolen apples from the orchard. Before Sue could really organise her immediate thinking to what she was about to say in a more coherent way. James's father spoke once more. ‘Sorry Sue, James is not here, he’s gone to Cambridge to meet that rather attractive girl you brought to our Sunday lunch when we last saw you. Haven't heard from him since he left.’ ‘No, it's not that... it's about James.’ Not knowing what she was about to say, Sue rushed on. ‘James is in police custody. He was arrested late this afternoon, James is now in Cambridge police station. Under the suspicion of being a murder suspect.’ James’s father echoed Sue's words. ‘Am I hearing you correctly? You are saying that James has been arrested! I think you had better elaborate Sue, on what you are telling me.’ Sue on hearing the tone of his voice change, knew she had his full attention. Starting from when James should have met up with Jackie. How James had called her. ‘That was when I found out what had happened to her, and how the police saw Jackie as their prime murder suspect, when her incriminating fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. It was after James’s phone call, I knew that I had to go to Cambridge to see how I could be of help .’ But leaving out on how she got to know Jackie in the first place. That would only muddy the waters for anybody to take in. James's father quickly came to the conclusion that there was very little he could do so late in the day. As by the time he would arrive, anybody with any authority would not be available. Telling Sue that he would drive to Cambridge at first light tomorrow. The starkness of the situation became all too apparent, even more so with the overwhelming realisation of now been completely alone. Having no one that she could bounce an idea off. It suddenly occurred to her, that before all this had taken such a dramatic turn for the worse. ing that she had contemplated in asking Ted if he would be interested in having lunch in Cambridge. That was until James’s frantic telephone conversation. Which immediately put any such idea out of her head.

Looking at her mobile that was still grasped in her hand, after that tense conversation. Sue found herself once more scrolling through the phone’s stored numbers, finally coming to Teds, at the same time, deliberately not giving herself time to thing whether this was a good idea or not. And tapped in the number. This time her call only rang once. When she heard Ted’s hello.

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‘Ted, it's me Sue.’ ‘What a nice surprise, funny I was just thinking about you, who says there's nothing in telepathy.’ ‘I got your eMail, sorry I didn't mail you right back. I take it that you did not become a virus victim.’ ‘Fortunately no, I more or less isolated myself at the Beep. I guess you didn't either.’ ‘You guessed right, I’m in Cambridge at the moment, and events here have taken a rather unexpected turn. No doubt you'll that strange story I told you about, concerning that friend of mine, Jackie.’ ‘Only too well, in fact I saw it in the Telegraph this morning something about the murder of a Cambridge professor, I was wondering if there was any connection. To be honest, that what was prompting me that perhaps it would be a good idea get in touch with you. Is there a connection you know of?’ ‘Yes, you’re certainly on the right track there. But it only gets worse. Apparently Jackie has been accused of the professor’s murder. The only reason until now that she has not been arrested is that they, thats the police can't find her. It seems that she has disappeared into thin air, not only that, I don't know if I told you about my cousin, when we had that drink. And it would seem that Jackie’s would be boyfriend, James that’s my cousin I just mentioned, was going to have lunch with her here in Cambridge, expecting her to turn up. Only, that did not happen. That is basically the starting point of this mess. Except it gets even more

ridiculous, James is now in police custody as a possible suspect too. I'm sorry if I've rattled on a bit.’ ‘Not at all, it would seem you have been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. With you as the reluctant enger, I guess. You certainly seem to have more than enough going on around you. Can I be of help some way or other...?’ As Ted hesitated, Sue quickly went on to say, ‘sorry to burden you with all this, but you're the only person I know who knows what I'm talking about, when it comes to Jackie. I know it's Saturday night, but... How do you feel about having lunch here tomorrow. I know it's asking a bit much.’ ‘Not a problem, lunch tomorrow. What's more, I'll do better than that. Instead of yet another Saturday night wasted around at my local which I can really do without. I'll drive up this evening. I'm sure I can be there in less than two hours. Cambridge is not that far away, and at this time of the evening, the roads are not too busy. You could have not asked at a better time, as I'm on a five day break. Sounds like a good idea to you? Let's talk more on my arrival. Fortunately I haven't got around to my local. So I don't have to worry about being breathalysed on my way up to you. I’ve got virtually nothing to pack so I'll be on my way. See you in no time at all.’ ‘Ted I don't really know what to say, that would be really marvellous. Call me on my mobile when you get here. For the first time since arriving in Cambridge she felt as though as if the ominous dark cloud that had mired her day had moved on. Having some one to react with was no small measure of relief. There would be at least someone to lean on, if not physically but someone to actually talk to, and swap ideas. She knew in her heart that she had formed an attachment to Ted. A soulmate if nothing else. Knowing all too well that to be alone in a situation such as this, made you feel very vulnerable. With the arrival of Ted, it would certainly reinvigorate her resolve, together with the inner strength that she so desperately needed at this time. Realising that she was still holding her mobile, put it on the bedside table at the same time swinging her legs up onto the bed and slumping back. Giving a deep sigh of relief, of finally being able to relax, if only for a while. Staring at the white blankness of the ceiling which had come a reflective space for further inexhaustible presumptions, but at the same time was daring her to close her eyes. Just only for a moment she said to herself. It was with sudden abruptness

she sat up, startling even herself. ‘Have that shower.’ she said out aloud. ‘This is no time for dozing off.’ But knowing all along sleep would have been difficult to take hold over this swirl of rapidly forming events. The incidence of the last few hours, that had exploded into a myriad of possible directions. She knew if not for herself, that she had to sound reasonably coherent by the time that Ted arrived. One thing for sure it was not going to get any less complex. It was real life murder, and not the more nebulous world of the paranormal which now had taken the upper hand. Murder was all too real, leaving you dazed and shocked for those in its immediate path. Stripping off, she headed to the shower, not only to freshen her body, hoping it would also expunge any negativity she might have been feeling up to now. Wrapped in a towel, with hair still wet from the shower she crossed over the room to sit on the edge of the bed, and sat down. Feeling more or less like her old self. Looking down at the clock on the bedside table, she noticed that just over an hour and a half had ed since she had ed Ted. The temptation to sleep had now evaporated along with the despondency that had been pervading her mind. In turn putting the brake on all those runaway thoughts that threaten her from taking any evasive action. While in the past she had been in close proximity to events of this nature. With only very little else to do on such occasions, it was only a question ultimately to do what was demanded. With no more emotion than that of a camera taking a snap. It was only now she had began to understand how this kind of shock can imprison the mind into a lack of positive endeavour. This was one factor that Sue could not allow to take hold, knowing it would be of little help either to James or herself. To ward off what ever next that this sinister malevolence might make its presence felt. It had over taken not only Jackie, but had cast its ominous shadow on anyone who came too close. There was little else that she could do now, except to wait for the arrival of Ted. While trying not to lose the calmness that she had regained that had been so missing for far too long. Bolstered by the knowledge of Teds imminent arrival that was augmented by a feeling of excitement. and anticipation.

Chapter 23

With that all important call to James's father now out of the way together with the good news that Ted was actually on the way to Cambridge at this very moment made her feel a lot more optimistic than she had been for quite some time especially having someone to confide in. Just the thought of having someone to bounce an idea or two around would be more than welcome. ‘Two heads had never seem more apt, that was only too true,’ was her immediate reaction. She explained to her own reflection while trying to comb out the tangles of her damp hair. Sat back, staring at the dressing table mirror and thinking that she should perhaps try and make herself look just a little more alluring. When from somewhere on the bed, her mobile phone burst into life. Hastily combing her hair out of her face, at the same time leaning over to stretch out her arm towards the bed, grabbed the phone, saying straightaway before Ted got a chance to say anything. ‘Ted, you don't know how good it is to know you’re here. Without a doubt, you are my knight in shining armour. That was pretty quick, I thought it would take you much longer.’ ‘Yes, it’s me. Though I’m not too sure about the shining armour bit. There wasn't much in the way of traffic, I guess everybody must be in the pubs. I've only just got here, and have just parked the car in some public car park, didn't want to get it clamped or towed away or some other terrible fate to befall it.’ ‘Where are you exactly?’ ‘That's a good question, to tell the truth, I'm not too sure. I know the town a little, from the days when I had some aspiration for getting into Cambridge. What I do know, is that place called the Great Gate. I guess that's part of your friend Jackie’s College, Trinity. That you mentioned once to me. So with a bit of luck I guess I can find it, but if not, you better come and rescue me.’ ‘Anyhow you're here, yes I do know where the Great Gate is. That's more are less where all our troubles started when I got here. Well, the Great Gate it is. Let's say we meet there in about...Fifteen minutes or so, okay with you? Oh, and I took the liberty of getting you a room at the small hotel where I'm staying. My treat.’

‘Okay, look forward to seeing you there. Can’t wait.’ With her hair, still looking as if she had just come out of the shower, quickly putting back on her clothes once more, was out of the hotel and on to the streets, heading for Trinity’s Great Gate. Walking at a fast pace in the general direction of the college. Slowing down when she got to Trinity Street, just a little further on saw Ted standing at the corner of the short road leading up to the Great Gate of Trinity. Quickening her pace over to where he was, while coming up from behind, putting an arm around a surprised Ted. together with a peck on the cheek.‘So great to see you.’ Feeling more than happy at seeing him, at the same time her consciousness was telling her that this was no time for a romantic interlude. Going on to say before Ted had a chance to speak. ‘Seeing you missed your Saturday night drink at your local, lets go to a pub near here. There is one called the Eagle that I just ed, not too far from here.’ ‘I know the one.’ said Ted as they strolled in the direction of the pub. ‘I was once doing a programme on DNA. It happens to be the researchers favourite watering hole. It's a good pub.’ After a short walk Ted was shoving the door of the pub open, and following Sue in, saying to her as they came up to the bar, ‘if I rightly a Chardonnay is your tipple. It looks as though we might have to stand at the bar and drink. Saturday evening is not the best of times to find a table.’ ‘Yes, a Chardonnay would be more than perfect. As you say finding a table is a bit unlikely. Not to worry, I think better standing up.’ Ted came back from the bar, holding his beer, together with the wine for Sue. Giving her the glass of wine while holding out his beer to Sue. Saying, ‘here's to...to?’ ‘To getting to the bottom of all this... Nightmare sooner, rather than later. But how? I have to ask myself. I am no longer sure where all this is heading. Anyhow cheers. Sorry I should be more positive,’ giving an appreciative smile to Ted. ‘Thanks again for coming. It's made me feel a whole lot better.’ A few moments of contemplative silence went by, as they both took sips from their drinks. Before Sue could go on to where she had left off from that earlier phone call, was to give Ted a more complete update on recent events. Placing her wine on the bar, Sue looked straight at Ted saying. ‘I know what you must be

thinking, as to what on earth have I got myself into? I can hardly blame you for that. I certainly can't help but think that too. I was beginning to think that I would go mad not having anybody to speak to. What I must really say to you, is how much I appreciate you being here, it's so good to see you. The problem is just this, I'm not so sure where to start. Actually you know a little about Jackie after that rather strange story I told you when I last saw you. Should you have had any doubt about that rather perplexing incident, now having had time to give it some thought. You can see that there is a tenuous link. But what is still beyond me, is how quickly all this has happened. I certainly had no idea that it would take such a dramatic twist.’ Going on to tell Ted on how she had come up to Cambridge to lend to James. ‘And as I mentioned to you, when I called you, he is now still residing in a police cell, for further questioning. Luckily I was able to get hold of his father I'm sure he will be able to sort out James predicament, not only that he's a QC. To top all of that.’ Said Sue. ‘Jackie is, as I mentioned, now the prime suspect for murder, would you believe. So in a bit of a nutshell, that's it.’ Picking up her wine once more, and taking a generous swallow. Putting down the almost empty glass and saying. ‘What else can I tell you?’ It was Ted’s turn to look directly at Sue, at the same time taking a large gulp of his beer before remarking. ‘Well like yourself, I'm at loss as what to say, or what direction we should take, or come to that what to do. But I guess there has to be something.’ ‘Something is the operative word, I know I'm repeating myself, but what? When I worked for a newspaper it was not uncommon to go to the scene of the crime, or to the police station. And see if you could talk to witnesses. Just doing what every other crime reporter would do. But when it comes to yourself personally, I'm totally lost, stupid isn't it?’ ‘You have my sympathy, and I appreciate what you are getting at. It's almost as if your brain does not want to accept what it’s being forced to recognise. Just leaving you with an unsettling feeling of anxiety. But what can you expect, it's hardly what you might call an everyday situation that you suddenly find yourself in.’ From the corner of his eye. Ted saw something that reinforced their plight. There on the wall of the pub was yet another police poster of Jackie. Together with those words. “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN?” Up to then Ted had no idea as to what Jackie looked like. He now new that Sue was certainly not exaggerating when she said that Jackie was nice looking, if anything it was

slightly an understatement, she was indeed a very beautiful woman. It was when Ted’s last words had dwindled away to almost nothing. That Sue realised that his eyes were no longer focused on her. Turning around herself, looked in the direction that Ted seemed to be looking. Immediately seeing what had now grabbed his attention. Ted turning his head away from the poster to Sue, whose eyes were also transfixed on the image of Jackie said. ‘I guess with out any doubt it could only be your friend Jackie. She is without any doubt, what some might call somewhat of a looker.’ ‘Yes, that's Jackie alright.’ commented Sue. ‘There's even a larger poster at the entrance of Trinity. Though I didn't notice it when we met. Otherwise I’m sure I would have pointed it out to you. I guess they moved it to let in a car or something. I'll not be surprised if there's not more posters of her scattered all over Cambridge.’ ‘One would think, that with a face as beautiful as that it would be somewhat difficult to disappear into thin air.’ Said Ted more or less to himself, as he turned back once more to continue to stare fixedly at Jackie's image. Which abruptly transposed into a face of a girl that now stood in Ted’s line of sight. Ted looking slightly startled, as the face said. ‘You seem to be very taken with her, I knew her, I guess you could call her a friend of mine.’ Ted regaining his equanimity, as he came out of his trance like observation, at the same time saying nodding his head in the direction of the poster. ‘I'm sorry, did you say that you knew her?’ ‘Yes, we happened to share the same tutor, the one that was murdered. As you can see from that poster that you were looking at. That’s my friend, she’s the police main suspect. Though I find that hard to believe myself.’ Sue over the din and clamour of the bar around her, was able to catch the words “knew her.” Moving closer to Ted, to be able to hear more clearly the exchange of words that was going on with Ted’s newfound acquaintance. The girl talking to Ted realised that Ted was with Sue. Before the girl could utter another word, Sue interjected with one word. ‘Jackie.’

The name startled the girl, who turned her attention away from Ted. Looking more than a little surprised. Regaining her composure, saying, ‘it would seem that you too know of Jackie.’ ‘I do, as you might have guessed.’ Was Sue’s brief reply, wondering how to continue. Or what to divulge, ending up by saying, ‘we met in London. We became quite good friends, all this is a bit of a shock. I thought it might be quite a good idea if I came up to Cambridge to see if I could be of any help, but as you can imagine it’s difficult to know what to do.’ ‘Look.’ The girl said speaking more to Sue than Ted, ‘I was just saying that I was a fellow student, and that we both had that murdered professor as our tutor. Sorry, I can’t really talk now, I’m supposed to be working, I work here on Saturdays to get a bit of spare cash.’ Glancing up at the clock behind the bar said, ‘I’ll be finished in about an hour. Wait for me here, or if you are fed up with standing at the bar, there’s a late night coffee bar just around the corner on Kings Parade. You can’t miss it.’ Sue, looking at Ted as she said, ‘That sounds like a good idea. Otherwise, should we stay here we’ll bound to have another drink, and as things stand at the moment, not the best of ideas. And thinking about it, an espresso would go down very well. I can already taste the coffee. Some people know a good glass of wine, me there's nothing like a well brewed cup of coffee, espresso, cappuccino you name it.’

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Ted who was nodding his head in agreement, said, ‘I’m forced to agree with you there. Better keep a clear head. Oh by the way we haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Ted...’ ‘And, I’m Sue.’ ‘Judy.’ Their new acquaintance replied, as she started to pick-up glasses once more from a nearby table. ‘See you in about an hour at that coffee bar.’

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Easing their way to the door of the packed pub, Ted pointed in the direction they were about to walk. ‘Thats the corner I guess we should go around to get to that coffee bar. But as it seems we’ve got the best part of an hour to kill. Let's walk in the direction of the river, that should be easy to find.’ The streets were fairly deserted. The pubs had yet to turn out their inebriated or otherwise customers, to the reality of finding their next port of call, or for some to find a taxi to get home. After a short walk, eventually came to the bridge that crossed the River Cam, that overlooked the “Anchor”. Strolling a few yards on to the bridge, coming to rest against a stone parapet. Where they looked down at the river. The silence broken by the none stop swirling stream of the river as it flowed beneath the bridge, together with the wash of the water against the nearby pontoons where punts were moored. A perfect tranquillity, that could not have been more opposite of what they were feeling. Sue's gaze was transfixed by the almost mesmeric pull of the river, as she looked down on a couple of solitary drinkers sitting at one of the outside tables on “The Anchor’s” wooden jetty. The same spot where James had been looking forward to meeting up with Jackie once more and the promised lunch. And where earlier on where she had sat with James trying to figure out what to do next. Only for far more to have come about than she would have thought possible in such short space of time. Looking past the Anchor to the first lock on the Cam, before finally giving out a just audible sigh, and letting those not so far off recollections fade from her immediate thinking. Turning her face back towards Ted, saying with a glimmer of a smile hovering over her face. ‘This will teach you to speak to a stranger on a plane.’ ‘Never was a truer word spoken.’ Said Ted. Anyhow, apart from anything else, I would say we have made some progress. Fortunately we had the luck to meet this girl Judy in the pub, otherwise we would still be at square one. So let’s be thankful for small mercies. And see if we can make further progress from what we might be told by our new friend Judy.’ ‘Not wanting to sound pessimistic, but I would say, as to what we might be

about to learn. That my guess, would not be a lot, but who knows?’ Said Sue as she put her arm through Teds. Pulling him away from the parapet of the bridge, where he had been leaning. ‘Let's go, and find this coffee bar, and see what this new we've just met, Judy wasn't it? And see if she can shed any more light on what we already know.’ Heading back in the direction from where they had just come from. ing the corner down from the pub where they had been earlier, they saw that the pub was now emptying out. Still early, they made their way slowly back to Kings Parade when Ted spoke more to himself than Sue or anybody else in ear shot. ‘Who knows indeed, for what fate might have on offer, for around the next corner, be for us, could it be a coffee bar to be so welcome?’ ‘How very Shakespearean of you,’ Sue laughed. ‘For what I've experienced so for, I hardly dare to tempt fate in that direction, a good Espresso would more than satisfy me.’ ‘I guess you’ve had more than your fair share of fate of late. As for sharing, my advice is just this. Which is very simple, to do no more than enjoy our coffee.’ ‘Well, if nothing else, we can, as you say enjoy our coffee. And who knows, a coffee might well inspire us, with some kind of inspiration.’ Intoned Sue, at the same time not sounding at all convinced. ‘Well you are right with that word.’ ‘And what might that word be, that I seem to be so right about? That has so caught your imagination?’ Said the somewhat quizzical Sue. ‘Inspiration, being the word you just mentioned, I would say with a big capital I. Apart from that, I might suggest in the way of interest, that insight will somehow come about, with of course a modicum luck, or whatever. Or if you like intuition, to keep it as I said, simple. I also have the notion that I’m waffling on a little too much. And verging into total nonsense.’ ‘You with your intuition, and there I was believing you were the kind of person with their feet firmly attached to the ground. Well let's hope this intuition of yours will bear fruit.’ ‘See,’ said Ted, ‘you really never know anybody. And who knows what I might

come up with next.’ ‘I guess you're right, ok let's get over to this coffee place before we are struck down by any more of your intuitions. Before you the sceptic, start by being engulfed in premonitions.’

Chapter 24

Close to the corner on the other side of the road, that Judy had mentioned was the coffee bar where they had arranged to meet. Ted glanced at his watch while looking across at the coffee bar before remarking, ‘I guess we're still a little on the early side, but I'm sure that doesn’t bother you, and I can see by the look on your face that you can't wait to get a coffee down you.’ ‘You're so right,’ said Sue, ‘so what will be your coffee of choice? I think I'll play it safe, and go with a cappuccino, or I'll be up all night trying to get some sleep. That is one thing all considered I don't need.’ ‘Better stop me too,’ replied Ted, ’should I go for the espresso. Sometimes there is nothing quite like a frothy cappuccino what ever the hour.’ From where they were waiting at the curb for a break in the traffic to cross over to the coffee bar opposite, they could see through its bay windows. That the inside was lit by the warm light of candles, that reflected on the diamond shaped windows, silhouetting the late evening coffee addicts enjoying their favourite brew. Arriving at the door, Ted pushed against it, letting Sue in at the same time holding the door open to let someone else out. Closely following Sue in, who headed over to the only free table, that must have been vacated by the person who had just ed them on the way out. Ted ed Sue at the table. The interior appeared, as they had seen from the outside, to be lit only by the light of candles that were on each table. It took awhile for their eyes to become accustomed to the candlelight, or lack of it. Sue, who was about to pick up the menu, noticed on the seat of the chair beside her, was a newspaper. Being the newspaper journalist that she was at one time, and always the avid newspaper reader, she was not able to resist the temptation to pick up the paper to give it a brief scan. But when she pulled it open, resting her elbows on the table to read it, and had the light been brighter, Ted would have noticed that Sue's face had lost some of its colour. Replaced with a look of complete shock, unable to comprehend at what she was seeing. The paper was the “Daily Express”, not the tabloid edition of today, but the broadsheet of many years ago, and as Sue noticed, when she stared at the date, it was dated June 26.1942. ‘The scarf, the girl in the headscarf! It can’t be.’

Ted looking completely bewildered, managed to say. ‘What scarf...? What girl? I'm not too sure what you’re on about.’ Sue who had momentarily become speechless, just stared across at Ted, as she tried to find something coherent to say. Too many images were forming in her mind to get into any kind of verbal order. Finally saying. ‘You when I told you about the photos that I believed were just of an overgrown bomb site that I took when I went up to Scotland. But when the memory card of my camera was put in the computer, not only were the shots that I knew I had taken. But also that image of a girl in a head scarf, who as far as I am concerned should not have been there. Which certainly could not be denied, when I saw all my shots on the computer. That's the girl, but it can't be! It's her! Jackie, but it's not. And they say that the camera cannot lie.’ Ted once again recalling Sue's perplexing image concerning the computer story. While Sue at that time had remarked the reason for going to Scotland in the first place, saying it was something to do with the documentary she was working on. Recollecting what Sue had told him about the Scottish man she had interviewed, and his strange encounter with the bombed house that manifested itself along with a girl who asked where it was. Could there be some connection. Ted could only surmise from from where he found himself, only to come to the conclusion that what had just happened, together with the impact it had on Sue, could not be so easily dismissed. ‘Not Jackie? What are you saying? You mean the Jackie that everybody is trying to track down? Your friend? Is that what you’re getting at?’ ‘Sorry Ted, I know that I'm beginning to sound completely mad. And you have every right to believe just that. But when that girl ed me as I went in, and you held the door open for her before you yourself came in. It was the headscarf that the girl was wearing. It's the kind women used to wear during the 1940s, it triggered something in my memory. But I was too slow to catch on. And I guess the light not being too bright didn't help.That it seems, that the real-life Jackie, has what some people might call a double ganger.’ Sue now looking almost imploringly at Ted, while asking, ‘unless you’ve got a better idea. As for me I don't know what to think.’ ‘A double ganger you say? A look alike, or whatever you want to call it, this whole thing is getting pretty weird. And dare I say almost unbelievable.’

‘And what about this!’ Said a rather shaken Sue, holding up the newspaper that was causing her to have a look of total disbelief, and thrusting the paper across to Ted. Ted had yet to be aware of the newspaper that Sue had found on the chair, and was now flourishing it in his face. ‘What about it?’ ‘Take a closer look for yourself. Look at the date!’ ‘June twenty-six...Nineteen... Forty-two... I don't believe it! This can't be true... can it? Nineteen forty two.’ Ted was mumbling to himself, as if his eyes were deceiving him.’ As he silently reread, what at first was difficult to believe. It was Ted's turn to be at a loss for words. The main news item that Ted found himself reading, was about a massive allied bomber raid of American B17s, together with British Lancaster aircraft that had bombed Bremen, also how the Luftwaffe had bombed Glasgow the previous night. It was on the flight up to Glasgow, which was where he had first met up with Sue.

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‘Would you like to order?’ Broke the incredulous silence that both were feeling. ‘We have a very nice ice coffee, topped with cream and chocolate flakes.’ ‘I think its got to be an espresso, a double one please.’ Looking back to Ted, ‘I can see by the look on your face that I'm doing exactly the opposite of what I said, I'm only too aware about asking you to not let me have one, but considering the circumstances, I really do need one. As the waitress was still waiting for Ted to order, Sue said to her, ‘was there anybody sitting at his table before we came in?’ The waitress on replying at the same time shaking her head, ‘No one has sat at this table for at least 20 minutes.’ Ted not noticing that Sue was still talking to the waitress, being totally engrossed in the mysterious newspaper. Looked up saying, ‘no explanation needed. Should you have a liking for one more after that, go for it. Like yourself I’m going for a

double espresso too. I you saying, before we came into here that a coffee might give us some inspiration, and I think I would be reasonably correct in saying, it certainly has done more than that, even as yet without even a single sip of coffee.’ Almost forgetting that the waitress was still standing there. ‘Sorry, I was just wondering what coffee to have, I guess we'll have two large espresso please.’ Ted then murmuring more to himself than to the waitress or Sue. ‘So much for the cappuccinos we promised ourselves.’ With coffee ordered, Sue looking somewhat disconcerted, looked across to Ted who was still staring at the newspaper in total disbelief, saying. ‘What do we say to Judy? She will be here in ten minutes, or so. I don't think it would be the best of ideas to relate as to what has just happened. Even the most open-minded person would find that a bit difficult to comprehend. I don't know if you've heard what the waitress has just said. That no one had been sitting at the table for at least 20 minutes. Make what you like of that!’ ‘I just caught the end of what you were saying or what the waitress was saying to you. That in itself is something more than enough to think about. And what you're about to say to Judy could be construed, as your biggest understatement of the year, if not for all time!’ Said Ted, putting down the paper while saying, ‘I don't mean to be sarcastic in any kind of way. But what you just mentioned, is only too true.’ ‘I think, that perhaps it would be a good idea trying not to look too perturbed. I guess we should try and give a feeling of normality, difficult as that might seem at the moment while we sip our espressos. Apart from saying hello once more. I'm not sure what to say. That newspaper and that Jackie lookalike, who I'm sure is the one who left it. Has I'm afraid, thrown my mind into some degree of disarray. But no doubt we’ll come up with some kind of questions, and I guess she will have some questions for us too, this... looks like Judy now.’ Sue gave a wave, as she saw Judy looking around the tables. Seeing Sue’s wave, came over to them, as Sue slipped the mystifying newspaper into her bag. ‘I managed to get off a bit earlier tonight.’ ‘Let me move my bag from this seat,’ said Sue. ‘What will you have?’ ‘One of their ice coffees would be great.’ Said Judy to Sue, and to the same girl who had served them moments before, as she reappeared with their espressos.

‘Hello again.’ Said Ted, looking across at Judy. ‘That was a bit of luck that you saw my interest in that poster of Jackie.’ ‘It's hardly how most people would like to be seen.’ Replied Judy. ‘Yes, it was a bit of a shock when I saw it earlier today too.’ Said Sue. ‘You said you are a fellow student of Jackie?’ ‘That's right, we also shared the same tutor. The one everybody is talking about, professor Toms. It all seems like a bad dream.’ ‘What was he like, this professor Toms?’ Said Sue. ‘I guess you could call him a bit old school. I had a feeling that he was very impressed with Jackie, but I'm sure only in an academic way. Jackie as you know was gorgeous, all the guys around the college couldn't keep their eyes off her. Everybody liked Jackie, and she certainly helped me with my studies.’ ‘I guess the police questioned you, and anybody else that happened to be close to Jackie. Also I imagine any of Toms students would also come under their close scrutiny.’ ‘As for me yes, though not for long. As I really did not know that much about her. Except for knowing that she was way out in front of me, as far as the understanding of advanced maths and the like. I thought I was not too bad, but Jackie was exceptional. I believe you mentioned that you had met up with Jackie in London.’ Sue had decided earlier on that maybe being less than forthright was the best way to go. Rather than to get into Jackie's mystifying dream world. ‘I met Jackie originally in London, at a wine bar. It can't had been more than three months ago at the very most. It was a place that we would go after work during their happy hour. We both found out that we had a mutual friend there.’ Sue thought, thinking of Bob. As far as fabricating a white lie goes, it sounded fairly plausible. ‘We became good friends, and eventually she met my cousin James.’ From there Sue went on to tell Judy about James, and the predicament that he now finds himself in at the moment. ‘Here's your ice coffee.’ ‘Thanks, how terrible! And you say your cousin James is at the police station now, and actually detained?’

‘Yes, that's the one thing we do know for sure, and the only other thing we know, is that the police themselves seem equally at loss, as to Jackie's whereabouts. When did you last speak to Jackie or see her? By any chance.’ ‘It must have been on Tuesday or perhaps Wednesday of this week, we exchanged a few words with each other at an end of a lecture, I think it was something about the lecture. I also her going on to say, how she had been invited to Toms cocktail party. And that she would give me a knock on my door after that thing she was attending was over. She went on to mention, that she would most likely bound to have something amusing to tell me. But of course that never happened, at the time I thought no more about it. I suppose it would have been around the time of Jackie’s disappearance, not to mention professor Toms murder. It's just too terrible. I just wish I could be more helpful. The one thing I do feel positive about, and I don't care what the police say. Jackie could not have done it. I know all the evidence points at her, but something is amiss. It just doesn't fit.’ ‘That's our feeling too, but the big question is what now, and where is Jackie? Not only that, the police do not seem to have an answer either. If they don't know where she is, you begin to wonder what on earth is going on.’ ‘Look, I have to go,’ said Judy. As she finished off her coffee, ‘I've arranged to meet someone later. I'll give you my mobile number. And you can give me yours, should any of us find out anything useful. Thanks for the coffee. Sorry I can't stay longer, and couldn't be more helpful, but I must go. Try and not to worry, I know that’s easy to say. I only wish I could only tell you more. Somehow for sure we'll find out what's going on, one way or the other. Here's my number.’ Sue scribbled her mobile number on a table napkin, saying as she ed it back, to the now standing Judy. ‘Even the smallest shred of information might just what we are looking for.’ As they watched Judy disappear through the door. Ted reached over for the paper that was poking out of Sue's bag. Giving it further scrutiny, as Sue looked on sipping her coffee. Putting the newspaper back in Sue’s bag said, ‘it’s all very exasperating. This is just another why. Like, why was this newspaper left here? Is it meant to tell us something? As far as Judy goes, she was not able to tell us much. I guess that Judy is not a lot wiser either. as you remarked earlier. Except for this newspaper, and your Jackie look alike. So where does that leave us?’

‘Totally bewildered to say the least.’ Bewilderment was the expression, that was reflected on Sue's face. ‘I don't know about you, but the more you think about what has just happened, the more confusing it all becomes. Let alone trying to make any sense whatsoever, on what has just occurred, and that's not even counting that newspaper.’ ‘The scarf girl,’ Ted seemed to be saying to himself, ‘what if...?’ ‘If what?’ Replied Sue. ‘For this moment in time, I'm not sure what I'm thinking. Even my sceptical self on matter’s such as this. But don't you think that you seeing her, that this mystery look alike, or Doppelgänger as they say in German. Or if you prefer, it was not just a coincidence. Or why else would she suddenly appear here in this coffee bar to you. you are the one who was able to see her first. Apart from that guy, you went up to Scotland to interview. Perhaps she feels some kind of empathy towards you. You know what they say twos company threes a crowd though in this case four.’ ‘How do you make out four?’ Said a puzzled Sue. There is the first one in Scotland that got you into all this in the first place. If you you told me about the girl in Jackie's dream. Not forgetting of course the one you saw on that computer. Plus the one who was kind enough to leave you a 1942 newspaper. That's four by my reckoning.’ ‘I guess you're right, no way can I argue with that.’ ’The Scottish part, was perhaps in the way of an introduction, you could possibly say, even some kind of strange coincidence.’ Ted was looking somewhat doubtful of what he was trying to convey. While wondering what Sue would say. To what he thought was a rather bizarre understanding of these latest developments. ‘Go on, at least you're thinking. But if the truth be known, I’m most likely more of a sceptic than you, considering my last line of work. You might well be right, could it be that our cynical self, that is blocking a more constructive line of thought. Which is not allowing us to understand what actually is happening outside our normal periphery of perception. If that is not too much to get your head around. Or mine, come to that. We seem to be in uncharted waters. And

what you imply, does after all make some kind of sense.’ Ted nodded in agreement, ‘for a moment I thought you were going to suggest that I was losing touch with reality. Okay you have given me sufficient encouragement to carry on with this line of thought. I'm sure that you must agree, that's more than a few people have heard of, or even talked about their guardian angel, for want of a better name. Some really believing that they have one. Even me, I sometimes think it wasn't just luck, I had on some occasions or other. Something perhaps that we just don't like owning up too. What I'm trying to say, is that this Jackie look alike, is in fact her guardian angel. That is, if you believe in such beings. Why has she connected with you? I don't know. But she has, for reasons we don't understand. That you, somehow or other is going to be important in Jackie's future. I hope that I'm not being too fanciful. But I'm trying to think in a different direction if you like, I suppose you could say outside the box of what we call normality.’ ‘No, I like the way you are going. It's a freshness of thought. To be truthful, that was not a road I imagined going down. But what we've got to decide now, what is the best way to proceed?’ ‘My feeling," said Ted, ‘is that we are being pointed in the right direction and perhaps that this newspaper has some significance. Though what, I have no idea.’ Once more, and with a feeling of exasperation Ted took the newspaper out of Sue's bag opening it up, and placing the paper across the table. The newspaper had all the appearances of being new, there was no yellowing of age, that you would expect of a newspaper of that vintage. At the same time the feel of the paper itself was substandard, which must have been common during the wartime years. Though the paper was a broadsheet, it was only one sheet. The front, back and the inside of both those pages. Ted could not help noticing that the children feature, Rupert was still there as it is today. Some things never change he thought. Looking more carefully than before at what was printed through out the paper. But nothing appeared to stand out. ‘Have a look through the pages Sue, see if you can make anything of it, it sure beats me. There certainly does not seem to be anything in it, that relates in any way, to your friends disappearance.’ Putting her coffee down, Sue once again picked up the paper, glancing like Ted

over the front, inside and the back page. It was a far cry from the multipage monsters of today. Looking once more at the front page for a final scrutiny. Abruptly pulled the top corner of the front page towards her. Had the light been better than what the spluttering candles provided. Either of them might have seen the very faint pencil markings, that could possibly be an address. ‘Do you see what I think I can see?’ ‘Let's have a look.’ ing the paper over to Ted, and pointing. ‘Top right-hand corner.’ ‘Yes... Very faint pencil markings. This light here is not too brilliant for seeing. What we need is something brighter.’ ‘Hang on, I'll just go to the loo with it. Hopefully the light will be better in there.’ A few minutes later Sue was back, saying as she sat down. The Boathouse, at the same time picking up her iPhone that was on the table, hesitating as she did so, before putting it down on the newspaper. With a thoughtful look from the newspaper to Ted. ‘That newspaper and this phone could not have come from an era that were so far apart. If you think about it’s bit like us you could say.’ ‘The Boathouse,’ Ted repeated. ‘The one thing we can be sure of, that it can only be on the river, it's hardly likely to be anywhere else. You never know it might still be there. But there again that was a long time ago. If it’s not, we'll just have to find out where it was, somehow or other. And what might be the significance of this place.’ ‘I guess so, at least we have something to go on, certainly far more than I expected. Just as I was beginning to think that we had set ourselves a hopeless task. I don't know about you, but what I do know for sure is that I'm feeling more than a little bit exhausted. And I'm pretty sure that you are too. My feelings for the time being is to give it a rest, and get back into it again first thing tomorrow. Sleep on it for now, and see what direction we take in the light of a new day.’ ‘That you could say, is a very positive idea.’ Replied a yawning and a fatigued looking Ted. ‘Okay, let's go back to the place where we're staying. I only hope I can still find

it.’ Paying for their coffee's as they left, this time Ted had no need to hold the door open for any imaginary person or otherwise, only for the more real presence of Sue. Having found the hotel without any problem, as they got their room keys, Sue said. ‘You look more done in than me, and thanks Ted, you've been great.’ While giving him a more lingering kiss from his cheek to his lips. Knowing had this been another occasion, this kiss would have developed into so much more. For now, only to remain a figment of her longings. That could have been a ionate and intimate night, instead of a lonely nights slumber. Going on to say to Ted, ‘I know I owe you so much more.’ Was only stopped by her ever present conscience, reminding her that this was not the time, with all her energy to be committed to the perplexing disappearance of Jackie. With barely a whisper and smiling closely at Ted saying, ‘much more fun soon, I promise.’ Ted replying almost as quietly as Sue ‘I'm not going anywhere, I'm here for you.’ Slipping from his arms, Sue went down the corridor to her room, to a deep but uneasy sleep. While Ted, not sure what to think anymore, only knowing that sleep for him would be easy. It was certainly a different kind of Saturday night that he had had for a very long time. Though whether this nights sleep would make anything clearer during the next wakening hours, remained to be seen.

Chapter 25

The intense and ongoing sound of the alarm function emanating from her mobile broke through into her slumbers. Evaporating any further dreams or sleep. Sue's left hand reached out from beneath the sheets to the bedside table to silence the irritating sound. Thinking that she really needed to change it for a more melodious tone for the early morning summons. There was just a brief space of time, as her head emerged from beneath the bed sheets. Eyes yet to open, followed by one of surprise as the room came into view, together with a fleeting moment of panic to find herself in a room that did not have the usual sights and sounds that she had become so accustomed too. Her usual and immediate everyday thoughts, were being rapidly replaced by names. An abundance of names. James, Jackie, Ted, Police, Cambridge. All quickly flashing into her reflections for the day. All demanding attention. This overload of information brought Sue into full wakefulness. Looking at the bedside clock, saw that there was no mistake as far as her mobile alarm was concerned, seeing now it had all ready gone seven. Unless it was one of those rare occasions that Sue had to work on a Sunday. This early morning hour was more or less unknown territory for her. Any thoughts of a relaxing on this Sunday morning would be denied. Directly in Sue's line of vision was a chair. The chair, where sat the innocent looking bag, with the disconcerting newspapers still poking from it. ing all too well the disbelief on seeing the date, that only added further bewilderment to the disturbing incident at the coffee bar. “The Daily Express”, from an era that was as violent as this room was tranquil. ing the words that were scrawled across the top right hand corner of the front page. “The Boathouse”. ‘The Boathouse.’ Sue murmured to herself, ‘got to be on the river that's for sure. Can't argue with Ted with that fact.’ This place, she was now beginning to realise was somehow connected to Jackie's disappearance. It was the key and perhaps the answer to this enveloping and now this frightening paradox. With a bit of an effort, she pushed herself into an upright position. Putting a pillow against the headboard and leaning back upon it. Now sitting up in reasonable comfort, reached over to the bedside table for her mobile, tapping in Ted’s number, that was answered before she had even time to push a stray strand

of hair from her eyes. ‘Morning Sue.’ ‘Morning to you Ted. You sound more together than me at the moment. There I was feeling guilty that I might have just woken you up. I had set my alarm to go off at seven. I was worried that I might sleep the morning away. It was not as if I was trying to wake you. I was just wondering if you are into breakfast, or at least coffee? If I'm not mistaken I think I saw a sign downstairs that they do breakfast from seven thirty on a Sunday. How does that sound to you?’ ‘Okay, I'm actually feeling quite hungry, if you I think we only had a coffee and me a beer when we met up with Judy, I’ll see you in about five minutes if that's okay with you?’ ‘You have suddenly made me feel very guilty.’ Said Sue, ‘I had totally forgotten to ask if you have had anything to eat when you arrived, will you ever forgive me? See you in about five minutes, for you a very large breakfast.’ Sue was already sitting at a table by the window. She wanted to make sure she was down before Ted. Having given her early morning appearance a little more attention than usual. As Ted strolled into the breakfast room, Sue pushed back her chair from the table, and lent across as Ted sat down, not wanting to miss the excuse to give Ted a perfunctory morning kiss on his cheek. ‘I must say that you look in a lot better state than what you did last night.’ Remarked Sue. ‘You are certainly right there,’ replied Ted. ‘I think I was asleep even before my head hit the pillow. The one thing I do know about myself, I can always eat a good breakfast. My bet is that you are one of those people who only have one or two cups of coffee in the morning, and managed to exist on that until lunch. Please tell me you're not a coffee only person.’ ‘Yes, you're halfway right. Normally it's just a coffee, if I'm staying in London at the weekend. My feelings for this unanticipated weekend, that it would not be such a bad idea on this particular morning to get a real breakfast down me. I don't want you having to carry me through lack of food.’Smiled Sue. ‘Though normally I love a Sunday morning breakfast, especially when I get around to visiting my parents. Though at the moment I must it, it's a bit difficult trying

to concentrate on what to actually have for breakfast. While at the same time, you are speculating whats happening to poor James in the nick. You can't help but wonder what kind of breakfast he’s having. And I hardly dare to think about Jackie. However, as to whatever I'm thinking now, does not exactly help as far as our breakfast is concerned. So we better have a good one, that's for sure.’ ‘I know what you mean, except without the food we are not about to get anything done. As far as carrying you, I suppose I could always give it a try. I have to say it’s got to be more than just coffee for you. I've got a feeling it's going to be a long day. Okay, that’s settled. Two full breakfasts, coffee for you, and tea for me, orange juice for both of us. Here's the waitress.’ With breakfast eaten with more relish than Sue would have thought possible only a few minutes ago. Sue went on to say. ‘Now my brain seems to be ticking over a little better, after that breakfast. I'm thinking about James and how he must be fairing at this time, apart from his breakfast. My first thought is that we should get around to that police station. On second thoughts that might not be such a good idea.’ ‘Why would that be?’ Asked a puzzled Ted. ‘We would more than likely to meet up with James's father. Which I feel could possibly slow us down. There is absolutely nothing we can do in that direction. James's father certainly knows how to handle the police, seeing that he’s a QC. Also he has my mobile number should he need to get in touch with me, and I feel pretty sure he's going to be preoccupied with James. What do you think?’ ‘I go along with that. I know you must be worried about him, but as you say, it’s not really going to help much. As to what I think, I'm not too sure. Though seeing you're asking, we should decide on what direction to take in the first place. And having worked that one out, try and put some kind of plan together. Would seem like a good idea, if nothing else.’ ‘Well the first thing I better go and do, otherwise we'll not have a roof over our heads tonight is to go to the reception, and arrange to keep our rooms for another night, my treat if that's the right word.’ ‘Fine by me.’ Responded Ted. ‘I’ve got a few days off anyhow, as you know. It couldn't have come at a better time.’

‘I’ll phone Mike first thing on Monday, he thinks I've have some kind of flu bug. And there's not much I can do there as it is. It's mostly down to the art department for the time being. I won't be missed.’

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Ted went back up to his room, telling Sue he would see her in the reception in about 10 minutes. Sue meanwhile went along to the reception to see about staying on for an extra day. While there it occurred to Sue that the receptionist might just possibly know of a place called the “Boat House.” that was near here in the 1930s and was told. ‘Sorry fraid not, I'm not that old you know.’ Replied the bemused receptionist. ‘The Boat House.’ Said a voice that seem to come from behind a pile of luggage in the corner of a small room by the reception. The voice belonged to a man who was perhaps the hotel porter, but did not look as if he would be much help in carrying the guest's cases. He looked as if he could have been the reception girl’s great-great-grandfather. ‘She wouldn't know.’ Nodding his head in the direction of the receptionist. ‘Too young. The Boat House you say, there's a pub called that, but there was another place called the Boat House back in the thirties, I seem to . Up near the Baits Bite Lock. Must have been just before the war when it was burnt down. That must be the one you are talking about. It was some kind of bar, or club, I think that they also kept some racing sculls in the lower part. Popular at the time with all the university students. It had quite a reputation if I rightly. It's not exactly in Cambridge, you can get to where it was all those years ago by boat of course. It would most likely be a lot easier by road. It's been many a year since I was in that direction. Went to it once in my younger days with a pal of mine, we were always hearing all kinds of rumours about this place. From what I it was not our kind of place, it was a rich kids kind of hangout, out of my class you could say. The university in those days was much more for the rich, not like today. Anyhow it all came to an end with a fire. It was a bit of a tragedy, though most got out with just minor burns. But one girl died, I her photograph in the local paper at the time, she was a very beautiful girl. I believe she was a student at Trinity.

The other thing that I recall, she was brilliant at maths, or whatever they call it at that level. Funny how things stick in your mind.’ Sue remained quiet not wanting to interrupt the old man's reminisces. When he mentioned the girl who died. She knew that this was no coincidence, it could only be the same living entity that she had captured without knowing on her camera during her Scottish trip. The seeing of that unforgettable image of the scarf covered head on Jim’s computer screen. And last nights fleetingly close encounter, adding still more tangible evidence to give even more credence to the inconceivable. ‘The Boat House.’ The old man repeated himself. ‘I would not have thought you would have known about it? ‘I don't really.’ Replied Sue, having thought beforehand, that should anybody ask that question. And realising to give the actual the truth would hardly be believed. ‘I’m doing some research on local history for an article I'm writing.’ ‘Well my dear, I hope I've been some help.’ Before Sue could reply, he disappeared to somewhere behind the luggage once more. Sue waited for a couple of minutes for him to reappear, having thought of another question to ask. But it was as if he had disappeared into thin air. Deciding not to wait any longer, turned away from the reception area, having been told that their rooms for the next day was no problem. Going back up the nearby stairs. Slowly climbing up each step in deep thought. ing the conclusion they had come to last night in the coffee bar. That there were in fact three images of Jackie. Last nights, the one on the computer screen that had come from her own camera, and if she counted what the Scottish man had said he had seen, made three, or four as Ted pointed out, should you count girl that Jackie had mentioned in her dream. Though she had not seen any pictures of the girl who died at the Boat House fire. The description had an all too familiar ring to it. This was no longer a vague coincidence, but an uncanny reality. That was almost too difficult to grasp. How could you understand something like this, it was just not possible? Any attempt too, would just end in failure. Sue was rapidly coming to the conclusion that these happenings were something that you just had to accept. In some ways it was like trying to jump on your own shadow always there, only at the speed of light away from you. One

thing that did remain clear was that all these aberrations of Jackie that she had been confronted with, were not just chance. She knew that there was no escape to the conclusion that she had become the pivotal link to this parallel world. Where the brief glimpses that she was being allowed, together with the information that she was able to glean, was all pointing into somehow aiding Jackie. ‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Said Ted as Sue reached the top step. ‘You look a trifle disconcerted, I was just coming down to the reception, to see where you’ve got too. You seem to have something on your mind.’ ‘And so will you, when I tell you what I’ve just been told. Sorry Ted, if I’m sounding a bit distant. I just had a chat with some old boy who works here. It wasn't so much of a conversation, as he was doing most of the talking. I was just listening really.’ After Sue related the old man's story. It was Ted's turn to yet again to have the feeling of bewilderment. Ted remained silent, staring past Sue into the stairwell before answering. ‘It’s as if a curtain was gradually being pulled back, and we are being gently enlightened. Or at least you are, with these appearances of Jackie, or her look alike. As to why? God only knows, it's all very strange. If you as to what I said a while back. That it does seem that you have this empathy with all these Jackie's. If in fact there is more than one. Either way it’s like as if she has a twin, one of this world, and one in this parallel reality. If that makes any sense to you? The only thing that I can add, that makes any kind of sense whatsoever, it's giving you some kind of connection concerning your friend Jackie.’ ‘What you are saying, at least what I think you’re saying.’ Said Sue. ‘That this other Jackie is trying to protect the one we think of as the real one. If that is what you’re contemplating, does makes some kind of sense. I can only wish that the truth is not lurking too far behind.’ ‘I guess it is, though it's all a bit confusing. So what I imagine you're saying. As what anybody else might well say in such a situation. Why me? On that particular question I have no idea. The only conclusion as far as I can see, which is not exactly too helpful. Is this, it’s what some people might call fate. Others say accept your fate, it looks as if you have no choice. Not the easiest thing to go along with I guess, certainly not something I had envisaged.’

‘No choice, thanks for that Ted. To think that I used to say you can control your destiny, not any more. All my beliefs have been turned on their heads. And me a journalists. Once upon a time I would have rejected any such notion as pure and simply nuts! Just plain ridiculous.’ ‘Nuts or not." Said Ted. ‘There's too much evidence for us to back away from, or for that matter to have any second thoughts. They, whoever they might be, are giving us just enough information that we can actually physically act on, where I imagine it seems they can’t. ‘One sure gets that feeling.’ Replied Sue. ‘Lets get out of here before we both go nuts. More action and less philosophising is the only way to go, dare I say.’ ‘Any plan or direction come to mind?’ Said a hopeful looking Ted. ‘Plan I guess not, direction yes.’ ‘The river, would be my guess as to the direction to be heading. But the first thing is to find the car park where I left my car. It should be just around the corner from here if I'm right.’ ‘I think the old boy said it was downstream, he mentioned a place on the river, he said it was close to the Baits Bite Lock, if I correctly. I think he said it was about a mile or so outside of Cambridge. You don't happen to have some kind of map in your car by any chance? What he didn't say, and I forgot to ask as to what bank of the river it was on.’ ‘Sure do, but you're forgetting we’ve both got GPS on our phones, though any help from those AA maps could be useful too, as they show even the smallest of hamlets. With luck it should show this lock he mentioned. Mind you, I would imagine that a lock is on both sides of the river. And this Boat House, I’m sure it would be in the same locality would be my guess? The map in question, was like my third arm when I was doing outside broadcasts. It should give us some idea to the more likely areas we should first check out. Though what might be an even better idea is to ask that old man friend of yours, seeing that we are about to go past the reception on the way out.’ ‘Glad someone is thinking this morning.’ Once more back at the reception desk, they asked if the porter was still

around.‘Hang on.’ Replied the receptionist, as she banged the desk bell next to her. ‘He'll be here in a second or two.’ Seconds later a youngish man appeared at Sue's shoulder. ‘How can I help you mam?’ ‘Sorry.’ Said Sue. ‘I really wanted to speak to the older gentleman who works here. I thought he was the porter, I spoke to him only a few minutes ago.’ ‘An older person you say? I'm sorry but there is no older staff, we're all quite young here, I don't think anybody is over thirty-five.’ Ted who was standing at Sue's shoulder, looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and mouth slightly open, as if trying to put some words together, but without actually managing to say anything. Sue quickly regaining her composure saying. ‘Sorry it must be my mistake. I imagined it must have been one of your staff.’ ‘If there is anything else I can help you with, you know where to find me.’ Ted seeing a look of bafflement on Sue's face, had already decided that it would not help in making any kind of a comment, apart from saying. ‘I’m not saying a word.’ Sue, after relaxing her pursed lips. Said more to herself than Ted. ‘And I thought I was having a perfectly normal conversation with a perfectly normal old man. Instead I must surmise that I was talking to an apparition or am I becoming delusional?’ While slowly shaking her head in disbelief. ‘To tell you the truth I'm at a loss, as what to say.’ Said Ted. ‘And I'm not so sure what even to think. Apart from the fact that he might have been a guest at the hotel, and he just happened to over hear you. But I must it that sounds just a bit too convenient. So I guess we are being told in no uncertain where to head for. And let's leave it at that.’ ‘If only I had this kind of help in my journalistic days. You might well say, that this is like having an ethereal version of a Sat Nav navigating system. I know that we are always told to follow our subconscious. For want of a better idea, perhaps this is what we're doing, without even thinking about it. Okay, I know

I'm not talking too much sense, but what else can you do? In fact what I would really like to say is just this. Try and not to think too much about all this. Whatever this it, might be. As you say, accept whats happening, just do it. That way I'm sure we will both end up less confused.’ ‘I’m with you there. I can't think of any other explanation. Just a question of getting on with it, as you say. Rather than any further discussion on the matter. So let's just simply do that. What ever this it might be?’ Remarked Ted as he gently touched Sue's elbow and guided a slightly dazed Sue through the hotel doors. Stepping down the front steps of the hotel with Ted saying more to himself than Sue, ‘I guess we turn right, lets hope that is the right direction to be walking in,’ and it was out onto the street to find the garage where he had left the car the previous evening, it was only a matter of minutes before they arrived at the car park. They had made their way to the car without further words being said, as he knew that Sue was still trying to come to with her odd encounter with the old man. ‘I’m sure once we're on the road, everything will begin to take shape.’ Explained Ted in the way of encouragement. If not with total conviction. ‘The shape you just mentioned, is something that is beginning to take on all new kinds of connotations for me. After that rather strange encounter I had just experienced at the reception.’ ‘Well,’ said Ted not knowing quite what to say to Sue’s rather quirky deliberation, as he fished in his pocket for his wallet to pay the car park fee, ‘let’s just enjoy the drive we are about to take, to where ever we are likely to be going.’

––––––––

‘Yes, you're quite right, I guess that I'm just thinking too much. Though I seem to , not so long ago you said something about your intuition, so can you put your intuition and shape into the same basket?’ ‘I see that I'll have to be a little more careful on how I phrase my sentences, no more loose talk, I’ll just keep my mouth shut. And concentrate on my driving. to

where ever we happen to be going.’ ‘Yes,’ said Sue trying to stop herself laughing, ‘that could be the perfect solution, what a good idea.’

Chapter 26

‘So our first success of the day was finding your car, let's see if we can go on as we’ve started out. Though I have to it, it’s more likely easier said than done,’ said Sue more to herself, rather to a half listening Ted, as he fished through his various pockets, this time trying to find the car keys. ‘Got’em,’ said Ted holding the keys up for Sue to see. ‘In you get, and we’ll be off.’ Looking over the top of the car as Sue opened the enger side door, while saying. ‘I won’t go through my usual apologies concerning the slightly unkempt state on my car’s interior, as I'm sure you've heard that speech by now more than once.’ ‘I do believe if I’m right that you did in fact mention it once before. As long as your car works, that’s the only thing that really matters. So I'll let you off with out further comment on my part.’ At the same time giving Ted the sweetest of smiles. ‘But I must say, that I'm a little weak on thinking up a plan for today.’ Said Sue pulling the door shut, and Ted turning the key in the starter, as the car shuddered into life. ‘Or perhaps the easier plan I would say, is to decide what direction, left or right, up river or down river?’ ‘Actual direction you say? That is actually quite easy, I'm being a little stupid of not thinking of this before.’ ‘You said it, not me.’ Said Sue looking curiously at Ted. ‘I once did an outside broadcast about punting on the Cam.’ ‘I do recall you mentioned that you had pretensions of wanting to become an undergraduate here. But I don’t think you told me the one about your outside punting broadcast. How is that episode of your life going to affect us, as regards directions?’ ‘Looking back, I must have been trying to impress you at the time, and it totally slipped my mind about the punting story. Actually the near disaster part pretty much tells it all. It was one of my earlier efforts for the Beeb. Maybe it was

because I'd nearly fallen into the river trying to look as if I knew as to what I was actually doing, that I'd totally blanked that fiasco completely out of my mind. Not wanting to recall such an embarrassing moment. To cut a not such a long story even shorter. It’s not such a good idea to stand up in a boat when trying to do an outside broadcast. I'll say no more on that particular little venture. Anyhow, the point is this, that I did manage to learn something about punting or boating on the Cam in general. So what does stick in my mind, is that most of the punting goes in one direction only. If you hire a punt or what ever, you can only go upstream from The Anchor side of the lock.’ ‘Only in one direction you say, surely you can go down stream.’ ‘Yes, you might well think that as most people would, but from The Anchor it’s pretty much upstream only. Or on the other side of that lock is what some call the lower river, up to Baits Bite lock. Thats the bit they do the serious rowing on. Should you want to go the other way. You would have to go the other side of the lock to hire your punt or what ever.’ ‘How come?’ Said Sue looking puzzled. ‘A lock. There's a lock you say? Yes! Of course you're right. I last night when we were on that bridge. I was looking down at the Anchor, and there was something that definitely look like a lock just ed their jetty, where I was with James, before he managed to get himself arrested.’ ‘Yes, I can even the name of it. It's not difficult to , even for me. Jesus Lock, it's the first lock on the river, after that the Cam starts to peter out. It’s where the punting station are on the other side of Jesus Lock, for those who want to venture upstream, or for anybody who doesn't want to get mixed up with racing sculls. Anyhow this Jesus Lock is rarely opened, as you can guess most boating from there is upstream. The next lock from there is the Baits Bite Lock. That's the one you mentioned I believe, or that old boy of yours did. Which is much further down the river, that's the part of the river they call the lower river, as I just mentioned, should you be interested? So what I'm trying to say is this.’ Sue chimed in without giving Ted a chance to finish, saying. ‘Yes, you're right, the old man, or whatever he was, mentioned that lock. So what we need to do, is to head down river. As a place with a name like the boathouse would hardly be in any other location in the circumstances that you mentioned.’

‘Exactly. It could only be on this part of the river.’ Replied Ted. ‘And I guess the reason my strange old man friend didn’t mention that, as it's the most likely, and the obvious way you would go. As you say down river, let's have a look at this map of yours, before we go anywhere. I always think that a map gives you a better idea on where you're heading rather than your GPS. It might be a good idea to start at this lock, it would at least give us some sense of direction, what did you say it's called?’ The Baits Bite Lock,’Ted said as he looked for the map in the glove box, freeing it from a tangle of bits and pieces that had accumulated there, eventually retrieving it, then folding it over the steering wheel. Sue tracing with her finger the course of the river on the map, ‘That I guess must be the Baits Bite Lock. You see? It seems that we have to drive through a village called Fen Ditton. Then it's the first left, after the road goes over the A14 main road. As the old man said, it was out of Cambridge, hopefully that would be the right direction. The old man also said it was possible to get there by road. And if you look at this map, there's not much in the way of roads close to the upper reaches of the Cam.’ ‘I’m sure you're right, let's hit the road, fasten your seatbelt.’ Said Ted putting the car into gear. It was some 30 minutes later they found themselves going through the village of Fen Ditton. Sue who now had the map said. ‘Keep going straight, and according to the map, we should see a bridge which takes us over that main road, then it's the first turn on the left.’ ‘I think I see your bridge coming up.’ ‘Better slow down a bit. When you come out on the other side of that bridge, which we now seem to be on, we should be at that turn off any second. I didn't see any signposts, but this appears to be the road. I guess it's just used only by local farmers. Apart from that sign I can just see, which I believe says private road. Are we going up it?’ ‘Not to worry, most likely put up by some irate land owner trying to put off exploring motorist, and the like. They can be very possessive of their bit of road. But for us it's the way we must go, private road or not.’

The road was lined with trees on both sides that gave the feeling of entering a leafy tunnel. The road transformed itself from an avenue of trees, to a road guarded on both sides with fields of ripening wheat. Just ahead on the left was a cluster of farm buildings and a farm house, which seemed like ships moored in a sea of wheat. The road bent sharply around the farm buildings. Turning from a hardtop road into a muddy track that had been baked hard by the recent sunny dry weather. Driving slowly over the rutted track they could see a cluster of cottages ahead which Ted thought, must have something to do with the lock. Further along the track Ted saw a ing place coming up, which he guessed would also make a good place to park. Bringing the car to a halt. Ted said, ‘let's walk from here, as he pulled on the handbrake. There might not be such an easy place to park further on as this, apart from the fact someone might possibly get a bit upset if we block their private road, we're pretty close now. I’m sure it will only be a short walk to the lock from here.’ ‘It’s lucky I'm a flat shoe type of a girl for this little hike. What's the plan when we get to the lock... See if anybody’s around?’ ‘Bound to be somebody, this lock would be in fairly constant use. Then I suppose we ask our usual question, excuse me have you by any chance heard of a place called the Boat House?’ ‘I don't want you to think that I'm becoming a little paranoid Ted. I can't help but think that if there is someone around to ask. Is he or she a real person, and not some kind of apparition?’ Sue looking closely at Ted said. ‘Tell me Ted, that you’re really flesh and blood. You are, aren't you?’ ‘You are doubtful? The answer to that, I'm certainly the real thing. How can you prove that you are the real thing too? To be honest I'm beginning to think that I'm in some kind of weird dream. I’ll wake up and go down to the pub, see one of my mates, and say over a pint of their best bitter. You know what, I had this really strange dream before I came out. I was in my car with this really beautiful girl. And...’ ‘And she kissed you.’ Which Sue did. Then went on to say, ‘does that prove something. So I guess I have to come to the conclusion, that I can only really believe, that you are actually the real thing.’ With Ted responding likewise and equally warmly.

‘That.’ Said Sue, ‘Makes me feel a whole lot better.’And gave Ted another lingering kiss back. ‘Me too.’ Ted said to Sue's now smiling face. ‘Let's go and see if we can find this Boat House place. And try and not to fall in the river, that's real enough I imagine.’ ‘I’ll just make sure you're the one walking on the riverside of the tow path. So any more remarks of that variety, can be quickly dealt with.’ ‘Thanks for that,’ laughed Ted. ‘Nothing else you want from the car?’ ‘No, everything I ever need is always in this bag of mine.’ ‘Everything?’ ‘All but the kitchen sink.’ Responded Sue opening the car door, and stepping out while Ted did the same while locking the doors from his side. ‘Anyhow let's hope we're finally going in the right direction.’ From a cloudless blue sky the sun shone down over a ripening sea of wheat, rippling in a light easterly breeze.They could see that the track ahead curved round to the right, hoping it was leading in the general direction of the lock. Giving the feeling they were walking into a wall of wheat. The ripening wheat dampened the sound of their tramping feet, but not the ever increasing sound of the river. But was unable to smother the sound of Sue's warbling mobile. ‘Just as I was beginning to enjoy the solitude of the countryside.’ Sue said as she fumbled to find her mobile from the multiple pocket jacket that she was wearing. ‘One day I'll learn to put it into a pocket that I can find.’ ‘Might be your cousin James.’ Said Ted. ‘James! It's you.’ Sue said on hearing his voice. ‘How good to hear you, are you okay, and you’re now out of the police station?’ ‘I’m fine, thanks for getting hold of my father. I'm with him now, he came onto the police with a lot of legalise, you know my old man, like they say, I've been sprung. Any news to the whereabouts of Jackie? Where about are you now?’ ‘Somewhere on the outskirts of Cambridge, trying to track down any possible

leads on Jackie, so far with no luck. I'm at a place called the Bates Bite lock, it's on the Cam.’ ‘I’m not going to be much of a help. The deal my father made with the police, is that he would be responsible for me, they could hardly refuse him, it seemed that they knew of his reputation. In short. it means I've got to go back home with him, I know that sounds a bit pathetic, but there's not much I can do about it.’ ‘Don't worry, I understand your predicament, I have a friend with me who knows about Jackie, you haven't met him yet.’ ‘I've got to go, have just got out of the police station, I'll keep in touch.’ ‘I’ll do the same James. Bye and don't worry. Soon as I know anything, I'll be sure to let you know.’ ‘Bye Sue. Let’s hope you manage to come to some kind of resolution to this worrying predicament. And to find Jackie safe, and out of harms way.’ ‘That you might have guessed, was James. It seems that his father lent on the police somewhat. I don't know if I mentioned to you, James's father is a QC. He's meant to be quite a heavyweight, as QC's come. The police would have certainly heard of him, I believe he has quite a high profile in that world.’ ‘Just the kind of old man you need when someone is trying to hang a murder charge around your neck.’ Said Ted. Sue looked along the hard baked mud track that they were now walking along. Her eyes followed it until it started to curve to the right, disappearing as it followed the outer walls of the farm buildings. The sound of the river had now become a swirling roar. It was now easy to imagine the lock itself. Only the curve of the track preventing them from seeing it. Was this going to be the final destination? Or was it like a cul-de-sac sending you back to where you started. These were just a few of the deliberation, that she knew they had to face. That had now completely flooded out any other form of logical thought. Would there actually be a boat house, or was that just another allusion too? And knowing even more importantly was the persistent and overwhelming question, could this be the end of the road as far as Jackie was concerned? ‘Stop me if I'm wrong. But you seem to be in deep thought. I could say a penny

for them. But let me guess, to what you're in fact thinking. Will, I’m pretty sure be the same as mine, if I’m right. As to what has also worked its way surreptitiously into my mind is simply this, does this road or track whatever they call it around here. Is it going to lead us to Jackie, and her whereabouts. Let alone this Boathouse place, I guess we’re about to find out.’ ‘You're beginning to know me only too well. Yes, I can't deny it, you're spot on. I think I'll have to have you signed up as the shows residential soothsayer.’ Laughed Sue. ‘Well, you're certainly right-on with one thing the river, I can hear it too. You would have been somewhat deaf not too’. Quickening their pace, with a little more certainty in their stride, as the sound of the water now obliterating every other sounds of the countryside that would normally resonate around them. Towards to what they hoped would be the “Baits Bite Lock”. And perhaps to some kind of enlightenment of what they might hope to find beyond the lock, and to the place that the mysterious old man back at the hotel had told Sue about. Learning from the old man reminisces of the nineteen thirties. The undergraduates of the day had a place on the river seemingly called the “Boat House.” This was where they housed their racing sculls, and on the upper floor there was a club, where they would socialise, but on one fateful day it had burnt down. Causing the death of a beautiful girl. And today the secluded location where they believed the boathouse once stood. Now linked inexplicably to the disappearance of an undergraduate accused of murder.

Chapter 27

The track they had been following finally came to an abrupt end at the edge of the weir, where the rushing waters of the Cam was allowed to flow around the lock, onwards towards the sea. A narrow bridge led over the weir, and onto the lock itself. Looking from the top of the bridge, they looked down over the area of the lock, to what appeared to be the lock keepers cottage. ‘There’s a bike leaning against the wall, close to the door. Might mean there’s someone inside.’ Said Sue still peering at the cottage. ‘So what do we do, knock on the door? And say, as you have just mentioned yourself, by the way, do you by any chance happen to know where a place called the boathouse is?’ ‘Most likely a better idea,’ said Ted. ‘As we’re almost in spitting distance of that cottage, is just to have a look around just like any other countryside rambler.’ ‘Sorry if I was sounding a little bit flippant. I reckon that this boathouse thing is beginning to get to me some what.’ ‘I’m all for a touch of flippancy,’ grinned Ted. ‘When I think of what we are trying to come to with. It kind of helps to keep your feet somewhere near the ground, even at this moment I feel a little above the said ground.’ ‘I know what you mean. You can't help but feel there's going to be yet another revelation presented to us. This whole thing is not about to just fade away. There's going to be some kind of closure, that's for sure. What I do know, though more than likely I don’t. To say the least it’s all rather disconcerting, is that we are not going to have much to do with it, one way or the other. We are given information as and when required. It's not us just being shrewd, I guess what we have to do, is just go along with what we are presented with. Or to be more precise, what we imagine that we are being presented with. Apart from all that, I can't really believe I'm actually thinking in that way’ ‘That,’ said Ted, ‘is the way I feel, though if I had any kind of thoughts what so ever on the paranormal. And I'm not so sure that I have. If you asked anybody, what does the word paranormal mean to you. Most people, I think would opt for ghosts, for want of a better description. Except our brush with the unexplainable,

or you could say the inexplicable, has up to now has been anything but ghostly. Certainly not as one might imagine a ghost. Even you seem to be a little confused as far as that goes, if by any chance I'm right in what I'm thinking.’ ‘And the one thing we know for sure Ted, and I might add to what you so aptly summarised, might be possibly be construed as a slight underemphasis, as things stand at the moment. Which is as far as my thinking will allow for now.’ ‘I can only assume that your somewhat strange encounter with who you thought was the hotel porter, hasn't made it any easier for you. But I think it might be easier for you to understand, if you regard that person was in fact was actually real, I believe I mentioned something like that earlier on, and just assume to be somebody who you happen to bumped into. Though from now on, which includes me, will we be thinking is this person some kind of an apparition, or for real? Especially if you include that coffee bar encounter. All these events might be acceptable, if we were in some ramshackle creaky old manor house. Or somewhere where you might well expect things that go bump in the night. Hollywood is always trying to scare us into thinking the unlikely is real, or something of that nature.’ ‘It looks as if the movie world might have something after all. When you put it like that. I can only hope that somewhere along the line that I can differentiate from what is real, from something that we have been experiencing of late. Though I suppose I should say, myself rather than you.’ Commented Sue. ‘Sure, but what I'm saying,’ said a thoughtful looking Ted, ‘is that of all places, a wheat field, would you believe! You have to it, it's a bit of an unlikely setting. But here we are expecting the unexpected. So what's your take now on this other world, that once upon a time we, or certainly you with your newspaper background would have more than quickly dismissed as complete and utter rubbish?’ ‘I suppose you’re right, if you dare to take a minute to think about it, but as things stand at the moment I rather not do any thinking in that direction. Any more deliberation without the of a very strong coffee is most likely not the best of ideas.’ Was Sue’s thoughtful answer. ‘I would say that the best possible answer is just this. At least as I see it,’ continued Ted, ‘when something does not work for example, you are waiting for

a train the train is late, you would most likely get an announcement. You know the kind of thing. Due to circumstances beyond our control. Etcetera, except that's exactly how I'm beginning to feel. That these so called circumstances which we are tending to believe, are certainly beyond our control, I would contend that they, whoever they might be, are more or less telling us we should just go along with it. Like the train, there's F all you can do about it. And as somebody quite rightly said, there's more to heaven and earth than what meets the minds eye, or something along those lines.’ ‘I like your perspective. I think what you once said, was that I've got little choice in the matter. Having had such a close-up view of the unlikely. Little did I think when I started my new job at Cosmos TV, that I would become one of the main attractions. It's a balancing act, I'm not sure I can handle. Though unfortunately it would seem that I have little choice in the matter.’ ‘Look, I'm not being unsympathetic, but at least you’ve got me for better or worse, and between us we will get to the bottom of this perplexing, what can I say, this enigma. And I feel pretty sure there's got to be some kind of an answer somewhere let's hope in the not too distant future.’ ‘Thanks Ted, for that, for what you have been saying, I guess it does make a lot of sense, the obvious thing to do now is to get ourselves over to the other bank and get on with it.’ Said a far brighter Sue than moments ago. Having now crossed right over the lock to the other bank. Ted who was now standing by the lock’s edge was staring down into the lock, talking as if to the water, rather than Sue.‘Main attraction or not, I as your leading man like many an actor, have this feeling that I'm beginning to get stage fright. What we need right now is someone to tell us what direction to take, whether to go stage right or stage left in this escalating drama. I don't think that the curtain is about to fall any minute soon, what we are missing is a prompter.’ At that precise moment, Ted’s point of view was interrupted as they heard a door being banged shut, coming from the cottage that had a bicycle leaning against the wall near its door, what they had first seen when they were on the bridge crossing over the lock. ‘Could that possibly be the prompter you're talking about, right on cue?’ Surmised Sue. ‘Not a moment too soon I would say.’

What they saw as they turned to look from where the sound had come from, was a grey haired woman, who was about to get on a bicycle, to peddle off on a track that began from the side of the cottage she was leaving. Sue immediately called out. ‘Hello’... The woman looked across to where they were standing. Sue started to stroll over the gravel towards her saying. ‘Sorry to bother you’, on reaching the cyclist. ‘I wonder if you can help me?’

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‘No need to say sorry my dear, never rushed out here you know, how can I help you on this beautiful day?’ ‘I was just wondering if you have ever heard of a place called, The Boathouse? I believe it was around here and it was burnt down many years ago.’ ‘The Boathouse, you say. I get many requests from walkers to where this place or that is, but I never thought I'll ever hear that name again.’ ‘You say you’ve heard of it? This Boathouse place. I was beginning to think that it was a figment of my imagination.’ ‘Oh yes, my dear, I think I must have been about six, when it burned down. It was by that wood over there. On the other bank. The trees go right down to the water's edge. If I rightly it was where the University used to keep its boats, hence the name. There was a place, if I rightly, a floor above the boats where the undergraduates used to gather. I someone saying it was some kind of club, no doubt where they had a drink when they have finished their rowing, I should imagine. That's where the fire started I believe. It wasn't just the fire there was the terrible tragedy of a girl student dying in that fire. So long ago now, but somethings that you just can't forget,’ ‘Is there anything there now. Where it once stood?’ Asked Sue. ‘Nothing but the slipway, but I believe there is another building, a warehouse of some sorts on the same site. You can get to it from a path along the edge of the wheat field, but you can most likely get a better view from the tow path on this

side of the river. I hope that I've been some help to you.’ ‘Most certainly, and thank you.’ ‘Well, have a lovely day, I must be off.’ Sue watched as the woman and her bicycle were quickly swallowed up by the surrounding wheat fields, before wandering slowly and thoughtfully back to Ted, who was now sitting on a bench sunning himself in the warmth of the morning sun. ‘So what's the story? She looked as though she might have been helpful’ Ted said as Sue approached. ‘Just this, there was a Boat House. Not only that she gave a pretty good description as to where it once stood. The only evidence of where it was, is a slipway that I imagine was for the boats. It seems that there is some kind of warehouse more a less occupying the same location.’ Having related to Ted in more detail, the conversation she had just had with the lady on the bicycle, going over it again as to what she had been told, as much for her own benefit as Ted's. ‘Though she was helpful, but added very little, except for the location, and it was interesting how the memory of the boathouse came back to her when she was a kid. But what was more intriguing she mentioned the student who died in the fire. What we've got’, said Sue sitting down alongside Ted on the bench. ‘We've got two people now who knew of its existence, and at least we’re not chasing after shadows. I might add, that I felt that this woman was real, if you understand what I mean. Though I must say not so long ago, I might well have thought the opposite. Of course, not forgetting the number one thing. What's inside this place, the lock lady mentioned? From what I gather it seems to have been built on the same site as the mysterious Boat House.’ ‘Inside.’ Repeated Ted. ‘Yes, that had just crossed my mind too. One thing I feel pretty sure about, that I doubt very much it’s no longer a Boat House, more than likely some kind of warehouse as you were just told.’ ‘And,’ continued Sue, ‘more importantly is that Jackie could well be inside this building, warehouse or what ever you care to call it. I didn't think it was a too good an idea to ask this woman whom I've just been chatting with, too many

details about the place. I more or less told her I was only interested in its whereabouts. I think I mentioned that I was writing about Cambridge, and the history of the river. That's the story I keep in the back of my mind just in case anybody happens to ask. Otherwise she might well have thought, and correctly too, that we had some other ulterior motive at heart.’ ‘If nothing else, we know that many years ago that it actually did exist, which is more than we knew until only quite recently. And whats more there is some other kind of warehouse on the same site. Now to be completely honest, is just this. What do we do if we find that Jackie is being held there? Should we manage of course, to get inside in the first place. The only answer of course without a question, would be calling the cops.’ ‘I understand what you're saying Sue. But aren't you getting a little a head of yourself? I know I'm being a little negative here, but I think it might be a good idea to wait until we get there, and actually get inside. Then, and at no other time, is when we can arrive at that all too important decision. Let's not over burden ourselves with that possible outcome. I would say that we've got more than enough... What I should perhaps say? Is that we have enough enlightenment, if that’s the right word, to be going on with. I know I'm not sounding the most optimistic. But I suppose that's just me.’ ‘Not at all, I guess I have a habit of just rushing in, and not thinking this and that through. So anyhow between us we should manage to get it right. One way or the other.’ ‘Well Sue, what I might say it is something of a relief, rather than coming up with a blank, so let's get our bums off the bench, and get to it.’ It was only a few minutes stroll along the towpath from where they stood at the water edge, looking fixedly across the river at what appeared to be a fairly recent and solid construction, that gave no evidence, to what it might contain. ‘Your old lady was right, about getting a better view. As she had told you earlier.’ The old slipway could still be clearly seen. This new building was set back from the river by some twenty feet. It was surrounded by a high wire fence, with a paved path leading from the building's entrance, to a security gate in the fence, finishing close to the old slipway. Where more recently a small wooden jetty had been constructed. A boat would be able to tie-up, and any engers could come ashore with little fear of falling into the river.

‘So what now?’ They uttered to each other almost in unison. While continuing to stare across the Cam, with the same thought of what could possibly be inside. ‘Yes.’ Was Sue’s quick retort. ‘We now know where we've got to go, and hopefully we’ll manage to get inside. But until we actually get to see the interior of this place, we won’t know to what we are up against. Now it's my turn to be a little on the negative side. I think it's best to bear in mind that we might well find nothing whatsoever. Any idea as to what to do, should we happen to face that dilemma?’ ‘As you say, we better bear that disappointment in mind. But like yourself I feel very upbeat on what we might find. With something verging on luck, it will bring us a lot closer than what we’ve been up to now. Let's hope it will be the key to Jackie's disappearance’ Said Ted. Pulling Sue a little closer to him. While Sue slipped her arm around Ted's waist, and together they started to slowly walk back to the lock, and toward the narrow bridge which would take them to the far side of the river once more. Stopping on the first step of the bridge Sue leaned her head closer to Ted’s, so to be heard against the sound of gushing and surging water. ‘Would I be right in thinking that you are looking just slightly worried about something or other?’ Sue, smiling seductively went on to say, in a voice that was just above a whisper. ‘You can always tell me you know.’ An utterance barely heard above the sound of rushing water. ‘I didn't know I was looking so worried, just perhaps a little concerned. And you would too, should you happen to be thinking what I'm thinking. If I can elaborate somewhat, it was about how you had casually mentioned the bit on how we are going to gain entry to this warehouse place. It just suddenly struck me, that the finger of fate is pointing directly at me in that respect. Of course I could be completely wrong.’ ‘How could you possibly think that, but who knows. I'm sure we’ll find an answer together, does that make you feel any happier?’ Said Sue with an encouraging smile as they continued up the steps of the bridge, giving an image of a couple without a care in the world. That belied the true difficulties, that they were about to encounter. Only for Ted, that feeling of consternation was not losing its ever tightening grip.

Chapter 28

‘Here we are, I'm beginning to feel like one of the locals,’ remarked Sue, as they stepped off the bridge, once more back on the side of the river from where they had been earlier. ‘At least we’re no longer running around in circles, wondering if there is a boathouse or not. If nothing else, we’ve got that small blessing to be thankful for. Which conveniently leaves us I would say, with nothing else to do but to start looking for that path that skirts alongside the wheat field that the old lady had mentioned to me earlier. More than likely it would be in the same direction to where we left your car. Should with luck, be easy enough to find.’ ‘From what I gather from that all encoming evaluation you’ve just come up with, is for me, is to just follow you. What could be easier, to the ends of the earth should that be your desire. No problem.’ ‘Yes, congratulations you’ve got that one right.’ Said Sue with somewhat of an amused look. ‘My idea is really quite simple, we walk back down this track we came up earlier. And I seem to that the path we’re looking for, is on our right now. I’m pretty sure it’s close to where you parked the car. Let’s go.’ ‘I’m glad to say that you have at least the confidence as far as direction is concerned. Because I have the feeling that the immediate future, it’s all down to us. No parallel world help here. I can't believe I'm saying this. Parallel world, I'm already beginning to sound that I actually accept that there is one. I would just like to add, though please don't read too much in what I’ve just said. You never quite know where it might take you. Apart from anything else that has made its presence felt, I certainly get the feeling that personally I’ve come close enough to this so-called parallel world. While you seem to have accepted all this with far more ease than I would have thought possible.’ ‘A Parallel world? I’m also having some trouble in believing you’ve even mentioned it, I’m actually quite surprised. And there’s me thinking yet again, you’re the one with your feet firmly on the ground, I better keep an eye on you, I’ll never know as to what you might come up with next, let alone think.’ Said Sue trying without much success to keep a straight face.

‘For some reason that escapes me for the moment. I must say that I'm more than comfortable with that definition than thinking about all of this, whatever that might be. The only thing I know for sure, it’s all way above my head. Apart from that, I’ve come to the conclusion, which I might add with a little reluctance on my part, that I don’t have too much choice in that direction. Anyhow we know what this warehouse place looks like now, when we were on the other side of the river. It certainly looks more like a warehouse type of construction, than any kind of boathouse. No doubt we’ll soon see what the backside looks like. More than likely, exactly like the front, and us none the wiser to what could possibly be inside. And if you are thinking what I'm thinking.’ Said a rather thoughtful Ted. ‘Is just this, that I’ve got a good idea as to what you are about to say.’ ‘That this could well be the place where we find Jackie? Could that possibly be what you’re thinking? Would I happen to be right, to imagine just that? Also I would like to say, it's a very strange coincidence that the Scottish Jackie, the coffee bar Jackie, while not wanting to leave out the Jackie lookalike that I was confronted with on Jim's computer and now the present-day Jackie, for want of a better description, are now all here. I can see that you are looking somewhat confused. I don't mean they're all in that warehouse, but what I can easily imagine, together with some confidence that we are now in close proximity to a very solid Jackie.’ Intimated an optimistic Sue. ‘I’m not even going to attempt to work that one out. If you say so, thats fine by me, I'll just accept it.’ Said Ted not wanting to delve further into such matters. Giving one further glance at the place before it disappeared behind trees.Where as Sue, Ted had decided that Sue, was more than convinced. Turning to say, ‘who knows? The one thing I know for sure is that any time soon we’re about to find out.’ The path as Sue had predicted, was hemmed in on one side by wheat, on the other side by a wooden fence topped with barbed wire which followed the contours of the woods. The path continued to follow the line of trees. The same trees that now served as the only silent witness to events past and present. The breeze that had scythed and rippled across the surface of the wheat, was now disturbing the uppermost branches. While the trunks of the trees guarded the site from where “The boathouse” had once stood, from anybody who happened to be wandering down the path that they were now making their way along. A few hundred yards later the fence was divided by a stile. As they stood by the stile, they saw that the path had disappeared into the woods, and it looked that it could

only lead to the structure they had observed from the other side of the river. Giving Sue a hand as she clambered over the stile, whilst saying. ‘For the time being my guess that any further conjecture on my part or yours, will become somewhat irrelevant, and any further speculation can take a walk.’ ‘ ‘Impeccably put.’ Replied Sue, as she jumped off the stile. The path curved to the left, as they approached the bend, where they stopped. The path that they had been walking along, now ed up to a track where the impression of car tyre tracks could clearly be seen. What they observed as they came closer was a little disheartening. A high wire fence with double gates set into it, wide enough to accommodate a car. The gates were secured by a substantial lock, and to deter anybody further who might try to enter, was a notice claiming that this was private property. Also that hazardous material were stored here, and that any person having access must wear anti-contamination clothing before entering.

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‘What is for sure,’ said Ted who had his face pressed up against the wire fence, as he stared at the building. ‘That even if the gate had no lock, that notice itself would put most people off from going any further. It certainly had a lot more impact than that one that only said private road. You could say that the sign was one way of telling anybody who was curious enough to try and enter, to back off.’ ‘And most likely very effective too, that's for sure’ Said Sue, looking at the sternly worded notice. Ted giving the notice a final scrutiny, turned to Sue, saying, ‘what do we do, back off? I'm sure we're not going to do just that.’ ‘I think not,’ replied Sue. ‘We certainly don't have any other direction to pursue, and don't forget how we came to know about this Boat House in the first place, otherwise why are we here now? Otherwise it would be a complete waste of time, so to back off is certainly not an option, that we could possibly go along with.’

‘Okay got your message, that was a silly question of mine I would hardly have thought you would have said otherwise. And it certainly makes it crystal clear, that is why we have to somehow get a look inside. Hazardous materials or not, the thing is how? Forget the doors, from here they certainly look like steel. There's no windows, but there does seem to be a skylight, which has to be our way in. There also seems to be a metal ladder half way up the wall. I expect that ladder is more than likely used as a fire escape, but is too high off the ground for anybody to reach, without a ladder or rope.’ ‘And how,’ said Sue with a look of total exasperation, ‘do you propose to get a ladder, or come to that a rope, in this middle of nowhere, may I dare ask?’ ‘In the boot of my car there's a length of rope, that I once used to get my car out of a muddy field, another one of my misadventures I might add, but that's another story. More importantly there is a spider spanner.’ ‘A spider spanner, please tell me what on earth is a spider spanner?’ Said a more than puzzled Sue. ‘A spider spanner,’ said Ted patiently. ‘It's a spanner in the shape of a cross, that will fit four sizes of car wheel nuts. Which allows you to use both hands on the spanner on any stubborn nut. More to the point, it's a good shape to catch in the rungs of that ladder. Also about the right weight to throw up at the ladder. Get it?’ ‘I see.’ Said Sue, but not really seeing at all, ‘Mmm... Just explain that once more can you.’ ‘What happens is this. I’ll tie the spanner to one end of the rope, and with as much strength as I can muster throw it up at the ladder. With a bit of luck the spider, that is the spanner, will catch, as I said on one of the rungs. Whereupon I can climb up, or if we are really lucky pull the ladder down to us. Got it now have we?’ Sue still looking a little perplexed, at the same time glancing over towards the fence. ‘Okay, I think I grasp the idea, but there is still one other slight problem.’ One more problem you say, and what might that be?‘ ‘That thing you had your face up against a moment ago, the fence.’

‘Yes, a good question. But have no worry, Ted here has the answer to all your problems.’ ‘And what may that be? Please tell me. If you don’t mind me asking, Mr clever bugger.’ ‘Not at all. The answer is quite simple, my car once again. One of the advantages of having a car, especially one such as mine, is that things get thrown into the boot or somewhere, and remain there. Over a period of time, you could say that my car has turned itself into a mobile shed. Also I know for sure, there's a large pair of wire cutters, that I used for some reason I can't . Nothing more to be said then, just one other minor aspect that I find difficult to escape from, and rather not to think too closely about. Just this, the delicate subject of doing a little bit of breaking and entering. Thankfully the fence that I'm about to attempt to cut through from here, looks pretty secluded. I would hate to be caught by the local law enforcement, and trying to explain why we are here, or to anybody else come to that. So in other words it’s crunch time.’ Ted said. ‘ I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to feel just a trifle peckish. So what my stomach is telling me, it might be a good idea to get ourselves a quick snack or something. There's nothing worse than feeling hungry. Especially, if I correctly a rope was mentioned. Not only that, there is one other small detail that has overtaken my immediate thinking, and please do tell me if I'm wrong. Which no doubt means that someone has to climb up it. And failing to see anyone else in this neck of the woods, it occurs to me, that can only mean me. Less you have any hidden rope climbing skills. Apart from that it would not be a particular good idea, considering that strenuous exercise such as rope climbing on an empty stomach is not the best way to go. So I would say the answer is this. Let's go back to the way we have just come, get ourselves once more onto the other bank of the river. Where I reckon I saw a pub, which like most pubs will have food. And as we have just found out that we need my wire cutters, at the same time not forgetting the spider spanner plus the rope, which are of course in the car. While seeing that both car and pub are more or less in the same direction. We can as they say, kill two birds with one stone. Or one short walk, seem like a good idea to you?’ ‘What you say, does indeed make sense, especially if you get stuck on the inside, and start to feel hungry. That would be a total disaster.’ ‘Don't even think it.’ Said Ted with a look of dismay on his face. ‘You were quite

right, I seem to you saying, not so long ago, never get into a conversation with a enger sitting next to you on a plane. If this is where it gets you.’ ‘Not to worry, it's just my practical mind thinking of the worst possible scenario that could possibly befall us, or more to the point, you.’ ‘Nice to know that you have my well being at heart, and I feel very heartened that you are trying to make me feel at ease. What else could a guy ask for I wonder?’ ‘You never know your luck.’ Said Sue with a look of sweet innocence. And could not help adding, ‘should you manage to extract yourself back up the rope of course.’ Turning away from the gate they made their way once more back to the stile, clambering over it to the path that bordered the ripening wheat field, that led back to the track that was not far from the car. And where, after having something to eat at the pub, they would pick up the tools they needed. Again they found themselves climbing up the steps of the bridge that made its way over the lock, where in a matter of seconds they could satisfy their hunger. Stepping off the bottom step of the bridge on to the gravel towpath that headed to the pub itself. Once inside they immediately went over to the lunch counter contemplating for a moment the wide variety of choice on offer. With Sue making an ominous comment to Ted. ‘Just make sure you order enough for yourself. You don't know how long it's going to be until you get a feeling that you might want to eat again.’ ‘Thanks a million, that does a whole lot for my confidence. Well at least the food takes my mind off what we are about to embark on. Not only that, should this endeavour not go as planned I might well find myself having my next meal in the local police cell. That I seem to was recently occupied by your cousin. What has occurred to me since I became a participant in all of this. It's rather like when you have bought something important, except unfortunately you never got round to reading the small print. You certainly for sure give a whole new meaning to the word jailbait. I'm sure the police have got more than enough on their hands with a murder, let alone by me adding to their burden with some breaking and entering. But try and not worry too much about that. I'm sure you'll come and visit me.’

‘Just looking after my main man.’ Sue replied with a grin which perhaps helped in someway to ease the seriousness of what they were about to attempt. Ted had little doubt of Sue's concern for him. A genuine relationship had grown between them, that was somewhat a surprise to him, as he was sure it was for Sue. Plus her anxiety for him during the next precarious few hours. That certainly gave him some degree of comfort, for what they were about to attempt. While both knew without another word being said, that should this endeavour go as they so optimistically hoped, would be the finding of Jackie. Finally putting an end to an ominous shadow that had been cast over them so quickly and violently.

Chapter 29

Sitting once more at a table beside the Cam, waiting for Ted to come and her with the ordered food. Sue reflected how different this location was from the one at the “Anchor” where this dramatic chain of event had first started to unfold. Was when a very distraught James had related on how he had expected to meet up with Jackie for a layback lunch. Only at that point, it became obvious that dateline had been systematically left far behind. For James to come finally to the realisation, that this much looked forward lunch was not to be. And from that time onward the nightmare had began. For herself she knew only too well on how she had been slowly but inevitably become a reluctant participant. ‘Penny for your thoughts.’ Said Ted as he balanced food and drinks, before placing them on the table, while not missing Sue’s faraway contemplation of the river. ‘Mind you, I would say it does not take much deduction on my part to where your thoughts might well be heading.’ ‘Oh, yes. Sorry I was miles away. I was just trying to get my mind around all this turmoil of the last few days. It’s as if we have been caught in an onslaught of the unimaginable. While trying to escape from the realms of the implausible, that in no uncertain seems to want to paralyse us into any kind of action. I never thought all this would be so exhausting, if not physically, certainly mentally.’ ‘I see what you are getting at, and I agree it is certainly somewhat overwhelming. But to my way of thinking, perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to try and distance ourselves from as you say, all this turmoil. To get some kind of fresh perspective. Anyhow, for the time being let’s eat.’ Said Ted reaching across for a wedge of vintage Cheddar and French bread. ‘Okay, you’ve brought me down to earth. And food is a good place as any to land. But your idea of trying to get a different viewpoint, might be a little more difficult. As we’re well and truly enmeshed, as things stand at the moment. What we need is a viewpoint where there is some kind of clarity, if nothing else. And to where that is going to come from is anybodies guess.’ It was almost too much. The French bread, cheese and pickles, chased down

once again with nothing more intoxicating than half a shandy each. Though on this occasion it was not such a casual meal, the food was no more than a necessity for their fast approaching endeavours. Conversation was stinted to generalisations, for fear of being overheard. As they methodically tore chunks of bread into edible mouthfuls, and cutting bite sizes of cheese to eat with the bread. This normally enjoyable relaxed meal lacked the relish of a similar meal that Sue had enjoyed so much with her family and Jackie last Saturday. When at that time, everything was normality itself, how things can change in less than a week concluded Sue, as she put away of what remained of the bread and cheese. Some twenty minutes later when they were back again on the other side of the river and back at the car, before finding their way once more to the warehouse itself. Sue stood back as Ted rummaged through the boot. The length of rope was discovered first, and tossed to the ground, seconds later Ted turned to Sue holding up the spider spanner in one hand. ‘This Sue, is what is called a spider spanner, which hopefully will end any misconception of what it actually is. And as you can see in my other hand, wire cutters, tools of the trade.’ Exclaimed Ted. ‘Now if you can think of anything else that we might well need, I’ll once again look in the depth of my car boot. And see what I can come up with.’ ‘Tools of breaking and entering you mean. I must say I’ve never had a cat burglar as my confidante before. How things change.’ Grinned Sue. ‘But should we be caught red handed, no doubt I will be charged with aiding and abetting. That will certainly make all my friends see me in a totally different light.’ ‘You could say that I suppose, if you're into splitting hairs. Or whatever.’ ‘Sorry, excuse my warped sense of humour, anyhow apart from anything else,’ Sue went on. ‘Do you think that somewhere in this car of yours, there might be such a thing as a bag of some kind? It's most likely not the best of ideas to look as if you're going to scale the North Face of the Eiger. People might start asking questions.’ ‘Good point, I'm sure there is, hang on.’ Said Ted as he opened the rear enger door of the car, leaning in and came out holding a large Harrod’s shopping bag. ‘I take it that this will do?’ ‘Mmm, perfect I suppose. As long as we don’t meet anybody along the way. We hardly look as if we’ve just come back from one of their sales!’

The car was not too far away from the path that led to the woods. Where they could approach the rear of the warehouse with the little fear of being seen. This was where they decided to cut through the wire fence. When the wire fence had been successfully cut through. It was for Ted to make the final assault into the warehouse through the skylight they had seen earlier. In no time at all they were back at the stile, and the short path that led up to the track and to the heavy duty wire security gate set into the fence of the so-called storage facility. ‘Here we are.’ Said Ted. ‘Any further suggestion this time round as to where we might breach the fence?’

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‘Where you say? For you and your wire cutters about to cut through this fence. I guess that my guess is as good as yours. But seeing you're asking, I would say a little further along the fence, closer to the river on the right hand side, as the trees and shrubbery are growing much closer to the fence itself. About there would give us, especially you the most protection from any prying eyes, would be the best place as any. So if you agree, seeing that you are the one who is going to breach the fence that would be the place.’ Following the fence around from the rear of the building before coming to some thick prickly shrubbery, to the most likely place they had agreed-upon to cut through the wire fence. ‘It would seem appropriate ... As the gentleman that I am, I should go first, and try and protect you from these brambles. Otherwise you're going to get scratched to shreds. But should you want to take the lead, be my guest.’ ‘How very thoughtful of you, one never knows when one might meet such a perfect gentleman.’ Said Sue with a feint hint of a grin. ‘I’m not saying, I'm the brains, but you are most definitely the brawn, what else can I say?’ ‘In one word, nothing.’ Ted replied, and immediately started to push his way through the tangled undergrowth and the sharp thorny brambles, which did everything to hinder his age. Sue was following close behind in the wake of Ted, as best as she could. ‘Just here should be good.’ Said Ted pointing to the fence with a scratched and bloodied forearm. Looking through the fence at an

angle it was just possible to see the path that led from the front of the building to the small jetty, which jutted out into the river that was flowing placidly by. A view of tranquility itself, but the vision of calm was not something that Sue or Ted felt. Ted engaged the wire cutter on its first snip of the wire. Until the final cut was made.The wire fence cut much easier and quicker than he had first thought. Soon he had a cut that was more than eighteen inches high from the ground. ‘That should be enough, all I need to do now is to make a similar cut across the top, and close to the bottom, unfortunately the lower wire is embedded in concrete, otherwise I could have just folded it up. Not that it matters, I'll just fold it to the side instead.’ With all the cuts finally made to the fence which eventually gave him an opening that was not much more than an oversized cat flap, which would just about allow him to squirm through.‘I’ll try and break into a bank after this little exploit, if it's this easy.’

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‘Don't get too carried away. You still have to get up onto the roof . You better wait until you get up there, before you make any more ambitious statements.’ Said Sue looking up at the sheer wall of the building to where Ted had to climb. ‘You're so right. I’ll tell you what, I've got a really good idea. How about you going up the rope first, to see if it’s strong enough, if it’s not and with a bit of luck I can catch you. Just kidding, you should have seen the look on your face.’ Ted said as he made the final snip to the wire fence. Sue rewarded Ted with a punch on his arm. Saying, ‘sure I can do that. But I’m sure you’ll bounce much better than me.’ Ted only replied with a rueful smile, as he pushed against the wire, which opened like a small wire door more suitable for a small animal, rather than Ted's bulk. The other side of the fence was clear of any brambles. There were only a few trees, and ferns that had grown to about three feet in height giving him a little more protective cover. But not as much as the heavy spring growth that grew on the other side where Sue was crouched, watching Ted slither snake like through the opening. They had agreed that it would be better if she stayed where

she was. As there was little Sue could do on the other side. From where she was Sue would at least be able to keep an eye open for anybody who might choose to come along. If anything unlikely did happen, Sue would call on her mobile which would be much better than shouting a warning. They had both set their mobiles to tremble mode. What they did not need was one of their mobiles to create more din, than one going off in the middle of an actor's Shakespearean speech. They had enough drama as it was. As Ted wriggled his way through the ferns which helped to cover his progress. When he was still some six feet away from the building he stood up, and unwound the rope that he had wrapped around his waist, before starting his assault on the building. Looking up, he threw the rope up in the general direction of the ladder, just missing one of the rungs. At least it was easy to throw with the weight of the spider spanner attached to the end of the rope. On his second attempt the spanner caught on the third rung from the bottom. Ted pulled on the rope, but nothing happened. The ladder stayed in place, no doubt kept in place by some kind of locking device. Ted was pretty sure that the spider spanner was securely held by the rungs. With Sue looking on, Ted placed his hands high up on the rope as he could, gave the rope a sharp pull before leaning back with his feet on the wall, started to abseil in reverse, up the rope. He quickly reached the ladder, and pulled himself up on to it. Detaching the spider and rope from the ladder's rung to use later, which would enable him to drop down into the interior of the building. Climbing up the remaining rungs he was quickly over the parapet of the building, where he gave Sue a wave. Sue gave a quick wave back, but not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. This she knew was not any kind of a waving situation. Ted had disappeared from view. From the tree stump where she was sitting, she had a good view of the jetty and the river through the undergrowth that camouflaged her position. Except for the rear of the building where only her hearing would let her know should anybody or someone arrive by some vehicle. Her vigilance was interrupted by the vibrating of her mobile. In a brief moment of panic putting the unexpected vibration down to an insect that had penetrated her clothing, though quickly realising it must be Ted giving her an update. ‘Sue it's me, we're in luck, the skylight was slightly open, I have managed now to get it open fully. Unfortunately there is no ladder going down to the floor on the inside. That outside ladder must have been just for getting onto the roof. There is not a great deal of light, is all a bit dim. The whole place is completely empty, except for a brick structure that appears to have four walls of its own.

Which I would say, is to find out what that is all about. So what I'm going to do now, is to attach one end of the rope to the top end of the ladder, and shimmy on down. And hopefully find some kind of answer.’ ‘Be careful.’ ‘Okay, I'll tell you when I'm down.’

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Sue clicked off her mobile, and looked towards the river once more. A mist had formed over the river surface, ri to the lower branches of the overhanging trees of the riverbank. Assuming that this was a normal occurrence of the river. Sue thought no more of it, except it was giving the river a soft velvety look of a Monet painting, which was drawing Sue's eyes into the direction to where this was forming. From the mist a punt was slowly merging. The mist had now limited Sue's visible vision to no more than some hundred yards or so upstream. A youngish man wearing a white shirt with rolled up sleeves, wearing a straw boater on his head. Not the more casual look of a student today, Sue could only casually surmise. The man appeared to be punting the boat towards the jetty. Sue turned her head back towards the top of the building, to see if she could see Ted any more. What Sue saw, she first refused to believe her eyes as to what she was looking at. It was not the building that Ted only minutes ago had scrambled up, that was gone. In its place was another structure, a wooden building that could only be the “Boat House” of long ago. Sue's gaze was now riveted to the scene that was now unfolding in front of her. She could see the corner of a balcony, that looked down over the slipway. A man with a wine glass in his hand, who looked as if he was shouting at the revellers in the punt. Except there was no sound, only an eerie silence. A silence that felt so fragile, that it was only broken by the hammering of Sue's heart. Even the sound of birdsong had faded away. The river, together with the “Boat House” appeared to be enveloped in a yellowish light. Like a print of an old movie. What added to Sue's further disbelieving eyes, there strolling slowly away from the punt was a girl that could have only been the girl in the headscarf that had so memorised Sue in the recent past. This time the headscarf was gone, letting her fair hair fall across her

shoulders, it was as if she was looking at Jackie's twin sister. As Sue continued to be transfixed by the surreal tableau that had materialised before her with the likeness of a desert mirage, it began to fade back into obscurity. “The Boat House” like Cinderella's coach had turned back once more into the twenty-first century storage facility that it actually was. Time had stood still, though Sue had experienced the likeness of Jackie on the computer screen. Even the fleeting image in the coffee bar. But what had just happened, had made a mockery of the world as she had once known it. A thin veneer of reality dissolving into another dimension. Sue knew now how Mr Simpson and his materialising house must have felt. There was nothing that even came close, transcending all of her life's experiences, that could help her to explain in anyway what her eyes had just observed. But what her brain wanted to reject.The perception of the strange fluid laws of this other universe, that she had just encountered. That seem to govern the interchange of time and space, which she was so desperately trying to come to with. Could it be a time slip was her first thought, that was something she ed vaguely reading about, but even at the time thinking anything of that nature was way beyond the range of anybody's ideas of normality. But what else? Looking once more at the building that Ted had broken into, it was as solid as ever. Gradually feeling calmer, Sue hesitantly felt for her mobile, she knew that she had to speak to someone, even if it was just to hear her own voice. At the same time thinking this was not a good juncture to tell Ted of the inconceivable incident that had just past. Sue pressed the Ted button, on the hope of hearing his voice, that she could once again grasp to what appeared to be a fast disappearing reality. Instantly hearing Ted declare. ‘I’ve just managed to get down to the floor, everything is okay so far, but had a bit of a strange experience as I was coming down the rope. I could have sworn I actually saw racing sculls and oars on a wall of this place. It must be my imagination going in to overload. What is strange enough, there is another structure as I thought when I looked down from the skylight. I'm standing in front of now. It’s a smaller building constructed inside this one. ‘That seems odd, take care.’ Sue decided not to comment on Ted's fleeting vision, or her own. He had enough to occupy himself as it was. Without wanting to add any further perplexing images to cloud his senses for the time being. Ted's first decision was to take look at the door that led out to the slipway. As a

prudent precaution, should the need come to make a quick exit. The door was dead locked, as to prevent any opening from his side, and found that it was the same with the rear. It will have to be up the rope again, he told himself. At the same time thinking, it was a good job that he had kept up his health club hip, knowing that he was fit enough to shin up the rope once more, and to exit the way he had come in. The interior of the building was void of anything, certainly no hazardous materials. Reinforcing his belief that the place had an alternative agenda. The other construction took up just over two-thirds of the interior he was standing in. This other brick built structure was independent of the main building. Having its own four walls and a flat roof, no windows except the ventilation bricks high up on the wall, and once again there was a metal door, with similar look as the doors that led to the outside. There was no way of opening the doors unless you were the key holder. Ted was now standing close to the door of the interior room. There appeared to be some kind of letter box set into the door, this too had its own lock. Ted gave a couple of rapps on the door with his knuckles. The sound was dead, as you might expect if you had hit a piece of solid wood in a similar fashion. The lack of any kind of hollowness echoing back, suggesting that the door was thick, and most likely insulated against any sound from getting out or in. If there was anybody inside they were not about to hear his rapping on the door with his knuckles. The other thing he had taken from the car was a medium sized screwdriver. A tool he thought that could be useful, the screwdriver had a plastic handle. ‘Perfect.’ He said under his breath, as he took it out of his jacket pocket. Holding it by the screwdriver end, he struck the middle of the door once hard, before giving an even harder ratt a tatt tatt, and waited. Nothing, as he was about to try again there was a dull thud of response. Ted gave one more hard bang on the door, the dull thud he had heard seconds before, was instantly returned. Ted also thought he could hear a voice calling out. Looking once more at the lock, he knew there was no way for him to open it. With a sigh of frustration, he put the screwdriver back into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, to tell Sue of the desperate and almost inaudible thumping sounds he could just about still hear, that were still continuing from the interior of the structure in front of him. Before Sue could say hello, she heard Ted say. ‘This other room I just mentioned. I would say, that there appears to be someone, with out a doubt, inside. But there is no way for me to open the door, any ideas? I'm getting out of here. I'll be with you as soon as I can get up this rope and down the other side.’ ‘Okay, see you in a second, the coast is clear, be careful.’

A couple of minutes later Sue saw Ted putting his legs over the edge of the roof, and one foot searching for the upper rungs of the ladder, with his rope over his shoulder making his way carefully down to the lower rungs. Making sure the spider end of the rope was secured to the ladder. Giving the rope a hard pull to make sure it was. Went hand over hand down the rope, jumping off a few feet from the ground. To make a crouching run through the undergrowth to the fence, he flung himself through the opening in the fence Getting to his feet, immediately saying. ‘What do you think now?’ ‘We have no option but to call the police, even if we are not positive. If in fact it is Jackie who is doing the knocking, but I have no doubt myself of who it is. And what I'm about to tell you now is going to sound very strange. Or you might well think, that I'm going completely mad. What has happened to me in the last few days is almost acceptable, but what I just witness I still can't believe. It appears, I'm being confronted with a world that I had once thought could not possibly exist.’ When Sue had finished her inexplicable story to a dumbstruck Ted, going on to say. ‘This all happened I guess, as you were lowering yourself down on the rope. You, I imagine only experienced the tail end of what happened, when you saw for yourself those racing sculls and oars. So you could say that your quick flash of this manifestation that you also witnessed. Plus mine, was telling us in no uncertain that more than likely that we are certainly in the right place.’ ‘That's all very well, but how are you going to explain all this to the police. When we come to tell them, on how we managed to find Jackie, and they were unable to. I get a strong feeling they are going to be just a little on the sceptical side. Apart from anything else, I don't think it would be the best of ideas to make any mention of that morphing experience you just had.’ ‘You certainly have a point as far as that goes.’ Said Sue looking thoughtful. ‘Stretching the truth is the only way to go, certainly no point in elaborating any further, even if we did they would more than likely think we were a couple of nuts, and not bother to turn up at all.’ ‘And what possible white lie on this occasion do you have in mind? If we can call it that... Might this be?’ Said a quizzical sounding Ted. ‘What about if I said, I found a note slipped under my door back at the hotel, and

all we wanted to do was to check it out first before calling them, and perhaps not wasting their time?’ ‘We could do worse I suppose, but I hope that you still have James's father’s telephone number. As I have a feeling that we might well need him before all this is over. If all this goes horribly wrong. Apart from the breaking and entering bit. And one more thing, won't the police need a search warrant or something, before they start smashing down doors, or what ever they do to gain entry.’ ‘That also happened to ran through my mind, and the answer to that is simple.’ Said Sue, looking directly into Ted's eyes. ‘I don't even want to think about what you're going to say... You want me to go back in, and patiently wait for the police to arrive! What ever made me think that.’ ‘You have it in one.’ Ted, though not over enthusiastic about the idea, understood that there really was no other solution to their tricky dilemma. ‘To think up to now, I have led a virtuous life, free of any criminal activity, now this. I take it that you will come and visit me, when they give me an extra long sentence. To make an example of me, to anybody else that might have similar ideas of becoming a cat burglar.’ ‘Don't worry, my very own super hero, I will bake you a cake, and make sure there is a hacksaw blade, inside it.’ ’I’m glad that someone can still see there's a funny side to all of this, but up to now it has not as yet struck me.’ ‘I’m sure it will to both of us one day.’ Sue said to a less and hopeful and slightly disheveled Ted. ‘I can only but share in your optimism.’ Said Ted wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. ‘But I'll tell you what, that day can't come too soon. And whats more, when that day does arrive, I'll take you on an idyllic punt jaunt on this very river in front of us.’ ‘I’m all for that, providing you don't fall in.’

‘Nothing like having someone who has complete confidence in you.’ Confirmed an anything but a confident Ted. ‘And why is it, that you still have a somewhat of a perturbed look upon your face.’ ‘I just can't get it out of my mind that surreal happening that I witnessed just now. You might well think that what happened at the Coffee bar was a little bizarre, to say the least. But what I observed while you were still in the warehouse is still a little difficult for me to take in. If nothing else it has certainly led me to believe to what was once totally unbelievable to a complete new dimension I’ve just been exposed to, way beyond the bounds of any normal understanding. On looking back to the very beginning, and that bombed house in Scotland, I guess that too was in the same dimension as the reappearing boathouse. I’m still finding it difficult to believe in what went on in front of my eyes. What with that image of Jackie I saw on the computer screen. And now this. It's all coming a little bit too much.’ A few seconds went by before Ted spoke, only to say. ‘I guess there's no answer to that, I certainly don't have one and I don't suppose you do either, but if I correctly, I once said we just have to accept what seems to be going on around us. The only other thing I can add to your perplexing happening is just this, should you be keeping count. You can add one more, I would say. And that makes five. ‘Never was there a truer word spoken,The only word I would be able add to that, is this. You say, ”seems.” I think I would go, for sure. And as far as lookalike Jackie’s, you're certainly right in that direction.’ With Ted replying, ‘that is one thing we can certainly agree on. There’s certainly no doubt about that.’

Chapter 30

Once more back in the undergrowth that was growing close to the fence, Ted found a tree stump to sit on along side Sue. Breathing hard as he slowly regained his breath, went on to say while shaking his head slowly at Sue. ‘I hate to repeat myself, but I can't help but think just one more time, that I was about to enjoy myself in my local when you phoned, and that was only on this Saturday night just gone, so much for a carefree evening and a pint at my local. Now on a Sunday afternoon, I already have the skills of breaking and entering. And within the hour, more than likely to be arrested. It does sometimes amaze me what one will do for a pretty face.’ ‘Thanks for your flattery, but now you know that for yourself, rather than me. And indeed, it's more than likely that it's Jackie in there. And our only option open to us is to do something about it. I'm sure you’ll agree, this is certainly not something we can just walk away from.’ ‘Only too well, and if it's not the missing Jackie, I like to know who the bloody hell it is?’ replied Ted. ‘I take it that you're going to call this Inspector so and so, you told me about. When you had that rather acrimonious meeting with him at the police station.’ ‘Inspector Coombes... Yes he gave me his card, which of course has his mobile number on it.’ ‘Okay, give him a call now, to make sure he's around. Let's hope that he’s not enjoying a Sunday afternoon nap right now. Before I start clambering up to that skylight again. There must be a name for what I'm about to do. Though for the life of me I can't think what.’ ‘What about coppers bait? Perhaps they will even rename the lock after you. How about Copper's Bait lock? Or if you like, as you happened to mention Jail Bait lock, yes that sounds even better.’ ‘Your humour once again knows no bounds,’ as far as I'm concerned. Jail Bate lock just about sums it all up.’ Was Ted reply, as he looked through the wire

fence at the dangling rope still attached to the ladder higher up on the building's wall. While Ted looked on, Sue took out the inspector’s card that she had been given earlier on, from one of her pockets, together with her mobile. Pressing in the Inspector’s number, that was answered after the third ring tone. ‘Coombe’s here.’ ‘Hello it's Suzanne Jameson, if you I was with James Grant.’ ‘Yes indeed, Miss Jameson I ... What can I do for you?’ ‘Jackie, Jacqueline Trent.’ ‘I take it that you have some information?’ ‘I know where she is.’ ‘Please do go on Miss Jameson.’ ‘I’m at a place called The Baits Bite lock. She is being held in a nearby building. A warehouse, would be more correct.’ ‘And how do you happen to know that?’ Sue, while trying to keep the nerviness from her voice went on. ‘A friend whom I'm with, has been inside. And found another room that has been built inside the main building. Where he'd heard thumping noises, returning his own knocking on the door that was coming from inside this room. This is where we believe that you’ll find Miss Trent. My friend is now back in there once more.’ ‘I do hope what you are saying Miss Jameson is correct. Otherwise I fear that I will have to arrest you for illegal entry!’ ‘That I understand only too well. But I was thinking that you might have had second thoughts about entering. And having to waste time trying to get a search warrant. But as there is someone inside, apart from who I think it is, I feel for sure it can only be Jackie Trent. And you’ll have good reason to find out who this person really is. Clearing away any further doubt you might have. While not

forgetting your own wanted posters. It does say on those posters, to call if you have any information.’ ‘Taking the law into your own hands is not the best of ideas Miss Jameson, but for the time being I'll say no more about that.’ ‘There's one other thing I should tell you.’ ‘There's more?’ ‘Only that my friend found out, that the only way in was through the skylight. And that he is unable to open the ground floor doors from the inside, nor the door of this internal room.’ ‘What you're saying, is that we should have means to open the door, not a problem. Right Miss Jameson, be in front of the cottage which is on the south side of the River. I'll be with you in no more than 20 minutes.’ Before Sue was able to say another word, the Inspector hung-up. ‘I guess that I would be right in saying that so far he hasn't actually asked on how we found out,’ said Ted. As Sue clicked off her mobile, as had a very inquisitive inspector.

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‘That's another story for the time being, without a doubt. Anyhow you better get yourself back up on the roof, and back down. As you’ve just heard I've already said that you’re inside.That's the least we can do is to give the inspectors some justification that there has in actual fact been a break in, i.e. You.’ Sue watched as Ted climbed up the rope to the metal security ladder, and as before freeing the rope from the bottom rung, to use for his descent into the building itself. Carrying on up the ladder until he reached the parapet of the building once more, until he disappeared into the skylight. With Ted now inside the building, Sue immediately made her own way back to the lock.This should get very interesting from now on, she thought to herself. Before Sue could ruminate any further a car came around the corner stopping close to the cottage, followed by

an unmistakable police car, that drew up alongside the inspectors. Sue instantly recognised Inspector Coombes as he got out of his car. Sue quickly walked over to him. ‘I didn't expect to see you quite so soon Miss Jameson.’ ‘Nor I, and I'm sure you're going to ask, how is it that I know that Jacqueline Trent is in there?’ ‘Yes, as you can imagine that has crossed my mind, but for the moment that can wait. More importantly show me where you think she is.’ Sue led the Inspector and three uniformed police officers back to the riverside warehouse, where Ted had discovered the inner structure. Which had raised Sue’s hopes as to where Jackie would be finally found. Sue brought them round to the rear of the warehouse, pointing out how they had made an entry by cutting through the wire fence.’ Shading her eyes against the sun, pointing up with her other arm to the top of the building, where Ted had managed to get inside through the skylight. ‘I think,’ said the Inspector. ‘We’ll make a more orthodox entry.’ Motioning to one of his men to get the rear fence gate open. In matters of seconds they were walking through into the building’s compound. Next the same officer started to open the rear door, the Inspector said, without taking his eyes off the door. ‘He's using a device our American friends invented, which quickly opens most locks. Okay we have the back door open. I didn't want to go in through the front, that might have caused unwanted attention to ourselves. Just in case that the person who you say has imprisoned Miss Trent decides to turn up. That is what we’ll about to find out. I take it that your friend did not find any hazardous material inside as that notice implies.’ ‘No.’ Said Sue. He realised that, when he was able to look down from the skylight, that the place was empty. Which he thought was a bit suspicious in the first place. Apart from that windowless room, where we believe that Jackie is being held.’ ‘I see, for you that moment has arrived, whether all this is true. Or I'm going to have to arrest both of you as I said, for illegal entry. And for good measure waisting police time.’

‘That I'm more than totally aware of. Except I would not be putting myself into this position, if I wasn't absolutely sure that she was being held captive in there. It was not something that I could just walk away from. As I'm sure you understand my predicament Inspector.’ What Sue was not about to explain why she had felt so confident to the inspector to what she had experienced during that hardly believable moment when warehouse transposed itself into the actual Boathouse. And was not about to get into a discussion concerning the matter of Time Slips, with the inspector any time soon. ‘Let's hope so.’ Retorted the still doubtful and dubious Inspector. As the door opened Sue's first concern was Ted. The constable who had opened the outside door, let the Inspector in first, with Sue following up at the rear, who was trying to peer over the shoulders of those in front of her, fully expecting to see Ted. ‘Your friend does not appear to be here. You did say I believe that he was inside.’ Said the now even more sceptical Inspector as he looked around in all directions as his eyes adjusted to the gloomy interior, but failing to look upwards. ‘I’m here.’ A voice echoed from the roof. When a rope suddenly came snaking down from the skylight, with Ted descending from it. ‘I thought it would be a good idea to go back up there until you lot got here, just in case that Jackie's abductor decided to turn up. By the way I'm Ted, Sue's friend Ted Howeard.’ ‘I expect you have guessed, I'm Inspector Coombes. I suppose it's a silly question to ask, that you might actually know who this person might possibly be? The abductor, that is.’ Looking at both of them with raised eyebrows. ‘That we have no idea, but I don't think we're wrong as far as Jackie is concerned.’ Said Sue, with Ted nodding his head in agreement, and pointing a finger at the anonymous brick structure dominating the warehouse floor. ‘If it’s not Jackie, there’s somebody or other, who is for sure certainly locked in that room.’ ‘All right, the time of doubt is over, for you the truth. I hope all your assumption are correct. And to get this other door open. Constable, do your thing.’ Said the Inspector, pointing to the door. ‘I do hope that I’m not being over optimistic, and dare I say, this could be the time when we might well get to the bottom of all this.’ As the lock opener was put to the door, dull thumping sounds could still be

heard coming from the confines of the interior. ‘Do you believe us now Inspector?’ The Inspector oblivious to the question, as the tumblers of the lock clicked, and the constable stood back waiting for the inspector’s command to open. A hush had fallen over all those concerned. Like an audience full of expectation waiting for the curtain to go up and the first act to begin. Each and everyone eyes fixated on the heavy door, now on the verge of opening, completely memorised as the truth was about to be revealed, and with a theatrical like slowness the door was swung open, sharing its hidden secret.

Chapter 31

The predominate floor area of the warehouse by day was lit by light flooding down from the skylight that was intensified by the now wide open doors behind them, where they had entered. This was further increased by artificial light suddenly flooding out from the fully open door of the inner structure. Silhouetting, what only could be Jackie against this light. For Jackie there was no mistake in who she was looking at. The light that escaped from behind her, radiated off the face of Sue. Who in the recent past had become such an intricate part of her life. Adjacent to Sue, she saw that there were others. What gave Jackie further reassurance, was the presence of three uniformed police officers. It was at this moment, with absolute certainty and clarity she knew that her harrowing ordeal was now at an end. Before Sue could break the all engulfing silence that for a brief moment had stunned them into inaction. Inspector Coombes stepped forward. Sue knew immediately with no ambiguity whatsoever, what was about to happen. ‘You are Miss Jacqueline Trent, I believe.’ ‘Yes.’ Was Jackie's hardly audible reply. ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of professor Toms, and I must warn you that anything you say, can and will be used in evidence against you.’ Jackie whose look of relief, had now turned to amazement and disbelief. ‘Murder! Me!’ She gasped. Along with a look of total incredulity. The Inspector went on to say ‘I don't normally apologise to someone I've just arrested. But you must understand that I have no option. For the time being I have to detain you. I can see that you are not in any position to help yourself, or for that matter you knew that there was a warrant out for your arrest. Do you know how you came to be here?’ For a moment Jackie looked blankly at the inspector, desperately trying to regain her sense of equanimity, before saying in a hesitant voice. ‘I’ve no idea. My last

recollection was of my tutor’s cocktail party, I seem to my tutor, professor Toms friend speaking to me, He... ’ Said a very bewildered Jackie, as her voice trailed away. ‘He’s been murdered you say!’ Sue suddenly had a lot of questions of her own. The first was to the Inspector. ‘What about the person who has imprisoned Jackie here in the first place? I would have thought, that should be your number one culprit.’ ‘Miss Jameson, I understand your frustration. To answer your question I'll be leaving two of my men behind. And they will wait for the arrival of this person. In the meantime the outside doors will be locked as normal, and not before long, I'm sure we will have a very surprised suspect on our hands. By the way Miss Trent how were you fed?’ ‘As far as I know there appears to be more than enough food and drink,’ said Jackie pointing to the refrigerator. ‘Though up to now I haven't had more than a couple of sips of water, when I woke up. And certainly none of the food, imprisonment doesn't actually make you feel that hungry.’ ‘I see. Okay you two.’ Glancing at the two uniformed police officers who were standing close by, with their sergeant. ‘You will be staying here. It seems that you won't starve, I'll be ing you later.’ ‘Miss Jameson, Mr Howeard, I’m sure you understand that absolute security is very necessary. This person, or I should say suspect, must have no idea that we have knowledge of Miss Trent’s place of detention, if we are about to apprehend this individual.’ Again speaking to the two constables who were staying. ‘I’ll be sending some plainclothes officers to watch the outside. You should have good warning of anyone making a visit. Make sure your mobiles are working correctly. As soon as you make an arrest me, is that understood?’ ‘Sir.’ As the door of what was Jackie’s place of confinement was locked once more. ‘I feel certain that this person.’ The Inspector said, to those who were listening, at the same time pushing against the door to make sure it was firmly shut. ‘That this individual will either arrive by boat, or from the rear of the building by car, along that farm track that leads here. This is not the track that we used to get here. The one we came along as you know, does not connect to this building. So it’s unlikely that this person will turn up on foot. Miss Trent you will come with

my Sergeant and myself. And let's hope Miss Trent, we can wrap up all the loose ends, sooner than later.’ Then looking at Sue and Ted. ‘I would like the both of you to follow me back to Cambridge police station. Where you can perhaps help me to spread a little more light on everything. And hopefully a statement that will fill in some of the gaps that until now I have not, unlike yourselves been privy too.’

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When everybody had left, the two constables left behind gave a heave of relief. As they took off their helmets and jackets. ‘Well how about that.’ Said Jim. ‘How about what?’ ‘All this.’ replied Jim.’ ‘What about it?’ Grunted his more experienced colleague. ‘I tell you what, I never thought I'll be in on a big crime bust. And what about that girl, you know, the one who was kidnapped. I could hardly believe my eyes, let alone take my eyes off her, she was a real looker.’ ‘You better not tell your old lady that, or she'll get jealous. You know how she is, and you’ll be in real trouble. For good measure you might well find yourself with a couple of black eyes.’ ‘Too right.’

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The Inspector with Jackie and his Sergeant leading the way to the rear door,

accompanied by Sue. Ted was told to exit the way he had come in, up the rope. So he could retrieve it, otherwise as the Inspector remarked, ‘it might look more than a little suspicious if it was left dangling, and more than likely on seeing it would make a run for it.’ Further remarking, ‘that this was not the time to think otherwise. Making our task of apprehending this individual, that more difficult.’ That of course, they were told must not happen. Securely locking up the warehouse once more making sure there was no evidence that it had been broken into. The whole party trooped their way back to the lock, to where the marked police car was parked, alongside the Inspectors. ‘We’ll take your car back to the station Sergeant. I'll leave mine here, that way we won't leave any sign we've been around. I'll pick up my car later. ‘I imagine your car’ said the Inspector to Ted. ‘Was the one I saw parked in a lay-by close to here, we’ll wait for you there, and you can follow us in.’ A dazed looking Jackie was already sitting in the back of the police car when the inspector got in, and sat next to her. Lowering the enger window the Inspector said to Sue and Ted, ‘I’ll talk to you both at the station.’ Sue and Ted watched, as the police car drove off, back to the Cambridge Police Head Quarters. Looking at each other, having not said a word since leaving the place of Jackie's incarceration. Before continuing up the track to where their car was parked. Finally Sue turning to Ted went on to say, ‘I feel now that I can speak once again. I was too afraid that if I had said anything, he would use it as evidence against us or something. I never felt so intimidated in all my life back there. Not only that, the suspense of just actually wondering if it was going to be Jackie behind that door before it was finally opened. As far as myself goes, it has all become a little too much to take in. A total overload of the unanticipated. When I had to confront a serious situation in my journalistic days it would have little effect, for all you have to do was report what was happening, this was something else altogether. What I would really like to know, who could have done such an appalling thing?’ ‘I know what you mean, you could certainly say it was all more than a little bit stressful. We better get a move on. they’ll be waiting for us.’ As they turned to walk off towards the car they both turned to look over their shoulders, as they heard a voice from behind them. Seeing that it was the elderly lady that Sue had spoken to earlier in the day. ‘Aren't you girl I gave directions to this morning? I hope you're not in any kind of trouble, I don't think I've ever

seen so much activity in these parts.’ Sue, hoping while walking over to where the old lady was standing, some distance from the front door of her cottage, that her smile would go some way to pacify her, who was looking just slightly more than worried. Not wanting to cause any further anxiety simply said. ‘Hello again. Nothing to worry about, it was just something we've found by that warehouse and I thought we better call the police, sorry I cannot tell you more, as the police told me not to mention about what we’ve found.’ Sue immediately thought, for what she had just said sounded just a bit on the dubious side. ‘Sorry we have to go as we have to follow that police car that just left. Bye, thanks again for your help this morning.’ Walking away Sue had hopefully put any worries to rest that the old lady might have had. Only to leave behind a somewhat bewildered person. ‘I hope I sounded reasonably convincing.’ Going on to further say to Ted, ‘but I can't help but wonder as to what she might make of all this, when it be comes the main attraction in the local newspaper, and I imagine even the nationals.’

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The police car was waiting. Moving off as soon as they got there. In the police car, the Inspector knew that Jackie must be feeling very tense. ‘I appreciate that you must be feeling very stressed at the moment, it's easy for me to say, not to worry too much. At the same time being accused of murder, it must have been quite a shock. You’ve certainly been through a difficult ordeal, and as you said, you’ve no idea on how you ended up there.’ ‘I just don't know what happened. As I mentioned to you back at that place we’ve just left.The last thing I was Professor Toms cocktail party, waking up in that room...’ As Jackie hesitated, the Inspector's mobile went off. ‘Sorry.’ The Inspector said, as he pulled out his mobile. At the same time the sergeant catching a glance of the Inspector in the car’s rear view mirror saw a look of surprise cross the Inspector's face as he spoke. ‘What you're telling me that someone bearing a perfect resemblance to that poster has come into the station only a few minutes ago, and is now sitting in one of our interview rooms waiting for my arrival?’

‘Correct sir.’ ‘I don't doubt your judgement, but you're sure that the person on the poster, and this person is one of the same?’ ‘Never been more sure sir.’ ‘OK Sergeant, I'll be back at the station in about fifteen minutes.’ To the Sergeant driving the car he said. ‘Tell me, did I mention to anyone, as to why I was coming out here?’ ‘No sir, only to make sure our PC lock expert was with me, and one other officer, is everything okay sir?’ ‘Yes Sergeant, just making sure we have complete security on this case. When we arrive at the station, we will go in through the rear.’ A feeling of uneasiness had crept over him, and the words, “perfect resemblance.” With those words echoing through his head, impelling him to turn to Jackie. ‘I like to ask you a simple question, do you have a sister?’ ‘No, I'm an only child.’ There were not many times in his life when he did not have an answer, this was certainly one of them. Knowing there must be a simple explanation. He seemed very adamant. He also knew that the sergeant was rarely wrong in making an ID. Knowing all to well that a face as beautiful as this, any mistake was unlikely. Briefly stealing a quick glance at this face That he, like any other man was drawn to this face, like a moth is drawn to a flame. ‘When Miss Trent and myself are about to get out of the car, I shall wait for you Sergeant, for you to check that no one is around to observe us, before we get out of the car. Go in and open a door of one of the interview rooms, and come back to us when the coast is clear. If you're wondering Miss Trent as to why I'm taking such precautions. It’s essential that your abductor has no knowledge that you’re no longer a prisoner of that room.’ Though he himself knew that the underlying reason, was that unsettling call from the desk sergeant. A bewildering number of speculations was causing more than enough confusion for him than he would've ever thought possible. Ted's car had been caught at some traffic lights. The police car had gone on

ahead, leaving Ted to find his own parking place in a side street near the police station. When they walked into the entrance of the Police Station, they could not help but hear the end of a conversation that was going on, between the Inspector and the desk Sergeant. ‘I think the solution is this.’ The Inspector was saying. ‘Is to see who you’ve actually got in the interview room.’ ‘No doubt about it sir, it's our poster girl all right, I'll put my whole month wage packet on it.’ The desk Sergeant said, as he saw Ted and Sue, who had gone unnoticed by the Inspector as they entered the police station . ‘How can I help you two?’ Before they could answer, the Inspector spoke. ‘They're with me Sergeant.’ And to Sue who was standing closer to the Sergeant's desk. ‘Take a seat over there if you would. I'll be with you in a couple of minutes.’ Leaving Sue and Ted in the waiting area. The Inspector followed his desk Sergeant, and to disappear through the door leading to the interview rooms. Sue looking at Ted as they sat down, saying quietly. ‘I guess you know what the Sergeant apparently thought he saw?’ ‘Only too well, but I don't think that the Sergeant will want to become a candidate for your TV documentary. And I would say without any doubt in a second or two, he's going to try and explain why there is no one in the interview room. Not only that, it's more than likely locked. I must say, I feel somewhat sorry for him. Not the best of shoes to be in at the moment. Would be my guess.’ ‘You could not have put it better for sure, to what happened just now. It will be something he will not forget in a hurry. No doubt be thinking about it for evermore, as you say, you cannot but help feel sorry for him. The only other thing, but like you say he’s not about to become a contender in this forthcoming TV thing I'm involved with. What I can imagine, that if I ever mentioned anything to Mike about this little episode we just witnessed, his immediate reaction would be what a perfect segment, we must use it. The only thing, who would believe it?’ They could hear the raised voice of the Inspector behind the door that was half way open, next to the Sergeant's desk. ‘Let me get this straight Sergeant, you put her in here where we’re actually standing now! If I'm correct, and please tell me if I'm not. And you'd told that WPC who is still sitting outside to remain there?’

‘Yes sir, as you saw when you came in, and to my knowledge she has not left her post. As I'm sure you know yourself sir, that you can only leave by that door, there are no windows. I'm sure our WPC will collaborate, that no one has left or entered that interview room apart from myself and yourself, sir.’ ‘Sergeant I think you had better follow me. I would like to show you someone.’ They were able to see the inspector turn abruptly, as he took a couple of paces from where they were, to a door almost opposite from the one they had just left, where another police officer who sitting outside that room, immediately stood when the inspector approached, while nodding to her, before saying. ‘Open the door.’ ‘That's her Sir, I must have been confused as to what room I had put her in.’ The Sergeant said, now looking a lot more relieved. ‘Really Sergeant! And how do you explain that I myself personally put Miss Trent in here, only a matter of seconds ago, with my Sergeant Stephen's here as a witness.’ The look of relief on the desk Sergeant's face, had transformed into a look of total bafflement. ‘I just don't understand sir. How could that possibly happ...’ Abruptly breaking off any further deliberations. As he saw that the not too happy inspector was about to speak his mind. The Inspector looked hard at the Sergeant, Before repeating more to himself than the Sergeant. ‘You don't understand, I'm sure as hell that I don't either.’ Jackie who had also been a silent observer to this charade, watched as the Inspector turn on his heels, and walk smartly back through the door to the area where Sue and Ted were sitting. Leaving behind a dumbfounded Sergeant who had now returned to the empty interview room, staring at the table, and the two chairs, as if trying to make someone, or anyone materialise as the occupant of the room once more, even going as far to close the open door in the forlorn hope that this person had somehow secreted herself in the space behind the door, of the all too obviously vacant interview room. If only to put to rest his ongoing disbelief.

Chapter 32

The orangery glow of the setting sun reflected over the rippling eddies disturbing the surface of the Cam, as the river's current made its way downstream through the Fens of eastern England, to finally merge with the waters of the River Ouse, where it ed The Wash, finally to the North Sea. Felix Latimer felt absolutely contented, a time he had been looking forward too with much anticipation. As he steered his forty foot launch down the river towards the “Baits Bite” lock which was close to his warehouse that contained something far more valuable than the hazardous material that the red lettered notice board that stood along side the gates suggested. He now had his goods, he liked this term. Human cargo was not to his liking. It offended his sensibilities, apart from the fact was the actual sordidness of such a trade. He was not as far as he was concerned, a trafficker of people, brainpower yes. It had taken time to reach this point of the enterprise, and everything had now so conveniently fallen into place. Apart from that one hiccup. When that fool Toms got last-minute cold feet. Perhaps it was the drink of the cocktail party that had given him moralistic qualms. Did he really think that he could just pull the plug on my meticulous plans, idiot! He deserved to die. But what pleased him even more, was the unexpected bonus of the yet untouched package of money he had recently given to Toms. And the only suspect was the Trent girl. The police would not look any further, it all slotted together all so perfectly. Her disappearance, with all fingers pointing in one direction, hers. ‘Perfect, perfect.’ He muttered to himself as the “Baits Bite” lock was coming into view on the left of the river, as he ed a solitary angler sitting under an umbrella, patiently waiting for a bite. Felix could now see the jetty of his property on the right as he approached. He gradually eased the throttle back, so now it was just the boats forward motion, and the current carrying the boat towards the jetty. A slight touch of reverse throttle, and the launch was almost at a standstill, as it nudged the jetty. Felix jumped ashore with the mooring rope in hand, and tied the rope up to a wooden post in one practiced motion. Making sure that his craft was secure, he walked up the slipway towards the entrance with key ready in his hand. As he turned the key in the door lock, he once more went through the plan in his head that he had so often rehearsed. To wait until complete darkness fell, before re-boarding his boat with the Trent girl. He knew that he would have no trouble in subduing her. It was simplicity itself,

apart from the fact of having Jackie totally under his control, from that very first moment when he had first spoken to her, to the time when she had so obediently left. All he had to do was to utter his one control word, and Jackie would become totally pliant to his bidding. He had also istered a sedative to her when he had placed her in the confines of the secure room he had built. Though he felt that was really unnecessary, he knew without a doubt that he had complete faith in his powers of suggestion. But at the same time felt that this was no time for anything untoward that would go to blight his carefully thought out next step. After all he did not want damaged goods. Her well-being while in his captivity was to his advantage. After all he thought, he was being paid a great deal of money for this enterprise. There must be no mistake now. Once she was safely aboard his boat, he would steer it down the Cam until he met up with The River Ouse. There she would be transferred to a waiting cargo boat which would be waiting at the mouth of the river, out of his hands, but into his hands the final half of his reward. Such a lucrative business, he could not help but surmise. Who knows he thought to himself when everybody had forgotten about the Trent girl, some other up and coming young undergraduate perhaps.

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What Felix did not perceive. At the same time failing to understand, was the significance of the lone angler. PC Newton who was enjoying this stakeout, not a task that most policemen enjoyed. But being told by his Sergeant to sit on the banks of the Cam, and do the thing that gave him real pleasure, was too good to be true. This has got to be the best stake out ever, here he was sitting on the banks of the River decked out in his fishing gear as the Cam swirled lazily . A perfect early summer evening for watching the float of his fishing line bob in the flowing waters. Not only that he had already reeled in one fish. As he was disengaging the hook, a launch came into view that appeared to be steering a course to the jetty, which he had been told to keep an eye on. Wishing it had been longer before the subject had turned up, allowing him more fishing on police time. He knew that duty was duty, and removed his mobile from his multi-pocketed fishing jacket, with the umbrella hiding any action from anybody on the ing boat. PC Newton pressed the prescribed button. In the warehouse a mobile of one of the patiently waiting police officers went off. ‘Subject is just

manoeuvring his boat up to the jetty, and will be with you in no time at all.’ ‘This looks like it Jim lad.’ Said Jim's fellow constable and off-duty mate, who had been reclining on the bed that had recently been occupied by Jackie. It was not often that either of them were involved in such a serious crime. Their duties were much more down to earth in nature, such as sorting out an affray at a local pub. The highlight of most days of duty would more than likely being asked by some tourist the direction to one of the colleges. ‘You better put that cup of tea you’re making on hold.’ The monitoring TV cam had been pointed out to them by the Inspector before he had left. Telling them to make sure they are out of view of that camera's field of vision. The camera itself had a cable that ran through the wall to the outside, close to the door where the suspect could no doubt connect his laptop or some other device, should he want to monitor Jackie's movements or well-being. ‘What we'd better do.’ Said Jim's fellow officer who had a few years more seniority. Is firstly, for you to keep out the way of the viewing area of that TV camera thats hanging down from the ceiling. Should he suddenly decide to have a look before entering. Which won't be a problem, as it has only got a view of an empty bed. Probably thinking she's on the other side of the room, if he see's no one on the bed, he'll think she's in the shower or toilet maybe? So seeing you are a bigger bugger than me, and considering all that martial arts you do, with that funny Chinese name. Here's your chance to put it into action for real. You’ll stand by what would be the lock side of the door and I'll go alongside you. We'll have him in cuffs before he knows what day of the week it is.’ ‘Sounds good to me, makes a change from putting an arm lock on some drunken idiot, in one of Cambridge's less than salubrious drinking holes.’ ‘Right, shut your mouth. And our Inspector, or to be more correct, Senior Chief Inspector Coombes will be saying well done lads. I think you will agree, thats a lot better than our friendly desk Sergeant, who only ever seems to ask what have we been up to, and not exactly thanking us for hauling in some drunk, who is going to get a free nights accommodation. Go figure, no thanks for you there.’ With their uniform tops removed, and helmets sitting on top of their jackets they waited in silence, their wait was brief. The silence was broken as a key was inserted into the lock, and the door inched slowly open. Felix looking expectantly ahead, turning his head to his right where he supposed was the inert body of his prize. Except that it was a surprise that came with such force, that

prevented any cry or utterance, except the grunt of air being knocked out of him. As his neck was held in vice like tightness, by the strength of his assailant, followed by the snap of handcuffs which pinned his hands in place behind his back. Swung around, to be told he was under arrest for the unlawful detention of a person by the name of MissTrent. Felix barely understanding to what had happened, hardly hearing as if in a dream which quickly turned into a nightmare, as he was read his rights. Message understood, was also his signal on his mobile to pack up his fishing tackle. As he did so he was just about able to observe from the oblique view that he had from the opposite bank, the suspect putting his key into the door lock, and disappearing inside. By the time he had everything put away, and making his way back towards the bridge over the lock he eventually came opposite the building he had been observing for the last couple of hours, was where he stopped. There on the other bank of the river he was able to see the outcome of his part in the operation that had proved so successful. The suspect was now handcuffed to one of his fellow officers. Had he been nearer, the angler, come policeman, he would have seen a written look of disbelief on Felix Latimer’s ashen face. Coupled with one of complete confusion. As he was being marched down to the jetty, where a police launch had tied up alongside Latimer's, that would take him back in the opposite direction, that at one time he had hoped to go. To collect the other half of the bounty, and to off load the Trent girl. How had he got it so completely wrong? This was a question that he would be asking himself for a long time to come.

Chapter 33

Sue and Ted were both trying to relax without succeeding in the waiting area of the police station. Further conversation had petered out, after the farce that the inspector, together with his sergeant who had both unwittingly taken part in, and were totally unaware of what had actually happened. A brooding silence had now taken over, extinguishing even the smallest of small talk. This tension was broken into when the Inspector reappeared once more through the door that led to the internal workings of the place. This particular door had gained an intimidating image of its own. Leaning through the half open door, he beckoned to Sue. ‘Miss Jameson, if you would like to come this way, we can have a chat in my office where perhaps you can shed some light on recent events.’As Sue got up to follow the Inspector. Nodding his head to where Ted was left sitting alone, saying to Ted. ‘I’ll be with you soon.’ For Ted, never had such few words held so much disquiet, and to have such an ominous overtone, as he watched Sue disappear from view. Now left alone to deliberate as to what the future could possibly hold. Knowing on what was at first sight, that there was no indication of all the complexities that had now entangled them. Sue followed the inspector through the glass door of the inspector’s office ing all too well that previous occasion when her cousin was told that he was being held as a possible suspect for the murder of professor Toms. While finding it it was difficult to believe it was only less than a couple days ago that happened. It still with a modicum of uncertainty on how the immediate future was going to play out. Before any further thoughts could make themselves be known, were broken into by the inspector saying ‘Please take a seat Miss Jameson, can I offer you a coffee or tea?’ A glass of water would be good.’ Sue's eyes had been caught by an unappealing looking tea and coffee dispensing machine with its array of lights offering the unsuspecting, the undrinkable. ‘Thank you.’ The Inspector stood up from behind his desk, and walked over to his own personal water dispenser while saying, ‘I must it that when we met on

Saturday evening, which I believe was less than 24 hours ago, that this case would now be almost closed. Though I have to ask myself is it? What you have been able to do, is what the Cambridge police force could not. The outstanding question is how were you able to achieve this? I'll leave Mr Howeard out of this puzzle for the time being. Perhaps you can enlighten me on how you knew where Miss Trent was being held. I think that the best course of action would be for you to begin at the beginning. That is, when you first met Miss Trent.’ Sue looking directly at the inspector, leaned forward and picked up the glass of water, and took a sip. ‘Inspector what I'm about to tell you, you will find very difficult to accept, as I did.’ ‘Try me, Miss Jameson.’ Was the inspector’s immediate reply. Adding, ‘I’m more than intrigued.’ Sue knew that this question would not be long in coming. She had also been wondering, at what particular moment was this rather pertinent question was going to raise its awkward head. And was still not sure on how to answer it. It was somewhat of a surprise to her that this question had not been asked earlier. ‘On second thoughts Miss Jameson, I feel it would be more to the point if you told me how you, and your friend were aware that Miss Trent was inside this warehouse building. As I'm sure you understand, to say the least it’s more than a little hard for me on how you managed to accomplish that. When, all the resources of the Cambridge constabulary were unable to. But you were able to do just that. It would also seem, without too much difficulty on your part. I sure you can you understand my dilemma.’ Placing the glass slowly back on to the inspector's desk, that gained her a couple of precious extra seconds of time to frame in her mind which option to go for. The note under the door was one, that white lie she had thought of in the spur of the moment, when she had first mentioned it to Ted. Should this awkward question had been asked earlier. That answer, or the truth? The truth she knew would not be easy, and that the inspector would have difficulty in swallowing, let alone digesting that all too related fact. ‘Go on Miss Jameson, I'm listening.’ ‘We were in a coffee bar, I can't even its name. It’s just around the corner from a pub, I think it was called The Eagle that we were in earlier. We

had just come out of there. It was there we had arranged to go to this nearby coffee bar to meet up with a fellow student of Jackie's.’ ‘Yes, I know the one.’ ‘As we were...’ ‘Let me stop you there for one second, I think it would be a good idea if I record what you are about to tell me, if thats okay with you?’ ‘Not a problem.’ Retorted Sue. ‘Sorry.’ The inspector replied. ‘I believe you were saying, as we...’ ‘Maybe it would be a good idea if I start again at the very beginning, as you are going to record what I say.’ Said Sue helpfully.’ ‘Yes, that would certainly be helpful.’

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Here we go, all or nothing, she said to herself. Sue made the decision to go right the way back to the time when Jackie had come into the office’s of Cosmos, and to that lunch. Sue began to think that she was beginning to sound like one of the Inspector's police constables making a road accident report. But maybe it sounded better that way. At least it's factual she thought, taking another sip of water. The Inspector said nothing, apart from nodding his head occasionally, at the same time scribbling on a notepad. What Sue imagined were relative points in her narrative. Finally coming to what was she believed was the climax of what the Inspector must have thought was a bewildering story. ‘I guess it was the headscarf that prevented me from seeing the Jackie, that I'm so familiar with. Hesitating for a moment to what she was about to say. Knowing it would undoubtedly stretch the Inspector’s boundary of credence beyond belief.’ ‘What you're saying Miss Jameson, is that the girl you ed as you entered the cafe, was in fact... Miss Jacqueline Trent.’

‘Not exactly.’ ‘How do you mean, not exactly?’ Said the inspector clearly articulating his words. ‘Not at the door where I first noticed her, it was only when we sat down. As I said it was that headscarf that confused me. It all became suddenly all too apparent to me as to what had happened. My first thoughts was to rush after her, but I knew that would be useless. You will understand later, as to why.’ Telling the Inspector now that this person was an apparition of the real Jackie would not be understood by the Inspector who was more than sceptical at the best of times. Whose day to day workings dealt in hard facts, which was the very nature of police work. Sue knew she would loose any sympathy on that level. Apart from that, she had made a quick decision not to mention the computer incident for the same reason. ‘What surprised me next, for the time being was to forget about what had just happened. The chair where I was about to sit, there was a newspaper. I can never resist picking one up.’ The inspector nodded. ‘Go on.’ ‘Something was odd about this paper, at first I thought it was the low lighting. As I flipped it open expecting to see the headline that most newspapers tend to carry, you know something about the Middle East, or the like. Instead I was reading about a bombing raid on . I was expecting to read that the paper was writing about a terrorist bombing. Only when I glanced at the date, it was 1942. That was when I started to put two and two together. I felt that the girl that we had ed on our way in had left it there. I getting Ted, thats Ted Howeard my friend to take a look. Neither of us knew what to think. At first, neither of us noticed anything unusual with the newspaper apart from that date, due to the rather shadowy lighting. It was Ted who saw it. That something was scribbled near the Daily Express banner. I actually went to the ladies loo, where the lighting was bound to be better, to see if I could get some idea of what this feint brief scribble actually said. There, I saw in the top right-hand corner were the words, The Boat House. Returning to the table, telling Ted, to what was written. As it was getting late we decided to call it a day, and sleep on it. That was our decision for the time being. The only conclusion we came to at that time, was that this Boat House, was obviously on the river and perhaps the place to head for.’ Again, Sue decided not to mention the mysterious encounter of the old man back at the hotel. And the possibility of not being what he seemed.

Thinking there was more than enough of the incomprehensible. And certainly not as Sue had reminded herself once more at the time when she had first met up with the inspector at the warehouse that unexplainable incident she had witnessed, when the Boat House had materialised itself from the past. A couple of seconds of silence went by when Sue realised she had not mentioned that she still had that newspaper. Then going on to mention just that, that the newspaper in question was still in her possession back at the hotel. At Sue’s further mentioning of the mysterious newspaper, a look of quizzical disbelief was forming on the Inspectors face. With niggling uncertainty he appeared to bite his lower lip, as if to stop himself uttering some words to bolster his own disbelief. Instead he picked up his phone pressing one of the buttons. ‘Sergeant, I would like you to go to the interview room where you thought you had put the Trent woman. And if you find anything in there whatsoever, bring it to me.’ When the inspector heard Sue again repeat the word newspaper. The door of the empty interview room, clicked an image of something in his mind. The room was empty, or was it? Or did he have a subconscious image that there was in fact a newspaper on the interview room table. He was already beginning to chastise himself for having such a ridiculous thought, that there could be another newspaper from the past. It was an uneasy sensation that was beginning to envelop him. Having that same feeling of foreboding he had in the car on their return. As he looked across his desk at this person whose story he was trying to make sense of, at the same time there was undoubtedly a truthfulness to her story. Further speculation ceased, when the Sergeant tapped on the door, and walked in holding a newspaper. Sue quickly noticed that it had a close similarity to the one that she had picked up the previous evening at the coffee bar. If there was a time to keep silent, it was now. Sue was almost holding her breath as she watched the Inspector take the paper from the Sergeant, telling him that would be all. Carefully laying the newspaper on his desk, while smoothing his hand across the front page, before picking it up, and holding the top right hand corner closer to his eyes. Sue's eyes were fixed on the Inspectors face, knowing that a look of total disbelief would soon manifest itself. Sue knew that the Inspector's life, like her own was governed by trying to find the hard truth. They say that the truth can hurt, which was why she could only but sympathise for what the Inspector was trying to come to with. Sue was able to perceive the Inspector's lips move, breathing the words, “The Boathouse.”

A few seconds ed in a reticence of silence as the Inspector tried to gather his thoughts together. ‘Miss Jameson... I'm a little at a loss as to what to say. I'm sure you know that like yourself, I'm also finding it difficult to come to with what I have just read, and that was not about World War II.’ ‘What can I tell you inspector?’ ‘I wish I knew. I imagined you made an intelligent guess that this Boat House place was in Cambridge, and of course on the river. How did you actually find its location?’ This state of affairs, was not about to get any better, realised Sue... ‘Inspector maybe this is a good time to suspend your world of hard facts, and to seriously begin to understand that another reality might well exist.’ ‘Another reality Miss Jameson? A few minutes ago I might as well have thought that you were talking utter and absolute rubbish. For the moment I'm listening, having seen with my own eyes the same evidence of this Boat House place as yourself, i.e. That newspaper... I can't deny it. Who helped you to find where it was located?’ Sue hesitating, knowing earlier that it was not a good idea to expand on that part of the story. And simply said, ‘An old man in the guesthouse where I'm staying.’ Knowing that trying to explain that this person more than likely occupied the same dimension as Jackie's look alike. At the same time ing what Ted had said concerning the old man, better to think of him as real, just a real old man. To think anything else would've been just too much. Not only that it would have been expecting too much for someone who'd only seconds ago, had his life long beliefs put on hold, as well as any remaining of what he has once thought of as a reality. The Inspector might well have to try and rearrange in his mind to the experience that he was going through, that was not dissimilar to what she had to come to with earlier on. Sue knew that the Inspector was having some difficulty to the possibility in trying to accept these facts. But at the same time slowly slithering further away from that unwelcome actuality. To the unacceptable notion, together with the possibility of a parallel world. What ever way the Inspector saw it. Sue was quite sure that such an idea would never be entertained. As the more logical side of his mind took over and ruled out any such concept.

Inspector Combs, nodded his head at Sue's explanation, and said, ‘I feel sure that you understand that I can't write any of this into my report. Paranormal evidence! I feel without question, it would raise a few eyebrows, plus hackles wouldn't you say?’ ‘Inspector, I absolutely understand your predicament. Earlier on I was going to say that someone had slipped a note under my bedroom door at the guesthouse where I'm staying. I thought that suggestion would be easier for you to come to with. If that idea is of any help, I'll be happy to go along with just that. As you know I was once a journalist. And I know only too well that anything of this nature transpires. The newspapers would have, as they say, a field day. If you can imagine the likely headlines. “VICARS DAUGHTER HAS A DOUBLE GANGER maintains Cambridge’s Chief Inspector.” I don't have to assure you on that truth. I'm sure you know only too well yourself, the route that the tabloids would be more than happy to take. And you can be sure they will use the English version of doppelgänger, not the correct German one. For maximum impact.’ The inspector leaned back in his chair, gazing at the ceiling. Knowing that the explanation of the appearance of this...imagined Trent girl was perhaps true, a truth he did not like to confront nor recognise. This was a fact that could not be easily cast aside. It tied in all too well with what his sergeant had believed, was the girl on the wanted poster. Looking at Sue as he leaned forward, said cautiously.‘Whatever I might think to the contrary, it seems I have little choice but to agree with you at the moment. I think it’s best that we call it a day for now. Needless to say that this, what shall I say, occurrence, for want of a better word should be kept confidential. Agree?’ Sue nodded in agreement. ‘I’ll you tomorrow, I have your mobile number.’ Said the inspector, once more casting his eyes over the newspaper, still uneasy to what he was trying to come to with, let alone agreed to.’ Sue left behind a thoughtful, and a thoroughly worried Chief Inspector. Looking in vacant disbelief at the newspaper laying on his desk once more. Trying to convince himself that this was the twenty-first century. And that he was not someone who had somehow stepped back some seventy odd years into the past. At the same time trying to put some distance to all this, that it was not actually

happening. At the same time the one piece of physical evidence that he had, was the newspaper. That blocked any further kind of thought in that direction. He was not about to put it in a plastic evidence bag, and have it presented at court. As he carefully took hold of the paper, folding the newspaper up, and putting it in his desk drawer, and making sure the drawer was safely locked. It would remain in his personal collection of memorabilia, to be meditated over many safe years from now. Ted who was still trying to put all the past mystifying incidences into some kind of order, just to keep his mind occupied as he sat in the starkness of the Police Station and what his version of these recent events might be, when it came to his turn to be questioned by the Inspector. He was somewhat surprised when it was Sue who appeared once more from the door that she had entered earlier, rather than some policeman asking him to come this way. Now looking a lot more relaxed and happy than she had looked some sixty minutes or so ago, when she was about to face the Inspector's questions. Ted was on his feet, before managing to utter the words, ‘what happened?’ To which Sue replied. ‘Lets get out of here, I'll tell all as soon as I'm able to think straight,’ as Ted held open the door for Sue, and out into the calmer atmosphere of the world outside the Police Station. ‘Ok, try and relax,’ said Ted, taking hold of Sue's arm, while walking in the direction of where he had parked the car. On reaching the car, Sue said as she got in. ‘You know what?’ But before Ted could answer, Sue went on. ‘A real drink, and you know where? And going on to answer her own question. The Anchor, where all this nonsense more or less started. Let’s go.’ ‘What could be better,’ said Ted as they drove off. Deciding that this was not the time nor place to say anything further, but it did not take long for him to imagine when he had a cool draught of beer in front of him.

Chapter 34

It was Monday morning as they were finishing a late breakfast when Sue's mobile warbled into life. ‘Good morning Inspector.’ ‘Good morning to you Miss Jameson. Some good news for you. The charge of murder against your friend Miss Trent has been dropped of course. And her abductor, has been charged with the murder of Miss Trent's tutor, professor Toms, plus the charge of abduction. He was apprehended some two hours later, at that place you call the Boat House. According to my officers, they had never seen such a look of shock on a face of a person they were about to arrest. He put up no resistance what so ever. Caught red handed, though that hardly describes what happened. He goes by the name of Felix Latimer.’ ‘That is good news. How is Jackie ? ... Miss Trent.’ ‘I think relief would be the appropriate reply. Your friend asked if you would be good enough to pick her up from here. Miss Trent has agreed to try and answer some of my questions that she might possibly have an answer to, which is going to be very little I'm afraid. As to our. Or... may I use the word conversation, than the less friendly word, interview?’ ‘Of course, I think mutual understanding, as I’m sure you’re of the same mind will undoubtably go a long way in these perplexing circumstances.’ ‘In other words Miss Jameson, and off the record as you can appreciate is this, that Miss Trent as she said earlier, has had no recollection what so ever as to what had happened, until she found herself in Latimer's warehouse. This is what I shall write in my report. The part that explains on how we located her, as we agreed yesterday was due to a note that was slipped under your door, at the guest house where you were staying put there by a person, or persons unknown eventually leading to her freedom and ultimately to the arrest of Felix Latimer. What is important is that we have professor Toms murderer, and Miss Trent's abductor in custody. Now we can say case closed, at least until his trial. I'll be happy to answer any questions that you might have when you get here to pick-up Miss Trent.’

‘We will be over directly.’ ‘And thank you Miss Jameson.’ As the inspector ended his call, Sue looked across at Ted as he was about to bite on a slice of toast thickly covered in marmalade, only to put the toast back on the plate, to say. ‘What I gather from that conversation is that Jackie is free, and we're about to go and pick her up.’ ‘That's roughly it,’ said Sue as she put her mobile back in her jacket pocket. ‘I don't know what your thoughts might be as to what has happened since Saturday night. But I've been thinking, what do we tell Jackie? Telling her that she has a double who conveniently leaves 1942 newspapers around, is not exactly going to be any help to her. Also not forgetting when her likeness turned up in Scotland. Let alone my digital image of her on the computer screen, and while we’re at it, together with that coffee bar encounter. While not overlooking what the desk sergeant experienced. Considering that we ourselves cannot remotely grasp why these events or how they even came about. To say nothing would be best, as far as all that goes. To even try and attempt an explanation even to the most rational of people, the only thing you could be sure of that it would certainly be beyond anybody's comprehension. And would be of little help to Jackie, Considering what she has gone through especially over the last few days.’ ‘I couldn't agree more with you. By the way, how did you explain finding Jackie? I know you mentioned it at the Anchor, but it’s all become a bit of a blur after those few drinks we managed to get down ourselves. There is one other small thing that just happens to cross my mind. What are you going to tell, whats his name, that boss of yours?’ Ted said, trying to recall his name. ‘Mike you mean, I must say that I have not given it too much in the way of thought. Mike is so wrapped up in his own world, that even to what he's likely to read in the newspaper, it won't have crossed his mind that it has anything to do with me in anyway. And when I'm called as a witness, as no doubt you will be as well. So I guess I'm not so sure at this moment in time, on how I'll handle that hurdle. I'll put a little more thought about that, when that day gets a little closer. I’ll tell you in the car, what I said to the inspector, on how we managed to find Jackie. As we are a bit more clear headed now. I'm sure you will understand and agree, as to the arrangement I came to with the Inspector. Which he was only too happy to go along with.’

‘Can't wait let's go,’ said Ted picking up what remained of his toast, to eat while walking from the hotel to the car. As they got underway, Ted said, while wiping away the last vestige of marmalade from around his mouth. ‘Tell me more, I’m more than a little intrigued, regarding your conversation with the inspector, seeing you've had time to sleep on these past happenings. And even perhaps to get fresh perspective, if that at all possible Sue trying to gather her thoughts together went on to relate in more detail the conversation she had had with the Inspector, than what she had managed to fleetingly tell Ted over dinner and possibly one drink too many, during the previous evening at “The Anchor.” ‘You must have left behind a very mystified and baffled Inspector.’ Said a pensive looking Ted. ‘Thats for sure. And I guess that goes for me too, as far as Jackie is concerned. I think tea and sympathy is the tact we take to bring Jackie back into the normal world, and certainly as we agreed no mention of this other reality. If that is the right word. It was all a bit much for me to grasp, let alone to make any sense of our unreal experiences, whatsoever. Apart from anything else should you try to explain our inexplicable happenings, my feeling is that it would be more than most people could swallow.’ ‘I hate to think what this inspector must've been thinking at the time. My only guess was how on earth did the paranormal manage to creep into his very ordered life.’ ‘Precisely,’ said Sue. ‘I know one thing for sure. I've come to the conclusion as far as luck is concerned. This thing that people call luck, or if you like intuition. Someone out there, knew that the information that Jackie could possibly give to the world at some future date could be in jeopardy. And for reasons unknown, picked on me as a conduit, as you said. I had this empathy of understanding for what was going on. And like I said, why me? Which is exactly what Jackie had also said, at that lunch when all this started.’ But maybe we are all a conduit for information, and there's no such thing as luck. It's not so much of keeping our eyes open, but our minds too. Or is that all too much to ponder on so soon after breakfast?’ Smiled Ted. ‘Whatever.’ said Sue. ‘What is for sure, while we might well try ourselves to

make some sense of what we have experienced. But don't expect to get too much sympathy, should you ever relate these experiences to anyone else. Because all they are going to do, is to give you a rather patronising smile, and nod their heads and say. “Yes of course you did.” ‘I guess that unfortunately what you say, is only too true. But I can't stop myself thinking about this question of luck. I've gone back in my mind, as far back as I can , and all those so-called lucky breaks we've all had at some time or other. You might well say, I was in the right place at the right time. Or was it just coincidence. Perhaps we’re all dismissing luck a little too lightly. As I said just now, there is no such thing as luck. And some say, that certain people always seem lucky. I myself would say now, that their minds are more open than average.’ ‘Yes, I'll go along with that little bit of philosophising.’ And gave Ted a kiss. ‘What about people who say they have a guardian angel?’ ‘I think I'll let you be my guardian angel, if that's okay with you.’ Giving Sue a quick kiss in return, while trying to keep his other eye on the road. ‘Guardian angel? I like the idea, and what I've experienced in these recent weeks or so, has certainly opened my mind to that possible direction. What I'm beginning to understand is that if you allow yourself to believe in that possibility, you will have a more relaxed view of life, if the thought of a guardian angel is a bit too much to comprehend, maybe just believe in your subconscious a little more.’ ‘You could well be right,’ said Ted. ‘Hindsight always seems to tell you where you went wrong. I can think of more than one occasion when I've said to myself, I knew I was right in the first place. If only I had listened to my subconscious, or as you say, your guardian angel. One other thing I've been meaning to ask you is this. I know James is your cousin, but what's your take on that thesis of his? You gave me more or less a broad out line as to what he was on about.’ ‘His thesis you say? Well I guess he's got something going for it. It certainly goes against the grain of anything that the scientific world would have you believe. Only the other day I saw mentioned in some news paper that the ingredients of life, could have possibly come from a comet. So it would seem

that the scientific world or whatever you like to call it, will go to any lengths to say that life as we know it, aren’t about to say any time soon, that we arrived here from outer space, or somewhere out there. I'm going along with James point of view. You could say that it puts somewhat of a fresh perspective on what the scientific community would like us to believe. What particularly stuck in my mind was James's notion, that we have no more of an idea of what's happening in space, as to what goldfish have of another pond. Not only that, the more I think about what James is saying, it starts to lead your thoughts down on to untrodden paths. But as James pointed out very clearly that the earth was certainly sterile, and that’s one truly logical fact that cannot be denied, Mr Darwin.’ ‘Untrodden paths. I hear you say, tell me more I'm not too sure to where you are going with this little digression.’ ‘I don't suppose you are.’ Said Sue, with something of a far away expression. ‘It's just this, what some might well say that I'm expressing utter rubbish. But am I? If someone or whoever has managed to put this world together as we see it. Not only the physical side, but are also able to manipulate our minds in ways which are far beyond our comprehension. What you’ve got to , and I suppose I'm thinking in a logical way their intelligence is light years from anything that we can imagine. If you give some thought to what I can only surmise concerning people with such a high IQ’s or to a person who we would call a genius, could they actually have a very similar genes to what I've been ruminating on about, I suppose. Possibly direct descendants. Or if you like similar to what Jackie experienced in her dreams. So there you are, make what you like of my rather bizarre thoughts. Apart from all that there is just one more thing, a word that perhaps we take all too lightly. ‘And dare I asked what that word might be? And no doubt you are about to enlighten me.’ ‘Seeing that you are asking, the word is coincidence, as I made a ing remark about that very word just a moment ago, innocent enough you might well say. But if you think about it, coincidence... Is it just coincidence? When you start looking at the odds, perhaps something that has happened to yourself. Maybe too close to be a mere coincidence. As I could not get this subject out of my mind, I did what most people tend to do. Find out more on the Internet, so I did. I typed in “Famous coincidences” there was more than enough to read. I was astounded

by the amount of material, certainly more than enough for anyone to perhaps rethink that there is more to coincidence than what you might have once believed. To take this one step further I'm beginning to come to the conclusion that there is no such thing as luck. Only coincidence. Think of it this way, when someone wins the lottery, was it perhaps a coincidence that they got the numbers that were drawn. Not luck. ‘I find myself agreeing with you,’ said a rather quizzical Ted. ‘What you are on about, jogs my memory. A few years back I was in New York, a friend of mine suggested that we go rollerskating in Central Park. To cut a long story short, my friend fell over and broke his arm. An ambulance was called, the ambulance assistant said to me in conversation on the way to the hospital, that he had an acquaintance in London and did I know him. I immediately thought that it was a bit of a silly question, seeing that London has a population of something like 10 million or more. Anyhow he mentioned the persons name, and much to my complete amazement, I did know this person, he lived right next door to me! I guess you are beginning to understand what I'm getting at. Only the other day I was in my parked car, when another car parked in front of me. Nothing strange about that you would say. Except that the colour of this car was in an unusual colour of orange, when a woman walk ed holding up an umbrella. That was absolutely the same shade of orange. Just a coincidence of course. But thinking back why would such an insignificant moment take on such significance. I had an uncanny feeling that something was trying to taunt me. Which brings me back to this pertinent question, there's a lot more to coincidence than what you might well think. Preordained you might even conclude. Should you think that I'm beginning to talk a load of nonsense, I suggest that it might be a good idea for you to go on the Internet as I did, and type in that web site. If nothing else you might have to do a quick rethink of whatever you might have thought once before, when it comes to the subject of a coincidence. You won't be disappointed. ‘I can understand in away why you have come to that conclusion. And I will certainly checkout coincidence on the internet.’ Was Teds hesitant reply. ‘If you think about it, it's not so distant from asking someone if they believe in ghosts. For all the interest that might be shown, it would probably be no more than total indifference. You could most likely go even further, that life itself is paranormal. If that is not stretching things a little too far’ Said a thoughtful looking Ted. Who was still trying to digest Sue’s somewhat incongruous revelations.

‘How do you make that one out?’ Asked a doubtful looking Sue. ‘Well think about it. We all have this feeling that we are immortal, but we all know that without any question, as far as our bodies are concerned, that we are not. Though some might vehemently deny it, should we be subconsciously talking about our spirits which brings us very neatly, to all those people who claim to have seen ghosts, or whatever. And if you I said to you not so long ago that if say more than six or so people have witnessed the same phenomena surely that in itself, we can justify that the spirit does in fact exist. Or if you like think of it this way. I know this is a rather simple analogy, a car without a driver is a lifeless object until the driver gets in, so here you could well substitute the word driver for spirit. And when your car has done more than enough miles, or in our own case years, we decide that it's about time we had a new body. Or to get even more basic. Think of anything that needs electricity, without it nothing happens, but plug it in, and this invisible force make’s it come to life. The one conclusion that I have to come to with, mainly because of what has happened to you and what you have experienced. There’s certainly a lot of things going on in this world, that we are for the most part totally unaware of.’ Ted suddenly looking a little self conscience said, ‘I guess I better stop any further theories of mine, or I’m going to give your cousin a run for his money.’ ‘That's pretty deep of you Ted.’ ‘I do occasionally have those moments of insight.’ Grinned a somewhat embarrassed Ted. ‘Well I’ll go on to say, that about sums it all up, I certainly don't want you to go any deeper, or I might lose you altogether. Tell you what Ted, any further discussion should be done over lunch, or dinner and a good bottle of wine, how does that sound?’ ‘Sounds good to me, not only that it makes very good down to earth sense, and what’s more here's the Police Station.’

Chapter 35

Summer was ending and the first episode. “This Other World the Paranormal.” As the programme had been named, would be going on air during the first week of October. Through out the month of September a promo promoting the series that featured the strange story of Mr Simpson and the reappearing bombed house. A voice over would be heard, while a black and white picture of the house, would slowly become apparent, and gradually fading into a greying mist from which Mr Simpson would gradually emerge. Looking straight into the camera, he related the strange occurrence that he had experienced. Giving a brief outline of the story to the viewer. Mike had been more than happy on how the first instalment had turned out. Mr Simpson had come across as an excellent storyteller, with his rich Scottish brogue adding authenticity to the promos presentation. More importantly to the programme, was that the rs had been intrigued enough to start buying space for the commercial breaks. Which were certainly an important factor for the continuing employment of the creative team that had helped to make the sceptical public have a better understanding of the paranormal. Though generally they did not want to believe, but at the same time a dent was put into the viewer scepticism. While the events they were about to see and hear, could not be explained, only to leave behind the uncomfortable seeds of doubt. What was understood, it certainly held a lasting fascination for the viewer. But as far as Mike was concerned, the proof of the pudding was in the viewing figures. Which had claimed top spot for the autumn. Around the time of the programme promos were being shown, the trial of Felix Latimer took place. For Sue, from the time of the arrest of Latimer, it had been one of reflection. Jackie, much to Sue’s surprise had proved remarkably resolute, considering the frightening circumstances she had been put through. Though Sue was of the opinion, as she later remarked to Ted that her strength might had something to do with, “True Romance.” That seemed to be taking place between her and James. Latimer had been bound over by the Cambridge magistracy to stand trial at the Cambridge Crown Court. It was here that Ted and Sue had been summoned to

appear for the prosecution, as had Jackie being the main witness. When Latimer was led into the court he stood in the dock conservatively dressed in a dark grey suit, rather than that black leather jacket worn for the magistrates hearing. He had pleaded not guilty, also saying he would represent himself, such was his conceit. When Latimer was arrested, it had grabbed the attention of the national newspapers. It was a crime which newspaper editors knew would have a mass appeal to the general public. And would sell their product in great numbers, it was not every day that an undergraduate was kidnapped and her tutor murdered. Inspector Coombes ed only too well when his face first appeared on the front of one of the national tabloids. Ever mindful of Susan Jameson's warning on how little choice he had, she was so right. It was a strange experience for him, that he was about to present evidence in court on how the Trent girl was freed. He was only too aware that it was bordering on perjury, that he was about to perpetrate. But what alternative did he have? He reminded himself on reflection, knowing only too well what would have happened if he had done otherwise. To stand up in the witness box, and give the untarnished truth? Together with the newspaper headlines that would have appeared. It was this nightmare that had been so graphically explained to him, when he had that euphemism of a conversation with the Jameson woman. Even now, it made him break out in a cold sweat. No doubt the chief constable would have been asking for his early retirement or worse still, for him to resign. The first mention of anything in the way of the paranormal given as evidence, and the judge would more than likely have stopped the trial, and Latimer would have walked. The trial opened with the prosecution first giving evidence. The most damaging was Latimer's blood soaked sweater, and blood spattered suede shoes that matched Toms blood, where these items were conveniently found on his launch. Latimer in his arrogance was thinking he had committed the perfect crime and would never be apprehended, having failed to throw away such incriminating evidence. Hoping at a later date to perhaps restore them to their original pristine look. He could not help but think how ironic it was, when he ed remarking to Toms, how the researchers of DNA had used that very pub, that they were sitting in at the time, discussing the abduction of the Trent girl. That, together with the room he had built to imprison his victim, and no doubt any future victims. Latimer could not stand so much public humiliation when he realised the amount of evidence that was stacked up against him, quickly changing his plea to guilty. The judge without delay sentenced him to no less than twenty five years. As he was led away Felix Latimer looked up towards the public gallery, where he saw a woman sitting there. Her face framed in a headscarf, staring directly at him. He turned his head away, but was drawn back to look again. But there was no one.

With Latimer deciding that changing his plea to that of guilty. Sue thinking that this was most likely a good thing, with the newspapers immediately losing most of their initial interest in the trial, making it all the less likely that any embarrassing questions that might well be asked of her later. With the lack of any glaring newspaper headlines.

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Jackie's romance with James continued to flourish with frequent commuting trips from their Oxbridge universities. The dreams of mathematical knowledge had ceased, maybe there's only so much information that the human brain could handle at one time. While perhaps in a decade or two, the baton of knowledge would be handed over to another person with suitable brain capacity to spare. Once again to surprise the world with their insight. Jackie's dreams were now more than often of boating on the Cam, on lazy warm summer days. And having drinks at a place she thought was called the “Boat House.” Until her alarm clock fragmented her dreams into oblivion. At around that time Cosmos TV Productions held a cocktail party for the rs and the advertising agencies, to show what a good platform the paranormal was to place their advertising budgets. Sue like Mike was in a throng of advertising executives, Mike catching Sue’s eye, and making their excuses, extradited themselves from the would-be sponsors. With a wine glass in hand managing to connect up with Sue. Clinking Sue’s wine glass with his own, with a grin on his face that might have been associated with having more than one or two glasses of his favourite beverage, went on to say. ‘Could I be right to assume that the person who I once had a brief telephone conversation with at that time when you had felt unwell. Would I now be right in saying that this individual.’ As Mike was so delicately phrasing it, ‘this bloke now an item?’ To which Sue had replied with unlikely coyness, ‘I suppose you could say that.’ With Mike replying this time not so delicately, by remarking that had he not ed on to this acquaintance, her home phone number, it might not have ever had happened? And that she owed him a drink at the “French” while adding,

perhaps a programme on the word “IF” might be appropriate. Sue eventually did get around to buying Mike his drink accompanied on this occasion by Jackie. When Sue introduced Jackie to Jim of Mac fame, the penny failed to drop, to connect this Jackie, minus the headscarf with his computer screen fantasy. With the trial of Felix Latimer now over and autumn fast approaching. Sue had given herself a present of a 45 inch flat screen TV to watch the first showing of, “This Other World the Paranormal.” Ted sat with Sue on the sofa each with a glass of wine in hand. Ted went on to remark, while abstractly looking at the TV, as the credits of another programme came up. ‘What are your thoughts now, looking back on what we have, and especially you, have witnessed? Though for you, not only witnessed, but became an intrinsic part of.’ ‘What are my thoughts you say? I keep asking myself that same question. No easy answer. Though you would think that there is. But trying to bring it all into context, you feel if you want some kind of solid base to begin with. Only this, that I find it quite odd that something like established religions, seem to prefer to keep some distance between themselves and the paranormal. As if for some reason they don't want to become involved. Maybe they see it as some kind of competition. Yet one might well think, that it would be right up their street. After all the majority of people involved in religion in the first place, whatever a person's persuasion, is that they are all told almost without fail that there is a, “here after.” Without any concrete proof, all a little on the flimsy side. So what I'm getting at, is this. There is, and I think you agree with me on this point. When there is a reasonable amount of evidence of an apparitions, or whatever you care to call them. To my mind, that shows that there is life or some kind of activity after death,. After all, I couldn't have been closer, even yourself would not deny that you have not been influenced, and I would go on to say that you are not the die hard sceptics you were originally.’ ‘And why might that be, apart from what you have just said’? Enquired Ted as he stretched out to pick up his wine. ‘It's not something, to be completely honest that I’ve given a great deal of thought, until recently.’ ‘And that rather sounds, as if something has changed your mind, if I’m correct? That leaves me wondering exactly what.’ Ted questioned with raised eye brows

‘Well I suppose it gives me something to think about. If nothing else. I happened to turn on my TV the other day, to watch something or other. Only to find myself looking at the BBC “Hard Talk” programme. What I saw was this rather oldish man being interviewed on various subjects. I think he was over 100 years old. Anyhow when the interviewer turned to the subject of religion. It was at that point he got my attention, because he was thinking along the same lines as I have been for a long time.’ ‘And what were they? Do you the name of this person?’ ‘Yes,’ Sue replied, ‘his name stuck in my mind, he was called Sir Nicholas Winton. Anyhow this man who was in fact Jewish, and had converted to Christianity. He had also given that up too.’ ‘Why was that?’ ‘He had gone on to say that when he was a younger man during the Second World War, each side was praying to God for victory. Going on to say, how could that make any sense. When you come to think about it, he was right.’ ‘I would go along with that assumption as well.’ Was Teds immediate reply. ‘So what was his belief?’ ‘Quite simple really, and this was when I really agreed with him. Ethics, or if you like ethical thinking, or in a nutshell, do good. As you know the opposite of ethical is unethical. Or perhaps in stronger , evil. He went on to say if the whole world believed in ethics, there would be no problems. And you don't have to be some kind of genius to see that the larger part of the world is certainly unethical. Part from that, it got me thinking. When some people say, how can you believe in God when so many terrible things happen in the world. I came to the conclusion that unfortunately evil and good go together as one force, that can only be separated by our belief and perhaps conscience, that good will eventually triumph. Funny enough I was recently reading that Britain was considered the most unreligious country in the world, which actually fits in very well with what Sir Nicholas Winton was expressing. In my opinion the British are already very ethical in their way of life, something we should be proud of, where religions are often the cause of conflict.’ ‘I can only conclude without going into some kind of philosophical thinking too, there's no immediate answer to that. You cannot be more correct, so what

are you going to do, start a new religion called the Religion of Ethics? Said Ted with a grin on his face. ‘You could do worse I suppose, but joking aside it was certainly good thinking. My feeling apart from what I've just mentioned, is that religion is man-made, and is more of a power struggle as to what religion is top dog. Where their dogma is twisted to suit their own purpose, and to exert control. For myself your ratings in your next incarnation, depends on how you have behaved during this lifetime, if that is what you believe. But thats another story, I still can't give you an answer I only wish I could. Even after what we’ve been a part of. But at the same time I wouldn’t call myself an atheist or if you like an agnostic. To do that it would be almost like creating yet another religion.’ Ted who seemed to be only half following Sue’s deliberations, opened his mouth as if to speak and for a few seconds looked thoughtful, then slowly said, ‘like yourself not my thing either, and to be quite honest never given it much in the way of an opinion or conviction one way or the other, nor as far as I can have had any kind of conversation on that subject. I get the feeling now you are about to redress my lack of knowledge and make amends to my lack of awareness in that direction.’ ‘Not quite that,’ said Sue with what could only be called an enigmatic smile, ‘just some random contemplations.’ Okay, I promise you have now got my full attention. Go on.’ ‘It would seem that you can be an atheist yet have some constructive ideas on the paranormal. After all there is quite a bit of legitimate evidence concerning the paranormal , or other related phenomena. I would say in this day and age it’s pretty difficult to deny. Which is more than you can say about religion. But at the same time I can't help to be totally immune to the idea that there is someone out there who is in control. And why does religious belief exercise such an influence to so many people worldwide? The only answer to that if you think about it, that from a very early age we are taught and conditioned about religion, whatever variety you're taught to believe in. What would happen if this did not occur? This is what I feel what Sir Nicholas Winton was getting at. He had a very simple answer, ethics or in other words be helpful to each other. Exactly what Jesus and his competitors were saying, but nobody took any notice. The message wasn't go out and form some religious club. This was totally ignored and, to my

mind becomes the breeding ground of religious fanaticism. And should you make the mistake on mentioning that you were an atheist in some countries they will certainly try and have you killed. Not very ethical I would say.’ ‘Well, that’s quite an answer. And I guess what you have been saying reflects my own view. But I don't think the world, especially the religious variety is going to be in any particular rush to agree with you. Anyhow here's to all the sceptics out there.’ Clinking his wine glass with Sue's. ‘May they all gain perception, or whatever.’ ‘Oh before I forget, I've been meaning to tell you, but it slipped my mind, until now. And I think you will agree that the possible connotations at least for us, are all too true.’ ‘And what might that be,’ said a more than inquisitive Ted. ‘Just this, I was speaking to Jackie, only the other day, she is now back at Cambridge for the winter term. Anyhow she went on to say, that when she got back to her room or study, or whatever you care to call it, after the summer break. She said that when she opened the door there was a fragrance or smell or what possibly could have been aftershave mixed with the smell of pipe tobacco. Going on to say, that it was the same smell that reminded her, when she first entered professor Toms study earlier this year. Jackie thought for a moment that Toms was actually in the room.’ ‘Perhaps it was Tom's way of saying,’ remarked Ted, ‘of letting you know that he is still around, maybe even trying to apologise, possibly for what he had been responsible for.’ ‘A nice thought, if nothing else it certainly makes you think. It reminded me of the story I mention to you, of when Mike my boss told me about the magazine on the park bench, if you .’ ‘Well it certainly puts another hole in my doubt, as far as the paranormal is concerned, yet something else that is difficult to deny. Or even come to with.’ Reflected a thoughtful Ted.

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Though Sue had seen the final cut of the programme more times than she cared to , it did not take away any of the pleasure of seeing it yet again. Sue snuggled-up closer to Ted as she braced herself for tonights premier. She even felt a tinge of nervousness, however excitement took over as the programme got ever nearer. As were countless millions around the country who were glued to their TV's. Seeing the show for the first time, and wondering what Mr Simpson, who they had got to know so well from the stations promos, was about to tell them. A world that so few of the viewers had ever encountered, or had they? ‘Five more minutes.’ Ted said, giving Sue a tight squeeze as he shared her excitement. Time had flown by from the programmes opening, with Mr Simpson telling the viewers of his chilling experiences on that night, and the final roll of the credits, that Ted was still watching. When Sue said, ‘well thats it, whats your input on that?’ Now feeling visibly more relaxed. Ted took a further sip from his wineglass. ‘Great! Icing on the cake from my point of view. No longer can I remain a complete sceptic, and certainly marvellous entertainment.’ Ted had suddenly realised that he did not have Sue's full attention anymore. She was once again looking at the TV, that was now showing the evenings news. Even before looking at the TV, he heard the news readers voice. “In todays breaking news. Convicted murderer and kidnapper Felix Latimer has escaped from prison. It is believed that he managed to put a prison officer into a hypnotic state, and walked out of the maximum security prison, in the officers uniform. He is to be regarded as extremely dangerous.” The colour had drained from Sue's face. She slowly turned her head to Ted saying, ‘Felix Latimer is on the loose. Now what?’

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Author’s notes

The character of Mike Stratton, and the magazine that he had found on the park bench, actually happened to myself. I've only changed on how the magazine was found, it contained a double page ment that I'd been working on, together with the creative director of this ad. He had meanwhile died. Yes, he did like his wine and his cigarettes a little too much. Was this just a coincidence? Or was it his way of telling me that he was in fact still around. As for the story of rollerskating in New York, plus the orange car that was also experienced by me. The dogs, or to be more correct, the barking dogs belonged to friends of mine, they had a gardener who died. What happened is what you have read in the book. The framed photograph of John Lennon, taken by Robert Freeman, that was hanging on a wall of his studio. Told me about the time of Lennon’s murder, it fell to the floor. Another coincidence? The departmental store in Hong Kong, and the marching squad of Japanese soldiers that marched through the store, were observed by shoppers and shop assistants alike. This was widely reported in a Hong Kong Newspaper at the time. The “Sign of the Angel” Inn is located in the village of Lacock, which is in the South West of England. You yourself can make a visit, should you be interested. Who knows, you might even get to see their ghost. You might also like take a look at the YouTube video, of Lacock's church yard ghost. The bridge over the River Medway can also be checked out on the Internet. As pointed out by one of my other character’s Sue Jameson. The warehouse building metamorphosing into the Boat House, at the same time not forgetting the reappearing bombed house are of course fictional. But this does not mean it’s not possible. The same could be said for the computer image that confronted Sue Jameson, photographs have been seen where a person who should not have been there inexplicably appears. One story that happened in 1935 to Air Marshal Sir Victor Goddard of the British Royal Air Force is

certainly worth a look, with a little exploring on Google. Another Time slip story to wet your appetite is to take a trip on the Internet to Bold Street, Liverpool. Will also make interesting reading. As will other stories concerning “Time slip.” The most difficult paranormal experience to deny that I mentioned earlier on in my story, is the Enfield poltergeist. Should you be more curious there is a book, “This House Is Haunted”: The Investigation Of The Enfield Poltergeist. By Guy Playfair. And of course there is the Internet, that will certainly tell you more. As one of my other characters in the book pointed out, that if an apparition is perhaps seen, say by more than half a dozen people over a period time, I think it's reasonable to assume that something rather strange is going on. The Mobile phone mentioned in chapter 2 was the Huawei P30 Pro. “Campaign magazine” is the trade paper of the world of advertising. The story of Sir Nicholas Winton. You can see his interview on the BBC’s “Hard Talk.” Programme. In chapter 14 Ted mentions his father, who was a wrestler back in the late 1950s called the “Black Butcher.” This character is true, he was the father of a late good friend of mine. Finally a word about my other character Felix Latimer. Post hypnotic suggestion can happen to you, without you being aware of what's happening, you do not need someone saying, “look into my eyes.” Beware. The women that I mentioned was robbed in such a manner, also the episode of the London taxi driver in Chapter 13 are authentic. While I have tried to keep the geographical location as accurate as possible, please bear with me if I have not always been totally accurate. As for the "French Pub" it’s a pub more devoted to the drinkers of wine, since the virus struck you can now get a pint of beer instead of the once only halves.This pub can be found at 49 Dean St, Soho, London. Alas the pub featured by the Bates Bite lock is only fictional. If you want to know more about the Colony Room club, once again the Internet will satisfy your curiosity. And should you be in need of coffee., visit The Algerian Coffee Store. At 52 Old Compton St, London,W.1. Which is well worth a visit. More or less as it was in 1887. Most likely one of the worlds only authentic coffee shop.

One final thought, why not ask some acquaintance if they believe in ghosts. <<<<>>>>