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Several weeks passed by in a blur, but the group had already bonded closely. Maxine was an integral part of the team and didn’t feel like an outsider anymore. Only Eloise stayed aloof, which was no surprise to the friends. She still tried to be superior and associated herself far more with the curator than those on her own level.
To the curator and Eloise’s surprise, the warning to the group of friends about not abusing their powers actually galvanised them and, rather than slowing them down, they pushed more to find out what they could do back in the physical world.
Hector rallied the other three to meet at his place at sunrise. Since finding out that he could fit his place out with furniture, the inside of his hut now looked like one of those displays in IKEA. It certainly seemed like a perfect place to be. One wall was dedicated to a huge bookcase, complete with over a hundred books.
As Damien scanned the spines, he saw that most of them were in German, and some were written in languages that he didn’t even recognise. He paused and pulled one book out to flick through. It was titled ‘The Best Museums of The World.’ With an amused smile, Damien leafed through the pages, laughing as he said, ‘I wonder how many of these places have hidden portals to the supernatural world.’
Maxine sat and took a hair brush out of a small bag. ‘If somewhere like Doncaster Museum does, I’d say most of them do.’ She gave an odd smirk, which made everyone laugh even more than the words themselves. ‘Anyway, Hector, why have you gathered us all here this morning at the crack of dawn?’
It was the tall German’s turn to look mysterious. Damien was pleased to see that in recent weeks, his friend’s eyes were looking less haunted and he wasn’t as gaunt. Hector ran his fingers through his hair and said, ‘We have been forbidden to engage directly with our families. As you know, I have been here for an exceedingly long time. I am so thrilled for you, Damien, that your beautiful wife has joined you here on the island. For me, well, I know that my daughter is dead. When my wife dies, if she hasn’t already, I don’t know where she will go. But I do know that I am eternally here, unless the curator decides to bump me off somewhere else.’ He took a deep breath and looked round at each of his friends. ‘So, my friends, today is the day that we shall visit my Ehefrau.’
An uneasy gasp burst from Damien. ‘What, we’re going to just go and see her? I think that’s a step too far, even for me.’
Nancy glowered at Damien. ‘Grow a pair, darling. We are management after all.’
Hector beamed at Nancy. ‘I knew you’d persuade him. Danke.’
Maxine stood and thrust her hands deep into her jacket pockets. She had a wicked twinkle in her eyes and excitedly said, ‘Come on, what are we waiting for?’
The group looked around to make sure they were not being observed by any of the other villagers Then they made a run for it into the so-called forbidden area and were soon at the control hut. Once inside, Hector strode over to a florescent orange door. He made eye contact with Damien, who looked back at his friend, unable to hide his worry behind his grimace. Hector pushed the door open and stepped through to the other side. He wasn’t yet used to the feeling of stepping through a portal door into apparent thin air. He supposed it must be a similar feeling to that of a novice skydiver when they step out of an aircraft for the first time.
Each of the group faithfully followed him through to the other side. Their destination was determined by the first person’s intention. Damien looked around and was struck by how similar it looked to the room in the museum in Newdon—the boxes of Roman coins covered with a dusting of grime, and a feeling that the room hadn’t been stepped in for several years.
Maxine shook her head as she turned around in slow motion. ‘Blimey, this room is a replica of the one in Doncaster Museum. It is exactly the same...this is crazy!’
Nancy spoke softly. ‘Newdon too. I hope the curator isn’t standing on the other side of that door.’ She pointed at the door that would lead into the main part of the museum.
‘Don’t say that, you’ll jinx it,’ said Damien, but then a cheeky smile spread over his face. ‘Only one way to find out.’
Hector took the lead once more, and the others deferred to him as it was his hometown. He grasped the door handle and pushed it down with care, the grimace on his face suggesting that he may be electrocuted at any moment. The door opened smoothly, and they were all inside the museum in the blink of an eye. Nancy noticed that the door was the same as the one in Newdon, even down to the scratches on the door frame. This is really weird.
Hector noted with satisfaction that the museum was quite busy with visitors milling around. He had feared that they might arrive when it was closed and end up being caught and treated as trespassers.
Damien enjoyed looking at the various displays in the room as they made their way towards the exit. Marcus has passed his love for museums up to me.
They entered the area of the museum where the entrance doors were sited. Damien and Nancy looked at each other in disbelief when they saw what was on display. A Japanese exhibition. And the same outfit from the V&A museum in London took pride of place. Damien was on the verge of tears when he said, ‘This can’t be a coincidence. When I first went through that damn door in Newdon, the museum had an exhibition about Japan and that...that exhibit had pride of place.’ He pointed an accusing finger at the armour.
Maxine took a deep breath. ‘Doncaster too. The curator has to be behind this. She must have known we were coming. Fuck it, let’s get over to Hector’s wife.’
***
TAKING FULL ADVANTAGE of being dead, they stayed invisible to normal people as they made their way outside. Hector, thankfully, knew which busses to catch, and he relished standing up in the middle of the bendy vehicle where the two halves met.
Three busses and just forty minutes later, they alighted at the end of Hector’s street, opposite an area of woodland, all feeling glad of the famous German efficiency. A small bird sat on a car roof and chirped at them as they walked by. Hector smiled at the creature, happy to be back in his own environment. They passed half a dozen neatly kept houses, most with two cars parked on the drive. ‘It’s not far now.’ Hector glowed with excitement as his pace picked up to the fast side of brisk.
When they reached his home, Hector came to a halt and stared at the house. A small terrier dog looked out of the window, barking with enthusiasm at the group of friends. Maxine looked at Hector with an empty feeling in her stomach; she knew that bad news was coming.
Hector went to the window, only centimetres from the plucky dog, and put his hand over his brow to shield light from his eyes as he peered through the polished glass.
‘Shit. She must have passed on.’ His shoulders slumped in bitter disappointment. ‘So much for being a rebel. I left it too late.’
Tears sprouted their way from his eyes and trickled down his face. Damien put his arm around Hector’s shoulders and said, ‘I’m so sorry, mate.’
Hector shrugged, which seemed strange in its contrast to the intense sadness pouring from him. ‘It’s okay. I left it too late. All I can say is that I wish I’d come back sooner. We had better get back to the island before they notice we aren’t there.’
The reverse journey to the museum seemed to take twice as long, even though it still only involved the same three busses and the same forty minutes. Damien noticed the haunted look had returned to Hector’s face, and he couldn’t help but feel desperately sorry for him.
They filed into the museum and walked in silence back to the store room. Hector whispered, ‘Farewell, Deutschland,’ as they entered the musty room.
Much to everyone’s dismay, the curator was standing in front of the door back to the island. Hector sighed when he saw the woman standing there with her arms folded tightly across her chest. He held a finger in the air, as though he was silencing a classroom full of excited school children. ‘Say not one word.’
The curator’s mouth curled upwards in an awkward and insincere smile. With an evil chuckle rattling from her chest, she stood to one side and let the friends file through the door back into the control hut.
Maxine was the last of the friends to leave the museum, the curator in her slipstream. She pulled the door shut behind her and threw a thick bolt across to secure it. She looked at Hector over the top of her glasses and then clicked a heavy padlock onto the bolt.
The curator rattled the door with her right hand and let out a self-satisfied grunt. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, pausing for a moment too long to allow the silence to build.
The screens back inside the hut streamed scenes from around the globe, which tamed the tension that should have been building. The curator looked at them, trying to hold their individual gazes. Maxine looked bored, sitting on a table and wafting her dangling feet so her rainbow laces clacked annoyingly on the leather of her shoes. Hector sat back in the massage chair, enjoying the firm pressing of the mechanical pads while staring at the ceiling. Damien and Nancy were both looking at the same screen, watching Newdon town centre CCTV.
Damien smiled sadly. That place doesn’t even feel like home anymore. Nancy sat forward and peered at the screen. When she smiled with real warmth, Damien frowned with puzzlement and tried to see what Nancy had spotted. He saw a young girl holding hands with a woman who looked to be in her forties. Wait a minute, that ginger hue looks familiar.
Damien glanced at Nancy and lifted an eyebrow. ‘Hope?’ He didn’t need to say more than the single word.
Nancy beamed. ‘Yes, and the woman is Nicola, my friend from school who I met again at the hospital. She promised me that she would keep in touch with Marcus and Hope after I died.’
Damien loved the happiness pouring from his wife, and he felt relieved that Hope and Marcus had someone looking after their best interests. They watched the pair stride into Hissing Sids Toy Store, no doubt ready to spend at least double what pocket money Hope actually had in her purse.
A deliberate cough in the background burst their individual bubbles, and they collectively looked at the curator. She adjusted her top and smoothed down a crease. ‘I did try to warn you to not dabble in your old life.’
‘But—’ Hector tried to interject.
‘But nothing. I know you disobeyed me and went back to your home town. As it happens, you were too late, and your wife had already been dead for a couple of Earth years.’
An angry murmur passed through the ranks of those assembled. The curator didn’t seem to notice, and even if she did, she didn’t seem to care. Eloise entered the hut and sat on the table next to where the curator was standing. She cast her eyes around her peer group in disgust. The curator said, ‘Me and Eloise have been talking about what should be done about you lot. I feel like I have given you an inch to start to learn about your new roles and powers, and you have tried to take a mile, as the old saying goes. This is not acceptable.’ She glared at each person in turn, trying her best to intimidate them. ‘My feeling is to disengage each of you from the SMG, but each of you has potential. So consider this a final warning.’
Eloise stood and folded her arms. ‘In fact, it is purely down to the curator that you are still here. If it were down to me, I’d have either put you all in the same state as Cuthbert Osland or bump you all onto another island. It is simply unacceptable that you are getting ideas above your station.’
‘Thank you, Eloise, that’s enough,’ said the curator with an annoyed expression, even more so than when she first addressed the others. A pregnant pause followed, and the curator started to walk towards the entrance door. As she was walking through it, she said, ‘Take the rest of the day as observation and stay here looking at the screens. Maxine and Nancy, you can do some people sorting if you like. Hector and Damien, try not to touch anything and learn from the women. Eloise, go to your own hut or take a long walk. Goodbye.’
The curator closed the door behind her, leaving a weird atmosphere in her wake. Eloise looked unsure of what to do. Hector, on the other hand, stood and walked purposefully to the door. After opening it, he stood in the doorway with his hand gesturing outside. Eloise busily scanned each of the screens, looking anywhere and everywhere but at Hector. The big German, seeing she needed further encouragement, cleared his throat and said, ‘You heard the boss, Eloise. You had better leave before you are punished for not doing as you are told.’
Eloise looked past Hector and out through the open door. Where does this leave me? I thought I was on the same team as the curator, but she’s put me in an impossible situation. It’s not like I can make up and be pals with this bunch, not today...
She shot to her feet and said, ‘See you tomorrow. Be good.’ Jutting her chin in the air and barging past Hector, Eloise stomped her way out of the hut and disappeared in the direction of the village.