‘HI, SAMMY,’ Lucy warbled, as she strolled down the lane. She could see Sam ahead of her sitting on the stump of a felled tree, keenly awaiting her arrival.
‘Hey,’ he replied in a relaxed voice, smiling, ‘you alright?’
‘Yep. I’m good – I think.’
He smirked and nodded knowingly. ‘Thanks for coming out for a bit,’ he said, ‘there’s been so much happening lately, I’ve not had much chance to get you alone.’
Lucy laughed, coyly. She’d felt the same way. She struggled to not flush crimson pink. ‘I know. It’s been difficult,’ she empathised, ‘shall we walk over to the lake?’
‘Why not? That’d be nice…’
Sam rose from the stump to join her, offering her an arm to loop, and they set off…
‘Your dad’s been good today,’ said Sam, ‘in good spirits, if you can imagine such a thing.’ But Lucy didn’t answer, she just gazed through the pavement passing beneath their saunter. ‘Lucy? Are you alright?’
‘Hm? Oh. Sorry,’ she said, ‘it’s just that I haven’t called him “Dad” yet. It just sounded – I don’t know – odd.’
‘Sorry,’ he said.
Lucy seemed distracted by her thoughts. ‘Nooo. No it’s fine,’ she insisted, ‘it is actually something I think I’m going to have to get used to – eventually.’ She smiled across at him to let him know she was fine with it. ‘I was also just thinking about what we’re eventually going to do about everything. Where they’re all going to go?’
Sam’s brows flickered his confusion. ‘Surely, Jilly and Jack—’
‘Oh yeah,’ she said, knowing where he was going with his comment, ‘they’ll most probably move into the gatehouse with me and Mum. In fact, I think Mum’ll insist on it. And if she doesn’t, I will.’ ‘Mind you, have you seen the way she is with them?’
Sam laughed affectionately. ‘She’s acting like a new mother.’
Lucy smirked. ‘We mock, but it’s not that far from the truth, is it?’
‘Yeah, I guess you’re right…’ he said, softly smiling. ‘So, it’s just your father then, really.’
Lucy inhaled and loosed a clueless breath, and nodded. ‘Yeah.’
‘Well, he’s fine to be at ours for now. Him and Dad are actually really getting along. Thomas even seems to have some vague memories of my dad as a child, when they were both orphans.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘We’ve all learned so much about each other over these last few days. It’s been kind of crazy…’ They continued to saunter along the path. ‘How’s your grandma now by the way? It must have been quite a shock for her.’
Lucy took a deep breath a sighed. ‘Yeah. She’s fine. She’s strong.’
Sam agreed.
‘We’re going over to see her tomorrow, so she can finally see him. It’s been nearly forty years you know.’
‘I know. It’s hard to get your head around.’
Lucy looked across at him. ‘That’s where they both went the other night – your dad and my mum – when they disappeared off together. They went to see my nan.’
‘Is that true?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Apparently, Nan got worried about what I’d told her, and decided to let them know what we’d been doing, and what we’d found… I guess she was just worried about us, so I can’t really blame her.’‘Guess not.’ He laughed. ‘I’m surprised they believed her. It must have sounded insane.’
They both turned off the path and made their way across the green towards the lake shore, then saw Jilly and Jack were already there, sitting on one of the benches that looked out over the water.
‘Look who’s here,’ muttered Lucy, lifting her chin towards the water’s edge, pleased to see them out and about on their own. ‘Hello, you two!’ she called.
They both turned smiles to their arrival. ‘Hello,’ said Jilly in her soft, timid voice.
Lucy leaned over the back of the bench and wrapped her arms around the both of them. ‘Whatcha doin’?’ she said, brightly.
Jill and Jack looked at each other, and frowned.
‘What – are – you – doing,’ she reiterated, without the yank accent.
‘Owww…’ they said in unison.
‘We were just enjoying looking around,’ said Jack, ‘it’s so lovely here.’
‘It’s not bad is it,’ said Sam, turning to drink in the view they were both admiring. He lolloped to the water’s edge, crouched, and started flipping pebbles, looking for one that was round, flat and smooth… He found one, stood, and hurled it side-on… It skimmed across the millpond stillness of the lake, kissing the reflected sky with a succession of bright splashes. He counted as it bounces across the water… ‘Eleven!’ he cried with a strange sense of triumph.
Jack rose from the seat and walked down to join him. Lucy took his seat next to her sister, shrugging tweely and nudging Jilly with her shoulder.
Jack crouched next to Sam. ‘Do you want a go?’ asked Sam. ‘You need to find one that’s flat, a bit like this one here.’ But Jack didn’t seem interested. He just picked up random pebbles, held them up, and dropped them, watching the speed of their fall.
‘Ah. Yeah,’ said Sam, ‘I’d forgotten about that.’ Jack looked to him for answers. Sam attempted an explanation in the simplest terms he could. ‘The way the stones fall here, is, I guess, how they’re supposed to fall. There’s something about the other place that makes things move much slower. Slower to fall, slower to burn, slower to splash, that kind of thing. Do you understand?’
Jack shrugged.
‘It’s a thing called “time”, and it’s running much slower through there.’
Jack nodded, finally gleaning some understanding, however vague. ‘It’s always been a bit like that,’ Jack said, ‘things moving slowly, compared to what I see here.’ He dropped another pebble, and watched it click against the other stones. ‘But recently, it’s been getting even slower than it was before. But I didn’t realise that wasn’t normal. Until now.’
‘Even slower?’ said Sam.
‘Yes. The things like that,’ he said dropping another rock, ‘the time thing, has recently been getting slower than it ever was.’
Sam thought about Jack’s words… ‘I wonder why?’ he said, thoughtfully, out into the distance. ‘What could be making that happen?’
Lucy and Jilly watched the boys from the seat, already at a place where they could share a comfortable silence. ‘What are they talking about?’ asked Jill.
Lucy huffed a theatrically dismissive shrug. ‘Boy stuff,’ she responded. Jilly laughed. Lucy turned to face her. ‘How’s your dad doing now? Our dad. Thomas I mean… How’s Thomas doing?’
‘He’s fine, I think?’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see him the way he is now. I think we’d forgotten that he ever existed – because of what he’d become.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Lucy.
Sam walked up to join them. ‘Well, I have to say, I find the name Thomas decidedly less intimidating than, “The Master”,’ he said, with a levitous air of sarcasm.
Jack rose from the stones and turned to Jill. She looked back at him, there was apprehension in their faces, and confusion hanging in the air between them.
Sam’s brow furrowed at their reactions. ‘What? What have I said?’ he asked.
Jilly shook her head with a modicum amount of confusion. ‘The Master, isn’t Thomas,’ she explained.
‘What?’ Lucy said. ‘But I thought you said—’
Jack looked puzzled too. ‘No. The Master is the other one. The magic one.’ He looked visibly nervous just to be talking of him.
Jill took up the baton, lowering her voice as though they were in a crowded room full of their enemies. ‘The Master is the one that brings the animals through the mirror,’ whispered Jill, nervously. ‘Those ones he uses to wet the stone.’
Sam stepped in closer. ‘His name,’ he said, ‘this, man. Is it Mallette?’
Jilly flinched at the mere mention of the name, then covered her mouth with her hand. She nodded, then the nod became a frantic shake. ‘Yes, but you shouldn’t say his name!’ she whispered insistently through her fingers.
‘But why didn’t we see him?’ asked Lucy.
Jack looked decidedly pained and as reluctant to talk of Mallette as his sister. He ducked nervously into the huddle and whispered, ‘Because… he’s not always there,’ he explained under his breath. He looked around nervously like a frightened bird, then leaned further in. ‘He mostly lives in the mirrors.’
Both Sam and Lucy pulled peculiar faces in unison.
‘We have to stop talking about him!’ insisted Jilly. ‘He’s – he’s not a good person.’
‘Okay. Okay…’ said Lucy, ‘we’re sorry. We won’t say anymore.’ She took Jill’s hand and cupped it into her own, and smiled.
But Sam had many questions he wanted to present, and fresh answers he needed to know. But he pulled them all back inside for the sake of the new arrivals, and held them fast.
*
Sam and Lucy arrived at the lakeside cottage after escorting Jack and Jilly back to the stable.
Sam had been quiet, looking a mixture of pensive and apprehensive. ‘So, what do you make of all that then?’ he asked.
Lucy shook her head and slow-blinked. ‘Shhh, it’s not our problem anymore. We’re out of that place, and so are they,’ she said, glancing in the direction of the stable block. ‘Let’s just all try and forget about it, for the sake of the kids.’
Sam looked back at her soft, calming features, wondering if he’d ever be able to act like nothing had happened… He eventually smiled. ‘Okay. I guess you’re right. I will try.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, affectionately.
Sam huffed a snigger. ‘“Kids?”’ he said with sarcasm. ‘You do realise they’re older than both of us!’
Lucy laughed, nodded, then look deep into his eyes. She rose onto her toes, pulled him in close, and kissed him with far more tenderness than she ever had before.
Sam could feel her body pressed against his, the rise and fall of her breathing. A wave of affection exhaled through her soft mouth and he freed himself to receive it… The kiss became a hug, and they hung for what felt like a lifetime in the happiness of their embrace… ‘I love you, Sam,’ she muttered into his grateful ear.
The words completed Sam’s life. ‘I love you too,’ he whispered. His response tightened her hold, and she dropped her head affectionately onto his shoulder.
They eventually unwrapped themselves, and gazed into each other with smiling eyes. ‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow?’ she said.
Sam smiled. ‘I’d love to.’
Lucy turned to make her way home. Sam watched her leave, his innards feeling like they’ve been stirred with a spoon. ‘Bye,’ he called up the lane.
She twisted a look back over the delicate sweep of her shoulder. ‘Bye…’
*
The day had been a long one. Sam sat up in bed with his back against the headboard. He was staring at the wall opposite, his thoughts filled with nothing but Lucy, his face wincing the occasional smile as he leafed through his fondest memories.
He was struggling with the concept that the most beautiful person he’d ever encountered had proclaimed her love for him. But he gradually found himself able accept it, and believe in its truth.
He pulled back out of his thoughts, and took his phone from the bedside table. He swiped the screen and tapped his picture files. He scrolled through the thumbnails until he saw one of Lucy, and tapped it…
He swiped through his photos, never realising until now, just how many of the pictures on his phone were of her. He paused on each one, finding something in every image to smile at. ‘You’re amazing,’ he muttered fondly into the Rolodex of images of her beaming face.
He continued swiping through the gallery of his life, until he happened upon the photo he took through the pool to show his father.
His expression puckered, repulsed at the image, and the memories it birthed. He turned his face away, but his eyes remained locked on the picture.
He pondered Lucy’s desire to try to forget about ‘that place’, and tapped the image. The trash can symbol flashed up in the corner of the screen. He hovered his thumb above it, trying to find the inner strength to delete the one and only photographic evidence he, or any of them had, of the strange world they’d discovered.
He withdrew his thumb, closed the photo file, and turned the screen off. He sat in the disquiet of his failure to delete the image, reasoning that he didn’t need to delete it, he’d just avoid looking at it.
But curiosity crushed his resistance, and he lifted the phone again, swiping to the picture files and reopening the image.
He dragged the picture larger on the screen and leaned into it. The memories of their rescue flooded back. The sheer horror they’d faced, and the unbridled joy they’d felt at succeeding. He was amazed to realise just how much the memories had faded over the course of just a couple of days .
He dabbed his finger on the screen again, bringing up the trash can option for a second time. He presented his thumb to tap it, then stopped. His brow darkened. He lifted the phone closer to his face. He studied the photo through concerned eyes. ‘What on earth?’ he muttered.
He zoomed further into the image with a spread of his fingers, and looked again. He could see a figure silhouetted against the dusky sky, crouched on the roof of the mansion. He expanded the image as large as it would go. He could see the hunched figure clearer now, its eyes glowing bright red. It seemed to be looking down towards the pool, straight at the camera.
Sam shuddered, quickly swiping the image away, and urgently opened the phone function.
He scrolled to Lucy’s thumbnail, and presses it. He lifted the phone to his ear and darted a look at the time on his bedside table: 1:29am. He quickly tapped the call off again. ‘Damn!’ he said.
He loosed a frustrated sigh, and fought to calm himself… ‘You can show her tomorrow,’ he told the solitude of the room, ‘what’s the rush?’
*
Lucy lay slumped in her bed with her knees pulled up tight, resting her journal on her legs to bring it closer to her eyes. She was just finishing her final entry for the day.
She rotated her gaze fondly as she wrote the last few words, before flamboyantly tapping the pen at the end of the sentence.
‘There. Finished,’ she said, snapping the book shut. She leaned her head back against the marshmallowy softness of her stack of pillows, and stared thoughtfully through at the ceiling. A reminiscent smile licked at the corners of her mouth…
She opened the journal again and flattened it out on her knees, taking the lid of the ballpoint between her teeth and drawing the pen out. She presented the nib to the last word of the very last sentence and wrote, the pen hovering millimetres above the page. She lifted contemplative eyes and stared across at the wall opposite. She smiled, and dropped her eyes back to the page, drawing a heart next to the word ‘Sam’ and skewering it with a meticulously detailed arrow.
She shut the book again, kicked the duvet off her legs, and rose from the bed. She walked over to her chest of draws and deposited the journal on top of it.
She took a moment to check herself in the new antique mirror her mother had bought for her. She peered at her reflection. ‘Well, goodnight then,’ she said to the face looking back at her, ‘but let’s not make this goodbye,’ she said with a thespian air, ‘let’s make it au revoir.’
She smiled lightly, and ran her fingers around the peaks and troughs of the carved, wooden frame. The silvering on the outer edges of the glass was mottled and heavily foxed. ‘Like laughter lines worn proudly on a face that’s lived a life of happiness,’ she muttered…
Lucy turned, walked back across the room, and jumped back into bed. She pulled the duvet up around her neck and leaned across to turn off the bedside lamp. The light clicked off, and the room fell into darkness, save for the sliver of moonlight on the wall opposite.
Lucy shuffled to get comfortable, and settled… The house fell silent, and still, not a sound to be heard…
The mirror lorded over Lucy, sitting high and proud on top the chest of draws, echoing the world that lay before it…
A dark smudge appeared in the reflection of the moonlit room, manifesting in the farthest reaches of the negative space.
The smudge began to shimmer, and muddy, then began moving slowly forwards towards the glass. The smut swirled like an angry cloud, and thickened into a writhing, smoky mass, its growing force distorting the reflection. A churning mass floating ethereally towards the back of the mirror, its smoky tendrils slowly curling inwards, beginning to solidify, resolving into a scant silhouette of a heavily cloaked figure.
The entity continued to drift until it hovered just behind the window to the world beyond. It lifted bony hands from beneath the cloak, and presented them to the crystal boundary to Lucy’s room.
A face rose from beneath the hood, and opened its eyes. They flashed incandescent like a searing furnace, the edges of its smouldering sockets quivering in the haze of the heat flaming from its hateful gaze.
The entity rolled its face against the glass, and looked down at Lucy asleep in her bed. A desiccated lip quivered back from chipped, calcite teeth. They shimmered in the livid heat emanating from its mouth.
‘Je viens pour toi…’ the figure hissed, it’s breath on fire, the bristling anger in its voice ringing through the glass. ‘Je viens pour toi…!’
Wrathful fingers dropped away from the mirror again, leaving bloody fingerprints behind. It sank away from the glass, melting into the reflected shadows of the room… And as quickly as it had come, the thing was gone…