Into the Thinnest of Air

  ‘So where have the two of you been keeping yourselves all these years you’ve been away?’

  Albert and Olivia looked at each other quickly. I had the impression that Albert was silently asking Olivia whether she wanted to speak first. And when she made it clear she didn’t, just how much he should say. She intimated that he should get on with it, but be careful what he said. It’s amazing how much you can pack into a couple of quick looks.

  ‘We’ve been living in London,’ said Albert. ‘Involved in a series of small businesses. Some successful, others not so much. Everything from running a small publishing firm and running murder mysteries to running a small bed and breakfast … Never really doing what we wanted, but following opportunities and making a living.’

  ‘Whereabouts in London?’ asked Jimmy, tearing his gaze away from Valerie as his reporter’s instincts kicked in.

  ‘Never any of the fashionable areas,’ said Albert. ‘A good address can look very impressive on a business card, but it’ll cost you an arm and a leg. We were doing all right, but we were never really satisfied … until our lottery win gave us the opportunity to return home.’

  ‘And achieve our old dream, at last,’ said Olivia.

  ‘We had such hopes and plans when we were younger!’ said Thomas. ‘There were so many things we were going to do … We were going to make something of ourselves and change the world! What happened to us?’

  ‘We grew up,’ said Eileen.

  Another silence fell, that no one seemed to want to break. But since Penny has never allowed good manners to get in the way when she wants to know something, she proceeded to press Thomas on what he’d been saying.

  ‘Didn’t you always want to be a vicar?’

  He laughed, apparently quite genuinely. ‘No! I wanted to race motorbikes for a living. Or failing that, I wanted to work on them as a mechanic. But I experienced my own “Road to Damascus” conversion, my very own moment of spiritual insight and understanding. It opened my eyes and changed the way I saw the world forever … I was suddenly aware that there was so much more to life.’

  ‘What happened?’ said Penny.

  ‘He ate some mushrooms,’ said Eileen.

  ‘The cause isn’t important,’ Thomas said firmly. ‘What matters is that my inner eyes had been forced all the way open. And once I had been forced to acknowledge the possibility of a much larger world, I couldn’t look away. I had a head full of questions, and no answers. And wanted to know more. So I dropped everything, considered the possibilities, and entered a seminary. To study and to assure myself that I had a real vocation. Somewhat to my surprise, I discovered that I did. Afterwards I could have applied for a parish anywhere, but I chose to return to Black Rock Towen. Because that was where my roots were, and because I thought I could make a difference here. It’s hard to make an impression on people in a big city – there are too many distractions and your efforts get spread too thin. But in a small town like this, one man can make a difference. Besides, Eileen was here.’

  ‘And so I became a vicar’s wife,’ said Eileen. She smiled briefly. There was something in her eyes that might have been sadness. Maybe bitterness. ‘Even though that was never on the list of things that I hoped to be someday.’

  ‘Was there something else you would rather have been?’ asked Penny.

  ‘I never could decide,’ said Eileen. She drank unhurriedly from her glass, as she gave the question some serious thought. ‘I was always ready to go along with whatever anyone else wanted and what other people thought I should be. And while I was still trying to make up my mind, life happened and I found I was stuck …’

  Before another silence could fall, or perhaps because he was worried where Eileen’s thoughts might be leading her, Jimmy decided to butt in.

  ‘I always knew I wanted to be a journalist. To find out what was really going on in the world and tell people all about it. To wake them up and make them take notice. When I got my job on the local rag, I thought that was just a stepping stone to bigger stories on bigger papers … But somehow the opportunity to move on and move up never happened. So here I am, telling people things they probably already know. And don’t care that much about anyway, as long as I spell their names right.’

  ‘You could have left the town any time,’ said Valerie.

  ‘I always meant to,’ said Jimmy. ‘But life got in the way. You never left, either …’

  ‘Black Rock Towen has a hold on all of us,’ said Valerie. ‘And the big world can seem a very scary place when all you’ve ever known is a small town.’

  I looked at Albert and Olivia. ‘You left …’

  ‘We had to,’ said Albert. ‘We had no choice.’

  There was a quiet but very real bitterness in his tone. Olivia shot him a hard look, before smoothly taking over.

  ‘We had no choice if we were to make something of ourselves. But now here we are, back again, to make our dream come true at last!’

  ‘Not all of us can afford dreams,’ said Jimmy. ‘Some of us have to settle for what we can get.’

  I sensed a certain frisson around the table, among the four guests. A quiet sadness, of dreams given up on.

  Jimmy glowered suddenly at Penny. ‘We can’t all inherit a fortune from father.’

  He realized the others were all staring at him and that he’d gone too far, but he just scowled defiantly back. Albert cleared his throat and nudged Olivia’s arm. She gave him an ‘I know, I hadn’t forgotten’ look.

  She produced a small bottle of plum brandy and presented it to me with a flourish. ‘A speciality of the inn, Ishmael. A little something from Tyrone’s time. Do try some. I’d appreciate your opinion.’

  She uncorked the bottle and poured a generous measure into a fresh glass. The brandy was a delicate tawny shade and smelled distinctly fruity. I didn’t see any point in telling Olivia that I’d never developed any opinions about good or bad booze, because none of it has ever had any effect on me. So I just savoured the aroma appreciatively and swilled the stuff around in my mouth as if I knew what I was doing. In my line of work, you learn to fake all kinds of things.

  ‘Excellent,’ I said solemnly. ‘A good nose, a fine body, and a surprisingly evocative aftertaste.’

  I can talk the talk when I have to. I drank the stuff down, and Olivia immediately poured me some more, filling my glass right to the brim. I wondered if she was trying to get me drunk so she and Albert could gang up on Penny. In which case, they were on a hiding to nothing. I could drink brandy by the gallon and not even slur my speech. I emptied my glass, and Olivia poured me some more. And we both smiled happily at each other, each of us thinking our own thoughts.

  ‘I am pleased you and Albert have taken over the Castle, Olivia,’ said Thomas. ‘A prosperous and successful Castle can only be good for all of us.’

  Jimmy looked at him dubiously. ‘How do you make that out?’

  ‘You’ll get a whole series of stories for your paper,’ said Thomas. ‘About the return of the prodigals, and the inn’s colourful history, and all the tourists it will attract to Black Rock Towen. A successful relaunching of Tyrone’s legend will undoubtedly help sales of Valerie’s book. And I will be glad to see more tourist money coming in, which will help the local economy and improve the townspeople’s lives.’

  ‘You’re always so selfless, Thomas,’ said Eileen.

  ‘Part of the job, dear.’

  ‘And what about me?’ said Eileen. ‘What do I get out of all this?’

  ‘Somewhere new to drink,’ said Thomas.

  For the first time, there was a certain sharpness in his voice. Eileen looked at him and raised her glass in salute to acknowledge the point.

  We’d all finished eating by now, including extra helpings from the lower shelves of the trolley, and we sat back in our chairs, happy and full and satisfied. We smiled at each other, and nodded appreciatively to our hosts.

  ‘That was a fine meal,’ said Thomas. ‘And a good end to the long shadow cast by T
yrone’s last celebration.’ But then he frowned, looking thoughtfully at Albert and Olivia. ‘Still, I have to ask – do you really think it’s a good idea to publicize the more unpleasant aspects of that man’s story, just to drag people in? Your culinary skills are good enough to make the inn a success, all on their own.’

  ‘These days it’s important to have a gimmick,’ said Olivia. ‘If you’re to stand out from all the other country inns and themed restaurants.’

  ‘But which part of the legend are you going to concentrate on?’ said Thomas, pushing the point. ‘The murders? Or the supernatural element?’

  ‘It’s all just stories …’ said Albert.

  ‘I was wondering about that,’ said Penny. ‘I’ve heard so many stories tonight about Tyrone and the inn. They can’t all be true. I’m still not clear about this whole Voices thing …’

  ‘It’s just local traditions,’ said Valerie. ‘There are whole cycles of old legends covering the same ground over and over again. People have been hearing Voices in this vicinity for generations. In the woods, out at sea … Sometimes right in the middle of the town in the quiet hours of the night.’

  ‘But what do these Voices have to say?’ I asked.

  ‘Depends on which version of the stories you listen to,’ said Jimmy. ‘Sometimes it’s threats, sometimes it’s temptations; other times it’s personal stuff. Warnings about enemies, confirmation of gossip, things you should and shouldn’t do … Stories tailored to suit the needs and morals of their times. They’re just small-town scares designed to keep people in line.’

  ‘A lot of the time, yes, I would have to agree with that,’ said Thomas. ‘Stories crafted to serve a moral purpose and reinforce local customs.’

  ‘You’re actually agreeing with me?’ said Jimmy. ‘Quick, somebody take a photo …’

  ‘Who’d know better about such things than me?’ said Thomas. ‘The whole Church is based on parables, after all. But there is one local story that strikes true to me. Very different to all the others, though not unconnected …’

  ‘There is?’ said Jimmy. ‘Do tell, Thomas. This is all news to me.’

  Valerie leaned forward across the table, fixing Thomas with her gaze. ‘And to me. I thought I’d covered all the local legends in my research. What did I miss?’

  Thomas stirred uncomfortably as we all looked at him curiously. As if he was suddenly unsure whether he should have raised the subject. He looked at his wine glass, but didn’t touch it. And then he smiled calmly round the table and relaxed in his chair, as he decided to go ahead. His heavy black-leather jacket made soft creaking noises as he settled himself comfortably.

  ‘This is another story I discovered in the old Church records. I spent a lot of time going through them after I returned to Black Rock Towen. Trying to immerse myself in the spirit of the place after so long away. Anyway … this particular tale dates back to the middle of the seventeenth century. It seems a certain scholar of great renown came to Black Rock Towen, searching for a certain rare book he thought he might find in our justly famous old town library. Impressed by his reputation, the worthy overseers of the town library allowed him unfettered access. According to the reports I read, he eventually discovered the book he was looking for, and used what he found in it for purposes the town elders would never have approved of. He is supposed to have made a pact with some unknown force and opened a door between this world and another. And something came through, or got out.

  ‘Some say it’s still here after all these years … something unseen and perhaps even bodiless, trapped in our world. And the Voices people hear are this unnatural creature taking out its anger on us, because the door closed and it can’t get back to where it belongs. Now it’s just a Voice in the night, speaking evil. Because that’s all that’s left of it.’

  There was a long pause. Everyone looked at everyone else and waited for someone to say something.

  ‘What happened to the renowned scholar?’ asked Penny.

  ‘There’s nothing in the records about that,’ said Thomas. ‘Even his name has been expunged. Perhaps he found out the hard way that a door opens both ways.’

  Jimmy applauded loudly, in an only somewhat condescending manner. ‘Well done, Thomas! I never knew you were such a great storyteller!’

  ‘He isn’t usually,’ said Eileen. ‘Have you ever listened to one of his sermons? No, of course not. Silly question.’

  ‘I don’t bother Thomas where he works, and he doesn’t bother me at the paper,’ said Jimmy. ‘If only the rest of the world would follow our example.’

  ‘I can see I’m going to have to investigate these old Church records of yours, Thomas,’ said Valerie, cutting in quickly. ‘You will allow me access, won’t you?’

  ‘Ask me later,’ said Thomas.

  ‘I’m still not clear about why people made such a point of staying away from the Castle while it was empty and run down,’ I said. ‘If no one’s ever seen a ghost around here, apart from the tree, of course … What keeps the local youths away? I would have thought a reputation as a bad place would have acted like catnip to kids looking for some mischief to get into. So what scares them off?’

  There was another long pause, but this time the silence around the table felt distinctly uncomfortable.

  ‘Some stories are all the more unpleasant because they’re true,’ Thomas said finally. ‘Matters of undeniable fact, not legend. This particular story happened not long after Albert and Olivia left Black Rock Towen. The Castle was empty, deserted, but not yet the ruin it was destined to become.’

  He paused, and Olivia forced a smile. ‘You can’t stop there, Thomas! What is it? What happened? If this involves the Castle, if it’s something that could affect our business, then Albert and I need to know. Why do the local kids stay away?’

  ‘A couple of boys came out here late one evening,’ Thomas said heavily. ‘Eleven years old, and already well-known trouble-makers. Looking to make a name for themselves with their peers by indulging in a little criminal damage. Broken windows, graffiti, the usual. Maybe even break into the Castle and see if there was anything worth stealing. Two boys came out here, but only one came back. By then it was the early hours of the morning. Their parents had finally noticed their absence and raised the alarm. People were standing around in the main street, arguing over where to start their search, when one of the boys came staggering back into town. White-faced, trembling all over, with eyes like he’d looked into Hell itself … It took some time before he was able to answer questions. He said his friend had stepped off the edge of the cliff. Not fallen, or even jumped. Just deliberately stepped out into nothing and fell to his death.’

  ‘Why would he do something like that?’ said Penny.

  ‘You know why …’ said Eileen. ‘The Voices told him to.’

  Thomas nodded slowly. ‘That was the boy’s story. And he stuck to it, no matter how hard people pressed him.’

  ‘What happened to the boy?’ I asked.

  ‘He hanged himself,’ said Thomas. ‘And that’s why even today no one from town likes to come out here once it gets dark. Even though none of them will admit it.’ He smiled bleakly at Albert and Olivia. ‘Not a story to put on your website. The tourists wouldn’t like it.’

  ‘This is a bad place,’ said Eileen. ‘Always has been. Nothing good will ever come of it.’

  Olivia scowled at her, not bothering to hide the anger in her voice. ‘There’s nothing in any way weird or supernatural happening here! Nothing! The stories … are just stories! The kid who fell was probably pushed over the edge by his friend, and that’s why he hanged himself. Look, Albert and I both slept here overnight in the guest rooms upstairs when we were overseeing the renovation, and neither of us ever saw or heard anything. Tell them, Albert!’

  And then she glared at him, when he didn’t immediately back her up. Albert shifted in his chair, clearing his throat reluctantly as everyone stared at him.

  ‘I never actually saw anything,’ he said. ‘
But I did hear things occasionally …’

  ‘Like what?’ Penny asked immediately.

  Albert looked at his wife, to see if he should continue. She shrugged testily and gave him a ‘Go ahead if you want to make a fool of yourself’ look. Albert took a long drink from his glass before facing the rest of us.

  ‘More than once, in the night, I was sure I heard footsteps. Walking back and forth, down here. At first I put it down to creakings in the wooden floor, or to the structure of the inn settling after all the changes we’d made. But it did sound very much like footsteps.’

  For the first time, I felt like taking him seriously. Substantial changes to the physical structure of an old building have been known to bring about all kinds of intrusions from the past. Like playing back an old recording. Which is as close as I was ever going to come to accepting a ghost.

  ‘Did you ever go downstairs to check?’ Penny asked Albert.

  ‘Just the once,’ he said slowly. ‘Olivia never heard anything. She’s a very deep sleeper. The footsteps sounded particularly loud and distinct that night, and I was concerned it might be an intruder. So I put on my dressing gown and came downstairs. Making lots of noise on the stairs, so if anyone was down here they’d have plenty of time to get out. But when I entered the dining room and turned on the lights, the place was empty. Nothing to show anyone had ever been in here …’

  I looked at Olivia and she shrugged, unimpressed. ‘I never heard anything in the night.’

  ‘But you did see something,’ Albert said stubbornly.

  Olivia glared at him as though he’d let her down, before looking reluctantly round the table. ‘It wasn’t anything, really. It was just that now and again I would find one of the guest-room doors standing open when I was sure I’d closed it. But I could have been mistaken, or the door could simply have been hung badly. Nothing to get excited about. I have never seen or heard anything supernatural in this inn! Not once!’

  ‘But there are all these stories …’ said Penny.