Thieving Fear

TWENTY-NINE

When Hugh dug the spade into the base of the cliff, a handful of clay trickled down at him. Ellen glanced nervously upwards, but nobody was visible against the sky, although it was almost black enough to hide a watcher. 'Go on,' she urged, sounding muffled by the gloom. He planted one foot on the metal blade and leaned all his weight on it, heaving out a lump of earth as big as a man's head, which came so readily that someone might have been pushing it. Hugh stumbled backwards and, having flung away the spadeful, thrust the blade into the gaping cavity. Before he could exert his weight the mass of earth above him quivered as if it or its tenant were shaking off slumber. The next moment a bulk taller and broader than a house collapsed towards him.

'Watch out,' Ellen wasted time in crying as she made to drag him back. The sound of her approach only distracted him. He swung around to shove her out of danger – swung around the wrong way. His gaze and his frantic movements failed to coincide in search of her as the wall of earth slid towards them so lethargically it might have been relishing its deliberateness. Charlotte couldn't cry out, she could only dash to grab him and Ellen, to haul them clear if there was time. She had nothing to say that would help, and in any case she needed to devote her breath to sprinting faster. But her mouth was open, and it filled with mud as she and her cousins were buried deep in earth.

It blinded her and stuffed her nostrils as soon as she was desperate enough to try to draw a breath. It pinioned her, arms helplessly outstretched, and she was as incapable of movement as a statue. Nevertheless a hand found hers, and she wondered which of her cousins had somehow managed to reach out until she realised that the fingers consisted of very little more than bones. As she struggled to fend off their clasp she grew aware of another unwelcome companion – a large insect that was attempting to crawl over her breast, buzzing silently with the effort. This was one outrage too many, and Charlotte attempted to project her distress into a cry that barely penetrated her clogged ears, if indeed she wasn't imagining she had uttered it. She put her entire self into the next suffocated protest. Enfeebled though it was, it succeeded in emerging from the dark, because it brought a response. 'Are you all right, dear?'

This made no difference to the insect, which continued to nuzzle her breast. She opened her eyes to find she was still holding a hand. The fingers weren't so bony, and surely not as limp as death. They were Rory's, and the breath on her neck was an earthy draught from the open window. As she reassured herself that his hand was too warm to be other than living, Annie spoke from her post by the opposite bed. 'I was letting you have your nap. You have to take them when you can in here.'

The silenced mobile finished vibrating as Charlotte took it out of her pocket. 'Was that what was disturbing you?' Annie said. 'I should think they're a nuisance, those things. I wouldn't want anyone being able to get me wherever I am.'

Charlotte's eyes were muddy with sleep, and she had to blink hard before she could make out the displayed number. It was Hugh's. 'Could you keep an eye again?' she said. 'I just need to step outside for a few minutes.'

'Everyone's deserting us,' Annie informed or at least said to her husband, and reminded Charlotte 'You never did say where your family ran off to.'

'That's what I'm going to be hearing about, I hope.'

'All right, you can tell me all about it when you come back.'

Was she establishing this as her reward for watching over Rory? Charlotte left her a faintly promissory smile and hurried down the ward. The corridor seemed narrower than ever, except where side passages made room for shadows, more of those than she had time to identify. She dashed to the lifts and sent herself forwards as soon as one parted its doors. She was tempted to return Hugh's call at once, because she found the ponderous descent even more suffocating than the lack of windows. She managed to resist until she was out of the lift and past the reception desk, only for a mass of cigarette smoke that was loitering outside the main door to catch her breath. She hadn't finished coughing by the time she walked a few yards while raising Hugh's number. It rang several times, and then there was silence that she tried not to fill with a cough. As she spluttered instead Hugh demanded 'What is it?'

'Nothing as long as you're both all right.' When this earned no response she had to ask 'Are you?'

'Same as you saw. How about you? You sound as if you can't breathe.'

'Of course I can,' Charlotte more or less declared until a cough completed her last word. As she retreated from the smokers and the fumes of a tarrying taxi she said 'Why did you call?'

'Just wondered if you'd anything to tell us.'

'I don't think so.' While she felt ashamed of having fallen asleep on watch, surely Annie would have alerted her to any change. 'He's as you left him,' she said.

'No, I mean did your editor call, that's to say Ellen's.'

'Not a sound.' This resembled a warning more than Charlotte liked, and made her wonder 'Where are you?'

'Pretty well there.'

'You're really going to do whatever you're planning to do, then.'

'Unless you've got any better ideas.'

'I think you've left me behind this time. If you're going through with it,' she felt forced to add, 'go all the way.'

'That's a promise.'

It seemed more like a threat if not worse. She heard Ellen ask a question, which prompted her to say 'Does Ellen want to speak to me?'

'Do you want a word?'

'Just tell her to look after Rory.'

'She says –'

'I heard,' Charlotte said, though she barely had. Ellen sounded too remote, no doubt because she and the phone were in the open, together with a harsh uneven breath of wind. Her request could easily seem ominous, and Charlotte felt the need to add 'We'll all –'

'That's right. Anyway, time we got on. We'll have plenty of chance to talk later.'

'Go on,' she said, 'good luck,' by which time Hugh had gone, leaving her the impression of calling into a hole. She took a breath that was a kind of suffocation, since she held it while she hurried past a queue of cars and a sampling of three generations of smokers. She expelled it at last and was taking another, which felt parched by the hospital and pinched small by a tinge of disinfectant as well as constricted by the lobby and the visitors who were close to filling it, when the phone twitched in her hand.

She swung around and dodged through the crowd, which couldn't really be arranging itself to block her escape. 'Nowt to be afraid of, love,' a woman told her or a granddaughter.

'Plenty of room,' said a man on two sticks, perhaps to justify not moving aside. Charlotte found a gap not too far from him and ran into the open air, or at least what passed for it beyond the exit. She let out a gasp to make way for a less stale breath and used some of that to say 'Yes, Glen.'

'Hi. It's me sure enough,' he said as if he thought her overly abrupt. 'How's the invalid?'

'They say he's comfortable. It's the kind of thing they say. I suppose he is if the word's even relevant. I don't know and I don't know if he does.'

'I'm sure you're doing –'

'All I can. Don't say it, Glen. It won't make me feel any better, and certainly not him.'

She was as thrown by her outburst as she imagined Glen must be. As she glanced around to see that nobody had eavesdropped he said 'Anyway, you wanted me.'

'We did. Me and Ellen,' Charlotte said and felt bound to add 'And Hugh.'

'You aren't going to tell me he's helping her write as well.'

'He just likes to be involved when he can be,' said Charlotte, wishing she had given herself time to think. 'We're all one family.'

'So there's how many listening?'

'Just me,' Charlotte said and at once felt overheard.

'Gee, what's happened to your family?'

'They –' She couldn't explain to him or invent a story either. 'I'm outside,' she said.

'What brought you out? You weren't waiting for me?'

She feared being trapped into lie after lie, but her answer stayed all too close to the truth. 'I wanted some air.'

'Can't ever get enough of that. So what else did you need?'

Reassurance would have been welcome, but she couldn't ask for that without betraying far too much. 'We wondered if you'd been going to tell us anything else.'

'When I ended up talking to myself, you mean? I thought you'd had enough of me.'

'We'd gone underground,' she said, and hastily 'So what did you say that we didn't hear?'

'Remind me where I'd got to.'

'You were saying –' This brought the tunnel all the more to mind, but she had to go on. 'You'd just told us what he was afraid of.'

'Your cousin's guy. Well, he was.'

Charlotte would have preferred not to have to ask 'He was what?'

'Buried there under some kind of mound.'

She wasn't sure if this or her confusion made her brain feel dark and cramped. 'Where, do you know?'

'Where his house was.'

Presumably almost a hundred years of erosion had flattened the mound. 'Was that all?' Charlotte asked or hoped.

'All I can think of right now, except you could tell her good luck from me.'

He meant with the book, Charlotte had to remember. 'Thanks, Glen,' she said to end the call, which seemed to have been no earthly use. She silenced the mobile and turned to the hospital. The prospect seemed more oppressive than ever, and she could think of at least one reason. While she waited for one of her cousins to call, she would have to think where to tell Annie they'd gone.