Campion's Choice

In the middle of the week, on Wednesday morning, Jack was late for school. This was his sixth day in Hanston and unfortunately he had forgotten his swimming costume. He told Petra to go on without him (she had a music lesson) and so, alone and half naked, he hurried along the empty pavements of Church Street. It was way too hot to wear a t-shirt in this glorious weather.

For the first time in a while he felt good. The sun was shining. It was a beautiful day and he was going to spend hours reading and lazing around the school pool. It was also a nice bonus that the threat of Criel and her gun had begun to fade.

Passing by the churchyard he heard what sounded like someone crying.

‘Hello?’ he called softly but he wasn’t sure what to do. Perhaps the person wanted to be left alone? It was Tia who called out.

‘Don’t go.’

Jack looked over the low wall and could just see her, standing in the shadows, beneath the low hanging branches of a holly tree, next to the church.

Reluctantly he climbed the wall and, even more reluctantly, he put a hand on her shoulder.

‘There, there.’

She wailed like a baby. Her face was blotchy and her eyes were red with tears.

‘Okay, okay. It’s alright.’

He snuggled up and put an arm out, hugging her close. Tia’s breaths changed from great big noisy heaves to soft little gasps.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ she said and grabbed him.

The next thing he knew, the two of them lurched sideways and Tia dragged him towards the oak door on the side of the church. Just like the night at Bob’s office they slipped past the solid wooden material. Again, it felt like walking though a curtain of rain.

Jack blinked. Before he had time to gather his wits in the gloom, Tia sat down on the nearest pew and began to jabber and cry again.

‘I’m so .. so .. sorry,’ she said, her words coming out in little jerky pieces.

‘Why?’

‘I was horrible to Petra and I miss my mum and my brother so much.’

She fought for breath and then, with teary eyes she turned her head and wiped a snotty nose on his bare shoulder.

‘Ugh…’ Jack protested.

Ignoring that she gulped out more words.

‘I know … I said … I don’t care … but I do. I do worry. My brother is such a bozo and my mum needs me.’

For a while she managed to control the snivelling.

What had happened? It didn’t make sense to Jack. A couple of days ago she loved life in Hanston. Now she hated it. Why?

As if readings his thoughts Tia spoke quickly.

‘I do love it here. I’m really important. Everyone likes me. I can make any animal do what I want. I have loads of friends. I don’t get up, every morning, feeling sick with worry, wondering if we have enough money for food, or if I’ll ever get any new clothes, or why we never, ever have a holiday. So, waking up here is great. But then I got to school this morning, and I was walking up the steps and I heard someone playing the piano. It reminded me of Mum and I looked through the window and it was Petra practising. She gave me this great big smile.’

‘Well ..’ Jack began but more sobbing and babbling cut him short.

‘I miss my mum! And Petra is always really nice to me, even though I treat her so badly! I’m a horrible, horrible, horrible person!’

Jack shivered and wished that he were wearing a t-shirt. The inside of the church was cold enough to make ice. The sooner they got out of there the better.

‘You’re not horrible. Look, it’s all been really weird. Things will get better. I bet Ursula is making sure your mum is being looked after by ….’ He hesitated and couldn’t find the right word. In the end he said, ‘By Tia number two.’

‘Maybe you’re right.’

‘Yeah. Things will be fine, you’ll see.’

A thin, hopeful smile appeared on Tia’s lips.

‘And Gidean may turn up any day now and that will be great. Yeah. Yeah. It will all be fine.’

She smiled a wide happy smile and without so much as a thank you or backward glance she got up and walked straight through the church’s solid oak door.

Jack closed his eyes and slumped back in the pew.

Gidean!

The name set his teeth on edge. If Gidean ever turned up he would definitely leave Hanston no matter what threats Ursula made.

Another shiver ran down his spine. The air was so cold. There were goosebumps on his bare skin.

A ray of single sunlight poured through a stained glass window striking the altar. The speckled colours and glinting silver brought life to the amazing little church. What would be the harm in taking five minutes to explore?

He moved down the nave.

Now that these strange shapes and shadows surrounded him it all began to feel a bit like his time travelling dream. Everything in the church seemed to be untouched. It looked like someone had shut the door hundreds of years ago, turned the key and left the whole place to go mouldy. Dust tickled his throat. To each side ancient cobwebs hung in curtains between huge stone pillars.

Impressive. Spectacular even. But hanging out here was using up serious lazing time around the pool. On his little visit he had wandered behind a high wooden screen and now found himself directly behind the altar in a chilly, window-less, semi-circular space. Was there a way out here?

With eyes now accustomed to the dark he saw several large metal birdcages hanging in a line behind the altar and wondered, what kind of creatures, if any, could have ever lived in this darkness?

Jack came close to the first ‘birdcage’ and froze. They weren’t birdcages. They were human ribcages. Ribcages on chains.

It was all he could do to stifle a scream. He ran blindly at the nearest stone wall, not just to escape the gloomy cold and the choking dust but desperate to put as much distance between himself and that shocking vision of bones.

When he opened his eyes seconds late he was standing outside in the churchyard between two coffin-shaped graves.

Why were bits of dead people hanging up inside an abandoned church? He hurried down the path. One thing was for certain, he had absolutely no intention of ever returning to that mysterious, bone filled room.

At the end of Church Road Jack stopped to pull on his t-shirt. He noticed that a couple of people, a man and a woman in a car, were watching him. Strange. He hoisted his bag over a shoulder and they kept watching as he began to jog along the pavement. The last time two people in a car watched like this one of them got out with a gun.

Their car engine started up and they drove past Jack, heading out of the village. Panic over, Jack thought and slowed down only to see the car bounce up on the pavement nearby and shudder to a halt. Whoever these people were the driver was really hopeless. When Jack came alongside them a tall and gangly man got out of the car and stood by the bonnet with a large map in his hands. His partner, a woman struggled with her seatbelt but finally she opened the door and wandered over to join the man.

‘I do nurt berlieve this useless merp,’ the man said in a peculiar French accent.

They looked like a couple of smart middle-aged European tourists who were lost on their travels.

‘Durn’t blame moi. It wurs a grande mistak to leave zer moterway,’ the woman said. She took a cigarette out of her purse and tried to light it but missed because the end kept bobbing about in her lips. When she finally managed to bring the flame and cigarette together she nearly choked.

Talk about an odd couple. The man’s hair was either very badly dyed or he was wearing a dreadfully cheap wig. The strange Frenchman winked at Jack.

‘Zut alors. We will niver faind the famerz Stratferd upern the Arvern place. I lurv yer William Shakeyspur,’ the coughing woman said.

Jack thought, that’s just the kind of stupid accent Nance, my grandmother, does when she’s making fun of French people.

’I zink I sherd zrow zis sturpid map into, ‘ow do you say it in the Anglais? Into a rubbish burket!’ the man in the wig complained. He was holding the United Kingdom map out at arms length as if it were covered in Bubonic Plague.

Jack thought, that the man in the shiny suit sounded just like Grampus doing his Inspector Clouseau impression.

‘Gram ….’ He started but just managed to stop from blurting out the name. It was his grandparents. They had come to Hanston to rescue him. Yes! Goodbye Anax and his crazy crew. Hello freedom.

But Jack hesitated. He wasn’t sure that, if he jumped in the car, they would all make it to the end of Church Street. Ursula said quite clearly that the Nomas were ready to kill him if necessary. There was no way that would he risk Nance and Grampus getting hurt.

‘Can I help you, sir?’ Jack politely asked Grampus.

‘Oui. Per’aps you can. This looks like a ver’ nice little villarge. Nice and safe. No terrble donjers. Do you habite ‘ere?’

‘I’m staying here, for a few days, with my friends.’

’Tres bon. Are yer ‘aving a nice time?’

‘I’m ok.’

They exchanged the tiniest of nods and Grampus smiled.

‘Yerng man. I werd like to zrow away zis ursless merp of Ingerland!’

‘I’d be happy to do that for you, sir.’

‘Zank yer ver’ ver’ murch, yerng man.’

Nance smiled. Without another word, the two old people jumped into their hired car and drove out of the village.

Jack was still standing there when a noisy moped, ridden by someone in a familiar yellow helmet, whizzed past and swung into The Manor house driveway. That was definitely Elvis.

Quickly stuffing the map from Grampus and Nance safely in his bag Jack was certain of one thing: they had sent him a message and it would be wrapped up in that map. Good. Now all he to do was find somewhere private to read it. But it could wait for now.

After seeing the bones in the church and meeting Nance and Grampus he had changed his mind about sun bathing on a lilo.

It was time for some serious answers to some serious questions.