Chapter 7

Murphy thought initially he was in the exact same place he had been standing before he had blinked – everything seemed the same. The stone bridge, the specific stone with the copperplate T was still there and Jake and Jacobi were holding onto it as before. It was as he looked down at his feet that he noticed the first difference. Instead of the dirt road he had been on Murphy was most surprised to see concrete pavers underneath his feet. He realised also that he could hear the sounds of lots of people talking, walking and generally buzzing around coming from the edges of the supposedly new tunnel he found himself in.

He Jake and Jacobi headed left out of the tunnel towards the light and presumably the street outside. Murphy was bracing himself all of the time as he had no idea what to expect. One thought really excited him however: Jacobi had said “London” – maybe he would get to see his friends John and Sasha on this trip! He eagerly hurried towards the exit of the tunnel.

He found himself in a bustling and busy street with people hurrying past him in both directions. He could see people chattering away to themselves it seemed on all sides, much as he’d seen businessmen do into mobile phones before. They all seemed to be in such a hurry, the movement and noise of them made him feel a little dizzy at first. He looked around some more, trying to get his bearings. He was in a busy street in London suddenly, far away from the quiet village and country lanes he had almost gotten used to finding himself in before. He was still quietly baffled, but was just glad to be anywhere other than Whitleby to be totally honest.

He looked more closely at the people jostling by him as they made their way down the street: they were, as he had thought earlier, talking to themselves. He could see no other explanation for it. He tried hard not to stare and stare at the smartly dressed man in a pinstripe suit and bowler hat coming towards him having a very heated conversation with no one as he walked on by. Or the mum with her baby in a pushchair talking to herself also. Jake and Jacobi were paying no attention to anyone around them at all, so he assumed this must be considered totally normal behaviour with them. Especially as everyone almost as far as the eye could see was doing much the same thing. He filed this away in his brain as something he should ask about once he got the opportunity.

They were heading towards the business district Murphy assumed as the buildings on either side of him seemed to be getting taller and more imposing as they walked. It was at this point that Murphy really started to look up at the buildings around him. What he saw made him want to duck and run out of the way. Office after office was piled one on top of the other, all in different styles with some looking very precariously balanced on the property beneath them. They were all different  sizes too you see – and they weren’t stacked according to that  either. You had huge impressive looking steel framed offices with floor to ceiling windows sitting atop tiny little offices with more conventional bricks and mortar walls with average size windows. There were more flamboyant offices in all the colours of the rainbow it seemed – some in the Spanish style he had seen on holiday: the bumpy walls, oval windows and vivid colours of Gaudi. Others were in a more Moroccan style, with terracotta walls and large windows. The result of this was a series of buildings which tottered on their foundations and gently seemed to sway in the breeze. Which everyone else around him seemed to be totally OK with – in fact, they didn’t really give the buildings a second glance at all. Murphy wondered how exactly these Montalians could live in London and still not be known to any of the humans living here also. How was that possible? Surely someone would have noticed. They would certainly have noticed the buildings even if they didn’t notice the people.

Murphy was straining hard to stop himself from just gawking and staring at everything around him. It was truly breathtaking – he felt totally in awe of what he was seeing. Buildings that seemed about to fall down around him – indeed, buildings that by all logical argument should not have been able to be built – were all around him. As he wandered on further, only dimly aware of keeping Jake and Jacobi in his sights lest he get totally lost, he stared upwards in disbelief. He could see a miniature Taj Mahal up ahead, on top of which he saw what could only be described as a Circus tent of the red and white stripy variety. It's doorway flapped idly in the breeze as he wandered underneath it's swaying, tottering form. How in the world could that have gotten there? Was he quietly hallucinating? He wouldn't be at all surprised if he was hallucinating this entire experience. This entire day – or was it night time? It should be after all...... maybe he was dreaming. Maybe that was it. Maybe. He would wake up soon to no doubt the pouring rain lashing the windows of his house in Whitleby. Maybe he might even prefer the dream.......

*

They arrived at their destination as they rounded the next bend in the road. Around which corner another little surprise awaited him. If he had thought the people were a little strange, the traffic here was most certainly not what he had expected. Bicycles – every colour, shape and size imaginable. There were single bicycles powering down the road with suited and booted passengers along for the ride. There were whole families sharing bicycles and having obviously friendly conversations whilst they were at it. Which isn't all that strange really. But when he realised that no one seemed to be pedalling these bikes, then he really started to wonder. They all had pedals – where else would they rest their feet? But no one was using them. The bikes seemed to propel themselves along the street quite happily under their own steam entirely.

They also seemed to leave behind them a kind of vapour trail almost. A little like the white smoke the Red Arrows use in their displays. Murphy got the impression of the bikes acting almost as rubbers as they pootled along, erasing any dirt or pollution in their wake.  The air and the sky certainly seemed to be clearer and brighter as they passed through it. Which is in fact exactly what the bikes do, as Jake explained when he asked him. “Pretty cool huh?” Jake asked with a grin. Pretty cool indeed thought Murphy, but satisfied himself with a nod in Jake's direction. They had most definitely arrived as Jacobi was disappearing through a glass door of a very tall building indeed. They were being ushered inside of it somewhat impatiently, Jacobi no doubt wondering what the big hold up was. It's not as though anything was a little strange here right? Yeah, right thought Murphy. Nothing to see here at all. Sheesh.

So, he did what any boy of his age in a foreign country – maybe even on an alien planet – would do: he followed them inside. And once more silenced the little voice in his head that was growing bigger and bigger by the minute. What harm could it do? How bad could it really be? He felt relatively safe here with Jake. Jacobi he wasn't so sure of though – he smiled as he walked past him through the door he was holding open for him. Jacobi was an entirely unknown entity to him at this point, and an impatient one at that.

Jacobi shut the door smartly behind them and took off into the main lobby of the building they were in towards the lift. He was all business like and efficient it seemed, and there wasn't a moment to waste at all. Wherever it was they were headed to it seemed Jacobi was eager to get himself and them there.

We scurried along behind him, Jake and me, as fast as my curiosity would allow. All over the lobby were so many interesting people. I wanted to stop and take it all in. I also wanted to try and check out the signs to see if I could figure out where exactly we were heading for. No such luck. It seems when you travel with a Montalian you have to travel fast. And Murphy was already falling way behind.

He reached the lift just in time, as the doors closed right behind him. Jacobi tutted with impatience and Jake grinned. He really was holding Jacobi up today it seemed. As they headed up through the different floors Murphy got a chance to catch a glimpse of what was actually going on in the building. They stopped with the usual ping on floor four where two of the tallest men he had ever seen got into the lift with them and continued the journey upwards. They wore cream and brown robes and little round flat caps, patterned and embroidered all around the edges in a style Murphy had never seen before.

They talked between themselves, barely even noticing that there was anyone else there. There was no way the other passengers in the lift could eavesdrop their conversation however: they were talking so quickly and in the kind of native tongue that only a native could follow. Lots of “kuh” and “chuh” sounds and almost constant gesturing with their long and descriptive hands. They were it seemed having a very heated debate about something. What they were debating Murphy couldn't even begin to guess.

They got out of the lift only two floors later, and left the other occupants with a slight ringing in their ears. It was tough work being in a small, echoey metal box with those guys – thank goodness they hadn't been going all the way to the top along with them. Which Murphy now realised they were: going al the way to the top. The lift stopped on a few more floors and other characters made their way into and out of their personal space with varying degrees of intrusion. A lady got into the lift wearing a hugely flowing gown and the tallest hat Murphy had ever seen. EVERY time she moved she was seriously in danger of hitting one of them with the pointy end of it. Another was followed in and immediately surrounded by the thickest fog of the most sickly perfume he had ever smelled. In such a small space it very quickly became very hard to breathe. They covered their mouths as discreetly as possible and tried not to cough –  or even worse to gag. How could the woman herself be so utterly unaffected by this? After all, she was at the very epicentre of the perfume cloud. Surely she should be feeling it the most.

As she exited the lift they breathed an audible sigh of relief, greedily sucking in the fresher air outside of the lift before the doors could close on them. They felt they had had a very close call there with suffocation. They were so happy to be given back their ability to breath. Thankfully they didn’t have much longer to wait in that lift anyway.  Two more floors and they had arrived. Jacobi strode purposefully out onto the landing leaving the others with little choice but to follow him out there. Murphy took his one hundred and fifty six thousandth calming breath as he followed Jacobi down an unknown corridor to goodness knows where. How bad could it possibly be after all? It can’t seriously be any weirder than it already has been for him. Or so he hoped.

They came to an abrupt halt outside of an office door. Brown wood, looked perfectly normal. Nothing to fear here. The name on the door was a little unusual however: His Excellency the Royal Misoman Emperor of State (and all things human related). Interesting – very interesting. That was one heck of a title for any man. One heck of a title. All things human related. All things? How was that possible? For one man? Very strange. Very strange indeed. Or in fact very ordinary. After all, everything here was ultimately strange.

Jacobi knocked on the door and an extremely deep voice answered that he should enter. Murphy would know soon enough about the man who owned this impressive top floor office.

*

When he sat down in a vacant chair in front of a very big and important looking desk he found himself face to face with the biggest smile he had ever seen. This most excellent Misoman was clearly an exceptionally friendly person (or indeed a very good liar). He felt at ease though – he didn’t sense anything scary or dishonest about this man. He seemed honest and very much glad to see them.

“How are you my friends?” Misoman beamed at the assembled group in his office as though they were all old acquaintances. Never mind the fact that he had literally just that second met Murphy. He smiled to himself at this did Murphy – he liked Misoman already.

“I hope you had a pleasant trip here,” Misoman continued with a twinkle in his eye. “I have been looking forward to meeting with you – it promises to be a very interesting conversation and an interesting time in our history. This new agreement I have very high hopes for personally. I think you will be a valuable asset to us here Murphy. No doubt about that.” Misoman smiled around the group and seemed really happy with the current situation. Murphy just felt even more baffled than before. What exactly was going on here? What were they trying to sign him up to?

“Ah my friend. You are wondering however about what exactly you will be doing as an asset to our little community, no? A very good question indeed, and it is indeed my honour and my pleasure to explain it to you.” Misoman had a very roundabout way of talking- each of his sentences seemed to go on a huge journey before they reached their conclusion but he did seem genuine in his intentions for Murphy and in his affection for his role. Murphy decided right then and there he would trust him.

“Now Murphy. Let me explain to you all that is expected of you when you move between our two worlds. We are in need of a liaison – a go between for our two peoples. We have had many of these wonderful people over the years, and indeed our own people also travel between the two worlds when necessary. It is important in order to keep our two worlds working in harmony together (and yet still separately) that we do keep up this spirit of co-operation among those in the know.” Misoman smiled warmly – he was really all smile to be honest. That was the biggest, most important part of him. It was his most impressive and overwhelming feature really. He was pretty much all smile. His deep, warm voice only served to emphasise that to anyone who cared to look and listen.

“Now, your roles will be very important. You will be key to our efforts to stay a secret from most of the human race, and you will also act as our eyes and ears - alerting us to any potential dangers or issues we need to take care of. You will be our key witness and our confidante at the same time. You will be steadfast and trustworthy but also sneaky and evasive when we need you to be. You will be a walking talking contradiction, no?” Misoman laughed loudly at this, throwing his head back and really letting loose with a big laugh all the way down to his belly. “It sounds difficult I am sure. What we are asking of you can be difficult at times. But we have faith in you – we believe you will be able to succeed at this. If not we would never have chosen you.”

Murphy found himself smiling confidently. He was sure he could do it too. Wait a minute: did that thought really just fleet across his mind? Where on earth did it come from if so? He thought he could do what exactly? His “job description” was exceptionally vague – possibly the vaguest job description he had every heard. What exactly in real terms did they expect him to do? What exactly was this role he was expected to fulfil? How on earth could he be honest and sneaky at the same time? The mind boggled – it really did. He decided it was time for him to speak – he had done too much listening already.

“Are you asking me to be some kind of spy?” Murphy though he had it here. All that sneaking around between different peoples and different worlds. He would be a spy. That would be his new role.

Misoman frowned. He was clearly a little uncomfortable with that word in particular. Although he did kind of shrug whilst answering, so Murphy figured he couldn’t be too far wrong. A spy – now that sounded kind of exciting. The kind of thing he would really want to take part in.

“Not so much a spy Murphy – we wouldn’t want to be thought of as spying on the human race – that would be very bad. Very, very bad.” Misoman shook his head and rubbed his chin in a thoughtful way. He was clearly looking for a way to phrase this just right so that he wouldn’t come across as some kind of bad guy. “ We need someone to be our eyes and ears. Someone who can easily go to places and observe things that we can’t always see. It is very difficult for us to move around in the human world during the day time – in fact we can’t really do that at all without drawing a huge amount of attention to ourselves. Therefore, during the daylight hours we need someone who can keep an eye on things for us. Someone who can make sure our operations are running smoothly. Someone who can vouch for us. At night time we need the opposite really. We need someone who will keep us from being detected. Night time is when we are most active, when we do most of our work. We need to be able to do that work undected. You will help us with that Murphy. This is probably the most tricky aspect of our work here. We have to keep ourselves a secret both for our own safety and well being and for the safety and well being of the human race.”

Murphy needed to take all of this in really. He needed time which he realised he didn’t really have. The sun was setting outside of the window, and he knew this meant he had to return to the real world. To return home.

*

Chapter 6

Chapter 6.


Murphy found himself on the same dusty road he had been on when he arrived. The sun was still shining in the sky, and people were still going about their day to day business all around him. He felt like his eyes were out on stalks as he walked along behind Jake and Jacobi. He just couldn’t stop himself from looking around at everything. He was literally drinking in his surroundings, and he felt pretty soon he would find himself to be drunk!

First of all, every person here was so small. They were all his height or smaller – adults and children alike. They pottered around wearing very old fashioned clothing. They looked like something out of one of his beloved history textbooks. The men wore cloth trousers and shirts, the trousers made of a suede material, the shirts of a kind of cotton, and they had matching suede slipper type shoes in the same colour and material as their trousers. All of the colours were browns, beiges, greens – natural colours. They looked like they had made them out of the very landscape around them. They were clearly hard working people who took pride in themselves and their appearances. He wondered to himself whether they always dressed this way, or whether they were in their work clothes at the moment, for they were clearly all busy working on one thing or another. There were some chopping wood, some collecting branches and leaves, some working what looked like huge water mills attached to their homes and others wheeling around barrows full of building materials was his best possible description of the contents. Materials to build what exactly he wasn’t sure.

He continued on his way to he knew not where, following Jake more by good luck than by good management. He was so busy looking around him it was a wonder he didn’t end up getting himself irreversibly lost. The women here were also hard at work, wearing lovely dresses in the same kinds of materials as the men. They all seemed to favour having their hair plaited so that it was away from their faces, which made his heart lurch a little. It was exactly the way his mum had worn her hair most of the time. The women were carrying around the chopped logs, taking them into their homes and collecting up the branches and leaves also. They seemed to be surrounded by children too, each woman was obviously responsible for at least three children who fussed around them trying to help often (but actually getting in the way) and playing children’s games. Games he actually recognised; skipping, hopscotch, tag – they were just like any other young children he had met. Except they were really tiny. They scampered around the women happily, dressed in miniature versions (or even more miniature versions) of the adults clothing. Everywhere he looked, people seemed happy, and the whole area had an air of contentment wrapped around it. It seemed almost like a kind of sanctuary. A family sanctuary where people would move specifically to raise their youngsters.

At this point, Murphy noticed that they seemed to be walking straight through this village. He found that the cottages at the side of the road were becoming fewer and further between and that the road ahead was surrounded by nothing but fields, with what he supposed were farm houses in the distance. He caught up to Jake now that there wasn’t so much to divert his attention.

“So, Jake – when did you first hear about this world – the Montalians? Was it when you went missing back in June? Or did you know before then?” Murphy was curious about Jake, about what had brought him here.

“I have always known about the Montalians – I am one in fact.” Murphy’s face must have registered some kind of shock, as Jake was looking at him in amusement. “I know this is all such a shock to you, and there is a lot you still don’t know. We Montalians, as Jacobi rightly said, live in isolation from the human race, with only a select few knowing of our existence. We do however have to keep in touch with what is happening amongst the humans. One of the ways we are able to do that is by living amongst them, albeit in disguise. Because of our size and appearance, this is most easily done by appearing in the human world as children. It’s not easy to do – it involves some memory modification charms and other magic’s, but in this way we can keep up with developments more easily and therefore work better with you all. So, we send a few of our own to live as human children and to report back on what they discover in the human world. There are lots of us living with families all over the world. I am one of the ones chosen for this duty. It is a great honour to be able to live with the humans as one of their own.”

Murphy’s mind was reeling: Jake wasn’t human? “So, how old are you then really? You can’t be a child right? They wouldn’t send in a child to do this kind of work would they?”

“No, you are right Murphy. I am in human terms, around forty years old.” Jake let that sink in for a little while. He was worried that Murphy’s head might literally explode if he had to take in any more information at the moment. “But, I am able to pass for a child in the human world, and I love my job there. I have also come to love my human family. It really pains me to see them so distressed at the moment. I know that they think I am missing.” Jake’s face had fallen and he looked really upset. “Yes, that wasn’t part of the plan at all. It was a very hurried return to my home village – my grandfather has recently passed away – that prompted me to leave in such a rush. Normally, when I have to report back it is planned in advance. I attend a summer camp, weekend trip or visit some relatives elsewhere and my human parents are then none the wiser. But this time it was such a rush – the memory charms we left behind for mum and dad obviously didn’t work. And now they are so worried about me. It’s really dreadful.” Jake sighed deeply.

Murphy was still kind of struggling to take all of this in really. His friend (albeit not a really close friend – more of an acquaintance actually), smiley Jake, was in fact someone else entirely. And where he was really from, he was actually old enough to be my father! It was enough to seriously boggle the mind. How could his parents not know about this? How could they be so blind? They really never questioned when he disappeared for sometimes weeks at a time? It just didn’t seem right somehow. Although his excuses were pretty realistic he supposed: children did go away to camps and relatives all of the time. “How often do you come here? You can’t do it all of the time or people would get suspicious wouldn’t they?” Murphy still couldn’t quite believe that Jake had gotten away with this for such a long time.

“You’re right – I only visit when it’s really necessary. I have other ways of communicating at other times.” Jake smiled at Murphy and waved – just as he had that day in the mirror! Murphy understood: the mirrors can be used to communicate and to travel. How very clever.

Murphy looked up at the road ahead and saw a bridge over the road he was walking. It was the kind of bridge that was so rounded that if it carried on under the road it would form a perfect circle, and as you walked towards it you had the feeling you were heading down a tunnel to somewhere else entirely. It was made of creamy sandstone and each brick seemed to Murphy to have been carefully placed and designed to form that exact structure and arch before him. It was a lovely old bridge, set in amongst the green fields surrounding it, and Murphy felt he would have liked to have stopped and painted the scene. He knew it was definitely a scene his mother would have enjoyed. Trying to capture the vivid greens, and blues and yet capturing the subtlety of the sandstone and keeping it as the focal point for the painting would have been a real pleasure. He sensed that there wouldn’t exactly be time for painting on this occasion however.

They were heading as a group directly under the bridge and Murphy looked up to see the intricately crafted underside of the structure also. Everything looked so well thought out, with each individual brick seeming hand carved and measured for it’s individual spot. He could see they were heading for a particular area, exactly halfway along the wall of the tunnel they now found themselves in. They wouldn’t be clearly be visible from either end: it had obviously been designed with exactly that in mind. The depth of the bridge was perfectly proportioned so that at this mid point they had some level of invisibility towards any onlookers. Murphy registered this information almost subconsciously as he huddled round a curious looking stone with a large copperplate T written on it. They had formed a tight circle holding hands without Murphy even realising. Murphy looked from Jacobi to Jake apprehensively: he wasn’t sure of what was about to happen but he had a feeling it would yet again be something new (to him at least). He took a deep breath and readied himself for whatever may come next.
Jacobi cleared his throat and in a loud, clear voice said “London.” Murphy blinked and his whole world changed once more.

*

chapter 5......

Chapter 5.
It was bedtime and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Murphy was contentedly brushing his teeth and heading in the direction of his room and his bed. Tired as he was, he had enjoyed his day really – especially having one of his favourite lessons – History with Mr Devine. He had had a lovely tea with his dad and Darla – sausages and mash – and had spent the evening watching the TV: a lazy indulgence which his dad didn’t always allow him to be honest.
He made his way along the corridor and for some reason instead of heading straight for his room, something made him turn towards the staircase and that mirror. It seemed that, despite his experiment he still had not lost his fascination with it. Or his confusion and disbelief at what he saw in it. He approached the mirror carefully and quietly, almost afraid that he might scare something/someone away if he made too much of a noise. He peered into the mirror cautiously: nothing. He sighed and smiled to himself ruefully. Why could he not just give up on this? It was so silly.
He turned and headed for his bedroom and began the process of clearing a path to his bed: clothes, school stuff and other assorted paraphernalia were blocking his way at the moment. He fought his way over there: why did he never think of how tired he would be at bedtime when he just dumped his stuff all over after school? Maybe because he was so tired at that point too. He had just about managed to clear a path when something caught his eye: a movement, or what seemed like a flash of light. He whipped round to see where it had come from and before he could do anything about it he found himself being dragged and drawn in the most peculiar way, against his own will. His feet weren’t moving at all and in fact his whole body was pretty much frozen in shock. He was being dragged towards a light in the corner of his room – he couldn’t explain it at all. He tried to cry out but found that his mouth wouldn’t co-operate with him. Nothing came out at all. Then he realised where he was being drawn towards. The mirror in the corner of his room.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than he was tipped unceremoniously into the mirrors surface. He braced himself as he approached the hard surface but there was no need to: he fell right through it as though it were liquid. He felt like he was falling for the longest time. Lights swirled around him and he felt dizzy and disorientated. He still found he was unable to make a sound as he fell, and there was nothing he could grab onto to stop himself. Wherever he was heading for, he would land there with a bump – that was for sure. The speed he was travelling was a real worry, and he seemed to be speeding up as he went along. The falling sensation ended as abruptly as it started. He suddenly found himself standing quite unharmed in the middle of a dusty country road. It was daytime wherever he was (which he vaguely registered in his brain as not being quite right) and he was surrounded by thatched cottages and fields. He had absolutely no idea of where he was at that moment and no concept of how he’d gotten there. One minute he was fighting his way towards his bed past his clothes and other bits and pieces: the next he was in what appeared to be at least a different county, if not another country altogether. He looked around him cautiously, his head still spinning from the journey here. As his eyes began to focus he could see more of what surrounded him, and more of the people milling around, seemingly going about their daily business. Seemingly totally uninterested in the young boy who had just appeared within their midst.
He rotated slowly on the spot to get a better view and jumped in shock. He came face to face once again with Jake, smiling as ever. He tried to form some words, ask some questions, but his mouth still wouldn’t co-operate with him at all. It was like it had shut down altogether.
“Hi Murphy. Long time no see,” Jake was holding out a hand to him, smiling nervously at the sight of him so stunned and confused, “Did you get here OK? You’re not hurt are you?”
Murphy quickly checked himself over: no visible damage and he felt OK. Well, despite the overwhelming sense of confusion and bewilderment. If you put that to one side though, he was definitely OK. Murphy blinked at Jake stupidly: he was still waiting for an answer.
“Yeah,” Murphy had to clear his throat, but finally his voice was working. “I’m OK, I think. What just happened? Where am I?” Murphy felt like his head might explode with all of the questions swimming in it. What had just happened to him and how did he end up here?

“You look totally shocked – let’s go and sit down and get you a drink. We can talk about it all then. You have a lot to catch up on, and lots of new things to learn.” With that, Jake led Murphy off down the dusty road towards the cottage on the corner of the street. It was a lovely place with roses around the door, a lovely little garden, and he could see when he peeked in the windows that it had all of the usual furniture, ornaments and other nice things you would expect to see in a cottage like that. That was at least a relief to him – he didn’t know where he was or how he’d quite gotten there (he was already talking himself out of the notion that he’d travelled through the mirror in his bedroom) but at least where he was being taken to seemed normal and friendly.
Jake knocked on the door and waited, and gradually the sounds of someone pottering around inside became louder and louder as they approached the doorway where they were. The door opened very very slowly, and it looked to Murphy as though it had opened on it’s own. He found himself backing away slightly, but at the same time he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the door itself. Who or what had opened it? Why couldn’t he see them? Murphy’s head started to spin wildly once more.

*

The next thing he was aware of was the feel of a nice comfortable pillow under his head, and of whispered talk going on in the room around him. Murphy felt relief whoosh through him: he had been dreaming, that was all. He must be in his bed now with his dad and Darla making sure he was ok. He opened his eyes, ready to tell his dad all about his crazy dream - only to find himself face to face with it once more. Jake was standing off to the left of him talking in whispers to a man he couldn’t quite see. He was guessing he must be the man who had opened the door to them. It was all coming back to him now – the journey through the mirror, the strange place he found himself in somehow in the middle of the day when it had been night time. Jake being here – missing Jake. The Jake he had seen in his bedroom mirror. It was all completely NUTS! He struggled to keep himself calm – he had obviously fainted away outside – there was no point in him fainting again. He took some deep breaths and tried very slowly to piece it all together in his mind. He’d been at home about to get into bed. He’d found himself somehow pulled towards his mirror in his room until he fell right through it as though it was liquid, not solid. He’d fallen down what felt like a long chute which was full of swirling lights and shapes and had made him feel exceptionally dizzy. He had then landed in the middle of a dusty country lane, in the middle of the day, surrounded by people (exceptionally small people now he came to think of it) and cottages he had never seen before. When he’d turned around, Jake had been standing there – smiling as per usual. They had then headed to this cottage he was in now, knocked on the door and Murphy had fainted at the idea of what or who was inside. That was about the size of it so far. Another deep breath had to be taken, and let out in a huge sigh. Murphy was struggling to remember a time when he hadn’t been totally baffled and confused. Really struggling.
At the sound of his sigh no doubt, Jake and his companion turned to him, all smiles and happy to see him awake. Murphy tried to force a small smile in return but found that nothing would come. That vaguely paralyzed feeling had stolen over him once more.
“Hi Murphy, how you feeling? Any better?” Jake was sitting next to him now, smoothing down the little blanket Murphy realised had been put over him. The other person seemed to be keeping out of the way for fear of scaring Murphy once again. “You really fell with a bang just then – you’re not hurt anywhere are you?”
Murphy ran a mental checklist up and down himself – all seemed to be in order. “No. I’m not hurt. Just really really confused. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, or what’s going on,” Murphy seemed (finally) to have found his voice. “I just seemed to land here after some really bizarre stunt with my mirror and nobody has told me why or even asked my permission actually,” Murphy was now getting to be quite cross, “And I demand an explanation. Right now. And if I don’t get one then I’ll be leaving straight away. I didn’t sign up for this at all, whatever this is, and I’m not going to let myself be kidnapped or whatever just for someone else’s entertainment.” Murphy had sat up by this time, and had his arms folded across his chest and an extremely indignant look on his face. There was an edge of fear to him which hadn’t quite been there before. It had settled on his chest at exactly the same moment as he’d said the word kidnapped. He silently hoped and prayed that this wasn’t what was happening to him. It certainly would explain why the local missing boy was here with his parents and half of Whitleby frantically looking for him.
“Ok, Murphy, ok. You deserve and explanation and you will get one I promise. This will all make sense to you, I hope once you’ve heard it. Just stay calm and try not to get upset. We are not going to hurt you.” Jake looked really concerned about Murphy as he sat carefully next to him on the sofa. He hadn’t expected Murphy to faint, or for him to come round feeling so upset and fed up about the whole thing. He was quite shocked really at Murphy’s reaction. He just hadn’t thought of the situation being interpreted like that. “I’m going to let my friend Jacobi here,” Jake was indicating the little guy who’d obviously let them in with his arm, “he’s going to fill you in on all of this, as he knows much more than I do. Jacobi?” Jake handed over to his friend who smiled winningly at Murphy, his thumbs tucked into the braces holding up his worn old trousers. He strode forwards self importantly, turning out his black booted feet as he went, only stopping when he was directly in front of Murphy. At which point he rocked on his heels a moment and seemed to settle himself in, ready to begin what Murphy feared may be a long explanation.
“Murphy my boy – very good to meet you. My name is Jacobi, as Jake here told you already, and I am an elder of the townspeople here. It is part of my job to welcome new arrivals and to make introductions and explain circumstances as and when necessary.” He rocked a little once more, running his thumbs up and down his bright red braces in a satisfied manner. “Now, you are wondering about lots of things right now – how you got here, where here is, when you will be going back home, and why you have been sent here not someone else. I will aim to answer all of these questions in a logical and straightforward manner. I would like to point out to you that you will be returning home: we definitely haven’t kidnapped you. Ok?” Jacobi looked over at Murphy for confirmation of his understanding and he nodded back, feeling exceptionally relieved.
“Very good, then, very good. I will begin my story at the beginning – or at the very least very near to it. Try to keep up my boy – you will be learning a lot today about things which most people know nothing about. You are privileged, but with that privilege comes a great responsibility. I hope you are up to facing that responsibility.” At that, he took a very deep breath, looking around the room. His eyes focussed on a chair on the opposite wall. He held up his hand, palm open, fingers outstretched. He didn’t even have to utter a word and suddenly the chair moved over to him and settled itself at his feet. He dusted off the top of the seat, sat himself down and Jacobi began his tale.

*

Way, way back in the history of the earth, in the forgotten times – the lost age – my people (the Montalians) lived alongside yours. We lived a simple and happy existence, with each providing for the other. What one race could not do, the other did for them and vice versa. We did a lot for your kind, but they were grateful and gracious in their acceptance of our help.
Naturally, they were the race in charge of the earth – they are it’s custodians after all. It is their given right and responsibility – we have others. So we submitted to their rule, their regulations and in return received their shelter, company and friendship. Life was good for both races, and the earth’s population was a contented one. Unfortunately, this happiness wasn’t able to last.
As I said, we used our skills, and your people used theirs to work together for the greater good. But then your people changed. It’s hard to describe really; some of them became more ambitious than ever before and therefore saw some of our skills as a potential threat, which they never had done previously. They started to spread suspicion among the others and soon the two races began to drift apart from one another, with settlements of houses becoming distinctly separate. My people returned to the mountains which were originally their homes (hence our name) and yours continued to make your villages, towns and cities in the lower plains of the land. It was a fairly slow and gradual process, but in comparison to how long the two races had lived side by side in harmony it seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.
Now, my people certainly weren’t all blameless in what followed. Some were, but others….. well, I’ll let you hear the whole story and you can make your mind up yourself. In response to these people spreading sometimes terrible rumours about us there were those among the montalians who wanted to teach the human race a lesson. They wanted to show people what we were capable of and to make them submit to our rule and law. This was a huge mistake and a grave error. That was never the way this was meant to be. We all took a sacred oath back when we were introduced to one another that the human race were in charge of and responsible for ruling and using the earth in the most responsible way possible. The montalian race were the cinquicians. Their role was a different one. They were to use their skills and powers to assist the human race in their achievements and their control of the earth’s resources, but they were never to rule. It was feared that if the montalians ever did rule the earth then their powers would make them eventually into tyrants who ruled through fear. It was thought that would be a natural reaction from the humans to a race with so much more power than their own. And obviously, the montalians didn’t want to have another race of people in fear of them, so they happily submitted to the idea of being second in command rather than the leaders of the earth.
This was the way the word worked in what we call the forgotten times – the lost age. We all lived in harmony. All of that changed. Some of the montalians decided that, in response to the growing suspicion amongst the humans, they would do better to rule over them. Some of the most high powered and important families among our kind became involved in the rebellion to overthrow and ultimately enslave humanity. It was and is an intensely embarrassing period of the montalians history. About which most of my race are very much ashamed. Some of the things which were done to your people at the hands of my kind were utterly appalling and inexcusable. It also became apparent that the montalians involved had been thinking of this course of action for a long time. Way before humanity started to become more ambitious for themselves and more and more suspicious of us and our powers. There was a certain (high powered) faction of the cinquicians who had longed for and indeed plotted for power over the humans for generations. It was only this dark time which brought all of this out into the open once and for all.
The other, law abiding and oath sworn montalians rallied round the humans and protected them as best they could, but inevitably they couldn’t save them all. They set up protection for them and hunted down and captured those responsible. It took many many months of terror and some of the most catastrophic acts we montalians have ever known took place at this time. But eventually all were captured or forced into hiding and retreat. Some of those remain there to this day – hiding from the law and from the truth. Protected by their families from the punishments they so rightly deserve.
At this point Jacobi hung his head in shame and shook it very slowly. He seemed lost in his own thoughts. Murphy was struggling to keep up with what he was hearing. He had thought he knew a lot about history. It was one of his favourite subjects after all. But all of what he had just heard was entirely new to him. The lost times and a whole new race living with humans on planet earth: he had no idea how that could be possible without there being any real record of it. It all seemed crazy.
He looked around at the only other face in the room who had been privy to this lesson in apparently forgotten history: Jake. He was looking sad and troubled too, much like Jacobi. There was no hint on his face of disbelief or of amusement. No shock, no humour in his eyes. It began to dawn on Murphy that this version of history may well be true after all. That what he had heard may well go some way towards explaining how and why he was here in this strange place. He looked to Jacobi and met his eye. He nodded: that was the cue for Jacobi to continue the story. The room was darkening as he continued, and with a click of his fingers the lamps in the room were lit, surrounding and suffusing them with a soft glow. With a deep breath he continued on.
So, it was a pretty dire time for all of us here on Earth. The two races were almost entirely in opposition, and the sheer amount of suspicion between us was overwhelming. The human race had lost almost all of their trust in us, and communities began to segregate. Montalians tended to reconstruct their houses together in districts, withdrawn from the communities of humans and living close by but with very little if any interaction between the two. Only the minimum of contact was preserved. The humans on the whole couldn’t forgive the Montalians for the way they had tortured and abused them during this reign of terror, and the Montalians who were left were the ones who hadn’t actually participated in any of the atrocities anyway. It made for an uneasy truce between the two races, which would only have needed the tiniest spark of a conflict to ignite it once more.
The Council of the Cinquicians was called and it was agreed amongst them all that the two races could no longer live harmoniously side by side. The Montalian race had lost touch with the human race and could not expect to live in the same way they had once enjoyed. None of the Montalians wanted to leave the Earth however, as they still felt it was their sacred, oath sworn duty to continue to assist the humans in protecting the planet and preserving it as best they could for future generations. They didn’t want to simply leave and abandon that duty. They decided then to go into hiding. It wasn’t that difficult – most of them were living on the edges of human towns or up near the mountains anyway, so we just had to devise a fool proof way of making ourselves invisible and undetectable.
This required some powerful magic and it took the entire council’s strength to pull it off. They all had to join together in the same recitation to cloak their existence from the humans. It took a lot of consultation between the members of the council to come up with a strategy that worked, but we have lived for hundreds of years since then in almost total separation from the human race, but still able to fulfil out role in maintaining the earth. So, the magic was devised, our way of life retreated from human view, and the humans astonishingly promptly forgot all about us. We are not mentioned in your history books, no one ever disturbs our quiet but purposeful way of life, and the world continues to turn and evolve as it was meant to.
Our version of the world operates in contrast to your own: when you sleep we wake. We are charge with the task of cleaning up what we can of your messes and mistakes which would cost the earth dearly. We also protect the human race from those who might still wish to do you harm. Remember, there were families who were forced into hiding who had taken part in or supported our uprising. It cannot be forgotten that they may wish to return to their task once more and try to rule the earth as they feel they should.

Very few people know of our existence. You are one of a very privileged few who gets to see our world and be a part of it. Although I’m not sure that will seem such a privilege to you right now. Jacobi chuckled to himself at his own joke. Despite himself, Murphy found himself smiling. Somehow being privileged to see all of this did make him feel a little better. Jacobi seemed to have come to the end of his tale, or at least for now. Murphy glanced at Jake, who smiled encouragingly at him. He sensed a change of purpose in the air: they had finished telling him about things. They now wanted to show him, to get him involved. And strangely enough Murphy felt OK about that prospect. He nodded at Jake and they all got up from their seats and headed towards the door and for Murphy at least, towards the next stage of this adventure.

*

chapter 4....

Chapter 4

Mike was astounded. Truly. He had never witnessed such a reaction from his son – not even when he’d been a toddler and tantrums were almost expected. He had assumed the kids would be happy to head to his mum’s for her special cake, and indeed Darla was – very much so. Murphy on the other hand. His face fell a mile at the very suggestion. He had bargained to be left at home, and then when that hadn’t worked and Mike had simply said that Gran was expecting them so there was no way out really he had stormed off to his room with a face like thunder. A few minutes later he had appeared at the car looking very sour-faced indeed and had spent the entire afternoon in silence.
Mike was stunned. It was so unlike his son to behave this way; he really couldn’t fathom what the problem was at all. And now they had been home for a while but not a word from him at all. He hadn’t apologised – in fact he hadn’t spoken at all as far as he was aware. Just gone straight back to his portrait sketches at the top of the stairs. He was like a boy possessed. Mike sincerely hoped this wasn’t the start of teenage stroppiness coming early; he definitely wasn’t ready to start dealing with that. He’d thought he had a couple of years left before then. He sighed wearily. Maybe it was just a bad day – maybe the portrait sketches had made Murphy think of his mum, and he’d been upset to be interrupted. Maybe that was it. It would probably all blow over pretty quickly anyway. He certainly hoped so. This was not the Murphy he knew and loved.
He had settled himself immediately again in front of the mirror with his sketch pad the moment they were back in the house and hadn’t said two words to anyone. It was all very strange. Mike had been so surprised by this unexpected twist that he hadn’t even told Murphy off for being rude and stroppy. He really hoped it wasn’t the beginning of the terrible teens as he had feared. He would have to be much tougher on Murphy in the future if it was. He sighed.
“Daddy – what’s wrong?” Darla was sitting happily in his lap playing with her doll “Peaches”. She was pretending to be a mum – and doing a very good job of it in fact. The doll was all swaddled in her blankets on her knee, sleeping very soundly indeed.
“Nothing really darling. Don’t you worry,” Mike stroked her lovely blonde hair affectionately – she looked so much like her mum.
“Are you sad because of Murphy? He was in a funny mood today.” She rocked Peaches back and forth, calming her imaginary snuffles.
“He was, wasn’t he? I don’t know what’s gotten into him. We’ll have to keep and eye on him, you and me. Make sure he’s OK.”
“We will daddy, we will.” Darla snuggled into him and settled herself in for a nice long cuddle/nap. He bent and kissed the top of her head and wrapped her up in his arms contentedly. He had great kids really – he didn’t need to worry too much. He just needed to keep and eye on Murphy – that was all.

*

Murphy sat, with a grim determination and a real anger in his stomach, doggedly watching the mirror. He had given up the pretext of sketching pretty much. He had his last sketch open in front of him, and his pencil in his hand but that was it: he wasn’t actually sketching at all. Just concentrating on that mirror. He knew it was important to concentrate in order to keep up his watch successfully. And he was determined to get to the bottom of this mess. He wanted to know for certain whether he had seen Jake or not. This was the only way to do that.
He couldn’t believe his dad had dragged him off to Gran’s house for half the afternoon. Just when he managed to come up with a plan to resolve his confusion his dad makes him go out instead to eat cake! He was furious! He was certain he would have missed any events in the mirror. They would simply have waited until he was out before showing themselves. It was so frustrating – and now he was sitting in front of the same mirror, no further on than at the beginning of the day just watching his own reflection staring back at him. He sighed. He didn’t feel as though he was getting anywhere with this at all. He also, whenever he let himself think it through, felt just a little bit bonkers for doing all of this in the first place.

Still, it was only his first day at this. He couldn’t rush at it. He had known that this could well take a while to sort out, and sort it out he would. Most definitely. He just had to know what had happened: he had to prove himself sane. Whether that meant him not seeing anything else (therefore proving he hadn’t lost it) that was OK, or whether it meant him seeing something again…. he would deal with that when it became necessary to. He hadn’t really thought what he’d do in that case.
He stared moodily at the mirror trying to will something to happen. Maybe he had to want it for it to work. He concentrated with all of his might. Nothing. Mind you, when he first saw Jake he hadn’t even been thinking about it at all. He’d just been wandering along, minding his own business. Maybe that’s what he’d have to do. Pretend not to be looking after all. He got up slowly and carefully, looking like someone trying to avoid setting off a bomb, and backed away from the mirror on tiptoes. He rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and headed a little way down the landing, settling himself next to the banisters where he still had a good view of the mirror but hopefully couldn’t be seen. Maybe this was the way to get to the truth. He certainly felt much more hopeful about it.
He opened his sketchbook to a new page and started trying to sketch the staircase. Something slightly different to help him pass the time and keep him focused. Also, it was good practise for his perspective work his teacher kept nagging him about. It was his most major flaw as an artist – his use of perspective. Or his lack of it! He could never quite get it right in his mind. He had the rules and guidelines set out for him by his teacher on numerous occasions but they never seemed to stick somehow. It was very frustrating and it really limited what he could successfully reproduce.
He started to construct his page, marking out key points of his view so that he proportioned his page correctly. The edge of a stair here, a banister rail there, a picture on the right hand side. He then went into more detail, making sure to include the landing and the mirror in there also. After all, that was the main reason for him being there on the landing doing the sketch in the first place. That mirror. He chanced a glance at it out of the corner of his eye: nothing. He almost daren’t look at it directly really in case he ruined something or stopped something from happening. Quite what might happen he wasn’t all that sure. He still couldn’t quite believe he had been suckered into all of this. Why was he spending his half term keeping tabs on a mirror? It made no sense at all. But he couldn’t stop himself. His curiosity had been awakened and he simply had to know for certain if what he had seen was real. Had he seen Jake looking back at him? His mind was looping round and round in circles around this key point: he had seen Jake. Missing Jake. The boy everyone was searching so desperately for and was so convinced that they would never see again: he had seen him. Maybe that was why he hadn’t just dismissed this whole thing – he wanted to be able to bring good news – to tell everyone that Jake was alive and well, that he had found him.
He continued sketching and eying the mirror out of the corner of his eye for the rest of that day but saw nothing unusual in the mirror – only his own look of frustration. Bedtime came and went and Murphy was eventually sent off to bed by his dad, who clearly thought Murphy had gone quietly bonkers that day, as he was giving him some seriously worried looks.
Nor did Murphy notice anything unusual the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. Each day he sat at his vigil keeping watch but with no luck whatsoever. Each day he had to be forced by his dad to move from his spot on the landing in order to do anything: eat, sleep – you name it. Each day he was disappointed. As it came up to Sunday evening and school loomed over him once more Murphy was forced to admit defeat. With a heavy heart he turned, sighing, away from the mirror and started to prepare himself for his next challenge: school. He trudged off towards his room disconsolately, taking his sketch pad and pencils with him. He must have imagined it all along. He had proved it to himself now: there was nothing unusual about that mirror. He couldn’t have seen what he’d thought he had seen. It was impossible. He could now forget about it finally and move on.
At least he had tried to prove his vision – he hadn’t just taken the easy option and walked away dismissing it. He had tested his theory and found it to be wrong. It was that simple. He could move on now with no nagging doubts. No niggling thoughts plaguing him about the whole experience. Nothing to worry him at all.
With that thought in mind he headed off to bed – he would need all of the strength he could muster to get himself through tomorrow. Back to school. His shoulders sagged considerably. Another day of pure invisibility. Of lessons where he might as well not be there. Of long breaks and lunchtimes where he had nothing to do and no one to talk to at all. Still, it had to be better than spending his entire time staring at a mirror. He smiled. Silver linings were sometimes hard to find but they were worth it once you actually found them.

*

It literally felt as though his head had just hit the pillow when his alarm started screaming at him from his bedside table. Murphy groaned and groped sleepily for the source of the unpleasant noise. Eventually he silenced it and collapsed back into his pillows gratefully. Peace and quiet once more. Not for long though.
“Murphy – time to get up!” Dad was shouting from downstairs, “We don’t want to be late!”
“No we certainly don’t,” Murphy muttered to himself, “That would be awful.” School once again. How had his half term gone by so quickly? He heaved himself out of bed and headed for the bathroom, dragging his tired feet along the carpet on the way. Another day of enthralling learning was already winging its way to him – he couldn’t wait.
He stumbled his way through his morning, not really having time to stop and think. He was dressed, fed and out of the door almost before he knew it, then had to sit through Darla’s favourite songs in the car – all of which sounded identical to him: sugary nonsense with no meaning whatsoever. She loved them anyway, and sang along at the top of her voice (not using the right words of course) but enjoying every second of it. It made his head hurt just to think about it. Then he was out of the car into the wind and making a dash for the school buildings. Only once he was settled into his desk in school did he have the opportunity to think at all. In fact, he had too much opportunity: far too much. It was just him, his thoughts and his work then with no interruptions of any kind for the rest of the day. His invisibility status hadn’t changed at all during the holidays – he was still absent while present as far as his classmates were concerned.
He tried not to let it get him down but it was hard work. He was a naturally sociable person really, although he was a little bit shy with new people. Once he got to know people though he was (he thought anyway) quite good fun and more than capable of having a laugh. But nobody here seemed interested in that at all. He hadn’t been born here, he talked funny and therefore they just weren’t interested in getting to know him. Or so it seemed. It never occurred to him that they might be a bit intimidated by him and actually they would like to get to know him. After all, he had lived in London which must have been fairly exciting. He could have interesting tales to tell – they would be quite interested to know about his life down there. But they couldn’t pluck up the courage to go to him and ask. It was easier just to keep on ignoring him really. Less chance of getting their feelings hurt that way.
But Murphy knew none of this, didn’t pick up on the looks some students gave him as he walked through the corridors of the school like a ghost: blending into the background as much as possible.

It was the end of lunch time and he was sitting quietly by the window with his book open in front of him. He had read the last paragraph at least four times already. There was something about reading in a public place that he found really difficult: he could never quite settle to it somehow. He was too easily distracted by the bustle around him. Even though he knew in this case that nobody was likely to be interrupting him at all, it still disturbed his concentration. He couldn’t focus on the words he was reading, and kept on reading and re-reading them as though he was stuck in a loop. In between these repetitions he kept looking out at the wind and grey skies with a little frown. He’d give anything to see a lovely southern blue sky looking back at him. Feel the hot sun on his face. Anything other than the monotonous cold here. It really got him down sometimes.
The bell was ringing out in the corridor so he knew it was time to get himself along to his last lesson of the day: History. One of his favourites actually. He always enjoyed the lessons and his teacher Mr Devine made them fun, exciting and interesting. He learned so much that it was hard to keep it all in his head really. There was a very real danger that the new lesson would push out the old one entirely! That was part of what he loved about the lessons. They challenged him to learn new things, but also to look at things he already knew from a different angle. You could never possibly say you were finished in one of Mr Devine’s lessons: there was always more work you could do. Murphy loved that. Sometimes, he got the impression that the work Mr Devine put him onto wasn’t something he’d planned but was something he had thought of there and then in response to the questions Murphy raised, or the answers he had given to the tasks he’d completed. He loved those tasks the most. They were always interesting and challenged him in so many ways. And Mr Devine knew how to make things appeal to him personally. He often made the tasks comic strip based, which Murphy loved – coming up with comic book versions of famous historical figures. Obviously done in his own unique style with his brand of shading and colour scheme choices. In fact, a lot of his work was currently displayed on the walls of the classroom all around him, which was something which Murphy was half proud of but also a bit embarrassed about too. He loved that he was doing good work (and he had really enjoyed doing it) but he worried about what his classmates thought of him and his work. In some ways he liked to keep that side of things to himself – to keep them private. They were very personal in lots of ways and he sometimes felt a bit like he was revealing too much about himself by showing his work. He would definitely be devastated if he heard anyone saying anything about his pictures that he didn’t like. He would be really gutted if that happened. But so far, so good. He had heard some people just saying they were good pictures – in fact he’d heard someone ask who had done them. But no one seemed interested enough to say anything to him personally.
Anyway, the fact of the matter was that he loved his history lessons and couldn’t wait to get there to get stuck into some facts. He gathered up his things, stuffing his lunch box into his bag and headed off to Mr Devine’s classroom whistling under his breath. It would at least be a good afternoon and then he’d be off home again. Safe at last!

*

As always, in the lessons Murphy enjoys he finds the time flies by and before he knows what’s hit him it’s all over: this afternoon’s history session was no exception to that rule. Almost the minute it started it seemed it was over and Murphy was part of the throng of students heading out of the door towards their parents cars. Murphy could see his Gran grinning away at him from within her embarrassment-mobile, ornaments swinging away all around her. He forced a smile back (he did love her really – it was just that her car was SO embarrassing) and headed towards the front seat. Only to find Darla installed there looking smugly up at him. He sighed and headed to the back seat instead. Darla could be so annoying too.
He settled himself into his seat – at least not too many of his friends would see him sitting back here. It did mean that he had to sit with his knees virtually around his ears for the entire journey home because it was cramped back here in the little car. But never mind. At least he didn’t have to walk all the way home in the cold and the wind.
“Hi Gran,” Murphy received a grin via the rear view mirror from his Gran, “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Don’t you worry my dear – it’s a pleasure, it really is. How was school today? Did you manage to catch up with your friends after the holidays?” Gran pulled the car out into the traffic as she spoke and they were on their way home.
“Yes Gran, they’re all fine.” Murphy didn’t want to get into the whole nightmare scenario with everyone at school with his Gran: better she didn’t know about his lack of friends. It was bad enough that his Dad knew about it all and pestered him and worried about it. He couldn’t cope with his Gran starting that too.
“That’s great love. Did they do anything exciting over the holidays?” Gran was weaving through traffic, quietly oblivious of the van driver she had just cut up as she turned into the high street. Murphy caught the driver’s eye through the rear window and shrugged apologetically. His Gran really should be concentrating on her driving, not trying to talk to him. It made him nervous when she drove like this.
“No not really Gran, nothing special really. It was only a week off, so there’s not a lot you can do in that kind of time.” Murphy fished his book out of his bag and buried his head in it pointedly. He would rather not talk to her while his life was at risk in the car. Better to wait until they were at home.
The sound of Gran humming along to the oldies on her car radio meant that she had forgotten about talking and was for the moment at least concentrating on her driving. Murphy sighed in relief and started to read. It was his newest history book he had gotten from the library at lunchtime that day. He was obsessed with the Romans and there society at the moment. They had been studying it for ages in lessons at school and Mr Devine had really brought it to life for him. He thought it was amazing that they had invented so many things back then that we now took for granted in our lives. And with so much less technology to help them make those things. They must have been a nation of geniuses!
This book had plenty of pictures and artefacts reproduced in it for him to really get a feel for the place. Rome seemed a fascinating place to him, and it was definitely somewhere he would like to visit someday.
“Here we are then bookworm! Home sweet home!” Gran was unbuckling her seatbelt and helping Darla out of hers. He hadn’t even noticed that they had arrived at his house he was so absorbed with his reading. Bookworm – that was what his mum used to call him. Because he always had his head buried in some book or other. The thought made him smile.
He unbuckled himself and jumped out of the car, bringing his bag and books with him. He was glad to be home – he was so tired after his first day back at school. It was exhausting really – even though he had spent most of the day sitting behind his desk it still took it out of him. He didn’t honestly know how his teachers did it – standing there in front of their classes all day. Just trying to keep up with his own work was enough – never mind trying to keep and eye on the whole class and making sure they were all working away on the right things. Maybe that was why they were so grumpy a lot of the time....

He went straight up to his room once he got in and dumped his stuff on his bed. He had never been the kind of person who could just leave his things all over the place. He liked to know where he’d put everything and that he hadn’t lost anything. Also, he didn’t trust Darla with his things. She would be likely to be nosying in his bad and drawing all over his things no doubt. She liked to think she was doing a good thing – keeping an eye on his things and drawing him special pictures. Which sounded nice but when she had chosen to do one of her drawings on top of one of his comic book sketches he didn’t find it so amusing. She was a bit of a nuisance really and frequently got on his nerves. But she was his little sister after all: that’s what sister’s are for really.
He headed back down to the kitchen – he was really thirsty and hungry now he was home. He bounded down the stairs past the mirror (he wasn’t acknowledging its existence these days) and made a beeline for the kitchen and some milk and cookies (his Gran was very traditional in her choice of snacks). He could already hear Darla in there tucking in merrily. This would keep him going until his dad got home for dinner (or tea as they call it in Whitleby).

Chapter 3 - the story continues!!

Chapter 3.



The rest of the day passed in a kind of blur. Murphy couldn’t settle to his work again and was constantly distracted. Every little noise from outside his room made him jump up to see what was going on. He kind of felt like he had seen a ghost or something, and he was seriously spooked about it to be honest. The more he tried not to think about it the more he did. He started remembering even more worrying details. Like the fact that Jake was wearing the same clothes from the picture taken on the last day he was seen (he had been to the seafront with his family and they took a snap of him with an ice cream). And the fact that he had seen something else in the background, behind Jake himself. This was the bit which was making him feel the most worried for his state of mind – he could see in the background what seemed to be a village of some kind, with a sandy dirt lane leading off towards a thatched cottage. Except there were no thatched cottages nearby that he knew of. And, how could he possibly have seen all of that in the mirror at the top of his stairs? It just didn’t make sense.
He had been very quiet during lunch, and his dad had asked him if there was something wrong, but he just couldn’t bring himself to mention it – not to anyone. He felt like he was being an idiot for even considering it. He was trying to put it out of his mind as much as possible, but he was finding it very difficult to do. He just couldn’t get over how the Jake he had seen had smiled at him when he saw him. He stopped pacing his room – did he just? Jake smiled at him? As in, he’d seen his face move and smile? He racked his brain. He had – that is what he had seen standing there at the top of the stairs. So it was a moving, smiling Jake he had seen, staring out of their mirror from what seemed to be a different part of the country altogether. He flopped down onto his bed with a sigh. That settled matters – he was definitely going mad.
Abandoning all hope of working on his sketches that afternoon, Murphy threw on his jacket and trainers and headed for the door. He was going to go for a walk to clear his head. He glanced out of the window – mercifully it wasn’t even raining either. His dad was in from the garage now and playing with Darla so it would be OK for him to go. He grabbed his ipod and headed onto the landing. Then, the moment of truth: he would have to pass that mirror again. He walked slowly and purposefully towards it, with a tiny ball of fear in his stomach but a look of determination on his face. He wanted to look again, to know what was there. To confirm that he had been imagining what he thought he saw. He took a deep breath, braced himself and rounded the corner to face the mirror.
What he saw made him release his breath all at once – just himself. What a relief! Murphy bounded off down the stairs through the kitchen to tell his dad where he was going and off out of the back door. He knew he had been imagining the whole thing. It was all in his mind. He was just tired and worried about Jake: that’s why he had seen him there. It was probably just a trick of the light – nothing more. He pushed his headphones into his ears, turned on his favourite music, tucked his hands into his pockets and headed out of the back gate onto his favourite trail by the sea. The wind whipped his face and he felt it refresh him and wake him up as he made his way along the cliff tops. Looking out to sea it was hard to imagine himself as he had been just an hour ago – worried and pensive thinking he was losing his mind. He felt absolutely fine now, and he was confident he would continue to feel that way. Mirrors couldn’t show you things like that. All in his imagination it was. Simple as.

*

The walk did him so much good. Murphy bounded up the stairs an hour later, back to his sketches without sparing a moment’s thought for the mirror on the stairs. He had put it all out of his mind now. He was busily working away when he suddenly caught sight of the clock above his desk – it was 5pm. Time to log on to chat to his friends John and Sasha. They had made a pact during the holidays to be online at 5 every day to chat. They knew that they could guarantee this during the holidays much more than they could during term time. Murphy had been so caught up in his ideas he had almost forgotten. He quickly logged onto his messenger page and there they both were – their photos grinning back at him all the way from London. No sooner had he logged in than the messages started flying:

“Hey Murphy, do you sound like you’re off Coronation Street yet?” Sasha – so cheeky.

“No – do you sound like someone off Albert Square?” Murphy was not going to put up with that kind of nonsense.

“Lol. You’re a funny guy you are chuck!” Sasha smiley faced him.

“Hi Murphy – how’s it going? Did you see the latest comic entry on the site? Unbelievable eh?” This was John – always so much more sensible than Sasha, “I thought it was fantastic – can’t wait for the new series to come out.”

Murphy quickly typed a response – he could see his conversation window with Sasha light up as he did so. It was always such a rush to catch up with them whenever they got together like this. “Yeah, it was great. I really like the new hero – he is going to be the best one yet I think.” Murphy hit enter then turned his attention back to Sasha.

“What’s new oop North then chuck?” Sasha was always taking the mickey out of his new Yorkshire accent (which he didn’t think he had at all). Any excuse and she was off.

“It is cold but not rainy for once. I do NOT have an accent so stop calling me chuck!” Send. “It’s good here – especially now it’s half term.”  Enter. Back to John’s flashing conversation.

“I am so excited about the new hero – he is so cool. Imagine being able to create an invisibility fog whenever you wanted to. Cool!” 

“I’d like to be able to get rid of my fog of invisibility – around school anyway.  Maybe I am the new superhero after all – it’s named after me!!”

“No mate, invisibility at school is awesome – I wish I could be invisible there. Especially in Mrs Saunders classes. That woman HATES me!”

“I wouldn’t mind being invisible from the teachers – Mrs Saunders – YUK! But invisible from the other students too….. not much fun.” Enter. Back to Sasha.

“Ok, ok…. I’ll stop – for now! Lol    its good here – went to the cinema today to see The Blobster. Was so funny I almost died! What you been doing then?”

“A whole lot of nothing in the half term so far. Lots of sketching and just hanging round the house with dad and Darla. It’s been cool. No family trips to museums or anything. Long may it continue.” Enter. John.

“Yeah, that’s rough mate. Real rough. Still no change then? I thought that girl Harriet seemed to be talking to you?”

“No – not since the last time. I still just get on quietly most of the time. Nothing else doing. Lessons are OK – it’s the breaks that are hardest. Literally nothing to do at all then.” Send.

“The idea of chilling out sounds cool,” This was Sasha again, “My mum would have a fit at the very idea. Fun has to be organised or not had at all. That’s the way it is here. I don’t get a minute to myself.”

“Yeah – I remember your mum being like that. Do you remember the day of the 5 different visits?!” Send. Sasha’s mum was ace fun and a bit of a legend but she had more energy than the rest of them put together sometimes. She would organise such complicated days out for them sometimes that they’d be exhausted and have to beg to rest for a bit. He was referring to the time she had rushed them through five different museums in one day – it was an unforgettable and totally exhausting experience for all of them.

“Do I ever remember – mum is SO embarrassing. She’s a nutter!” It was common knowledge that this was where Sasha had gotten her cheekiness and energy from in the first place. She and her mum were like two peas in a pod. Definitely cut from the same cloth.

“It took two days to recover from that if I remember rightly. We were shattered and your mum was still raring to go!”

“That’s my mum – always up for a bit of educational fun! Zzzzz!!”

Murphy chuckled to himself. “Yeah – fun of the non-fun kind… I remember it well!” 

“I’m sorry to hear that mate – I really am. I thought it would be better by now. I really did.” John was back.

“John, do you remember the time we went with Sasha’s mad mum to those 5 museums in a day? It was mental!” Send.

“Do I? I still have the mental scars! That was last summer wasn’t it?”

“No, the summer before. Was such a hot day too. All we wanted to do was chill out in the park. She wasn’t having any of it though. Determined she was.” Murphy smirked to himself as he hit send.

“So Sasha – what else is new? Still going out with Jim?” Murphy proper laughed as he sent this one, “What is it – your 2 year anniversary coming up?”

“I hate you Murphy – you are so mean! I’m not even going to dignify those questions with a response.”

“Aww, come on – I think it’s sweet. You and Jim are made for each other.” Jim is the boy who lives next door to Sasha who has had a crush on her forever it seems. As long as they could remember anyway. He tended to hang around her as much as he possibly could, and their parents (hers and Jim’s) seemed to do their best to make sure they had plenty of opportunities to be together. It drove Sasha mad. She had tried being kind but firm with him. She had even been downright nasty on one occasion but to no avail. Jim wasn’t budging an inch. He would hang around with her all of the time if he could – even if she didn’t speak a word to him the entire time they were together. He seemed to just be happy to be near her, and this was a constant source of embarrassment to Sasha. Murphy and John liked to do the proper supportive friend thing… and tease her about it all the time!

“Yeah right. You’re just jealous that’s what you are. Just cos no girls ever look at you!” Murphy could clearly imagine Sasha sticking her tongue out at the computer screen as she pressed enter.

“Yeah – I’d like a little kid to fancy me too……!”

“Women – they’re all determined about something or other. That’s my feeling anyway. There’s always a plan of some kind that you don’t know about – you know what I mean?” John had only had one girlfriend (and they were only together for a week) but he felt that made him an authority on the subject. That and the fact that he had three sisters and a mum to contend with at home. Not to mention several pushy aunties and cousins dotted through his family. Anyway, he seemed to think he knew a lot about how girls minds worked.

“Yeah…. I guess so.” Murphy had very little experience when it came to girls. They were a mystery to him, and he hoped it would stay that way. “You planning anything for half term? Any excellent adventures?” They were both huge Bill and Ted fans, no matter how old the films were.

“Dude – awesome! Yeah! I’m off to see my uncle Bob tomorrow in Camden. We’re going to paint the town red whatever that means.” John’s uncle was a legend to them. He was an ex-hippie who just lived life however he wanted and didn’t care what anyone else thought of him. He had a motorbike, he wore leather, he hardly seemed to work at all, in short – he was cool. Murphy had met him a few times before and had some really fond memories of his visits to Camden. Going round the market, sitting by the loch. Good times.

“Cool! Say Hi from me…. Wish I could be there.” Murphy loved Camden – it was one of his favourite places to visit with his mum too.

“Yeah, me too mate. Me too. It’s definitely not the same around here without you.” 

“Shut up you! I don’t know why I bother talking to you at all! You are beneath me anyway.” Sasha again – he would have to make amends.

“OK, Sash – sorry! I was only kidding! And you know you’d miss me if you didn’t get to talk to me at all.” Murphy smiled to himself. “You’d be lost without my witty banter!”

“Yeah right – chance would be a fine thing. You never leave me alone long enough to miss you anyway!”

“Whatever!” Murphy could hear his dad shouting him for tea, “Got to go! Teatime here! Take care!” This he sent to Sasha and John.

“Bye Murphy!”

“Bye mate”
Murphy logged off and headed down for tea. He always had an extra spring in his step after talking to his friends. It put him into such a good mood. He took the stairs two at a time and bounced into the kitchen to see his dad and his sister looking at him as if he was mad.
“Blimey son – you’ll do yourself an injury one of these days. We’re not going to eat your tea for you if you aren’t here straight away!” His dad sounded amused, “Get yourself sat down.”
“Sorry dad – I didn’t realise I was being so fast. Was talking to John and Sasha.” Murphy helped himself to some bread and butter.
“Ah – I thought you were in a good mood son. You look all perky. How are they? Up to anything good?” Mike started heaping mashed potato onto their plates.
“Yeah – John’s off to see Uncle Bob again in Camden.” Murphy felt his dad stiffen a little at the mention of that name. As a policeman, his relationship with an ex-hippie was a little strained to say the least. They certainly didn’t see eye to eye when they had met. Not on any single subject really.
“Well, hope they have a good – and legal – time together.” Dad’s tone of voice said it all: he really didn’t approve of Uncle Bob at all.
Murphy tucked into his bangers and mash happily but quietly for the time being – best to leave that conversation there really. He could never convince his dad about Bob – no matter what he said dad still saw Bob as irresponsible and a bit of a rebel. Nothing would change that at all.
“How’s Sasha? Still seeing that boy Jim?”
Murphy nearly spat out his food! “No dad – she never was! We just used to wind her up about it!”
Mike smiled, “I see. Poor girl. I thought she really went out with him – you boys went on about it so much.”
“Yeah I know – we never gave her a break about it. Don’t feel too sorry for her though. She was just as bad to us whenever she got the chance.” Murphy smiled to himself. If Sasha could have heard this conversation – she would have gone totally mad! So funny. He couldn’t wait to casually mention it when they next chatted. She would hit the roof!
“So kids – what do you fancy for tonight then? I thought we could have a DVD marathon. What do you think? We might have to toss a coin for what we actually watch. I know what you two are like,” Dad gave them a slightly warning look, “No arguing you two.”
Murphy and Darla exchanged a little glance – what to watch? Could they find something they agreed on? The only sound for the next minute or so was the sound of them both eating and of their brains ticking over. What to watch? Eureka! Murphy had it suddenly-

“Wallace and Gromit Night!”

“Yay!” came from Darla, and she immediately began shuffling round the room singing the theme at the top of her voice, doing a little dance.
“Excellent choice son, excellent choice!” Murphy’s dad loved those films too, “Let’s get organised. Darla – you can clear the table mats and put them away; Murphy- you can dry the pots; Dad- I’ll wash up! Let’s go!” They worked away to the tune of the Wallace and Gromit brass band (provided by Darla) until everything was cleared away and the kitchen was all tidy.
“Right – to the living room!” Mike announced, and they made their way there to make ready for the film festival. Everything had to be just so. The curtains had to be closed, all toys and bits and pieces put away. There needed to be footstools and end tables by the sofa “for their viewing comfort” as their dad said (really mainly for their viewing treats!) and the phone needed to be switched onto silent. Once that was all sorted they set off upstairs to wash their hands and “visit the conveniences” (again one of Mike’s sayings) while Mike himself put the big bag of popcorn into the microwave and poured out fizzy drinks into large cups for them. Usually, by the time they had been to the toilet and returned to the living room everything was ready, popcorn in bowls by their seats, drinks in place and the first film set up in the player. Tonight was no exception. They settled in together and their dad pressed play. Nothing would disturb them now – not for the rest of the evening. It would be in the morning when things would get complicated. For Murphy anyway.

*

Murphy woke up late to the sounds of his dad and sister playing downstairs – playing pirates by the sounds of it. “Oo-arr me hearties!” kept drifting up to him every now and then followed by “pieces of eight” and so on. They had finished quite late last night with their Wallace and Gromit Fest (well, late for them anyway) and Murphy was glad to be allowed to lie in for once. That was something he very rarely got away with. His dad must be getting soft! He rolled over lazily and stretched, preparing to force himself out of bed – he could have stayed there quite happily for most of the day. He knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t get away with that. No way. He took a deep breath and heaved himself up and out of bed, heading for the bathroom. As he wandered across the landing, blearily rubbing at the sleep in his eyes, something moved out of the corner of his eye. He looked round to see what or who was there but saw no one. He stopped for a minute, feeling a little uneasy. He had the feeling that someone was watching him, but as he turned on the spot he could see that there was no one there. Those niggling thoughts that he had pushed away, about the mirror and seeing Jake were starting to return to him now. Seeing things again. He couldn’t believe it.
Slowly, he headed for the bathroom to get ready for the day. As he walked along he told himself that he was just imagining things but that niggling doubt and fear wouldn’t be pushed away quite so easily. What was going on? Why was this suddenly happening to him? He had never had this kind of thing happen to him before – never. It was really starting to spook him. Not least because when he’d seen Jake he had seemed so alive, not like a reflection of himself at all. He had seemed to be there in real time. Blinking, breathing – very much in the flesh. That had been what spooked him so much about the whole thing. He had wanted to say hi, that had been his initial instinctive reaction. Before he realised what he was seeing, what he was really seeing. That was it – he had really seen it. He couldn’t dismiss it anymore. It had actually happened. He looked himself in the eye in the mirror – toothbrush working away furiously in his mouth. So that was what he was really saying? He had seen Jake? It wasn’t his imagination? He had spent his entire time since seeing Jake convincing himself that it just wasn’t true – that it was nothing more than a trick of his mind or the light. He couldn’t believe that he was so willing to go back on that. He had been telling himself that for absolutely ages. How could he have changed his mind so quickly? And why was he suddenly so sure?
Murphy finished brushing his teeth, ran his hands through his messy hair and headed back to his room. His eyes felt as though they were out on stalks – desperately trying to get a glimpse of something/someone but at the same time hoping desperately that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of anything either. He didn’t want to be thinking or seeing these things – definitely not. What was happening to him? He wasn’t even sure why this was making him so anxious in the first place – after all he had explained it all away once before as a trick of his mind and the light in the hall. Why now was he so convinced that what he had seen was real? One thing was absolutely certain though – he wanted to get to the bottom of this and fast. He couldn’t just forget about it, he realised that now.
He dressed quickly and headed downstairs for some food. He stopped in front of the mirror on the stairs and looked thoughtfully into its surface. He could only see himself looking back. Nothing more, nothing less. He sighed. What to do, that was the question. How could he solve this puzzle and stop him from wondering and worrying? He headed down the stairs feeling very preoccupied and uneasy. He didn’t see the glimmer of movement which came from behind him, as though someone had walked across the landing. He was too absorbed in his thoughts to notice.

*

The school holidays no longer seemed quite so much fun to Murphy anymore. He veered wildly between wanting to spend all of his time keeping a look out for further activity from the mirror and wanting to be out of the house and as far away as possible. Whatever he did he found he just couldn’t quite settle to. If he was watching TV he would suddenly realise he hadn’t been taking in the last few minutes at all. Even working on his sketches didn’t hold his attention for long. He would find himself staring aimlessly into space and was worried that he would ruin them by carelessly scribbling in the wrong place. It was a nightmare, and it was now looking like he wouldn’t get any of them finished at all.
Murphy just couldn’t understand why he was letting this whole thing get to him so much. So he thought he’d seen Jake in the mirror at the top of his stairs – so what. Why did it matter so much anyway? It was turning into a burning obsession for him, and it was something he just couldn’t stop thinking about. No amount of reasoning and rational thought seemed to be enough to bring him round to dismissing any of this. On the contrary – the more he thought about it and tried to push it away the more absorbed he became in these thoughts. He just wasn’t sure what to do for the best – how could he possibly cure this? How could he set his mind at rest and prove to himself that there was no truth in what he had seen or felt.
He was really wracking his brains now – he wanted to put this behind him and start enjoying his half term again and he knew he wouldn’t be able to until he had reached some kind of conclusion about this. What could he do to make that happen though? He had it – he would steak out the mirror at the top of the stairs. He would watch it as much as he could and see if he saw anything like it again. If after two days of watching he hadn’t seen anything he could stop worrying about it – it must have been his imagination. Right, this was a plan – finally! He rushed from his room onto the landing and sat himself down at the top of the stairs to begin his vigil. Two days of observation and this would all be behind him. This was definitely the best plan he had come up with so far. It would almost certainly work.
He paused for a second – how weird would this look when his dad and sister came past him? Him just sitting there on the landing staring in the direction of the mirror. Hmm. He’d have to think of a cover story of some kind. What could he do to make it seem less weird? He had it. He’d grab his sketch book and pencils. That way he could say he was using the mirror to do a self portrait. Genius. That was definitely the thing to do.
He rushed off and grabbed his stuff and was seated back at the top of the stairs in no time, turning to a fresh page and eying the mirror warily. All he could see at the moment was himself looking back out at the world, a bit dazed and puzzled to say the least. He sighed. Half of him still felt extremely silly for even contemplating doing this. It wasn’t exactly the sanest thing to do under the circumstances. But still, at least he would be able to put his mind at rest. Hopefully.
He started to mark out his proportions on the paper and sketched in certain things first, as his mum had taught him to do. He started by focusing in on his face and sketching in proportionally where his eye line was, the tip of his nose, his mouth then ears and hair (although only roughly at first). He looked at the picture and his reflection to check his proportions, and then started on the detail of the sketch. The eyes came first, filled in with as much detail as he could muster – right down to the pupils and the patterns surrounding them. His lashes were painstakingly filled in one lash at a time then his brows. He always started with the eyes as they were his favourite part to sketch. His least favourite parts of the face were the nose and the chin and jaw. He always found these difficult, as they were key to making the portrait look like the actual person but they were also the most tricky to get right. Deciding when to outline a feature and when to shade around it he found so difficult. It was like some kind of torture for him really. It was certainly the bit where he had to rub out and start again the most frequently.
He looked up into the mirror again in time to see his tongue sticking out of his mouth as usual – he put it away sharpish, and carried on with his sketch completely absorbed in his task. He didn’t hear his dad coming into the hallway downstairs. Mike looked up at his son with a fond smile on his face. He hadn’t seen him do any “classical” artwork since before his mother died. They had sat together and sketched their portraits in front of that mirror lots of times. He hadn’t seen Murphy do this for a long time. He suddenly had the urge to go and hug his son. Seeing him like that not only reminded him of just how talented a young man he was, but also reminded him of his lost wife Kathy. He felt hot tears welling up in his eyes as he stood there, and decided to move on without disturbing Murphy. He walked quietly into the living room where Darla was watching TV and settled in behind her, trying to get a hold on his emotions. He didn’t quite know why the sight of Murphy there had upset him so much but he knew he shouldn’t be inexplicably crying in front of him and Darla. That wasn’t logical behaviour. And he desperately didn’t want to upset them – they were doing so well really, both of them.
He tried to focus on the TV programme Darla was singing along to. Lots of brightly coloured characters were bouncing around on the screen merrily and Darla was copying them with her hands as best she could whilst singing along with every word. She was concentrating so hard to keep up, he could see that in her face. She was completely absorbed in what she was doing, and so didn’t notice her old dad in the background looking a little forlorn and sad. Which was a good thing – he didn’t want to drag his children down when they were obviously settled, occupied and happy.
He pottered off into the kitchen and put the kettle on. A nice cup of tea would cure him he thought – it was the fix for everything according to his mum. No sooner had he thought that then – the phone rang. It was his mum.
“Hiya son. How are things? The children enjoying their hols are they?” She always seemed to know somehow – whenever he was feeling down she had always known about it.
“The kids are fine mum – really enjoying their holiday. I think I might have a job getting them back to school next week. There will be some long faces in our house that day, I bet.” Mike smiled wryly.
“Kids never want to go to school really – they’d all much rather spend their time at home doing nice things. Don’t worry about it, they’ll get back into the swing of things.”
“Yeah, you’re right as usual. I shouldn’t worry about things that haven’t actually happened yet. How are you mum? You been out in the garden this week?” She was a fanatical gardener, although she only had a very small garden. She tended to those roses like they were extra children.
“Oh yes. Had a good potter around with my secateurs yesterday. Shipped off some dead leaves and shoots. I have to go out every day to them though to keep a watch for greenfly. Tricky things those greenfly you know.”
“Yeah, mum. Tricky little bugs they are,” Mike smiled to himself. This was, he knew, one of his mother’s favourite pet subjects: her battle with the greenflies.
“Yep. You take your eyes off those roses for a day and they’ll be in there like a shot. It’s only the constant threat of death that keeps them away at the moment. I tell you, they’re a menace to society.”
“I keep expecting to be asked to head up a task force at work to be honest. It’s such a nuisance to the community at large.” Mike held back a little snigger.
“No need to be funny with me son, you know what I mean. Cheeky.” Gran was having none of it from him. He wasn’t too old to be put across her knee (as she was fond of telling him – much to his own children’s amusement).
“Sorry mum. Now, what can I do for you today – or did you just phone up for a chat?” He knew that wouldn’t be the case. His mum never just phoned for a chat. There was always a purpose to her calls.
“Well, son. I wondered if you’d like to bring the kids over today for a spot of lunch? It would be nice to see them and I have made a nice Victoria sponge for us all.” She knew how to get his attention.
“Sure mum, I’ll round ‘em up and head ‘em on down. What time do you want us?”
“About 1ish if that’s OK with you?”
Mike looked at the clock in the kitchen – only 10:30am. That gave them plenty of time to get organised. “Sure mum. See you at 1.”
“See you later son, bye!”
Now to rustle up the troops. Mike stopped – he thought he’d allow himself his cup of tea in peace and quiet first. No rush to get going. He settled himself in one of the comfy conservatory chairs with his cuppa and just let his mind drift off. He was so glad that they had moved here, close to his mum. He was so glad to be back in touch with his mum in the first place. That was something he never expected to happen really, what with the stranglehold his dad had over her and his feelings about Kathy. He didn’t think he’d ever be reunited with his family at all, and he didn’t let it bother him. He had Kathy – that was what mattered. But since he’d lost her he was adrift for a while, with friends to help and support – and they had been a great help – it just wasn’t the same though. Having your family around you is something so important to Mike; he just felt such relief when his mum had gotten back in touch. The idea of moving up here was all hers also, and it made such sense to leave the bad memories behind and move to somewhere where he could get some help with his life and some support from his family.
His mum had made a huge sacrifice in letting him go in the first place. It was his father who had had such a problem with Kathy, not her. She had really liked her (although she’d had to keep her opinions hidden from dad). He was so controlling and hated that Mike had disobeyed him and married Kathy against his will. He could never forgive him for that. And if he wasn’t going to see his son then nobody else in his family would be able to either. He was such a powerful and scary man that the whole family felt obliged to follow his lead. In fact, some of them agreed with him anyway – an artist was not a suitable profession for anyone they felt. She would be sponging off him for the rest of their lives together. She’d never amount to anything – she was little more than a hippie. That was their feeling about her. They didn’t see the wonderful woman that Mike saw at all. They just saw her as not suitable. Not good enough in fact. And nothing he said could possibly change their minds it seemed.
So, it had taken a lot of courage for his mum to get back in touch, even though his father had passed away before then. His family had still very much had a stranglehold on her and had forbidden her to contact him. When she’d heard about Kathy dying, and knew just how much pain he’d be in she just couldn’t help but get in touch with him. She had to make contact and check that her son was alright. She had consequently lost all contact with dad’s family but that was a small price to pay she felt for the opportunity to get to know her son and grandchildren. She wouldn’t change her decision now at all. She only wished there was some way to go back and reclaim those lost years. As did Mike really, although he wouldn’t admit this out loud. He had hardened his heart against his dad and his family over this and wouldn’t let on just how much it had hurt him when he was cut off. He had never really given up on his mum though. Somehow he’d known all along that she’d come through for him. He’d known that they would be reunited somehow. He still felt a little angry with her though for allowing dad to push her around. He thought there must have been something she could have done – if it had been him he would have rather left his dad behind than his son – that was for certain. But his mum was too in awe of her husband to consider disobeying him in this. She loved him too much and was brought up to be a good wife to her husband and that meant for her that his word was law. It was a generation thing really. And something she couldn’t bring herself to break with. Until her husband had passed away. Then she felt finally free enough to make contact again.
Still, he was so glad of her support and her company now that he was willing to overlook and put behind him the years where he was without her. After all, he felt she had suffered just as much as him about this. She hadn’t really wanted to lose touch at all.
He drained his cup and stretched lazily – time to rally the troops. He heaved himself out of his chair in the sunshine and went off to find his children. They would definitely be excited at the prospect of Gran’s cake – he knew that much!

*