ranged haphazardly across the ceiling.

'All right, Hol. It's OK now,' said Vijay soothingly.

After the crisis in the control room, Ace and Robin had She raised bloodshot eyes to him.

been allocated the TV room as their billet for the night. Vijay 'It was James! It was him!'

had been very kind, helping with bedding and refreshment, 'James?'

although he still seemed a little embarra.s.sed in Ace's She grabbed Vijay's hand.

company. She thought of that old gag, 'I didn't recognise 'My fiance. You remember?'

you with your clothes on'.

Vijay nodded dumbly.

For a while, she and Robin had watched TV, or rather, 'He died. He's dead,' Holly cried, her voice hoa.r.s.e. 'But Robin had watched TV and she had watched him. Blue light he was there in the room. And he wanted me. I could feel it!'

from the screen bounced across his features as he sat Vijay sighed heavily and folded her into his arms, cooing entranced by a programme bravely ent.i.tled Colour me Pop!

softly.

Ace liked the curve of his jaw in the moody light and the 'All right, Hol. Don't talk now.'

way his Brian Jones fringe hung untidily in his eyes.

She flashed angry eyes. 'I want to! I want to talk! James is A youthful strutting figure had popped on to the screen dead. How could he be here? How could he?'

and Ace laughed out loud.

'What is it?' asked Robin, smiling.

146.

147.

'Is that who I think it is?'

A thick mist hung about the base of the Minster, gathering Robin frowned. 'Mick Jagger? Yeah.'

in eddies inside the crumbling yellow niches.

'You should see him now. He's well past it.'

Tim Medway strolled to his car, rubbing his hands 'What do you mean?'

together to keep warm and looking around him at the Ace bit her tongue. She had forgotten where she was. And awakening city. He smiled.

when.

Daylight was bleeding through the dark blue of night and 'Nothing,' she said quietly.

milk bottles greeted the morning with a chorus of c.h.i.n.king.

Sometime after eleven, they had settled down for the Coloured bulbs hung across the street like strings of paste night, their beds separated by a pile of coats, boots and jewellery, swaying slightly in the cold wind.

Ace's rucksack. Robin clicked off the light.

This was Medway's first time in York. Arriving mid-Ace heard him undressing in the darkness and grinned to afternoon the previous day, he'd found himself so herself. His teeth chattered as he plunged beneath the thick enchanted by the labyrinth of winding streets and tea shops blankets.

that he'd decided to postpone his appearance in Crook Ace was dog tired but her brain refused to quieten down.

Marsham. Old Trevithick could wait for his interview.

An image of that vile corpse out on the moor sprang into Probably had nothing better to do anyway.

her mind and she shook her head to get rid of it. She didn't Instead, Medway had b.u.t.toned up his overcoat and want to think about that.

thrown a long scarf around his neck, enjoying the Instead, she thought about the nameless excitement she undercurrent of Christmas which bubbled within him.

was experiencing. The gentle sound of Robin's breathing Bay-windowed shops glittered with antiques and wooden sent a tingle of pleasure coursing through her. She could toys, motley collections of old ship's instruments, Victorian hear the ticking of his eyelashes and knew that he was as dolls, angels, rocking horses and merry-go-rounds.

wide awake as she.

It was like some childhood ideal, he thought to himself, 'I know this sounds a terrible cliche...' Robin announced grinning in excitement: a composite of d.i.c.kens, John suddenly.

Masefield and C. S. Lewis, resonant of a kind of Christmas Ace put her hands behind her head. 'Try me.'

he had never known yet seemed to remember all the same.

'You're not like any other girl I know.'

His reflection, tall, tanned and good-looking, stared back Ace barked a laugh.

at him from every window.

'Sorry,' he grinned.

He'd eaten well, drunk just a little too much and stumbled 'No. Don't apologise. I like you too.' There was a deep to his hotel through streets bunched so close together the and satisfying silence.

buildings on either side almost touched. There was a frost ring sparkling around the moon and the distant, bra.s.sy 148 149.

[image]

music of a Salvation Army band drifted towards him. He 'Edmund Trevithick,' he announced to himself. 'Born 12 had wished everyone and anyone a very merry Christmas.

May 1898. Educated Repton School, blah, blah...'

He turned a page and pulled out a couple of photographs of the young Trevithick.

'No formal training. Joined Acton Rep. 1923. Went to Hollywood in the thirties. Came back for WWII.

Distinguished Service Medal.' Medway pulled a face, surprised.

'Films include: Flames of Pa.s.sion (1946), Sword of Araby (1949), The Man from the Ministry (1951), There's Someone in My Trousers! (1965). Best known for his TV work in the last years of his career, especially the popular Nightshade serials (1953-58). Retired in 1966. Family: Married Margaret (d. 1956), one daughter Paula (d. 1967) and granddaughter.'

Medway closed the file, put the car into gear and reversed into the misty street.

When the confirmation had come from Jill Mason he'd Now it was Christmas Eve and he had woken early, watched some of the old man's work. Nightshade he crisscrossing his hands behind his head and listening remembered well, of course, but he was most impressed by intently to the peal of bells.

Trevithick's tremendous output of television plays and his When he found the car, it was rimed with frost and he delightful sparring with Gilbert Harding on What's My Line?

had sc.r.a.ped away at the windscreen with a little plastic All in all, he was rather looking forward to the interview.

spade until it was clear.

It would certainly bring a touch of excitement into the old He let the car tick over for a while, warm air blasting boy's retirement.

through the interior, and took out a brand-new map from the glove compartment.

Edmund Trevithick picked up his umpteenth gla.s.s of Crook Marsham was six miles to the west. Shouldn't take whiskey with a shaky hand. Early light blotched the him long. Time for a nice leisurely breakfast in the village taproom carpet in pools of milky blue.

before he made his way to the - what was it called? - the Lowc.o.c.k and Lawrence Yeadon lay sleeping in the Dalesview Residential Home.

positions they had a.s.sumed upon entering The Shepherd's Medway switched on the windscreen wiper and pulled Cross the previous night. Both had collapsed as if utterly out Trevithick's file from his briefcase.

exhausted, causing grave concern amongst the remaining 150 151.

customers. They had fallen into a deep sleep, resisting all Lawrence did too. He almost lost control of the car. We attempts to get them to bed. Trevithick had taken charge, stopped for a bit and then tried to carry on but it was no bringing blankets and pillows from the airing cupboard and good. It was like a physical barrier stopping us getting out.

sending the old man with the arthritic hands to check on We were both sick in the car.'

Betty. He had returned, saying her door was locked and it Trevithick frowned. 'Anything else?'

seemed wise not to disturb her.

Lowc.o.c.k nodded slowly. 'Oh aye. Plenty. That's why we Trevithick himself, however, had not slept well. His mind came tearing back here like a couple of nutters. We both felt fizzed with unanswered questions. Events had been curious this... terror.' He threw up his hands hopelessly. 'That's the enough before but now! That creature... It was fantastic.

only way I can describe it. Overwhelming terror. Hysterical He heard a mumbling groan behind him and turned to we were. As if something was coming over the moor to get see Lowc.o.c.k stirring in his blanket-covered chair. The us. I've never been so scared in my whole b.l.o.o.d.y life.'

policeman's lively, humorous face now seemed heavily He finished off the whiskey.

jowled and tired. He rubbed his eyes and looked blearily 'George.' Trevithick put a hand on the policeman's arm.

about him.

"There's something happening in this village. I think it's Trevithick pushed a whiskey into his hand and he drank beyond any of our understanding, but we've got to do it gratefully.

something. Pool our resources. Get all the facts together.'

'What happened out there?' said Trevithick, immediately Lowc.o.c.k grimaced. 'What facts? What do you think is pouring another drink.

happening?'

Lowc.o.c.k gulped it down and waved his hand about.

'I don't know. Listen. I know this is going to sound 'Don't know. How long have we been out?'

incredible, but, last night, when I was walking home...'

Trevithick looked at his watch. 'It's a quarter past eight.

'How's Betty?' said Lowc.o.c.k suddenly. 'Christ, I forgot all You got back about half past ten last night and you've been about her. How is she?'

asleep ever since. We couldn't wake you.'

Trevithick put up his hands. 'It's all right. I sent someone Lowc.o.c.k shook his head and rubbed his face, his cheeks up to relieve young Robin but he'd locked the door. We making a slapping sound like wet liver. 'We got as far as the didn't want to disturb her. She's fine, I'm sure. But listen, moor road,' he said at last, cradling the whiskey gla.s.s in his last night...'

hands, 'and we were just talking about who we should Lawrence sat bolt upright in his chair, blinking his eyes in contact in York. Then...'

confusion. He looked at Lowc.o.c.k and Trevithick with a Trevithick looked up expectantly.

puzzled frown as if unsure of who they were. Then he 'Then?'

threw aside his blanket and clattered across the room to the 'I felt it first. Sickness. Nausea. Waves of it. Like we were stairs.

on a rolling ship in a storm. I felt awful. And I could see 'Lol, it's all right!' called Lowc.o.c.k, getting to his feet.

152.

153.

There was grim determination in Lawrence's tired face as Lawrence sat down calmly on his side of the bed and he sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom. He glanced down folded back the eiderdown. Betty Yeadon glared back at absently at the carpet which seemed to be wet through.

him, her features horribly contorted and stretched back like 'Betty?' He hammered on the door. 'Betty? Are you all perished rubber. Broken capillaries zig-zagged across her right, love?'

flattened face.

He tried the door. It was locked.

Lawrence let out a howl of grief and made to grab his 'Robin?'

wife's shoulders. He jerked back in abject horror as her body His shoes squelched on the sodden carpet.

shattered in his hands, the skin falling away in brittle shards.

'Betty? Robin? Come on, son. Open the door.'