Chapter 31
Compton Wells School
Wednesday 21st October
9.35 a.m.
“When would you like to have our little chat?” asked Markland, as he passed Jodie Standwick in the corridor leading to the science block.
“Do you mean our chat about the woods?” asked the young teacher.
Markland nodded.
“Whenever suits you. Shall we meet in the café, or would you prefer somewhere where they serve something a little stronger?”
Markland wore a puzzled expression.
“We’re going to chat over a drink, remember?”
“Yes, of course. But now I’m thinking of somewhere altogether different …….. let’s say, Badock’s Wood?”
“I thought the woods would be the last place you’d want to go,” replied Jodie. Her eyes were bright with the prospect of visiting the place where it had all happened. She’d visited the hill several times, along with the tens of thousands of others who’d wanted to see the burial mound for themselves. But now she had the privilege of going back again with Markland Garraway, the man of the moment.
“There’s someone else I’d like to come with us, if you don’t mind.”
“Who?”
The look of excitement diminished slightly, as the thought of her not being alone with him entered her mind. There was nothing romantic about her way of thinking. She just would have liked to witness the hill with him alone.
“Howie Doyle, the caretaker. I presume you know of him?”
“I know of him, but I don’t really know him.” An image of Howie crossed her mind. She had wondered about him once or twice, and thought it sweet that the school kids liked him so much. He had a way of making the children laugh.
“He said the same about you.”
“What’s going on, why would Mr Doyle need to be with us?” she asked, sounding a shade perplexed.
“Because the hill is communicating with me again, and it’s because of a situation involving him. I’m returning to the woods against my better judgment and I’ll probably regret it, but I don’t think I have much choice in the matter.”
“Has Howie lost someone who is trying to communicate with you?”
“Not exactly. Someone is trying to communicate with me, but not from beyond the grave……… but I think from another world. A parallel world.”
Jodie couldn’t contain her excitement.
“Howie Doyle, well I never,” said Jodie, before huffing air through her cheeks.
“This is why I was quizzing you last week.”
“Does Howie know I’m coming along?”
“No, Howie doesn’t even know he’s coming along. I’ve not told him yet. I wanted to know whether you were up for it first.”
“I most certainly am ‘up for it’,” she replied enthusiastically.
“Okay, we haven’t got time to speak now. I’ll track down Howie and perhaps we could all meet at lunchtime.”
At twelve fifteen Howie, Jodie and Markland were hunched together in the staff carpark. It was a cold October day, and all three had their coats buttoned up to their necks as a stiff autumnal breeze shook brown leaves from skeletal trees.
“I thought it would be best to speak where no one can hear us,” said Markland.
Anton Bueller walked past and gave an inquisitive glance.
“Howie, I’m agreeing to go to the woods with you, but due to the nature of what I think may be happening, I would like Jodie to be there with us.”
“Does Miss Standwick know the full story?”
“Call me Jodie, you’re not one of my pupils.”
“No she doesn’t, but you and I are about to tell her.”
After twenty-five minutes, Markland and Howie had brought Jodie up to speed on the James Trafford situation. Howie handed his phone to her and she scrolled through the pictures of himself and James.
“Unbelievable,” whispered Jodie, before returning the phone to Howie.
“Just what would you like to achieve?”
“I need to get my friend back.”
“But what if he doesn’t want to come back. He may prefer it where he is?”
Neither Markland nor Howie had considered this possibility.
“And how could he have made his way to a parallel world? I’m an avid support of the many-worlds hypothesis, and I believe that right now, as the three of us are in this carpark talking, we are splitting off to other parallel worlds with different consequences. There’s nothing we can do to choose the parallel world where we’re heading, it just happens.”
“I disagree, I think James found a way of swapping from this world to another.”
“I can’t see how that could be possible,” said Jodie.
“I didn’t think it would be possible to talk to a dead man by means of a hypnotised boy, but it happened” added Markland.
The three disparate characters stood in the carpark without speaking, until Markland broke the silence.
“Okay, let’s agree a date and a time.”
“I’m free after work today,” said Jodie.
“So am I,” added Howie. “But my car’s off the road. The radiator burst this morning, so I won’t be able to drive.”
“What the hell am I getting myself into?…… Okay, we’ll go tonight. Give Jodie your address and I’ll pick you both up from your place.”
“Shouldn’t James come along too?” added Howie.
“No, not at this point. I’m worried that it will do more harm than good. He’s in a vulnerable position, and I don’t think it’s wise if he even knows we’re going, …….. but I do think his father should know.”
“What do you think is likely to happen in the woods?” asked Jodie.
“I don’t know, but I hope that whatever it is that drives the hill, will answer your question.”
Doncaster Road, Southmead
7.12 p.m.
Markland applied the handbrake of his black Audi A5 and shut off the engine. Howie was beside him in the front passenger seat and Jodie sat in the back.
No one spoke.
Markland stared towards the entrance of the woods which was illuminated by a flickering street light. Jodie looked at his eyes in the rear-view mirror and wondered what was going through his mind. Howie was impatient to get to the burial mound, but waited for Markland to give the word.
Markland gripped the steering wheel with both hands and felt a familiar underlying sense of nausea. Howie and Jodie’s presence faded, as he cast his memory back to the day he had the call to go to Badock’s Wood and investigate Ben Walker’s murder. It had been the first day he stood alongside the burial mound and felt its influence upon him. The day his life would change forever. He swore that he would never set foot there again, but here he was, less than one hundred metres from the entrance.
He wondered whether Ben Walker and Liz Mason were somewhere watching him, and if so, would they approve of what he was about to do? He thought about Carla Price, and how she’d spoken to him through dreams by virtue of the hill. He closed his eyes and recalled Liz Mason lying at the base of the hill, whilst holding three-year-old Christopher Jameson’s hand. With clarity, he remembered the moment she took her last breath and how the spirit of Ben Walker left Christopher. He opened his eyes and saw that he was trembling.
“Are you okay?” asked Jodie.
He didn’t reply. Instead, he continued to stare towards the entrance of the woods.
“Markland, are you okay?” asked Jodie, for a second time.
“I’m not sure whether I can do this.”
There was an awkward silence. Howie was keen to get to the woods, but it was all down to Markland.
“I’m sorry Howie, I can’t bring myself to get out…… I just can’t do this, I can’t be involved.”
“But you are involved, whether you like it or not. You’ve admitted it yourself.”
/> “I know, but now I’m here, I just don’t think I can go through with it. I don’t mind admitting it, I’m scared ……. I’m shitting myself.”
“Howie’s right. You’re already part of this, and it isn’t going to go away until you get out of the car and go into those woods,” said Jodie.
Markland slowly nodded.
“Besides, you’re not alone this time. Howie and I are with you.”
Howie smiled as Jodie’s eyes met with his.
Markland knew they were right. He had to face the demons which had reared their heads again. He loosened his grip upon the steering wheel, and sighed. It was a long drawn out sigh from a troubled man.
“You’re right, I have no choice but to proceed…….. let’s go.”
They made their way towards the woods. Markland set the pace, while Jodie and Howie meandered a few steps behind. He stopped when he reached the entrance and peered into the darkness. Jodie stood next to him, took his hand and gently gave it a squeeze. His hand trembled.
He smiled, and she released her grip.
“Okay, when we get there, I suggest that the three of us sit on the hill and wait to see what happens.”
“What do you think we’ll see?” asked Howie.
“I’ve absolutely no idea. Perhaps nothing at all.”
Deep down Markland doubted whether that would be the case. He was certain something would happen, which was why he was so nervous. He stood at the gate which led to the woods and felt as if he was upon the precipice of a cliff. He closed his eyes, took in a breath, and walked beyond the entrance and towards the burial mound.
I’m not going to pussy foot around, he thought and quickened his pace.
By the time he saw the burial mound, Howie and Jodie were almost breaking in to a run to keep up with him.
He stopped at the stainless-steel monument. It was the first time he’d seen it since Liz Mason died. He took the smartphone from his pocket and turned on the torch app. The light from the torch picked out John Fairfax’s poem etched into the menhir. He read it in a whispered tone.
“At Badock’s Wood ghostly windmill sails turn and, like a rewound film, spin through history to remote times when this was burial place for Bronze Aged warrior in that landscape wolves prowled and nervy red deer grazed while hogs rooted among trees.”
“What did you say?” asked Howie.
“Oh, nothing, I was reading the poem on this monument,” said Markland, pointing to the words.
“The words seemed relevant at the time I was working on Ben Walker’s murder, but now they seem to have lost their significance.”
He sat on the bench next to the monument and winced as a bolt of pain shot through his knee.
The woods were so dark he barely made out Howie and Jodie who stood alongside the bench.
Howie sat down next to Markland, and softly touched his shoulder.
“Thank you for coming here tonight Markland.”
“Okay, let’s do it. Let’s get this over and done with,” said Markland, pulling himself up from the bench.
Howie stood up, and didn’t notice his house keys drop from his back pocket and fall between the bench and the stainless-steel monument.
Jodie heard a chink as the keys landed on the ground, but was so fired up about going to the hill, she paid little attention.
They walked the short distance to the burial mound and stood at the base of the hill.
“What do we do next?” asked Jodie.
“We climb to the top, and wait to see what happens.”