Chapter 40
Howie Doyle’s flat
9.52 p.m.
“How do you propose we get to Exeter?” asked Howie, “Your cars aren’t here in this world, and my old Fiesta’s knackered.”
“Your car may be knackered in the world we’ve just left, but that’s not to say it’s not up and running in this one,” said Markland.
“He’s got a point, go out and see whether it starts.”
Howie went out to the drive, popped the bonnet and checked the radiator. It was full of water, it hadn’t lost a drop. He sat in the driver’s seat and turned the key. Nothing, absolutely nothing. He noticed a musty stale smell, as if it hadn’t been used in years. He got out and walked around the car. In the darkness he hadn’t noticed that two tyres were flat. He walked to the front, and looked at the windscreen and saw the tax disc had expired in July 2013.
“Shit, this thing’s not been driven in years,” he muttered beneath his breath, before returning to his flat.
“It’s worse in this world than it was in the other,” said Howie, before explaining to Jodie and Markland that his fifteen-year-old Ford Fiesta was a non-starter.
“We’ll have to hire a car,” said Jodie.
“We’ve got no money in this world,” said Markland, in a dejected tone.
The three sat in silence until Jodie came up with an idea.
“I think I can get us some cash, enough to hire a car.”
Markland and Howie looked at her quizzically.
“Howie, assuming you’re a caretaker in this world, I imagine you’ve got keys to the school.”
Howie jumped up, and checked where he hung his keys.
“Yeah, they’re hanging by the door.”
“What are you thinking?” asked Markland.
“I’m thinking of something that’s a little bit against the law. I know where the school secretary keeps petty cash. There’s normally a few hundred pounds in the safe.”
“But what if we get caught?” asked Howie.
“Then we’ll have an awful lot of explaining to do,” replied Markland.
During the next ten minutes they discussed what to do. At just after ten o’ clock they left Howie’s flat for the two and a half mile walk to Compton Wells School.
It was ten minutes before eleven when they reached the school. Howie opened the gate to the carpark, and they made their way to the school office. Howie unlocked the rear entrance door, and shut off the alarms.
“Do you have a key to the secretary’s office,” asked Jodie.
“I’ve got a key to every room in this school, but I don’t have a key to the safe.”
“Don’t worry about that,” smirked Jodie.
Howie opened the door, and Jodie flicked on the light and made her way to a desk on which were three pot plants. She lifted a white china pot containing a dried up spider plant and revealed a small key.
“Yes,” she whispered beneath her breath.
Howie stood in the doorway and watched Jodie open the safe. She removed a brown envelope, and emptied its contents on the desk. She took a minute to count the notes and announced there was one hundred and seventy pounds.
“Not as much as I had hoped,” she whispered.
“Take this and wipe your prints,” said Markland, handing her a cloth. “You wouldn’t want the Jodie Standwick in this world to get in trouble would you?”
“That’s if in this world Jodie Standwick even works here,” replied Jodie.
Howie locked the door, and they made their way back along the corridor. Markland passed his office and did a ‘double take’.
“What? asked Jodie.
“Look, on my office door my name’s not there.”
“Well that’s because you probably don’t work here in this world.”
“That’s not the point, look whose name is.”
“Shit,” muttered Howie, when he saw to what Markland was referring.
“John Armstrong, that dodgy bastard still works here. He was the Attendance Officer before you,” said Jodie.
“I’m aware of who he is, and I’m aware of what he is alleged to have done.”
“Everyone knew he was guilty, but nothing could be proved,” added Jodie.
“Shit, we need to do something,” said Howie.
“How far did you get with your meeting with Victoria Kilby’s parents?” asked Jodie,
“Not very far, it was the day I passed out remember?”
Jodie nodded.
“I’m sure the reason she took so much time away from school was because of him. The dirty bastard,” she said, shaking her head in anger.
“So if he’s still working here, in this world, he’s probably up to no good, what can we do about it?” said Howie.
“We’ve got enough on our plate, but I agree we must do something,” said Markland.
“I could put a note under the headmaster’s door,” suggested Jodie.
Markland pondered for a second.
“That may be difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because if the Jodie in this world knows nothing of what John Armstrong’s been up to, she’ll have a hard time explaining herself.”
Jodie nodded.
“I’ll leave an anonymous note. According to the sign on the door I don’t work here, Armstrong does, so it shouldn’t incriminate any staff, plus my handwriting won’t be recognised.”
Jodie and Howie nodded in agreement, and proceeded to bring Markland up to speed with what John Armstrong was alleged to have done.
“This is more than an allegation, I walked to his office when he was on the computer one lunch hour. I saw a quick glimpse at what he was looking at before he was able to hide it. Disgusting! I guess he must be a wiz at clearing his browsing history because nothing was ever found,” said Howie.
“Of course, we’re taking a risk. After all, the ‘John Armstrong’ in this world, may not be the grubby little man he is in ours, but we can’t take that chance. We need to protect the ‘Victoria Kilbys’ of this world,” said Markland.
He wrote a note, sealed it in a white envelope and slid it beneath the headmaster’s door.
They slipped out of the school and headed back to Howie’s.
“It’s too late to do anything right now. If Howie would be kind enough to put us up for the night, we’ll hire a car and head off to Exeter first thing in the morning.”
Howie and Jodie nodded in agreement.
Thursday 22nd October. 7.05 a.m.
After a night of little sleep, Markland, Howie and Jodie had taken an early bus, and were waiting outside the car hire firm near the city centre.
Markland stood in a trance as he recalled a particularly nasty nightmare he’d had about his former boss, Detective Superintendent Derek Munroe.
“They should be open by now,” said Howie, in an impatient tone as he checked his watch.
Markland was a little concerned that there would be something about the ‘Markland Garraway’ in this world, which would prevent him from being able to hire a car. His worries were unfounded, as within forty-five minutes the three of them were heading southbound in a brand-new Vauxhall Astra.
The M5 was quiet, and few words were spoken on the journey to Exeter. Howie gazed towards the east, and saw the glow of the sunrise. He thought about the strange world to which he’d somehow crossed over. As the sun peaked over the hills, he wondered just how many parallel worlds there could be, and how many other suns, like the one which he had seen rise and set ever since he could remember.
As they passed junction twenty-three Jodie saw that Humphrey, the fibreglass camel, which had stood in a field behind the hard shoulder was still there. It had been in the same place since she could remember and it brought back memories of long drives to Cornwall with her mother and father when she was young. Seeing it gave her a sense of comfort a
s if everything would be okay. Until now she hadn’t considered if, and how, she would return to the world from where she came. A chill ran down her spine as the enormity of the situation sunk in. She opened the glove compartment, threw her purse in, and slammed the door closed.
Markland eyed her as he gripped the steering wheel. There were few cars ahead of him and he had to be careful to keep the car below seventy. The last thing he wanted was to be pulled over. He wondered whether his life was different in this world. He thought of Joan and wondered whether they’d made better progress of getting back together. He knew he wasn’t working at the school because creepy John Armstrong’s nameplate was on the office door. He pondered whether he may still be a detective, and whether he’d would have been involved in Ben Walker’s murder in this parallel world.
It was Jodie who broke the silence.
“I suppose we should discuss what to do when we get there.”
“Simple, we bring James home,” said Howie.
“Don’t you think he’ll be a little surprised to see us? I don’t think we can just charge in and grab him,” said Markland.
“Even if we do convince him to come with us, how on earth do we bring him back to our world?” said Jodie.
“I think we’ll leave that to ‘the hill’. I guess we’ll take him to the burial mound and see what happens.”
They approached the sign for Exeter Services.
“First things first, let’s have breakfast,” suggested Markland.
Markland pulled up in the service station and they headed to the restaurant. The three were in awe of the ordinariness of their surroundings. Lorries were parked, coaches full of passengers were pulling away, businessmen were milling around the entrance whilst talking on their mobiles and families were bustling around the shops.
Howie and Markland tucked into bacon and eggs while Jodie opted for cornflakes and toast. When Markland had been a policeman he rarely ate breakfast, but since early retirement he’d put away two or three fry ups every week.
“I think the best approach is for Howie to knock on James’ door. After the surprise of seeing him has tapered, Jodie and I should introduce ourselves.”
“What if he’s not there?” asked Howie.
“Then we come back when he is,” said Jodie.
“But what if Helena answers instead,” said Howie.
He had a very good point. If Helena answers the door, sees Howie and recognises him, there would be a chance she’d be in a heightened emotional state and in shock. The last time she would have seen him, was before he’d died when he was a teenager.
“We’ll have to deal with that if it happens, take things one at a time,” suggested Markland.
“So assuming James is there and he opens the door, what should be our line?” asked Jodie.
“I think we should clarify that we’re aware of what’s happening, explain how we’ve got here and tell him about the other James who’s moping around in Bristol. He needs to face up to what he’s done, return to his world and let the other James return to his,” said Markland.
“You make it all sound so easy.”
Howie cast his mind back to the vision he’d had on the hill.
“But what about Barrington-Smyth, what I saw on the hill told us that Helena wasn’t with James.”
“Perhaps the hill had got things wrong, hopefully we’ll find James here. You mentioned that Masterson did say about Helena having twin boys, so fingers crossed she is married to James,” suggested Jodie.
“It’s something we’ll have to deal with if it happens,” said Markland. “Can you remind me where we’re heading?”
“Montgomery Crescent, but I can’t remember the number. Hopefully I’ll recognise the house from my vision on the burial mound,” replied Howie, finishing the dregs of his tea.
“Could you do me a favour,” asked Markland, reaching into his pocket for cash, “could you nip over to the shop and buy an A to Z. I’m not familiar with Exeter.”
Howie took the money and headed for WH Smiths.
Thirty-five minutes later, Markland turned left from Polsloe Road, and slowly made his way along Montgomery Crescent.
“There it is!” barked Howie, pointing to the house he’d seen in his vision.
Markland recognised it too, as he’d shared Howie’s vision on the hill. He parked opposite and shut off the engine.
“It’s just as I saw it in my head,” said Howie in a quiet voice.
An upstairs light came on and a figure obscured by net curtains could be seen in the room.
“Someone’s home,” said Jodie.
“Mr Doyle, it’s time to do your thing. Jodie and I will wait here and watch. We’ll come over once you’ve explained to James what’s happening.”
Howie swallowed dryly, opened the door and stepped out. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he made his way across the road. He glanced at the overgrown garden, which partially obscured the stagnant pond. It was just as it had been in the vision.
He stood at the door and rapped the brass door knocker with three steady, confident whacks.