Elvis stood with his back to the post office and looked at the row of terraced houses across the street. He vividly remembered the deeply wrinkled face of the stooped old woman. Why did she say 'When the time comes and you want to know more'? Does she know something about what was going on? Well, there was nothing to lose. She said that her house was the one with the black door. Most of the houses in the row had been modernised, some with fake stone facades, others with shiny white PVC windows and doors. Satellite dishes all pointed in the same direction along the street. But there was just one house that looked untouched since the day it was built. It stood in the middle of the row, with black door and peeling paint. The curtains were drawn and smoke puffed from a precarious chimney. That was the house.
Elvis tapped on the creaky iron knocker then stepped back. The house remained silent. After a minute he stepped up again and repeated the knock. He looked up at the curtains across the bedroom window; did someone just peep between them? No matter. He waited again. Still nobody came. He would try one last time and if there was still no answer he'd give up and go home. He gave two hard raps on the door, and as he pulled the knocker back for a third, the door squeaked open.
'For heaven's sake, laddie. Are ye trying to wake the deed?' The old woman stood with back arched and neck twisted.
'No, I'm sorry; I didn't think anyone was in.'
'Well if ye thought naybody was in, why where ye botherin' te knock in the first place?' Before Elvis had time to think of an answer she pulled the door open wide. 'For heaven's sake Elvis, get inside boy. You're late.' She held the door open and impatiently waved him through.
The door opened into a grim little living room. A half-light came from a crack in the curtains and a blackened kettle hissed over an open fire. There was just a wooden rocking chair and a small square table for furniture, else the room was bare.
'Have a seat noo boy. We hav'nay much time.'
Madadh and Le Clerc set off down the High Street in search of the hospital and Cormag. The city was a bewildering jumble of lights and sounds, of fast moving vehicles, and shop windows crammed with the strangest of goods. They couldn't help but stare at the weird looking people walking past, at their bizarre clothes, the wires hanging from their ears and the shockingly exposed summer flesh. And people stared at them too. It wasn't just what they wore; their sores and rashes made people stand back and give them a wide berth.
As they ventured further, the street became busier. A man in front of them stopped and pulled a noisy little box from his pocket and then began to talk into it. Le Clerc was stunned. He prodded Madadh and pointed at the man. Madadh leant forward to have a closer look. The man began to walk away but Madadh's curiosity wasn't satisfied. What was this strange device? He followed closely until they all came to a halt at a pedestrian crossing. Madadh leant forward again and strained to see. His bushy red hair tickled the back of the man's neck.
The man turned around with a scowl. 'What are you...' He saw Madadh's wild red hair and beard, his ugly boils and the bushy chest hair escaping from his jumper. His words dried up.
''Whit's tha'?' asked Madadh pointing at the mobile 'Who ye bletherin' te? Hoo's tha' wor' then?' Madadh reached forward for the 'phone to have a closer look.
The man was not about to argue. He thrust the 'phone into Madadh's hand and then turned to run. He dashed into the road, straight in front of an oncoming taxi. There was a screech of tyres, the taxi swerved and the man jumped out of the cab's way; though sadly only into the path of a large white Transit van. He was thumped to the ground.
Bystanders rushed to help.
Madadh was struggling to work out what to do with the 'phone. Eventually he gave up and pushed his way through the on-lookers. 'Thanks ma'e, I was jus' af'er a wee gander.' He placed the phone on top of the injured man's abdomen. A crowd was rapidly gathering.
Le Clerc tugged on Madadh's arm. 'I think we should go.'
Madadh looked at the faces around him. Attention was jumping between the moaning, prostrate pedestrian and Madadh himself. Along the street two policemen were urgently pushing their way through the crowds. An ambulance siren wailed and flashing blue lights were rushing up the street. Madadh was fascinated by the noise and the sights. He stood motionless, hypnotised, ignoring Le Clerc's tugs. The police arrived and began taking details from the two drivers whilst the paramedics scooped the injured man from the road.
A policeman approached Madadh. 'I understand you're with the injured party, Sir. Look, I know this is upsetting for you so I won't hold you up. We'll speak to you properly when they've got him settled. You're going with him, I take it?'
Madadh was still in a trance, staring at the flashing lights of the ambulance.
'Where are they taking him?' asked Le Clerc.
'The hospital of course. Where else?'
'The hospital! That's where we're going!'
'Good! Why don't you see if you hitch a ride in the ambulance with him and we'll catch up with you there?' The policeman turned and shouted 'Hoi, hang on, there's family here.'
'Hurry up, we need to go!' shouted a paramedic from the back of the van.
'Go on, quickly boys, jump in.' The policeman tapped Madadh on the shoulder. 'And while you're there' he whispered 'see a doctor about those sores.'
Le Clerc eagerly jumped into the back of the ambulance and was guided into a seat. The doors began to close behind him. Madadh ripped them back open.
'Sorry mate. We can only carry one family member in here.' The ambulance man began to pull the door closed again.
Madadh tore them back apart. 'Whit ye dein'. Bide a wee, A'm comin' an' all!' He threw a fearsome glare at the ambulance man and climbed into the back of the van.
'He's not looking good.' said his colleague. GCS is falling, he's going to need intubating if we don't leave right now. Let's go!'
The paramedic sighed and closed the doors behind Madadh. The siren began to howl again and the ambulance lurched forward throwing Madadh against the back door.
Le Clerc and Madadh looked in wonderment at the machines, at the pedestrian fastened to the stretcher, at the rigid neck collar, the plastic tubes hanging from his arm and the wires from his chest.
'So what relation is he to you blokes?' asked the paramedic as he pulled back the man's eye lids and shone the torch at his pupils.
'What relation? Oh, er, brother' said Le Clerc 'Yeh, he's my brother.'
'What's his name?'
'His name?'
'Yes, what's his name?'
'Oh, em...' Le Clerc looked around for inspiration. 'Ivy. Yes, his name is Ivy.'
'Ivy? That's an usual name for a bloke,' he said, fiddling with a beeping machine. Especially for someone who looks... kind of Japanese. Not much like you fellas.'
Le Clerc smiled.
'What's his surname?'
'Surname?'
'Yeh, he's your brother, you must know his surname, for heaven's sake!'
'Oh, yes, of course I do.' Le Clerc looked back at the labels on the cupboard doors. 'His name is Ivy... Ivy Fluids.'
The paramedic eyed him sceptically. 'Nah mate, you're taking the Mickey. He's never Ivy Fluids.'
'Le Clerc could sense his cover was blown. 'My good man. How dare you question my testimony whilst my brother lies hurt before you? Have you no heart?' He lowered his white rimmed sunglasses and gave the ambulance man a piercing glare.
'Is he tekin' the piss?' growled Madadh, attempting to climb to his feet as the ambulance lurched.
'No, not a problem.' said the paramedic, with a jolly tone. 'If you say he's Ivy Fluids then he's Ivy Fluids.' He'd been in the job too long to argue with a couple of odd-balls in the back of his vehicle.
A moment later the ambulance jerked to a halt outside the emergency department. The paramedic jumped up and gladly threw open the doors. In a moment they'd whisked their patient outside and were heading towards the emergency department.
'Follow us guys' ordered the ambulance man and then turned to his patient. 'Stay with us
Ivy. We're at the hospital. Can you hear me Ivy?'
Le Clerc and Madadh waited until the paramedics had disappeared.
'Reet,' declared Madadh 'this must be the place. Let's go find Cormag.'
'How do you know my name?' asked Elvis, sipping on a strong cup of sweet tea.
'Och, I know many things. Ye'd be surprised boy. Now d'ye have the stoon?'
'The stone?'
'Aye, the stoon! The red stoon, the Mother Lee stoon! What other stoons d'ye have?'
'Oh yeh, I saw that.'
'Well, I gathered that boy, but d'ye still have it?'
'No.'
'Noo! What d'ye mean noo? We need that stoon for heaven's sake! How can we do it without it?'
'Do what?'
'Don't act any stupider than you have to boy. I've seen the news; I know what's going on. I've waited many a long year for this. But we need te hurry. If we're going te get those people back whence they came and stop the whole of London going down with this awful disease again. We'll need that stoon. You're going te be a very busy boy.'
'But I don't understand. What am I supposed to do?'
'They're noo making you bairns any brighter these days, are they? I'm sure even you have worked oot that stoon has some special qualities.'
'Well, yes, but I'm not really sure...'
Mother Munro sighed. 'Look, many years ago, a lot of people drank a potion from that stoon, a potion that was supposed to keep them safe from the plague. Those people were staying at your hoose at the time. An' I think I'd be reet in saying that those are the same people that ye'd be hiding noo Elvis.'
Elvis nodded. 'Yeh, but if the potion was supposed to keep them safe, then the stone obviously doesn't work, does it?'
'Dinna be smug boy!' she snapped. 'This was noo ordinary illness. Even the stoon couldn'e keep them safe from this disease, so it did the next best thing.'
'What, let them die?'
'Noo, ye wee idiot, it's brought them back te a new age, an age when they can be cured. It's brought them back to you so that you can get them medicine and make them well. Then they can return home. They're all dependant on your ingenuity and your courage young Elvis.'
'Me? Courage?' Elvis scoffed. 'Why don't you find someone big and fearless instead of me?'
'Fearless, laddie? Did you hear me say fearless?'
'Well, you said...'
“Och if you've noo fear Elvis then you're noo courageous, you're just plain stupid. Ye have to be scared before ye can be brave.' The old woman shrugged. 'Anyway, you chose to live in that hoose.'
'I didn't choose! And anyway, how on earth can they return home? That's hundreds of years ago.'
'The stoon, boy! That's why we need the stoon! And ye'll need te get every last one of them back to where they came from. Whatever happens, they mustn't stay here. If ye fail, there'll be more and more of them from across the ages, every one of them sicker than the last 'til this city is filled again with the foul stench of the Black Death. But before ye can send them back, first ye must make them well. Ye'll need to find enough of your newfangled medicine to cure them before their journey.'
'How do I do that?'
'I don't know. This is your world Elvis. Ye need to find the medicine. When ye've done that, I'll help ye send them all home.'
'OK. Well, say I could do that, what about if, just supposing, you wanted to cure someone who hadn't taken the medicine back then? Someone who just got sick and died of plague. How could you do that?'
'That's a silly question Elvis. Most all of London didn't take the potion! We canna make them all well!'
'No I don't mean that. There's a girl...'
'Och, a girl. I might have known. Aren't ye a bit young for that kind of thing laddie?'
'No, not like that! No, she's come back, with her brother and sister and mother. But her father didn't take the medicine so he's not here. Mary said...'
'Mary, did ye say? Noo... Mary Young?'
Elvis nodded.
'Och the wee girl? She's back!'
'You know her?'
'I did, a long time ago.'
'Is there some way we can help her father? He never took it so he's not come back.'
'Aye, well, she was a fine girl. She helped me, she did. Well, I suppose it might just be possible, just might. It'd be dangerous, and ye'd have te hurry boy, because when they find oot what's wrong with ye, one half of London will be crawling all over ye and the other half will be running the other way. Time is the key. Ye need to go find the stoon and get that medicine. Do whatever ye need to do, ye hear me, whatever it takes. You've only got one chance.'
'But...how do you know all this? You can't be old enough...'
The old woman smiled. 'I'm a lot older than ye think.'
'But how could you be?'
'Look laddie, there's many a thing you don't need to know right now. Time is fading fast. You need to be on ya way. But beware, there's others oot there who want the stoon for their own ends. Watch ye back now.'
'But I still don't...'
'I'll see ye tomorrow. I'll meet ye at the back of the old church, that's where they are I'd guess?'
Elvis nodded again.
'Aye well I'll meet ye there when the clock chimes midnight.'
'But...'
'No time for buts. Find that stoon, and tell that wee girl Mary to make plenty o' potion, lots and lots. She'll know what I mean. That newfangled medicine is your job. I canna help ye there. Noo, on your way boy, ye've lots t'do.'
Le Clerc and Madadh headed towards the main doors of the hospital.
On the front steps a woman stood under a bright light and before a television camera, talking to a microphone. 'One wing of the hospital is now sealed off whilst doctors investigate the cause of the outbreak. So far fourteen cases of the mystery illness have been identified with more people coming forward by the hour. Three people remain dangerously ill in intensive care.'
Madadh and Le Clerc wandered closer to have a look. They stood behind the TV reporter and gawked at the dazzling white light. Le Clerc dropped the sunglasses from his forehead and onto his face.
The cameraman turned off the light and aimed his camera to the floor. 'You've got two clowns behind you Brittney.'
The woman turned around. Le Clerc and Madadh smiled and were about to ask about the light but the woman spoke first. 'You two fruitcakes better fuck off right now or I'll have the pair of you locked up. D'you hear?'
'Yeh, go on, before I do something I regret.' snarled the cameraman.
Madadh was all for showing the man the meaning of regret, but Le Clerc knew better. 'Let's go' he said, stepping in front of Madadh, 'We should find Cormag.'
The woman composed herself again. 'OK, from the top Quentin... As the mystery outbreak continues, panic grips the people of London...'
Chapter 12