Sand Glass (38 page)

They sat me up
and George left the room.

Janey moved as
Violette sat by me.

'You gave us
quite a fright last night.... Or rather early this morning.' she
looked into my eyes with a doctory kind of scrutiny.

'What
happened?'

'We'll only
tell you when you're fully recovered. Jules has been through a
similar thing. That was to do with.... Well I'll leave that for
now.'

'Thanks
Doctor.'

'You are most
welcome.' she smiled in a way that lit up the room, 'this new
branch of medicine is my exclusive expert project. I have
successfully treated three severe “Time Sickness” cases, and some
minor ones as well.'

'What did you
do?'

'Ah! Time is
like a wave that beats upon a shore. Or like the rhythm of a
musical piece. The differences that we don't notice happen all the
time. I discovered that this was rather like four beats to the bar,
against seven beats; and one of them is speeding up, or slowing
down at different times. The symptoms include.... well, you know
those already. You may have some of these again. Don't be
concerned. The treatment is simple.'

'What did you
do?'

'We needed
something rhythmic. Music, or a rhyme. The mind fastens on those
things; especially familiar things. The mind and body respond to
the right kind of music and rhythm, and the presence of others.
Human voices singing, various acoustic sounds. Forget anything
electronically generated! It's doesn't root in the subconscious in
most people. It has to be deeper than that. An anchor to keep the
shirring tides from pulling you away. We worked on it all night
during one day last week. Then we hit on the right combination of
treatment.'

'What is that
then?' I coughed and Janey came to my other side.

'Similar
ingredients but tailored to the individual. You are certainly a
puzzle Mr Milnes! Sam told us what we needed to know. Alex
confirmed it. Odd but it worked.'

'Oh?'

'Rhymes,
limericks, verbal rhythmic patterns.' she stood, 'I'll go down now.
Sam is doing Lunch with Alex's help.'

'That is
bizarre!' I said and rubbed my chest again.

'They are
getting on just fine! Sam is doing what he's told.'

'Yeah! That
will work.' I said, and coughed again.

'No talking!
Not for a while. You'll get lunch soon.’ Violette slid gracefully
from the room.

'Jared is
alright now…. Well he seems to be,' said Janey, 'Marcia is with
him. I think they are playing scrabble.'

'Word
puzzles.'

'Yes.' she sat
quite still.

'Janey?'

'Yes.'

'How long have
you been here?'

'Since
nine.'

'What?'

'I came over
when you had stopped reacting….. after you stopped. Like having a
fit I suppose. I was up anyway. Violette, George, and Alex were all
in here tending to you earlier this morning.'

'Alex
disappeared....'

'He was over
with me and Violette. Then they came back.' She gave me a worried
look, ‘I’m glad you are back with us.’

I was silent
for several seconds wondering what to say.

'I must have
had a narrow....' I coughed again,

'Escape. Yes.'
Janey regarded me solemnly for a moment, then smiled.

'Thanks for
being here.' I wheezed.

'The Tea Tray
is coming up.' said Janey, 'no more talking

I had been led
to a room I had never been in before, a big sitting room. Janey
went to find Alex to tell him I was down. Violette came in a moment
later and lit some candles in the centre. There was a soothing
fragrance. Was it lavender?

‘You will not
get up David.’ said Violette firmly, ‘Let them all come in and join
you. You will tell me if you feel dizzy or sick again won’t
you?’

‘Yes Doc.’ I
said in a humble little voice. I really didn’t have the strength to
argue.

Jared came in
then.

‘Sit next to
David.’ ordered Violette.

‘Okay.’ Jared
said in a husky drawl. He sat and immediately laid his head back
into the cushions. Violette left. There was a big clock that ticked
with that old-fashioned clunky tone. After a while you didn’t hear
it. But it was kind of hypnotic all the same.

Then, in ones
and twos they came in: all the team. James, Marcia, Adam and Joe.
Peter (Curly), Oliver, Janey, and Jules. And lastly Nikolas, who
looked really a lot better.

Jules and Nik,
who had not seen us back at the beach or at any time before or
since, regarded Jared and me with a kind of awed reverence; it was
somewhat overwhelming. Jules in particular seemed to be very
emotional about the whole thing. Violette let him sit next to me in
my right.

‘How’s the
arm?’ Jules whispered.

‘Better than
the rest of me.’ I said back.

Jules smiled
hugely, ‘You really are a very clever cat.’ He said.

‘Not as clever
as you it seems.’ I said.

Alex and Sam
entered, followed by Kyle, he was the note taker for this debrief.
George came in with a folder and a box.

‘This time I’m
not asking for tags back.’ said George, ‘I need you to keep them on
for a while longer.’

‘Why is that?’
aid Marcia.

‘I will tell
you all about Sandglass.’ said George, ‘this information does not
leave this room. You do not divulge this to another living soul.
Not even between yourselves outside the walls of this house.’

Everyone
silently nodded.

‘The experiment
is still running,’ said George, ‘that is, Nimbus is still running.
It has gone to a different stage. All of you are no threat now. I
have scrambled the readers so that only us… that is Sandglass can
gather the information from them. Officially they were
destroyed.’

‘How?’ asked
Jules, and put his glasses on to look at the papers George handed
him.

‘Salt water.’
said George.

‘Yes,’ Jules
replied, ‘that would do it. Janey and Curly can look at this too.
We need to make sure the channel is secure.’

‘Is everyone
still in possession of a tag?’ I asked thinking that it all seemed
a bit ad hoc.

‘Yes everyone.’
said George.

I turned to
Jared as he pulled his tag out, and then the pendant. Round the
room it went. Everyone was wearing there’s. Lastly I showed mine to
the assembled group. The chain was tangled with the cross my mother
had given me. I remembered the weather. Rain, snow then sun…. then
snow again.

Someone was
speaking. My mind had wandered there; I focused back on the
speaker: Alex.

‘You want me to
be part of this. But I won’t be tagged like a piece of lost
luggage!’

‘You’re already
part of this,’ said George, ‘and this is expensive kit. I don’t
give it out to just anyone.’

‘That’s what
worries me!’ Alex looked at me, ‘These friends of yours are very,
very mad you know!’

‘Yeah… I know.’
I said casually.

We continued on
the debrief.

The most
noteworthy item was the absence of Mr Andrew Hanson, sociology
lecturer. George told us that the readings on him were still coming
through. The tag was still being worn and was still active. We were
all asked to make comments on anything we needed to say. No one had
much…. But then questions….

That was a
different matter. The atmosphere was tense with a kind of curiosity
normally only reserved for the revealing of dark family secrets, or
the reading of wills.

I was Curly who
broke the silence that the ticking clock was making its own.

‘What is beyond
the Cloud Field?’

They all looked
at the four of us: Janey, Marcia, Jared and me.

Marcia turned
to the three then Janey and Jared looked to me.

I felt….alone.
My friends, and I couldn’t say. People I loved and had been beaten
by the elements with, side by side. I could not say it to them.
Violette was looking at me in a different way. Not curiosity, but
concern.

What could I
say?

‘I went to the
edge of the world,’ I said, ‘and then I came back to find you.’

‘But what is
there?’ Curly again.

‘I thought you
knew?’ I asked him, ‘you went there.’

He looked away,
before he spoke. ‘There was a wall. At the end of one small piece
of rope. And that is all.’ Curly looked disappointed.

‘That first
time,’ said Janey, there was a wall… as Peter says. But I found a
gate.’

‘It is not what
it seems.’ Jared spoke then. Everyone’s attention was swiftly
directed at him, as he had been silent for so long.

‘What isn’t
it?’ Sam this time.

‘I am not the
strongest of you all. But perhaps I am the most knowledgeable in
some things.’ said Jared, ‘but this is like a puzzle with some of
the pieces missing. David is my friend. Please don’t ask him about
it again. It’s not what you think it is.’

‘Why?’ asked
Curly, ‘what is it?’

‘You are not a
poet, or an artist. But most importantly, you do not yet believe in
anything after this life…. You are still being pursued by the dark
truth of yourself…’ Jared seemed to grow as he said this, ‘It is
better to ask the questions that you want to know answers to for
yourself.’

‘Why didn’t I
see something?’ said Curly.

‘The right
question.’ said Jared, and sank back into his seat again.

Violette
tutted, ‘This time you will let me speak.’ She gave George a hard
stare. He indicated she should address the group.

‘I have seen
many things as a doctor. Some that you would really not want to
know. But now I have within my care, you all. And time is awash
with casualties of a confrontation that has been carried out…
perpetrated by certain people for some time. I am thoroughly
opposed to the reasons for trying to alter any person’s fate. At
whatever cost to any individual. Never the less; I am even more
opposed to people I have in my charge being badly treated. So
whatever you thought on this matter. I am not, under any
circumstances playing back to the directorship your personal info
sessions, your log entries or any other such thing. I think it’s
time we all respected each other’s privacy. Unless something really
needs to be said… it’s better to let it remain where it is.’

The silence
like a passing shower that ensued after Violette’s legs had been
stared at for a full three minutes, was broken into by George.

‘Individuals
can be booked for sessions right now, before anyone leaves today.
You will receive an innocuous letter in the post. Kyle will check
everyone’s contact address before you leave as well. And we will be
rechecking the situation after December now. Anything else, ring
the number that Violette supplies you with. You can get any of us
on that number at any time.’

The meeting
broke up after that. Tea and buns characteristically supplied, this
time by Marcia and James. It felt like the end of the party for
real now.

Just over three
weeks later I was dodging in a tint on a design; and looking up
periodically to see if Alex was coming back with the coffee. He
arrived with new mugs. Bright colours.

‘What
happened?’

‘Someone had an
accident,’ said Alex Jauntily, ‘you know what happens when you wash
up sometimes.’

I wasn’t sure
if he had been involved, but the new mugs were cheery and suited
the impending Christmassy party that we were finally summoned
to.

‘Do you play?’
asked the Mikey character.

‘Play what?’ I
said absently, still concentrating on my work.

‘Golf.’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘What the
problem with you?’ Alex interjected, ‘it does not require a working
knowledge of the game to attend a golf club for the reasons
stated.’

‘Which are?’
said Mikey stiffly.

‘Your call.’
said Alex to me. He’s been doing that a lot these days. Perhaps he
wanted me to assert myself with the newbies. There had been several
since the summer.

‘Enjoying
yourself means not being made to walk three miles round a cold
hilly landscape beset by ball nicking squirrels.’ I looked up.

Mikey was
suddenly in need of collecting a file from another office on
another floor.

‘Very good.’
said Alex, ‘A bit wordy though.’

‘I’m still
learning.’

‘Yeah… not
quite the Newbie now though, got a few stripes.’ Alex smirked as
Mikey tripped over someone’s injudiciously placed waste bin down
the end of the studio.

I found myself
rubbing my chest again. A hot bath I decided, when I got home. I
saw Alex looking at me. That look he would never ever show in
anyone else’s presence.

‘Alright there
Davey?’ he said almost as an aside.

‘Yeah.’

Saturday. Six
pm. I stood in my bathroom trying to tie the silk tie that Alex had
given me. I was really fouling up. I heard him crashing in through
my door.

‘Bloody Hell!’
Alex said when he saw me, ‘That will never do.’

‘I thought you
hated the things.’ I said as he grabbed my throat and redid the
knot.

‘Only when I’m
forced to do something against my will. This is different; there
may be available women there.’

‘You mean of
the female gender?’ I frowned as he pulled on the knot to
straighten it.

‘I hope to meet
someone for a romantic assignation this evening. And tarts in
tights are just to my taste today.’

‘That’s
disgusting!’

‘It’s a
commonly held misconception,’ mused Alex as we got our outdoor
coats on, ‘that the upper class woman is less likely to succumb to
a man’s more obvious charms.’

‘I don’t
agree.’

‘You have not
read enough English literature then… resplendent with winsome
wenches trapped in the tightly entrenched manners of their station
in life, just ripe for the plucking by a roughly hewn male with new
money.’