Switchers (13 page)

Tess glanced at Kevin, hoping to share a silent joke, but he was gazing solemnly into the fire.

‘What about the other cold places, Lizzie?’ he said. ‘Like the Alps and the Himalayas.’

‘Those mountains, you mean? But they’s cold because they’s high up in the sky! Everyone knows that!’

There was a long silence. Tess moved her chair a bit closer to the fire. Outside the wind was getting up and she could hear the cat-flap on the outside door rattling. At last, Lizzie sighed and shook her head sadly. ‘You doesn’t believe me,’ she said. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t.’

The others said nothing, because there was nothing they could say. From time to time, the wind made the chimney give a great pull which sucked flames up to hug the kettle.

‘You doesn’t believe in krools,’ said Lizzie, ‘and I suppose you doesn’t believe in them dinosaurs, either.’

‘But dinosaurs are different,’ said Tess. ‘There’s evidence for the dinosaurs. You can still see their bones.’

‘We doesn’t know what it was left them bones behind,’ said Lizzie, ‘and krools has no bones to leave, in any case. But if those dinosaurs was there, where are they now?’

Kevin was becoming irritable. ‘Everyone knows that, Lizzie. They became extinct.’

‘And does everyone know what happened to make them extinct?’

‘There was a shift in the earth’s crust and something changed in the atmosphere. That’s what happened.’

‘There was earthquakes,’ said Lizzie, ‘and they woke up the krools, that’s what happened. And the krools was hungry when they woke up, that’s what happened. And the krools ate up all the dinosaurs that wasn’t already dead and buried. That, young clever clogs, is what happened.’

Tess felt a shiver run up her spine. It was the kind of shiver she sometimes got when she read a good poem or heard a piece of music that touched on some deep and delicate truth that everyday language didn’t reach. There was another long silence, and then Lizzie said: ‘It’s snowing. I can smell it.’

The two policemen parked their car some distance from the top of Lizzie’s track. Before they got out, they emptied all the loose change from their pockets and put it in the glove compartment. Oliver took the car key off its ring and left the others under the seat. There must be nothing that would clink or jangle. They intended their approach to be silent.

Lizzie’s kettle was starting to sing. This time she knew where the milk was and she had already emptied the teapot but even so there was plenty for her to bustle with. ‘Switchers isn’t what they used to be,’ she said. ‘There was things we knew in those days that you doesn’t even begin to know.’

‘But what could we do, Lizzie?’ said Tess. ‘Even if we did … I mean, even if it was true about the krools?’

‘It is true,’ said Lizzie.

‘Even if it is,’ Tess repeated. ‘What could me and Kevin do about it?’

Lizzie thought for a moment, swirling hot water around the teapot. ‘I doesn’t know exactly,’ she said. ‘I’s been thinking about it a lot, and I doesn’t know exactly. But I know this. Switchers has powers that you hasn’t even dreamed about. You hasn’t even begun to know what you can do.’

‘What do you mean?’ said Kevin, suddenly interested.

Lizzie emptied the hot water into the sink. ‘I knows all the things you two has been. I can see it. You could see it, too, if you was watching properly. And I knows that you hasn’t done half the things I did when I was your age. You hasn’t a notion of how much you can do.’

‘What can we do, Lizzie?’

‘Even I doesn’t know that. But now it’s too late I wishes I had my time all over again. We all thinks we has all the time in the world when we’s young. And sometimes we doesn’t push ourselves hard enough. We doesn’t use our imagination, so we never really gets to the bottom of ourselves. Sometimes we doesn’t know what we could be until it’s too late.’

Kevin was listening intently, but Tess’s mind was beginning to wander. Lizzie sounded too much like her parents and her teachers, sounding off about how young people didn’t make the most of themselves. She looked at her watch again. She would have time for tea, she decided, and while she was drinking it she could try and work out a way to get Kevin on his own and arrange another meeting. She didn’t want to go home without being sure that she was going to see him again.

Lizzie poured water on to the tea leaves.

And then the knock came at the door.

‘L
IZZIE?’ CALLED OLIVER FROM
the front door. ‘Don’t worry. It’s only me, Garda Griffin.’ He knocked again, without waiting. ‘But don’t waste my time now, you hear? Open up the door.’

‘All right, all right,’ said Lizzie, making her way through the hall. ‘I’s coming.’ She turned on the outside light, opened the door, and peered shrewishly at Oliver. ‘What does you want at this hour? Scaring old ladies in the middle of the night! You ought to be ashamed of yourself.’

Oliver stepped past her into the hall and went ahead of her into the kitchen.

‘Sorry, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘But it’s official business this time.’ He was both relieved and disappointed to find that there was no sign of any young runaways.

‘Well, I don’t understand it,’ said Lizzie, following him into the room and closing the door behind them. ‘I never in my life heard so much fuss about a pair of goats. And look at you! You should have knocked those boots on the step before you came in. You’s dragging snow all over my floor.’

‘Sorry about that,’ said Oliver. ‘But this time it’s not about goats. It’s those two youngsters we’re looking for. The ones who were here earlier on.’

‘Why? What’s they done?’

‘Can I get through this way, Lizzie? To the back?’

‘What you want to go out there for? There’s nothing out there.’

Oliver went through the scullery and into the back porch, where he opened the door for John.

‘What’s he doing there?’ asked Lizzie. ‘What’s going on? Why can’t he use the front door like everyone else?’

‘We’re just being careful,’ said Oliver. ‘In case anyone slipped out the back.’

‘Who’s going to slip out the back? What’s you talking about?’

‘I don’t think they’re here,’ said Oliver to John. ‘But you’d better take a look upstairs, just in case.’

‘No, he hadn’t,’ said Lizzie indignantly. ‘And don’t you talk above my head as if I wasn’t there! I’s smaller than you is, but I’s older than the two of you put together and you has no right to barge into my house as if you owned the place.’

Oliver sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie. You’re right. We’re just a bit worked up because we had trouble with your path in the dark. One of your trees has confiscated John’s cap and won’t give it back.’

‘I’ll have a word with it in the morning,’ said Lizzie.

‘It’s all right. I’m sure we’ll find it on the way back. We didn’t use our torches on the way down because we didn’t want anyone to see us coming.’

‘You was sneaking up on us, wasn’t you?’

‘Who’s us?’ said John, casually.

‘Me and Nancy and the pussums,’ said Lizzie. ‘They was sneaking up on us, pussums, so they was. Looking for that nice young boy and girl who was here. What’s they done, anyway?’

‘We don’t think they’ve done anything very wrong, Lizzie, but the young girl has run away from home and her parents are very worried about her.’

‘Oh, dear,’ said Lizzie. ‘And I thought they was such a nice pair of youngsters. Is you sure it was her?’

‘Positive,’ said John.

‘Then they told me a pack of lies. I always says you can never trust them teenagers.’

‘How long have they been gone?’ said Oliver.

‘Let me see, now. They left just after this young man was here looking for the goats, I think.’

‘But maybe you’re expecting them back?’ said John.

‘No. Why should I?’

‘Well, I was just wondering why you have three cups set out on the table.’

There they were, three odd cups and three odd saucers with a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar beside them.

‘Three cups,’ said Lizzie. ‘They’s observant, isn’t they, pussums, eh? Still, I suppose they has to be. That’s what they’s trained for. But maybe they’s too clever, eh? Maybe there’s things about an old woman’s life that they didn’t ought to ask?’

John felt a slight chill and looked around the room. The little old house was creepy enough at night, even with the lights on. He hadn’t enjoyed the dark walk down the lane one bit.

‘We have to ask, I’m afraid, Lizzie,’ said Oliver. ‘That’s our job.’

‘They has to ask, pussums. But maybe they’d prefer if they didn’t know?’ She went over to the table and poured a drop of milk into each of the three cups. ‘I does this every night before I goes to bed. And in the morning, when I gets up, I does it again.’ She poured the tea and spooned in sugar. Then she put one of the cups in front of her and one to each side. ‘This one’s for me,’ she said, ‘and this one’s for my husband George, who went off over the sea to fight in the war and never came home. And this one here is for our little daughter Kitty who died before she was even born.’

John shuffled his feet in embarrassment. The cottage had suddenly become saturated by the most appalling sense of loneliness. Even Oliver was silent.

‘So,’ said Lizzie, brightly. ‘Up you goes and take a look around upstairs. Go on with you.’

‘That’s all right, Lizzie,’ said Oliver. ‘It won’t be necessary.’

‘Indeed it will. You has a job to do and you’s required to do it. And I has a reputation to protect. I won’t let anyone have cause for doubt in case they says, “Maybe she was hiding those two young criminals all along.” Go on. Up you goes.’

‘They’re not criminals, Lizzie,’ said Oliver.

‘Never mind.’ She bustled them out towards the hallway. ‘The bulb is blown in the hall but there’s a switch at the top of the stairs. Go on.’

The two policemen obeyed, sheepishly, and thumped up the narrow stairs. They stayed there only long enough to poke their heads around the doors of the two small bedrooms, then they came down again.

‘Sorry about all this, Lizzie,’ said Oliver. ‘We didn’t mean to disturb you.’

‘You’s more disturbed than I is, by the looks of things,’ said Lizzie. ‘Why don’t you sit yourselves down and drink these cups of tea now they’re poured?’

John blanched, and even Oliver’s cast-iron stomach became momentarily queasy. ‘It’s very kind of you,’ he said, ‘but I think we should move on.’ He reached down and picked up a ginger tomcat who had been asleep in Lizzie’s chair. ‘I see you have a new cat?’

‘I has two new cats,’ said Lizzie. ‘So you needn’t be minding about me and my little habits. I has all the company I needs.’

Oliver put the cat down and led the way to the front door. ‘Did they say where they were going when they left?’

‘They said they was going home. “Time we was going home,” that’s all.’

Oliver retied his scarf and pulled his coat tight around him. ‘That’s where Garda Maloney’s going, too. Wish I was. Goodnight, Lizzie.’

‘Goodnight.’

The two men lit their flashlamps and were soon hidden from sight by the blizzard. Lizzie closed the door and went back to the kitchen, passing on her way the army parka and down jacket that were hanging among her coats in the hall. ‘That was a close shave, pussums,’ she said. But she got no response, not even a glance. Every one of the six cats in the room was sound asleep. Lizzie looked at the three cups on the table. For a moment the loneliness still lying in the air closed in and settled on her heart.

Tess woke shortly before dawn. The fire had died down during the night and the room had become chilly. She yawned, then stood up and stretched, reaching out as far as her paws would go and catching them on the upholstery of the chair to check that her claws were sharp.

The other cats had gone on an inspection of the night and not yet returned. Someone was sitting in a chair pulled up close to the fireplace and Tess slipped down on to the floor with a view to finding a lap and getting warm enough to sleep again. But halfway there her other mind woke up, and she realised that it was Kevin.

She Switched, feeling rather glad that she hadn’t made it as far as his knee before she realised. He jumped slightly as she appeared, then nodded briefly and returned his attention to the fire.

A few dry logs had been propped up in the embers, but they hadn’t been there long enough to light. Kevin was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and it was clear that he was deep in thought. Tess pulled up another chair and spread her hands above the grate. ‘Cold,’ she said.

Kevin stirred and sighed but said nothing.

‘I fell asleep,’ said Tess. ‘Cats are great, aren’t they? There’s nothing to beat a cat for comfort. I sometimes think that if I had to choose, I’d choose a cat.’

Still Kevin said nothing, but went on gazing into the fire. Tess looked at her watch. It was six-thirty. ‘I meant to get home last night,’ she said. ‘But then I fell asleep. There’s no point in going now because nobody’ll be awake yet. Do you think Lizzie would mind if we made a cup of tea?’

Kevin threw her an icy look. ‘Do what you want,’ he said. ‘Who cares?’

‘You know what’s wrong with you, don’t you?’ said Tess. ‘You spent too long being a lizard. Personally I never found it much fun.’

Kevin’s eyes blazed. ‘And you spent too much time being a flaming magpie, yakking away to yourself and getting on everybody’s nerves.’

Tess swore in Rat, and Kevin swore back. The scores were level, and for a while they both stayed quiet. Small flames began to catch the base of the logs and creep up their sides. Behind them one of the cats came in through the scullery door, but went out again when she realised that neither of them was Lizzie.

At last, Kevin stood up and went over to the window. He pulled back the curtain and looked out into the darkness. Snowflakes were falling gently against the glass and little drifts had formed against the bottom of each pane. ‘I don’t mind if you go home, Tess,’ he said. ‘I won’t blame you.’

‘What do you mean?’

He let the curtain fall and came back to sit at the fire. ‘I probably do the same thing if I were you,’ he said.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Tess. ‘What else is there to do?’