Brunch

IV

 

On the journey through the wilderness

And you find some time to dwell

The burning out there on the horizon

Is the highway to hell.

 

 

“So how do we get there from here, and why are we going there again?”

 

Ali looks at both the eager faces staring at him, quite unsure of why he’s being told that the London Historical museum is a must. It’s like being on a school trip, and having not read the agenda, he feels a little lost for words. And he hasn’t prepared a pac a mac or a lunchbox.

 

“Well, it seems like someone is adamant that they are going to leave cryptic clues everywhere, so Fred, can I play your Daphne, please? You know I’ve always loved those tight purple polo necks and micro mini skirts.”

 

Bee pouts and pulls a pleading face before she and Tia break into a fit of giggles, looking at each other and bumping shoulders like they’ve known each other for ever. Tia regains her composure somewhat before laughing again and saying through her tears as an aside.

 

“Great I guess that makes me the geeky one with the glasses. ‘Cos I ain’t no Scooby Doo.”

 

They both collapse into fits of giggles again, though Ali can’t quite see what is so funny. For the past ten minutes he has been watching what seems like an in depth conversation between two seemingly intelligent rooks. That has shaken him slightly. The rooks seemed to sense his disturbance and flew away after a short quarrel, but he has the distinct feeling of being watched, by more than just the CCTV.

 

He runs his fingers through his hair deep in thought.

 

“Tia, do you know how we get there or can you use on of these PC’s to get us a street map? And how did you get here? We have bikes outside; can you cycle?”

 

Tia makes a beeline for the CCTV PC monitor and this time ignores the fat man’s back, he is now drinking a milkshake, but she deftly minimises the surveillance screen and searches for street maps.

 

“Ok, so were here.”

 

Tia points to Whitehall. And then draws a line with her finger.

 

“We’ll have to go through Leicester Square, and up through Covent Garden. You know that’s going to be really spooky without people and traffic. It’s always heaving there. I’m not looking forward to that.”

 

Ali nods, he looks up and his eyes meet Bee’s. They are having the same thoughts; it’s the gardens they’ll have to watch for. Too many hiding places for the “wrong” type of people. If this experience has shaken them, it would be just about enough to throw some of London’s more unstable inhabitants off their axies’.

 

“Ok, shall we get going then?”

 

Bee seems to put a modicum too much positivity in her voice, as she turns her back on the other two. She hopes that Al can pedal quicker than he did on the way down, just in case. She hates to think ‘just in case’, in all fairness, she never thought she would have to cope in this position. What are they hoping to find when they get there?

 

As if sharing thoughts Al puts a hand on her shoulder.

 

“Come on babe, we’ll know when we get there, it’s a couple of miles. Nothing we can’t cope with. I just wish I’d learnt to hotwire cars in my misspent youth.”

 

Bee puts her own hand on his, feeling the warmth creeping in to her cold fingertips, she nods determinedly grabbing the axe from the floor.

                   

“As long as I can take this with me!”

 

And with that, without taking a second glance back at the room, she walks off down the corridor. Al smiles to himself, that’s my girl; he thinks.

 

“Tia? Ladies first?”

 

She raises herself up from her chair, grabs a printout of a London tourist map and follows Bee. Al takes one final look out of the window towards where the crows were arguing his eyes glance quickly at the CCTV monitors. People everywhere; cars, buses couriers, business. He hopes for at least some rational explanation, but he knows rationality went out of the window when they got up this morning.

 

He rubs his brows, knitting them together momentarily and says a short farewell to New Scotland Yard. He never wants to come here again.

 

 

 

************

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The morning wind has died down and the mist has lifted, tasking glorious winter sunshine on the three silent cyclists deep in their own thoughts. No laughter now, as the three head towards the intestines of the City, the square that never sleeps.

 

 

Tia leads the way and pushes gently on the pedals, looking at the map, feeling completely at ease, even though the silence and stillness of the great City is painfully evident. She likes it. She wishes that this had happened years ago, she can actually listen to the sound of her tyres on the tarmac without getting hooted at, or shouted at by a rogue taxi driver or white van man. She’s used to London, in fact she’s never been anywhere else. She went to Clacton once, but she remembers it being full of really old people who smelled of lavender and wee. She was six at the time. She finds the sound of the crunching under the rubber of her tyres oddly satisfying and peaceful. She tries not to think about the man on the CCTV, after all computers and cameras’ can all be wrong, right? They were all made by humans and are therefore prone to human error.

 

Bee pedals hard, thinking over all that she has seen in the past few hours. Her mind is alight with a million questions all of which she cannot answer. Who is leaving clues? Were the crows really talking to each other? What are they going to find once they get to the museum? She shakes her head, as if trying to expel these thoughts from her mind. She doesn’t want to push herself to close to breaking point; if she doesn’t make sense of things soon, she’s afraid of breaking down. Bee’s always been the one to look after everyone else, being strong is second nature for her, but this situation, she just doesn’t know. She feels out of her depth all of a sudden, and has to concentrate on her breathing.

 

Al is keeping a close eye on both girls, bringing up the rear. He’s fully aware of how there could be others here that would want to harm them all. He senses a shift from this mornings’ frivolous trip through South Bank. Finding Tia has certainly changed the balance of the situation. He feels almost protective over “his” girls. He frowns as he tries to work himself out, is the lack of another male in this equation making him feel like the alpha? He twists the corners of his mouth up into a smile, just thinking of himself as an alpha male is a thought in itself. He likes to think that Bee and himself are equal in their relationship. So why now, is he suddenly feeling a need to look after his “girls”!

 

He looks up; they are fast approaching Leicester square, possibly faster than the traffic would normally do at this time of day. The girls slow their pace as the statue of Eros comes to view.

 

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

 

Tia brakes sharply and looks hard and with some incredulity. Eros is balancing perfectly on his outstretched hand, completely upside down.

 

“Now I’d pay to have muscle tone like that.”

 

Unfortunately Al’s quick witted remark does nothing to lighten the mood between the three. There is an air of foreboding as if they are probing too deep for answers that may lead to some danger. And that danger is the fear of the unknown, an unknown quantity.

 

 Tia looks back at Al and Bee who are looking at each other.

 

“I thought it was vandals at St Pauls, but this ain’t vandals is it like? What are you two keepin’ from me? Or not telling me or wahteva’?”

 

Her broad South London accent gets broader when she panics. And she feels her heart thumping in her chest, she tries to breathe and concentrate.

 

“Well…”

 

Bee continues and explains the London Eye and Big Ben, and tries to find and explanation for them, from little green men to psychokenisis is discussed. The Tia stops and thinks and a dawn of an idea starts.

 

“I read about summin’ like this before in one of those Readers Digest unexplained books. This woman, right? She said that she had woken up one morning in her ‘ouse like? And everything was all normal, but there was no one there with her. She though her housemates had gone to work or Uni or whatever, but when she opened the door, she was like, somewhere different. Not her town. She actually talked to another person in this other place that really existed; and she passed out or something. And she was back. The book tried to explain it like a wormhole or something?”

 

Ali and Bee look at each other considering the theory and looking back at Eros Al says

 

“Well girls’ got a point right? It could be? But it would have to be a bloody epic hole to swallow all the other people in this City? Wouldn’t it get indigestion?”

 

Bee laughs at Al’s reaction and the tension lifts momentarily.

 

“Right guys, through Leicester square and Covent Garden and then were there.”

 

*********

 

They see the wrought iron gates of Covent Gardens and trepidation fills the three. Tia is the first to stop and dismount.

 

“Guys, I have a really bad feeling about this”

 

The other two slow and stop with the same fear, hearts pounding not through exertion. Ali feels his mouth suddenly full of sawdust and a lump that has been growing steadily on the ride grows in his throat almost to the point of suffocation. He coughs, trying to be quiet; but it resonates like a gunshot through the empty streets. He is dreading entering the vast sprawling inner city green space.

 

He looks at both girls; they are both pale and quiet. No more of the earlier camaraderie.

 

“Can’t help thinking we should have bought some guns with us.”

 

Bee looks around at Ali incredulously

 

“And where are we going to get guns at a time like this? It’s hardly like the black market is open for business?”

 

Ali face palms him self for saying such a thing, but can’t help thinking in the very back of his mind that they should have more protection than an axe, a bulletproof vest or something? The thought of wearing such a thing sends shudders down his spine, but then he checks his reality. London, empty at lunch time.

 

“Well, come on then. I’m not standing here till tea time.”

 

He plucks up the courage and starts moving silently towards the huge gates. The girls follow silently behind, acutely aware of the silence engulfing them, broken only by the sound of rustling rubbish and the bike spokes clicking around and around.

 

Covent garden is known for it’s bustling art community, behind them is the old Royal Opera House, within the streets are niche shops, café’s which at this time of day would have their steel rimmed patio chairs filled with exclusive bottoms. Ali thinks back to the last time he was here with a group from work. He was never really big on the whole arts scene and didn’t give a second thought to the gardens themselves. He never envisioned having to cycle through them with the fear of God in him that’s for sure.

 

“Is there a map here anywhere, or we’re bound to get lost. This place is huge.”

 

Tia looks at the main gate and notices that there is a map neatly displayed around two hundred meters into the gardens. She nods over to it.

 

“There, should be a path right through past where they do all those gigs in the summertime. I’ve been here once I think, looking for my brother when he was on of his suicide missions.”

 

The map clearly shows a path through the heart of the ornamental gardens with one left turn by a pagoda of some sorts. Ali looks seriously at the girls a moment

 

“Right, pedal quickly, don’t talk, but follow me ok? It should take twenty minutes maximum. If were as quiet as we can be we might not attract the wrong type of attention.”

 

The all nod silently in agreement and they mount and are underway. They pedal silently to the museum, anticipation brooding and killing the conversation. With some luck, Covent Garden is as silent and unmoving as the rest of the City.

 

*********

 

 

“What’s with London and marble tiles?”

 

His voice echoes through the cavernous reception hall as he stands agog in the doorway, looking at the vast expanse of history before him.

 

“This place is huge. And no, I’ve never been. I’m ashamed of myself.”

 

Bee walks over to a World War Two reconstruction, and begins to read casually; whilst Tia studies the floor map intensely. She sees the witch trial stand on the third floor.

 

“S**t guys we’re right at the top. Look, and it seems someone has been here before us.”

 

They both join her at the hugely expanded miniature map of the museum. She points out the ‘You are here’ sticker which has the words ‘here’ scrubbed out and replaced with ‘lost’. Someone’s idea of a funny joke doesn’t seem so funny any more.  In red marker just by the witch trial exhibition is scrawled

 

WE are All died and iN HELL

 

“Someone’s idea of a lame joke?”

 

Bee looks worried at the revelation and throws Tia a look of concern.

 

“Well I thought if we were going to run into trouble that it would be in the gardens, you know plenty of places to hide. But that went quite well.”

 

Al shrugs his shoulders.

 

“But maybe we should prepare ourselves for any eventuality here?”

The girls huddle together and Bee holds Al’s hand. They all set off together for the stairs.

 

“In any other situation you know how very stupid we’d all look right now don’t you?”

 

Tia snickers as she pulls a face making the other two giggle. Without thinking they climb the stairs in tandem up to the first floor.

 

“You know if we ever ‘make it out alive’ or whatever I really want to make a daytrip of this museum. We live so close to the Centre but we never come in apart from when we want to get rat�"assed.”

 

Ali looks sincerely at Bee, he overcomes the urge to just grab her and kiss her as she’s chewing her bottom lip. He loves watching her doing this, and finds something altogether strangely attractive about it.

 

“Hey.”

 

He whispers quietly over to her, out of Tia’s earshot.

 

“You ok babes? I love you.”

 

She looks over to him with a smile and mouths the words.

 

“I love you too.”

 

Tia booms

 

“Second floor people, Victoriana, and the Tudors. Roll up for your Jerkins.”

 

“Onwards and upwards it is then, but I do think that we should possibly keep the noise down; just in case.”

 

Bee says cautiously.

 

“Oh yep, just in case there are a few maniacs hanging about the Jerkin section with an Uzi and God knows what.”

 

“Thanks for that Ali.”

 

“What Tia? And please mademoiselle, call me Al.”

 

“Reminding me that even though Central is all but dead; I heard gunshots this morning so there must bee some crazed lunatic out there somewhere. You made that sound like we were stuck in a tomb raider game!”

 

“I’m sorry; it was a comment to lighten the situation not to make you worry.”

 

He pouts in a childish way that makes the girls giggle.

 

“Man whatever, lets just find some answers.”

 

Bee looks over at the fast approaching sign for the third floor and is relieved to see that there is a floor map here also before entering the exhibit room. She heads over towards it, and is shocked to find that once again someone has marked the exhibit room for the Witch trials.

 

You’ll never be free

 

This revelation is by far the most concerning yet. She wets her finger and runs it across the markings. It’s written in black marker this time, in a different hand to the one used downstairs. Have people come before? Well these messages seem to indicate that they have, and the fact is that they have left a mark, and the marks seem to be getting less and less hopeful. She keeps her thoughts to herself and turns to the others.

 

“Looks like our little friends left another cheerful message. I think what were looking for is around the back there somewhere.”

 

She points to the large dark exhibition room and walks through the open doors and disappears into the dark. Tia stands there watching her go and has the overwhelming urge to shout back at her and tell her to stay where she is. She looks up at Al, who seems to be lost in concentration, or whatever men do inside their heads.  She follows Bee into the dank partitioned room. Ali takes a long hard look at the scrawl on the floor plan, girls writing, for sure. He looks towards the dark door with some trepidation and taking a few steps forwards, a bloodcurdling scream breaks the silence.

 

He is momentarily unable to move, and as soon as he wills his legs to go he shoots towards the door and into the darkness.

 

“Bee, Bee? Where the f**k are you? Bee? Tia?”

 

He stumbles in the dark in blind panic. Didn’t anyone think about opening the blinds this morning? Oh yeah, this morning no one remained to open the blinds. The whole world f*****g went mental.

 

“Bee!? Answer me!”

 

Nothing, he runs into a glass partition feeling a small trickle of blood on a now pounding lump on his forehead.

 

“S**t!”

He raises his hand to wipe away the blood swearing under his breath that he didn’t think about torches or even candles.

 

“Someone answer me for God sakes!”

 

In the distance a small voice calls out.

 

“Ali? Ali? Aliiiiiiiiiii!”

 

He follows the voice hearing the panic, there is a dim light in the distance and he follows it. As his eyes adjust, he makes the outline of the girls, one on the floor and one kneeling down.

 

“What was that? Is everyone ok? What’s happened?”

 

He can hear Bee crying, he knows this isn’t good; whatever IT is.

 

“Look, look…please, just come here.”

 

He moves quickly and bullishly past some relic, not looking at what it is. Bee makes a line directly for him and he instinctively opens his arms and breathes in her light perfumed hair.

 

“What’s wrong babe, tell me I can’t see a bloody thing.”

 

She shivers in his arms. What the hell has caused this reaction in her? She’s the strong one, not him. This reaction from a fop wouldn’t worry him so much, but this girl has seen much more than him in her lifetime.

 

“Tia?”

 

He whispers quietly.

 

“Please tell me.”

 

Tia simply answers,

 

“Man, you got to see this for yourself.”

 

Ali kisses Bee’s head gently and tenderly puts his arm over her shoulder.

 

“No, no I’ll stay here I don’t want to go in there again. Really. Leave me here please. You go see.”

 

He kisses her forehead gently and puts his hands on her arms reassuring himself and her that she is ok and strong.

 

He walks gingerly into the dark room, smelling the musty relics of the museum. Tia is still standing looking at the main exhibit. He scans the room. In front of him is a real life replica of a woman tied to a pole, with sticks gathered at her feet. Witch burning no doubt.

 

“What am I looking at here? Help me out.”

 

“You’re standing on it.”

 

Ali looks down.

 

Scrawlled on the floor in blood are the words,

 

TOWER TRAITORS DEATH

 

He thinks to himself why did this make Bee scream and then he takes another look at the woman. Her throat is cut wide open, and blood is still drenching her white smock.

 

“Yer, she was still alive when we got here, she tried to talk to us. All we got was gurgles and then…well y’know…ugh..she kind of died.”

 

He notices the spots on her smock, obviously there was some effort involved in the talking. But who would have done this?

 

“I think we saw someone running out, that message is half written. And man, I’m sorry.”

 

Tia retches and throws up weakly on the floor holding onto the wall for support. She looks at Al, with weak eyes.

 

“I think we need to get out of here. Head to the tower? That’s where our answers are.”

 

Disturbed by what he’s just seen, he nods and heads back to Bee. Holds her, strokes her hair and lets her cry into his chest. Feeling like crying himself, it’s all he can do to comfort her. She in return wraps her arms around his waist for support. Feeling her world crumble, she finally looses it in a series of heart wrenching sobs. Listening to his soothing shushes and small protective kisses.

 

“Bee, I think we need to leave. Now. We need to get back to Tower bridge and into the tower itself. That’s where we’ll get our answers, it all points back to there.”

 

She doesn’t argue, her sobs cease and she follows the only other person that she trusts wholeheartedly like a child, holding onto his hand for dear life, sniffling down tears. Tia joins them shakily. Looking at both of them unable to make the fine detail out in their faces in the gloomy light.

 

“I’m so pissed off with this all. Now let’s get to the bottom of it.”

 

Ali takes both the girls hands, and leads them out of the Museum of London into the bighting daylight.

 

Reviews

[Ruth]

Wow hon, a detailed story!
Great characters, you always impress with creating the relationship between them so well!
I adore the imagery in the scenes, there is a feeling of being slightly on edge lol Thats cool!
I LOVE this!
xx

[RDOriginal]

This book has really pulled me in and waiting for each chapter to get posted has now become like waiting for the next episode of a favourite show on television.

As always the quality and style of your writing is really high. The characters are also nicely rounded - particularly the way that Bee and Ali's relationship is helping them deal with such a bizarre situation. Tia is also emerging as what I can only describe as a London version of the role Michelle Rodriguez plays in every single film she's been in: let her play with some guns!

My only (tiny) gripe is that the heroes managed the trip from New Scotland Yard to the museum without being spied on by the ravens again. I think the birds are more frightening if they're omniprescent but they seem to have gone for a 'brunch break'.

In summary, this is a great read and I can really see it being a success.