Питер Джеймс - Short Shockers - Collection Two

I backed away, turned and dived into our bedroom, slamming the door shut, the noise waking Kerry.

‘Wossat?’ She murmured, sleepily.

I turned on the light. I had to wake her fully. She needed to see this — or convince me that I was hallucinating. I told her to go and take a look at the landing.

‘I’m so sleepy,’ she said.

I felt really bad about disturbing her. But I had to be reassured I wasn’t either hallucinating or going mad. Every inch of my flesh was covered in goosebumps. I’d never, ever, felt so spooked in my life.

‘Please go and look on the landing,’ I pleaded.

Finally, very reluctantly, she slipped out of bed, in her nightdress, padded across the floor and opened the door, with me right behind her.

Then she just stood there, mesmerized. I will always remember her face as she turned to me for as long as I live.

It was the face of someone who has stared into the pit of Hell.

We clutched each other, and stared at the procession of people. It went on and on and on. I don’t know for how long we stood there. These eerie people in white, carrying their parcels of white, all looking serious, purposeful, on a journey, heading towards a clear destination.

‘What’s going on?’ she murmured, terrified.

‘I don’t know,’ I replied, equally terrified, but trying, unsuccessfully, to remain calm. I was having a dream, a nightmare, that was the only possible explanation.

Then Kerry lit a cigarette. That was another thing — she had given up smoking — her thirty-fags-a-day habit — for Darren. I’d given up too, in support. She handed me the Silk Cut, and I took a drag, inhaled the sweet smoke, and that was when I knew this was for real.

The next few minutes were a blur. I don’t remember us leaving the house and running across the road. All I can remember is hammering on the door of our neighbours, then finding the bell and ringing it, and a minute or so later seeing light come on behind the glass panel at the top of the door. Moments later, it opened and Rob stood there in his pyjamas, with a quizzical expression I will never forget. I almost hugged him in relief.

‘Need to use your phone!’ I blurted. ‘Police. I’m so sorry. I—’

Suddenly, away from the madness that our house had become, none of what we had experienced seemed real any more. I’ve never had any truck with God, or the supernatural, none of that shit. My dad died when I was twenty, when an Army truck rammed the back of his car during a motorway pile-up. My mum died of cancer two years later — triggered by shock and grief, my sister always reckoned. Thanks, God!

I dialled the 9s, then was struck dumb when the operator answered, asked me which service I required. When a Police operator came on the line, I suddenly felt very foolish. ‘We’ve got… well… I sort of think… intruders in our house,’ I managed, finally. And I felt a right dickhead as I replaced the receiver.

Rob’s wife, Mandy came downstairs in her dressing gown, wondering what the commotion was. ‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out. ‘There’s something strange going on in our house — I’ve just called the Police.’

Kerry suddenly collapsed on the sofa, sobbing. Mandy, bless her, sat down beside her and put an arm around her. And in a sudden moment of normality said, ‘I’ll make us all a cup of tea, shall I?’ She got up and went into the kitchen.

It seemed only moments later that streaks of blue light were skittering off the front windowpane. We heard a car pull up and I opened the front door to see two male uniformed officers standing there, one a middle-aged Sergeant, the other a much younger rookie constable, holding their caps in their hands.

Rob invited them in, and I stood in the little hallway, explaining what we had just seen to looks of extreme incredulity from Croydon’s finest. When I had finished, all too aware that what I had said sounded like the ramblings of a crazy, the Sergeant took a step forward and sniffed my breath.

‘Been drinking, have you, sir?’ he said, with extreme sarcasm.

‘No more than usual,’ I replied.

‘Walking out of the wall, are they, sir? All carrying something?’

I nodded.

‘It’s nearly Christmas,’ he said. ‘Maybe they’re bringing you Christmas presents. Was one of them dressed in red robes, with a long grey beard? I didn’t see any reindeer on the roof.’

Both their radios crackled into life. Both listened to the message. ‘We’re just attending at Ecclestone Close. We’ll be on our way in a minute,’ the Sergeant said.

‘Go and take a look,’ I said. ‘I’ve left the front door open.’

The Sergeant nodded at the rookie and pointed across the road with his finger. The young constable went out. Mandy came into the hall. ‘I’m just making a cuppa — would you both like one?’ she asked.

‘No, thank you, ma’am,’ the cynical cop replied. ‘There’s an accident on the A23 we need to attend.’

That made me feel bad. That I was keeping these officers from something far more important. Rob, the Sergeant and I stood there in awkward silence.

‘Nice development this estate,’ the Sergeant said. ‘Not been here before.’

‘We’ve only recently moved in,’ I said.

Moments later the front door was pushed open and the rookie stood there. His face was sheet white and he was shaking like a leaf. He could barely speak. ‘Sarge,’ he said. ‘I… I… I think you’d better go and take a look. I think I’m imagining things.’

Both officers strode back across the road and entered our house. I went into the living room and sat down beside Kerry, who was still sobbing, and tried to comfort her. Mandy brought us mugs of tea and a moment of normality returned as she asked us if we wanted milk and sugar.

Then there was a rap on the front door. I followed Rob as he went to answer it.

The Sergeant stood there, looking as shaken as his colleague, his face ashen. After some moments, the senior officer spoke. ‘I don’t know what to say Mr… er… Mr Wilson?’

I nodded.

‘It’s not someone playing a prank on you, is it?’

‘What do you think?’ I replied.

‘I didn’t… didn’t see… didn’t see any projector,’ the rookie said.

‘I don’t know what to think, sir,’ the Sergeant said. ‘I’ve not seen… not experienced… nothing… nothing like this in all the years I’ve been a police officer. I’m at a loss what to suggest. Has this happened before?’

‘No,’ I said very firmly.

‘I… I approached the… the intruders,’ he said. ‘I walked right through one and it was like stepping into a freezer. I think you’d better not go back to the house, not just yet.’

He was quivering all over, so much that I broke out in goosebumps myself at the sight of him.

‘They can stay the night here,’ Rob said kindly. ‘We’ll put them in the spare room.’

The two police officers looked like they could not wait to get away from here, but not because they needed to attend the other incident, the crash on the A23, the main London road. It looked to me as if they wanted, right then, to be anywhere but here. They seemed totally out of their comfort zone and, if nothing else, at least it gave me some reassurance that Kerry and I were not mad.

The Sergeant was holding his notebook in his hand and he tried to jot down some details, but his hand was shaking so much that after a few tries, he stopped. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Williams — I mean Wilson,’ he said to me. ‘I think I’m as shook up as you are. I… I don’t know… are you and Mrs Wilson of any religious persuasion?’