Barbara Erskine - Sands of Time

As she approached the turning towards Aldeburgh she slowed the car, her hands gripping the wheel, holding her breath. The road she took ran due east.

This is the wrong way. We need to go north!

She smiled grimly, almost relieved that the silence had been broken. So he was still there. Still awake. Still with his built-in compass. ‘I told you, I am going to a place of power I know. A wonderful place. You will like it.’ She was visualising the white-domed silhouette of Sizewell nuclear power station.

You are deceiving me! Turn round!

‘I am not deceiving you. I told you, we are going somewhere just right for your purposes.’

You do not know what my purposes are, madam! Turn round!

‘I can’t.’ She gripped the steering wheel even more tightly. ‘I have to go on. It’s the perfect place. You’ll see.’

Stop now!

‘I told you, I can’t. I have to go on.’ She pushed her foot to the floor. ‘It’s important we get there before sunrise.’

Ahead a thin strip of cloud had begun to lighten, tinged with palest red. Above them, the sky was still dark, studded with stars. The road sparkled with dusted frost. Gritting her teeth she pushed the car on down the straight narrow road, heading inexorably towards the sea.

I told you to stop!

‘Not yet. Not till we get there. It’s not far.’

I do not trust you. Shelley women are dissemblers. They tease. They lie!

‘Not me.’

The needle on the speedometer was moving steadily to the right.

‘You must trust me. I know what I’m doing. Wait, it’s not far now.’ Mary had a little lamb.

Stop. I insist. You plan to destroy the bottle. I will not allow it!

‘I am taking you to a place of power. It is called a power station.’ She was gabbling frantically. ‘You must believe me. It is the right place to go. There the power of the bottle will be magnified. It will be ten times greater. More even than you dream of.’

Stop now. Turn round .

‘I can’t. This is a narrow road. I’m not allowed to turn. We’re nearly there.’

Anna. Please obey me. Do not make me angry .

And suddenly she felt the touch of his fingers on her neck. Ice cold. Strong.

She leaned forward, hanging on to the wheel. ‘Don’t touch me! Keep your hands off me. If we crash the bottle will be broken.’

The bottle is wrapped. It will not break. Come, Anna. Slow down, my dear .

Suddenly the fingers were caressing. Not cold this time, but warm, enticing. The hands she had felt in her dream.

‘We need to be there by sunrise.’ She gripped the steering wheel ever more tightly, forcing herself to concentrate on the road. It was growing lighter by the minute.

Don’t think about what she was going to do. Don’t let him read her thoughts. Keep that bland, deadly silhouette there in her head. And recite. That was what Serena had said to do. Recite. Block him out. Mary had a little lamb. Its fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went the lamb was sure to go…

Serena and Toby had wandered through into the sitting room while their hostess, abandoning the idea of going back to bed, went upstairs to get dressed. Toby stood looking down at the cold hearth. ‘Shall I light a fire?’

Serena nodded. ‘Why not?’

He picked up the poker from the carpet where Phyllis had let it fall hours before. Examining it he grimaced. ‘I can’t believe I survived being hit by this.’

Serena smiled wearily. ‘The Carstairs family obviously have tough heads. And the Shelleys are pretty feisty. Try not to worry. She’ll be OK.’

‘If I just thought she could contact us. Ring me. Anything.’ The phone in Anna’s flat just now had rung on endlessly.

‘She’s not going to ring you, Toby.’ Serena watched as he picked some logs out of the basket. ‘If she calls anyone it will be Phyllis. Or perhaps me.’ She felt automatically in her pocket for her mobile and frowned. ‘Of course. I left it on charge in the car. Perhaps I’d better fetch it.’

Toby felt the draught of cold air as she pulled open the front door. He stooped, crumpling up a newspaper he had found lying on the chair, piling the logs carefully over it with handfuls of kindling, building them into a pyramid. In the distance he heard Serena’s car door bang. There was a box of matches on the huge black beam which served as a mantelpiece. He picked it up and shook it. Reaching for a match he was striking it as he heard Serena come back in, closing the door behind her.

The paper caught. Then the dry twigs, crackling up with a satisfying roar. He sat back, staring down at the fire, feeling the sudden warmth on his face. Then he looked up puzzled. Serena had not reappeared. Instead he heard the creak of floorboards above his head. She had gone upstairs.

Serena tapped lightly on Phyllis’s door and went in. ‘She’s called in. Listen.’ She dialled up Anna’s message and held it to the old lady’s ear.

‘Oh God!’ Phyllis stared at her. ‘We were right. He went with her. What do we do?’

‘Shall I tell Toby?’ Serena bit her lip. ‘He’s out of his mind with worry, but he is so vulnerable to Carstairs. Oh, Phyllis, I don’t know what to do for the best.’

‘Ring her back. That’s what she’s asked you to do. Call her. Now. Quickly.’ She handed the phone back to Serena and watched anxiously as Serena keyed in the number.

The phone rang as Anna turned the car into the high street and threaded her way towards the sea. She grabbed it. ‘Serena? Is that you? I’m here. In Aldeburgh -’ The phone hissed and crackled and went dead. She stared at it in disbelief, then she threw it down. She could see the sea wall ahead of her. She was driving slowly now, manoeuvring as close as she could to the beach.

Carefully she drew the car to a halt.

‘We’re here. The place of power.’ From the beach he would be able to see the power station in the distance. Surely he would realise that it was different; something strange he would never have seen before; would sense its sinister aura. Just so long as he gave her time to reach the sea.

‘We’re there. Let me show you. It’s the most amazing place.’ As she groped for the door handle she found herself smiling wryly. Maybe he was not so clever after all. And she had to keep it that way. Cajole him. Go along with him. Fool him. She was wondering how high the tide was. She would only need a few seconds to reach the sea. Not long.

In her mind’s eye she conjured again the picture of the power station, so close along the coast. Its great white dome would be easily visible from the edge of the sea.

As she climbed out into the bitter dawn, the bottle was in her hand. ‘OK. Come on. I’ll show you where we’re going. More powerful than anything you ever dreamed of.’ It was windy here. Her hair whipped round her face. She paused, half expecting the rear door of the car to open. It didn’t. There was no sound. Nodding grimly she turned towards the sea wall, and searching for a gap set off into the teeth of the wind down across the pebbled beach.

The tide was nearly high; it hurtled in against the pebbles with a rattle of falling stones and shingle and she stood for a moment staring at it, dazed by the noise. In front of her the sky had begun to turn red. Along the coast the dome reflected the hint of blood.

It was bitterly cold. She stared round, to see if Carstairs was following her. There was no sign of him. Her fingers tightened round the bottle.

Stray shreds of mist were drifting in off the sea.

Suddenly she began to run down towards the tide line, the pebbles shifting and lurching beneath her feet. She was there. He couldn’t stop her now.