Read Online The Hollowing by Robert Holdstock - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Holdstock
Ads: Link
can’t access. ”
“Lost,” Richard said kindly. “Totally lost.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Helen stood and fetched her coat from by the back door, shrugging it on and zipping it half-way up. “It’s late. I have to get back, and you need rest.” She seemed undecided and disappointed.
Richard toyed with the cup, half-watching the woman, very much wanting her to stay, despite the pain he was feeling.
She couldn’t be right. He shook his head. Alex would be twenty! They had the wrong boy. She couldn’t be right.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “If you change your mind, leave another marker. And have good walking boots, weatherproofing, a good book, any medication you need, some food, a good brandy, two changes of clothing, and a rucksack, a good-sized one. Have them ready.”
“I have a job in London. I have to be back in two weeks.”
“You won’t need that much time.”
“You said three months. Three months to find him. I don’t understand.”
“I know. I know you don’t. I’m sorry, but it’s as hard for me at the moment. Will you come to the Station? It’s not far. Six or seven hours’ walk. Come tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You have a boy at the end of some sort of communication network and the boy is thirteen. And my boy is twenty. And unless his voice has failed to break, they can’t be one and the same. Is it possible he’s older than you realise?”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “I doubt it. We think he’s in a timeslow.”
“Something else I don’t understand.”
“Sorry.”
She turned to go, opening the door to the gathering dusk.
“Helen?”
Glancing back, she hesitated and smiled. Richard stood and went over to her. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure your intentions are quite genuine.”
“I’ll come back,” she said defiantly, smiling. “Don’t you worry about that!”
As she walked down the path he called out, “Next time he calls you, ask him what stick I danced with round the fire. It was our secret.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said dully, mocking him.
He called again, “I’m being honest with you. I’m not sure I believe you’ve found what you tell me you’ve found. But I’ll know him when I hear his voice. I’ll know him. If you can arrange it.”
Helen had zipped up her coat and was running along the bridleway towards Hunter’s Brook. Richard recognised the gait, and his confusion was compounded.
Helen Silverlock had been here before, despite what she’d said.
Oak Lodge
At dawn, a grim grey mist hung over the land, a subdued and flowing sea in which the dark features were the taller trees of the fields and woods.
Richard stood in his bedroom, fully dressed, hands in his pockets, and stared at the wreathed land, thinking moodily of the woman, her message, her enthusiasm, her strangeness. Crows circled close to the house, flapping and vanishing through the wraithed branches. One detached itself and swooped towards the garden, gliding low over the gate and rising towards the bedroom window with the merest flap of its wings. Richard could hear the scrabbling of nestlings in the disused chimney and waited for the great bird to continue its curve, up to the roof, but the creature came straight on and smashed startlingly against the window. The whole pane shook. The crack of beak on glass seemed deafening. When Richard opened the window and stared down, he could see no sign of the bird, but its dreamlike and dramatic action had disturbed him and he went downstairs.
At nine o’clock he rang Alice in London. She had just arrived at work and was tetchy and tired. She became almost hysterical when he told her, as simply as he could, what Helen Silverlock had implied to him, but when she heard that the boy was thirteen years old she laughed scornfully, then began to get angry. She wanted to know why he had really called her.
“For just that reason,” he said. “I thought I should keep you
“Lost,” Richard said kindly. “Totally lost.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Helen stood and fetched her coat from by the back door, shrugging it on and zipping it half-way up. “It’s late. I have to get back, and you need rest.” She seemed undecided and disappointed.
Richard toyed with the cup, half-watching the woman, very much wanting her to stay, despite the pain he was feeling.
She couldn’t be right. He shook his head. Alex would be twenty! They had the wrong boy. She couldn’t be right.
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “If you change your mind, leave another marker. And have good walking boots, weatherproofing, a good book, any medication you need, some food, a good brandy, two changes of clothing, and a rucksack, a good-sized one. Have them ready.”
“I have a job in London. I have to be back in two weeks.”
“You won’t need that much time.”
“You said three months. Three months to find him. I don’t understand.”
“I know. I know you don’t. I’m sorry, but it’s as hard for me at the moment. Will you come to the Station? It’s not far. Six or seven hours’ walk. Come tomorrow?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. You have a boy at the end of some sort of communication network and the boy is thirteen. And my boy is twenty. And unless his voice has failed to break, they can’t be one and the same. Is it possible he’s older than you realise?”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug. “I doubt it. We think he’s in a timeslow.”
“Something else I don’t understand.”
“Sorry.”
She turned to go, opening the door to the gathering dusk.
“Helen?”
Glancing back, she hesitated and smiled. Richard stood and went over to her. “Thank you,” he said. “I’m sure your intentions are quite genuine.”
“I’ll come back,” she said defiantly, smiling. “Don’t you worry about that!”
As she walked down the path he called out, “Next time he calls you, ask him what stick I danced with round the fire. It was our secret.”
“That’s a good idea,” she said dully, mocking him.
He called again, “I’m being honest with you. I’m not sure I believe you’ve found what you tell me you’ve found. But I’ll know him when I hear his voice. I’ll know him. If you can arrange it.”
Helen had zipped up her coat and was running along the bridleway towards Hunter’s Brook. Richard recognised the gait, and his confusion was compounded.
Helen Silverlock had been here before, despite what she’d said.
Oak Lodge
At dawn, a grim grey mist hung over the land, a subdued and flowing sea in which the dark features were the taller trees of the fields and woods.
Richard stood in his bedroom, fully dressed, hands in his pockets, and stared at the wreathed land, thinking moodily of the woman, her message, her enthusiasm, her strangeness. Crows circled close to the house, flapping and vanishing through the wraithed branches. One detached itself and swooped towards the garden, gliding low over the gate and rising towards the bedroom window with the merest flap of its wings. Richard could hear the scrabbling of nestlings in the disused chimney and waited for the great bird to continue its curve, up to the roof, but the creature came straight on and smashed startlingly against the window. The whole pane shook. The crack of beak on glass seemed deafening. When Richard opened the window and stared down, he could see no sign of the bird, but its dreamlike and dramatic action had disturbed him and he went downstairs.
At nine o’clock he rang Alice in London. She had just arrived at work and was tetchy and tired. She became almost hysterical when he told her, as simply as he could, what Helen Silverlock had implied to him, but when she heard that the boy was thirteen years old she laughed scornfully, then began to get angry. She wanted to know why he had really called her.
“For just that reason,” he said. “I thought I should keep you
Similar Books
